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White Male, Working-Class and Against Far-Right Populism
Last week brought fantastic news: Plaid Cymru’s Lyndsay Whittle delivered a victory speech. I’ve been increasingly concerned by the constant noise, shouting, and prominence given to the populist right across the UK. It was gratifying to see Wales deliver a clear rebuke to Reform and, while they were at it, a slap to Labour. As…
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The fantastic things that keep me sane
The demanding nature of the hospitality business has consumed my days and nights, a relentless whirlwind that requires unwavering attention. It feels like a constant tightrope walk, with scarcely a moment of calm. Each day brings its own unique set of challenges, from the unpredictable drama of staff crises and unexpected equipment breakdowns to the…
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Waterloo Wander: A South Bank Stroll Through London’s Hidden Gems
I decided to seize the day and, more importantly, the glorious weather that was once again gracing us Londoners. So, I embarked on an early morning walk. You see, I figured the early bird gets the worm, or in this case, avoids the ‘after teatime’ terrors that some pearl-clutching fearmongers love to whisper and like…
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Beyond Passive Hope: Action, Resilience, and a New Path Forward
You always have hope,” a friend told me when I informed him of my health predicaments. “Well, fuck that!” was my reply. Amidst many conflicts and horrors that seem to persist forever, we are often reminded of hope. “Well, fuck that!” again was my reply. There’s something about that elusive notion of “just have hope”…
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Brixton: The Motorway That Almost Was (Thankfully!)
Every time I find myself wandering through Brixton town centre, I can’t help but play a little game of “what if?” It’s genuinely hard to imagine a completely different Brixton, one where the monstrous South Cross Route, a forgotten piece of the London Ringway, actually got built. Seriously, picture it – it’s like something out…
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“A good friend who was a cunt of a friend”
The news hit me like a physical blow, a punch to the gut that left me winded and disoriented. Stéphane. Gone. The word echoed in the hollow chambers of my mind, refusing to settle, refusing to make sense. And yet, amidst the initial shock and the burgeoning tide of sorrow, there was another, more complicated…
