
Rachel Reeves and the 2p Trap
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.
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.
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.
Trump’s return to power signals not just a political shift but a profound restructuring of the American state—one that fuses corporate power with authoritarian governance. This transformation, driven by figures like Elon Musk and the influence of think tanks such as the Heritage Foundation, represents the latest stage in capital’s ongoing march towards unaccountable dominance.
Picture a once-mighty empire, stripped to its underwear. Once hailed for its democratic values and global reach, the United States now staggers beneath the weight of its own contradictions—its institutions hollowed out, its alliances squandered, its climate left to burn. In the aftermath of a second Trump presidency, what was once dismissed as political theatre has morphed into a crisis so profound that even the most reluctant observers must confront the truth: the old order cannot endure.
The assassination attempt on Donald Trump has spotlighted a troubling paradox: why do liberal institutions and figures often defend fascist politicians, even when these politicians espouse values antithetical to liberalism? This article delves into the inherent contradictions within liberalism that lead it to shield authoritarian figures like Trump, arguing that these actions reveal a deeper alignment with capitalist interests and a fear of revolutionary change.
The UK government’s attack on dissent and protest rights echoes a long history of state suppression, revealing a deep fear of the power of a mobilised working class.
On a seemingly ordinary Thursday, at the time-honoured Glyndebourne opera festival, an unexpected interlude of protest emerged. In the sanctuary of the arts, amid the melody of Francis Poulenc’s Dialogues des Carmélites, a dissenting chorus brought the opera to a standstill. Sparked by the cause of Just Stop Oil, the interruption blended a traditional form of high culture with the pressing concerns of our era. This is the narrative of that day, a symphony of dissent resounding from the grand opera house to the streets of London.
This post explores the growing threat of creeping fascism in the UK political landscape, particularly within the Conservative Party. It examines recent actions by the government, including the exclusion of critical media outlets from the Home Secretary’s trip to Rwanda and the policy to deport asylum seekers, in light of the “creeping fascism” thesis. The post argues that the Tories’ use of jingoistic and anti-immigrant rhetoric is a deliberate tactic to distract from the real issues facing the UK and consolidate their power.
Amidst the drip-drip of fear and hatred in our current political climate, Suella Braverman’s chilling words serve as a stark reminder of the inhumanity that lies at the heart of power.
It’s a classic case of power versus principle, and the stakes have never been higher. In the end, it’s not just about football – it’s about the very soul of our democracy.
Fascism is still a threat today, and we must call out its leaders and followers for what they are: Nazis.