Melancholia after the election

Melancholia after the election

Throughout Jeremy Corbyn’s run as leader of the Labour Party, his politics have been embattled and scorned by the powerful. The beginning of his rising popularity throughout the summer of 2015 had a symbolic value. Corbyn became the catalyst for an articulation of the disillusionment felt by many concerning parliamentary democracy. Elites and liberals looked on with mysticism as it seemed that power within the party could be taken away from where they felt it belonged. Once it became the reality that Jeremy Corbyn had been elected leader with a huge mandate, his competitors being 3 forgettable ‘Labour moderates’ with bile softly cushioning their nerve endings, the media and the Conservative Party immediately took the opportunity to encroach on this dissent which they were now being forced to pay attention to. They felt that Corbynism represented a heterodoxy against the fatalism of neoliberalism, and they were terrified.

This has continued pretty much consistently throughout his tenure as leader, his fortitude delineating from a significant grassroots base which always remained loyal to his ideals and worked to push his policies into public discourse. I have not been uncritical of Corbyn. His politics are not quite the same as mine. Not only this but I think the Labour Party is probably the least inspiring vehicle for a socialist project that we have in the country. Just as consistently as his base were trying to authenticate him, the mediocrities of the Parliamentary Labour Party were always pissing themselves for attention, attempting to undermine him. I was nervous that, amidst all of this, the party would damage the chances of left-wing politics being taken seriously (not to say that I blamed Corbyn himself).

The snap election however, called in April 2017 by Theresa May, was a time for the left to rally behind the Labour leader unequivocally. The campaign that Jeremy Corbyn fought signified a lurch from the configuration of the post-Thatcherite politics, which has been febrile and panting as it has thrusted and fucked a generation over the past two decades. Throughout this election, it is not surprising that there had been a huge speculation about turnout. Jeremy Corbyn’s leadership pitch was, from the start, that he would bring back lost voters, people who have given up and felt alienated from the system. Therefore, with the enthusiasm for the manifesto, the success on Corbyn’s part depended on the youth turnout, discontented swing voters in Conservative held safe seats and sweeping up a significant portion of the UKIP, Green and Liberal Democrat votes. He needed to confound expectations.

The platform that the Labour leadership ran their election campaign on was fundamentally one of change. Upon it’s unveiling to the public, the programme which Corbyn and his close team had set out in his manifesto was received incredibly well across all of the different categorisations of the electorate. The minimalist case to vote for Labour which we had seen in previous elections had now been shattered. This was a truly transformational set of policies and an exciting pitch to get behind to begin galvanising support for across Britain. Within the manifesto we saw considerable possibilities for the reversal of devastating Tory politics, such as the scrapping of tuition fees, ending the freeze on welfare benefits and free childcare with an extension of maternity pay. There were also pledges to bring back the rail, energy and water companies into public ownership, a potential here to save millions and run efficient services. This would largely be paid for by the raising of corporation tax from 20% to 26% and increasing the income tax for the very wealthiest in our society.

The line which the Tories kept peddling throughout the campaign was that “Labour is taking us back to the 1970s”, not only is this facile and something which ideologically indiscriminate losers would lap up exclusively, it’s also a dire misrepresentation of what the leadership of Labour were proposing. It goes beyond nostalgia and presents a plausible practicality as outlined in their comprehensive ‘Alternative Models of Ownership‘ report:

“Nothing other than the creation of an economy which is fairer, more democratic, and more sustainable; that would overturn the hierarchies of power in our economy, placing those who create the real wealth in charge; that would end decades of under-investment and wasted potential by tearing down the vested interests that hold this country back (p. 32).”

With this ethos firmly rooted in his politics, Jeremy Corbyn’s election campaign slogan was, “For the many, not the few”. Although it’s ultimately a slogan, a profound radicalism, evident in his programme, bolstered its meaning. There is no questioning, in any corner of our media, on Corbyn’s exceptional ability for campaigning effectively any more. His palpable fury toward the elite and the way that our country is run is consolidated in the resounding speeches which he gives on how things need to change. This is where he excels. He travelled across the country – to Tory marginals, to Labour marginals, to Tory strongholds, attracting crowds in their thousands to deliver his message for a progressive politics.

Polling day for the election was June 8th and an increased turnout from the disenfranchised voter groups was Labour’s priority. The Conservatives don’t need to consider this, their messaging on polling day is significantly different. Theirs is one of fear for the calamity they feel a Labour government would cause to their blessed order of things. They know that the elderly people close to death will turn out in swathes and do anything to stop the tide from taking their pension, or something. It’s just common sense to vote for the Conservatives, and the common sense in the UK is always from the point of view of warfare. They will vote for whichever candidate would seem more threatening to the world if their face were to be projected onto the White Cliffs of Dover. The electorate would largely be more comfortable to see the destruction of millions of people and the beginning of the apocalypse rather than see society change before them by just 1% for the better. They cast their vote to prevent what they see as an inevitable decline in their way of life.

Needless to say for anybody who had the curiosity to find out what was going on, when the exit poll was revealed and the results began to come in, the Labour leadership and the mobilisation behind Corbyn had proven to be a phenomenal success. They gained seats in places which had been Conservative ever since the Anglo-Saxon settlers dragged a great beast ashore which burrowed its way underground and poisoned the dirt beneath us. Canterbury and Kensington were won, key marginal seats swung to Labour and Tory safe seats across the country had their majorities drastically reduced by party candidates and campaigners. The final count had the Conservatives at 318 seats (8 short of a majority government) and Labour at 262. The pedants and intellectually dishonest clods will insist that this is a parliamentary defeat. The reality is that the Tories were the largest party and it is likely that Theresa May will form a coalition government with the DUP. However, the resounding victory of hope in this election is clearly inexplicable to them.

Jeremy Corbyn’s election campaign had brought a new kind of power into possibility. A shift towards workers’ rights and a reversal of the undercutting of wages. Emancipatory rights for women, with maternity support and investment in other vital services for POC and disabled people. A move towards national self-determination. Public ownership of our industries. Free higher education, leading to the expansion of literacy. An unlocking of opportunity for each and every one of us. These were our incantations, and they landed. We saw an unprecedented surge, unseen in British political history, in support for a progressive programme. It was a dissolving of the neoliberal certainties imposed on us.

What we are seeing is Theresa May’s party in disarray. She called a self-serving general election to wipe out the opposition and she lost her gambit emphatically. For weeks we were warned of a “coalition of chaos” by the Conservative Party. In the best way possible, ironically, this is exactly what has instead now transpired with the Tories and the DUP. She remains as leader of a weak party, a minority political force. The course of the next parliament and the next general election are ours. Irrespective of the fact that Jeremy Corbyn is not yet our Prime Minister, this is a project which is necessary to emulate for the left across the world, a blueprint for reform and then to socialism. It’s worth pursuing—to goad what is considered human nature and necessary in this neoliberal moment—because caught in the seam of our ruinous world leaders, it’s the only thing that can save us. But don’t mourn, comrades: melancholise.

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Theresa May, the dread of the mollusc

Theresa May, the dread of the mollusc

“The many … whom one chooses to call the people, are indeed a collection, but only as a multitude, a formless mass, whose movement and action would be elemental, irrational, savage, and terrible. […] Public opinion deserves to be esteemed as much as to be despised; to be despised for its concrete consciousness and expression, to be esteemed for its essential fundamental principle, which only shines, more or less dimly, through its concrete expression.”
― Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel

What Theresa May represents is the final meaninglessness of parliamentary democracy. Destitution in the UK is prevalent with many relying on food banks to stay alive, services are being sold off to exploitative companies, housing is unaffordable and mental illness spreads like a malignance. Change is sought by the people. Media institutions and politicians largely have no solutions – they’re disarticulate, phatic and reactionary. Stare too long into our Prime Minister’s ghoulish face and it’s hard to tell what the point of all of this is. It’s a constant reminder that this world is not a sane or a rational place.


None of this was supposed to happen. Corbyn’s poor polling was alleged to remain static throughout the campaign and the Tory’s were going to win a significant, consolidating majority. This general election had been called precisely because Theresa May thought that she would appeal to the British public as a symbolic eclecticism of imperialism. She’d sit in cabinet meetings and boast of how she would be a proud mummy to this great empire. The UK under her leadership would subduct large areas of Europe and she’d spank the botty of anybody who questioned her authority and ‘difficult woman’ reputation which she’d assimilated for herself among colleagues. This is still how May presents herself and she still believes it. Now that she has to campaign in public, the factor which has changed is that the electorate are beginning to see the horrifying grimace on her face as the bile glugs back down her throat when she stops talking for a moment. They’re seeing how much she despises them, how utterly discomposed she is to be in their presence. To combat the Labour surge in the opinion polls, the Tories are relaunching their campaign, they need to transform her.

The Conservative Party’s campaign manager, Lynton Crosby, steps into a chamber filled with senior Tory officials. After some dull greetings and discussion, a member of the group stands up and says “Mr Crosby, the IRA terrorist sympathiser smear against Corbyn has largely been ineffectual – we’re losing ground, the poll gap is nowhere near as sizeable as it was when we called the election”. Crosby’s lips curl and he turns a shade of pink but this swiftly transitions into a glazed smile. “You’re right, this is a disaster” he says, “It’s different to how I imagined. Her reputation has superseded her abilities. She looks distinctly uncomfortable around the general public and she’s turning this campaign into a vanity project”. He paces toward the other side of the room, “Gentlemen, I know that you are all thinking ‘how do we turn this around?’ Well…” Crosby turns from the group and violently kicks an odd looking instrument, a great humanoid hunk of steampunk machinery with children coiled and sprawled into the mechanisms to operate the gears. The machine speaks, it’s sentient and it has an answer for them. As its creator, Lynton Crosby is the only one who understands it, only he can translate the dialect. The other men in the room, looking nervous, patiently await a solution for their campaign woes. “We’ve got it!” Crosby suddenly exclaims. He begins to sermonise, mostly-incomprehensible babble spews from his now foaming mouth “[…] We’re going to be focussing on Brexit and we’re now going to adopt the Labour campaign strategy of convincing video messages outlining our position, posted online for the public’s viewing”, he excitedly announces. “That’s how we will gain the assurances of our voters once again and the Prime Minister avoids the agonising contact with them!” The men in the room nod in unison and one by one begin to stand and applaud. Crosby signals at the door to the chamber and gleefully beckons “Come on in, girls!”, swim suit models hurriedly enter with champagne bottles and glasses. He presses a button on an old stereo system, pop music plays and the room breaks out into awkward flailing and celebratory handshaking.

Theresa May was next to appear on the Sky News programme, The Battle for Number 10. Throughout the campaign, she’d rejected one-on-one debate proposals with Jeremy Corbyn because her record in government is emphatically indefensible. Service cuts, big business favoured policy and a poorly handled Brexit process so far would all be easy targets for Corbyn. However, this programme was the Tory voter’s consolation prize, this was an opportunity to see their herald shine while being questioned and interviewed – who would believe it – in the same building as the Labour leader.

She arrived in the studio and took to the stage, her voice tremulous as she exchanged greetings with the show’s presenter, Faisal Islam. As she looks out into the audience, her smile gradually fades and the mollusc-like similarity in her skin tone and eye colour is more pronounced. One after the other, she is asked questions by members and she responds to them in turn. “What Jeremy Corbyn is proposing is nationalisation and higher taxes for the wealthy. This is simply impractical!”. Her face shifts into showing a sort of crinkled exuberance. “Now this…” as she gestures toward a toothless child freezing to death “this is real politics”. Murmuring and heavy sighs can be heard from the viewers, they’ve known her to use this rhetoric before. Halfway through the questioning, she insists on going backstage briefly and is granted permission. After a momentary pause in the studio, she returns, hastily cramming tadpoles into her mouth and then indicates to Faisal that she’s ready for another question. After answering more, attempting to reassure the public with promises of strength and stability, Theresa May makes one final appeal to the audience: “Many of my colleagues have called me a ‘bloody difficult woman’, this is because when I have a principle, nobody will stop me in my determination to deliver what’s best for the people of Britain”. During her statement, she begins to twitch nervously and coughs from the spiders stuck in her throat, haplessly trying to recall what the next part to her culminating speech is. She creaks into a crotchety smile once again, “We make absolutely clear, no deal for Britain is better than a bad deal.”, the crowd erupts into frenzies of cheers, clapping and sobbing. The camera pans to them, they have arisen from their seats. Tiny bow ties are visible in the audience, along with dripping brows and a woman holding out her hands as though they are akimbo pistols and mouths “Boom!”. The camera operator reverts back to May’s face, “Subsume yourselves”, she utters under her breath, “You will all be eating dog food”. They have just applauded the abyss.

A manifesto for the end of the world

A manifesto for the end of the world

A foreword by a zealous ideologue for the doctrines of smallness, insipidness and absolute hatred 

We are a great country. With great people. In the last five years I have heard your stories, your hopes and your aspirations. And I have heard too your frustrations.

The countless people working as hard as they possibly can and still struggling to pay the bills. The young people with great ambitions but great anxieties about the future. The dedicated staff of our NHS, who are deeply concerned about its funding. And all those who have served our country, are now retired, and ask where our country is going.

This manifesto is inspired by you.

National renewal

A simple truth known by many Brits is that we’ve had our chance, the world is dying. Climate change will ensure a great death for us all but remaining ahead of the world’s evil is all we can do in the meantime. In order to become a nation subsumed by this reality, we as a party are renewing our traditions of striving for fundamental change for the good people. Our pledges to you are as follows:

–  As a party of eugenicists, of antinatalists and ungulate herbivores with an appetite for blood: the weak, the homeless and their dogs should be harvested for soup to help reduce the scale of the agricultural crisis.

– The economy may seem fine but it is simply not good enough. All currency should now serve as a symbol for an individual’s eternal damnation. Spending will increase and the rapid expansion of our economy means that Europe will be entirely subducted by the British Isles in just a few years time. In order for this model to be sustainable, all material would be built in obsolescence: housing, clothing, technology and so on. Upstanding citizens would be actively encouraged to commit horrendous atrocities to keep the pound strong.

– Out of boredom, we’ve built and conceived of the towers high enough to reach the heavens. Made of glass, wiring and steel, we will demolish each and every one and gather the materials to be broken and smelted down for the assembling of magnificent drones, to eradicate boredom forever.

– As Earth’s climate warms, once-dormant bacteria and viruses trapped in ice and permafrost are reviving. This process is too incremental and it should happen now whilst widely-available antibiotics are powerless. We will send orphans over to the tundras in Siberia where the released infectious anthrax will taint their tiny bodies, to then bring the illness back to our own shores.

– Due to failures in conservation efforts, there are not enough terrifying birds in Britain. We want to introduce the Shoebill into our swamps and grasslands, there to feed on dreams, fairies and foxes alike.

In this election the country has a choice

Either we can carry on as we are, with an economy that might actually work for too many disposable losers. A country in which snowflakes are being sucked into our airwaves and making us horny and caustic. Or we can change direction together.

That’s what this manifesto offers. It is the kind of country we know ourselves to be. Let’s truly build it together.