The meta we now take for granted. Events that take place purely because people expect events to take place. Hours of planning for each one. A venue to be booked. Activists to be bussed in to provide local colour. All of whom will become part of the background so we could be almost anywhere. The meta tipping into the surreal. Events that will be forgotten even before they are over. Unlikely to make much more than a 20-second clip on the rolling news channels. But elections abhor a vacuum. Without a daily stream of events, the politicians would be lost. Lose their sense of purpose. Just imagine if none of the broadcasters turned up. It would throw everyone into a deeper than usual existential crisis. The crumbling of the fragile ego. Was anyone really here? Did it even happen? The metaphysical world would be in chaos. All for that most elusive of creatures: the undecided voter. We all know they are out there somewhere. It’s possible that one or two may even have nothing better to do than watch Sky News round the clock and have caught the soundbite of the day. But would that really be enough to change anyone’s mind? Really? After nearly six weeks on the election campaign, how likely is it that anyone will hear something they’ve heard countless times before and say to themselves: “That’s it. I’ve now made up my mind. Thank God that bloke kept repeating himself.” More realistically, these people will make up their minds on the day. How they vote will depend on how they feel once they are in the polling station. Here all the party leaders can hope is that somehow they’ve buried their message in the nation’s subconscious. The subliminal campaign. So at a presentational level, all we’re left with is the symbolism. And in this, Keir Starmer’s lunchtime visit to a pub in rural Buckinghamshire came with flashing lights. When was the last time a Labour leader made a fleeting pit stop deep in the traditional Tory heartlands with just three days until the polls open? Or at any time during a campaign for that matter? Normally at this stage it’s all about shoring up the core vote. Nor was this a one-off. Monday morning had started off in Hitchin and would end in a farm near Chipping Norton. No, not Jeremy Clarkson’s. Things aren’t quite that bad for the Tories yet. Though Rishi Sunak may not agree. Starmer planting his flag on Lord Big Dave’s back lawn is quite the fuck you. Who knows, maybe Sam Cam had suggested it herself. I’ve always suspected that her support for Big Dave was conditional. The only person left who thinks the Tories have a prayer is Michael Gove. And he’s out of his head on drugs. Whatever he’s taking, it’s best avoided. Nor did the symbolism stop there. There was a time when Labour’s election planning was decidedly amateur hour. A bit endearingly like the Liberal Democrats. You’d all pitch up, no one would much care who you were or why you were there and the event would take on a laid-back feel. Now the Labour operation runs a tight ship. First you get an operational note. You then get a second email confirming you have been accredited. But no location, so you can’t book a train or make travel arrangements. The venue will only be divulged at 6am on the day of the event. So you wake up at 6 only to get another email giving the nearest town but no more. The final destination will be sent later by dead letter drop. This for a bog standard stump speech lasting no more than 10 minutes. It’s almost as if they don’t want you there. Not that the Labour staffers aren’t unfailingly polite and chatty when you do get there. We even get offered the Labour merch du jour. A pillow case with Sunak’s face alongside the slogan “Don’t wake up to five more years of the Tories”. The stuff of nightmares. The Brave New World starts here. Labour is winning the ground war hands down. But there are strict rules. To wait where we are told to wait. Not to go wandering. The security is that tight. Five men with earpieces and who knows what else under their jackets. The police clearly think they are dealing with the next prime minister. Then, only the Govester doesn’t believe that. The event starts with an introduction from Callum Anderson, the Labour candidate for the new constituency of Buckingham and Bletchley. He looks and sounds impressive. If slightly scarily on message. Even his dreams are Labour party-approved. He will be an asset in Westminster if elected. The choice is change or more of the same, he says. Which do we want? “Change,” barks Snoopy the lakeland terrier. “Quite right,” says Callum. Though it was possible Snoopy may have been thinking of last night’s football. Starmer smiles. The football has been another part of his long-term planning. Persuade Gareth Southgate to get his squad to play like a bunch of halfwits for the first four games so everyone blames the Tories. Then switch into overdrive for the quarter-finals onwards. The Swiss don’t have a prayer. England only win trophies under a Labour government. Then Keir takes over. Repeating the same stump speech he has been making for the last five and a half weeks. You know the drill. Cost of living. Tory chaos. You can only get change if you vote for it. Apart from Labour itself. That has managed to change precisely because no one voted for it. Fourteen years of division and chaos. Take nothing for granted. There is even, for once, just a glimmer of hope in what he says. Normally he doesn’t allow this to creep in. Anything that the Tory media could portray as triumphalism is strictly off limits. It’s not over till it’s over. Obviously joy is a no-no. This isn’t an election in which anyone is meant to feel positive. What’s on offer is that things will be a little less shit than they otherwise would have been. That’ll do, I suppose. But we are now allowed some unenthusiastic hope. My kind of message. Still, why interrupt your opponent when he’s making mistakes? Sunak appears to be in meltdown. Becoming less and less classy as time goes on. Now he’s just clutching at straws. Making up all sorts of nonsense that he knows to be untrue. The latest is that Starmer will appease Putin. Not even Rish! believes that. Not even willing to lose with grace. At this rate he will have no legacy left to protect. Guardian Newsroom: Election results special. On Friday 5 July, 7.30pm-9pm BST, join Hugh Muir, Gaby Hinsliff, John Crace, Jonathan Freedland and Zoe Williams for unrivalled analysis of the general election results. Book tickets here or at theguardian.live.