Donald J Trump - love him or loathe him he is very much man-of-the moment thanks mainly to that petition signed by over half a million doubtless well-intentioned souls who wished to give the old windbag a touch of his own medicine at immigration control.
Trump had called for Muslims to be barred from America. Bar him from the UK demanded the petitioners in return. Thus descending to his level.
They have played straight into the hands - and campaign success - of one of the world's leading self-publicists.
In an era where victimhood is a fine marketing tool, there could only ever be one winner with this one.
And in fairness, contemptible that he is, haven't there been a whole lot worse than Donald let into the country before now?
The irony is that the more those who despise Trump rail against him, and try to curtail him, the better they make him look.
His entire campaign is built on a backlash against so-called political correctness. Playing him at his own game patently isn't working.
The once-joke candidate in the US presidential candidacy campaign is now a serious contender. Serious as in, he could win the Republican nomination. He could make it to the White House. (Gerry Adams can surely count on an invite to the annual St Patrick's Day bash since Trump previously attended a Sinn Fein fundraiser.)
And, yes, he could get his hands on the red button that launches nuclear Armageddon...
Yet it's still hard to take him... well... seriously..
Are we all being had? Sometimes you get the impression that The Donald is the central character in one of those social experiments that are currently so popular on social media where they follow someone around with a hidden camera watching other people's reactions as he says and does outlandish things.
Any minute now he's going to whip off the bouffant and reveal how, like Derren Brown, he was just trying to prove how he could make seemingly sane people do mad things. Like push a man over the edge.
Or in Donald's case, an entire nation.
The latest bit of surreal Trump theatre has to be the appearance of The Freedom Kids doing the Donald Trump Jam on the campaign trail in recent days. Three earnest young girls dressed like a cross between Uncle Sam and Wonder Woman leaping around chanting about freeeeedom and the USaaaay.
It's like a bad, screechy, school production but then slick isn't necessarily what Trump wants to project.
His campaign is fuelled by private wealth - he is a very, very rich man which always helps in American politics - but he has also tapped into a popular revolt against the careful media-speak of other US political contenders.
He is a big mouth and for many Americans this is actually a bit of a vote-catcher. He blows his own Trumpet, wraps the flag around him, tells them what they want to hear.
He has mobilised a sizeable section of the Republican electorate who don't seem all that bothered that his expertise and knowledge of the outside world is scarily deficient.
Imagine a world with President Trump on one side and Kim Jung Un on the other...
Donald Trump is a puffed-up braggart. But he's a on a roll.
And he's getting away with it because even his enemies are now feeding his impressive publicity machine every time they try to slap him down.
Or try to keep him out...
Poor Cheryl Versini Fernandez. Not only has the marriage, reportedly, hit the rocks.
But she’s been left with that trickiest of problems for a popular entertainer. What to do about the name?
Let’s face it, it’s not the snappiest of surnames for an album sleeve. She could go back to Cole. Or back a stage further still to Tweedy. However, a source helpfully points out that since one would remind her of her failed marriage to Ashley and the other evoke memories of the assault in the nightclub loo, she might prefer not to.
It’s never a good thing to be seen to be attempting to kill someone.
So although Derren Brown has doubtless enhanced his own reputation with the TV “experiment” where he claimed to show how authority figures could persuade people to do things they would not normally countenance (i.e. pushing some bloke off a high rise building), I’m not sure he’s done his guinea-pig participants a favour.
Knowing you had it in you to callously kill — isn’t there a danger that could push anyone over the edge?