At time of this writing, the Left and the British state are busily engaged in portraying a solitary, frustrated, drunken son of Albion as that great figure of myth — the ‘right wing extremist.’ By most accounts Darren Osborne is an everyman figure, a married father of four who enjoys his beer and the quiet life of the suburban lower middle class. In images displayed by the media, green weeds split the ground just outside his otherwise tidy home, while a police officer stands at the gate of a small, neat, garden fence. It’s the kind of home you’d walk past and not look at twice; a home like your own. Like a lot of men his age, Osborne appears to have grumbled occasionally at ‘the Muslims,’ and bristled at the growing number of Islamic terrorist attacks occurring in his nation. But there was nothing to suggest he might be a ‘man of action.’ He was not a member of any nationalist organization. He had no blog, no history of activism. The leader of the South Wales National Front, Adam Lloyd, told the press that Osborne “is not known to any of us here in South Wales National Front, and to our knowledge is not and never has been a member.” Darren Osborne surprised ‘the movement’ with his actions in Finsbury, though I suspect he surprised himself even more.