The New Conservative

Stewart Slater

Mood

The Weather Inside

It had been one of those weeks. It was not that anything had gone badly wrong, but more that nothing had gone particularly right. It could have been different – a push here, a nudge there, and it would have been a good week. But neither push nor nudge came and so it ended on […]

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Churchill statue

Dark Days Ahead 

I went to bed on Thursday expecting to wake up in the People’s Republic of Faragia. That didn’t happen. Firstly, the count didn’t start until 9am and secondly, the Tories won the most seats. When the dust settled, in my target seat (although not a top target), it hadn’t even been that close. Still, that minor wrinkle aside, Reform had good local elections. A

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doors

The Test

Being born must be the most surprising thing that ever happens to you. Not only can a foetus have no idea it can be born, but as soon as it is, it is subject to a range of experiences it has never had and has no reason to think it ever could. It gets colder.

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Social media

The Signals we Don’t Send

I haven’t seen all that many dawns, and many of those I have seen can be blamed on my father. One of those people who believe suggested check-in times leave far too much to chance, most childhood holidays started when the sky was the same colour as my sleep-deprived humour. One year he even contrived

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Keir Starmer

How We Use Our Enemies

Exhibit A: The government declines to send a Minister to appear on a politics show. “They’re frightened of us because we hold them to account,” the host informs the audience. Exhibit B: A female observes a certain froideur from a man in her social circle. Can’t handle strong women, she concludes. Two different events, one macro, one micro, but

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How We Miscount Time

“What a week, huh?” “ Captain, it’s only Wednesday.” If you’re as terminally online as I am, you’ll recognise the Tintin and Captain Haddock meme, deployed whenever the world seems particularly unsettled. Which means it gets deployed a lot these days. In the Anglophone world, we tend to think of comic strips as childish literature, those

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Tower of Babel

The Paradox of Pride

Sometimes Fate/Karma/Destiny – call it what you will – seems to juxtapose things just to make a point. Or perhaps the human mind, always desperate for coherence, imposes its own structure on the messy reality of random chance. Thus, a couple of days after Artemis II returned to Earth, the BBC decided to screen a

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man reading book on bench

The Littlest Thing

I bought a book the other week. Nothing unusual there. One of my regular treats early in my working life was to leave the office, head to a bookshop, buy a stack and then pop to the sushi place round the corner for an early supper and a quiet read. I have been a sufficiently

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Funeral

The Little Things

Death has been on my mind recently. Not my own – that will be the last thing I do. No, it is the demise of a lady in my extended circle which I have been pondering. It was not a surprise, particularly – age and a range of conditions made it likely that it would

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