WHOEVER wins the general election, let us all be upstanding on our knees in gratitude that we're not ruled by Kim Jong-un.

Jong-un, as everyone knows is a wrong 'un and generally held to be one of the world's most dangerous small people. A brief reminder: the regime he runs is deeply evil.

But that needn't blind us to the fact that he is a fascinating oddity with a peculiar haircut and a dubious sartorial style.

You say: "We ken that. But what's he done noo?" I was coming to that, madam.

He has only ordered teachers in his national demesne to tell pupils that the Great Leader could drive at the age of 3 and was winning yacht races shortly after his 9th birthday.

The fantasy-style facts are contained in a manual issued for a new curricular subject called Revolutionary Activities. Sounds like it could be based on my 1970s college social science timetable.

The poor, benighted kiddies of Korea, N., will also be taught that Top Comrade Kim is a skilled artist and accomplished composer of music. Allegedly, he wrote six operas in two years, complete with singing and stuff.

He also wrote 1,500 books while at yooni, has directed many films, and is a dab hand with a golf stick, a sport from which he has retired, having excelled beyond the bounds of possibility in the controversial game.

Everything Kim does is so bizarre you'd hardly think the tales that appear in our media were credible. Indeed, you say: "You couldn't make it up."

Madam, we could. But we're talking truth that's stranger than news here, and nothing that Jong-un does need surprise us now. The most disturbing thing is the crowds that turn out to see him. You would too if the alternative was being sent to starve in a prison camp.

But whence the hysteria? Women, in particular, burst into tears in the exceptional statesman's presence. It's almost reminiscent of Beatlemania. Perhaps it is Maniacmania. Perhaps it's just a release of fear and confusion, something like a Daily Mail editorial.

Were I a North Korean ratepayer dragooned to attend one of his appearances, I'd stand at the back, thinking, "Aye right, ya lyin' galoot", while applauding with feigned enthusiasm. Well, it got me through a couple of years in the Labour Party.

You wonder what's next for Kim. He's achieved so much while still so young. If only he could suddenly become nice and get things in perspective.

If he'd just give up all the dictating to become a chicken farmer in central Pyongang, the world would become a safer, if less comical, place.