Where are all the left-wing billionaires? Diary 22/05/2025
follow the money
Every Sunday, paid subscribers of the Human Carbohydrate receive their “Seven-Day Carb Loading” -a recap of the week in my political/media/London/BRAT life.
“Stella, how can you possibly do something interesting every single day?”. Infidels, consult the back catalogue.
Insight, gossip, heartache, mischief, all in an honest day's work for a hard-working, reverse Lady Byron.
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1 minute's silence for our fallen soldier.
Monday 16th June
I record a podcast with a leader of a council who would make a great MP, and pick up the kids from school (go for after-work drinks with the 24-year-olds).
At Wessie Arms1, someone is trying to convince me that a guy who works at the Spectator and who you could imagine writing anonymous bile for the Pimlico Journal comes from a family that runs a sweet shop on Oxford Street2. The more delicious the story, the less likely it is to be true.
I meet a Tufton st3 BNOC4 who asks me what’s happening with me and Tory ethnonationalism Patient 0. I say I hope people will get tired of shipping5 me and the tall fascist baby while being fully aware that not using him as Exhibit A for every ‘state of this’ post I write would do most to help. I own up to my smearing being entirely self-inflicted but we can all agree his association with me boosts his whoring potential while tainting mine. Now, hand on heart, whose procreation will be more valuable to society? Exactly. Defend my honour, gentlemen.
Tuesday 17th June
I attend another Emergent Ventures dinner and spend the entire night questioning a 23-year-old Russian with a microchip in his hand. He got it in Infinita City off the coast of Honduras. Infinita is a private island where transhumanists meet to do research and presumably some sick group sex. The website of the VC that funds it says, “Infinita supports founders in overcoming regulatory bottlenecks by utilising startup cities, network states and legal engineering.” I tap my iPhone on the grain of rice implanted on the back of his palm, and his website appears on my screen like an air-dropped nude.