Anyhow, here it is. And Loach has completely done for Corbyn - cementing into the mind over four long, incoherent minutes that already-lethal image of the tired, toothy old man sitting on the floor of the train beside the toilet, muttering to himself and looking tetchy.
And it's that, rather than his tatty old Marxism, that has finished him. Nobody votes to have Old Man
Barring a truly lurid revelation about May, it's Game Over.
Correction courtesy of Demetrius in the comments below - ta!