There are some truly classic episodes. The poignancy and humanity of ‘A Quiet Night In’, when first-time inmate Lennie Godber is moved into ‘habitual criminal’ Norman Fletcher’s cell, and they form one of sitcom’s most enduring surrogate father/son relationships. There’s the one where, after years inside, old lag Blanco finally finishes making the toy rocking horse for his, now fully grown up, daughter. The stolen pills, the Christmas hooch, the one where the pineapple chunks go missing and an incredulous Fletcher utters the immortal line. ‘There’s a thief among us.’

Writers Dick Clement and Ian La Frenais never failed to come up with delightfully unlikely scenarios to challenge the inmates and staff of HMP Slade, but even they never conjured up a plotline where Godber, Warren, and Lukewarm are forced to convert to Islam.

According to the Daily Telegraph one in five of the Muslims in British prisons is now a white man.

Which seems a lot.

To be honest there could be many reasons why so many white prisoners have turned to Islam. Maybe the food is better. Maybe they appreciate not having to waste their valuable time choosing which book to borrow from the prison library. Maybe the love starved lags are salivating at the thought of those alluring ladies’ fashions, waiting for them when they get out.

Who knows?

Well Top Tory Nick Timothy says he does. He’s recently completed a study into the issue and concluded that the main reason so many white prisoners are joining the Religion of Peace, is intimidation, coercion, and violence.

It seems that if an inmate doesn’t agree to convert, then Mohammed’s friendly emissaries are likely to ambush him in the showers, and beat the living Inshallah out of him.

So who can blame them for signing up?

I mean, I was brought up Catholic, but readily admit that if I found myself cornered in a dank cell by three shivved up men called Mo, all gently suggesting I reconsider my life choices, and abandon my English heritage for life’s halal option, I would quickly point myself in the direction of Mecca, drop to my prayer mat, and swear off the pigs in blankets. All in less time than it takes, to firebomb a Jewish ambulance.

In response to Nick Timothy’s report, the Ministry of Justice patiently explained to the Daily Telegraph

“We do not tolerate intimidation, gang activity or faith-based coercion of any kind in our prisons.

Which is a bit like the Duchess of Sussex claiming that she doesn’t tolerate publicity.

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Of course it’s not just our prisons, other vital British institutions, like our higher education system, have also been taken over by malign forces.

Do you remember Cambridge University?

That’s right, the once prestigious seat of learning which has, thanks to the tireless efforts of its Janus faced faculty, and the unrivalled, copying-other-people’s-work skills of the late Professor Arday, now become the peer reviewed world-leader in the rigorous academic discipline, of Bullshitology.

Well, determined not to stop trashing its own academic reputation until it has descended to the level of an under-five’s Reading Corner, Cambridge has appointed as assistant research professor, Farah Ahmed, at one time a key member of banned Islamist terrorist group, Hizb ut-Tahrir.

Prof Ahmed once explained that

Muslims should study engineering and computers ‘to produce advanced weaponry for Jihad in order that the deen [Islam] may dominate over all other deens.’

Wow. There hasn’t been a professor this messed up, since Snape.

At least Jason Arday’s ambitions ended at cocking out with the unbearable Stella Creasy MP on BBC Question Time.

He didn’t want to start an actual Holy War.

And I don’t think I’ll need to work hard to convince you that our immigration system is also fundamentally broken.

We’re used to hearing stories of crooks, terrorists, and crims being granted ‘indefinite leave to remain’ once they’re here. But migrants are also appealing to our courts, for the right to come in the first place

Top lawyers (who I assume you paid for), recently helped a Sudanese woman, Isra Abdallah Ibrahim, deploy Article 8 of the European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR) to argue in court that she has the right to come and live in Britain.

The case hinged, in part, on the legitimacy of a ‘customary Islamic marriage” to her own cousin in Sudan, fifteen years ago.

You might think that being married to their own cousin might be grounds not to grant someone entry to your country. But then you’d be forgetting one key factor.

You are living in modern Britain. And nothing makes sense anymore.

Mrs Ibrahim couldn’t even prove her incestuous marriage actually took place. Because she claimed

‘it was “local tradition” not to record the marriage’.

Yup. Sounds plausible.

In other news, I’m currently dating a top Swedish movie star lingerie model, but you’ve never met her, because, yeah, she goes to a different school.

Look. I don’t want to impinge on Mrs Ibrahim’s good character. I’m sure she’s an absolutely lovely lady (Welcome to Britain Mrs Ibrahim, I hope you enjoy all the free stuff!), but our inability to deny entry to undesirables, let alone deport them once they’ve arrived, has left our country drowning under a wave of crime, including rapes, assaults, and other sexual offences.

Many on the right have accused the Labour government of attempting to cover up the full extent of this law-breaking. Claiming that Andy Burnham’s government has taken to the courts to block the publication of up-to-date figures which would unequivocally reveal which nationalities are committing the most sex crimes.

Spoiler Alert: It’s the Eritreans and Afghans. And all the other ones you think it might be. Plus the Moldavians, for some reason.

But this is only true to the extent that it is ‘a fact’.

And if the Arday debacle has taught us anything, it’s that in modern Britain, irrefutable, but inconvenient facts, either don’t count, are racist, or have often been fabricated by the right-wing press, to unfairly besmirch the otherwise spotless reputations of blameless liars, crooks, cheats, and plagiarists.

Anyway. Reports from 2025 (which I drew on above) revealed that Afghan and Eritrean nationals are twenty times more likely to commit a sexual crime than British citizens. And that

‘Overall, foreign nationals [are] 71 per cent more likely than Britons to be responsible for sex crime convictions.’

These figures are truly shocking. And so it is no wonder that the British government has sprung into action and done literally everything in its power to halt the carnage.

For a start it has tried smearing anyone who has the temerity to complain loudly about it, as a ‘far right thug’. While dismissing blameless schoolgirl victims as little more than ‘child prostitutes’.

It has produced far-fetched dramas cutting-edge documentaries, promoting the idea that this avalanche of violent misogyny is all the result of angel-faced teenagers watching Andrew Tate on YouTube.

It has tried censoring the internet, banning social media, snooping on our phone calls, scanning our messages, and spying on your mum’s Facebook page.

It has been attacking free speech, slagging off Elon Musk, arresting protesters, calling people ‘gammons’, closing Nigel Farage’s bank accounts, throwing £600 million at the French, and banning England flags.

It has desperately attempted to bring back blasphemy laws, to arrest people for ‘Islamophobia’, and imprison people for ‘hate speech’.

It has even tried moving thousands of sex starved, fighting age, foreign men from hotels next to schools, to HMOs next to different schools, to see if that helps.

But for some unfathomable reason, none of these thoughtful, targeted, and proportionate measures have succeeded in stemming the unprecedented tide of sexual assault, violence, and rape.

Still, not to be deterred, rubbish new Prime Minister Andy Burnham has redoubled his efforts, had a good old think, and come up with a brilliant new solution.

He’s issued a leaflet.

Targeting violent men from shitty countries blameless refugees fleeing war, the leaflet is called ‘Understanding Behaviours and Expectations in the UK’.

It helpfully explains to the very same people who Andy Burnham has promised to send to ‘every postcode’, that they shouldn’t rape people.

I nearly said ‘women’ but of course these guys don’t limit their rapes to women, they will also happily target girls, boys, and I’m sure we were all delighted to discover this week, old men outside churches.

I guess diversity, really is their strength.

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The leaflet starts by acknowledging that coming to a new country ‘can be difficult’.

No doubt. Especially for anyone already living here, who doesn’t want to be raped.

It then goes on to explain some nuanced, complicated, and difficult philosophical concepts, surrounding consent,

‘If you have sex with someone without their consent, this is called rape. Rape is a serious crime in the UK. You could go to prison, lose your support and accommodation, and it will affect your asylum’.

Fair enough. But the thing that most strikes me about this leaflet is not the way it reduces serious sexual assault to a silly cultural faux pas. As if it is being committed by well-meaning, but ignorant tourists.

You know, like showing the soles of your feet to the Japanese, giving a clock to the Chinese, or being polite to the French.

It’s how it presents the concept of not raping people with all the moral imperative of a government information film, about remembering to service your gas boiler.

I read the whole thing, and there is no moral framework whatsoever. Sure, it talks of ‘crime’.

But there is no mention of good or evil. No use of the words, ‘right or wrong’.

Migrants are counselled not to rape, not because it is in itself bad, or the devastating effect it would have on another human being, or even simply because it is wrong, but because it could affect their ‘asylum claim’.

Committing a serious sexual offence is to be avoided, not because it is an inherently evil act, but because a conviction could, (and only ‘could’) become a block to subsidised housing. A potential impediment to receiving free money from the British state.

It’s clear our nation’s essential institutions, our courts, our prisons, our police force, and our education system, along with the Home Office, armed forces, NHS, tax system, and civil service, have either surrendered themselves to the misanthropic ideology of the far-left, have become captured by anti-British extremists, or have simply ceased to function.

In no small part because our elites have abandoned any sense of right and wrong, any notion of good vs evil, in favour of an ever fungible, post-modernist slop, an always negotiable, be-kind, brand of progressive moral relativism.

Surely something has gone catastrophically wrong with our country, when in 2026 literally the very best argument the Labour government can come up with, for why you shouldn’t rape someone, is that it might affect your benefits.

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That’s about all we’ve got time for today. But before you go, if you’ve got a minute, I have a little story for you.

Imagine there is a town next to your town.

Your town is called Inventor Town because all the world’s biggest inventions came from there. And the next door town is Murderville.

There is a fast flowing river between the two. And it’s a very long way round. So you’ve never been to Murderville. And no one from there, has ever visited you.

Then one day someone builds a bridge. And people start coming across.

You wonder if there should be some checks on who is allowed to cross the bridge, but the Mayor of Inventor Town says, Nope.

That would be discrimination. And that’s nasty. Anyone can come across anytime, and stay for as long as they like.

But, you ask, where will they live?

And the Mayor says, you know all the houses we built for the poor people of Inventor Town from the proceeds of our brilliant inventions? They can live in those. And you say, but where will the Inventor Town people live? And the Mayor says, stop being racist or we’ll put up a giant list of all the racists in the Town Square and everyone will hate you.

So you shut up.

Then the murders start.

The people from Murderville don’t even deny it. Yes they say, we did do those murders. We actually love murder. It’s kind of like ‘our thing’. The clue is in our name. And the way we go on about murder, and murdering people, literally all the time.

And you say, look, they’re literally telling us they want to murder us. And the Mayor says, yes silly, but they don’t actually mean it. And it’s not all of them. Most are perfectly nice. Besides we’ve had the odd murder of our own over the years, so stop fussing you big bigot. It’s no big deal.

Then some people from Murderville all get together and murder a load of children at the village fete.

And the Mayor says that’s sad, really super sad, really really super sad. Perhaps the village fete wasn’t being welcoming enough to the people from Murderville. So actually, it’s sort of our own fault.

And she bans the village fete, just to make sure everyone is safe. And replaces it with a new, exciting, diverse celebration instead, called Murderfest. Which is bloody brilliant fun to be honest. The food is amazzzzing!

And by the next week hardly anyone mentions the murdered children anymore.

And if you ever do, you make extra sure to caveat your comments by mentioning that most people from Murderville are perfectly nice, and have just been held back in life, because unlike you, they didn’t invent anything. But that doesn’t matter, because all your inventions were super crap and racist anyway. And you make a special effort to get to know some people from Murderville, and sure, they do actually seem perfectly nice. Lovely even.

Then, they murder you.

And everyone pretends not to notice. But to make sure it never, ever happens again, the Mayor of Inventor Town takes all the money you had wanted to leave to your kids.

And spends it, building another bridge.

****************************************************************

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Thank you as ever, to everyone who presses it and leaves such lovely messages along with their coffee.

I’m feeling a bit worn out right now. So I might take a bit of a break for the end of the summer. The only thing is, I always say that, but I never do.

So I’ll see you here, or on Notes soon. Or in the comments right now.

Thanks so much for coming. I really, genuinely appreciate you taking the time to read my stuff.

All the best

LSO.

And I’m glad I haven’t made the trip, because the Daily Telegraph doesn’t paint a very appealing picture.

‘The misery of daily life in Loon-Plage is plain to see, with mounds of rubbish littering the rat-infested camp’.

Which, to be honest, makes it sound like an upmarket, Birmingham.

And if that wasn’t bad enough, things at this sordid shantytown have recently taken a turn for the worse.

Because it was on Loon-Plage (Which translates perfectly as ‘Loony Beach’), where the asylum seeker circus turned into a literal clown show.

One led by a 67 year old, yellow dungareed Dutch clown called Laurence Quitel, who subjected the line of queuing migrants to a cringeworthy hilarious display of tumbling, prat-falling, miming, and mummering, to their utter indifference, dismay, and general disinterest.

Sounds grim. Imagine you’re a blameless forty five year old gay Afghan teenager, waiting patiently in the blistering heat, and squalor of a Calais migrant camp for people smugglers, charity workers, NGOs, French policemen, and the British Border Force to all get their acts together, and whisk you across the channel to England, where you will finally be able to get your hands on all that much-promised free stuff and schoolgirls, when this nauseating troupe of do-gooding harlequins show up.

I’m no bleeding heart liberal. But surely these poor Iraqi torturers, Somalian war criminals, Eritrean sex offenders, and Sudanese women stoners, have already suffered enough.

The good news is that the unlucky migrants won’t have to put up with these punchable Punchinellos for much longer.

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Not now that their odyssey from the shell scarred battlefields of war torn France, to the life affirming contents of your wallet, promises to be expedited by canny human traffickers’ latest innovation.

The 230 seater mega dinghy.

Inflatables which are so jaw-droppingly immense, each trip features a cabaret from Jane MacDonald. And the only real danger their lucky passengers face, is catching hantavirus from the buffet.

It seems clear that the resolutely unsmashed gangs, human traffickers, and Deliveroo recruiters, infesting Calais have finally realised something that the rest of us have known for years; that despite the Tories and their stupid, unworkable ‘Rwanda scheme’, the £660m we’ve pointlessly thrown at Emmanuel Macron and his mum, and whatever nonsense new plan Shabana Mahmood is promoting this week, the hapless British government lacks the strategy, resources, and let’s be honest, will, to halt their grim trade.

And emboldened by British uselessness, the traffickers have decided to have a laugh at our expense.

Seeing this mega dinghy drift across the Channel reminds me of those terrifying YouTube videos where hordes of yoof descend en masse in an organised, carnival of chaos, to ransack a JD Sports, or an upmarket sneaker shop, while the impotent security staff and rainbow cucked police, look on impassively from a safe distance, weak, inert, and powerless.

This is the illegal immigration version of that. A brazen display of might, a gleefully insulting show of force.

Because the introduction of these mega-dinghies leaves us under no illusion who is actually in control of the English Channel.

And it clearly isn’t (what’s left of) the Royal Navy, the British government, or Andy Burnham.

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In fact, our government is not simply a passive observer of this whole sorry enterprise. It is a complicit, active, motivated, and committed, participant.

You could be forgiven for imagining that this mega dinghy rocked up at Dover and all these illegal immigrants, ( I’m refusing to call anyone arriving from France an ‘asylum seeker’. What are they seeking asylum from? Garlic, and bad manners?), quickly leapt off, and scampered up the beach, in a desperate attempt to evade capture by steadfast British authorities.

But nothing could be further from the truth.

These Aggronauts didn’t even have to make it halfway across the Channel before their vast vessel was intercepted by Border Farce, and obligingly escorted the entire rest of the way, to your waiting wage packet.

Because it might sound like tough, militaristic language, but essentially these migrants are ‘intercepted’ mid Channel, much the same way, that when you go on holiday, you are ‘intercepted’ at Mallorca airport by the shuttle bus to your hotel.

The only difference being, you have to pay for your hotel.

But not to worry. Prime Minister Andy Burnahm has a brilliant new plan.

No silly. He’s not going to ‘stop the boats’. Leave the ECHR. Deport illegal migrants. Lock them up. Send them to a third country. Or even ask them super nicely to go home.

Nope, he’s going to do something even better.

He’s going to dump thousands of unvetted, foreign men on middle-class communities around the country. Just to see how they like it.

Burnham told GB News

‘We cannot have a situation where it’s only the poorest communities in the country that receive all of the dispersal of refugees and asylum seekers. I do believe all parts of the country need to work to play their part.’

I don’t know about you but I feel I’ve already ‘played my part’.

I’ve spent the last decade and a half paying eye watering levels of tax to fund a government policy I’ve been consistently voting against for the last fifteen years.

And I’d take issue with his use of language. Specifically ‘refugees’.

The far left are masters at using language to manipulate emotions, reinforce their ideology, and advance the preferred narrative.

That’s how climate change became a ‘climate apocalypse’, lockdown sceptics were rebranded as ‘anti vaxxers’, and mutilating children became ‘gender affirming care’.

In much the same way illegal immigrants have been recast as morally unimpeachable ‘asylum seekers’ (so much less pejorative than ‘hotel demanders’), and now Burnham is attempting to reframe the issue once again, by (re)renaming them ‘refugees’.

Likewise Angela Rayner has just claimed that all these illegal migrants are ‘desperate vulnerable people.’

No Ange, they’re simply not.

We can see quite plainly with our own eyes that these migrants are almost always fit, aggressive, young men, chancers from alien, usually violent, uniformly misogynistic, and frankly uncivilised cultures, who only keep turning up on our shores because people like Angela Rayner, Andy Burnham, and the rest of the Asylum Seeker Industrial Complex keep enticing them here by offering them a life of comparative ease and luxury, all funded by other people’s money.

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But back to Burnham’s dispersal plan. And on one level Our Andy makes a fair point.

Of the ten councils with the highest number of asylum hostels, hotels, and HMOs, nine of them are in the most deprived parts of the country.

And everyone cheered, I know I did, when Reform suggested siting migrant camps in Green voting areas and other places full of be-kind liberals, Palestinian flag shaggers, blue haired zealots, and haughty, pinch faced gammonophobes.

So he’s right to ask why already deprived areas should be forced to take on the brunt of this invasion.

But as ever, Labour is responding to a problem of its own making in the only way it knows how, with a combination of spite, class warfare, and malice.

Because we all know when Burnham says ‘middle-class areas’, what he actually means are nice places in the South East, near a private school, which vote Conservative. Or even more unforgivably, Reform.

A Downing Street source told The Telegraph: “Andy feels that the current system is unfair, and as a point of principle,he wants to see a redress of the distribution.

Sorry Andy. I know Labour loves a race to the bottom, (Something something Keir Starmer, something something Ukrainian rent boys), but ensuring middle-class mums get accosted on their way back from Waitrose, at the same time as working-class girls are assaulted on their way home from school, does not suddenly make it ‘fair’.

A few short weeks ago our new prime minister promised us ‘hope in every heart, and growth in every postcode’.

But it turns out that when he said ‘hope’ and ‘growth,’ what he really meant was ‘fear,’ and ‘a Eritrean sex offender.’

Andy Burnham reminds me of Oprah Winfrey, that time she dispensed a brand new car to each and every member of her studio audience. Only we’re the British public, and Andy’s not dishing out cars.

‘You get a rapist. You get a rapist. Everybody gets a rapist!!!’

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Listen Andy, we don’t want hordes of violent foreign men dispersed equally across our country. We want no violent foreign men, and the only country we want them equally dispersed across, is Syria.

Not content with flooding our nations most upmarket streets, and leafiest villages with newly arrived men from barbaric, lawless backwaters, Andy Burnham is also hellbent on releasing back onto our streets, thousands upon thousands of the vicious criminals, sex offenders, and murderers, the police have already caught and locked up.

Let’s remind ourselves why he’s doing this. And why Shabana Mahmood already did it once, two years ago, to predictably ill effect.

It’s because there are now so many criminals in this country, that all the prisons are completely full up.

Now please forgive me for my coarse language. But I think I speak for the majority of British people when I say, sorry, but I literally could not give a shit.

It’s not ideal. And I’m certainly not a ‘hang ‘em and flog ‘em’ type.

But if rapists have to be squashed in five to a cell. If eight murderers have got to share a leaky bucket for a toilet. If terrorists have to be stacked six high in a cell made for two. And if we have to shove them into damp, unsanitary prison cells, the way those Japanese squishers shove commuters onto Tokyo tube trains.

Then so be it.

The solution cannot be to simply wait until our prison system is so overwhelmed with bad guys that it cannot cope, and then let them back onto our streets, to cause mayhem and murder under the nose of our useless, supine, captured, and indifferent, two tier police ‘service’.

It’s a trade-off, and if we have to choose between risking the lives of Britain’s law abiding nanas, and risking the discomfort of convicted crooks, copkillers, terrorists, and sex offenders, then sorry liberals, call me a monster if you like, but to me it’s a no brainer.

Don’t get me wrong, we absolutely need a humane prison system, with adequate capacity to cope with the current crime wave.

So let’s build some prisons.

But we can’t. Because our bloated, dysfunctional, state refuses to let itself. Our planning system, like the rest of government, has got its priorities completely wrong.

For instance, I’m pretty sure that the people who stamped their feet and insisted we spend £100 million constructing that HS2 bat tunnel, are ultimately the very same people who balk at granting us permission to build any more crook warehouses.

It’s clear to anyone who cares to look, that our asylum crisis, and our prison crisis are essentially two sides of the same coin.

Which is why the government has taken to the courts in an attempt to hide the statistics which would reveal the true extent of the migrant crime wave currently blighting this country.

But you don’t need to dig into a load of redacted statistics to see the reality of what all this is doing to our once-proud nation.

Just head to the heart of or capital city, Trafalgar Square, (where, younger readers might be surprised to learn, we celebrate the victory of the British navy against would-be invaders from France), which has just been swaddled in diversity barriers, weapon arches, and anti personnel bollards, all in the forlorn hope of stopping the next foreign-inspired atrocity.

Which, when it does inevitably happen, we will be forbidden from mentioning, and immediately compelled to forget.

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Let’s leave it there.

These illegal migrants might be very different from us, but surely there is one thing the majority of foreign men suffering through the clown show at Calais share with most regular British voters.

They share in the incredulity that the British government can be so stupid, so inept, so traitorous, and so contemptuous of its own people, culture, values, and laws, that it will effectively offer free board, accommodation, and healthcare for life, no strings attached, to literally any unvetted man, from any failed corner of the globe, who can be bothered to turn up on a giant inflatable.

So let’s not blame the chancers boarding mega dinghies on French beaches, the human traffickers who service them, or the gendarmes who wave them on their way.

Let’s instead blame those who are ultimately responsible for all this misery; the British government.

Which continues to pledge to do literally everything within its power to prevent illegal immigrants crossing the English Channel, except of course the one thing that would actually make a difference.

It won’t stop inviting them.

*********************

Thank you for reading Low Status Opinions. If you enjoyed this article, then I would ask you to please share it with your friends, restack it, or give it a like. This way I can find new readers and keep this Substack going.

Please also consider subscribing, there are no paywalls here, everything is free, unless you want to become a paid subscriber and support me that way. Many thanks to everyone who subscribes.

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That’s it for now. I hope you’re still enjoying global warming, as much as I am.

See you in the comments.

LSO

So far, he’s managed to avoid most journalists’ interviews, all parliamentary questions, and any democratic scrutiny, so we can’t be exactly sure which destructive, calamitous, wealth-chomping route, his grim grinning government will take, as it trundles Binbag Britain ever closer to its doom.

His strategy seems to be; house the homeless, help the hapless, and hire the hopeless.

We can perhaps gain a little insight by taking note of which also-rans, second raters, no hopers, makeweights, and hasbeens, he has retained from Keir Starmer’s freakshow of failure.

And which ghastly inadequates, petty crooks, innumerate midwits, time servers, envy peddlers, yes men, lightweights, and nobodies, Burnham has dusted off, revivified, and promoted up the Labour ranks, to form his piss poor pretorian guard.

First the good news. After years of stinking up the place with his lunatic Net Zero policies, Ed Miliband has been sent into exile, like a latter-day Edward de Vere. Only to be replaced at Energy by the equally unhinged Maitta Fanbullah. A far left enviro-zealot, and fan of Universal Basic Income, (for you certainly, though I expect not so much for her), who can’t get through the first paragraph of a New Statesman interview without railing against ‘middle class white men’- you know, the sort of guy her new boss is pretending not to be.

Misery mongering maths mangler Rachel Reeves has been replaced by Jon Healey. A wizened walnut of a man who looks like he’d be more comfortable with a knotted hanky on his head in a 70s public information film about Seaside Safety, than driving our economy, full tilt, into a landfill.

Convicted fraudster Louise Haigh has been elevated to Burnham’s consigliere. While in other news ministers have been issued strict instructions to hand in their phones before cabinet meetings. Not for security reasons, but just to stop Louise Haigh from nicking them.

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Meanwhile, Wide Faced Wes Streeting, a man so transparent and shallow that leading Tibetans predict he will be reincarnated as a puddle, has been made Defence Secretary. That distant sound you can hear, is Putin shaking in his boots.

Our Ange is back as Secretary of State for Housing. The very same role she was forced to resign from in disgrace last year, after she was caught dodging her property taxes failed to understand the basic tax rules which applied by her own department.

Rayner was even handed a whopping £17,000 government pay-off for the inconvenience of getting found out. Because that’s just how things work, for people who aren’t you.

Now Ange is refusing to pay it back on the grounds that vapes don’t buy themselves you know Babes. Or something.

But by far the most interesting appointment was no appointment at all.

Shabana Mahmood retains her role as Home Secretary.

I put my hands up. I had Shabana down for Chancellor. I didn’t think there was any way that Burnham would replace ‘the first female chancellor’ with a fella. Even Wes. And I figured that at the Treasury, Mahmood’s ability to at least project no nonsense practical efficiency, would be usefully deployed as a counterpoint to Burnham’s profligacy, and as a bulwark against bond market wobbles.

But anyway, I was wrong. Which shows what I know. So to be honest, you might as well stop reading now.

Just like his predecessor, (Keith something? It’s already becoming a sort of dull blur), Burnham seems keen to silo off Britain’s immigration crisis with his Home Secretary. Presumably so that at a moment of maximum political peril, Mahmood can be jettisoned, her ‘far-right’ policies along with her, like Scotty ejecting an overheating warp core in Star Trek, all without contaminating the Burnham brand.

Meanwhile we are constantly reminded by the mainstream press, political commentators, and Mahmood herself, that when it comes to illegal immigration, Labour’s past and future Home Secretary is tough, uncompromising, and effective.

Truly a girl who gets it done.

But is she really? I’m not so sure.

Remember, this hard nosed Home Secretary represents a government which during a housing crisis of its own making, (also big shout out to the Tories for doing their bit, and it was a big bit), decided to hand an entire estate full of brand new £250,000 houses, over to illegal immigrants.

And only U-turned when locals got wind of it and kicked up a stink.

And she’s the takes-no-shit Home Secretary of a British government which is paying the French £662 million to ‘stop the boats’, even as we learned this week, that as long suspected, French border police have been told explicitly by the very people we’re paying, not to stop the boats.

But maybe I’m being unfair. Both these policies predate Mahmood, and she has recently dazzled us with a tsunami of tough proposals designed to bring down the numbers of asylum seekers flooding across the channel.

So in the spirit of fairness and impartiality, let’s take a look at a couple.

In an effort to discourage foreign freeloaders, Mahmood has announced that from now on asylum seekers will be ‘forced’ to pay back £10,000 of their hotel costs before they can be allowed to settle in Britain. I believe this is an excellent proposal, but with two minor caveats.

A.) It is utter nonsense. B.) It will never ever happen.

Not only is £10,000 a tiny fraction of the £140,000 the average asylum seeker costs the economy over their long, taxpayer funded lifetime. But you don’t have to be Lord Hermer (Sacked Yes!!!!. Come on Andy!!) to know that any half decent human rights lawyer could burn through £500,000 of legal aid in a single afternoon, arguing that such unenforceable demands would be an unacceptable breach of an Eritrean rapist’s human rights.

And even if the courts did upheld the order. Which they would never ever do. Where exactly does Mahmood suppose this mythical £10,000 is coming from? From a Somalian soldier’s bulging Bitcoin wallet? An Afghan goatherder’s Space X shares? A Sudanese sex offender’s babysitting money? I doubt it.

This idea also seems a bit of a Trojan Horse; an excuse to issue work visas to asylum seekers. Ostensibly so that they would be able to ‘pay their own way’. Of course doing so would simply provide activist judges with yet another pretext to let them stay, while creating a whole new pull factor for other potential migrants.

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Perhaps Mahmood’s most madcap proposal is her plan to halt the flow of asylum seekers entering the country, by importing more asylum seekers into the country.

The Home Secretary is promising to vastly expand the use of that favourite progressive totem, the shibboleth of ‘safe and legal routes’.

And to ensure that only the brightest and best Iraq torturers, Eritrean sex pests, and Somalian warlords make it to these shores, a new scheme will allow vape shops, money launderers, and Turkish barbers businesses, charities and community groups to ‘sponsor’ an immigrant, and so choose, who exactly gets to come.

Mahmood is at pains to point out that the sponsors will be responsible for the immigrants’ upkeep, housing, and good behaviour.

Yes, for a year.

After which they will no doubt be dumped on the British taxpayer, to make way for the next lucrative shipment of indentured human chattel.

We’re also assured that the government will be ‘relieving pressure’ on the overwhelmed asylum system by leaving the ECHR and overhauling asylum laws creating a new, Independent Immigration Appeals Authority.

Where who gets to stay (everyone) and who is asked to leave (no one) is to be decided by a ‘specially trained’ panel of laypeople, recruited from a wide range of diverse backgrounds, professions, and local communities.

Sounds good.

So who exactly will get to sit on these ‘people’s panels?’

You might assume people from those communities worst affected by asylum seeker hostels, hotels, and HMOS will be handed priority seats. Surely those citizens who have had hundreds of incompatible, often violent, and anti social foreign men, dumped on their doorstep should probably be the ones who get to decide who gets to stay.

Or how about populating these committees with the good people of Clacton, Southport, Ulster, and Southampton? Those are ‘local communities’ which seem keen to express an opinion on this issue.

Of course these people will never get a look in.

Because if you think any of these august panels will boast a single person who can even bear to look at an England flag without retching, then I have a safe and reliable £5m Ajax reconnaissance vehicle to sell you.

Instead these committees will be captured out of the gate, stuffed to the gills with a hand picked coven of shrill voiced Guardian readers, Hope Not Hate apparachiks, self appointed ‘community leaders’, activist charities, open borders lobbyists, and hands-in-the-till ‘stakeholders’.

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All this is coming at a time when the Department of Justice is fighting tooth and nail to hide from you the government statistics which would reveal which foreign nationals are committing the most crime.

Spoiler Alert: It ain’t the Norwegians.

With new Justice Minister Alex Norris’ (Nope, literally no idea) department working hard to

‘overturn a ruling by the Information Commissioner that data revealing the full scale of foreign offending in England and Wales from 2018 to 2024 should be published’.

That the government, Labour and Tory, has been so desperate to hide these figures from the public, and instead flood us with misinformation, propaganda, and platitudes, tells its own story.

If the numbers weren’t potentially explosive. If there really was no migrant crime wave. Then they wouldn’t need to cover it up.

The government is justifying hiding this information from you on the grounds that

‘some of the data could lead to the identification of individuals in breach of their rights to privacy if it was published’.

Right.

So just to clarify, this is the same government which is so unconcerned with your right to privacy, it is aggressively and enthusiastically implementing legislation to effectively grant itself the power to read your messages and e mails, trawl through your photos, and bug your phone, whether you are being investigated for a crime or not.

And yet has taken to the courts to forcefully defend the privacy and sensibilities of foreign-born crooks, drug dealers, and sex offenders.

And call me a monster, but I don’t have a huge problem with the public being able to easily ‘identify’ violent criminals, groomers, and rapists, who the authorities might be moving, under cover of darkness, into an HMO in their street.

This is not ‘right-wing scaremongering’, this is our own government, using the full force of the law to conceal a genuine and growing threat, from the British people.

But don’t take my word for it, our enemies will tell you themselves.

We might not consider ourselves to be at war with Iran. But rest assured, Iran considers itself at war with us. And to prove the point the Iranian government has been boasting how it is literally exporting terrorists to Britain using the small boat route.

Still our ruling class refuses to listen. Even when the terrorists themselves helpfully go out of their way to explain their intentions and motivations.

Last week in Berlin, a self-professed member of an ‘Islamist group’, drove into a Pride March, killing one and injuring dozens of others. A couple of days later a crazed knife man ran through Paris, stabbing women at random, helpfully explaining as he went that

‘Allah commanded me’

Of course no one in authority was listening.

Florian Nath, the Berlin police spokesman, claimed that when it came to Islamist Abdul B, the Pride attacker,

“we still have no information whatsoever regarding his specific motives… “

And then Labour MP, Kate Osborne stepped in, seeming to suggest that such atrocities are the inevitable consequence of the proles being allowed to watch GB News. Claiming that,

‘GB News sprouting nonsense broadcasting content’ contributed to ‘language that attacks and vilifies the LGBTQ+ community’.

Thanks Kate, but sorry, and I don’t mean to yuk your political yum, but perhaps the ‘LGBTQ+ community’ closely allying itself with Islamists, homophobes, and wife-stoners might actually be more of an issue.

In the end, it wasn’t the far-left’s enemies who attacked the Berlin Pride parade. It was its friends.

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Let’s leave it there.

Mahmood might sound tough on illegal immigration, but she seems more concerned with providing ‘safe new routes’ to Britain, than she is stopping the current flow across the Channel.

She’s busying herself tinkering with some marginal consequences of our open borders, rather than taking steps to close them.

While failing to remove a single one of the countless incentives past governments have put in place, which attract these people to Britain in the first place.

We’ve all seen the tens of thousands of African migrants literally swarming into the Spanish territory of Ceuta over the last few days.

We’re told most have now returned home, (really?) but those who do reach the European mainland won’t just be making their way to Madrid, Rome, or Paris. Many will be headed straight to Calais, no doubt with the full-throated assistance, of the well-enumerated French authorities.

We can only thank our lucky stars that when they inevitably arrive opposite these shores, someone as tough, forthright, and effective as Shabana Mahmood, will be standing strong and resolute, high on the cliffs of Dover to welcome them stop them.

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LSO

R.I.P. Rod Liddle

Launched on HBO in 2002, The Wire is, perhaps, the greatest crime series ever made.

The drama takes its name from the central McGuffin of the first series. The attempts by a maverick Baltimore police unit, made up of drunks, misfits, also rans, and rejects, to stay ahead of ever changing technology, and set up a wiretap on the phones of a tight, disciplined gang of West Baltimore drug dealers.

The problem for the cops is that they can’t just go round bugging the dealers’ phones willy-nilly. Because even drug dealers have rights. And so the cops must negotiate the many checks and balances, safeguards and protections, intentionally built into the system, to guarantee them.

For instance, before persuading an actual human judge to grant a wiretap, the police have to demonstrate that a specific crime is being committed.

This means that the police cannot not simply go on a ‘fishing expedition’. Pop a wiretap on a known criminal’s phone and hope something turns up.

The cops also have to demonstrate, in advance, that they have good reason to believe this specific crime is being committed by a specific person, and also that it is being committed using a specific phone.

The police then have to show that other investigative techniques have failed to secure the evidence they need, or otherwise demonstrate why they wouldn’t work.

And even once the wiretap is finally up, there are strict limits on its use. The police must stop listening if any call is deemed unrelated to criminal activity. While personal conversations, such as between a drug dealer and his mum, (sorry ‘moms’) are not to be recorded.

And finally any warrant obtained is not open ended. Evidence has to be gathered within a set time period. After which the wiretap must be closed down.

Today this aspect of the show feels like ancient history, quaint even.

 Because in the intervening 25 years, (and yes I know America is not Great Britain. Thank you for your insight geography fans), we’ve gone from a society where no one even questioned a drug dealer’s right to privacy, to one where supposedly ‘progressive’ governments are giving themselves powers to listen to our phone conversations, read our messages, and effectively install bugs on our devices, permanently and without oversight, whether we’re even suspected of criminal activity, or not.

It’s a massive shift in the relationship between the individual and the state. And the worst part is that most of us are just shrugging, and going along with it.

Mainly because it is being leveraged by that most convenient, nefarious, and fake of all authoritarian excuses. That we must give up our rights, privacy, and personal sovereignty to ‘protect the children’.

The very same children which our ruling elites show zero interest in protecting, out in the real world.

(And if Deputy Labour leader Lucy Powell is sanctimoniously demanding if I am intending to ‘blow that little trumpet now, [and ] get that dog whistle out.’ Then yes Lucy, I very much am)

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Just this week the EU passed legislation what critics are calling ‘Chat Control 1.0’.

Which grants Ursula Von Der Leyen the right, to outsource to internet service providers, the task of sifting through EU citizens’ private emails, and messages, to check they haven’t sent each other a spicy meme, noticed something inconvenient, or made a jokey observation, of which Deutschland’s desiccated diva of doom disapproves.

This is a power Brussels has been desperate to grant itself for years. But the plan has been repeatedly rejected as too draconian, even by the EU’s puppet parliament, each and every time it has been presented.

But when has democracy, ever been allowed to interdict the never ending Blitzkreig of repressive EU leglistaion?

On this occasion Ursula simply waited until half the MEPs were off on their holibobs and forced it through regardless.

But we’re not in the EU. So these rules won’t apply to us right?

Wrong.

Because back when she was Home Secretary pinch faced puritan Yvette Cooper gave the British state, through Section 121 of the Online Safety Act, the power to do exactly the same thing, to trawl through all our messages, and emails, anytime she likes, in the hope of finding evidence of dissent and wrongthink criminal behaviour and terrorist activity.

Of course OFCOM, the ‘media regulator,’ and stern faced enforcer of state censorship, is at pains to stress that I’m wrong, that I’m just peddling ‘fake news’.

It points out that no, the government does not have the power to bug our phones, but simply compels Big Tech to monitor our communications for ‘harmful’ content instead.

Sure. But that seems, to me at least, to be a deliberate, lawyerly obfuscation, as it effectively amounts to the same thing.

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Of course the government is playing down this assault on British citizens’ right to privacy.

It assures us it will simply ‘scan’ our private communications, and personal photos, in a bid to ‘detect’ child porn and ‘identify’ terrorist activity.

‘Scanning’ sounds technical, dispassionate, and impersonal, as if this process will happen at one removed. The preserve of a fully automated AI system, trawling for ‘keywords’ or ‘digital markers’ on faceless, impartial servers, far away.

And sure, an anonymous algorithm will mark up anything it considers suspect, (thanks to brilliantly rubbish exPrime Minister Keir Starmer, Britain is now an ‘AI Superpower’ after all), but rest assured, once one of your personal photos has been ‘flagged’ as potentially containing, say, child pornography, it will be a flesh and blood police officer, or ‘highly trained’ (minimum wage) operative, who will actually be poring over the photo of your mum in a swimsuit, towelling down a naked toddler on the beach, and deciding if she’s a paedophile or not.

It will be human beings who are reading your personal What’s App messages, searching diligently for unjustified criticism of mass immigration, failure to adequately celebrate the joys of multiculturalism, cruel jokes about brave trans heroes, spicy far-right memes, and of course ‘Islamophobia’.

And ultimately it will be fallible, subjective, ideological human beings who will adjudicate whether what you have communicated, expressed, or simply thought, breaches the threshold of criminality.

Again, this is no conspiracy. We know that an ‘elite’ squad of busy body snoops highly trained officers has already been recruited to do just that.

Because the government has been busily boasting about it.

And we know that they will imprison people for personal, private WhatsApp messages between friends, because they’ve already done it.

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You might be daft enough to assume that if the object of all this monitoring really is to apprehend terrorists, pedos, crooks, and rapists, then it might make sense to retain in prison, all the terrorists, pedos, crooks, and rapists, the police have already caught.

But far from it.

Just as priggish, just sacked, Justice Secretary David Lammy has been finding new and innovative reasons to lock up wrongthinkers, sceptics, biologists, history nerds, dissenters, angry tweeters, and ‘deniers’, without jury trials, Home Secretary Shabana Mahmood is purging the prisons of thousands upon thousands of actual scumbags, sex offenders, and convicted terrorists, leaving them free to once again stalk our grubby, phone thief infested, streets.

Mahmood, who masquerades as a common sense tribune of the people, is just as passionate about using AI to separate us from our rights, as she is at pretending she’s tough on asylum seekers.

Explaining in a recent interview with Digital ID fan, and former war monger, Tony Blair that

“When I was in justice, my ultimate vision [….] was to achieve, by means of AI and technology, what Jeremy Bentham tried to do with his Panopticon. That is that the eyes of the state can be on you at all times.

As all budding Stalinists know, a panopticon is a special type of prison, featuring a central watch tower surrounded by a circular series of open walled cells. So that every inmate spends his entire life, under the constant, unblinking gaze of the authorities.

This glass house gulag our Labour Home Secretary’s, self professed vision for Britain.

Meanwhile, the BBC might be ditching viewers faster than Vickrum Digwas’ mum dumps a kirpan, but rather than address the evident dissatisfaction of its dwindling audience, by returning once again to its founding principles of impartiality, universality, and honesty, the once mighty BBC has come up with an alternative, better plan.

Make us watch it anyway.

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Labour has now decided that voters curating their own YouTube feeds is a counter revolutionary act. And must be stopped.

For the good of the party country.

The government intends to force YouTube and other streaming services to promote, push, and prioritise, compromised, captured legacy mainstream media, and especially the BBC, on our individual home pages, regardless of our settings, interests, or stated preferences.

Forget personal choice, the Department for Culture Media and Sport (Why we are spending £7.6 billion a year on Lisa Nandy’s pointless ministry of free tickets remains beyond me) claims the new rules will make it easier for Britons to “discover trusted news sources” online.

But these news sources are no longer trusted, or indeed trustworthy.

Of course not.

The mainstream media has spent the last few years pumping out unhinged far-left orthodoxy, hysterical climate propaganda, racist anti-British rhetoric, extremist trans ideology, lunatic ‘toxic-male’ misandry, and smug ‘centrist dad’ claptrap, while force feeding us all manner of misinformation, about immigration, (plus some good stuff: credit where it’s due!) crime, the war in the Middle East, Donald Trump, the economy, and the illusory strength of ‘diversity’.

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No wonder much of the BBC’s audience has fled to YouTube, X, and Substack to escape this partisan rubbish.

It’s an indictment of just how out of touch the BBC really is, that the cutpurse broadcaster demands £4bn of free money every year, and yet still can’t compete with The Critical Drinker.

Of course the idea isn’t just to push discredited regime voices to the top of your YouTube homepage. The idea is to marginalise, stigmatise, and ultimately remove ‘right wing,’ alternative, or dissenting voices like GB News from your feed altogether.

This is bad enough. But it’s about to get worse. Much worse.

Once these authoritarian new rules have been implemented. There are plans to roll out case by case censorship.

To ensure you’ll not riot the next time a Welsh choirboy stabs a kid, or an Islamist drives a van into some pedestrians.

Because the inconvenient fact that such atrocities ever occurred in the first place will be redacted, suppressed, hidden, and scrubbed from news sites (already happening), and your social media feeds. For your own good.

Again. You may think this is far fetched. And fair enough. Even as I write this, it sounds unbelievably dystopian to me.

But remember we’re talking about the British government here. A government which conspired to people-smuggle 24,000 Afghans, (24,000!!!) into the country under dead of night, and never told a soul.

And again, don’t take my word for it. The state is blatantly upfront about its intentions.

The Daily Telegraph recently reported that

Liz Kendall, the [since sacked] Technology Secretary, announced on Wednesday that social media firms would face new curbs during “times of crisis”, such as the Belfast attack, preventing them from disseminating content that may encourage disorder.

Exactly what sort of ‘crisis’?

Well it’s instructive that she was talking after an ‘asylum seeker’ tried to literally behead the friendly neighbour who had helped him move into his new, taxpayer funded flat.

The government’s clear intent is to impose a digital ‘D Notice’ on the entire internet, and remove troublesome stories from X, YouTube, and your social media feed, any time some inconvenient atrocity happens which contradicts its approved narrative.

All in the name of ‘social cohesion’.

Because people like Kendall clearly consider us low life gammon scum, flag shagging riff-raff, unwashed, uneducated vermin, always just one YouTube video away from riot, one meme away from attacking a mosque, storming an asylum hostel, or even worse, voting Reform.

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Let’s leave it there.

You might think that the worst thing to ever happen to the modern ruling elites here in Britain was Brexit, and in America, Trump. But that’s not really the case.

The worst thing to happen to the lazy, complacent regime, was the internet.

No new technology has democratised the free flow of information so much since the printing press.

But the elites were slow to realise the implications. They took their eye off the ball. And now they are forced to play catch up. And like with the printing press, are desperate to concoct reasons to roll back this democratisation, to block access to facts, to discredit dissenting opinion, delegitimise counter narratives, and to suppress freedom, while at the same time pouring the full weight of the state’s resources into identifying, taxing, and punishing, those who refuse to comply.

Ultimately this whole process of internet suppression isn’t about protecting kids. Stopping terrorism. Stifling ‘hate speech’. Or promoting ‘trustworthy’ content.

It is a coordinated, international progressive crusade. Its aim is to talk up the invented dangers of ‘too much information’, online choice, and ‘unfettered’ free speech, and leverage the resulting moral panic as an excuse to remove our voice, eliminate our freedoms, reinstate the gatekeepers, and put us, the little people, firmly back in our box.

The assumption in the Wire was that everyone, even Baltimore‘s worst, most violent drug dealers, had a right to freedom of association, and private communication.

The assumption in the EU, and its piddling, fawning familiar, the YooKay, is that we proles cannot be trusted to send and receive private messages, curate our own news sources, or pick our own YouTube videos, lest we taint our weak, gullible minds, with the insidious, dangerous, virus, of free expression, and independent thought.

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LSO

But don’t take my word for it. That’s what Labour MPs themselves think.

Or at least I assume so. Because out of the 411 Labour MPs who won their seats in the 2024 landslide election, there’s not a solitary single one of them, not one, who they themselves consider good enough to run their party, let alone the country.

Which is why, after the inevitable implosion of Keir Starmer’s calamitous premiershit, they’ve had to look outside parliament, and draft in Manchester mayor, Andy Burnham, to run it for them.

This also-ran flop, a dud who the Labour party already twice rejected as leader, in 2010, and 2015, gave his first big speech as Britain’s Prime Minister Presumptive at the People’s History Museum in Manchester.

Which is apt. Because not only are most of his fresh new ideas, museum pieces, dusted down failures from the 1970s, but after fourteen disastrous years under the awful Tories, and twenty four ruinous, nation destroying months with Keir Starmer, Britain and its people, are pretty much history.

So what’s Andy Burnham’s big idea to turn our nation around, to solve the crippling cost of living crisis, end the housing shortage, reestablish our non existent borders, cut crime, and revivify our struggling economy?

Well you know devolution? Probably, after Net Zero, the worst, most divisive, most wasteful, most corrupt, and most poverty entrenching idea any British government has ever come up with ever?

It’s that.

No really.

Our Andy must be the only person in Britain who has looked at the disastrous effects devolution has visited on the good people of Wales and Scotland, gifting Scotland the lowest life expectancy in Western Europe, and Wales the highest welfare dependency in the country, and gone, yup, let’s have ourselves some more of that!

In fact the only person I can identify to have actually benefited from twenty five years of devolution is Mad Murray McDonald, proprietor of Mad Murray’s Mega Motorhome Mart in Govanhill, Glasgow.

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Burnham isn’t messing about, he has plans to move the seat of government out of Westminster to a ‘No 10 North’.

Because as any super successful CEO knows, the first and most vital step in revitalising any failing, fading, clapped out organisation, is reducing the boss’s commute time home.

As if the problems that this country faces can be solved by the guy tasked with sorting them out, moving hundreds of miles away from the centre of economic and political power.

It’s nuts. Like Volodymyr Zelenskyy deciding the best place for him to prosecute the Ukraine war is from a Berni Inn, just outside Kidderminster.

Now half Burnham’s ministers, permanent secretaries, civil servants, and advisors will be based in London but spend half their time commuting to Manchester. While the other half will be based in Manchester but spend half their time commuting to London.

It’s a recipe for inefficiency, duplication, confusion, and waste.

Burnham also plans to create twelve powerful new regional mayoralties. With greater control over transport, housing, and economic development, plus health and social care.

It’s an excellent plan. Because if there’s one thing better than having a single bloated, rubbish government full of second rate, also ran politicians, busily finding new and stupid ways to waste our money, it’s keeping that one bloated, rubbish government, while adding twelve extra little satellite governments full of third rate, also ran politicians, busily finding even more new and stupid ways to waste our money, but you know, locally.

Of course Andy Burnham was himself a regional mayor for nine years.

So you have to ask. Where does Andy get his brilliant ideas from?

It’s like Mr Kipling announcing that his vision for national renewal involves every branch of government eating more Bramley Apple Pies.

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It seems there is an organised push by the progressive elite to entrench far left ideology, climate lunacy, trans and identity politics, high taxation, and political unaccountability into western nations in the name of localism. By taking power from the centre, and transferring it to a cabal of unelected, hand picked, specifically trained, socialist mayors (shout out to Sadiq Khan) in major cities across the globe.

Yes, yes. I know this sounds like a ‘right wing’ conspiracy theory. So apologies if I comes across as a bit nutso. But take a look at some of the excellent work journalist Charlotte Gill has done on the C40 Mayoral training scheme and decide for yourself.

But just maybe Burnham’s plans for a ‘No 10 North’ actually lack ambition.

Perhaps Burnham should consider moving his government even further North. To the North Pole.

Because he seems intent on selling himself as a sort of treats-for-all Santa Claus, a kindly, jolly benefactor, who will fill a sleigh full of goodies, then race round the country

‘Delivering growth in every postcode and hope in every heart’.

A meaningless vacuous statement Fine words indeed.

Although considering what Labour has actually been delivering since 2024 we should maybe expect something a bit less ambitious.

A HMO full of ‘asylum seekers’ in every postcode, and a hopeless twelve hour wait for an ambulance, with every heart attack.

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But hang on. Burnham says he wants ‘growth’. So that’s positive right?

After all about the only growth the country has seen since 2024 was that time Vicki Starmer went on a girls night out, and Keir stayed home to host that visiting Ukrainian boy band.

Well sort of.

Don’t expect a Hayekian revolution of tax cuts, de regulation, and small government.

Sure Burnham claims he wants growth, but then adds a left wing qualifier, by saying what he actually desires is ‘good growth’.

As with ‘equality’, ‘justice’, ‘fairness’, ‘inclusion’, ‘diversity’, and of course ‘woman’, we long ago learned that words tend to mean their opposite when they are uttered by the progressive left.

So when Burnham says ‘good growth’ what he is really talking about is stagnation, paralysis, and torpor.

The growth that inevitably comes with more public spending, higher taxes, civil servant wage hikes, benefits uplifts, greater government subsidies, and a tsunami of borrowing.

A growth in misery, poverty, dependency, division, and debt.

The truth is Andy, we don’t want devolved government. Powerful mayoralties. A ‘rewired’ Britain. Or a ‘No 10 North’. We just want you to get the taxman off our necks. Fix a couple of potholes. And stop importing rapists.

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Of course you need a brilliant team to push through excellent policies, and Andy Burnham has recruited the very best.

A top team of

‘strong northern power-women’,

Not good enough to lead the party obviously. But these ladies do make a mean cup of tea. And are an absolute whizz at the washing up.

A bit patronising?

Soz.

But that’s nothing compared to ‘a senior Labour source’ who announced that

“Andy, surrounded by female advisers and backers”, had a passion for “female-orientated issues, and much less so with the bombs and budgets”.

That’s right girls. Don’t trouble your pretty little heads with tricky subjects like adding stuff up, or working out how best to prosecute deploy Britain’s brave soldiers.

Thems are the man jobs Babes.

The same source even claimed that Burnham is essentially, “Labour’s first female Prime Minister” , which might seem ludicrous, and more than a little insulting to you know, actual women.

But what do you expect from a party, which is so confused and out of touch about gender, that it allowed actual cock and balls geezers to feature on its ‘all women short lists’ until five minutes ago. And only reluctantly removed the lads from in amongst the bonus holers because it was forced to, by the Supreme Court.

Top of Burnham’s powder puff power pile is his right hand woman, Louise Haigh.

Who was forced to resign as Transport Secretary in 2024 when it was revealed she had been convicted of fraud in 2014.

This flame haired progressive is loudly demanding an increase in capital gains tax, and more borrowing.

Or to put it another way:

Convicted fraudster leaps on moral high horse to explain why it’s fair to steal your stuff and give it to someone else.

Remember when you couldn’t open the Guardian, check Facebook, or switch on the BBC without being reminded that Donald Trump is a ‘convicted felon’?

So can we expect, as her profile grows in the coming weeks and months, those same outlets to bombard us with reminders about Louise Haigh’s criminal record?

I can only assume, that as with Trump, they’ll never shut up about it.

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Most voters won’t have heard of Miatta Fahnbullah. And to be honest up until about twenty seconds ago, neither had I.

Described by some as ‘Burnham’s Brain’ this former think tanker and the present MP for Peckham hasn’t encountered a crack pot socialist scheme she didn’t champion, a discredited far left idea she didn’t want to reheat, and an air conditioning unit she didn’t want to ban.

Supposedly her biggest passion is for Universal Basic Income. A bonkers communist idea where the state (you) pays

‘a regular, unconditional cash payment [..] to every individual, regardless of their employment status, wealth, or background’

Sure it sounds a bit ‘out there’. But not really. The UK is already rolling out UBI.

Though it’s not ‘universal’ quite yet, with eligibility strictly policed, and limited exclusively to anyone who turns up in a rubber dingy at Dover, claiming to be a fourteen year old gay Afghan.

And talking of powerful lady women, there’s always Labour’s much celebrated First Female Chancellor, Rachel Reeves

Whoops no. She’s about to get thrown under Andy Burnham’s freshly painted yellow bus.

But don’t worry about our Rach. I’m sure she’ll be fine.

After all, she has a great CV. And if she doesn’t have the right qualifications for her next job. No worries. She’ll just do what she did last time.

And make them up.

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The Labour Party has once again succumbed to group think. First it was the anti-human idiocy of socialism, then the unhinged doom mongering of climate change, the hysteria surrounding BLM, the kid cutting lunacy of trans, and now, it is once again captured, this time by the Cult of Burnham.

But all that aside, after our recent ridiculous, awful, and unbearable slew of Prime Minsters, will Andy Burnham actually be any good?

I don’t want to be a Negative Ninny, but let’s not get our hopes up.

After all, even Andy Burnham doesn’t seem to think he is up to the job.

Like most leading politicians on the left, and it is fair to say, many on the supposed right, he seems desperate to game our democratic system in order to gain political power, just so he can then give it away.

To strip parliament of the few powers that it hasn’t already ceded to NGOs, activist judges, captured institutions, and a partisan, ever more muscular civil service, and hand them to regional fiefdoms, local bosses, provincial mayors, and the inevitable ‘community leaders’, whose interests aren’t just unaligned to the interests of the majority of British people, but are often actively and openly antithetical to them.

But even that isn’t the whole story.

Burnham’s ultimate aim, is to return our nation, lock, stock and barrel back into the bony bosom of Ursula Von Der Leyen’s European Union.

He already has a head start in this cock eyed crusade.

Because luckily for him, if there is one thing his hapless, useless predecessor has been genuinely skilled at, and passionate about, it’s betraying British interests, and handing our wealth, lawmaking powers, territory, and fish to our enemies friends and trading partners

Just this week Starmer offered to slash the rate paid by EU students studying in Britain, by around three quarters, (from £38,000 to £9,000. With your wages making up the difference) in return for nothing more than a date for ‘talks’ about his stupid EU ‘reset’.

I genuinely don’t get it.

What hope is there for this nation when it is led by yet another no mark politician who thinks his country (and presumably himself) is so inferior, pathetic, dreadful, useless, and rotten that it can’t even be trusted to govern itself.

Not that long ago Great Britain presided over the largest, most extensive, globe spanning empire the world has ever seen. Yes, ever.

Now our bosses believe the UK is incapable of running its own domestic affairs without paying the French billions, just to grade our tomatoes.

It’s insane.

Andy Burnham has promised to ‘rewire’ our government and “give Britain the circuit-breaker it needs”

But the last time the British government tried to impose a ‘circuit breaker’ on its people, it helped kill off a quarter of a million Nanas, irrevocably destroyed our kids education, and eviscerated our economy.

We’re about to find out, just how grim it really is, up North.

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LSO

For many of us it’s a scary question. Credit cards. Mortgage. Maybe you borrowed to buy a car. Or to take the kids on holiday.

Or perhaps you are just running a huge overdraft to finance Ed Miliband’s fantasy land of magic windmill make believe pay your energy bills.

I’ll give you a minute to tot it all up in your head.

Done? Great.

OK. You can keep the number to yourself. I’m not that nosey.

But I do have some bad news I’m afraid.

Because whatever figure you’ve come up with, you can immediately add a whopping £46,000 on top.

We all can.

Because that’s how much each and every one of us is on the hook for, now that Britain’s national debt is nudging £3 trillion.

Which definitely sounds like a lot.

But figures like this are so big they tend to mean nothing without context.

So how much is £3 trillion really?

Well let’s try to visualise it.

I did some adding up, and worked out that even if the SNP’s Peter Murrell had stolen ten luxury motorhomes every single day since the day the aliens Egyptians finished building the Great Pyramid of Giza, he would still not have stolen enough luxury motorhomes to pay off what Britain currently owes the bond markets.

And Nicola Sturgeon would still not have noticed them all, piling up to the moon, on her driveway.

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So yes. £3 trillion. It’s a lot of money.

Now you might reasonably assume that the British government has been slap dash, careless, and profligate with the state finances to allow our national debt to rise to such dizzying heights.

But nothing could be further from the truth.

Our skinflint bosses have actually been incredibly prudent, discerning, and judicious. Careful to only use this borrowed money to fund essential programmes, policies and projects that have been deemed vital, crucial, and necessary for the security, prosperity, health, and happiness of our great nation’s people.

So maybe it’s worth taking a quick look at just some of the necessities our government has felt compelled to fund, over the last twenty years or so.

There have been covid panics to finance, hundreds of thousands of asylum seekers to host, millions long NHS waiting lists to maintain, £100bn slow speed railways to not build, British servicemen to prosecute, weekly anti-Jewish Pro-Palestinian marches to lightly steward, EU Referendums to overturn, spicy tweeters to imprison, sausages to release, diversity bollards to erect, gold plated public sector pensions to bankroll, two for one deals to outlaw, pubs to close, suicides to encourage, legal aid to shower on foreign crooks, farmers to immiserate, taxes to put up, businesses to shutter, free speech to stifle, industries to mothball, internets to censor, Net Zeroes to subsidise, islands, fish, and an entire culture to give away to foreigners, national borders to dismantle, grooming gang scandals to cover up, and not one, but two tiers of justice to administer.

There really has been an awful lot, for this awful lot to do.

Still, it’s not all bad news.

There are actually two areas where the British government is currently a genuine, undisputed world leader.

Stealing your earnings.

And giving those earnings away, to people who didn’t earn them.

As Pat Mc Fadden, Labour’s Work(less) and Pensions Minster, explained in an unguarded WhatsApp message

‘Every meeting I have is: “who can we tax in order to pay benefits to others?”’

With an attitude like this, it’s little wonder that for the first time in our history, the country’s welfare bill exceeds its income tax receipts.

Again the figures here are mind boggling. Rachel Reeves is leeching an incredible £331bn from workers in income tax every single year, but then somehow managing to give away even more than that, a jaw dropping £333bn, in benefits.

It no longer even pays to go to work.

The Centre for Social Justice reveals that a family with three children

‘claiming the average rates of Universal Credit, housing and health benefits including Personal Independence Payment, will get £46,000 annually from the state’.

£46,000? Hang on? Where have we seen that figure before?

The same family, if working, would have to earn £71,000 before tax to have an income as high.

The message to typical hard working, ball busting, minimum wage family struggling to take home just £28,000 after tax is clear.

Give up work today, and the Labour government will boost your income by over a third.

Of course the progressives will claim that all this is about equality equity, and fair enough.

Our generous benefits system has managed to lift thousands of children out of poverty.

But only by consigning children whose parents work for a living, into poverty.

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Looking at these figures it’s no longer surprising that so many of us are choosing to live at other people’s expense. What’s surprising is that anyone on a regular wage, is bothering to work at all.

It would be one thing if we had a bloated benefits system which restricted itself to servicing the needs of down on their luck, or even workshy, Brits.

But we don’t. We now have a permanent, endlessly refreshed, all you can eat, benefits buffet, for the entire planet.

Last year we spent £13bn on ‘Foreign Aid’, while a further £11.7 bn of our wages is being shovelled out the door to flood the developing world with ‘Climate Aid’.

Hard earned money we are throwing away in an imbecilic attempt to persuade ambitious nations that it is in their long term interest to forsake economic progress, industrial advancement, and an affordable, reliable energy grid, and join instead, Ed Miliband’s wonky, anti-human crusade for economic stagnation, industrial suicide, and population collapse.

Meanwhile back home hard up British workers are forking out £1bn a month (That’s £12bn a year, maths fans!! ) paying benefits to foreign nationals. People who weren’t born here, and who don’t even hold a British passport.

With almost half (47.6%) of social housing in London currently occupied by people born outside the UK.

People like Fatima Jabbe-Bio. The delightful First Lady of Sierra Leone, who was handed subsidised riverside housing in Southwark twenty years ago. And now uses it as a convenient pied à terre, while away from her pokey presidential palace, back home in Freetown.

Of course for Ms Jabbe-Bio, and thousands of foreign born benefit recipients like her, the real ‘free town’ is London. Where, for people like them at least, housing, education, and healthcare, is completely free.

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The benefits system is no slouch when it comes to creating new and innovative ways to earmark your wages for people who didn’t work for them.

The number of people claiming PIP recently sky rocketed to 3.9 million.

If you were daft enough to think that Personal Independence Payments were only for people with serious mobility issues, wheelchair users, the vision impaired, or others you might reasonably consider would need a little government assistance getting about, then then think again.

Because in 2018 a court ruled that people with ‘overwhelming psychological distress’ could also apply for PIP.

Predictably the floodgates opened. And now the largest category of people claiming PIP are those with ‘mental health issues’ including depression, anxiety, ADHD, or otherwise suffering from debilitating conditions which doctors used to diagnose as ‘life’ .

Look, I know I’m being facetious.

I wholeheartedly accept there are some mental health conditions which warrant intervention, long term treatment, and financial support.

But being sad isn’t one of them.

And the idea that there are genuinely 1.4 million British people too mental to look after themselves without stealing my wages is, well, mental.

I’m no statistician. But it is clear, no matter how much Radio 4 you listen to, that these conditions are being massively over diagnosed.

So with this explosion of potentially dodgy claims, you might expect the government to ramp up assessments.

To see it as its duty to protect public money (your money) from swindlers, knaves, and brigands, by checking that recipients are genuinely suffering from the disorders they claim.

Right?

Wrong.

Under the current system, PIP claimants should receive a face to face assessment every nine months.

But there are now so many applicants that according to the government itself

“the central concern is that the assessment system will ‘fall over’ if capacity pressures are not addressed.’

And so to relieve those ‘capacity pressures’ the period between assessments has been extended. From once every nine months.

To once every six years.

Six years!!!

So the government response to a system which is clearly being gamed to the point it will ‘fall over’ is to effectively stop policing, evaluating, or even monitoring that system.

While demanding that even more of our wages are confiscated to fund the obvious fraud.

This is a level of incompetence which borders on the criminal.

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The problem with PIP is the problem with all benefits.

It’s a ratchet.

If the government starts funding something with other people’s money, making that something available through the benefits system, then the system will be incentivised to grow both the number of people eligible for that benefit, and the bureaucracy necessary to administer and distribute it.

It doesn’t matter if it’s top of the range Motability cars, taxis to school for SEND kids, free money for sad people, or simply the NHS, the result will always be the same.

More claimants, more benefits, more bureaucracy, more money, more taxes, more poverty.

It’s easy to see how this works.

I don’t want to give them ideas, but let’s do a little thought experiment.

Just imagine for a moment that Labour introduced a ‘Kid’s Shoe Fund’.

Not for all kids of course. This new benefit would be highly focussed, only targeting those children deemed to be living in ‘shoe poverty’.

The fund would be launched amid glowing media coverage, awash with heart warming stories of ‘Shoe Heroes’.

After about three minutes you’d start hearing the usual shrill voices clogging up the BBC, ITV and BlueSky, demanding that the scheme be universalised.

Do gooders, social workers, Guardian readers, grifters, rent seekers, sanctimonious ‘celebs’, and angry, blue haired moaners, would soon be getting out the placards claiming that by refusing to extend ‘free school shoes’ to every child, this government ‘wants children to go to school barefoot’.

You know, like Hitler did.

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Next the campaign would pick up a bit of momentum, with some narcissistic ‘awareness raising.’ We’d have to suffer through Athlete’s Foot Month, Verucca Awareness Week, Fallen Arch Thursday.

Grifting Comedy legend Lenny Henry would take time out from his busy schedule demanding we all pay reparations for something we didn’t do two hundred and fifty years ago, to ‘hilariously’ walk barefoot through a giant bowl of custard on The One Show.

A high profile multimillionaire sportsman like Marcus Rashford, or perhaps one of those severe looking women who we are forced to pretend are also really brilliant at football, would start embarrassing the government by demanding it spends poor people’s wages on an entire new, multi million pound agency dedicated to giving away ‘free’ shoes.

The fact that it is calculated by the IEA (Tufton Street mafia-who funds you??!!) that each ‘free’ shoe would, through the NHS style acquisition process, cost the taxpayer £700 each is dismissed as ‘far-right nit picking’ by Chris Packham who appears on TV to claim ‘you can’t put a price on children’s shoes’, while standing outside a shoe shop which sells them for £16.99.

Zack Polanski pops up to say that if only greedy billionaires were made to pay their ‘fair share’ everyone in Britain could have shoes. Ignoring the fact that everyone already does.

And the Guardian would publish an article blaming the lack of children’s shoes on literally everyone from Israel and Hebrew speakers, to Zionists and the Jews.

Cowering under this co-ordinated onslaught of bad publicity, the terrified government, would look at the figures, think ‘It’s only a few hundred million’, and cave into the demands.

And a year later Gary Lineker would turn up on X demanding to know why so many children are going to school in winter without adequate gloves.

It’s no wonder we are broke.

What was originally envisioned as a way to help the needy, destitute, and vulnerable rebuild their lives, has metastasised into a dependency trap, a self sustaining machine, a world spanning, Benefits Industrial Complex.

Now Keir Starmer has resigned, and Labour’s Andy Burnham is on his way to Number 10.

He has pledged to renew both his party, and the country. Fine sentiments.

But Burnham can bring as much ‘hope’ as he likes. Promise as much ‘change’ as he wants.

The truth is that until the government, Labour, Tory, Reform, or whatever confederacy of nutters, dunces, and gulls, we end up with after a hung parliament, stops taking all the money earned by the productive part of the economy, and showering it on the ever growing, unproductive parts, we are dooming this once great nation, and all its people, working and workless alike, to a dark future of penury, misery, division, and irrelevance.

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LSO

It was 1976, and I was ten.

The Motor-Cycle Crash Helmets (Religious Exemption) Act 1976 stated that from then on, Sikhs with their turbans, were exempt from the law that says everyone in Britain must wear a crash helmet when riding a motorbike.

I don’t know how I even knew about it, not the name of the act and everything, I had to look that up just now, but the basic idea of it. I mean, I was ten, and I promise I really wasn’t that precocious.

Maybe my newly acquired Evel Knievel stunt cycle (The only toy I ever had which performed as well in real life, as it did in the adverts) made me cognisant of everything motorbike. Maybe there was a lot of chatter about it on the telly, I simply don’t know.

I certainly had no issue with Sikhs, or men wearing turbans in general. After being mesmerised by the heart pounding, realistic action of The Golden Voyage of Sinbad (1973. 6.8 IMDb Recommended) the whole idea seemed exotic, dashing, and adventurous to little me.

But even then it struck me as wrong that the law should apply to people differently, depending on their race, religion, or choices.

I couldn’t get my head round it then. Any more than I can get my head around it now.

It has taken a murder to prove, to some people at least, that the thing that we have spent the last two years complaining was happening, and which our traitorous government has been vehemently denying is happening, is happening.

Two tier policing.

Yet even now, after the full details of how a DEI mandated police response compounded the grim squalor of Henry Nowak’s needless death, those at the top of government still refuse to acknowledge it as a factor.

Last Wednesday at PMQs Keir Starmer himself said

‘I don’t believe there’s two-tier policing in this country’.

And Justice Secretary (yes, really) David Lammy repeated this same denial on Sunday.

This is plainly, obviously, and demonstrably not true.

Starmer is denying the truth, in the face of the obvious.

He’s like Nicola Sturgeon, the Mr Magoo of Scottish politics, unconvincingly claiming she never once noticed the twenty five foot Winnebago parked on her driveway.

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We’re not even asking Starmer to ‘believe’ anything.

Because the existence or otherwise of two tier policing is not a matter of opinion.

It is right there, in black and white.

Codified, institutionalised, and normalised, in the police’s own guidance.

By now we’ve all learned how The National Police Chiefs Council (NPCC) ‘anti-racism commitment’ clearly and explicitly states that as far as it is concerned, ‘racial equity’ (‘equity’ is simply the left’s demand that there should be special rules for special people-and Spoiler Alert: You’re not one of them) does not mean

‘Treating everyone the same or being colour blind.’

In other words, the NPCC is expressly demanding that police officers treat British citizens differently, depending on their skin colour.

And for most reasonable people, that is the very definition of racism.

Hampshire police’s own Race Action Plan states that part of the force’s key purpose is

‘Making sure that staff and officers are trained to recognise and deal with crimes that impact the most on our Black and ethnic minority communities.’

I’d suggest that even capitalising ‘black’ is an implicit admission that the force has surrendered any claim to impartiality, and capitulated to the divisive, anti-white doctrine of Critical Race Theory.

Meanwhile Alexis Boon, the chief constable of Hampshire & Isle of Wight Constabulary, the force which we now learn tried to smear Henry Nowak as the aggressor, even after his death, claims

‘a “furore” had been “whipped up” about the murder of the teenager and he would not be resigning.’

Some of us felt that a ‘furore’ had been ‘whipped up’ in 2020 over the death of George Floyd, 4000 miles away, in Minneapolis, USA.

And that the sight of white, middle class Guardian readers taking to British streets to chant ‘Hands up don’t shoot’ at unarmed British police officers, who were literally cowering on their knees before them, was self indulgent, performative, narcissistic, and utterly ridiculous.

But to suggest as much at the time would have resulted in many of us losing our jobs, getting kicked off social media, being ostracised by our friends, and accused by the complicit, captured legacy media, of some unforgivable racist ‘hate crime’.

Now we learn that some police forces are ‘under pressure’ to drop ‘positive discrimination’ policies altogether.

But this is itself a failure of understanding, a misnomer, and a category error. There is no such thing as ‘positive discrimination’.

There is only discrimination.

You cannot cure racism with more racism.

Any more than you can cure a failed Labour administration with more Gordon Brown.

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Home Secretary Shabana Mahmood is attempting to row back on a policy that has been foundational to Labour thinking (yes, I am aware this is an oxymoron) for years.

The Telegraph reports that

Ms Mahmood said there must be no instances of two-tier policing, reminding officers they had a “sacred duty” to police“without fear or favour”.

And stating that

“Everyone should be equal in the eyes of the law.”

Yes Shabana. We’ve been saying that for years. But all we got for our troubles, was to be dismissed as ‘far right thugs’, and threatened with jail by your (soon to be ex) boss.

When confronted with the evidence that asymmetrical, two tier policing is enshrined in police guidance at the very highest level, Mahmood equivocates, describing the wording of the guidance as “clumsy”.

This word ‘clumsy’ is worth listening out for. It is a tool, regularly used by the ruling elite to reframe and downgrade what was clearly calculated, considered, and intentional, to little more than mishap, accident, and blunder.

It’s the very same word used by Dame Karen Bradley, chair of the Home Affairs Committee, to partially excuse the government’s two tier policing of the Maccabi Tel Aviv football match, which effectively empowered Muslim ‘community leaders’ to employ our national police force as a private militia in order to enforce a ‘no Jews’ exclusion zone in Birmingham.

‘Clumsy’ is a policeman tripping over his own riot shield. Banning Jews from going about their lawful business in a British city is not a knock kneed prat fall. It is anti-Semitism.

Similarly, institutionalising anti-majority prejudice in our police force is not slipping on a banana peel. It is racism.

Credit where it is due, at PMQs on Wednesday, Prime Minister Keir Starmer, spoke eloquently about the murder of Henry Nowak.

At least at first.

But then he, like the increasingly nauseating Sadiq Khan the day before, felt the need to invoke the fact that he is a father to a teenager, in order to signal just how much this crime had affected him personally.

Look. I concede I’m maybe being overly sensitive on this particular point. But it sticks in my craw the way our self-serving politicians always try, on some level, to make this stuff all about them.

Starmer saved his real fury, ire, and wrath, not for murderer Vickrum Digwa, not for Digwa’s family, who clearly lied to the police, and tried to hide the murder weapon, (the family is now facing weapons charges,) not for the broken justice system, which had so catastrophically failed Henry Nowak.

No, he reserved the worst of his outrage for Reform leader Nigel Farage.

Attempting, with the full throated, febrile support of a baying uni-party parliament, to change the narrative.

Climbing onto the arse-shone saddle of his moral high horse, Starmer declared himself to be ‘shocked’, at the way Nigel Farage was ‘politicising’ Henry Nowak’s murder.

Professing to be appalled at how Farage was exploiting the tragic death of this innocent young man, to vilify his enemies, demonise his political opponents, stir up his base, and ‘create division’.

Which of course was very different to how Keir Starmer himself was, at that very moment, exploiting the tragic death of this innocent young man, to vilify his enemies, demonise his political opponents, stir up his base, and ‘create division’.

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Starmer claimed that Farage had incited the previous night’s disturbances in Southampton when he called on the public to respond to both the murder, and the police reaction to it, with ‘cold pure rage’.

And fair enough.

Because the very last thing little people like us should do in situations like this, and there seems to be an increasing number of situations like this, is get angry.

We should instead follow our leaders’ instruction not to ‘Look Back in Anger’ when an Islamist bombs a concert full of children.

We must temper our base emotions when a nutter with a knife, well known to Prevent, his local police force, and social services, murders three young children at a Taylor Swift dance class.

We should limit ourselves to holding yet another silent vigil every time a member of some ‘marginalised community’ elects to drive a van full of knifemen into a bridge full of commuters.

We must celebrate ‘cultural differences’ when emasculated, impotent, police chiefs look on silently as mothers beg unhinged zealots not to visit holy violence on their teenage sons for the unforgivable transgression of scuffing a book.

And when a young woman, working at an ‘asylum hotel’ (how did we even get to the point where such a thing exists?) is stabbed to death by a foreign man living there at our enforced expense, we are supposed to sigh, shrug and move on. After all it’s just one of those things. Unfortunate sure, but sadly there’s nothing to be done.

In contrast, of course, it is completely understandable when hordes of furious Muslim men besiege a police station after two blameless lads from their peace loving ‘community’ are arrested for breaking a female police officer’s face at Manchester airport. Because a violent man, resisting arrest, and punching a female cop in the face is ‘not a clear cut issue’ according to our future PM, Andy Burnham.

It is considered completely legitimate, and even laudable for black Britons to become enraged to the point of riot, when a career criminal, and drug addict dies at the hands of police, in a foreign country.

And entirely justifiable when belligerent Muslim mobs arm themselves with machetes to stalk the streets of our second city in violent pursuit of the largely imaginary ‘organised far right’ which they have been ‘whipped up’ to expect to arrive at any moment by our Prime Minister, the BBC, and self satisfied malice-mongers ‘Hope Not Hate’.

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The British government, Tory and Labour, has over many years, knowingly, carefully, and intentionally, instituted a series of incentives, and punishments, asymmetrical rules, partisan codes of practice, and anti-majority doctrines which have made two tier, racist policing inevitable.

Which is why we have now reached the demented position where ‘racism’ is at once the worst and most heinous crime a British citizen can be accused of, while simultaneously being so ingrained in our public institutions, that it is now considered perfectly acceptable, justified, and even officially mandated, as long as it is directed against those the progressive elites don’t like.

Us.

Our contemptuous ruling class, seem intent to dismiss the public’s furious response to the Nowak murder as little more than a confected ‘furore’, ‘whipped up’ by demagogues, populists, and agitators, to trick us, the brainless, gullible masses, into bigotry, violence, and fascism.

And appear increasingly exasperated, annoyed, and infuriated that we are finally refusing to remain quietly complicit in our own annihilation.

Let’s conclude by stating the obvious.

Regardless of race, colour, or creed, justice should be blind. There should be just one law (No Sharia. Not you), and it should apply to everyone equally.

Because when it doesn’t, you no longer have a set of laws.

Instead you have a programme of entitlement, patronage, and discrimination.

Which serves to remove power from an independent, broadly impartial (yes, thank you, I know) justice system, and hand it to a rabidly partisan, fanatically progressive, narrowly ideological, elite. Which gets to choose on a whim, exactly who in our society is favoured, indulged, and advantaged, with special rules, exemptions, and privileges.

And who gets to be handcuffed, and left to bleed out, on a cold wet driveway, in Southampton.

RIP. Henry Nowak

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Thank you for reading Low Status Opinions. If you found any value in this article I’d ask you to repost, share, and ‘like’ it. This really helps me find new readers, and grow this Substack.

And welcome to all the new subscribers who have signed up after reading my last piece about Rachel Reeves encounter with a white van man. It’s funny, you can never tell what will strike a chord with your readers, but that one absolutely hit a nerve, and generated a lot of new subs, so welcome one and all.

If you are new here I’d ask you to subscribe too. Like the government I operate a two tier system, although hopefully mine is more benign. Subscription is free, unless you don’t want it to be, paid subscriptions are only about £4 a month, and really help me keep this site going.

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Thanks again for coming.

And all the best to you and yours.

LSO

To be honest it’s hardly surprising that the party has a difficult relationship with ‘white van man’. After all, he represents everything the modern Labour Party abhors.

He is always working. As opposed to wallowing in victimhood, while subsisting on hand outs and benefits. He is self reliant. And keen to acknowledge, often through the medium of a blasting Colonel Bogey car horn, the biological sex differences between men and women. He is patriotic, male, and generally, though by no means exclusively, white.

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Last week the self styled ‘party of working people’ once again revealed how out of touch it is with actual working people, when our maths mangling Chancellor, price fixing fantasist Rachel Reeves, fell victim to a drive-by heckle as she stood talking utter nonsense on a petrol station forecourt.

While she bigged herself up in front of the camera for effectively ‘cutting’ fuel duty by 5p (Yes. Be assured, we’ll get to that) a couple of likely lads in a white van drove by, pledging allegiance to Nigel Farage, demanding the end of the Starmer government, and generally berating Reeves for being rubbish.

The driver then pointed out that his van was festooned with England flags, and invited Rachel Reeves to have him arrested for it.

Which I thought was genuinely pretty funny.

The joke landed because there is so much truth in it. Palestinian flags, trans flags, BLM flags, Ukrainian flags, each are hung from lamposts, swung from NHS lanyards, posted on government websites, or unfurled from council office flagpoles, with the express consent, and high minded acclamation, of our governing classes.

It is only when a few thousand Brits drape themselves in the actual national flag, and take to the streets to express their patriotism, love of native British culture (Newsflash Guardian readers -Yes we have one), and antipathy to what has essentially become the Asylum Seeker Industrial Complex, (four hundred desperate refugees from war torn France arrived on these shores just last Friday alone, and you will be paying to clothe, feed, and accommodate every single one of them, probably forever), that our blank eyed Prime Minister springs into action to express his principled distaste and huffy disapproval.

Even before the second Unite The Kingdom event had taken place, lame duck dunce Keir Starmer launched himself onto X to condemn the marchers, as ‘far-right extremists’, hellbent of ‘peddling hatred and division’.

Though fair enough I guess.

We are all aware how Britain’s Jewish community lives in fear of Union Jack wrapped nanas stabbing them in the streets, threatening to rape their daughters, and firebombing their ambulances.

How peace loving citizens exist in a constant state of high anxiety. Vigilant to the ever present danger that a British builder, scaffolder, or plumber is going to drive his van full of tools into a crowd of commuters crossing London Bridge (twice), or families of shoppers at a busy Christmas Winter Fest market.

Or how law abiding British students are terrified of being handcuffed, then arrested as racists, after being stabbed by British plasterers, who are unaccountably free to wander English streets with eight inch ‘ceremonial’ daggers in their belts, in the name of ‘diversity’.

At first Reeves attempted to deflect the heckle by robotically repeating the unconvincing mantra ‘I love this country,’ even while giving every impression that whatever the name of ‘this country’ actually was, it had momentarily escaped her.

But not to worry, she soon recovered. And once the van was safely out of earshot, declared that such mild insults as had been gently lobbed her way, were ‘not very British.’

Of course Reeves is using ‘British’ in the same way that our ruling classes use the word ‘democracy’. You might think when they say it, that they are referring to the same thing as you, but they are absolutely not.

For them ‘Our Democracy’, denotes a political system where everyone (including children, and foreign nationals from countries such as Romania, Bulgaria, and Lithuania) votes at election time, for different parties standing on platforms of near identical policy proposals, all designed to ensure the continuity of the sclerotic technocratic state, and the continued primacy of the pampered elite class, which suckles greedily upon it.

Where each successive doppelgänger government exists within an ever narrowing Overton Window, which ratchets inexorably leftward, from freedom loving market economy, to jack booted socialist tyranny.

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Now the progressive class which ruins runs everything is trying to hijack the very concept of ‘Britishness’ in the same way.

It never tires of presenting ‘Britain,’ the proud nation of Nelson, Wellington, Mrs Thatcher, William Shakespeare, and Charles Hawtrey as their fantasy land made real, a place where jolly multiculturalism bestows the cost free benefits of spicy food, Zumba dance classes, and unchecked sexual misconduct on a grateful rainbow nation.

A happy land where lovable raggamuffin shoplifters, rendered cashless by cruel ‘Tory cuts’ are compelled to satiate their desperate need for six bottles of Hennessy under the benign gaze of ever indulgent, hands-off, security staff.

While hairy arsed men in bad wigs and worse make-up merrily exercise their human right to wander stark bollock naked through the changing rooms of Brandy Melville.

Many commentators, even a few of this government’s critics, have taken Reeve’s side. Agreeing with her wonky assessment that it is somehow ‘unBritish’ for men to shout at women from vans.

Implying that such boorish behaviour is a new development, the inevitable result of Andrew Tate sucking ever more impressionable young men over the event horizon of confected ‘toxic masculinity’, into the black hole, of the largely imaginary ‘manosphere’.

Well that is plainly not true. British men have been shouting at women from vans for as long as I can remember.

A bit rude yes. But in terms of actual misogyny I wouldn’t exactly put it up there with, say, I dunno, prevailing on multiple government agencies and institutions, including the police, and social services, to formulate a decades long, co-ordinated cover up of the industrial scale abuse of countless white, teenage girls.

But maybe that’s just me.

And just how nasty, objectionable, and unacceptable were this particular van driver’s insults, that they might offend the patriotic sensibilities of our high-minded Chancellor?

Well, he didn’t attempt to restrain Reeves physically, prevent her from going about her lawful business, impinge on her freedom of speech, or attempt to have her locked up for disagreeing with him.

All things that this government regularly does to people of his class who dare to dissent against her rancid regime’s maladroit rule.

Instead he distilled his criticism into a couple of witty, if forthright, soundbites, chucked in a couple of swears, and drove off.

Presumably he didn’t have time to hang around for a more cultured, scholarly debate.

Because he had to put in a day’s work to earn the wages Rachel Reeves would then confiscate through Britain’s ever more punitive tax system, so she could shower it all on sad benefit claimants, polygamous welfare recipients, slow speed rail lines to nowhere, and state funded trans charities.

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I’d also suggest that these days, shouting from a van is about the only way a member of the tax paying classes can get a ‘top politician’ like Rachel Reeves to listen to them.

Our Westminster elites certainly won’t take any notice when we’re fool enough to pick the wrong side in a referendum.

They will studiously ignore us when we consistently and continuously vote for what we actually want (lower immigration, a functioning health service, less David Lammy) in general elections.

And they most assuredly won’t listen to us when we spill onto the capital’s streets to loudly protest that they won’t listen to us.

So if shouting from a van window is the only way to make our cloth eared bosses actually pay us any attention. Then so be it.

Lost in this whole confected controversy was why Rachel Reeves was standing outside a petrol station in the first place.

She was actually there to congratulate herself for ‘cutting’ fuel duty by 5p. (Actually she was announcing a delay on imposing an increase.)

Which she presented as an example of her beneficent government’s generosity and largesse during a punishing cost of living crisis which she herself largely precipitated has been caused almost solely by Donald Trump.

This means that thanks to Rachel’s munificence, the ‘fuel duty’ (tax) charged on a £1.50 litre of petrol is now only making up a measly 35%, (55p) of the total cost.

Which I hope you’d agree seems very reasonable.

But let’s not forget that drivers are also charged 20% VAT (25p) on the overall cost of each litre.

Which means the government is not simply taxing you an inordinate amount for the privilege of taking your kids to school, popping down the shops, or going to work, it is actually charging you an additional tax, on top of that tax.

It is literally like the government forcing you to pay 20% VAT on your income tax.

As Keir Starmer himself says, ‘Labour will always protect working people.’

And what he is protecting us from, is having too much annoying money in our pockets, to fritter away on pointless luxuries like food, rent, and electricity.

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But maybe I am being unfair.

Alert to Britain’s crushingly expensive energy prices, Starmer has decided to relax sanctions on Russian fuel.

Which is great news. I guess.

This means we will now be paying Russia for oil which we could potentially drill for ourselves. While still spending £13bn of Britain’s tax take, subsidising the Ukrainian war effort.

So thanks to the wise leadership of Keir Starmer, Rachel Reeves, and Eco Dunce Ed Miliband, British consumers are now paying soldiers on both sided of the Ukrainian/Russian war to kill each other.

It’s nuts.

It makes about as much sense as making Greg Wallace Minister for Women and Equalities, Gemma Collins a spokesperson for education, or Andy Burnham Prime Minister.

Meanwhile Reeves is busily promoting another clever wheeze to help out hard pressed British consumers; her ‘Great British Summer Savings’ initiative.

So how is this latest scheme going to ease the financial burden on struggling Brits?

Is she planning to reverse her own punitive, job destroying increases to National Insurance? Help renters, and independent landlords, by dropping her government’s catastrophic, counterproductive ‘Renter’s Rights Bill’? Or giving the housing market a boost by abolishing stamp duty?

The answer, of course, is D.) None of these.

As reported in the Telegraph, Reeves has instead announced

a temporary cut in VAT from 20 to 5 per cent for attractions like theme parks and zoos, to run throughout the summer.

Don’t mock. This is not an insignificant amount.

After all, a family of four on Universal Credit visiting the Tower of London will see the cost of their ticket slashed from an extortionate £4. To a much more manageable £3.58

Not for you though. Assuming you are one of the dwindling band of idiots who actually work for a living, you’ll still have to fork out around £100.

Just to see King Charles’ hat.

But let’s take the win. Because while she’s made British tourist attractions marginally cheaper, our bighearted chancellor has ensured that travelling abroad will, from now on, become significantly more expensive.

Because Reeves has also just announced she’s adding 20 % VAT to the fees airlines have to pay the government to use British airports.

Of course airlines won’t be paying that 20%. They will simply pass it on to you, the consumer, adding it to the cost of your plane tickets.

Sorry kids, you can forget Disneyland this year, instead we’re spending two weeks, visiting the world famous, and equally exciting, Derwent Pencil Museum.

Hurrah!

With her ‘cuts’ to fuel duty, her temporary slashing of VAT on zoo visits, and money off tickets to overpriced British tourist attractions, Reeves is at pains to present herself as a great benefactor, a generous patron, and a cash dispensing consumer champion. All because, for this summer at least, she’s not stealing quite as much of your wages as she normally does.

Of course it’s a total fiction. The reality is that Reeves is like a mugger who steals your phone, credit cards, and wallet, and then expects you to be grateful, when they graciously leave you with just enough change, for the bus fare home.

As one erudite political sage recently put it,

‘Get Starmer out!’

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LSO

I know, I know. They’re really just the ‘local elections’ here but you can’t blame me for trying to inject a tiny bit of transatlantic glamour into what is usually the most boring spin of Britain’s electoral cycle.

Local elections often seem like one of those peculiarly British inconveniences we all might grumble about under their breath, but generally accommodate without too much serious complaint.

You know, like the way the sick are forced to wait months to receive basic, grudging, inadequate hospital treatment from ‘Our NHS’, the very best of all possible health services, in the entire world.

Or how busy mums are compelled to battle crack addled shoplifters, gangs of leering foreign men, and mountains of bubonic bin bags, each time they pop down the High Street to grab some out-of-date American Candy, from one of their tiny market town’s plethora of brand new, but seemingly never open, Turkish barbers.

Or how we are made to watch as our local parks, grass verges, and roundabouts, turn overnight, into reeking tent cities, rancid homeless encampments, and rotting cardboard shanty towns.

So for a change, when my turn came to finally ‘have my say’, I actually thought it would be fun to make a day of it, and even took my kids along, to experience firsthand, what participating in the farce of a fake, Potemkin, democracy, actually feels like.

So well done me.

Surprisingly my efforts to crowbar us all into one voting booth did not meet with the approval of the polling station’s killjoy officials.

I told them that now ‘family voting’ was all the rage in forward thinking, progressive constituencies like the recently famous Gorton and Denton, we simply wanted to try it out for ourselves.

But they were having none of it.

Patiently explaining that this was very much a ‘special rules for special people’, sort of deal, and that as a pale, male, and stale (late) middle aged, white oppressor, who’s only job is to pay for everything, I was simply not ‘special’ enough.

Yes, when the residents of one half of Gorton and Denton do it, it is ‘family voting’. But if we try it, it’s plain old, ‘election fraud’.

And fair enough.

That does actually make sense.

Because of Islamophobia. Or something.

Anyhoo, the results are in, and as predicted, the locals have proved a disaster for Sir Keir Starmer, and his nation hating, wealth repelling, competence dodging, Labour Party.

Labour lost 1500 council seats. In line with the very worst predictions.

It was a catastrophe.

And now everyone in his own party has turned into a Ukrainian rent boy. They all want to see the back of Keir Starmer.

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And yet, like a resolute six year old princess, clinging determinedly to a copy of Sparkle World in a busy Waitrose, (if you know, you know), our piss-poor PM still, at the time of writing, refuses to relinquish his grip on power, reassuring the British public that

‘I was elected to change this country - tough days like this don’t weaken my determination to do that. They strengthen it’.

But you have changed this country Sir Keir.

You’ve made its people poorer. More divided. Less secure. And more dependent on their enemies. You’ve trashed our nation’s legacy, besmirched our history, and insulted our dignity. You’ve given away our islands, our rights, and our fish. You’ve filled up our prisons with foreigners, our hotels with grifters, and our streets with sex offenders, knife wielders, and Jew haters.

So when it comes to ‘change’, I’d say, it’s pretty much Mission Accomplished.

The Conservatives, who themselves contributed so very much to bringing about the ‘change’ described above, also lost a bunch of council seats. And continue on their ignominious odyssey, from most successful election winning machine in history, to psephological irrelevance.

Regular readers will know I’m pretty dismissive of the useless, late stage, Tories. And have generally been disappointed in Kemi Badenoch.

But I have to say, the Tory leader’s off the cuff defence of the Jewish community in the face of a far left ‘Pro-Palestine’ activist last week, is the single most impressive intervention from any leading British politician that I have seen on the issue.

So I’m minded to give her, if not her Gauke riddled corpse of a party, a decent hearing from now on.

I think that’s only fair.

Meanwhile Restore defied the naysayers, sweeping the board in Rupert Lowe’s home constituency of Great Yarmouth. Completely annihilating the competition. It was an absolute triumph.

And Ed Davey also did, or said something. Apparently.

Of course the big story of the night was meant to be the ascendency of the Zack Polanski’s Greens.

‘Green Party’ are two words which used to conjure up images of musty tree huggers, enviro loving sandal wearers, verruca encrusted hygiene dodgers, harmless basket weavers, and loamy compost fanciers.

But not anymore. Because since becoming leader, wonky faced wannabe, one time X Factor backing dancer, tit-tickler, heroin legaliser, pretend DOJ advisor, fake Red Cross spokesman, and Semitic shunning svengali, Zack Polanski has given the party quite the makeover.

He’s put the ‘mentalist’ into ‘environmentalist’.

And the ‘Green’ into, ‘There’s been another stabbing in Golders Green’.

Of course the Greens are at pains to claim they still care just as much about the environment as they ever did.

It’s just that they now think it would be a more fragrant, pleasant, and sustainable environment, if only it didn’t have quite so many Jews genociding up the place.

And by ‘quite so many’ they mean ‘any’.

Polanski’s Greens have spent months being bigged up by a huge variety of commentators, experts, and insiders, representing many different perspectives.

These have included soft-left BBC journalists, high profile communists, socialist media personalities, and even left wing podcasters. All have tipped Polanski’s party for greatness.

But on the night, the Greens were the dog that didn’t bark.

Sure, they won some councils in a few student towns, and even secured the mayoralty of Hackney, in East London.

(For 10 points guess the hair colour of Hackney’s new mayor:

a.) Pink

b.) Brown

c.) A uniquely unattractive mixture of pink and brown

Answer: Here. )

But overall Zack Polanski’s barmy army only secured around 18% of the vote.

18%.

That’s still an awful lot of gulls, idiots, lunatics, and fools highly intelligent, socially aware, balanced young women.

But the country wasn’t subsumed under the tsunami of idiocy that some had predicted.

This failure can probably be blamed on Polanski himself, after the gap toothed gaffemeister made the most self-destructive intervention in any election campaign since that time in 2017, when Theresa May ran breathless through a wheat field, to excitedly tell unimpressed voters all about her brilliant new plan to put a tax on dementia.

Most British politicians seeking high office, even David Lammy, would have more sense than watch a brave policemen risk his life, wrestling a knife wielding terrorist to the ground, on a busy London street, and immediately take the side of the terrorist.

But not our Zack. Confronted with harrowing footage showing two Jewish men being stabbed in North London, he immediately leapt to the defence of the knife waving madman, condemning the police for being unnecessarily heavy handed, and insufficiently conciliatory, in their efforts to prevent the public being murdered.

On the surface, yes, it seems like a stupid thing to do. But maybe Polanski’s decision to throw his lot in with violent extremists, Islamists, and terrorists, while robustly denouncing Britain’s brave men in uniform, isn’t quite as bonkers as it first seems.

After all, the government’s top lawyer, and Keir Starmer’s best pal, Lord Hermer, got himself the plum gig of Attorney General, by pretty much following this very strategy.

Happily Polanski’s intervention did not go down well with the voters. And overnight his approval rating dropped a massive 14 points.

1 point for each of his IQs.

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In the end it was Nigel Farage’s night. And though I’m not a Reform supporter per se, I was delighted to see his party do so well in a national poll.

Well done Nigel, you played a blinder.

Regime commentators, the Labour government, and the BBC might consider Reform the Britain First, second coming of the Third Reich, for proposing milquetoast immigration policies which John Major’s government would have dismissed as a bit wishy washy, but the party seems pretty popular with actual, regular voters.

Reform won around 26% of the vote. Which in the world of two party politics would never be enough to win an overall majority. But in a five way race, quite possibly is. (Maybe, almost.)

In some ways the two insurgent parties were mirrors of each other.

Polanski went to the extremes, pandered to the most rabid sections of his base, alienated the Green Party’s more traditional, centrist, genuinely ’be kind’, ‘National Trust/Mumsnet’ type supporters, and paid a heavy price at the ballot box.

Farage has gone the other way, and risks disappointing his more strident followers.

He’s tacked to the centre, shrugged off the ethno nationalists, rejected purity spirals, and maximalism.

Instead he’s sought to appeal to a broad coalition of decent, hard working voters who have clearly had enough of mass unskilled immigration, deportation-dodging foreign criminals, town centres full of ‘asylum seekers’, and the very real migrant crime wave.

But it’s 2026, not 1996, so they are also likely to have a broad mixture of immigrant friends, foreign born work colleagues, and interact daily with perfectly nice Muslim acquaintances, shopkeepers, and neighbours.

These voters are fed up with being unfairly smeared as ‘racists’ by an out of touch elite class which is happy to spend their wages, even as it looks down its nose on their lifestyles and opinions. Yes, they see mass migration, both legal, and illegal, as a major, even the major issue facing this country, but do not consider themselves remotely bigoted, xenophobic, or intolerant.

(Yes. I am absolutely describing myself here.)

Of course, some on the right don’t like where Farage has repositioned his party. But it does seem to be where the votes are. 26% of them anyway.

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And just as the Greens managed to repel a chunk of voters in the last days of their campaign, so Reform no doubt picked up significant new support, by unveiling its hilarious new policy of siting detention centres for illegal migrants in Green supporting constituencies, which have consistently and loudly voted for open borders.

You’d think that these beneficent do-gooders would be delighted to experience first hand, the cultural enrichment which comes from having hundreds of Eritreans, Afghans, Iranians, Somalians and Iraqis, move next to their local kid’s school.

After all, they have been literally screaming ‘Diversity is our strength!’ in our faces for years.

But not a bit of it.

Reaching for the smelling salts, the progressives described a policy, which they had spent years imperiously and enthusiastically imposing on the lower orders, as a ‘punishment beating’. Throwing a wholly predictable tantrum when confronted with the novel concept that they might actually be forced by the uppity proles, to suffer the real world consequences, of their own virtue signalling.

And it wasn’t just the left, some on the ‘sensible’ right have apparently decried the policy as well. Branding it spiteful and vindictive.

Yes. That’s the point.

Turning our nose up at this sort of ‘unreasonable’ politics is one reason why we keep losing.

Plus, it’s no more spiteful and vindictive than Bridget Phillpson slapping VAT on private schools, Rachel Reeves taxing farmers into suicide, or Labour Party grandees boasting how mass immigration was always intended to ‘rub the right’s nose in diversity.’

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Confronted by his party’s dismal results, Starmer did what he always does, and blamed his own catastrophic failure on simply not doing enough stupid things, quickly enough.

Rent controls, price controls, wealth taxes, Net Zero, welfare bloat, Digital ID, sky high taxes, rejoining the EU, open borders, an ever expanding authoritarian state.

This isn’t the politics of progress, it’s the politics of performance, ignorance, grievance, envy, and rage.

Policies which don’t work, have never worked, and can never work.

Still, if there is one thing Starmer excels at, it doubling down on failure. Which is why his latest ‘solution’ to Labour’s woes is to bring back Gordon Brown.

Yes. The very same Labour Prime Minister who ruined it all for his party, (and our country), the last time.

It’s as if Rishi Sunak attempted to steady his sinking ship, by bringing back Liz Truss.

Starmer is like a man, banging his head against a wall to cure a headache.

And when that doesn’t work, reaching for a hammer.

That’s enough for now. But let’s close on a positive note for once.

Like so many of you, I’ve been black-dogged by the steady, and under Starmer, accelerating, decline in our country of late. Unable to see any realistic path to recovery.

But I’m permitting myself the possibility that these local elections might represent, if not a bona fide turning point, then at least a glimmer, a tiny, fragile, but growing flame of hope, that perhaps there’s a chance to save this great nation after all.

No wonder Sir Keir Starmer, was so desperate to cancel them.

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Thanks again for coming

LSO

Madonna. Cher. Nico. Sade. Enya. And of course Lulu.

(Ten points if you’ve just shouted ‘Dana!’ At your laptop. )

Nowadays this styling is more often used by the high minded progressive classes to signal their damning moral condemnation of our most heinous modern villains.

‘Putin’, ‘Trump’, ‘Musk’ ‘Epstein’

Nearly always men, (even ‘Truss’ is usually granted a ‘Liz’) the names of these malefactors are spat out with clipped, staccato contempt.

As if their very articulation is an effluent, sullying the pristine, sin-free mouths of noble saints, being forced to utter them.

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And yet it does seem a curious coincidence that most, if not all of these degenerates spent decades as the lauded, celebrated, favourites of the very same elite class which now considers itself too virtuous and pure to even say their full names.

The now hated ‘Epstein’ is perhaps the worst/best example.

For years good old Jeffrey was held in thrall by the globalist classes.

Even after his conviction for soliciting a minor for prostitution, our elders and betters, men like Bill Clinton, Bill Gates, and Prince Andrew, continued to make an eager beeline to his door.

I can only imagine what attraction an island full of half clad, pliant, teenage girls, held for these highly principled, honourable, men.

Maybe Epstein Island gave them a much needed respite from tirelessly, and graciously lecturing the rest of us, about our own moral failings. Maybe it simply boasted a great pool table.

But since Jeffrey Epstein found himself subjected to a full on Kim Leadbeater, back in 2019, I guess we will never know.

Now a new name has joined this lamentable rogues’ gallery.

‘Mandelson’.

A vile snake of such low morals, poor reputation, and inferior character that it takes an almost super human effort for the great and the good, BBC journalists, top politicians, and Guardian columnists, to even gob out the unholy syllables of his loathsome appellation.

Mandelson has been on quite the journey. And not just to Epstein Isle and back.

Now a slick and slimy seventy something, I’m old enough to remember when moustachioed, and even a little gauche, he presented less like a sharp suited Davos insider, and more like a disappointed wannabe, trudging home from a failed audition for Frankie Goes To Hollywood.

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We are being spun the conceit that Starmer’s latest difficulties are ultimately the result of new information, scandalous revelations, and damning evidence, which has only just emerged, about the political class’s erstwhile golden boy.

But don’t be fooled, this is simply not true.

Peter Mandelson has not, thanks to a partial release of the ‘Epstein files’, been suddenly unmasked, in the fashion of a Scooby Doo villain, as a liar, quisling, and creep.

The elite classes have known all about him for thirty years.

After all, his penchant for, and mastery of, equivocation, dodgy, double dealing, and spin, is what earned him his reputation as the ‘Prince of Darkness’ in the first place.

Though just as the regime affected to be -shocked, shocked I tell you- when the true extent of the crimes committed by the same Pakistani Muslim rape gangs they had spent years, ignoring, covering up, and often actually facilitating, were finally revealed to an incandescent public, so our bosses clutched their pearls, in performative astonishment, when voters finally became privy to the grisly, grim, and grubby character traits the ruling elites had for decades, so highly prized in Lord Peter Mandelson.

At the time of writing the seemingly unflushable Sir Keir Starmer is clinging on to his role, as Britain’s worst ever Prime Minister.

Let’s be honest, no one has been so ill suited to a public position, since the BBC handed Jimmy Savile his very own kid’s show.

Last week, at the dispatch box, Starmer claimed that the entire Mandelson affair had been ‘put to bed’, even as he affected the countenance of a man accused of nothing more odious, than accidentally putting his bins out a day early.

It was a performance so bafflingly deluded that the question is no longer,

Why did Keir Starmer appoint an unvetted Peter Mandelson?

It is,

How the hell does this guy pass those online ‘Are you human?’ Captcha tests?

I guess he asks his wife to complete them for him.

Which must be embarrassing, when the website he’s trying to access is topsoff@Ukrainianfarmhand.net.

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Let’s be honest. Starmer has done well to survive this long.

From the Chagos Islands, to Southport, to Waheed Alli’s penthouse flat, his administration has already weathered multiple scandals, catastrophes, and disasters, any one of which would have brought down lesser, Tory administrations, in a heartbeat.

And incredibly, in the last few days, even as the temple collapses around him, he’s managed to squeeze out a new one. I alluded to it earlier.

Starmer is now accused of helping lay the legal groundwork, which allowed best pal and Attorney General, Lord Hermer, to pursue a ‘witch hunt’ against British servicemen. Targeting soldiers who supposedly impinged on the ‘human rights’ of Al-Qaeda terrorists, by not letting them massacre British troops.

(Yes top lawyers, I’m paraphrasing.)

But now Starmer has become such a liability, that even his own party, which only ever saw him as a means to an end, (an arms length, loveless, transactional relationship which he was only too happy to reciprocate) is finally abandoning him.

And forget Lord Mandelson, his party’s plummeting polling figures, or our flatlining economy. As far as many Labour backbenchers are concerned, it is Starmer’s reluctance to go full communist, and turn Britain into a Gaza-twinned, kid castrating, Maoist theme park, that is his biggest sin.

And that should terrify us all.

Because as awful as he is, there’s literally no way Starmer can be remotely as bad as any of the dunderheaded D listers waiting in the wings to replace him.

And here’s a scary thought.

In two weeks time, one of them, quite possibly will.

So now might be an opportune moment to get ahead of the curve, and work our way through the list of weak assed wannabes, giving each a score out of ten, based on their chances of becoming our next PM.

And please don’t get your knickers a twist if I say something you disagree with/ dislike/or think is unfair.

Yes, I’m over simplifying. But relax, it’s just a bit of fun.

Here we go.

Never more popular with his own reflection than he is right now, wide faced Wes Streeting senses his time has come.

But this one time Mandelson acolyte is considered too ‘right wing’ by his party. Mainly for his reluctance to accept the obvious diagnosis that the entirety of the problems facing our dysfunctional, broken, not fit for purpose NHS, can be put down to the refusal of ‘greedy billionaires’ to pay ‘their fair share’.

We should let Wes run for leader, but only after he’s spent five years on a waiting list. And then cancel his candidacy at the last moment.

Just to see how he likes it.

4/10

I wrote a whole piece about why King in The North, Andy Burnham will never get the top job. But maybe I was wrong.

If they parachute him into a safe seat. And he does a pact with Angela Rayner, I concede he could end up as Prime Minister.

Or even worse, chancellor.

Still, Andy Burnham is wildly popular among the proles. At least that appears to be the opinion shared by the Labour Party, the BBC, and Andy Burnham.

I’m still not convinced.

3/10

Angela Rayner. Now we’re talking. Tax swerving Ange is everything I want from a modern Labour leader.

Wrong headed. Sanctimonious. Crass. Innumerate.

Wearing her ‘working class’ credentials like a chain-vaping drag artist wears a diamonte encrusted boob tube, surely Our Ange is a shoo-in.

10/10

Like Streeting, Shabana Mahmood is considered too ‘right wing’ by much of her party.

Her evident Nazism springs from her half hearted, inadequate, attempts to stem the tide of chancers turning up on our coast demanding free hotels, health care, and teenagers.

But still, Mahmood represents a triple threat to the other candidates.

She’s easily the cleverest of the bunch. Her ‘tough on immigration’ affectations are genuinely popular with the public. And out of all the candidates, she is demonstrably the most Muslim.

That’s why they’ll gang up against her in any first round, and throw her overboard, quicker than a Dover bound asylum seeker, can dump his passport into the English Channel.

6/10

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Older readers may remember ‘The Worm That Turned’, the brilliant Two Ronnies sketch depicting a dystopian future where women in SS uniforms seize control of Britain.

Education enemy, Bridget Phillipson very much gives off that vibe.

She’s clearly got her eyes on the top job. Which is why, despite last year’s Supreme Court ruling that men are the ones with willies, and the bonus holers , are typically the ladies, (Who knew?) , Phillipson still refuses to issue trans ‘guidance’, for fear of losing the support of they/thems, confused blokes, and angry, blue haired women.

A confession: Phillipson would dress up like Heinrich Himmler, humiliate us like a nation of naughty schoolboys, and whip right leaning men like me, into dribble mouthed submission.

And I’d absolutely love it.

As a stereotypical dominatrix Bridget Phillipson is perfect. But as a politician, and a human being. She seems absolutely awful.

666/10.

Ed Miliband basically runs the government already.

He’s de facto energy minister, chancellor, and head of what’s left of the British armed forces, all rolled into one Wallace shaped, claymation package.

Already deciding who we fight, (er, no one), what we spend, and how many nanas we freeze to death with sky high energy bills. (Who cares? They probably vote Tory anyway)

But on the downside, Ed is Jewish. And since the Labour Party seems keen to win back all the voters who want to re enact the Holocaust find a peaceful, fair solution to the Palestinian problem, I’m not sure how that would work out for him.

5/10 (tho he’s already doing the job.)

David Lammy. Please, please let it be Lammy. Whatever happens, Britain is going be ruined in the next three years. At least with Lammy in charge we’ll get a laugh out of it.

And the irony is, if David Lammy did become PM, he’d go down in history.

Which means he’d never know about it.

11/10

Let’s quickly round up the no hopers

Yvette Cooper. Useless, charmless, and clueless.

She would be like a Starmer tribute act, but recast as a pinch faced, angry, schoolboy.

0/10

John Healy. The defence secretary keeps getting talked up at the moment, but he has zero public profile.

I follow this stuff religiously. And I still couldn’t pick him out of a dinghy full of Sudanese scientists.

0/10

Rachel Reeves. I’m not even going to bother to write anything about Labour’s tear stained tax taker.

0/10

(Though whatever happens, you can guarantee that by this time next year Rachel Reeves will have ‘Served as Prime Minister of Great Britain and Northern Ireland’ as the first entry on her CV.)

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Wild Card: Peter Mandelson.

Don’t be so quick to dismiss him. Let’s consider his credentials.

He’s a slippery, slimy snake. So he’s already well versed in Labour Party politics.

He has great global connections, being tight with the Russians, the Chinese, the Illuminati, and those pizza pedophiles who Hillary Clinton gets to run everything.

(It’s a joke Hillary. Please do not kill me.)

Peter boasts great name recognition, and is a familiar face everywhere from Davos, to Washington, to Chariots Men’s Sauna in Vauxhall.

(Yes. Another joke.)

And best of all. I understand that he’s already gone through quite extensive security vetting.

100/10

In a way it doesn’t matter who succeeds the failure that is Keir Starmer. It seems to me the chances of the centre right forming the next British government are about 30% and falling.

With a far left, Islamo coalition of the damned, almost inevitable.

I’m not being defeatist. It’s just maths. There are now too many people in this country living off the state, for there to be enough left over, to vote for a smaller one.

Plus, no one is making the argument against continuing with this lunacy.

And any who are, are either ignored, or branded ‘far-right’ by the subsidy dependent classes who run our civil service, our institutions, the ‘independent’ Bank of England, our media, and the BBC.

We’re sunk whatever happens. So maybe the only thing we can do, is strap in and enjoy the ride.

God bless us all.

And I’ll see you on the other side.

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They fib, fabricate and falsify, equivocate, prevaricate, exaggerate, and fabricate. They tell porkies, spout whoppers, and are ‘economical with the actualité.’

Of course they do, it’s all part and parcel of their grubby business. Only an idiot, or fantasist, or idiot fantasist could expect, or demand it were otherwise.

But having said all that, some politician’s entire careers, their reputations, and their legacies are defined by one single, outrageous lie.

Obviously America has the best examples.

Richard Nixon’s place in history is summed up by the lie ‘I am not a crook.’

And if George Bush Senior is remembered for anything other than instigating the evergreen trend of American presidents starting unpopular Gulf Wars, it is for promising

‘read my lips, no new taxes.’

Before promptly getting himself elected, and putting up taxes.

Then there’s Bill Clinton, who looked voters in the eye and lied

‘I did not have sexual relations with that woman. Miss Lewinsky’.

Miss Lewinsky’s dry cleaner would beg to differ.

The best current British version, (if we are to dismiss that most ubiquitous, dangerous, and ridiculous falsehood incessantly peddled by the leadership class, that ‘diversity is our strength’, a ludicrous nonsense which is proven to be such, every time you turn on the TV, open a newspaper, or look out of a window,) is Keir Starmer’s frankly risible claim to always be working ‘in the national interest’

He was at it again a couple of weeks ago during a limp ‘address to the nation’ which left many commentators puzzled.

Since it was less an announcement of what his slow car crash of an administration is doing, and more a tediously adenoidal declaration of what it isn’t.

And what Starmer isn’t doing, is joining America’s war on Iran.

‘First - let me say once again:’

He explained to his baffled, bemused, bored audience

‘this is not our war. We will not be drawn into the conflict. That is not in our national interest’.

And fair enough.

But don’t be fooled. Starmer’s reluctance to join the belligerents is not motivated by high minded principle, lofty patriotism, or concerns about the ‘national interest’.

It’s simply that his loathing of Donald Trump, our current state of penury, the paucity of our military resources, and Starmer’s reluctance to upset Labour’s already disgruntled Muslim voters, by siding with Israel, have metastasised into a Labour policy which for once, actually resonates with the public.

I guess the laws of probability meant it had to happen at some point.

Meanwhile our over-stretched security services are open about the fact they have foiled twenty (Twenty!!) Iran inspired Islamic terrorist plots on the British mainland in the last couple of years.

So in a way, it doesn’t matter if Starmer wants to be at war with Iran or not. The Iranian government clearly considers itself at war with us.

And to be honest, if we really could bomb the Iranian people into freedom and democracy I would probably be all for it. But we all know from bitter experience how that one plays out.

So on balance I side with Starmer. I think this war is a mistake.

Sure, the Iranians are attempting to build a nuclear weapon. And yes, that would be, as military strategists say, ‘very bad’.

But right now, you’ll forgive me if I don’t consider the future possibility of a degraded Iran gaining a nuclear bomb, as clear and present a threat to the my family, our nation state, and our traditional way of life, as that posed by, let’s say, the British Home Office.

In fact I am so in agreement with Starmer’s assertion that British involvement in yet another Middle Eastern conflict is not in our national interest, that I would be happy to take the principle even further.

Much further.

We should add Iran to a list of nations, including Iraq, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Somalia, and Eritrea.

And then do a deal with each and every one of them.

Our people promise to stay out of your country.

As long as your nationals stay out of ours.

If we could pull this off, the whole world, and especially England, the bit which I care about the most, (yes I know, what an absolute fascist) would undoubtedly be a happier, safer, and in our case, wealthier, place to be.

Of course such a thing will never happen.

Because according to ‘international law’ and ‘human rights’ legalisation, the citizens of those countries should have every right to come here, occupy our social housing, live off our benefits system, make free use of our health service, and then, when the fancy takes them, blow up our kids.

And that, according to activist immigration judges, and human rights lawyers like Attorney General Lord Hermer, (just to be clear, I’m not accusing him of anything) seems to be the most important thing.

Let’s be honest. We could hardly take a full and active part in this war, even if we wanted to. We have no army, no guns, no tanks, and no navy.

And absolutely no money left to defend ourselves from other threats, like an increasingly belligerent Russia.

Because just like the rest of Europe, we spent it all, on welfare, over regulation, foreign ‘aid’, bat tunnels, and interest payments on our country’s unsustainable mountain of debt.

In fact right now, Europe’s biggest single deterrent to invasion is Ursula Von Der Leyen’s personality.

Ok. Maybe that’s a bit unfair.

But I’ve not really trusted Von Der Leyen since that time she turned poor Mr Tumnus to stone.

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But not to worry.

Starmer knows exactly what is needed to resolve the current Middle East crisis.

And that is,

‘above all - clear and calm leadership’

Which is both a snide dig at Donald Trump, and an act of jaw dropping hubris.

Because when he says ‘clear and calm leadership’, what he obviously means is,

‘Not that madman Trump, but someone more like me.

In fact.

Actually me.’

Starmer’s attempts to rebrand himself as an international statesmen and peacemaker have failed spectacularly.

He looks in the mirror as he stumbles, dyspraxic, across the world stage, and tips an imaginary hat at a Thatcher, a Kennedy, a Kissinger.

While what the rest of the world sees is a hapless, hopeless, halfwit, Mr Bean.

A trifling irrelevance, a prattling nuisance, a piddling, pointless embarrassment.

I don’t know how Starmer hopes to stop a war in the Middle East.

When he can’t even prevent mobs of teenagers rioting in Clapham.

How he expects to defy the Iranian Revolutionary Guard, and police the Straits of Hormuz.

When his government is incapable of either preventing an armada of surgeons, engineers, and scientists crossing the English Channel in rubber dinghies.

Or closing our seas to the occasional Russian submarine.

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Starmer is quick to blame the war Trump’s war for Britain’s cost of living crisis, and especially our sky high energy prices.

Claiming that ‘clean energy’ (there’s no such thing) is

‘the only way we get your bills off the rollercoaster that is controlled by Putin and the Iranian regimes.

But our energy bills are not controlled by ‘Putin’ or the Iranians.

They are beholden to a malign, hostile force much closer to home. That quisling enemy of the British people.

Ed Miliband.

Forget Iran and ‘Putin’, the only thing which would genuinely insulate us from these energy price shocks would be to exploit our very own, very abundant, supplies of North Sea oil and gas.

But for ideological reasons, our self defeating, suicidal government refuses to drill for it.

It’s the worst act of self harm since Erin Moriarty booked a free consultation with her local plastic surgeon.

Now Starmer is promising to ease the burden on cash strapped families by ‘cutting’ energy bills and handing the ‘most vulnerable’ a £53m subsidy.

But in reality all that means is reducing, fractionally, the mountains of money Ed is stealing from us, to fuel his wild, far-left, nation destroying, green apocalypse.

In fact it’s not even that. Since these ‘cuts’, which will primarily benefit the unemployed, and those on welfare, they will inevitably be paid for, by dumping the costs of Starmer’s largesse on the cash strapped middle classes.

As ever, the government gets to trumpet its beneficence, the rest of us get to pay for it.

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Of course as far as Sir Keir is concerned, there’s really only one true villain, responsible for the appalling state of British finances. A nation which now spends more on welfare, than it raises in income tax.

And surprisingly it’s not Rachel Reeves. (That comes later. When throwing her under the bus is his last throw of the dice)

It’s Brexit.

Starmer is quick to point the finger of blame at his nationalist nemesis, claiming that

‘as the Chancellor has rightly pointed out, Brexit did deep damage to our economy’.

Before coming to the inevitable conclusion

‘it is increasingly clear that as the world continues down this volatile path, our long-term national interest requires closer partnership with our allies in Europe and with the European Union’.

Starmer considers the Iran war, and the unpopularity of Trump, as providing the perfect cover to achieve his long term political mission, his calling, his one true purpose.

To cancel and reverse, the 2016 EU Referendum.

Of course he does.

Many consider Starmer an ideological dead zone .

With fewer principles than a British aircraft carrier has fighter planes.

But this is not true.

Starmer has built his entire political career on his high minded, principled, and sacerdotal opposition to honouring the result of the EU Referendum.

It is the one single area where he has proved consistent, steadfast, and U-Turn free.

But let’s be clear. Our current cost of living crisis was not caused by Trump, Iran, Vladimir Putin, or some imagined Climate Apocalypse. (Although, yes, they have certainly helped it along a bit.)

It was not caused by rapacious bond markets, world events, ‘price gouging supermarkets’, or ‘greedy billionaires’.

And it certainly wasn’t caused by Brexit.

It was caused by the stupid, venal, self serving, economically illiterate decisions made by the brain dead idiots in our last government, and compounded by the CV fabricating halfwits top Bank of England economists, in charge of this one.

And now that their stupid policies have inevitably lead to financial, social, and cultural collapse, they can countenance just one solution.

The exact same policies. Only stupider.

The result is a catastrophically divided nation, and an economy which has experienced less growth over the last twenty years, than Peter Dinklage.

Starmer ignores his own failings, preferring instead to rehash the same old tired Remainer arguments, claiming the EU is

‘A partnership that recognises our shared values, our shared interests, and our shared future’.

But these people are not our partners, intimates, or friends.

Don’t get me wrong, they are not our enemies either. But they are definitely our rivals.

And to anyone who took even a cursory interest in Cameron’s woeful ‘reset’ negotiations, or Theresa May, and then Boris Johnson’s subsequent ‘ Brexit deal’, it is abundantly evident that we do not have remotely the same ‘shared interests’.

But when Starmer says the EU shares ‘our’ values. What he really means is ‘his’ values, and the values of a progressive class which has never forgiven us lowly bigoted Neanderthals for refusing to follow their clear and simple instruction, for refusing to pay due deference to their moral and intellectual superiority, for having the gall to form our own silly, incorrect opinions. For voting the wrong way in 2016.

Of course Starmer recognises a shared kinship with blank faced EU functionaries. Because just like him, they are also anti democracy, anti growth, anti innovation, anti small business, anti privacy, and anti freedom of speech.

And like him they revel in the petty tyranny of state control, ever expanding bureaucracy, and over regulation.

In fact it’s no exaggeration to say it feels that the only institution which currently despises Britain, British exceptionalism, and the British people, more than the EU, is its own government.

Starmer continuously claims to be working in the national interest.

Maybe so.

But whatever nation he’s referring to.

It certainly isn’t Great Britain.

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That’s all for today. I expect some of you will disagree with me, and each other, about the Iran war. I welcome a diversity of opinion in the comments, please argue as much as you like, but do keep it civil. See you there.

Thanks again and all the best

LSO

There’s a long list of contenders.

Maybe it’s some tough as nails SAS warrior, currently on a clandestine mission in Ukraine, or the Gulf.

Or closer to home, anyone daring enough to wear a Rolex in Mayfair, or take a phone call on Oxford Street. Nick Timothy. Or perhaps an ambulance driver in Golders Green.

Or anyone with the balls to say that the appropriate place for a bear as twee and annoying as Paddington, isn’t enjoying afternoon tea with the late Queen.

It’s being chained up, and dancing for pennies, in a Russian circus.

These are all worthy suggestions. But nope.

The bravest man in Britain today is Matt Brittin.

Who has just been appointed as the new Director General of the beleaguered BBC.

The broadcaster is being sued for $10bn by Donald Trump.

And since the president is busy turning ‘madman theory,’ into madman fact, by gaily despatching the heads of foreign organisations he doesn’t like, with unannounced drone strikes, Matt Brittin is clearly taking his life in his hands.

In case you had forgotten, and it might have easily slipped your mind, what with all that has been going on lately, the BBC felt compelled to defenestrate both its last Director General, Tim Davie, and its Head of (Fake) News, Deborah Turness, after an internal report ‘revealed’ that the state broadcaster has spent the last few years peddling all manner of misinformation to its ever dwindling audience.

I put ‘revealed’ in quotes because while the disclosure of widespread and systemic bias might have come as a shock to the performatively incredulous Guardian classes.

It was already pretty obvious to the rest of us.

The charge sheet was damning.

Promoting climate fantasy as scientific fact.

Using Hamas personnel, and even top terror bosses’ children, as TV presenters.

Pushing bonkers trans ideology on impressionable, vulnerable kids.

And of course re editing Donald Trump’s speeches to make him spout the opposite on BBC telly, to what he was actually saying, in real life.

(Don’t matter of course. The defence went. It’s the ‘sort of thing’ he’d say anyway. So it was actually fine.)

Chastened, and repentant, the BBC has spent the last few months listening to its critics, and come to the inescapable conclusion that what it needs to refloat this sinking ship, rebuild the trust of viewers, and finally deliver mainstream programming which appeals to everyone, not just progressives, activists, and angry minorities, is an ideological reset, and change of direction yet another left wing chief, with a PHD in wokery.

Meet the new boss.

Same as the old boss.

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A quick look at his CV reveals Matt Brittin has an incredibly broad range of media experience.

Stretching from the nation’s most left wing tabloid, The Daily Mirror, all the way to becoming top boss of the most far-left broadsheet in the country, the Guardian.

A newspaper which has never seen a ‘current thing’ it didn’t endorse, a museum it didn’t want to ‘decolonise’, a monument to a dead white guy it didn’t want to topple, and a gay child it didn’t want to castrate.

But Brittin’s biggest claim to fame is that he was, until recently, the head of Google in the UK.

Another notoriously progressive media organisation, which does its best, at least when I’m researching these articles, to filter out even the most milquetoast of right wing sources, in its search results.

And we’ve hardly got time to mention how he also headed up a charity pushing for civilisational collapse worldwide net zero by 2050.

So, yeah, as modern media moguls go, Matt Brittin is hardly Steve Bannon.

It’s when it comes to broadcasting that things get really interesting. Matt Brittin’s TV experience is literally nil. Zero. Zilch. Nada.

He’s genuinely less qualified to run BBC TV than Greg Wallace.

I’m not even sure he’s watched that much of it.

Last year Matt gave a speech to the Royal Television Society, and made a point of singling out for especial praise, his favourite ever show, Dr Who.

This is the IP which the BBC has managed to turn from one of its best loved, and more importantly, money spinning, legacy brands, into an idiotic woke fest of such execrable quality, that even Disney refused to fund any more of it.

An unwatchable rainbow spewing carbuncle of degeneracy, self indulgence, proselytising, and historical ignorance. So devoid of wit, reason, and intelligence, that had it limped on for another series, the Time Lords would have been obliged to rename the Tardis, the Retardis.

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Look, I don’t want to go after Matt Brittin personally.

I don’t know the guy. And I bet he’s as pleasant and thoughtful a representative of the progressive cultural elite as you’re ever likely to meet.

But that’s the problem. These people are all of a type. A breed. A set. A club. A cabal.

Convinced of their own moral, intellectual, and cultural superiority, they are congenitally incapable of reading a room. Responding to criticism. Or accepting another point of view.

With its average viewer now aged over sixty, finding a young person who tunes in, unbidden, to the BBC, is as likely as finding Mandelson- mate, Morgan McSweeney’s ‘stolen’ iPhone.

Or a 20 year old lesbian with tattoo-free knees.

But it’s not like people aren’t watching stuff.

You just have to sit in a cafe, catch a bus, or try talking to a teenager, to know that most people are watching screens, most of the time.

But increasingly, what is on those screens, isn’t the BBC.

Except maybe the occasional Tik-Tok edit of the Traitors Final.

Or a news report about how Broadcasting House has been forcibly evacuated. So that it can yet again, be swept for paedophiles.

But why are viewers deserting in such droves?

It’s a mystery. Which is apt.

Because there might be a clue in the recent BBC adaptation of Agatha Christie’s Murder is Easy.

Which reimagined the 1930s whodunnit as an opportunity to once again lecture us all on the evils of something the BBC considers far worse even, than cold bloodied murder.

Colonialism.

This constant Lammyfication of our history has resulted in literally every story set any time prior, to the day before yesterday, being reinterpreted as a riff on the evils of Empire, white people, white men, and white Britain.

It is grating, tedious, clueless, graceless, and wrong.

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Last year the BBC watched in wonder as universal praise was heaped upon Netflix by the ruling class, the progressive elites, and even our tone deaf, thick as mince, Prime Minister, after it produced a fanciful drama (or if you’re Keir Starmer a ‘documentary’) blaming the epidemic of stabbing, misogyny, and violent crime which is sweeping our nation, firmly at the feet of working class white boys.

And quickly decided that this was one ‘far-right bandwagon’ it was happy to jump aboard.

The result is series three of The Capture.

Full disclosure. This is not a show I have ever watched, I’ve just seen the clips doing the rounds on the internet. But according to Wikipedia it involves a tough, no nonsense, and diligent female cop, called DCI Girlboss who uses toughness and no nonsensing to diligently smash gangs of dissenting misinformationists who threaten the diverse utopia of progressive modern Britain.

OK. So maybe I’m paraphrasing from the Wikipedia summary a teeny tiny bit. But that’s certainly the general gist.

From all accounts the first couple of series were pretty good.

But it’s in this current, third series, where it all goes a bit Adolsecence.

All hell breaks loose when a white working class British man (Boo!!! Hiss!!!) posts on 4 Chan (no idea. But I think it’s like a far-right Mumsnet) how he used a series of Freedom of Information requests to discover that the British government has been concealing from voters, the full scale of our illegal immigration crisis.

Ikr? Pretty far fetched stuff.

The top cops are incredulous that anyone, let alone some random white bloke, would have the temerity to use a perfectly legal journalistic tool to question the multitudinous equivocations of Britain’s Janus faced junta.

And so, with the rainbow hued harmony of multi cultural Britain in jeopardy, DCI Girlboss and her diverse team of lovely law ladies swing into action to hunt him down, like the dog he is.

It’s edge of your seat stuff.

Well at least, I was on the edge of my seat.

Because judging what I’d seen so far, I figured I’d probably need to get up off my sofa at any moment, to answer the door to a squad of angry lady coppers who’d taken issue with my last Substack post.

Everything about this show seems over the top and ridiculous.

It’s 2026, so of course the squad of tough as nails goodies is made up almost exclusively of ethnically diverse women of all shapes, colours, and sizes.

This flying squad is less The Sweeney after a couple of pints.

And more The Sydney Sweeney.

But only after you’ve had six pints.

(Whoops! A sexist joke. There goes my hopes of getting that job on Repair Shop)

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The ladies are part of the best resourced squad in British law enforcement.

I know that Yvette Cooper, before being sacked from the Home Office for being rubbish, useless, and annoying, promised us an ‘elite unit’ of top cops who would soon be tasked with scanning our internet accounts, e mails, and personal messages, in the hope of finding fresh mums to imprison.

But we never expected they’d orchestrate it all from a base worthy of a 1980’s Bond villain.

These cops seem to have spent the country’s entire crime fighting budget on moody lighting, wide screen TVs, and the blanket satellite surveillance, of angry gammons.

No wonder there’s no money left to track down the real criminals; burglars, phone snatchers, shoplifters, and whoever dresses Hannah Spencer.

Worst of all, the drama also depicts it as a short ideological hop from putting in a Freedom of Information request about asylum seekers, to hanging out with a sniper rifle on a sand dune in Dover, with an adorable, if undocumented, kiddie migrant, in your sights.

Congratulations right-of-centre men, you’ve been promoted! From merely toxic, to baby killing monsters.

And that’s another thing. Where did he even get that sniper rifle?

Maybe it’s explained in the show. In which case, apologies.

But I expect that a sniper rifle is probably about the second hardest thing to obtain in Britain right now.

After an hospital appointment.

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With the number of licence fee payers plunging by two million since 2018, the BBC’s problems are becoming existential.

It can do one of two things.

Start making TV shows which appeal to a broad cross section of the British public. Tone down the messaging. Stop villainising 50% of its potential audience. And diversify its politics.

Or it can lobby to get rid of the licence fee altogether, and replace it with a scheme to get paid out of general taxation. So it can force the British public to pay for its content, whether they watch it or not.

No prizes for guessing which one it has been going with.

(Culture Secretary Lucy Nando’s recently ruled this out. For now.)

There is of course, another way.

A funding method which seems to work perfectly well for Netflix, Amazon Prime, Paramount plus, Hulu, and even po-faced Guardian reader favourite, Apple TV.

Subscription.

If the BBC is really as great and good, as the great and the good keep telling us, then people won’t mind paying for it.

After all Netflix doesn’t have to threaten you with prison if you don’t fork out to watch K-Pop Demon Hunters. (Ok. I know I’m pushing sixty. But recommended)

But the fact that BBC bosses have been so viscerally repelled by the subscription model, perhaps indicates that they might be less confident in their product, and yes, it is a product, not a ‘public service’, than they make themselves out to be.

I’ve defended the BBC before. It has been, historically at least, a brilliant British institution. A cornerstone of our shared culture. The maker of some of the best television in the world ever. And the breeding ground for several generations of era defining talent. (No. Not you Naga Munchetty)

But judging from its more recent output, I can’t escape the conclusion that the BBC no longer believes its role is to inform, educate, and entertain. But rather it is to sit in condescending judgement over the low caste British public’s poor lifestyle choices, wonky politics, and blinkered sexual preferences.

It apparently views me, and people like me, as little more than far-right lunatics, jack booted fascists, and wannabe kiddie killers.

Or else we are credulous fools, mindless morons whose every wrong opinion, and hateful prejudice has been poured into our ever gullible skulls by Nazis, demagogues, and current bogeyman du jour, the ‘Manosphere’.

So good luck Matt Brittin, I’m rooting for you, I genuinely hope you can turn things around.

I love the BBC. At least I love what it was, and what it still has the potential to be.

But for now at least, I’ll be enjoying more honest entertainment. Watching silly people falling over, on YouTube.

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Beaten into third place by a lady plumber with a toddler’s dress sense, a six year old’s grasp of economics, and the loved up- ‘let’s all just be nice to each other’ (except you Zionists obvs) positivity of an eight year old schoolgirl, off her nut on Sunny Delight, Labour has been left under no illusion about the perilousness of its predicament.

Muslim voters, who hold the key to a huge number of Labour seats, are deserting the party for the boob bothering Greens, the Gaza Independents, and whatever bonkers coalition of madness George Galloway is fronting these days.

And at the next election, the loss of these voters could prove the difference for the party, between a mere wipe out, and complete and total annihilation.

That’s why Labour has abandoned any pretence of tackling the costs of living crisis. Securing our borders. Fixing the NHS. Or even pursuing Keir Starmer’s self avowed ‘number one priority’, of importing into this country as many Britain hating Egyptians as possible.

And has instead invested all its time, energy, and political capital on something far more important.

Introducing an official definition of ‘Islamophobia’.

Which it has magically rebranded as “anti-Muslim hostility”.

Presumably as a way to pretend it is not really ushering in a new, religion-specific blasphemy law, by the back door.

Which it absolutely is.

The left loves a rebrand.

Illegal immigrants are rebranded ‘undocumented migrants’. The genital mutilation of confused minors is rebranded as ‘gender affirming care.’ And a job in customer services is rebranded as ‘working as a top economist’.

The unhinged progressives have even tried to rebrand harmless, misunderstood, paedophiles as ‘minor attracted people’.

A campaign which thankfully remains in its infancy.

Which is just the way they like it.

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In a way you can’t blame Labour trying to win back potential voters.

Especially since the Muslim population of Britain no longer represents a niche voting block.

Here’s a fact that people often find suprising.

There are already significantly more Muslims living in Britain (4 million) than there are Welsh people. (3.2 million)

And since these figures are based on the 2021 census, the numbers are now likely to be much, much higher. (I’ve rounded up slightly to 4 million)

Yet even at this level there are now more than enough Muslims in Britain to exclusively populate seven cities the size of Manchester.

But of course the standard liberal response to someone like me pointing out these jaw dropping numbers is to shrug and say, ‘So what?’

Before smearing me as a bigot, a racist, and an ‘Islamophobe’. Merely for having the temerity to do counting.

And fair enough. Maths is racist after all.

But let’s be honest here.

The Muslim population of Britain is no longer a ‘minority’ in the traditional sense of the word. This is a whole different order of magnitude. And absolutely unprecedented.

And anyone claiming this massive influx of people from foreign, sometimes hostile, cultures does not represent an existential challenge to our traditional British way of life, is either deluding themselves. Or is attempting to delude the rest of us.

Steve Reed, a key Starmer ally, and the Secretary of State for Housing, Communities (There’s the problem right there. We should be promoting one community, not dozens of them) and Local Government, stood up in the Commons last week to announce the government’s new definition of ‘anti-Muslim hostility’

It’s all part of Starmer’s broader ‘social cohesion’ strategy. Which largely seems to involve solving the myriad problems caused by the multitude failures of multiculturalism, by pretending there aren’t any.

Or by blaming the native white population for not doing nearly enough to ‘integrate’ with immigrant communities.

But please don’t feel bad, it’s not all your fault.

Also in the dock , is ‘Tory austerity’, which Reed claims made ‘some Muslims feel unwelcome by their compatriots’.

And fair enough. The hopeless Tories did so much damage to this country during the fourteen years that they pretended to be in power, that I see no reason not to blame them for ‘Muslim hostility’ as well.

Though without wanting to sound like a gammony old grump-a-lump, I’m not sure that ‘some Muslims’ blowing up all those buses, tube trains, and kids, did much to help either.

But of course Reed never mentioned any of that, because to remember is to racist. And that would never do.

Still, If Reed genuinely thinks the Tories are the ones responsible for fermenting the ‘anti-Muslim hostility’ which his government insists infests so much of our society, it’s kinda surprising that he hired one of them to define it for him.

Labour’s definition has been drafted by Conservative grandee Dominic Grieve.

A Tory so wet, he makes Rory Stewart look like Enoch Powell.

Of course this isn’t the first time Grieve has been at the forefront of a cross party, anti democratic campaign to destroy Britain.

Back around 2018 he was leading the charge to ignore the voters, cancel the EU Referendum, and overturn the largest plebiscite in British history.

No wonder Labour loves him.

But credit where it’s due. Grieves’ definition is not all bad.

After all, it is at pains to condemn

‘practices and biases within institutions [that are] intended to disadvantage Muslims in public and economic life.’

And I agree wholeheartedly with that condemnation.

Because, as I often point out on this Substack, I genuinely abhor racism, and firmly believe that no British institution should intentionally disadvantage any race, religion, or ethnicity, when it comes to careers, opportunities, or earning power.

But maybe Grievesy could mention this aversion to institutional racism, discrimination, and prejudice, to the British police force, the British armed forces, the British security services, and the BBC.

All of which are British institutions, notorious for discriminating against white applicants in their recruitment processes.

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Of course Labour’s scheme to favour one identity group above all others, create government mandated divisions between sections of society, marginalise the white majority, encourage sectarianism, and make different ethnic and religious groups compete for limited resources, is all well and good.

But it means nothing if you can’t appoint a faceless, unaccountable, bureaucrat to police it all.

So Reed also announced the appointment of a new anti-anti Muslim hostility ‘tsar’ (surely ‘ayatollah’) to enforce his government’s new, noxious and self defeating inclusive and balanced, social cohesion policy.

We don’t yet know who will be given this controversial position, but it is clear that whoever takes on the role will need to demonstrate an almost super-human level of sensitivity, balance, and impartiality.

Which is why Starmer will no doubt appoint some kind of radical far left activist, shriek voiced progressive, and uncompromising, fanatical ideologue.

Who, under the guise of fighting ‘racism’, tackling ‘hatred’ and building ‘social cohesion’, will stifle debate, silence criticism, and significantly advance the cause of authoritarianism, despotism, and over reaching state censorship.

Of course I could be wrong. But Starmer hasn’t exactly got a great track record when it comes to appointing top officials to highly sensitive government positions.

Right Mandy?

While some might feel the government has go too far, others believe it has not gone nearly far enough.

Bradford East MP Imran Hussain stood up in the House of Commons to claim than in Britain right now, it feels like there’s an

“open season of hatred against British Muslims”

But that just nonsense.

Many of us, I’d suggest most of us, me included, have individual Muslim friends, co workers and acquaintances who we like very much, and who we value as fellow citizens.

And while some on the right might wish to deport millions of perfectly legal, perfectly law abiding British citizens, I’d suggest most of us consider such calls both counterproductive, and morally objectionable.

With such demands merely feeding into the divisive fake narrative of a ‘hostile’ British public which Steve Reed, this government, and Imran Hussain, seem so desperate to exploit.

(Please feel free to disagree with me on this point. But if you want to throw the insults about because we don’t share the same perspective on the issue, please don’t bother.)

The reality is that despite the progressive left’s constant contempt, disdain, and derision, most British people are incredibly tolerant, welcoming, forbearing, and amenable.

To the extent that we have spent years bending over backwards to accommodate every gripe, grumble, and grievance cooked up by the most extreme, and often self appointed, ‘leaders’ of the Muslim community.

From using the police to enforce ‘no-Jews’ bans on our major cities, to the refusal to ban sharia courts, and cousin marriage.

From standing by as a schoolteacher is forced into hiding for teaching the national curriculum, to turning a blind eye to wholesale electoral fraud, rebranded, (here they go again) as harmless ‘family voting.’

From finding ‘no dogs’ signs in our parks, (hilariously the local MP suggested they might have been put up in the night by the imaginary EDL!), to halting major football matches mid way through, so as not to inconvenience Muslim players during Ramadan.

And I’m trying to not even mention the way government institutions like social services, the police and the Home Office, not only ignored, but actively facilitated, the ‘grooming gang’ scandal.

Which let’s not forget, the now Deputy Leader of the Labour Party, Lucy Powell MP, was quick to dismiss as a mere right-wing ‘dog whistle’.

We have tolerated all this and much, much more.

Only to be told time after time, concession after concession, that it is not enough.

That we are the awful ones.

The small minded set-in-our ways bigots who must change our society, ‘integrate better with newcomers’, turn our back on our traditions, deride our own history, and even replace the national heroes on our banknotes with woodland creatures lest dead white people’s ugly mugged colonialism offend factional sensibilities.

We are the ever pliable majority who must re-write our laws, accept a two tier justice system, and abandon centuries old cultural norms, so as to better serve the needs of an ever vocal, always demanding, minority.

And it’s not just Islam of course. I’m not ‘picking on Muslims’ like Imran Hussain claims.

It’s just that amongst all society’s divas; the unconvincing men in dresses, the doom drenched enviro apocalypticians, the people too sad to work, the ever needy ‘asylum seekers’, foreign crooks and their nugget loving children, the mad scientists who want to cure gay kids by cutting off their body parts, and a myriad other clients of the tumorous ‘human rights’ industry, it is self appointed Muslim ‘community leaders’ who seem to be the most vocal, the most petulant, and the most imperious.

I’m not suggesting for a moment that we should uniquely refuse to indulge the foot stamping tantrums of Islamists.

I’m suggesting we refuse to indulge all of them.

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If we are genuinely seeking to create a ‘cohesive’, open, and tolerant society, and we should be, then writing special laws to accommodate each and every favoured constituency’s moans, grumbles and demands, while allowing it to skip and ignore any rules or customs which offend its particular religious, personal, sexual, or cultural sensibilities, cannot possibly be a good way to go about it.

Ultimately our government should not be wasting its time, and our money, cooking up ever more harsh and oppressive means, to prosecute, harass, and silence the majority, every time some disgruntled minority feels it has been insulted, disrespected, or inconvenienced.

In fact it should go much further, repeal all ‘hate crime’ legalisation, and explain clearly, robustly, and definitively, to every newcomer, every fractious, testy, identity group, that while we will do our best to accommodate them, it is wholly their responsibility, if they want to live as part of this society, to obey the nation’s laws, adhere to its rules, and respect our cultural norms.

And if they don’t think they can manage that, well maybe Great Britain is not the country for them.

Danegeld, appeasement, call it what you will.

Whatever concessions we make will never be enough.

Of course not.

Our ruling elites have worked incredibly hard over the last thirty years to teach unreasonable people the lesson that the more they demand, and the louder they demand it, the more the government will give them, and the more the rest of us will be forced to change our culture, our nation, and our society, to accommodate those demands.

And in the end, we cannot really blame them for learning that lesson.

Just last week. Sir Keir himself whinged that there were “too many people in politics” who wanted to promote “grievances” between different groups of people.

He’s right for once.

Only thing is, he, and his nation wrecking party, are chief amongst them.

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Thank you for reading Low Status Opinions.

To be honest I was in two minds about writing this one.

I’ve tried to be balanced and reasonable. At least as balanced and reasonable as the subject allows. And I’ve been careful to choose my words very carefully, and suggest you do the same in the comments.

Anything that I consider too spicy I will have to delete. I’m worried about inviting a knock on the door from Plod, because one of my readers has robustly expressed an opinion Keir Starmer doesn’t like.

Apologies if you find this onerous. But on the plus side please remember, if you want to insult Christians, Sikhs, Hindus, Buddhists, Jews, or those oat peddling Quakers, then please, feel free to fill your boots.

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ATB LSO

As we chatted I mentioned a few of the positions I’d held. Furniture salesman, fruit picker, shopkeeper, warehouseman, deckchair attendant, newsagent, and petrol pump attendant.

She was pretty impressed with the breadth of my experience, if not with the high flying, Wolf of Wall Street, status of my roles.

But the one thing that genuinely left her gobsmacked, was when I told her that I’d worked in pretty much every one of those positions, by the time I was her age. Seventeen.

As Saturday jobs through my younger teenage years, or as weekend and evening work while I was studying for my A levels.

(One B and a C since you ask. Third rate northern polytechnic, here I come!)

My daughter, on the other hand, has only ever had one job.

Babysitting.

Because it’s the only thing she’s ever been able to get.

It’s tough out there. Many high street shops, which used to need weekend staff, have been either shuttered, turned into charity stores, money laundering Turkish barbers, or otherwise repurposed as some form of all-you-can-nick, shoplifting emporium.

Meanwhile, well meaning labour laws, which were no doubt designed to protect children from abuse and exploitation, have done little but shield youngsters from character building, hard work, and life experience.

If the situation is tough for kids looking to pick up a little pocket money, it is catastrophic for graduates fresh from uni, and applying for a full time job.

I appreciate this is anecdotal, and I’m sure you have your own stories, but my daughter told me about a couple of older students she knew.

One has a 1st class degree in International Relations (Not sure exactly what that is, but it sounds impressive. To me at least) and had applied for 250 positions. With no luck.

And the other, also a graduate, spent three years looking for a full time job before he eventually found one.

Working in Foot Asylum.

Half of our young people are going to university, and working hard(ish) for three years with the expectation that when they leave, they will benefit from a bunce boosting ‘graduate premium’.

Only to discover that a degree in Lesbian Penis Studies isn’t quite the key to the (wrong) Executive Washroom they had been promised.

And what’s worse, they’re leaving saddled with tens of thousands of pounds of debt.

Which these would-be fashion designers, software engineers, forensic scientists, and psychologists could well spend the next thirty years paying off, one stacked supermarket shelf at a time.

The student loans system is a scam of many parts. Not least in the way the government uses the higher RPI rate to calculate the interest on student loans, (before whacking on an extra, wage gouging 3%) while choosing the lower CPI when calculating other debts.

The only upside is that this ongoing scandal has given blue haired, ironmonger mugged, gender queer, arts graduates the valuable opportunity to learn the meaning of such opaque economic terms as ‘fiscal drag’, ‘compound interest’, ‘risk premium’ and ‘absolutely fucked’.

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But while money saving expert Martin Lewis spars on live TV, with MP losing expert, Kemi Badenoch about the subject, less attention is being given to the almost million British youngsters who, significantly less middle class, and substantially less well educated than student loan victims, are currently designated as not in education, employment, or training.

Which is a ‘NEET’ way of saying, ‘all the kids our society has already dumped on the scrapheap’.

The government is well aware of the issue of youth unemployment, which is why

‘The cross-party Work and Pensions Committee has launched a new inquiry examining the causes’

(Spoiler Alert: It’s Rachel Reeves)

And is currently making a big deal about ‘supporting young people into work’ with ever more taxpayer funded schemes. Recently pledging to spend over £725m to help tackle the problem.

It’s performative window dressing a step in the right direction for sure, but most young people don’t want placements, schemes, Youth Hubs, (Didn’t your nice Mr Epstein used to run one of those Peter?), bursaries, or strategic reviews.

They just want a proper job.

And the truth is that you can have all the schemes you like. If you don’t have a functioning market economy, there will never be the actual, proper jobs for young people to do.

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Young people are increasingly angry that the system does not work for them in the same way that it worked for my generation.

And they are certainly getting a much rougher deal than we ever did.

But not because the system which allowed us to buy property, raise a family, and build some capital, has failed, but because after a thirty year slide into statism, over regulation, and creeping, suffocating, socialism, it is barely the same system at all.

When I was first making my way in the world, the state gobbled up around 35% of GDP.

A massive chunk of the nation’s wealth for sure. But nothing like the 45% our blobby, bloated, ballooning, government busily hoovers up today.

That means the state consumes almost half the wealth generated by all the people in the country, every single year.

Which is why in 2025, Tax Freedom Day, the point each year when economists calculate we stop working for Ed Miliband, Wide Faced Wes Streeting, Liz Kendall, that awful Phillipson woman, and David Lammy, and start actually working for ourselves, didn’t fall until 24 June.

And as all my Druid readers will know, that’s three days after the Summer Solstice, the half way point of the year.

But even this level of rapacious plunder is deemed insufficient by our ever expanding state.

Which wastes so much of our wages on keeping the work-shy in PlayStations, asylum seekers in hotels, Lucy Nando’s in freebies, the public sector in gold plated pensions, Mauritius in Chagos Islands, foreign crook’s kids in chicken nuggets, angry mums in prison, Rory Stewart’s wife in do-goodery, rabid bats in railway tunnels, Eritrean rapists in legal aid, sad people in free cars, our town centres in diversity barriers, Ed Miliband in windmills, foreign NGOs in grants, the NHS in rainbows, and Ursula Von Der Leyen in our fish, that last year it was forced to borrow an extra £112bn, just to keep the lights on.

Right now in Britain, the only place you’ll find any real money, is in the swear box at BAFTA.

Just like our students, we’re drowning in debt. Debt which one way or another, the next generation will have to pay off.

And no, we can’t just money-print our way out of it. Because despite what our kids may have been taught by highly qualified people who don’t know anything, Modern Monetary Theory is not actually a thing.

And where is all this spending getting us anyway?

Just last week a former health minister admitted that doubling the money we’ve spent on the NHS over last seventeen years has had literally “no impact” on the nation’s health.

None.

The NHS has not got 30% better, 20% better, or even just 10% better.

In fact, since we have doubled the amount of money we’ve spent, to receive exactly the same results, it hasn’t just stayed the same, it has got demonstrably worse.

And yet the only solution which we are ever allowed to countenance is to shovel ever more our wages into the money furnace. While handing junior doctors 28%, no strings attached, pay rises. And hoping Nan doesn’t buy herself a pair of Heelys.

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All this borrowing and spending comes with huge opportunity costs, especially for the young.

This is money which they now cannot spend buying a home. Starting a family. Building a business. Or having their face pierced.

So it’s no wonder young people are becoming increasingly disillusioned with our Potemkin brand of democracy.

With barely over half, just 57%, trusting in our voting system. And one in five seduced by those offering more authoritarian forms of governance.

Do you hear that Yvette? You’re up!

We can see this growing rejection of the mainstream in the way the two sexes, (Sorry students there are only two! Your teachers were supposed to teach you that on the day they decided instead to tell you that soup is racist), are diverging politically.

And not just a little bit. A lottle bit.

The girls are flocking left. Leapfrogging socialism to jump straight into the billionaire bashing, boob boosting, arms of Dave Paulden Zack Polanski.

Whose newly ascendant Green Party is truly a multi coloured rag bag of nutjobs, wackos, crackpots, and loons. An unstable coalition of environmentalists, Islamists, fantasists, communists, and hypnotists.

Notable by their absence from that list, of course, economists.

But never mind, Zack’s most diehard supporters are still 100% dedicated to improving the environment.

By denuding it of CO2 emissions, wealth, and Jews.

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Meanwhile the boys are heading rightward. With many supposedly now dismissing fussy fuss fop Nigel Farage as a wishy washy liberal, and embracing instead the purity spiralling ethno-nationalism of unlikely lad’s pin up, Rupert Lowe.

Sure, the Mean Girls might be preaching caring, kindness, and compassion, while marching in lockstep support of terf punching men in dresses, full term abortionists, illegal immigrants, and ‘anti-Zionist’ baby killers.

But as far as the BBC, the government, the Guardian, Netflix, Jess Phillips and the legacy media are concerned, it’s only the Union Jack draped boys, who are toxic.

Poisoned by Adolescence, brainwashed by Andrew Tate, (who I now realise looks just like Zack Polanski, after a manly make over) and corrupted by the manosphere (whatever the hell that is). It is only the lads who are deemed to pose a threat to our civilisation, only the boys who must be neutered, neutralised, fettered, and fixed.

Rupert and Zack are very different in their presentation. But surprisingly similar in their message.

Both contend that our country is broken. That the system is rigged. And that without some pretty radical changes, Britain will regress, in two hundred and fifty short years, from ruling the waves, to sinking below them.

And even if I don’t support either Lowe, or Polanski, and I don’t, that doesn’t stop them being right.

The resounding, unequivocal win for the far left, hard left, Islamo left, commie left, Greens in Gorton and Denton has taught us two things.

Firstly that we can add electoral fraud ‘family voting‘ to the ever growing list of things, like forming a rape gang, threatening schoolchildren, sending death threats to a teacher, stabbing a book burner, marrying your cousin, banning Jews from football grounds, blocking a street, halting a football match, and wandering round Birmingham armed with a machete, that are rightly unacceptable, or even actually illegal, when you or I do them, but de facto OK when ‘certain communities’ (no actually, it’s just the one community) do them.

(Can you imagine for a moment if Reform had won a by-election using similar tactics? Not only would the vote have been immediately cancelled. Poor Emily Maitlis would have popped apart on live TV from self righteous indignation.)

And secondly, if we don’t strive to provide young people with a government that actually helps them build the future they want, and frankly deserve, they could well end up joining a Red Guard coalition of Greens, Ange’s Labour Party, ‘Gaza Independents’, Jezza’s Nonsense Alliance, and the spine-free Lib Dems, and simply take it from the rest of us.

Britain’s youngsters have been betrayed by their government. Robbed by their educators. Misled by their parents. And sacrificed by their police force.

It’s like the older generation took the wheels off the school bus, sold them for scrap, then told the kids to get out and push.

No wonder they are pissed off.

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If you enjoyed this article please do give it a ‘like’, and/or share it with your friends. It really helps this Substack grow.

Also please consider subscribing. It’s free though there is a paid option.

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Thanks to everyone who does, and an especially thanks to all the readers who press it time and again. You really help make all the work I put into these posts worthwhile.

Lots and lots happening in the world at the moment. I hope you are managing to keep pace with it all, and that all is good with you and yours.

See you in the comments. Please remember though, this is a place for open chat and healthy debate. If you’d prefer to insult me, or anyone leaving a comment on my Substack, then please don’t bother, no one here is remotely interested.

All the best

LSO

But somehow, just like the theory that Covid came from a successful failed lab experiment, that our court system is being purposefully reconfigured to dispense two tier justice, that our most trusted safeguarding institutions have presided over a decades long rape gang cover up, that our supposedly impartial state broadcaster, the BBC, is in thrall to socialists, Hamas, and transgender activists.

And that beefy boxer Imane Khelif* is actually a fella.

This one also turns out to be true.

*(I mean, a clue might be that his first name is practically ‘I man’)

Which I guess explains why I’m a populist.

Wikipedia defines populism as

‘a range of political stances that emphasize the idea of the common ‘people’ and often position this group in opposition to a perceived ‘elite‘.

Essentially a populist is someone who puts the blame on the elites for pretty much everything which has gone wrong with our society.

Which I do.

And brands these same elites as the enemy of regular people.

Which they are.

Because, despite the shrill protestations of the democracy dodgers, rent seekers, and economy crashers, currently running this great nation into the ground, the biggest challenges facing our society are not caused by climate change, economic cycles, capitalism, ‘greedy billionaires’, ‘Putin’, Brexit, ‘far-right thugs’, Elon Musk’s X, buy-to-let landlords, ultra processed foods, ‘Trump’, Jim Ratcliffe’s ‘clumsy’ words, or Victoria Beckham’s dirty dance moves.

They are almost invariably caused by them. The bosses. Our ruling elite.

And are a direct result of the moronic decisions they make. The nonsensical ideologies they cling to. And the anti growth, anti British, and anti human policies, they bullheadedly pursue.

Our elites are in charge of everything. And yet seem to lack the ability, the talent, or the resolve, to achieve anything.

They cannot run a health service, yet they have taken it upon themselves to decree what we should eat for supper. They cannot catch a burglar yet they diligently round up mums for saying nasty things on Facebook. They refuse to police the borders of this country, yet claim they have a moral duty, (and the manpower) to fortify the borders of Ukraine. They cannot fix a pothole yet maintain that through our enforced sacrifice, they can fix the weather in Bangladesh.

In 2126.

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Our elites defend their incompetence, their ineptitude and their failure, by pointing to the incredible difficulty of their task. That a nation is an unfathomably complex machine, comprised of an almost infinite number of moving parts.

And fair enough.

But if that is true, and it is, then simple mathematics, the law of probability should dictate they get something right. Eventually.

But our current rulers, I won’t say ‘leaders’, somehow manage to get everything wrong.

Every single time.

How do they fail us? Let us count the ways.

Our elites are economically incontinent. They have borrowed so much from our children, we are spending well over £100bn a year on debt interest alone.

To put that in perspective. That’s about half what we spend on the NHS, about the same as we spend educating our children, and just a little less than Peter Hitchens shelled out last month on Lucy Letby merch.

They make it cheaper for employers to hire foreign workers, while raising taxes, National Insurance, and the minimum wage to such vertiginous levels that companies have no choice but to decimate their British workforce, consign millions to the dole queues, and send any remaining jobs overseas.

Our elites aren’t lying when they claim to be ‘laser focused’ on growing the economy.

But unfortunately for us, that’s the economy of India, Vietnam, Pakistan, and China.

While the common folk toil for ever shrinking wages. Our lanyard loving elites breeze by, surfing an endless tsunami of public sector stipends, government contracts, state sponsored charity, Arts Council funding, environmental subsidy, parliamentary grants, and a myriad other forms of taxpayer funded largesse.

Awash with riches, our beneficent masters prove ever desperate to express their steadfast virtue, through the medium of other people’s money.

And so our jaws drop with incredulity as we watch regime royalty like Rory Stewart’s wife, spend millions teaching high art to disinterested Afghans, (Wow. Turns out there are actually a few Afghans still left in Afghanistan! Who knew?) even as her smug faced husband podcasts his sanctimonious disdain for the little people who pay for it all.

Our bosses puff out their scrawny chests, and proudly boast how, thanks to the idiocy of Net Zero, we lead the world in expensive energy, stupidity, and self immolation.

And have somehow convinced their jet-setting selves, that emerging nations, inspired by our righteous imbecility, will embrace our suicidal example, and enthusiastically follow us back to the pre industrial Dark Ages.

Ever anxious to find innovative new ways to impoverish British workers, our noble elites invite the world’s poor to brave burning oceans and un-smashed gangs, to take up permanent residence in our finest hotels, all at our expense.

And then prioritise the housing and healthcare of illegal immigrants over veterans, and native taxpayers. While showering free legal services on foreign terrorists, rapists, and crooks.

I say ‘free’, but of course these benefits are only free to the ‘asylum seekers’ themselves. They are cripplingly expensive for you and I, while remaining reassuringly lucrative for our human rights lawyer riddled elites.

Because if you don’t think the preeminent ranks of society are gaily getting rich off your creeping immiseration, I have a pub to sell you.

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And of course any who complain about the asymmetry, the injustice, the naked unfairness of this broken system are condemned as knuckle dragging Neanderthals.

Bigots who, for some unaccountable reason, fail to appreciate the myriad, cultural benefits of housing unvetted, violent, Middle Eastern men, from cultures where misogyny and sexual assault are normalised, in HMOs conveniently located within easy access of their daughter’s school.

But better watch your words. Our ever vigilant elites are primed, prepped, and poised to detect ‘racism’ in every gesture, every countryside ramble, every bag of rice.

But somehow fail to notice, when it marches, down our shuttered, empty high streets, thousands strong, chanting death to Jews.

The progressive elite’s brutal, brittle, unforgiving ‘woke’ religion is anti truth, anti logic, and anti human.

The ‘science’ of trans has been discredited, debunked and disproved countless times. By geneticists, doctors, psychologists, and now, our own Supreme Court.

But still progressivism’s true believers, who, to a man, seem suspiciously obsessed with the genitals of minors, plough on with this noncey nonsense.

Spending £11 million of our wages on a puberty blockers ‘trial’, designed to asses, catalogue, and index, the myriad social benefits of chemically castrating children.

The Epstein enthusiasts scream ‘misogynist!’ at blameless white adolescents, even as they themselves pollute women’s prisons with male offenders, call pregnant women ‘birthing people’, redesignate vaginas as ‘bonus holes’, excommunicate Harry Potter’s terfy mum, and encourage men to cheat their way onto podiums in female sports.

Meanwhile, endless legislation tumbles from parliament like an overflowing toilet. And yet our elites never enforce the laws they already have.

We grant the stakeholder stasi innumerable powers to arrest crooks. Lock up sex offenders. Hunt down terrorists. And deport foreign criminals. Yet they choose not to use them.

Preferring instead to fling open our prison doors, and allow crooks, crims, and creeps, back onto our streets, while persecuting law abiding citizens who dare to say nasty things about illegal immigrants, weirdo men in dresses, Islamist bombers, and child abusers.

The progressives who administer our broken, two tier justice system, demand soft sentences for minorities, Muslims, drug addicts, and fellas in frocks. While the right to a jury is stripped from the rest of us, for fear we might receive a fair trial.

Our elites instruct us, Don’t Look Back in Anger as our children are stabbed in dance classes, blown to bits at pop concerts, and abused in countless taxi offices.

And at the behest of machete wielding ‘local communities,’ top cops draft in the riot police to ensure that the streets of our second city remain Jew free on match day.

Petty-fogging councils fine diligent homeowners thousands of pounds for putting their bins out a day early, while their own incompetence fills the rancid streets of bin bag Birmingham with festering mountains of rotting garbage.

The caring class demands new rights to compassionately murder the inconvenient, and snuff out the lives of the almost-born in the name of feminism.

They sacrifice countless lives waging pointless wars no one wants, then, their delicate sensibilities offended by the reality of conflict, punish as ‘war criminals’ the brave men they themselves sent to fight them.

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Our elites demand we bang pots and pans for our failed Health Service while stealing doctors and nurses from poor countries to staff our crumbling hospitals, because they prefer to have talented British youngsters stacking shelves, than training as medics.

Our know-nothing elites demand that half our children attend university. Even as their own government turns loan shark, and crushes, all but the richest, and most privileged with a lifetime of ever mounting debt.

Actually sending social mobility backwards, while cementing their own sallow skinned, blue haired progeny’s exalted position, at the apex of our broken society.

Our martinet masters endlessly pontificate about protecting ‘our democracy,’ before taking a chainsaw to our voting rights and attempting to cancel inconvenient elections. Terrified that the uppity electorate might have the gall to defy instructions, and vote for the wrong parties.

They imperiously, begrudgingly grant us a referendum to decide the fate of our country. And when we choose incorrectly, they spend ten years diligently working day and night to defy democracy, and overturn our vote.

These internationalists rebrand our history as pillage, dismiss our victories as barbarism, and smear our proud ancestors as bigots, thieves, and slavers.

They celebrate and sanctify every inflammable minority, every female fettering religion, every multi million murdering ideology, and every creepy, kid corrupting kink.

Yet show them the Cross of St George and they reach for the smelling salts, their delicate sensibilities overwhelmed by the sheer vulgarity of our unacceptable in-group preference.

Their sanitised, Disneyfied version of nationhood is not rooted in history, culture, tradition, integration, or, heaven forfend, blood.

Instead it is ‘civic nationalism’, a certificate based citizenship which can be instantly conferred upon anyone from anywhere, from Mauritius to Mordor, with the wave of a Home Office wand.

Incapable of completing their assigned tasks, of fixing our economy, healing our sick, educating our children, building our railways, or defending our borders, our elites instead turn their Sauron spotlight upon us.

They rail against that most modern bogeyman, the chimerical villain of ‘Hate’. While clearly hating the very people they so ineptly govern.

Claiming we are victims of our own stupidity, gullibility, and inferiority, glaring defects which only they, the enlightened classes, have the wherewithal to mitigate, manage, and mend.

Our pedophile pandering politicians have the gall to warn of feeble minds tricked by tech bosses, muddled by ‘misinformation’, deceived by demagogues, and enslaved by instinct. And use this slur as justification to grant themselves licence to meddle in, and micromanage, every tiny facet of our lives.

These joy repelling puritans take it upon themselves to demarcate how much sugar is permitted in a Mars Bar, how much salt in a burger, how much booze we may imbibe in a week. With their ultimate goal in each case, clearly being ‘none’.

Self appointed busybody bosses decree what Tik Toks we may watch, what private messages we may exchange, which cars we may drive.

Which books we can be trusted to read uncensored, what websites we may visit unsupervised, and which topics we may discuss when we meet in a restaurant or pub.

Like the robber barons, carpetbaggers, and asset strippers these Epstein enablers affect to deplore, our rapacious elites are only interested in sucking the wealth, power and virtue out of this nation and heaping it around themselves like smug, gold hoarding Tolkien dragons.

And to what use have they put all this power? What exactly have they achieved?

We are demonstrably poorer. Weaker. Colder. Less free. More miserable. Less trustful. More divided. Less productive. And less confident as a nation than we were thirty, twenty, even ten years ago.

And yet their towering, all encompassing incompetence, is matched only by their vanity, hauteur, and arrogance. Their inabilities by their hubris. Their ignorance by the loudness of their shrill, empty voices.

Unrestrained by uncertainty, self doubt, or humility, they doggedly plod onward, dragging the rest of us headlong into penury, irrelevance, and oblivion.

Regular readers will know I am fearful of revolution.

More than anything, it just shuffles the bosses at the top, while leaving the poor destitute, the hungry starving, and the weak and needy, dead.

And I don’t believe we are inevitably headed to civil war. At least I hope not. Even as some on this side of the aisle seem unfathomably excited at the prospect.

But by god we need to unite, and rid ourselves of these fools.

Before they rid this nation of all we have ever fought for, built, and hold dear.

Before they rid themselves, of us.

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Parties built on the backs of working men transition, seemingly overnight, into ideological playgrounds for an out of touch, gentrified, gender bending elite.

Yesterday’s military heroes are hounded through the courts by a government which states that today its ‘highest priority’, is servicing the needs of foreign activists, who encourage their followers to kill white people, police officers, and Jews.

Weirdo insurgent parties run by gap toothed boob boosters and economically illiterate communists swoop in from nowhere, to gobble up millions of votes.

And the once dependable Conservative Party, burns through useless, clueless Prime Ministers, faster than Bonnie Blue burns through paramours.

It’s an ever shifting political landscape, dynamic, distracting, dizzying, and discombobulating.

But however confusing things get, there is one rock, one absolute, one constant, we can always depend on.

The modern Labour Party’s utter contempt for democracy.

There’s not a ballot it won’t corrupt, a poll it won’t rig, an election it won’t nobble, a boundary it won’t gerrymander, a minority it won’t promote, (apart from you Jews of course!), a child it won’t enfranchise, and an inconvenient, bothersome, result it won’t ignore.

Yet even among these demos disdaining democracy dodgers, no one finds the electorate more odious, gauche, vulgar, superfluous, and repellent, than Sir Keir Starmer.

On the grounds that the British public are too thick, gullible, and racist, to decide their own future, ‘Let Me Be Clear’ Keir has spent the last ten years, working night and day, to overturn the largest popular vote in British history, Brexit.

And fearing that the same insubordinate plebs who refused to cast their ballots as instructed in 2016, might do another wrong-vote, and choose Nigel Farage’s Reform Party to run their local council, he has just seen fit to cancel twenty nine local elections.

Last week it became personal, with Starmer nobbling his own opposition, and blocking ‘King in the North’ Andy Burnham, from running in the Gorton and Denton by(e bye Sir Keir) election.

A vote which could have potentially seen Burnham returning to parliament as an MP, challenging Starmer for leadership of the Labour Party, and even becoming Prime Minister.

Gorton and Denton is up for grabs after sitting Labour MP, Andrew Gwynne, was unceremoniously given the boot stood down with his honour intact, when a parliamentary investigation into his personal What’s App messages revealed he had

‘joked about a local cycling campaigner being “mown down”, suggested that a local vicar be “burned on a bonfire” and made derogatory comments about Angela Rayner and Diane Abbott.’

Maybe Andrew Gwynne should come and try his luck as an Independent in my local constituency.

He certainly sounds like the sort of candidate I could get behind.

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Starmer managed to block Andy Burnham by invoking a deep rooted, long standing, and well established, clause in the Labour rulebook, which states that as elected Mayor of Greater Manchester, Burnham had to ask “express permission” from Labour Party politburo, the NEC before he could run for Parliament.

Oh hang on.

A quick check reveals it is not a deep rooted, long standing, or well established clause, after all.

As I understand it, Sneaky Starmer himself created this new stipulation with the express purpose of stopping Andy Burnham’s leadership bid in its tracks.

And then inserted it in the regulations way back at the beginning of 2026.

So….. about three weeks ago.

People keep telling me that Andy Burnham is a shrewd political operator, but really?

This is basic stuff.

It’s Labour backstabbing, rulebook manipulation, committee stacking, and shifty double dealing, 101.

Falling foul of such an obvious manoeuvre marks Burnham out as a bit of a dunce.

Sure. He’s not as congenitally thick as David Lammy, dense as Jess Phillips, or as witless as Lucy Nando’s, but by falling for such an obvious ruse, he is in danger of placing himself in the same ball park.

The self styled ‘King in The North’ might be trying to convince a restless Labour Party that he’s more Sean Bean, than has-been, but so far he’s only succeeded in coming across as Mr Bean.

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After much backbench grumbling, Starmer himself stepped in to justify the block.

Pointing out that if Burnham won a Commons seat, the taxpayer would be on the hook for a costly vote to elect a brand new Manchester Mayor.

Which would waste precious resources at a time when, for some unaccountable reason, the British economy has been spending more time on its knees, than your average female prison officer.

And for once Sir Keir is 100% correct.

The British public really has got much more important things to spend its money on. Like free hotels, healthcare, and legal fees for our ever growing haul of illegal immigrants.

Or unnecessarily showering Mauritius with £30 bn of our hard earned wages, just so it will agree to take vital British sovereign territory off our hands, and give it to China.

And let’s not forget the expense of buying tearaway teenage terrorist Shamima Begum a first class plane ticket back to Blighty.

Trust me. She’s on her way.

But what of Burnham himself?

The Manchester Mayor claims, with a straight face, that his desperate desire to return to Westminster is not motivated by unquenchable egomania, unshakable self regard, or vainglorious ambition, but is instead prompted by a communitarian desire

‘to prevent the divisive politics of Reform…’

Riiiiiiight Andy…

You’re fighting divisive politics.

By literally ripping your own party apart.

Got it.

Thats like Gary Neville claiming he’s tearing down England flags. To promote patriotism.

(Which if I remember correctly, is exactly what he did claim….)

Even if he made it to Westminster Burnham would have faced another obstacle to any leadership bid. The requirement for a challenger to secure the backing of at least eighty Labour MPs.

Though I expect Burnham’s bid would have been so over subscribed the voting lobby would have resembled an episode of Record Breakers, where Roy Castle tried to find out how many school kids he could squeeze into a telephone box.

And who can blame Labour backbenchers for wanting a change of leader?

Surely anyone would be an improvement on Keir Starmer.

A human PowerPoint presentation with all the personality of a ring road Travelodge.

So it’s no wonder Labour activists are not happy with the NEC’s block, and have written a letter demanding that Prime Minister Starmer does what he does best, and U-turns on his decision.

I won’t quote their heartfelt letter here, it’s far too boring, and you can probably guess what it says.

I only mention it because despite the identities of the signatories being kept private, I have, in a scoop for this Substack, learned the names of some of the leading Labour activists involved.

They include,

Sue Angry. Barry Worker. Dee Sabled. Tracey Nose Ring-Blue Hair. Phoebe Oxbridge. Reg Orgreave. Jen O’Side. Pippa Paements. And Rayne Bowlanyard.

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Burnham might like to play the part of a no nonsense northerner, a salt of the earth outsider, the ultimate Mancunian maverick.

But the reality is that this Scouser is a well connected Cambridge graduate, who spent decades as a Westminster insider.

Rising from special advisor, to become Chief Secretary to the Treasury, and then Health Secretary, under Gordon Brown.

In fact he only stormed off North in a huff when the Labour Party rejected his previous tilt at the leadership. Twice.

Still, when it comes to cos-playing a two dimensional northern stereotype, Andy is 100% authentic.

Asked by the lovely ladies of Mumsnet to name his favourite biscuit, he demurred, then readjusted his trouser ferret, channelled his inner Fred Dibnah, and announced that his parochial culinary preferences stretched no further than,

‘Beer, chips and gravy.’

OK Andy. Calm down.

You do know mate, that there’s such a thing as trying too hard.

I mean your arch rival Angela Rayner (I could be wrong, but I remain super sceptical that wide faced Wes is a genuine contender) doesn’t feel the need to pander to a crude Northern stereotype.

She’s authentically vulgar, profane, and crass.

It oozes from her working class pores, like hangover sweat, the morning after a Bigg Market hen do.

And no, I don’t mean that as a slur. It’s genuinely one of her most appealing features.

Our Ange is the real deal. She even manages to make calling Tories ‘scum’, while dodging paying stamp duty, on one of her three luxury homes, sound authentic.

But credit where it is due.

Burnham seems to have done a pretty good job as Manchester Mayor.

I visit the city occasionally, and sure, it’s got its problems, but overall, it appears to be doing quite well.

Manchester boasts a proud identity, displays an enviable sense of community, enjoys a thriving night life, and has a booming economy.

You can even travel from one side of it to the other on the excellent tram system, (I’ve seen lots of bad reviews, but I will always recommend it over bus, or taxi), without being unduly concerned that you’ll arrive at your destination, plus some stab wounds, and minus you iphone.

It’s basically paradise compared with the post apocalyptic, Snake Plisskin inspired dystopia, of Sadiq Khan’s London.

And let’s not get started on the inner circle of sectarian hell which is the Islamic Caliphate of bin bag Birmingham.

Burnham’s supporters also point to his popularity in the city, emphasising that he is the

‘politician who won every ward in Manchester last time he was up for re-election’

Although let’s be honest, saying Mancunians are fans of Andy Burnham, is a bit like saying that Scots are devotees of Sean Connery.

Or that Scousers are big advocates of the Beatles, Ricky Tomlinson, and telling you what an amazing, unique, sense of humour they’ve got, just before they take instant offence at some innocuous comment, and punch you in the face.

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But let’s remind ourselves why the PLP really wants to get rid of Starmer.

It’s certainly not because he is unpopular. Backbench Labour MPs don’t care what the voters think of their rubbish, misanthropic leaders, any more than they care for our opinions regarding their racist, rotten, nation-wrecking policies.

And it’s not like these sixth form socialists are concerned their leaders are bankrupting Britain. Their main issue is that Starmer isn’t bankrupting us fast enough.

And they’re not complaining that there is too much immigration, in fact they constantly gripe that Starmer has failed to throw open Britain’s borders wide enough.

And you won’t hear them moan that taxes are too high, it is their opinion that greedy British workers are not being taxed nearly enough.

In short, the far left loonies who hold the whip hand of the Parliamentary Labour party see Starmer as a capitalist shill. A far-right Brownshirt.

A gang smasher, immigrant basher, and benefits snatcher.

A blank eyed block on their joyless jihad, their sacred mission, their holy crusade to transform Britain into an equitable, kindly, internationalist, communist nirvana.

Where, for the lucky People’s benefit, safety, wellbeing, and happiness they will grant themselves the irrescindable power to set every wage. Fix every price. Cap every rent. Close every business. Prosecute every soldier. Smear every patriot. Burn every book. Denounce every hero. Define every woman. Outlaw every pleasure. Open every border. Log every thought. Pick every pocket. Censor every film. Ration every freedom. Castrate every child. Rewrite every story. Read every message. Ban every joke. Invade every bathroom. Pillage every asset. Drag Queen every story hour. Plunder every inheritance. Shut every pub. Surveil every street. Bankrupt every landlord. Emasculate every man. Silence every critic. Legalise every crime. Denigrate every history. Promote every perversion. Smother every ambition. And crush every hope.

In short.

Everything in the State, nothing outside the State, nothing against the State.

That’s enough for today.

But before we go, let’s return briefly to Andy Burnham.

Though his battle for the top job might be on hold for now, his quest to wrench the crown from Starmer is far from over.

But life imitates art, and it might be worth noting the fate of that other ‘King in the North’,* the one from long running TV show, Game of Thrones.

A good man, way out his depth, this king was out played, out schemed, and out manoeuvred by a brutal, merciless female rival.

And in the end, she had him decapitated. He didn’t even make it past the first series.

(*I know dweebs. Technically ‘Warden of the North.’)

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A dank and musty former wine cellar beneath Tooley St, just at the southern end of Tower Bridge, which had been transformed into a terrifying subterranean theme park.

Featuring a blood drenched range of macabre exhibits, life-like, gory, waxworks, depicting human sacrifice, dismemberment, crucifixion, burnings, and torture.

If other, more snooty tourist attractions like The Tower of London, and The British Museum, were all BBC, Blue Peter, and Radio 4, then the London Dungeons was ITV, Tiswas, and Viz.

This house of historical horrors was gruesome, grisly, and utterly gratuitous. And the British public, especially its blood-and-guts craving younger members, absolutely loved it.

I still remember the abject terror on the face of one creepily true-to-life mannequin, as I watched it being slowly hung, drawn, and quartered.

It was a look of utter horror, revulsion, and disgust which I would not see again on a human face until thirty five years later, when the BBC’s David Dimbleby was forced to read out the results of the Britain’s Brexit Referendum.

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These days our nation’s most heart stopping, bone shivering, blood curdling, tourist exhibits are no longer to be found languishing mustily beneath South London streets.

Instead they adorn the walls of the revered National Portrait Gallery, in Trafalgar Square.

Which has just slapped trigger warnings on artworks depicting national hero, T.E. Lawrence, better known as Lawrence of Arabia.

With staff instructed to keep a charged-up defibrillator on standby, just in case these harrowing images cause an aneurism among the gallery’s more jittery, anxious visitors.

Not you understand, because the artworks show Lawrence engaged in acts of violence, bloodletting, cruelty, torture, or oppression.

But because he is depicted, flagrantly wearing, the wrong type of hat.

The pinch faced pearl clutchers who police the gallery have

‘flagged as “sensitive” artworks depicting the First World War hero in tribal dress [which] may clash with “today’s attitudes”

But who exactly do they imagine will be offended by these images?

I doubt any Bedouin tribesmen, up The Smoke for a cheeky citybreak, would be shocked or disgusted at the sight of Lawrence dressed in their traditional garb.

After all, they gifted him the outfit in the first place.

And if hordes of visitors from the Middle East do turn up at the National Gallery and find their noses put out of joint.

Then not to worry. We can simply do what we always do in similar situations.

And buy them off with a free house.

But let’s be honest, despite the National Gallery’s po-faced insistence, these aren’t really ‘today’s attitudes’ at all.

They are simply the niche prejudices, mad obsessions, and unwavering shibboleths of an ideologically driven, pathologically censorious, imperious, and high-handed, cadre of bullies, busy bodies, and petty tyrants.

A class of mendacious meddlers which has taken over every single one of our museums, art galleries, and cultural institutions, and turned them each into joyless, theme parks of self flagellation, mirthless instruction, and anti-British loathing.

And besides, what’s the big issue with white people wearing Arab costume?

As far as I can see, ‘tribal dress’, in the form of the keffiyeh, is basically mandatory for any white student attending a modern British university.

And if Arab dress is considered an appropriate form of attire for pink haired undergraduates at Bristol University, studying ‘studying’ post colonial power structures and oppression through the queering lens of body piercing and interpretive Jew hatred, then surely it’s good enough for an actual Arabic warrior, like T.E. Lawrence.

And I also doubt very much whether most normal people give a monkey’s about what sort of headscarf Lawrence of Arabia wore.

Mainly I suspect, because hardly anyone under fifty five has ever heard of him.

For the last few decades our schools have been far too busy instructing our kids that the seas are on fire, that money grows on trees, and that gay children must suffer genital mutilation for their own wellbeing, to waste any time teaching about our revered national heroes some old dead, racist, white guy.

But was Lawrence really a racist?

Trick question.

He’s old, dead, and white. So yes. Of course he was.

The modern charge against Lawrence is that he was a ‘colonialist’.

But that doesn’t seem to be a completely fair assessment.

From what I can tell, T.E. Lawrence spent much of the First World War risking his life fighting alongside the Arabs in their quest to free themselves from their actual colonialist overlords, the Ottoman Empire, and secure for themselves, a sovereign state.

Of course things didn’t go quite as planned, and at the end of the war, Britain (Hurrah!) and France (La Boo!) betrayed both Lawrence, and the Arabs, carving up the Middle East amongst themselves.

And we all know how brilliantly that turned out.

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Still, you’d think the left would be right behind a high ranking member of the British establishment putting the rights of angry, tooled up Muslims before the interests of his own country.

I mean, they didn’t seem too bothered when West Midlands Police, Chief Craig Guildford was recently caught, doing exactly that.

And don’t get me started on King Charles.

Some might counter that if Lawrence wasn’t an out and out colonialist, he was something almost equally as bad, a ‘white saviour’.

Who was perpetrating the false conceit that other cultures need rescuing from themselves by the beneficence of white westerners.

I have much sympathy for this position.

Which is why I’d like modern Britain to stop behaving like we’re a global saviour, providing welfare, benefits, health care, and slush funds, to the entire planet.

Perhaps it’s even time for Britain to call for reparations, and demand back, all those hundreds of billions of pounds in aid money, we’ve spent the last thirty years, showering on foreign despots, international ‘charities’, unaccountable NGOs, and Hamas The UNWRA.

With absolutely no discernible benefit either to the British people paying for it all, or the genuinely poor foreigners, who are supposedly the beneficiaries of our seemingly limitless largesse, but who unaccountably, never seem to get any better off.

Besides, undeveloped, backward, Third World, countries don’t need our help. They are clearly able to stand on their own two feet.

The evidence is right there in front of our eyes.

Just look at the stunning success the locals have made of Wales, and Scotland, since the English left them in charge.

Topping the charts in everything from child illiteracy to shortest life expectancy.

These plucky nations are really showing us who’s boss.

Though unfortunately for the decent, proud, people who live there, that boss is the SNP, and Welsh Labour.

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Director David Lean made his Oscar winning epic, Lawrence of Arabia way back in 1962.

No one would be making a movie like that today.

For two main reasons.

Firstly. Because the self hating sensibilities of modern Britain, would no doubt dictate that the story must be reimagined.

And retold from the point of view of Lawrence’s wise cracking, but oppressed, non-binary camel.

And secondly. Because nowadays no high status member of the current British establishment is actually achieving anything worthy of celebrating on the big screen.

I can’t imagine anyone making a three hour blockbuster immortalising Gary Neville tearing down some England flags, Liz Kendall banning Grok. Or Sir Keir Starmer beating off some Ukrainian arsonists.

Though if it did, I expect Netflix would cast Cynthia Erivo as the lead in all of them.

And it’s not just T.E. Lawrence who has earned himself a trigger warning for having the audacity to pop on some inappropriate head gear.

Lord Byron has received a similar dressing down, for dressing up, like an Albanian.

Whilst in Albania.

As did a portrait of Italian Giovanni Belzoni, (nope), a sculpture of Edward William Lane, (again, I’m drawing a blank), plus

An 1850 portrait of British officer Sir Herbert Benjamin Edwardes [also, a bit sketchy when it comes to Sir Herbie TBH] dressed as an Indian nobleman was also given a warning.

Of course all of these dead white men’s most heinous crimes, at least the ones associated with their manner of dress, are covered by the modern sin of ‘cultural appropriation.’

Which lambasts anyone who dares dress up for fun in nice clothes from round the world for a party steal the cultural artefacts, dress, or customs of oppressed cultures, and pass them off as their own.

Fine.

But if it’s inappropriate for British people to wear Middle Eastern dress then someone should tell the hordes of men forever streaming out of the Islamic Centre at the end of my road, wearing exactly that.

How come these grossly insensitive cultural appropriators get a pass?

Which is all I can assume they are doing, since I am being constantly harangued, browbeaten, and lectured, that they are ‘as British as you or I’.

Maybe someone should stop telling me, and start telling them.

Let’s be honest. The glass eyed mantra that ‘diversity is our strength’ is an explicitly anti British sentiment.

Because logically, if diversity is our strength, then the more of it you have, the stronger you get.

And so conversely, the more diluted, watered down, and diverse, British culture gets, then supposedly, the more potent, coherent, and successful it will become.

The logical conclusion is that at some stage our nation will become so diverse, that there will be no ‘Britishness’ left at all.

And at that point, Britain will become the strongest it has ever been.

This process seems akin to some form of cultural homeopathy.

And just like regular homeopathy, it’s utter nonsense.

(Please don’t bother telling me how amazing homeopathy is in the comments. Unless you are a cash customer, wanting to put down a deposit, on my new line of magic beans.)

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Look. Despite my cynicism, we do of course need to be sensitive to this issue.

We must acknowledge that simply donning another group’s clothes, and outward appearance, does not in any way bestow upon you membership of that group.

Unless of course you are a man dressing up as woman.

In which case, yes, dressing up as an exaggerated, and to many actual women, (and men), deeply offensive, female caricature, does indeed magically, automatically and instantly transform you from a wonky faced pervert, and self deluding nonce, into an actual woman.

Here’s a question.

Why is it only clothes, (or at a stretch, food), that we are accused of stealing from other cultures?

And never their inventions, innovations, or perhaps superior systems of governance?

Well maybe, possibly, perhaps, it’s because for the most part, they haven’t created anything worth nicking. At least not recently.

I mean, thanks for coming up with the whole numbers thing, and that.

But you can’t just keep coasting along on that I’m afraid.

I guess this might be why ‘cultural appropriation’ has become such an exclusively one way street.

It’s fine to condemn white people for wearing Native American dress. But not Native Americans for wearing wristwatches.

It’s OK to decry drunk white students for jauntily popping on a sombrero, but not Mexican shopkeepers for having the audacity to own computers.

It’s fair enough to pillory as insensitive and ignorant, British folk for calling Eskimos ‘Eskimos’, like I’m insensitively and ignorantly doing right now.

But no one is condemning Eskimos for their culturally insensitive use of electricity.

I mean, steady on Arnaaluk, old chap(ped lips) how dare you nick our light bulbs?

If you want to illuminate your igloo, please be respectful of my cultural boundaries, and go slaughter some whales or something, you haughty imperialist.

Sure. My argument is ridiculous, narrow minded, silly, and idiotic. Of course it is.

But in reality it’s no more ridiculous, narrow minded, silly, or idiotic, than condemning Jamie Oliver for the ‘cultural appropriation’ of selling ‘jerk rice.’

In the end ‘cultural appropriation’ is literally a nonsense. An absurdity. Just another stick to beat and bully the compliant, indulgent, and forbearing, white majority.

To make nice people feel guilty, to persuade the tolerant they are bigots, and to make considerate people live in fear.

Making them always worry that they might be just one Halloween costume. One poorly chosen word. One dreadlocked haircut (Actually, I’m with them on the whole ‘white people with dreadlocks’ thing) One karaoke tune. One ranty Substack article, away from being condemned as a racist, a ‘colonialist’, a ‘hater’, and ‘far-right’.

One silly hat away, from being literally Hitler.

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LSO

It’s only the second week of January and already I have great news!

Prime Minister (at time of writing), Keir Starmer, has promised to do the country a solid.

He’s vowed to sack Rachel Reeves, and throw himself off the end of Brighton pier.

I mean, not exactly that, or even vaguely, but I can only assume he’s soon to do both these things, because after yet another hugely successful ‘reset’, which left a triumphant Labour Party surging down to third place in the polls, Starmer has imperiously informed his car crash cabinet,

“I know families across the country are still worried about the cost of living. There will be no let-up in our fight to make life better for them.”

So if Sir Keir really is determined to ‘make life better’ for British families, then the quickest and surest way to achieve that goal, is clearly to follow the prescription above.

Starmer has been out and about in the last few weeks, touring newspaper offices, and TV studios, to nasally make the case for his disastrous government.

At least, I think that was the original intention. But in reality all he has actually done, is reveal exactly how rattled he is, by the threat from Reform.

Piously informing the Observer, (Which is still going apparently. Who knew?)

I’ve never worried about the future of our country under a Tory government. With Reform, I worry about what will happen to our country in terms of tearing our communities apart.”

Of course Starmer is not worried about the country under a Tory government.

Why should he be? There isn’t going to be one.

Ever again.

Kemi Badenoch has about as much chance of winning the next election as Zack Polanski has of boosting Britain’s average cup size, using just the hypnotic power of his mind.

(In all fairness, if he puts it in the manifesto, I will probably vote Green)

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It seems odd for Keir Starmer to spend so much time fretting that Reform will ‘tear our communities apart’ when his own party, along with the equally culpable, inept, and anti-British Tories, have spent the last twenty five years, doing exactly that.

Importing literally millions of people, often from hostile, incompatible, cultures, into our country, in direct defiance of the British people’s repeated and explicit instruction to do the opposite.

Then compounding the resentment this has understandably caused, by not only falsely claiming that these new arrivals ’have always been here’, but asserting that the native culture they are definitely not replacing, honest, is racist, rapacious, and less than worthless.

And then informing us that the sub optimal quality of British natives doesn’t really matter anyway, since it was exclusively the virtuosity, talent, and genius, of charming, benign, and generous immigrants like Paddington Bear, (Not a real person. In fact, not even a real bear) which ‘built this country’ in the first place.

Claiming that another party represents an existential threat to the British way of life is a bit rich coming from a Prime Minister whose government is ‘laser focused’ on sabotaging our energy grid, dismantling our constitution, ignoring our referendums, ‘decolonising’ our history, abandoning, rather than protecting Jews, pretending men are women, locking up people for refusing to pretend that men are women, ending trial by jury, rescinding our free speech rights, taking away our cars, gerrymandering our elections, giving away our treasure, banning our social media, and shutting down our pubs.

It’s a bit like Bonnie Blue, complaining there’s too much sex on TV.

Starmer also tells us he is ‘concerned’ that Reform has ‘no ideas on the economy whatsoever.’

And to be fair, most commentators agree that this is very much the party’s weak spot.

But still, ‘no ideas’ on the economy, is way, way better, than Labour’s ideas on the economy.

Which basically all boil down to,

‘Let’s destroy the economy’.

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Of course one of the progressive left’s favourite charges against Farage is that he is somehow ‘Putin’s puppet’.

A assertion so ridiculous it’s like claiming that a British man born in Britain, in 1964 could somehow grow up to become a member of Germany’s Hitler Youth, which disbanded in Germany, in 1945.

Which is an actual claim made by Britain’s Deputy Prime Minister (I know, I know) David Lammy, whose grasp of history is so tenuous, he once claimed that the Nobel Prize for Physics had been awarded to Marie Antoinette.

(Idiot. Everyone knows she actually got it for Economics)

Sticking to his theme, Starmer has also tried to smear Farage by suggesting that Reform is reluctant to ‘investigate’ how its one-time leader in Wales, Nathan Gill, ended up getting convicted of taking bribes from the Russians.

And again, fair enough, that does seem more than a little suspect.

But it’s maybe a teeny tiny bit massively hypocritical of Keir Starmer to accuse another party leader of ‘blocking an investigation’, when he himself imposed a three line whip on his own MPs to prevent a national inquiry into Labour’s very own ‘grooming gangs’ scandal.

And now that’s he’s been shamed into holding one, thanks in part to the interventions of the world’s richest man Elon Musk (Boo! something something X, something something bikinis, something something toxic masculinity, something something Andrew Tate), seems to be doing everything in his fading power, to nobble that very investigation, marginalise the victims, and fix the results.

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But having said all that, maybe Starmer is justified in his outrage.

After all, Gill did accept a £40,000 bribe from a dodgy Russian businessman, to do his bidding in the EU parliament. And rightly received a ten year sentence for his treachery.

Though that does make you wonder what sort of sentence Starmer himself will receive, when, under Britain’s fair, one tier justice system, he inevitably appears in court charged with accepting a £32,000 bribe in kind, from dodgy British businessman Wahid Alli, to presumably, do his bidding in Westminster.

I’m joking of course.

(Yes lawyers!! This is definitely a joke!! And is clearly labelled as such!)

It was all very different in Starmer’s case.

For some reason I simply can’t fathom.

Starmer himself hardly makes a very convincing patriot.

Not only is he happy to shower our nation’s enemies with billions upon billions of pounds of British taxpayers’ money, on the proviso they take strategically important overseas territories off our hands, and give them to China.

And then lie about it to parliament.

But Starmer is also obsessed with his ongoing, personal jihad to overthrow democracy, and force Britain back into the smothering, ossifying embrace of the sclerotic EU.

An antagonistic, hostile, colonialist, foreign power, which seeks, with quisling Starmer’s eager assistance, to once again, dictate our laws, siphon away our cash, puppet our politicians, stifle our industries, flood us with ‘asylum seekers’, influence our elections, and nick all our fish.

Starmer is keen to contrast Farage’s invented Russophile tendencies, with his own steadfast defiance of Germany’s trusted energy supplier monstrous Russian demagogue, Vladimir Putin.

Proudly boasting how he has shackled our make nothing, own nothing, build nothing, defend nothing country, to a ‘coalition of the willing’, ready to stand steadfast against the Russian bear.

But instead of making him look tough, determined and statesmanlike, his po-faced posturing, like that of pompous pompadour Emmanuel Macron, merely comes across as self satisfied, vainglorious, and simply embarrassing.

I wholeheartedly support the right of Ukraine, a sovereign, independent country, to defend its borders, people, and interests, but when I see Starmer, Macron, and Zelensky together at a press conference, they seem less like three world leaders, resolutely defying tyranny. And more like the fading members of a D-list boyband, say 911, or Blazin’ Squad, (apologies to any members of 911, or Blazin’ Squad reading this), teaming up, to announce a comeback tour.

This might be a ‘coalition of the willing’.

But it is certainly not a coalition of the able.

The reality is that none of the once great European powers, France, England, or, OK then, Germany, are even capable of policing their own borders, let alone defending an entire continent.

Having squandered their riches on decades of increasingly bloated entitlements, aid budgets, benefits, and social programmes.

Increasingly these eye wateringly expensive welfare programmes aren’t even for the benefit of their own peoples, but are showered on anyone from anywhere in the world who simply turns up on their shores.

This largesse has forced our European leaders to cower behind American aprons, and rely on its munificence to protect their actual citizens, from belligerent actors in their own back yard.

This might have been a workable tactic when the White House was occupied by fellow invertebrates like Barak Obama, and Joe Biden’s auto-pen, but is less of a winning strategy now that Pennsylvania Avenue is home to an America First nationalist, like Donald Trump.

Who, for some unaccountable reason, seems far more interested in events in Caracas, Venezuela (2,125 miles from Washington DC), than those happening in Kiev, Ukraine. ( 5,857 miles from Washington DC).

Of course his impotence does not prevent Starmer stomping around the world stage like Billy Big Boots, boasting during his Economist interview that he is

‘drawing up plans [to] help and defend the peace in Ukraine’.

What does he mean by ‘drawing up plans’?

I’m currently ‘drawing up plans’ to get snowed in for two weeks, in a Swiss skiing chalet, with Sydney Sweeney.

That doesn’t mean it’s going to happen.

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This might be unfair, but it does seem, that on some level, Starmer and Macron (along with sour faced EU matriarch Ursula Von der Leyen, of course) are prepared to let the bloodshed continue a little longer, as long they get to maintain the farce that they have a role in formulating its conclusion.

Jumped-up jingoist, Keir Starmer might claim that Britain will

‘make a significant contribution to the defence of Ukraine and the defeat of Vladimir Putin’.

But it’s obvious that Britain lacks the resources to make any meaningful intervention in this conflict.

As I’ve noted many times before, there are now more people in British jails than there are men in the British army, and about one and a half times as many ‘asylum seekers’ siphoning away the resources of this country, than there are soldiers defending them.

Sabre-rattling saddo Starmer talks about ‘boots on the ground’ (a phrase I detest only slightly less than ‘broadest shoulders’. These aren’t ‘boots’ you are playing with Sir Keir, these are young men’s lives), yet any troops he does manage to send to Ukraine will be few in number, ill equipped, and backed up by nothing but thin air.

And now warmongering weirdo, Sir Keir is even talking about sending British troops to protect Greenland.

Whether from Russia, or the Americans, he doesn’t say.

Right now, the most clear and present danger facing our ‘hollowed out’ armed forces comes not from the Russians, but from a fifth column of anti-British human rights lawyers, headed by Starmer’s own Attorney General, Lord Hermer.

Since Starmer’s old pal, and legal representative of both Gerry Adams, and Shamima Begum, seems intent on rewarding British veterans who fought for King and Country by besmirching their reputations, handing their social housing to ‘refugees’, and prosecuting them for war crimes.

Finally, Starmer’s most damning charge against Reform is that they are ‘populists’.

Of course relentlessly smearing people, like me, who believe in actually honouring the results of elections, and referendums, as ‘populists,’ allows our ruling elites an excuse, (as if they ever needed one) to dismiss the concerns, wants, aspirations, preoccupations, traditions, and culture, of normal, hard working, patriotic, Britons (wherever they were originally from), as irrelevant, bovine, vulgar, bigoted, and yes, of course, ‘far-right’.

Just like their increasingly shrill assertion that free speech rights should only be extended to those who agree with them, the Guardianistas believe that the riff-raff should only be permitted to vote for politicians and policies, of which they themselves approve.

That’s if we are to be permitted to vote at all.

We have discovered this week our anti-democratic Labour government is inviting even more Labour councils to cancel elections in areas where Reform is currently topping the polls.

With Communities Secretary Steve Reed (a key Starmer loyalist btw) offering sixty three areas the ‘opportunity‘ to deny Reform the chance to win delay their elections so that they may ‘concentrate on local government reorganisation’.

A ‘reorganisation’ which, from what I can tell, mainly entails gerrymandering constituency boundaries, denying Farage momentum, and switching from a British voting system where Reform is likely to win, to adopting a more European one (who’d have thought it?!?) where Reform is more likely to lose.

Our far-left progressive overlords can pretend they are attacking Reform’s economic policies, or are worried about ‘Russian interference,’ they can throw around insults and slurs about ‘populists’, and conjure up urgent excuses to redraw the electoral map to their own advantage.

But it’s obvious that the main reason that they are running scared of the Reform project, is that it might actually be the first political movement, since our abortive Brexit, to genuinely threaten the primacy of the liberal, globalist, uni-party consensus which has misgoverned, impoverished, and enshittified Great Britain, since back when we first heard the name ‘Tony Blair’.

It’s a project which might conceivably usher in a government which actually puts the needs of regular law abiding, tax paying British citizens above those of foreigners, far left activists, international bodies, grievance grifters, kiddie fiddling creeps, Whitehall mandarins, Islamists, EU stooges, joyless censors, environmental rent seekers, and human rights lawyers.

And understandably, that terrifies them.

Whatever you think of Nigel Farage, (and despite what you might assume after reading this piece, I do remain a bit of sceptic), if there’s even a 5% chance that he can actually make any of this happen, then that alone seems reason enough to vote for him.

Plus of course, Sir Keir Starmer clearly hates, detests, and fears him, and honestly, that’s probably good enough for me.

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LSO

Perhaps this will not strike you as the greatest of insights, but stick with me, because the more you consider him, the odder he gets.

The British Prime Minister is a mess of contradictions.

He is a member of the managerial class who simply can’t manage. A leader with no discernible leadership skills.

Starmer is a politician, but he plainly hates politics. Which he obviously finds grubby, underhand, and frankly beneath him.

Instead he is a lawyer, a barrister who can recite every precedent, but has no sense of justice.

A stickler for the rules who is busily tearing up the Britain’s organic, living constitution, replacing it with something sterile, procedural, and anti-democratic.

Starmer is a ruthless authoritarian, who seems desperate to amass power, but only so he can offload as much of it as possible to foreign institutions, international bodies, and most importantly, the EU.

And while he claims to be ‘laser focused’ on expanding the British economy, every single one of his tone deaf government’s economic policies has the same effect on growth, as me imaging Yvette Cooper in a bikini.

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Since he first lurched, unloved, into Downing Street in July 2024, we have all wondered the same thing.

Who exactly is this glass eyed boobie? What does he really want? What actually motivates him?

Well finally, eighteen months later, we have finally got our answer.

Because according to Starmer himself, his government’s primary focus, its core objective, number one goal and ‘top priority’ has been to import into the country, a murder loving foreign dissident who hates Britain, considers its people ‘dogs and monkeys’, and wishes all the white ones, and especially the Jewish ones, dead.

Last week, the British Prime Minister, along with hollow headed Justice Secretary David Lammy, and Foreign Secretary Yvette Cooper, all posted on social media how ‘delighted’ they were that Egyptian racist Alaa Abd el-Fattah had ‘returned’ to the country.

I put ‘returned’ in quotes because Alaa Abd el-Fattah is not British. In fact in his own words he’s ’far from British’.

He’s actually an Egyptian activist who was granted British citizenship by the Conservatives back in 2021. On the grounds that they are stupid, and hold this country in only marginally less contempt, than their co-conspirators in idiocy, the Labour Party.

But how did Abd el-Fattah manage to trick British officials into granting him citizenship in the first place?

You’d think that with his social media profile, Alaa’s hatred of Britain, antipathy towards its people, and desire to murder Jews, might have been easy to spot.

I mean, let’s be honest, even his first name’s a bit of a giveaway.

But no.

It turns out that when applying for citizenship, Abd el-Fattah was not subject to a ‘good character’ test, because the British Supreme Court had ruled that such a test would be incompatible with the ECHR. On the grounds that it could potentially be discriminatory, against absolute arseholes, like Mr Abd el-Fattah.

Christ we are idiots.

Back in June of 2025, then Foreign Secretary David Lammy informed a toothless Commons that

“This case has been a top priority every week that I have been in office. At every single level – Prime Minister, Foreign Secretary, minister, national security adviser – we are engaged with the Egyptians.”

So tough luck NHS, no dice cost of living crisis, hard cheese pot holes, you’ll all have to wait your turn.

Because for the majority of last year, ‘every single level’ of government was laser focused on the things that really mattered, securing the release of this whitey despising Egyptian, from a Cairo prison.

Abd el-Fattah spent six years behind bars for posting ‘fake news’ on Facebook which makes it more than a little strange that Starmer would take up his cause.

Since, after destroying the economy, and clumsily fomenting the first English civil war for four hundred years, locking up people for social media posts seems to be the main purpose of his government.

And if Starmer had really wanted Abd el-Fattah out of jail, I don’t understand why he didn’t just put Shabana Mahmood on the job. After all, when it comes ensuring that violent, unpleasant criminals are released early from prison, she’s the absolute expert.

Starmer is now claiming he did not know about Abd el-Fattah’s tweets, but frankly that beggars belief.

Even the usually incurious British press (Ukrainian rent boys burning down the Prime Minister’s house anyone? Might be worth a little nose around? A quick sniff about? Could be a story here maybe? No. No, of course not), managed to momentarily drag itself away from asking Nigel Farage which chapter of the Hitler Youth he attended when he was six, to check Abd el-Fattah’s social media history.

A task seemingly beyond the power of the Home Office, Immigration officials, police, or British security services.

(In fairness, the police were probably unable to check on Abd el-Fattah’s social media posts, because they were far too busy, checking up on yours.)

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This row comes a bad time for Keir Starmer.

He is currently trying to convince voters that his government is finally ready to address Britain’s immigration crisis, with Home Secretary Shabana Mahmood proudly unveiling a raft of new rules designed to tackle the issue.

And on the surface, her new directives certainly do seem tough and uncompromising.

They have certainly got the legions of loony left Labour backbenchers’, rainbow lanyards in a twist.

Which, let’s be honest, was kind of the point.

The idea being to create enough of a stink about the Home Secretary’s ‘muscular’ new regime to persuade erstwhile Labour voters in the Red Wall, that her party is finally doing something robust and meaningful to curb both legal, and illegal immigration.

Spoiler Alert: It isn’t.

If you look beyond the harsh rhetoric, the sweary, performative Commons appearances and the mainstream’s supportive headlines, it is pretty clear that Shabana Mahmood’s interventions won’t reduce our catastrophically high level of immigration one jot.

If anything they will just increase it.

Mahmood has announced that instead of having to wait five years for Indefinite Leave To Remain, asylum seekers will now have to wait twenty.

Which, since twenty is a bigger number than five, actually means ‘asylum seekers’ get an extra fifteen years living in the country on benefits, than they did under the old system.

Seems a bit harsh. However will they cope?

Labour is also promising to ‘clear the backlog’ of asylum claims.

But we all know what this means. It means that all, literally all of them, will quietly be waved through, and granted permanent leave to remain, if not actual British citizenship.

This will, of course, be presented as efficiency, streamlining, or some kind of administrative triumph.

And if that wasn’t enough, a recent article in the Telegraph outlining this supposedly barbarous new regime, ends by explaining how Shabana Mahmood

‘has also announced that the Government will create new “safe and legal routes” for genuine refugees to come to the UK.’

This is key to the whole issue. The idea isn’t to stop the tsunami of illegal immigrants flooding into the country.

The plan is to keep letting them in, but to do it in such a way that it is largely hidden from British voters.

The one single advantage of dozens of dinghies full of scowl faced foreign soldiers arriving on our shores every day, is that at least we can see them. At least we can count them. And at least we can bear witness with our own eyes, to exactly who is coming.

Under the ‘safe routes’ scheme you can absolutely guarantee that the origin, numbers and background of the ‘refugees’ flowing into the country will be concealed from the public behind an obfuscating smokescreen of bureaucracy, data protection regulations, ‘human rights’ laws, and privacy legalisation.

The closer you look at Mahmood’s new proposals the more you can see that they basically boil down to this; everyone gets to stay, there are even more ways to enter, and no one gets deported.

But maybe I’m wrong about all this. Maybe I’m just a bigoted bigoty bigot, doing bigotry. Picking on innocent refugees, and victim blaming the marginalised and downtrodden.

Well, luckily for me Fillippo Grandi, currently the UN’s High Commissioner for Refugees, has popped up on Radio 4’s Today programme, to lecture me about my terrible attitudes, unacceptable views, and wrong opinions.

Last week the BBC’s flagship news programme was being guest edited by Cate Blanchett. The Australian actress most famous for being a bit like Tilda Swinton.

Having Cate Blanchett guest edit the Today program makes about as much sense as drafting in Bonnie Blue to edit the Catholic Herald.

What next? Crocodile Dundee presenting World At One? Kylie Minogue hosting Farming Today? The ghost of Rolf Harris fronting Woman’s Hour?

And no one, least of all Ms Blanchett herself, could see the irony of having an Australian actress lecturing Brits on why they are wrong to claim immigrants are coming over here stealing our jobs, while she was literally coming over here, and stealing someone’s job.

After all, it’s not like Britain is short of a home grown, self satisfied, lady luvvie or two.

But maybe Emma Thompson was unavailable, too busy, jetting off around the world, to patronise the dirty proles about the forthcoming climate apocalypse.

Perhaps Dawn -[does baby voice] ‘a bad fing happened’-French was hard at work, ridiculing dead Jews.

And no doubt the insufferable Olivia Colman was off somewhere, lecturing white teenage boys about toxic masculinity, or otherwise occupied, getting right up my nose, to make herself available.

Anyhoo.

Back to the point.

Mr Grandi, who has never ever had a job outside of the UN, earns a basic salary of £227,400 pa, and lives in that festering powder keg of racial and cultural tension that is Geneva in Switzerland, demands that Britain opens its borders and creates ‘migrant channels for those who aren’t actually refugees but are simply looking for ‘better opportunities’.

Well great news Fillippo!

Such a channel already exists.

It’s called the English Channel. And every day it’s full of people, who aren’t actually refugees but are just men looking to improve their lives, with ‘better opportunities’.

The problem with this ‘better opportunities’ argument, a favourite of progressives everywhere, is twofold.

One. Why is it incumbent on me to provide a ‘better life’ for some Albanian Crime Lord, Somali pirate, or Eritrean drug dealer?

I am not responsible for these people. I am not beholden to these people. And please excuse me if I come across as the worst human being since (checks notes for this week’s Emmanuel Goldstein), David Walliams, but I don’t care about these people.

And secondly. If your criteria for accepting migrants into your country is that they must be wanting a ‘better life’ then you are literally opening your borders to the entire world.

There is not a human being on the planet who doesn’t want to make their life better.

I expect even Elon Musk has got some ideas about how to make his own rubbish life, a tiny bit less shitty.

We all want to improve our lives.

And the thing is, according to most polls, the majority of British people believe their lives would be immeasurably improved if the government didn’t spend half their wages on housing illegal immigrants, half its manpower installing diversity barriers outside every market, festival, bridge, carnival and village fete, and half its energies extolling us not to ‘look back in anger’ every time some Islamist lunatic runs amok with kitchen knife.

Fillippo Ghandi wasn’t the only open borders do gooder clogging up our airwaves over Christmas.

The BBC, (who else?) played host to Mary Anne Stephenson, the progressive elite’s hot new girl boss, who Sir Keir has personally appointed as Chairman of the Equality and Human Rights Commission.

Of course, Dr Stephenson hasn’t just appeared out of the blue. She has form.

The Telegraph explains that

Before her appointment, Dr Stephenson previously lobbied the Government to abandon its “smash the gangs” policy and allow more asylum seekers into the country, comparing criticism of refugees to “hostile politics, racist rhetoric and demonising language of the past”.

Look, maybe Mary Anne Stephenson will do a good job. She seems refreshingly robust on the trans issue. At least in the need to respect the Supreme Court Judgement that men and women are, (trigger warning) different.

But if Starmer is really serious about tackling Britain’s all consuming migrant crisis then surely he can find someone for the role who doesn’t, like every other Labour appointee in history, seem to default to putting the needs of foreign migrants, foreign crooks, rapists, child molesters and Egyptian dissidents above the needs of the British people.

That’s enough for today. But let’s briefly return to Mr Abd el-Fattah one last time.

Now he’s finally here. The question is what is the Starmer government going to do with him?

It can’t deport him, imprison him, or disown him.

So what’s to be done?

Well in best progressive tradition, the more useless you are, the higher you get promoted. Right Ursula?

So maybe we can find an answer to this conundrum in Alaa Abd el-Fattah’s own Tweets.

To recap:

Alaa Abd el-Fattah has posted that he considers British people to be little more than ‘dogs and monkeys’, he hates ‘colonialists’, despises Jews, and says he is ‘proud to be racist against whites’.

So may I humbly suggest that by simply adding the above information to the ‘About Me’ section of his CV, Mr Abd el-Fattah would make himself the ideal candidate, the perfect choice, and an absolute a shoo in, for the currently vacant job, of Director General of the BBC.

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Thank you for reading Low Status Opinions.

I hope you have had a lovely Christmas. As I said in the email header, I hadn’t intended to write a post this week. But this story was so good it made me pick up my keyboard early, and so here we are.

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That’s it for 2025. For real this time.

Happy New Year!!

Just three months ago I wrote a piece noting that Starmer’s gormless government was languishing at a pathetic 20% in the polls.

Now I’ve seen one outlier poll where it sits at 14%.

Right now, Labour’s support on the ground is thinner than Ariana Grande.

Currently topping the polls by a wide margin is Reform. On 31%.

With numbers like these, many believe a Reform victory at the next ballot is an inevitably. I’m not so sure.

A lot of potential voters, me included, have been drawn to Reform primarily because it is neither Labour, nor the Tories. We’re done with that failed duopoly.

There’s no way I’d vote for a Labour Party which remains under the management of these far-left, liberty loathing loons. And the ‘talk right-lurch left’ Tories have let me down one time too many.

And when I say ‘one time too many’, I mean ten times too many.

So it doesn’t leave a lot of other places to go.

But as Labour is fast finding out, votes based on who you are not, rather than who you are, can be both ephemeral, and fleeting.

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Of course so far, Reform’s main selling point, and sure, some sceptics would say only selling point, has been its stance on the existential disaster of Britain’s ongoing immigration calamity. This is not a hot take.

Party leader Nigel Farage is obviously well aware of this, which is why he is attempting to broaden his party’s appeal. The defection from the Tories of some of their smartest thinkers, (no not you Nadine) people like Bonnie Blue fan Danny Kruger, certainly helps. But ultimately Reform is still seen as a single issue party. Because, for now at least, it is one.

If Labour can get a grip on immigration, or more likely, manages to spin its latest nonsense, that by extending the amount of time ‘refugees’ (from war torn France) must remain in Britain, living on benefits, from 5 years to 20 years, before they are entitled to claim permanent residence, and then spend the rest of their lives in Britain, living on benefits, as some kind of a win, then Reform’s appeal will begin to dip. Sorry. But it will.

And our captured, partisan news media are doing a pretty good job of playing along, making a concerted effort to ensure that happens.

Theatrically reaching for the smelling salts at the brutality of Shabana Mahmood’s never-ever-going-to-happen reforms, as it recasts our latest ineffective Home Secretary (500 illegal immigrants entered Britain by rubber dinghy just this Saturday! 500 on one Day! In December!) as some kind of no-compromise, tough as nails, latter day Boudicca.

Sorry, I know everyone is talking up Mahmood at the moment, but I remain unconvinced by a politician who, as Justice Secretary, let actual rapists out of prison early, just so she could free up cell space for speech criminals like Lucy Connolly.

But the thing is, most voters who are abandoning Labour aren’t going to Reform.

Most are racing off in the other direction. Towards an increasingly unhinged even further left, far-left.

They are flocking to the Lib Dems. The panto party lead by the clown prince of British politics, Ed Davey. Still, let’s not knock him. I’m told his Party Election Broadcasts are incredibly popular on CBeebies.

They are joining the always entertaining Your Party. The only party with two heads, but no brains.

Still, at least when he’s in a meeting with Zarah Sultana, Jeremy Corbyn gets to experience, for the first time in his life, what it’s like to be the smartest person in the room.

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And of course there’s a new madman on the block. The nut job nonsense Greens are surging in popularity, especially among young women, under bonkers boob booster, Zack Polanski. (Actual name David Paulden)

Privately educated socialist, (is there any other kind these days?) Dave, recently revealed his own imperious prejudices, explaining on BBC Question Time (the biggest ‘question’ being, if Ofcom really does care about ‘impartiality’, why wasn’t this show taken off air years ago?), that it is the lot of lowly immigrants to ‘wipe the bums’ of posh people like him.

Despite the extremism of these far left challenger parties, the Guardian classes seem very relaxed at the Pol Pot-isation of British politics.

Of course. They only find populism objectionable when it’s the right wing variety.

And I expect many Labour backbenchers are sanguine about losing votes to the left.

They know that even if Labour can’t win outright next time. There’s a good chance that a hung parliament would lead to a Labour led far-left coalition of lunatics, tit ticklers, Hamas cheerleaders, and postie persecutors.

And that would suit them just fine.

The embarrassingly ambitious Wes Streeting is already on manoeuvres, attempting to form a ‘pact’ with property tycoon Angela Rayner. Offering her a return to cabinet if she backs him for the top job.

But Our Ange would never countenance being the junior partner in this dodgy double act.

She’ll ride Streeting like a broken pit pony, and then, when he has outlived his usefulness, consign him to the knackers yard without a backward glance, while taking the crown for herself.

As Farage himself says, ‘at least she’s a human being’.

A low bar maybe. But a definite upgrade on Starmer and Reeves.

But don’t write off Sir Keir quite yet. He fought hard to get to No 10, and unless you’re a hot Ukrainian lad, he won’t go down easily.

This week Starmer defended his record, trumpeting how

“We’ve concentrated on the single most important issue for families up and down the country, which is the cost of living.”

And fair enough, Starmer and sidekick, phoney finances faker Rachel Reeves, have spent this last year laser focused on the cost of living.

And after a lot of hard work, have finally managed to raise it to its highest level ever.

Iron Chancellor Reeves has even been prepared to make up an entire fantasy ‘black hole’ of pretend nonsense, just to give herself an excuse to put up people’s taxes, steal more of their wages, and increase their shopping bills.

Now that’s dedication.

With Reeves busily getting on with the important job of destroying Britain’s economy, the Prime Minster has been freed up, to get back to doing what he does best.

Plotting the overturn of Brexit.

I can’t help thinking that if Starmer (along with the rest of the ‘establishment’ to be honest) had spent the last seventeen months addressing the actual priorities of British voters, with half the zeal, passion, and energy that he has displayed, trying to annul the votes they cast ten years ago, in the EU Referendum, then he could have conceivably saved the NHS, and solved the migrant crisis by now.

And it has always struck me as odd that the same ideologues who devote half their lives to obsessively ‘decolonising’ everything from our greatest museums, to boil in the bag rice, are the very same ones who spend the other half, plotting, scheming, and conspiring to take Britain back into the most imperious, undemocratic, and expansionist empire building project of them all, the failing EU.

The Americans have just released a security report detailing how if it continues on its current trajectory, Europe will cease to exist within 20 years.

Not because of climate change, or war with Putin, or some other outside apocalypse, but thanks to the short sighted, civilisation destroying, suicidal policies of its own idiot leaders.

This is the failing European project which Starmer is so desperate for Britain to rejoin.

No thanks.

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Of course the only thing better than annulling our wrongvotes after they have been made, is preventing us from casting them in the first place.

Labour has just announced it is ‘postponing’ four mayoral elections which were due to take place next year. In Essex, Hampshire and the Solent, Sussex and Brighton, and Norfolk and Suffolk

And just like in February, when Labour last cancelled a bunch of local elections, these were all due to be held in constituencies where, for the most part, Reform was leading the polls.

What are the chances?

Reform leader Nigel Farage has taken time out from being remorselessly smeared on the BBC for something he might or might not have said fifty years ago, when he was ten, to announce he is taking the government to court over these cancelled elections.

Good luck with that. As I said in a Note, it’s depressing that my first reaction to this news wasn’t

’Good. This genuine affront to democracy must be challenged in the courts.’

But rather.

‘This is a waste of time, the court system is so captured it will undoubtedly find against Reform, and in favour of an increasingly anti-democratic, extreme far left, Labour government.’

Because it’s not just Nigel who can expect to get shafted in the courts. We all can.

Justice Secretary David Lammy, a politician with all the intellectual horse power of a Shetland pony, and Britain’s literal court jester, has set about turbo charging Labour’s two tier justice system.

He plans on abolishing jury trials for all but the most serious crimes, dismissing them as a mere ‘tradition’.

It seems that Lammy is putting our nine hundred year old right not to be thrown into prison without due process, on a par with much loved British customs, like watching a Bond film on Boxing Day, collecting Penny for the Guy, and putting your phone on speed dial at 8am in the morning in a desperate attempt to get a GP appointment.

Lammy claims the government only wants to abolish jury trials to make the courts more ‘efficient’.

And for once he’s right. These changes will make the court system much more efficient. At locking you up in prison for expressing an opinion Kier Starmer doesn’t like.

And it’s not just our criminal courts which the progressive elites hold in contempt.

Despite this year’s Supreme Court ruling on sex based rights, the Cass Report, and the WPATH files scandal, destructive transgender lunacy keeps creeping back into our lives, like a monster that comes back to life at the end of a horror movie.

This week we discovered one reason those NHS waiting lists remain so stubbornly high.

The health service is spending £11m, enough for over one thousand hip replacements, on a puberty blockers ‘trial’, just to extra, double, triple check if chemically castrating little children does them any harm or not.

I dunno. It’s a tricky one.

The only puberty blockers trial I want to see, is the trial of the people handing them out to minors.

These drugs were placed under an indefinite UK wide ban last year after widely respected paediatrician Hilary Cass looked at them scientifically, considered the costs and benefits, weighed up the long term psychological impacts, and concluded, that their use on children was

‘fucking evil, creepy, weird, mental, and wrong’.

OK. I’m paraphrasing. I don’t have the actual Cass Report to hand. But I’m pretty sure that was the gist of it.

But not to worry. In regards to the trial, wide faced weasel, Health Secretary Wes Streeting, promises that

‘I will always follow expert scientific advice to get us there. That’s the only responsible way to resolve this contentious issue and protect vulnerable children.’

No Wes. Don’t give us that ‘we’re just following the science’ nonsense. We know how that worked out for us last time.

In reality ‘the only responsible way to resolve this contentious issue’ is to immediately stop letting mad scientists perform experiments on the genitals of distressed and vulnerable children.

And you actually want to be prime minister.

I wouldn’t trust you with a petting zoo.

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It seems obvious that people with underdeveloped brains should never be allowed to make such big decisions as these.

Which is why children should not be empowered to chop off their own genitals. And David Lammy should not be allowed to abolish jury trials.

Or in Lammy’s case, be allowed to roam unsupervised outside of the sandpit, and wet play area.

That’s enough for now. But before we go let’s return briefly to our embattled Prime Minister.

Starmer rounded on his critics this week claiming that scepticism had dogged his entire leadership, saying that

‘Now, seventeen months into a five-year Labour term, they [the sceptics] say: ‘You’re not able to change the country’.

But as ever, Starmer misses the point. Literally no one is claiming he hasn’t changed the country.

He has. He’s demonstrably changed it for the worse.

He’s made its people significantly poorer today, than they were yesterday, and ensured their children and grandchildren will grow up more indebted, tomorrow.

He’s made the British nation physically smaller, while making the overbearing, authoritarian state, significantly larger.

He has introduced a venal, spiteful and partisan two tier justice system, increasing our laws, and decreasing our freedoms.

He has boasted about Britain’s tradition of free speech in the Oval Office, while his government has set out to systematically dismantle Briton’s free speech rights, from the Home Office.

And he has made the country more divided, tribal, angry, and sectarian. Its diverse people only united on one solitary issue, their contempt for his government, his party, and his leadership.

For many British people of my generation, Starmer’s Britain resembles less and less the proud, decent, unique nation we grew up in. And more and more like the third world countries we used to collect bottle tops for, on kids TV shows.

If he can do that in seventeen months, God help us for the next three and a half years.

Could an Angela Rayner led coalition of calamity really be worse than this?

The tragedy is, with tactical voting, gerrymandered and cancelled elections, a partisan and biased media, a captured court system, a divided right, and the increasingly hysterical smearing of Reform Party leader Nigel Farage, there’s a fair chance, we might well find out.

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This will be, I expect, my last long article until next year. I need to have a bit of a break to be honest. I only post once every couple of weeks but I work hard on these newsletters and I need to give myself a little rest. (I know Boohoo! me)

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