The rest of the blog
The chancellor’s proposed income tax shuffle is clever accountancy but toxic politics — a pledge-break disguised as fiscal discipline, and proof that Labour has trapped itself in rules it cannot escape.
More than 200,000 young men aren’t “signed off for life”—they are the reserve army of labour, conscripted into the Telegraph’s morality tale to prepare the ground for austerity.
David Frost calls it a new “Red Terror.” The truth is plainer: it’s the Right’s wars, coups and crackdowns that have spilt the deepest blood in politics.
Trump’s latest “kinetic strike” killed three unknown Venezuelans he labelled “narco-terrorists.” The phrase is not law but incantation, a word that strips away humanity and legitimises killing. From Vietnam body counts to Obama’s “signature strikes,” America has always named its enemies into existence, and into death.
To call Robinson’s rally “populist” or “right-wing” is to miss the point. Fascism doesn’t require every marcher to be a coherent ideologue; it requires a mass, a scapegoat, and leaders prepared to turn grievance into violence. That is what we saw in London.
The events of Saturday (13/09) prove that Britain can go fascist. Musk calls for violence, the Telegraph and Times launder his words, and Starmer clings to the flag. We must name the danger or watch it grow.
Camilla Tominey’s sainthood act for Charlie Kirk trades politics for piety. The Right already owns the machinery (press, finance, courts, police) and Kirk was part of the drive shaft. A death certificate doesn’t wash clean a career built on making violence respectable.
The ONS reports zero growth in July. The papers call it “grim news” for Rachel Reeves. In reality, it is the latest entry in a long obituary for British capitalism — a system now sustained only by euphemism, stagnation, and decline.
Hal Draper’s ‘America as Overlord’ is a study of imperial necessity, how the United States became the regulator of global capitalism, why its dominance persisted, and what happens when the system it upholds begins to fracture.
In 2024, as the old narratives collapse and the sense of waiting tightens into dread, Joan Didion’s work feels less like a record of the past than a map of the present.
Algorithmic management does not simply discipline workers; it renders the very logic of their exploitation opaque, and in Cyberboss, Craig Gent dissects this transformation with forensic precision.
What if the greatest threat to your freedom wasn’t a government decree, a criminal act, or even a political ideology, but an algorithm? The Dream Hotel, Laila Lalami’s chilling new novel, imagines a world in which surveillance capitalism governs not only what we do, but who we are allowed to be.
Histories of 1914 and the start of the First World War continue to proliferate, yet few reflect on how those histories themselves have been shaped. Perry Anderson’s Disputing Disaster is a forensic examination of how the war’s origins have been written, but what does it omit?
A whip smart and urgent examination of videogames as both a cultural force and a political battleground, Everything to Play For interrogates the industry’s contradictions: its creative potential, its exploitative labour practices, and its uncertain future in the age of AI.
The consolidation of reactionary power in the United States is not accidental or chaotic but the result of a long-term, well-funded strategy to entrench minority rule, an argument laid bare in Owned by Eoin Higgins and Money, Lies, and God Behind the Movement to Destroy American Democracy by Katherine Stewart.
Few books have shaped the conspiratorial mind like Behold a Pale Horse, and in Pale Horse Rider: William Cooper, the Rise of Conspiracy, and the Fall of Trust in America, Mark Jacobson unpacks the strange, sprawling legacy of its author, William Cooper, a man who saw the deep state before it had a name, predicted 9/11, and died in a shootout with police. But was he a prophet, a fraud, or just another victim of his own paranoia?
Nick Dyer-Witheford and Alessandra Mularoni’s Cybernetic Circulation Complex: Big Tech and Planetary Crisis, recently published by Verso, is more than a critique, it’s an intellectual war machine. They chart how the CCC has reshaped the global economy, from Amazon’s AI-driven logistics empire to the speculative bubbles propping up Tesla and Google. They expose how Big Tech’s far-right accelerationists, from Andreessen to Thiel, are using crisis to rewire the state itself. The choice, they argue, is stark: biocommunism or extinction.
Robert D. Kaplan’s Waste Land: A World in Permanent Crisis is less a serious analysis of global instability than an extended defence of imperial power, dressing up the failures of capitalism as inevitable and naturalising the dominance of Western capital as the only alternative to chaos.