More and more often, I feel a sense of dissonance — as if I’m living in a parallel universe, one where fundamental logic and accountability have dissolved, replaced by spectacle, denial, and a kind of moral inversion.

Where it seems the greatest threat facing the planet isn’t the few thousand billionaires siphoning off its resources and destroying it in the process, but people moving across borders in search of a safer and better life.

Where someone can become President of the United States by vowing to expose a global cabal of paedophiles — only to turn out to have known them all too well himself, for years.

Where a court of sycophants — at home and abroad — too afraid to confront his nakedness, shower him with praise for the taxpayer-funded golden leaves he has plastered all around himself. Power not only corrupts — it gilds itself, at public expense.

Where power no longer even bothers to hide behind etiquette or diplomacy — a deranged and angry man can publicly humiliate a former prime minister for having once dared to warn about the danger Trump poses to democracy.

Where Labour politicians think they’re being clever with doublespeak — trying to sound tough enough for the tabloids without alienating their voters — only for the far-right press to strip their words down into whatever fits tomorrow’s outrage headline.

Where the media make it look as if the right and just sanction for the kind of crimes a member of the royal family is accused of — including asking police to dig up dirt on a victim of sexual slavery — isn’t prison, as it would be for commoners, but merely losing a title.

And where elected MPs aren’t even allowed to discuss the matter — because when it comes to the powerful, even parliamentary speech has its limits.

Each fragment might seem disconnected, but together they map the moral landscape of our times: a world where power gilds itself, the media applaud, and citizens are told to look away. No wonder it feels like living in a parallel universe.