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.
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.
There was a time when the production line ordered more than goods, it ordered life. Work meant wages, wages meant stability, and stability gave the illusion of progress. That was Fordism. What remains now is the shell of that promise, retrofitted as nationalist fantasy. The factory is gone, but its myth has been repurposed. Not to build, but to blame.
Dugin’s latest tract is less geopolitics than geopolitical psychosis. An unhinged blend of Orthodox ultranationalism, fascist paranoia, and terminal online posting. But buried in the hallucinatory sprawl is a blueprint for what Russia’s ideological vanguard now sees as the next phase: war with Europe, justified not by security, but by metaphysics.
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.
Alexander Dugin’s Trump Revolution is less a political treatise than a fascist gospel for the post-liberal order—mythic, dangerous, and perfectly in tune with the mood of the new authoritarian right.
The fascist right can’t decide if the country is bursting at the seams or facing demographic collapse. One minute it’s “no more room”, the next it’s “have more babies”. Strip away the rhetoric, and the truth is clear: this isn’t about numbers. It’s about race and it always has been.
The United States is no longer sliding toward fascism; it is actively constructing it, one arrested judge, one silenced journalist, and one gutted civil rights protection at a time
Power posed, punishment filtered, the spectacle made beautiful.
Trump’s congressional address wasn’t just another rambling performance. It was a blueprint for a more chaotic, authoritarian world. His wavering on Ukraine signalled open season for Putin, while his economic nationalism masked a deeper agenda: consolidating power by pitting workers against each other while serving the same ruling class that fuels crisis and war. This isn’t just about Trump. It’s about a capitalist system in decay, turning to reaction and repression to sustain itself. The question isn’t whether we can stop him, it’s whether we can break the cycle before it’s too late.