Among the side-effects of prolonged sleep deprivation, as noted in a recent report in The Independent, are forgetfulness, hallucinations and delusions.

For those troubled by insomnia, there is at least some good news. Bulgaria goes to the polls again on July 5, in its national parliamentary elections, and there will more of those bizarre and boring post-election news conferences to watch, live on television – if "live" is the word.

A further benefit is a sense of solidarity, because at least of some of the politicians participating appear to have achieved deep states of forgetfulness, hallucinations and delusions, although whether this is because of sleep deprivation is arguable.

Custom is for news conferences to be given by parties in order of the support they are said by exit polls to have won, which tends to relegate the fringe to the wee hours of the morning, as happened after the June 7 European Parliament elections.

The strange thing is that, the later the hour and the smaller the party, the longer the array of party officials who line up at the news conference table, and the length of their statements tends to be in inverse proportion to the paltry numbers of journalists who stay to, as it were, listen. Some time after 3am, one such party lined up a row of people that, given its electoral support, may have been an assembly of all who voted for it.

The principal spokesperson – whose name, unfortunately, I did not catch, launched into an exhaustive diatribe against the media for neglecting his party and thus depriving it of the certain victory that had eluded it by but (I am guessing here) about 98 per cent of the vote.

Having done with insulting that little band of representatives of the Fourth Estate that had left his party in undeserved obscurity, somewhere past 3am he told the tale of an unnamed cable channel that had been prepared to accept their advertising, for a fee of 700 leva for a minute. "And they probably only have 500 viewers," he growled.

Considering the allegations that we had heard about vote-buying, an activity that by now should be listed on the stock exchange, the price did not seem disproportionate.
In fairness, all politicians live with the peculiar delusion that everyone is as interested as them in politics and in marathon election nights, a form of Beltane ritual in which the celebrants – frequently already hallucinating about their power and importance – launch on monologues that send anyone listening into a trance.

The good news is that on July 5, a total of 14 parties and four coalitions will be competing for places in the National Assembly, holding out hope for a night of ritual boredom (I can think of one or two Bulgarian politicians ripe for exorcism, but that is too much to hope for, and in any case my impression is that exorcism requires the presence of a soul); so at least for one night, if you are having trouble nodding off, take heart that stupefaction is a click of a remote control away.