As a hack I fall into the latter camp, but our beloved Chancellor of the Exchequer Gideon seems to veer to the fairytale side of things.
On the one hand there's his economic policies, which are all unicorns and dancing fairies and nice comfy toadstools for the pixies to sit on when they've finished their 36-hour shift solving all the problems of the Wicked Old Previous Administration.
And on the other there's his self-image.
Gideon is mean. Gideon is moody. Gideon, he probably tells himself in the mirror every morning, is good to go.
Gideon believes he is actually a secret agent using the alias George to fight the evil doings of SMERSH.
And after he defeats debt and unleashes a field of brightly-coloured ponies with names like Jobs, Growth and Small Business Loans he will go home to ravish his wife with a wink and a witty bon mot.
Which is a lovely fantasy for him to have, although it leaves me feeling a little unwell.
In reality his economics make him look like the fifth wheel in an international Monopoly game where he seriously believes that a dosshouse on the Old Kent Road is a worthwhile investment while he gets fiscally trounced by every other player, each of whom thinks he's an idiot.
In reality he is called Gideon, banks at Hoare & Co where you need £500,000 in readies and an invite to open a current account, is the future 18th baronet of Ballylemon and Ballintaylor, managed a 2:1 in modern history and has about as much idea of how to balance a budget as I do about tying a dickie bow.
Although he doesn't seem very good at that either.
Gideon thinks he's the man. But he doesn't realise the man in question is a puffed-up plump pillock just like Nicholas Soames, and should be banished to bark from the backbenches where he won't cause anyone much trouble and he can give us the occasional laugh, instead of being in charge from which position he's giving us bugger all to smile about.
Still, it's good to know that someone's making the most of the taxpayer-funded canapes.
It'll shift a lot quicker if you run, mate.
