QUENTIN LETTS: When I asked the old lentil-munching Corbyn about his blue suede shoes, he sang like Elvis

What a change in it Jeremy Corbyn. Finally free from the Work Party, the man who almost became Prime Minister in 2017, filed his nomination papers at Islington Town Hall yesterday.

A hundred or so supporters gathered as this mysterious process was completed. Heaven knows what it entailed, but around midday, looking like a man who had just had his undercarriage spat and polished by the community nurse, a beaming Mr Corbyn, 75, emerged.

There he stood on the neoclassical steps, proudly holding a large piece of paper reading ‘Jeremy Corbyn, Independent’, as he will contest the Islington North seat.

In 2019 he had a majority of 26,000. Now that he has been maneuvered out of his old party by Sir Keir ‘Agreement With Me Is Compulsory’ Starmer, Corbyn wants to increase that majority as a lone groover. In the week of campaigning, he said his team had already distributed a leaflet to every house in the constituency.

There he stood on the neoclassical stairs, proudly holding a large sheet of paper that read ‘Jeremy Corbyn, Independent’.

In 2019 he had a majority of 26,000. Now that he has been maneuvered out of his old party by Sir Keir ‘Agreement With Me Is Compulsory’ Starmer

The old lentil eater had a dandyish shape. He was wearing a light blue jacket, a modern shirt (not tucked in), dark trousers and a pair of blue suede shoes

Don’t tell Sir Keir, but many Labor activists are said to be helping the Corbyn campaign. Geographically compact Islington North has been Labor since 1937, but Mr Corbyn, who first became an MP in 1983, must know every street and pub.

Labor has chosen a municipal councilor, Praful Nargund, as its candidate. Mr. Nargund is tall, has fantastic teeth, wears a spin-doctor approved suit and tie, and looks like a great oilman.

Maybe it’s time we started a protest group called Just Stop Oilers. Mr Corbyn, grinning and looking happily through his glasses, lapped up a few chants of “Ooooh, Jeremy Corbyn” before saying he planned to fight “poverty, inequality and injustice”.

He hoped that it would be possible to achieve ‘peace, justice and equality’ both here and internationally. Independent candidates normally play things more locally. He managed to work in a few places in the emergency department of the local hospital.

There were old men with rattail haircuts and trendy glasses, grannies with purple fringes, an impossibly tall eccentric in a bicycle helmet and a sour little chap, articulate and prosperous, with a Grunwick solidarity badge.

He inspires devotion, just like Nigel Farage, but there are differences. He is a down-to-earth figure who doesn’t shout out of one side of his mouth

The old lentil eater had a dandyish shape. He was wearing a light blue jacket, a modern shirt (not tucked in), dark trousers and a pair of blue suede shoes. When I asked about the blue suede shoes, he started singing the Elvis Presley song.

Another reporter asked about Arsenal FC, whose ground is in the constituency, and Mr Corbyn started singing a ballad about an earlier Arsenal win. His wife Laura watched from a safe distance. Señora Corbyn may have heard that Arsenal song a few times.

He inspires devotion, just like Nigel Farage, but there are differences. He is a down-to-earth figure who doesn’t shout out of one side of his mouth. He answered questions in such a low mumble that half of us blunt ends couldn’t hear.

He is also a zealous constituency man. Goblins kept walking up to him to shake his hand and make a request. He listened to them attentively and skillfully.

A rather tough actor, Rob Delaney, gave a speech. “We all love him and know him and he’s just a fantastic guy,” Mr Delaney gushed. He is, you see, American.

When I asked about the blue suede shoes, he started singing the Elvis Presley song

You begin to understand why Mr Corbyn spends so much time talking to his supporters about ‘peace’ and ‘uniting our society’

He answered questions in such a low mumble that half of us blunt ends couldn’t hear

A Corbynista with a megaphone and a Che Guevara bag instructed the crowd to chant more rounds of ‘oooh Jeremy Corbyn’, and then – the slave driver – demanded higher volume. The comrades did their best, but they were quite old – almost as old as the Farage crowd in Clacton on Tuesday – and didn’t have as much energy as they used to. Some wore “Free Palestine” badges.

There were old men with rattail haircuts and trendy glasses, grannies with purple fringes, an impossibly tall oddball in a bicycle helmet and a sour little chap, articulate and prosperous, with a Grunwick solidarity badge. He started ranting at me for being a member of the filthy right-wing press. More than once he walked away before coming back with ‘and one more thing!’. He was quite a cross Hector.

You begin to understand why Mr Corbyn spends so much time talking to his supporters about ‘peace’ and ‘uniting our society’. Some of them are inveterate ankle biters.