Rachel Reeves, the self-styled guardian of “fiscal responsibility”, should be sitting at the dining table of her constituency home, filling out an online application form for Universal Credit around about now.

Reeves, or the fiscal Iron Lady if you prefer, confessed not in shame but in a smug little statement that she’s been illegally renting out her posh £1.3 million London family home without a selective licence for over a year.

That’s the same licence Labour forced councils to impose to “protect tenants from rogue landlords”.

The same rules that fine ordinary private landlords £30,000 for failing to provide paperwork.

The same system Reeves lobbied Leeds Council to expand in 2023, while shadow chancellor, demanding “no mercy” for non-compliant owners.

And now? Ms Thieves faces no fine, and it’s business as usual, according to PM Keith.

Reeves has lost Labour its tarnished soul to the Greens

Reeves has blatantly violated the selective licensing scheme Labour championed to “root out rogue landlords”, and Keir Starmer is too weak to do anything about it.

This isn’t a functioning government these days.

This vile parade of hypocrisy and elite arse-covering is exactly why and how Labour fluked their way into power, just sixteen months ago, following fourteen unforgivable years of Conservative corruption.

Labour’s death-by-timidity won’t take anywhere near as long.

It’s not really for me to defend private landlords, but good ones do actually exist and this is exactly the sort of two-tier justice that is seeing voters run towards the Green Party in absolute disgust at the Labour government’s hasty moral abandonment.

Reeves’ fiscal cowardice has ensured the Labour Party has lost its tarnished soul to Polanski’s Greens who are winning plaudits by peddling a remarkably simple message of housing for all, wealth taxes, climate justice and a healthy dose of good old fashioned hope.

I could probably write an essay on Polanski’s (mostly) pros and cons. He is a polished performer and communicates his ideas with infectious enthusiasm and energy, and vitally, I think he really does get our disdain for the systemic rot that has engulfed Westminster.

Cautious optimism

We can see this reflected in recent opinion polls with one such survey putting the Greens in second place, ahead of the Labour, Conservative, and Lib Dem establishment parties.

But, I am wary of political chameleons. I think a few years in the left-wing trenches has left me feeling like cynicism is a safer default option than jumping in without knowing everything that I need to know.

I couldn’t give a shit about a bit of breast-growth wizardry, and the reasons behind Mr Polanski’s name change are both sincere and understandable.

But to go from making a name for yourself as a Corbyn-heckling Lib Dem to the Green Che Guevara does warrant a bit of scrutiny before I have #BackZack tattooed on my left butt cheek.

That said, I am happy to see the Greens laying solid, progressive foundations for the future, and Polanski is undoubtedly making the right noises and performing well, despite the ruthless establishment attack dogs attempting (but failing) to pin him to the floor with the usual nastiness that we witnessed during the Corbyn years.

You really do have to give credit to Polanski for making the Green Party a welcoming home for disenchanted and demoralised Labour voters. It’s not hard for a political party to lose hundreds of thousands, if not millions of votes, but you will not gain those same votes unless you have something worth saying.

Prince Nonce

I must admit, I was delighted to hear of Prince Nonce being downgraded to Andrew the Nonce. Andrew’s “Duke of York” title wasn’t actually earned. It’s genetic loot, handed down like a blood-stained trust fund

Hang on… Am I allowed to call him a nonce, dearest editor? We can always see if they’ll let me put the damages on Klarna?

[ED: nonce is far too polite for Andrew Mountbatten].

The man admitted to staying at Epstein’s island after the conviction. He posed with a 17-year-old victim. His “I don’t sweat” defence was so laughable it deserved its very own Netflix special. He even wanted a catch-up with Epstein following his release from prison.

The British royal family is the ultimate symbol of hereditary inequality. Think of it as a multi-billion-pound benefits system for people who’ve never worked a day in their lives, funded by nurses skipping meals and children holed up in mouldy temporary accommodation.

This gilded taxpayer-funded relic where wealth and power get passed down like a family heirloom, no matter how filthy and tarnished, needs to be dismantled and abolished.

I’m pretty sure the Prime Minister used to agree with me.

Institutional rot – from Andrew to Reeves

Andrew Mountbatten Windsor’s ties to Jeffrey Epstein have always screamed of “elite impunity”.

This is a man who hobnobbed with a convicted sex trafficker, got mummy to settle a lawsuit for twelve of your millions, without actually admitting guilt, and still got to lounge around in a Windsor mansion funded by the public purse.

Yes, Andrew was publicly castrated by his own brother in a move so overdue it’s practically a fucking fossil.

But this regime survival cosplay from Charles is too little, and way too late and serves as nothing more than a PR plaster on a gaping wound of institutional rot – much like Reeves and the Labour Party.

Abolish them.

By Rachael Swindon

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