Solstice 2017


It begins as towers burn.
A Solstice morning thunderstorm.
Raven, spider, moth and skull.
The wax begins to wane.


Replace with hat the pompous crown
and ring the ritual curtain down.
Killer, monarch, Doctor, Gull.
The last act of your reign.



Eminences undermined,
witness we the undersigned:
outcast, outwith, unconfined.
It’s happening again.


Theresa May is not autistic. She’s a sadist.


Theresa May is not autistic, as I understand some are saying. The truth is worse.

Theresa May is a sadist. Look at the microexpression that crosses her face when she sees how upset BBC journalist Emily Maitlis is by the Grenfell Tower tragedy. She clearly WANTS to smile, but represses it.

Sadism and bullying defined May’s time at the Home Office. Sadism in the treatment of LGBT asylum-seekers, in the brutal and underhanded immigration raids, in the detention of vulnerable refugee women in the Yarl’s Wood rape camp and trans women in male prisons where they were persecuted so intensely they took their own lives. In the glee she took in threatening to rip up the Human Rights Act.


Theresa May is not autistic. What she is is a sadist who can only mask her genuine pleasure in the pain of other people with the most robotic, tedious, rote circumlocutions.

The Home Office is a good place to hide a sadist in a cabinet. But a sadist as Prime Minister is too exposed. She has to go.





for Derek Jarman, England’s dreamer 

White is not white. White is not pink
or Caucasian. White is the colour
which comes before colour, white
is all colours when seen through a prism.
Through prism see spectrum.
Through glass spectral vision.
Refuse the white prison.


A spectre is more than your white superstition.

If it’s good for the goose…

FB_IMG_1495269000008Protector of rapists in privileged places.
Supplier, through Saudis, of weapons to ISIS.
Our Lady Theresa of Tory tax havens,
and relieving your grandmother of her life savings,
and tipping the wink to electoral fraud
while funnelling funds to her husband offshore,
and letting toffs off as they rip apart foxes
still wants you to stick your cross in Tory boxes.
So this Thursday, don’t let her make you a mug:
vote this villain evicted, and then LOCK HER UP!


Theresa May Thinks Like a Rapist


Another day, another low, as our unelected Prime Minister, reeling from her humiliation in a much-vaunted TV debate, invites us to imagine her increasingly charismatic and popular opponent naked. Yet the true unveiling is not that of Jeremy Corbyn’s dad bod, but the stripping away of the last shred of the pretense that Theresa May is anything other than a deeply twisted human being. Because this bizarre episode in an unrelentingly weird campaign gives us an insight into the way Theresay May thinks, and it isn’t pretty. Because Theresa May thinks like a rapist.

What politician, in normal times, has ever evoked such a disturbing, prurient image of their opponent? Even in the low, dishonest years leading up to the 2010 election, as media trolls gleefully queued up to engage in the disability bullying of Gordon Brown, David Cameron didn’t stoop to asking us to picture the nude body of the former Chancellor. And while the Tories’ bizarre 1997 campaign may have submitted for our approval the contention that Tony Blair was an actual demonwe were not enjoined to envision ourselves making the beast with two backs with TB. However hungry for power these people may have been, however much they may have hated and wished to smear and damage their opponents, they recognised that there were some boundaries you do not cross. And yet Theresa May, lashing out with the vicious bitterness that has characterised so much of her laughable campaign, gleefully violates that boundary.



This, the deliberate violation of boundaries, is how rapists and abusers operate. They push boundaries to see how far you’ll push back, to see what they can get away with. They get off on the feeling of having violated your autonomy, your consent, your integrity.

A couple of years ago, a friends’ rapist followed me on Facebook. The rapist knew that I knew what they’d done, knew that I knew about the rape, and knew I’d feel sickened to see their name pop up in my follower list. They probably also knew I’d block them pretty much immediately, but they did it anyway because the goal wasn’t to find out what I was up to, the goal was to violate one of my boundaries.

We see this same dynamic of gleeful boundary violation when May’s soulmate Donald Trump boasts about grabbing women by the pussy, or muses salaciously on the menstrual cycle of a female critic. The goal is not simply to boast or humiliate, but to test, and to violate, boundaries. I, a rich man, am telling you I sexually assault women: your chummy laughter tells me you will defer to me, that you will submit and connive with me, that I define the boundaries between us, and not you. I, a man, am talking about blood coming out of one of your intimate orifices: the media’s fixation on and gleeful repetition of my remarks tells you there are no boundaries you can protect against me.


Once you realise that musing on Jeremy Corbyn’s nakedness is not a bizarre gaffe in May’s campaign, but an illustration of her truest nature, many other things fall into place. Why does she get on so much better with an admitted rapist like Trump than she does with Emmanuel Macron, a man who respects women deeply? Because she thinks a man who respects peoples’ boundaries isn’t really a man.



Why did she include the sickening rape clause in changes to tax credits legislation? Because she likes the idea of rape victims being further humiliated; because being forced to prove your rape to the tax authorities feels like an absolutely delicious boundary violation.



Why she lost all those files on historic establishment child abuse? Because she doesn’t believe the abusers did anything wrong. 

With yesterday’s speech, the true horror of who and what Theresa May is stands revealed to us in all its prurient glory. The ‘vicar’s daughter’ whose media mouthpieces proclaim her piety and virtue is a sociopath who gets off on violating peoples’ boundaries. The force which drives her malicious perseverance in prosecuting those who disagree with her, and her Home Office’s open contempt for LGBT refugees, is nothing other than a desire to humiliate and degrade the Other. Indeed, her well-documented homophobia is something we see again and again in rapists, another aspect of their refusal to grant others physical and sexual autonomy.

Theresa May thinks like a rapist. It’s really that simple.



Ghosts of a Divided Kingdom 3


Perhaps I was wrong about the botched machete attack in Paris being the reason for all the Lee Rigby priming in the UK media. Because whatever you think about the motives for the disgusting attack on an Ariana Grande concert on Monday, the usual mouthpieces in the media are heavily pushing its links to the death of England’s sacrificial drummer boy.

Metro, the Mirror and the Star all make note of the synchronicitous timing, the Star helpfully pointing out that ‘dates matter to jihadis’. That those dates might also matter to other parties goes unmentioned.

The masters of tabloid manipulation at the Scum work the human interest angle with a story about how Rigby’s father is ‘physically sick’ because of the attack. I’d probably also feel physically sick if some tabloid scumbag was after me for a rentaquote in the aftermath of such a tragedy. The paper tells us he’s off somewhere to ‘get away from it all’ – ‘it all’ presumably including the reporters pumping him for juicy quotes about the deaths of children.

Interestingly, there was a flurry of Rigby-related stories in the run-up to the attack. The Metro reported on vandals attacking his memorial, on May 18th. On the 19th, the Scum reported on the trial of binman, former BNP member and Muslim convert Aabid Ali, taking care to make sure his views on the Rigby killing were front and centre in their headline on the case. And on the day of the attack itself, the Manchester Evening News made space for a piece on the Rigby Guardians bike ride, a hot news story which has happened every year since Rigby was beheaded, and which, this year, attracted ‘more than 100 people’ – i.e. not exactly huge numbers. So why is it important? Because it keeps the Rigby killing fresh in our minds. Available. In case something should happen.


And happen it did. Was it conspiracy? Did the authorities let it happen? Who knows? Unsurprisingly the bomber, Salman Abedi, turns out to have been known to the security services  – just like Michael Adebolajo. But it certainly gave Theresa May an opportunity to flex her authoritarian muscles. Britain is now under the jurisdiction of Operation Temperer , with armed troops drafted in to help the police guard ‘key sites’ and ‘large events’ – like the FA Cup final this weekend. Handy that. Expect May to show up in the stands, with a large contingent of squaddies on hand to burnish her ‘strong and stable’ credentials.

And if you don’t think all this is being used as security theatre, to try and big May up as Our Strong Leader, note this. The announcement of any increase in the terror threat level is usually made by the Home Secretary alone. But yesterday, who made the announcement to the nation? You got it: Saint Theresa, doing her best Mama Maggie impression.

This whole thing stinks.

Koalition Kaos?


As I predicted at the beginning of this year, 2017 is proving to be a very bad time to be an authority  figure. Donald Trump, America’s Chief Snowflake, is having almost daily meltdowns in the Oval Office, and has been despatched on a glad-handing mission aboard Air Force One to give him something to do while the Republican Party work out how to get rid of him without destroying themselves in the process. It’s all very reminiscent of the barbaric game of musical chairs described in Going Clear: at this stage, the one thing that’s crystal clear is that pretty much the entire GOP machine is implicated, so the whole pack of them are scrabbling around desperate to ensure they aren’t the one whose ass gets hung out to dry. The Machtergreifung of the so-called ‘alt-right’ is proving to be a somewhat less glorious seizure of power than they were promised: Hell, they can’t even lift anymore, bro.

Meanwhile in the UK, Theresa May continues to provide a fascinating case study in how not to behave in the face of the imminent eschaton. After weeks of hiding from voters, engaging in stage-managed photo-ops on deserted industrial estates with bused-in rentacrowds of Party faithful, and wheeling out the tall drink of water she calls a husband for fawning appearances on soft-touch chat shows as Britain’s best-loved couple since Ian and Myra  Posh and Becks, the Plague Nun of the King of All Spite took to Facebook to whine that we were all being jolly, jolly rotten to her, and if she lost only six seats then Corbyn would be in and where would we be then, hmm? Serve us right if we ended up without St Theresa at the helm, she sniffed. And, no doubt, comforted herself with the thought that if she does lose those six seats, and we do wind up led by what she tells us will be a ‘Coalition of Chaos’, and all the accumulated filth of our talk of human rights and democratic process foams up about our waists and we look up to her and shout ‘save us!’, she will look down and whisper ‘no’.

Sensitive girl, our Theresa.


And she’ll give you such a look, just see if she doesn’t (image courtesy of Another Angry Voice)

But let’s say Aunt Theresa is right for once – there’s a first time for everything, after all. Let’s say she doesn’t win those six vital seats, let’s say the other parties do all opt to enter into this Chaotic Coalition she’s so afraid of (along with debate, tough interview questions, brown people, the gays, and meeting the voters), let’s say all of that actually happens. My question is: would that be such a bad thing?

Chaos gets a bad rep. Sure, one meaning of the word is ‘complete disorder and confusion’, but chaotic systems in the mathematical sense are ones in which apparent randomness is actually the result of highly complex, dynamically interacting processes. Chaos conceals an implicit, emergent order, an order arising – one is tempted to say Erising – from the interactions and interference patterns of intersecting complex systems. Now ask yourself: which sounds like a more accurate description of reality – a mesh of complex, interacting elements, or Theresa’s World, where the Internet is under strict control, the state owns your house when you die (so much for ‘property-owning democracy beats communism any day’, huh?), and there’s honey still for tea – provided you’re an oligarch who can afford to get it imported, because no British worker wants to bring the harvest in.


We live, or are supposed to live – this government’s contempt for Parliament notwithstanding – in a representative democracy. If our reality is increasingly a world in which complex systems intermesh chaotically – where Brexit-voting pensioners eat cabbage grown by Poles while Czechs watch over them and keep them safe from harm – then why shouldn’t our legislative chamber reflect that? Why should we remain trapped in the zero-sum game of first past the post politics? If it did nothing else the Referendum last year showed us that system is no longer fit for purpose. The electorate, quite simply, is operating at a level of granularity which cannot be accurately represented by simple binary choices.

Which is to be expected. Living as we do in a time of greater apparent disorder, a time when established power structures are being rocked to their foundations, it makes much more sense to lean into the chaos than it does to resist it, or, as Trump, May, and ultimately Putin are trying to do, to surf the chaos current part of the way but then, Cnut-like, to try and bid the tide be still. It doesn’t work like that. Horus simply doesn’t like being told what to do. The Scorpion will stab your back before you ford the river. The fox will eat your chickens, and when you chase her, in your ordered band, your men will be unhorsed. You will die in the woodland, gored by the horn of a tree. Our words for fear and forest share a root, as you will see.

Gradually, as I write this, as you sit here reading it, May, Trump, and even Putin and his Wormtongue, Surkov, are coming to realise that their sneaky little ordo ab chao play is not going to work out the way they hoped. Even if May successfully fends off Corbyn, the overwhelmingly positive reaction to the Labour manifesto has shifted the Overton Window way to the left of what the Tories want. Choosing to make Corbyn and not the manifesto the target of her attacks has the bizarre effect of legitimising the manifesto, of suggesting the daring possibility that the same manifesto, under another leader, might go down like gangbusters. Conversely, May’s ‘if you don’t give all your votes to me then you’ll get him‘ play undermines her own manifesto – but given that said Tory manifesto basically boils down to privatising the NHS, killing foxes, censoring the Internet and stealing your Gran’s house, you can see why she doesn’t want to draw attention there.


A Chaos Coalition forming on June 9th would be no bad thing. English and Scottish Nationalism would at last be forced to find some accommodation. The dangerous polarisation of the country between Leave and Remain could find the space to get more nuanced. As we negotiate between the different factions in our own country, as we see how divided we are, we will realise we need to adopt more flexibility in negotiating with the EU27. An administration which owes its existence to the repudiation of zero-sum games will have less interest in imposing them on others.

A Coalition of Chaos, you say?

Well then I say Io muthafuckin Kaos, Mrs May.


Theresa May: a rapist’s friend


Now why might she have done that? Let’s engage in a little profiling.

Theresa May hates LGBT people. She has consistently voted against our rights, and as Home Secretary she positively revelled in sending LGBT asylum seekers home to countries where they would be tortured and subject to sexual violence like ‘corrective’ rape.

Theresa May also gets on tremendously well with admitted rapist Donald Trump.


Theresa May is an authoritarian who does not believe in taking into account the opinions of others. She brands legitimate disagreement with the way she runs this country as ‘sabotage’ and has her media mouthpieces declare she will ‘crush the saboteurs’.

Authoritarian. Homophobic. Mates with rapists.

Must I paint you a picture?

Okay then. I will:


Guillotine Ugly


A Tory victory at the ballot box would not lend this sick system legitimacy. It will merely mean the end of working to destroy said system by its own rigged methods. And the beginning of more extreme forms of resistance.

If I was a Tory I’d be PRAYING to lose. A Labour administration would act like a safety valve, and provide a tonic shot of optimism. It would go a long way toward healing our increasingly riven nation. Whereas. If the Tories get in again…

Well, if that happens, it’s gonna turn ugly. GUILLOTINE ugly.

St Theresa, Our Lady of Treachery



‘And every day, like a drip, the catastrophe that is Brexit becomes clearer and clearer. But you cannot mention it, or else someone might ask you: Whose side are you on exactly?’

Let me be clear: I will take no lectures on treachery and betrayal from supporters of Theresa May, a perennial turncoat who either lied about her position on Brexit before the referendum or is lying about her position on it now, and who owes her position as our currently unelected leader entirely to Putin’s meddling in our electoral system.


It is becoming clearer by the day that Brexit, like Trump’s election and the attempt to install Grandma Nazibonce as President of France, are part of an ambitious ploy by Putin to neuter Western Europe and prevent us putting a check on his plans to reconquer the former Soviet territories and install puppet governments like the Kadyrov regime in Chechnya in them. Theresa May, who, again, owes her position to Putin and those forces in our nation who have wrapped themselves in the flag while conspiring to turn us into a Russian vassal state, will not oppose him. The woman who consistently voted against LGBT rights as an MP will be only too happy to do nothing while homophobic, genocidal leaders like Kadyrov are installed from the Baltics to the Balkans.


May is Putin’s poodle. Her ramping up of the rhetoric against ‘saboteurs’ and her lies about acting ‘in the national interest’ are a desperate reaction to the first domino that failed to fall in her master’s scheme. France has held the line, where our politicians have either connived with our enemies or given in. There is a danger that people will begin to realise how much they have been played. Hence the One Show publicity blitz and Hail Mary plays like promising to bring back foxhunting to attract the votes of moneyed rural sadists.


Theresa May is going to tell you, again and again and again, that voting for her is ‘in the national interest’. But May lies. She lied about supporting Remain. She lied when she said she would not call an early election. And she lies now when she says a vote for her is a vote for Britain. It seems implausible even to me, but I am more patriotic than May and her ilk. I am more committed to the defence of the realm than she is. And that is why I say that a vote for May this June is a vote to reward foreign powers interfering in our democratic process, in the sovereignty Leave campaigners claimed was so precious to them.


If you TRULY wish to defend the national interest, you HAVE to vote May out in a month’s time. Otherwise – well, to borrow a phrase from the fulminating right-whingers May has pandered to: if you like Russia so much, why don’t you go live there?