Class War

Activists shouted at his children: "Your daddy is a totally horrible person."
Whether you vote or not, whether you've ever voted or not, one thing is for sure, like me, you're on a political journey. None of us arrives fully formed. We have to find our way through these moments. We don't exist separate to the state and capitalism. There is no pure anarchist approach to this crap. We represent ourselves in whatever way we feel fit and that is enough.
Watching the Labour Party tear itself apart over a tweet or two is excellent entertainment. The right of the party is reeling from the rise of the Corbynistas and the left are desperately trying to keep control of the party machinery when their MP's are hostile to change.
It's very easy these days for journalists to seize on one hastily written tweet and justify their existence by writing rubbish about it. It's an easy way of filling space. One tweet gets all the attention instead of the hours, days and months that a person spends doing actual things.
Gentrification is not simply about gimmicky shops and cafes. It's about anger at being excluded on grounds of wealth. It's about the people being forced to move and the ones valiantly trying to stay put despite the pressure to leave. It's about the inclusive social and communal spaces that have gone, not the exclusive ones that have sprung up.
A group of anarchists who vandalised Shoreditch's hipster Cereal Killer Cafe at the weekend have announced their next target
Therapy. You need to climb aboard that bandwagon, because all the indicators show that there has never been a greater demand for therapy. Did you know there is a worldwide increase in anxiety?
We are living in the midst of an economic meltdown, which as the latest economic figures reveal is being made worse not better by a Chancellor whose incompetence and mendacity is now beyond doubt.
The cynical attempt to stigmatise, demonise, and dehumanise millions of people up and down the country, regardless of their personal or individual circumstances, surely ranks as one of the most vicious and brutal acts of any British government in living memory.
Clad in tweed and carrying a wicker shopping basket, she looked like exactly the kind of person that the Daily Mail would use in an advertising campaign to drum up support for their publication: Despite a plethora of seats being available, she chose to sit next to me