Topping The Pizza

My life was quite complete without my ever having heard of Andrew Tate, but then it would have been quite complete if I had never heard of Greta Thunberg, either. And I do have a good record of rat-smelling where this sort of thing is concerned. I doubt that Ched Evans and I would find much to talk about, and I know that Freya Heath's victims and I would have more than enough for a very heated discussion indeed, but I was right from the start about both of those cases, as it is increasingly obvious that I have been about Prince Andrew. When is anyone to whom Ghislaine Maxwell was convicted of pimping going to be arrested at all, never mind with the fanfare that has attended the arrest of Tate? When is Heath going to be prosecuted for the criminal offence that it is for a British citizen or resident to have sex with anyone under the age of 16 anywhere in the world?

It would not surprise me in the least if Tate turned out to be innocent. Or to have been running something in Romania with impunity by greasing the right palms, as would also happen here or anywhere else, until he had failed to show due deference to Thunberg. She has undeniably pulled class and racial rank by sending round the rozzers, as she personally would no doubt be able to do in any European country other than Russia or Belarus, as well as in any of the United States, Canada, Australia and New Zealand, if not also elsewhere.

This intercontinental superpower is 19 years old, but it is apparently Tate's followers of the same generation who are too big for their boots. Nothing terrifies the ruling class of State-funded bourgeois women more than anyone with a young male following. There is no length to which that class will not go in order to destroy such a figure. Ask Ron Paul, or Bernie Sanders, or Jeremy Corbyn. Or Julian Assange, whom its branch in Thunberg's country treated in a manner that would have caused an international sanctions regime to have been imposed if it had been done to almost anyone else by almost any other state.

The Western elite tends not to like school refusers, but those do not tend to be upper-class white girls who bang on about anthropogenic global warming. As we have seen in recent days, that is supposed to be cause of any and every sort of weather, even when Hell freezes over. Nothing else justifies the predetermined policy prescriptions, which are indisputably anti-male in the extreme, all the way back to Margaret Thatcher's passionate addresses to the Royal Society and then to the United Nations General Assembly, the speeches that brought anti-industrial Malthusianism into the political mainstream.

Still, the late Dame Vivienne Westwood was also a staunch Green, but that did not stop her from being valiant in the cause of Assange, even to the extent of making the then Stella Morris's wedding dress. In what would otherwise be just another battle between the Azov Battalion and the Wagner Group, between the Iranian Revolutionary Guard Corps and the People's Mojahedin Organisation of Iran, then whichever of Tate and Thunberg came out to bat for Assange would be relatively more sympathetic. Both of them would still be awful, though.

All political parties of any size are abysmal on all of this, but we are heading for a hung Parliament. To strengthen families and communities by securing economic equality and international peace through the democratic political control of the means to those ends, including national and parliamentary sovereignty, we need to hold the balance of power. Owing nothing to either main party, we must be open to the better offer. There does, however, need to be a better offer. Not a lesser evil, which in any case the Labour Party is not.