What is the point of you?

On Starmer, Labour and the rest of his ‘hoi politikoi’

Adapted from Rake’s Progress — Madhouse scene by William Hogarth (c.1734): public domain

After a dreadful 2023, and an experience that left me with a pretty severe case of writer’s block, i seem to be back. I’m writing trans stuff again. I am also writing more widely. About politics. About family. About… well, everything.

This is a bit of everything. Though it began with an imagining of which politicians you might invite to a Party, and includes a little political analysis along the way.

Now read on…

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Let’s (Labour) Party…

In the dreary, drab, and smoke-stained back room of a pub, somewhere in Boston, Lincs — the heart of Reform Britain — an equally dreary, drab crowd of tofu-stained punters has assembled. Mostly silent. Mostly unsmiling.

This, dear reader, is a party. A Labour Party, no less, assembled in the cause of advance celebration and merry-making for a historic victory just under a year ago.

Dead centre, Rachel Reeves scowls. In her hand, a gin and bitter. Sorry, no: in her hand, a gin.

And she is bitter. Her scowl is the scowl of the unloved and misunderstood. The scowl of the economist.