Skip to content

anti capitalist musings

The rest of the blog

Grenfell Tower covered in white sheeting with large green heart symbols and the words "GRENFELL FOREVER IN OUR HEARTS" displayed at the top. A red construction lift runs vertically up the centre, with trees and lampposts in the foreground under a clear blue sky.
Britain

The Fire That Deregulation Built

Eight years on, Grenfell remains a wound that hasn’t healed. Netflix’s documentary gives voice to the survivors, while Peter Apps’s account lays bare the systemic failures that made the fire inevitable, and the justice that still hasn’t come.

A bold graphic emblem features a red silhouette of Donald Trump’s profile against a black background. His head merges into a stylised red and orange mushroom cloud, symbolising nuclear explosion. The composition is symmetrical and stark, evoking propaganda poster aesthetics.
Alexander Dugin

False Gods and Fallout: When Your Caesar Goes Globalist

Trump hasn’t changed, he’s doing what strongmen do: cutting deals, starting wars, appeasing generals. It’s Dugin who’s panicking. The fantasy’s collapsing, so he calls it a globalist takeover. The world isn’t ending. Just his script.

A cylindrical metal tin filled with bright red paint, sitting on a neutral grey surface. The paint is smooth and glossy, with the tin slightly scuffed, giving a utilitarian appearance.
direct action

Red Paint Is Not Terrorism

This is what it comes down to: the Labour government wants to put a group of activists who threw red paint at arms factories in the same legal category as ISIS.

Government Spending

Welfare Over Warfare

As Labour signs off on bombers and benefit cuts, Britain is being reshaped—not by necessity, but by choice. Welfare is being gutted while defence sails on untouched. This isn’t fiscal realism. It’s a war budget in peacetime.

A close-up image of tightly rolled newspapers stacked vertically, with dim, moody lighting and a grainy texture that gives the scene a vintage, noir atmosphere. Some headlines and columns are partially visible, adding to the sense of layered, obscured information.
Book Review

Who Gets to Tell the Story?

Journalism doesn’t need saving by those who made it toxic. Wright names the rot—Murdoch, the lobby, the Oxbridge cartel—and shows how the presses keeps running.

A dark, oil-painted 1950s-style illustration titled “Daddy’s Home” shows a stern, scowling man resembling Donald Trump standing in a doorway, holding a briefcase. He wears a black suit with a red tie and looms under dramatic lighting. To his left, a woman looks frightened, covering her mouth with her hand. In the foreground, a young boy with a furrowed brow glares angrily. The mood is tense and ominous, evoking themes of authoritarian return and domestic dread.
Donald J Trump

Daddy’s Home: Trump, NATO, and the Spectacle of Power

Trump didn’t just return to NATO; he returned as “Daddy”—a role not earned through diplomacy, but conjured through spectacle. Baudrillard warned that when image overtakes reality, politics becomes performance. The bombs may have hit Iran, but the real strike was rhetorical. What mattered wasn’t destruction, it was the appearance of obliteration, the meme of authority, the myth of restored order. In the empire of simulation, the sovereign returns not with treaties, but with merch.

Hand-painted protest signs displayed against a neutral background. One sign on brown cardboard reads “THEY SAY CUT BACK WE SAY FIGHT BACK” in bold black letters. Another, on black card, reads “NO CUTS TO PIP!” in large white letters. A third sign, painted blue and white, says “WELFARE NOT WARFARE,” with the word “NOT” inside a red prohibition circle. The style is bold, rough-edged, and defiant, evoking a DIY protest aesthetic.
Britain

Under Siege: Labour’s Crisis of Vision

Labour won power by promising stability, but what it offers now is paralysis. It has no strategy to counter Farage, no defence against a Tory right fightback, and no imagination to confront the ecological and economic shocks coming fast over the horizon. While Reform sets the agenda and the left reorganises, Starmer retreats into technocratic caution. The government is not leading Britain—it’s managing decline, and doing it badly. Unless Labour finds the courage to confront the forces tearing the country apart, it risks becoming the caretaker of its own collapse.

Front cover of the hardback version of The World After Gaza
Book Review

The World After Gaza – a short review*

Pankaj Mishra’s The World After Gaza is a searing indictment of Western complicity in Israeli aggression, exposing the ideological, economic, and political forces that have enabled the destruction of Palestine.

A vintage revolver mounted on a plain beige wooden wall, evoking the concept of Chekhov’s gun. The weapon is displayed in profile with a dark blued metal frame and a worn wooden grip, lit softly to highlight its aged, utilitarian design.

The Gospel of World War Three: Alexander Dugin and the Death Cult of Civilisation

Alexander Dugin’s latest polemic is not political analysis but fascist sermon—an apocalyptic blueprint in which nuclear war is both inevitable and desirable. Cloaked in the language of sovereignty and tradition, it is a call to arms for a new ideology of holy Russian power. What begins with Fordow ends with the end of humanity. And for that reason alone, it demands scrutiny—not celebration. You listening, tech bros?

A square-cropped image featuring the bold black text "THE SAMSON OPTION" in all capital letters on a cream background. The second "O" in "OPTION" is stylised with the upper half containing the Israeli flag and the lower half the American flag, symbolising the book’s geopolitical focus

The Bomb in the Basement, the Bomb in the Mountains: Israel, Iran, and the Nuclear Hypocrisy of the West

The next state to cross the nuclear threshold won’t be doing anything new. It’ll be following the path Israel already took—building the bomb in secret, shielded by silence and strategic utility. The real precedent was set decades ago in the Negev. That’s the hypocrisy at the heart of the so-called international order: one bomb is a threat to civilisation, the other a pillar of it. This isn’t about non-proliferation. It’s about who gets to own the apocalypse.

A stylised, screen-printed poster shows the Spanish PM in a suit walking past large NATO emblems on bold, flat panels. The image is rendered in a 1968 protest aesthetic with a grainy texture and a limited palette of red, navy blue, and beige. The composition evokes vintage political posters, with stark contrast and minimal detail emphasising the symbolism of militarism and conformity.

Only Spain Has Got It Right

At The Hague summit, NATO committed to spending 5% of GDP on defence and security by 2035—a figure with no strategic rationale and every sign of submission to Donald Trump. Only Spain said no. Pedro Sánchez broke ranks, arguing that gutting public services to fund rearmament was neither economically justifiable nor politically defensible. In doing so, he exposed what the rest of Europe won’t admit: this isn’t about defence. It’s about deference. And someone had to refuse.

A stencil-style, red monochromatic illustration split vertically into two scenes. On the left, three masked or hooded figures—one wearing a tactical vest—stand beside a Ford SUV. On the right, outside a Home Depot store, two shoppers push a trolley while another stands nearby. The entire image is rendered in a bold red on a beige background

Rendition Comes Home

Under Trump and Stephen Miller, extraordinary rendition has been refashioned for domestic use—not to fight terrorism, but to disappear the vulnerable. There are no warrants. No charges. No destinations. Just men in unmarked vans, masked and armed, taking people who often never come back. This isn’t immigration enforcement. It’s the logic of the War on Terror—secret transfers, indefinite detention, legal disappearance—turned inward. The spectacle is the point. The fear is the policy.

A menacing, cartoonish figure in a turban and beard glares forward, baring claw-like hands. The background features silhouetted Islamic architecture—minarets and domes—framing the central figure. The design mimics Cold War–era Western fear-mongering visuals.

From Reds to Revolutionary Guards: The New Bogeyman of Empire

By the time Hollywood started scripting Iran as its newest bogeyman, the Cold War playbook had already been written. The turbans replaced fur hats, the chants swapped in for Russian-accented threats, but the role remained the same: the unknowable enemy, forever at the gates. From Argo to Homeland, Iran is less a country than a plot device—violent, duplicitous, irredeemably foreign. Yet in the shadow of this narrative, exiled Iranian filmmakers are doing something far more dangerous than propaganda: they’re telling the truth.

A large black-and-white graffiti mural of a young Mike Tyson is painted on the side of a red brick building in New York. The mural shows Tyson before his face tattoo era, capturing his youthful intensity with a stern expression and strong jawline. His name, “MIKE TYSON,” appears in bold white capital letters beside the portrait. The building features classic urban architecture with fire escapes, giving the scene a gritty 1980s New York atmosphere. A streetlamp stands in the foreground, adding to the mural’s dramatic presence.

The Beast in the Bleachers

Mike Tyson was never just a boxer—he was a system made flesh. Mark Kriegel’s Baddest Man understands this: it’s not a redemption tale but an anatomy of spectacle, where a traumatised boy from Brownsville is forged into a global icon of violence, repackaged as entertainment, and finally rebranded for profit