The woman opposite me on the train is reading The Daily Mail, flicking through it leisurely reading the strap lines and looking at the pictures of angry white people from the home counties – I paid, I want, I deserve, I need. She’s eating Snack a Jacks which are low...

I watched a bit of TV before I went to bed last night, Britain’s Streets of Vice, presented by the pious Sally Magnusson. Only the BBC would have a joyous Songs of Praise presenter front a program about something deemed so unholy. Like the program before it, Skint, it provides...

Fantastic to see Private Johnson Beharry, a young black foot soldier from South London, awarded the Victoria Cross For his acts of bravery. The right wing tabloid press fell over themselves to print the biggest headline, strange that not long ago they were using the same hysteria...

I’ve spent most of this weekend thinking about the woman I saw getting beaten up outside my flat on the early hours of Saturday morning. Horrible, the sight of a big strong man repeatedly punching someone smaller and weaker while her friends watched, terrified. There are few...