Opinion

Why Tuesday’s Primaries Matter More Than Your Nan’s Obsession with Bake Off Right, let’s have a proper chat about something that’s absolutely crucial to democracy but somehow manages to be duller than watching paint dry on a Tuesday afternoon—which, coincidentally, is when all the exciting political stuff happens. Brilliant timing, that. This Tuesday is what the Americans call a “big primary day,” which is their way of saying “loads of people are voting to pick who they want to run for office, and frankly, nobody’s paying attention except political nerds and people who’ve accidentally wandered into a polling station thinking it’s a Tesco.” But here’s the thing—and I’m genuinely serious underneath all the waffle—these primaries are where the real power actually lives. Not in the general election, not in the fancy speeches, but in these Tuesday voting days that most of us completely ignore. ...

The Intelligence Community Just Got a Proper Pantomime, Hasn’t It? Right, so let me get this straight. We’ve got Bill Pulte—a bloke who made his fortune in real estate and became famous on social media for giving away money—now sitting in the director’s chair at the Director of National Intelligence. The DNI. The absolute top of the intelligence pyramid. The person who’s supposed to coordinate America’s entire spy apparatus, from the CIA to the NSA to all those mysterious three-letter agencies that probably know what I had for breakfast. ...

When Politicians Remember They Actually Need to Eat Crow (And Other Delicacies) Right, so here’s the thing about watching politicians do the old U-turn shimmy — it’s like watching your mate insist he’s “definitely not drunk” right before he tries to order chips from the bin. You know what’s about to happen, everyone in the pub knows what’s about to happen, and yet somehow it still manages to be both tragic and hilarious in equal measure. ...

How Becerra Did a Proper Runner and Left Everyone Else at the Starting Block Right, let me be honest with you straight off the bat—when I first clocked this story about Becerra leapfrogging his rivals in California’s gubernatorial race, my first thought was: Has this bloke discovered some sort of political teleportation device? Because mate, watching someone vault over their competition in American politics is rarer than finding a honest estate agent. Yet here we are, and it’s absolutely fascinating in the way a car crash is fascinating—you can’t look away even though you probably should. ...

When Curfews Become the Band-Aid on a Bullet Wound: Newark’s Immigration Detention Disaster Right, let me be straight with you: slapping a curfew on Delaney Hall after clashes over an immigration detention center is like your nan putting a plaster on a broken leg and calling it sorted. It’s not a solution—it’s theater. Expensive, heavy-handed theater with police horses. I’ve been watching this story unfold, and what absolutely does my head in is how we keep reaching for the same tired playbook every time things get spicy. Trouble at the detention center? Right then, let’s restrict people’s movement! Because nothing says “we’re listening to your concerns about human rights” quite like telling folks they can’t be outside after dark, innit? ...

Three’s Company, But Nobody’s Actually Having Fun: Why California’s Governor Race Has All the Excitement of a Wet Fish Right, let’s have a proper chat about what’s happening in California, yeah? Because apparently the Golden State’s decided to give us the political equivalent of a three-way tie at a very boring game of musical chairs. According to the latest polls, the California governor’s race is down to three frontrunners, and I’ve got to say—and I mean this with all the love in my heart—this is about as thrilling as watching paint dry in a British rainstorm. ...

A Billion-Quid Bung for the Lads: Why Trump’s “Anti-Weaponization” Fund is Peak Corruption Theatre Right, let me get this straight. We’ve got a sitting American president trying to hand out nearly two billion dollars to his mates — and I mean his actual mates, including blokes who literally stormed the Capitol — under the guise of fighting “weaponization.” And when a judge says “hang on a minute, mate,” everyone acts shocked. ...

Finally, Someone’s Talking Instead of Shooting — Let’s Not Balls It Up This Time Right, listen. I’m going to say something that’ll probably get me shouted at by absolutely everyone on the internet, but here goes: the fact that American and Iranian negotiators have actually managed to sit down in the same room and agree on extending a ceasefire is genuinely brilliant news. And I mean that without a shred of irony, despite the fact that I’m about as naturally optimistic as a wet Tuesday in Manchester. ...

The Absolute Cheek of It: When Republicans Ask the Supreme Court to Let Them Keep Their Racial Gerrymander Right, let’s have a proper chat about something that’s absolutely doing my nut in. Alabama Republicans have gone to the Supreme Court asking them to overturn a lower court ruling that found their congressional map was a “stark racial gerrymander.” And I’m not talking about your nan’s slightly wonky flower beds—I’m talking about deliberately carving up voting districts to suppress Black voters. It’s the sort of thing that makes you wonder if we’ve collectively decided that the Voting Rights Act of 1965 was just a lovely suggestion, like “please use a coaster.” ...

Russia’s Threats Are Like a Drunk Bloke at the Pub Who Keeps Saying He’ll Fight Everyone But Never Actually Throws a Punch Right, let me be dead straight with you: Russia ramping up threats against Ukraine tells us precisely bugger all that we didn’t already know, except that Moscow’s playing the world’s most tedious game of psychological poker with a hand that’s getting worse by the week. Here’s the thing about threats, innit — they’re the verbal equivalent of a bluff. And Vladimir Putin has become the international equivalent of that absolute muppet you see down the local who’s been necking lager all night, puffing his chest out, telling everyone he’s going to do them over, while his mates are quietly shepherding him toward the door before he gets absolutely mullered by someone half his size. ...