Iain Duncan Smith won the mad, crazed, over-the-top ovation he needed. The Tory party in the hall was ecstatic. They couldn't believe how wonderful he was, or how wonderful they were for having chosen such a wonderful leader.

He got a 12-minute standing ovation, a gigantic, foot-stamping, throat thrashing V-sign to the Labour party, the media, and most of all to the MPs who have spent the week plotting against him.

But success came at a terrible price. It was like being lectured for more than an hour by a very angry Dalek. A Dalek whose batteries were running down.

His message was clear. "Tony Blair is a liar. Tories trust the people. I can't climb stairs."

He swerved wildly from being the quiet man to being the angry man. "Anger!" he kept shouting. "Anger!" Gosh, he was cross. Then suddenly his voice disappeared. "Listen ... listen," he whispered. "You can hear ..." No, we couldn't. "You can hear, steady as a heartbeat, the hurt and anger. Of the people. Of this country." The temptation to shout "Ouch!" very loud was strong but I resisted it.

At times he seemed to be raving. "The quiet man is turning up the volume!" he yelled.

At other times he flattened his voice out on one monotonous level which was meant to sound firm and determined and threatening to his enemies, rather like a Dalek, but instead just sounded hypnotically dull, but that didn't matter because there was a claque, a doughnut of supporters, all round him in the middle of the hall who stood up 17 times in order to create entirely artificial standing ovations, so the effect was of an entire political party with a serious bladder problem.

And he had a message for the Tories plotting against him. "Gerrout! Clear off, or I'll hit you so hard you'll have to brush your teeth through your backside!"

This is a paraphrase, but it does convey the flavour. "I won't allow anything or anyone to stand in my way! ... to those who doubt and deliberate, I say this: 'Don't work for Tony Blair! Get on board. Or get out of our way! I know where your daughter goes to school'!"

I only made the last bit up, but this was a new style: road rage politics. He spoke with venom and bitterness about Tony Blair. Where was Tony Blair when you needed him? "In your face when you don't need hassle. Out of the country when you need help."

"Oi, you, Blair, get back from Washington and do sunnink about my gran's hip!"

At one point the very thought of the prime minister brought IDS to the brink of tears. Yes, the prime minister who had virtually killed Dr David Kelly with his own hands! It was outrageous to play politics with Dr Kelly's life, he declared, while ruthlessly playing politics with Dr Kelly's death.

After we had been listening for what seemed like around two hours, we noticed that he was still only half way through. He had been nervous at the start, rocking on his heels and breathing deeply before going on. Now he was awash with relief, sucking in the applause like an Everest climber guzzling oxygen. He started to pause. The pauses got longer as he basked in the ferocious glow of their adoration. I gather it looked weird on television.

But as he relaxed, as waves of relief washed over him, he might have reflected on the stupendous ovation also given to the previous speaker: Boris Johnson, MP for Henley, who won another stander for the annual financial appeal. He begged the delegates not to waste their money on "the fleshpots of Blackpool ... or those curiously ventilated undergarments".

They cheered and laughed dementedly. They love Boris. They think he is adorable. He may soon be swept into office by the sheer force of their delight and by naughty knickers. The split-crotch panties of power!