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Farage wants you to believe he can fix the country. But he broke it. From Brexit to “civil disobedience,” his politics turned crisis into currency. Now he wants to cash in. Don’t buy it.
The Labour government has not criminalised violence, it has criminalised resistance. Holding a flag, wearing a slogan, even whispering “Palestine” is now suspect. But dropping bombs on children? That’s fine. If that sounds like justice to you, you’re already lost.
They gutted final salary schemes. They tied your future to the stock market. Now they want to gamble what’s left on the promise of growth that never comes. Rachel Reeves calls it “unlocking capital.” What it really means is handing over your pension to the very firms that gutted the economy in the first place.
There’s no housing to fall back on. No council flat, no affordable rent, no hope of owning. Just a threadbare pension pot and a government asking you to work longer, save more, and expect less.
Farage isn’t offering a plan, this is performance. His “law and order” blitz isn’t costed, credible, or connected to reality. It’s the politics of punishment as spectacle: build more prisons, shout louder, deport faster, sentence longer. No thought to the broken justice system, no answers on prevention or rehabilitation. Just another culture war front for a party with no economic programme and no interest in governing.
While Israel levels Gaza, the Labour government arrests pensioners in Liverpool for carrying a leaflet. Yvette Cooper calls it national security. But what we are witnessing is the suppression of solidarity, the silencing of dissent, and the transformation of protest into a punishable offence. A government that will not name a genocide is quick to jail those who do.
Moral capital was never just sympathy, it was a strategy. It allowed Israel to present itself as victim and victor, past sufferer and present enforcer. But capital is not infinite. What was once a shield has become a smokescreen. And in Gaza, that smokescreen has lifted.
The world is watching a nuclear-backed state starve and bomb a captive population, and still we are told this is security. But what happens when the story no longer convinces? What remains when the history runs out? Only the force. Only the ruin. Only the lie that it was ever anything else.
The President has weaponised billion-dollar lawsuits to silence reporting, chill satire, and punish dissent. After ABC and CBS paid out millions, The Late Show with Stephen Colbert was cancelled days after mocking a Trump settlement. Now he’s suing Murdoch and the Wall Street Journal over a sketch linked to Epstein. This isn’t about truth. It’s about fear, and who’s allowed to speak.
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.
Trump’s tariff war is not about economic nationalism, it’s a desperate attempt to prop up a failing system through class warfare, digital authoritarianism, and mass repression. As capitalism stumbles deeper into crisis, the dominant class turns to protectionism, billionaire governance, and algorithmic control to maintain its grip, ensuring that workers, migrants, and the global precariat bear the cost.
The transition is complete. The bureaucracy is being purged, executive orders rain down like decrees from a throne, and opposition is branded treasonous. The state is no longer a neutral machine for capitalist management—it is becoming an instrument of direct class war. Trump’s second term is not simply a rerun of his first; it is something darker, more disciplined, more openly repressive. The threats against political enemies are no longer bluster—they are policy. The FBI and CIA are being reshaped in his image, turned from institutions of surveillance into enforcers of ideological loyalty. Official diktats appear not just in government memos but on X, where Musk, the regime’s favoured oligarch, polls his Twitler Youth on whom to exile next. The question is no longer whether American democracy is eroding but whether we are watching its final transformation into something else entirely. Neoliberalism is collapsing, and in its ruins, a new order is emerging. The only question is: what kind?
