editorial

For your tomorrow, we gave our today.

1.26 million Britannic men gave their lives in two world wars so we might live. Thank you, great and mighty men, from five humble and grateful generations.

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
    That mark our place; and in the sky
    The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
    Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
        In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
    The torch; be yours to hold it high.
    If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
        In Flanders fields.

We will never forget what you did. We will never forsake you.

Socialism's Missing Half: How To Make The Wealth It Redistributes

Marxism can tell you who should hold the keys to the factory. It has almost nothing to say about what goes on inside. A century of empty shelves, dead harvests, and rusting refineries followed, and Britain's left would now like another go, starting with the water.

Three Decades Of Covering Up Sexual Offending By Foreigners

One magazine's reassurance about migrant sex offending falls apart against police spreadsheets, court delays, and a blank column where the state's knowledge ought to be. Meanwhile, Whitehall is fighting its own regulator to stop anyone reading the full conviction tables.

Fawkes Never Had To Plan For Breakfast The Morning After

The crowd won. Now it owns 86,000 prisoners, £3 trillion of debt, and Monday's pension run. Britain has thrown out its rulers before without wrecking the country, and the method was brutally dull: keep the clerks, freeze the files, send the generals home, and let the voters finish the job.

Remember, Remember: One Bad Thursday Finishes Them

They guard the cellars and ignore the arithmetic. Nine thousand riot police, three thousand spare cells, and a generation of officials who bought quiet with other people's children. Fawkes needed gunpowder. Britain's rulers have done the job themselves. All it takes is someone calling the bluff.

We will never forget what you did. We will never forsake you.

Read more

Socialism's Missing Half: How To Make The Wealth It Redistributes

Three Decades Of Covering Up Sexual Offending By Foreigners

Fawkes Never Had To Plan For Breakfast The Morning After

Remember, Remember: One Bad Thursday Finishes Them