The rest of the blog
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
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.
As Trump edges closer to war with Iran, the MAGA movement confronts its deepest contradiction: you can’t bomb your way to peace and still call it America First.
The far right has no intention of meeting the climate crisis—they’re not even pretending anymore. As scientists warn we have just two years left to stay within the carbon budget for 1.5C, reactionary forces double down on fossil fuels, culture war, and delay. Their politics is not about preventing collapse, but exploiting it. Climate denial has become climate opportunism—and the cost will be counted in lives.
Britain doesn’t have a problem with ambition—it has a problem with delivery, honesty, and class. HS2 is just the latest national fiasco sold as progress, then gutted behind the scenes to serve consultants, cronies and headlines.
As Trump ramps up pressure on Iran—economically, militarily, and rhetorically—he discards intelligence briefings in favour of bombast, demands a surrender he can’t define, and courts catastrophe under the banner of strategic clarity. But Iran is not Iraq, and the fantasy of collapse may end in flames, not order.
Adam Curtis’s latest series attempts to diagnose the collapse of public trust in Britain—but without his voice, a clear argument, or fresh material, Shifty drifts through the ruins of the neoliberal age, recycling fragments and offering atmosphere where once there was clarity.
Regime Collapse, Revolution—or Something Worse?
Rachel Reeves’s Spending Review and the Political Economy of Placation
This isn’t a defence strategy—it’s a subsidy for the arms industry, a performance of deterrence, and a reaffirmation of Britain’s role as obedient junior partner in the global machinery of capital.
Britain doesn’t need a softer Starmer or a greener liberalism—it needs a new party of revolutionary ecosocialism, built by those brave enough to walk out and fight for class power, not manage its decline.
Nigel Farage isn’t the voice of the working class—he’s their grifter-in-chief, selling tax cuts to the comfortable while Labour trails behind him, too timid to name the real enemy.
In Response to Jeevun Sandher’s “Radical Outsiders” Framework
A Polemic on Labour’s Immigration Turn
Some might be fooled by the swivel-eyed sermons about “free speech” or “common sense.” But Farage is no friend of workers. His party would criminalise strikes, deregulate labour protections, and deport those without paperwork faster than you can say “hostile environment.” The deeper appeal comes not from anything tangible, but from the thrill of performative cruelty.
The Labour government has not merely capitulated to the culture war—it is helping administer it. What we’re seeing is not confusion, but class discipline enforced through the language of biology
We’re not charting a path to industrial autonomy but rebranding our submission to market forces, only this time with China as scapegoat and Trump’s America waiting in the wings.
If you want to build anything, homes, transport, wind turbines, you need steel, and no serious industrial strategy can survive while leaving its production to the whims of absentee capital.