I wake up, head pounding like a jackhammer on cheap concrete, expecting the usual parade of misery on my feed. But wait – what’s this? Good news? Did someone spike my coffee with optimism, or has Hell finally frozen over and nobody sent me the memo? Keir Starmer, that slick-haired, suit-wearing poster boy for bland competence, has pulled a U-turn so sharp it’s a wonder he didn’t snap his spine. And for once, it’s a U-turn I can stomach.
Disability benefits. Yeah, those scraps of dignity the government tosses to people who’ve already been kicked by life harder than a pitbull with a grudge. Starmer, our fearless Prime Minister, was all set to gut them like a fishmonger with a deadline. Personal Independence Payments (PIP), the health element of Universal Credit – gone, or so the plan was. Disabled folks, already clinging to the edges of survival, were staring down the barrel of a future where they’d have to choose between food and heat. I’ve known too many of them over the years – good people, broken by systems that don’t give a damn – to not feel my blood boil at the thought. The fear was real, and it was justified. Over 100 Labour MPs, bless their rebellious little hearts, thought so too.
So, picture this: Starmer’s sitting in No. 10, probably sipping tea from a mug that says “Sensible Governance,” when the news hits. His own party – over a hundred backbenchers, last I checked—are ready to storm the Commons and tank his precious welfare bill. That’s right, Keir, your own comrades are holding a knife to your throat, and they’re not here for a polite chat. The threat of defeat looms like a hangover you can’t sleep off, and suddenly, the man who loves a plan more than a dog loves a bone decides to listen. A No. 10 spokesperson – some faceless drone with a clipboard—says they’ve “listened to MPs who support the principle of reform but are worried about the pace of change.” Translation: “We were about to get our asses handed to us, so we caved.”
Here’s the deal: current PIP and Universal Credit health claimants get to keep their lifeline. The cuts, those soul-crushing budget-trimming slashes, will only hit future claimants. It’s not perfect – hell, it’s barely a victory – but it’s a damn sight better than what was coming. Dame Meg Hillier, the MP who led the charge like a punk Joan of Arc, says she’s on board now. The government’s welfare bill is “a good step forward,” she claims, and I almost believe her. Almost.
Chris Mason, BBC’s resident truth-teller, calls this Starmer’s third U-turn in a month. Three! The man’s spinning so fast he’s practically a human fidget spinner. It’s been a bumpy ride in Downing Street, and I’m here for it, popcorn in one hand, middle finger raised in the other. Because this isn’t just about benefits. It’s about people – real people, not numbers on a spreadsheet – who’ve been through enough without some suit in Westminster deciding they don’t deserve to live with a shred of dignity.
So yeah, Starmer blinked. The rebellion worked. For now, the disabled get to breathe a little easier, and I get to write a story that doesn’t make me want to punch a wall. But don’t get comfy, kids. This is politics, and the bastards are always one bad day away from screwing us again. Stay sharp, stay angry, and keep watching.
—Spider Thompson out, still kicking, still screaming.
+ There are no comments
Add yours