Of Barnbrook, his cream carpets and the mystery of the twenty year-old DNA...

The article in yesterday's Independent was something of an eye-opener for a number of reasons, despite the fact that it was about Richard Barnbrook, usually a certain cure for insomnia. For a start, the title of the piece was a bit of a giveaway: 'Richard Barnbrook: The art-school liberal who now won't allow blacks in his party'. Note that 'his party', an interestingly Freudian slip. One wonders if it was down to Barnbrook or the interviewer. Either way, if I were Nick Griffin, the present leader of the BNP, I'd be watching my back. There's something distinctly reminiscent of Marcus Junius Brutus about Barnbrook particularly now that, like Caesar, Griffin appears to be making firm moves to consolidate his position as the BNP's dictator for life.

Barnbrook has received far more interest from the media than he deserves since he took his seat on the London Assembly a month ago. Hailed as the best speaker in the party since its founder John Tyndall, Barnbrook actually comes across while speaking publicly or to camera as inept, slurred and at times completely incomprehensible. Take this fine example lifted from the interview and referring to Barnbrook's homo-erotic film, HMS Discovery: A Love Story.

'Sexuality and Aids and the concept of a relationship, how does a man and a woman relate, going through history, between Captains Scott and Oates, between Christ and John the Baptist and the Mother Earth walking through carrying the flag...it's almost like a still-born child, how does people relate to each other...it was dealing with the bigotry of attitudes towards people.'

Decipher that if you can.

Barnbrook has some credibility in the art world. As a graduate of the Royal Academy, he has taught art in schools, is a painter and sculptor and has allegedly worked with the late film-maker Derek Jarman (who we're told gave Barnbrook his first film camera, the fool). His art cred goes further for he claims to have once been the lover of radical actress Tilda Swinton (though she denies this vehemently) and still claims to be engaged to the former English National Ballet star Simone Clarke. During the interview with the Independent, Barnbrook came out with one of the creepiest statements I've heard for some time, with regard to his relationship with Tilda Swinton.

'I've got DNA proof that I went out with her.'

The relationship - if indeed there ever was a relationship, was said to have been about twenty years ago. Who the hell keeps DNA proof of a relationship from two decades ago? And what form might such proof take? A cup smeared with her lipstick, a sample of her hair saved lovingly in a locket, a urine sample? The mind boggles.

There are certain snippets in the interview that reveal rather more about Barnbrook than the general membership of the BNP might care to know. He presents himself for the interview in a sand-coloured linen suit (with matching socks) and a gold tie. His ex-council house home, we are told, has cream carpets and visitors have to remove their shoes before entering. His television is covered by a cream throw and his mobile ringtone features a chorister singing Jerusalem.

I tend to worry about the fundamental intelligence of people who choose to cover their floors with cream carpets and though I don't have a TV myself, I wonder why anyone would cover one with anything at all, let alone a cream throw, whatever one of those might be. As for choristers, Barnbrook appears to have a bit of a thing about them and other youngsters involved in some way with the church. Take this sample from the appalling HMS Discovery.

'A harsh scowl masks your smile, but weakens when your nakedness inspires...It bares you like a foreskin's folds...you will make of yourself a beauty, hard as rusting trucks and slag...Fists in a toilet that smells of piss...open-mouthed, I shall dream of altar-boys.'

I don't doubt it for a minute.

Putting altar-boys to one side, so to speak, Barnbrook revealed that he tithes a tenth of his Assembly allowance to the British National Party - a healthy £5000 per annum - plus all three of his researchers are entitled to claim around £29,000 each and one would expect him to employ party colleagues who will also tithe 10% to the party.

This money, it is assumed, will be used to campaign at the next General Election, for Barnbrook is aiming to become the next MP for Dagenham. The current MP Jon Cruddas is immensely popular in the constituency, is no intellectual lightweight (which Barnbrook certainly is) with a PhD in Philosophy, is an excellent speaker (which Barnbrook certainly isn't) and is a committed anti-fascist. In any case, when the time comes for campaigning, Barnbrook is likely to find that the money has disappeared down the black hole that is the BNP's treasury department.

Barnbrook has become the BNP's most high profile member - of far more interest to the membership and the media than its leader Nick Griffin. Which really should make Barnbrook nervous. The last time someone became unaccountably more popular than Griffin - the BNP's then 'Cultural Officer' Jonathan Bowden - the attack dogs were set on him and he was forced into resignation. Griffin has never liked competition and will destroy anyone who looks set to usurp his position.

Barnbrook is clearly setting out his stall for both the assault on Parliament and leadership of the BNP. My guess is that if the former doesn't work out in two years time, he'll go full pelt for the latter.

He continually appeals to the more moderate BNP member, if there is such a thing, attempting to remove himself and the party from its nazi origins into what he perceives to be a more acceptable electioneering party with racist policies. He seeks to create distance between the older and harder far-right and the new cuddly far-right by carrying on the Griffin-inspired perceived separation from the hardcore.

'Every party has nutters. Some of ours are knuckle-dragging junk from the past. But there are fewer left now.'

Nevertheless, Barnbrook is solid BNP, as can be observed by his frequent use of phrases referring to 'the return of Britain to the British', 'regaining our identity' and 'the indigenous British population' - all of them phrases beloved of modern racists and apologists for racism.

Still, we can console ourselves with the thought that while Barnbrook sees a great future for himself on the far-right, he may still have a long way to go. I said earlier that Barnbrook is far from being a great speaker and it seems I'm not the only one with such a low opinion of him: Cole Moreton, the interviewer from the Independent didn't seem to think much of him either, describing his performance at the Assembly thus;

'The truth is that he looked like a nervous, stroppy toddler when I saw him debate at City Hall earlier in the day. Barnbrook shouted, interrupted, talked across people and appeared deranged at times.'

He looks like a certain winner for the leadership of the BNP to me.