The Social Media Tumbrils Roll for Citizen Andrew Windsor
October dies in its customary grey light. The sky is cold and overcast; a persistent drizzle will soak my shoes on this afternoon’s walk. I learnt long ago that when it comes to bargain-priced footwear, the word waterproof is more a hopeful wish than a fact.
At breakfast I burnt my hand on steam from my kettle when its lid became dislodged as I poured hot water through a coffee filter. It’s nothing serious — more an irritant and an irrational sign that bad luck follows me like a stray dog looking for a master.
Like all months, recently, October finishes with vague apprehension. I’m never sure whether I can make my rent. It’s never much, but when you don’t have it, the sum needed may as well be a fortune. So, I become emotionally carbonated by anxiety.
Many face eviction next month because of the cost-of-living crisis, which has made housing too expensive for most. I spend over 60% of my income on rent. Rents are so high that in my apartment building you can find two families sharing one flat. Living cheek by jowl, these tenants lose privacy — and patience — judging by the screams spilling from their windows, like rocks sliding off a mountainside.
Millions are precariously housed across North America, the UK, and Europe. Yet neoliberalism refuses to fix the housing crisis because it would leave the 1% out of pocket. The crisis has left millions living on tenterhooks, wondering whether they can keep a roof over their heads. Eviction rates are up, and once you’ve been evicted it’s difficult to find a landlord willing to give you a lease. The only person I can’t feel sorry for facing eviction is that sex pest formerly known as a prince.
On 30 October 2025, Buckingham Palace — spooked by public outrage over its ties to the Epstein trafficking scandal — moved to remove Prince Andrew’s remaining royal titles and privileges. The King’s action reduced Andrew from Prince to ordinary private citizen. A King hasn’t taken such measures for hundreds of years, and in the past it was only for what they called treason. Perhaps to the royal family, irretrievably tarnishing their brand is treason.
It wasn’t a moral compass that compelled Charles to act. It was his midnight terror that Britain’s rabble, during this age of political chaos, might no longer believe the propaganda that the monarchy is a safe harbour of stability.
If the monarchy is so rattled about its survival that it turned a prince into a pleb to sate the crowd’s rightful thirst for justice, then the 1% and the political class must also be afraid. They’ve shown their hand and are worried about their grip on power. At the slightest spark, this giant powder keg of discontent could explode. Once that happens, no one will control the blast. It will either lead to a more equal democracy — or allow fascists to seize total power.
I’m not optimistic. The left hasn’t done its job of explaining who is truly making people’s lives miserable. It isn’t migrants, trans people, the disabled, refugees, or those on benefits. It’s the 1% — the top earners who prop up neoliberalism.
As I scramble to make next month’s rent because unlike Citizen Andrew; there is no cottage on the Sandringham Estate waiting for me, if I get evicted, I hope political change will come sooner rather than later. I hope left-wing movements and advocates can get their act together, like “Your Party,” before it’s too late. The establishment is winded and on the ropes. Now is our moment for a General Strike to put them on the canvass and down for the count.
A Note to Readers
Your support keeps me housed and helps preserve the legacy of Harry Leslie Smith. There are twelve hours left until rent day, and I have a shortfall of $265 (CAD). I hope to make it up in new subscribers or tips before 1 November. But it is a race against time. As I have always said if you can, you can, and if you can’t you can’t. So, no pressure.
If you can, please consider a paid or gift subscription — just £3.50 a month or £30 a year (converted automatically to your currency). It’s been a harsh month, which is why I’m offering 40% off yearly subscriptions for the next 24 hours — that’s £18 or $22 CAD.
Your support keeps the lights on, keeps me housed, and ensures the working-class history my dad and I documented will endure. If the winds turn in my favour soon, The Green and Pleasant Land will be picked up by a publisher and some of these burdens will ease.
If you can’t contribute, that’s fine too. We’re all in the same boat — rowing through hard times together.
Take care,
John
Andrew has had a useless but cossetted life, cushioned all the way along. Along the way, he sexually abused vulnerable young women and bullied serving staff. I won't be losing any sleep over him.