Wizard's Weekly Wrap-Up: Broken Thrones and the Collapsing Pyramid
Starmer Falls, Trump Flails, Democracy Buckles and the System Seizes: The Week That Was June 21-27 2026
This week, the machinery of the world kept jamming and nothing worked like it was supposed to. Levers were pulled, but nothing happened. Deals were signed that dissolved before the ink dried. Agreements were struck that bound no one. Leaders went through the motions of governing while the thing they were standing on quietly gave way beneath them. Even the Earth threw up weather that shouldn’t have been.
In Britain, the revolving door at Number 10 ejected yet another prime minister as Keir Starmer stepped down after his own party decided he was no longer the one to carry them forward. No catastrophe or scandal brought him down - just the slow draining away of confidence until there was nothing left to stand on.
In Israel, Benjamin Netanyahu spent the week unable to hold his own house together, as his coalition fractured over the question of who has to serve and who gets to be exempt. His ultra-Orthodox partners have walked, and his own government is now choreographing its own dissolution, setting a clock on itself before an election it may not survive. The strongman, reduced to managing the timing of his own undoing.
In Russia, Vladimir Putin reportedly spent the week in a bunker, watching his own capital burn. Ukrainian drones struck Moscow’s main refinery for the second time in a week, shut down all four of the city’s airports, and the Kremlin, gripped by talk of assassination and coup, is now reportedly watching its own inner circle. The man who built a fortress to make himself safe is hiding inside it from the people who built it with him.
And across the Atlantic, the opposite affliction. While much of the western world cannot hold onto a leader, America cannot get rid of theirs, and the machinery there isn’t revolving, it’s seizing. A landmark housing bill, passed by both houses, frozen mid-signature because the man with the pen threw a tantrum. A peace deal signed in a gilded hall that stopped no war on any front that mattered. A reflecting pool that turns green no matter how many millions are poured in to make it look the way one man needs it to look.
And it wasn't only America's executive that ran amok this week - its Supreme Court stripped protected legal status from more than 350,000 people who came to the United States fleeing war in Syria and Haiti. The ruling prompted Stephen Miller to announce that the country had no future unless it ended birthright citizenship entirely, and a Republican congressman from Minnesota to tell the Somali community in his own district that if they hadn’t assimilated, they should go back to where they came from. Everywhere this week we saw the same uncanny sight: the motions of power, performed perfectly, producing either nothing at all, or the exact opposite of what they are supposed to.
And that was just the politics. This week the Earth itself seemed to buckle. Massive twin earthquakes struck Venezuela, collapsing buildings across Caracas and La Guaira and killing hundreds, with many still missing beneath the rubble, on the same day a 7.4 earthquake shook Japan. Across the Atlantic, Europe endured a brutal early heatwave that killed dozens and pushed France to its hottest day since records began, as the Bureau of Meteorology officially declared El Niño, and potentially a super El Niño, now loading in the Pacific, already pointing its long shadow toward an Australian summer.
If this week you felt the sense that nothing is working the way it’s supposed to, you weren’t imagining it. The sky has been saying exactly this for some time now, and this week it said it louder. The systems we built to carry us are not broken in the way a machine breaks, waiting for the right person to come along and fix it. They’re reaching the end of what they were ever able to do, and the leaders cycling through them - ejected here, entrenched there, hollowed out everywhere - are not the disease. They’re the symptom we keep mistaking for the cause.
If you’re feeling exhausted by the news or like nothing makes sense any more, or you’re worried for the future and want to know what comes next, then read on, dear friend. As always, the sky is showing us exactly where we are, where we are headed and what’s required of us next. Let’s look up and find the way through, together.
Thank you for being here, and for reading and sharing this writing - it's your presence that makes it possible. If you'd like to go deeper, there's a whole community waiting in the Inner Circle, and you're warmly welcome to join us.
The cosmic insights shared here are mapped to the real movements of the heavens during the past week. If you want to know more about planetary pattern recognition, read about it here
Another One Down at Downing Street
In July 2024, Keir Starmer walked into Number 10 Downing Street on the back of a landslide victory. After fourteen years of Conservative chaos, Labour rode into power with a decisive majority, an expression of Britain’s exhaustion with the alternative more than anything else.
The revolving door of leaders over the last decade was largely driven by the British system’s inability to deal with the self inflicted wound of Brexit - the 2016 referendum that saw Britain vote to leave the European Union. The Leave campaign - championed by Trump enthusiast Nigel Farage - fed the British public a story that the country was being overrun by immigrants empowered by EU free movement, that sovereignty was being stolen by faceless Brussels bureaucrats, and that £350 million a week that was vanishing into EU coffers would instead flood back into the National Health Service the moment Britain took back control. It was a lie on every count, and the pound crashed the morning after the vote passed, but Farage and friends spent the years since avoiding accountability by continually stirring up grievances against the leaders installed to manage the mess they made.
Farage formed his own party, Reform UK, and after years of relentless divisiveness and fear-stoking, Starmer’s approval rating collapsed by the end of 2025. Labour went on to lose close to 1,500 council seats in the recent local elections, and they lost a by-election in Wales as Reform UK swept into working-class areas that had voted Labour for generations. By mid-May, Labour MPs were publicly calling for Starmer to resign.
And that’s how this week Keir Starmer came to step down, clearing the way for Britain’s seventh prime minister in a decade. In Britain, the pressure valve that removes leaders is connected to the news cycle more than anything else, which means governing - the kind that requires difficult decisions and long time horizons and the willingness to be unpopular for a year in service of something better - becomes structurally almost impossible. Because the moment the polls dip and the papers turn, the wolves are at the door. The mechanism that removed Starmer this week wasn’t the electorate - ultimately it was Farage, and the press that amplifies him, working the exploit until the system’s own machinery did the job for them.
Starmer wasn’t perfect - he made missteps like all leaders do - but he didn’t resign due to an act of catastrophic failure. He resigned because his parliamentary party had lost faith that he was best placed to lead them into the next general election. In Britain, a prime minister holds power only as long as they hold the confidence of their party's members, and when that confidence collapses, no election is required to remove them - the party just withdraws its support and the leader goes. A group of unhappy backbenchers can end a premiership in a week, which is exactly what forced Starmer’s resignation, making him the sixth British prime minister to resign rather than lose at an election in the last decade.
The problem in Britain isn’t a lack of capable leaders (though some have been truly woeful), but that the seat of power is increasingly losing its capacity to seat anyone at all. The most powerful office in British governance has now become almost untenable, and no matter who replaces Starmer, they will invariably face the same attacks from the likes of Farage and the media, and the revolving door will keep on revolving.
What Britain needs now isn’t a better occupant for the chair - it’s a different furniture arrangement entirely.
A Gutful of Grievances
Across the Western world, the same story is playing out in different accents. France has battled the same revolving door of leaders as Britain, watching five prime ministers come and go in two years. One of them resigned less than fourteen hours after presenting his cabinet, becoming the shortest-serving prime minister in the history of the Fifth Republic, then was immediately reappointed and survived two no-confidence votes only by agreeing to abandon the central policy of the previous government.
And France has its own version of Britain’s Farage stirring the pot. Marine Le Pen has spent thirty years building the National Rally into France’s dominant political force on a platform of anti-immigration grievance, Islamophobia, and nostalgia for a France that largely existed only in her imagination. She has been bankrolled by Russian-linked banks and, more recently, by the media empire of billionaire Vincent Bolloré - the man widely regarded as the French Murdoch - whose CNews channel has spent years doing for Le Pen what Fox News did for Trump: pulling hard-right grievances into the mainstream, one outrage cycle at a time.
Le Pen’s operation doesn’t need to govern France. It just needs to make France ungovernable by anyone else, and on that measure, it has been spectacularly successful. The system designed around decisive executive authority and a strong centre has arrived at a parliament that cannot decide anything. Political analysts are no longer calling this a temporary crisis, but a permanent feature of France’s political landscape.
Head to the land Down Under and the system there is heaving too, having lived through it’s own period of prime-ministerial instability from 2010 to 2018, when Australia churned through five prime ministers in eight years, with most being removed by their own party rather than at an election. Though the revolving door in Canberra seems to have calmed down over the last decade, the system itself has begun to splinter as Australia finds itself right now in the grips of a political farce.
Australia’s traditional two-party system has all but collapsed in recent months after a series of internal leadership crises, defections, and an electoral drubbing stripped the right-wing Liberal Party of its remaining credibility with the suburban moderates it once relied upon. The right side of Australian politics has hollowed out, its voters have scattered, its identity has dissolved, and the vacuum it’s left behind appears to have given sudden rise to Australia’s answer to Trump - Pauline Hanson.
Hanson has been a sideshow in Australian politics for thirty years. A former fish and chip shop owner from Queensland, she first entered federal parliament in 1996 on a platform that was built on suspicion of Asians, contempt for Indigenous land rights, and a comprehensive hostility toward anything that arrived in Australia after 1955 and didn’t look like her. Her first parliamentary speech warned the country was being “swamped by Asians,” though the threat has since been updated to Muslims that she says are invading the country and of whom she has “had a gutful.”
Australian politics spent most of this century trying to keep the flame-haired rabble-rouser on the fringe where she belonged - she was briefly jailed in 2003 for electoral fraud, and lost 8 elections between 1998 and 2015. But just this month, she saw a surge in the polls when she declared at the National Press Club that Australia could no longer be a multicultural society and must instead become a monoculture. Though she struggled when pressed by journalists to define what, precisely, a monocultural Australia would look like - a general atmosphere of Crocodile Dundee, meat pies and lamingtons, it seems - Pauline’s party is now polling at 23% of the primary vote, making it Australia’s third-largest political force.
The rise of her divisive One Nation party is being funded by Gina Rinehart - Australia’s richest woman, mining magnate, avid Trump admirer, and a person with strong views about how the country’s resources should be managed, which is to say in her direction. The Murdoch-owned Australian media outlets, which spent years keeping Hanson at a cautious arm’s length, is also stirring the pot, offering exactly the kind of breathless coverage that gave rise to Trump in America.
It’s all manufacturing conditions around Australia’s current prime minister, Anthony Albanese, that are recognisably the same as those that just ended Keir Starmer’s tenure in Britain - a media ecosystem running on disapproval ratings, a parliamentary party beginning to glance nervously at polling, and a sense that the prime minister in place is not the prime minister the moment requires. The moment, according to the Murdoch press, requires Pauline Hanson - a woman with minimal discernable policies, only a long list of grievances, and behind those grievances stand people with significant wealth and significant interests, for whom a confused and angry figurehead in The Lodge would be a remarkably useful arrangement.
Like Farage in the UK or Le Pen in France, Hanson doesn’t need to become prime minister, she just needs to make Albanese’s polling numbers frightening enough that Labor MPs start doing to him what Labour MPs just did to Starmer - glancing at their own margins, calculating their own survival, and deciding that the leader is the problem. Creating the conditions that will prompt the governing party to destroy itself leaves the field wide open for those funding the destruction.
Pauline Hanson is not the answer to Australia’s pain, any more than Farage is Britain’s saviour or Donald Trump was the answer in America - she’s just the shape the pain takes when no one credible can hold the space. This is what the end of an era looks like from the inside: not one dramatic collapse, but the slow draining away of faith, until the vessel is empty and whatever is loudest rushes in to fill it.
Madman at the Wheel
While Britain, France and Australia eject their leaders like a body rejecting foreign tissue, across the Atlantic, the opposite problem plagues the American system, which has calcified around one man in a way its founders never imagined and its institutions cannot correct. The democratic mechanisms built precisely for this kind of course correction have been stress-tested to breaking point, and they are now clearly failing. While much of the western world can’t keep a leader, America can’t seem to get rid of theirs.
In the British or Australian system, a leader who conducted themselves like Donald Trump does as president wouldn’t last a single day in office. The debacle of the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool would be enough on its own to see him sent into political exile, but in America, it’s just one more misdeed that the broken system must absorb - the perfect mirror of the Trump presidency and America under his rule.
In April, Trump announced he was going to fix the Reflecting Pool after what he claimed was gross neglect by Obama and Biden, even though Obama already spent millions fixing it during his term. Trump said the repairs would cost around $1.8 million and could last a hundred years, awarding the contract without competitive bidding to a water treatment company - owned by a Trump donor - called, with an irony too perfect to be invented, Greenwater Services. The actual cost came in at $14.2 million, and within a day of the pool being refilled, it turned bright green - turns out painting the bottom of a reflecting pool a dark “American flag blue” heats the water faster which causes algae - it’s basic biology. The administration scrambled to fix the problem by pouring hydrogen peroxide into the national monument, but the hydrogen peroxide created the precise conditions for a more persistent variety to take its place, and then the new blue epoxy began peeling off the bottom and floating in the vivid green water.
Rather than owning up to the fact that he botched the entire project, Trump blamed “Radical Left Lunatics” and “Dumocrats” for vandalism, claiming that someone had used a knife to cut “a 250-foot gash” in the pool lining. When asked for evidence, he provided absolutely none, despite the fact the Reflecting Pool is under constant video surveillance. The National Guard was deployed to patrol the area, and people were handed citations for touching the water, and by close of week, a fence covered in a tarp had been erected around the pool, redacting the evidence like it were one of the Epstein files.
Minnesota Governor Tim Walz offered the cleanest summary of the madness: “Found an imaginary problem, said only they could fix it, didn’t listen to experts, hired buddies who grifted millions, failed miserably, bragged how great it went. The entire Trump presidency in a nutshell.”
Social media users have taken to calling the algae-choked pool the “Strait of Warm Ooze” - a reference to the Strait of Hormuz, which Iran has closed again as a result of Trump’s war that he has now declared ended more times than anyone can count. Strategic studies scholar Phillips O’Brien wrote this week that he has “never seen the US in such a position of weakness” as a result of the Iran war, and a Reuters poll found that only 23% of Americans believe the Iran war made the country stronger, while Trump’s own approval rating now stands at just 30%.
And if starting reckless wars wasn’t enough, Trump’s grinding the gears of government, this week refusing to sign a bipartisan housing bill after it cleared both chambers of Congress, and staging a lunch-hour meltdown at Republican senators, shouting until the room went quiet. Trump said he would sign no legislation at all until Congress passed the SAVE Act - a bill designed to restrict ballot access before the 2026 midterm elections. Congressional dysfunction is now the mechanism, and - understanding this perfectly - the Freedom Caucus voted against the procedural measures that allow the House to conduct any business at all, and Speaker Johnson sent members home. The United States Congress simply stopped functioning this week - not because it failed to agree, but because one man decided that was the most useful thing it could do for him.
The V-Dem Institute, which tracks democracy globally, reclassified the United States this year as an electoral democracy for the first time in over fifty years, stripping it of its status as a liberal democracy, and indicating that the pace of American democratic dismantlement has no modern precedent. Trump is literally and demonstrably dismantling the United States from the inside out, yet no-one seems able to stop him. He leaves in his wake a constitutional infrastructure so deliberately corroded, and so comprehensively hollowed, that the question the next generation faces will not be who leads next but in what kind of structure does leadership now take place.
Where the seat of power in Britain, Australia and France seems to eject all who try to sit in, Trump sat on America’s throne and broke it, or at least revealed that it was broken already. What America needs next is not a better president, or a better occupant for the chair. Like Britain and France and Australia and the rest of the world, what’s needed is a different furniture arrangement entirely.
The Solution in the Sky
All at once right now, democracies across the globe are all displaying the same signs of structural failure, just in a range of varying different costumes. It’s not the leaders that are the problem - though some are highly problematic - but it’s the system itself revealing itself to be no longer fit for purpose. The architecture of national governance that has organised collective life for hundreds of years has reached the end of its operating capacity, and evidence of that is showing up everywhere right now, all at once, both above and below. The sky is not surprised by any of this - the system failure has been written above for a long time.
Neptune in Aries from now until 2038 is eroding the archetype of the heroic individual leader - the one who takes the wheel and turns the ship. Britain can’t find one who sticks. America can’t move the one it has. France cycles through them like a slot machine. Australia pours its faith into a seventy-year-old woman who’s had a gutful. All of that is Neptune in Aries dissolving the very idea that someone can be elected to national leadership and make things substantially better, not because individual human beings are uniquely deficient right now, but because the office itself no longer conducts the current it once did.
Pluto moving through Aquarius until 2043 is playing its part too, composting what has served its purpose and making the organic material available for what comes next. The last time Pluto transited Aquarius was in the late 1700s during the American Revolution and the French Revolution. The birth of the modern democratic nation-state - parliaments, prime ministers, constitutions, the separation of powers, the sovereign will of the people expressed through elected representation. Everything we have called democracy was born in the previous Pluto-in-Aquarius transit. What Pluto is doing now is returning to the scene of its own creation and metabolising the very structures it built last time. This is not a malfunction, but the cycle completing. The compost of the democratic nation-state is already being prepared, and what grows from this compost is not yet fully visible, but it’s already in the soil.
Uranus embarking on its journey through Gemini until 2032 is adding flavour to this moment as well. Uranus is the planet of sudden structural liberation, of paradigm rupture, of the reorganisation that happens faster than institutions can process. Gemini is the sign of networks, communication, plurality, horizontal connection - the hive mind, the information web, the ten thousand nodes speaking simultaneously without a centre. The last time Uranus transited Gemini in the 1940s it gave us radio broadcasting, early computing, and the first rough architecture of the information age. What it gives us now is artificial intelligence, decentralised networks, and the structural emergence of horizontal organisation as the dominant logic of human life. A network does not have a centre. A hive does not have a king. Uranus in Gemini is structurally incompatible with top-down command, so it’s rewiring us away from the pyramid and toward the web.
This next five years, according to the sky, will play out like a hollowing, as the structures we’ve come to rely on are increasingly burrowed out from within, leaving an empty shell that looks like governance but is really little more than a facade.
In 2032, the tide turns when Uranus and Saturn both enter Cancer. The revolutionary energy and the form-giving, structural energy both move into the sign of home - family, tribe, roots, the hearth, the local, the belonging-place - and this is when the revolution stops happening at the level of the nation-state and begins happening at the level of the street, the neighbourhood, the suburb, and the community garden. Saturn in Cancer means the new forms get built, and formalised, and made durable. It is a date-stamp on what we are feeling right now only as a thing glimpsed at the edge of imagination, but by 2032, it will start to take shape in the actual world.
And Chiron in Taurus until 2033 is the wound in material security becoming collective and undeniable. Food. Energy. Housing. Land. The distributed, slowly dawning understanding that the supply chains we were promised would keep us fed and warm and sheltered are fragile, dependent, and controlled by entities too large and too remote to care about our particular street. This wound is the pressure that drives people toward what comes next.
Shared gardens.
Shared energy grids.
Local food systems.
Community ownership of the commons.
The healing in Chiron’s domain is always communal. The healing is in the earth, and it belongs to everyone who tends it together.
The World That Comes Next
When we look up for an answer to find our way through this moment, the sky is not suggesting everything will just magically get better if we can elect a Democrat to the White House, or put some beloved figure into Downing Street, or announce Bluey as the new Prime Minister of Australia. Nor is the answer to stop Nigel Farage, and Pauline Hanson and Donald Trump at all costs, though we may need to do that too, along the way.
The answer isn’t to find a better leader to sit atop the pyramids. The sky says the time for pyramids is over - it’s time for a whole new architecture to emerge. What comes next, according to the sky, is not a top-down structure like every structure and system we’ve built over the last few centuries. What comes next will be a different shape entirely.
A hive.
A pod.
A network.
Small, human-scale communities with direct governance over the things that actually affect daily life - the street, the energy source, the food supply, the school, the shared resource. Decision-making that happens between people who can see each other’s faces, who know the particular piece of earth they share, who don’t need to defer to a distant capital and a figure behind a lectern to make the choice for them. The White House will not run this, and nor will Number 10 or Canberra. It will be run by us, at the scale at which human beings have always actually functioned best: the tribe, the village, the community that knows itself.
This is not a utopian fantasy. If you pay attention, you’ll see it’s already emerging in the gaps the old system is leaving open as it hollows. When mutual aid networks that formed in the COVID years refused to dissolve afterward, when community energy cooperatives multiplied quietly across regional Australia and rural England, when people began growing food in their front gardens and sharing it over the fence - these were not quaint gestures, but the first cells of a new organism learning to breathe.
The old system is not going to reform itself back to health. The door at Number 10 is going to keep revolving. The pool is going to keep turning green. The parliament is going to keep deadlocking. The rage is going to keep flowing into whoever promises to burn the whole thing down, because at least that feels like movement. And while all of that is happening noisily in the headlines, quietly, stubbornly, below the radar of the news cycle, the next thing is growing.
Our task is to realise that those who’ve come to rage at the system - the cynics and the grifters who seem intent on burning it to the ground - are actually doing the sky’s work in a round about way. This is the moment the sky has been pointing toward - guiding us to freedom via collapse. It won’t be gentle, or without grief, but it will free us from a set of structures that were never designed to take us where we are going.
The Age of the Mind gave us everything it had. The pyramid. The nation-state. The elected representative. The prime minister and the president and the figure on the lectern who was supposed to carry it for us. It was magnificent, in its way, but now it is done.
What the rising Age of the Heart asks is something harder and all at once closer. Not our vote, but our presence. Not our compliance, but our participation. Not our faith in the person at the top, but our trust in each other, at the level of the street, the garden, the shared meal, and the community that knows its own name.
The courage this moment asks of us is not the courage of the battlefield or the ballot box, but the quieter, stranger courage of turning toward each other in the rubble of the old thing and beginning to build without a blueprint or a mandate, and without waiting for permission from above.
The collapse we are living through is the sky doing its work - the composting is necessary, even when it’s ugly. But those tearing the old world down are not the real story right now - we are. We, the ones who show up and plant the thing. The ones who share the harvest, and look up from the noise long enough to notice that the person next to us is frightened too, and that frightened people building something together is how every new world has ever begun.
That’s the Age of the Heart. Not an idea, but a practice. Not a system, but a choice, made daily, by ordinary people in ordinary streets, that slowly, stubbornly, becomes the world.
The pyramid is coming down, and something is already growing in its shadow. We just have to be brave enough to let it bloom.
The Way From Here to There
So while the systems collapse and the pyramid comes down, the sky is not guiding us towards apathy - on the contrary, the sky is asking us to move forward wide awake. We should continue to vote like it matters, because it does, but while we take our vote seriously, we must also stop waiting for the vote to save us. That’s the real shift. Not disengagement, but re-engagement, at a totally different level.
We must start learning to look over instead of up, and ask not who is leading the country but who is on our street, in our suburb, in our community, and what do they need, and what do we have, and where is the gap between those two things that we could fill together without asking anyone’s permission.
We should grow something - and it doesn’t have to be much. A tomato plant on a balcony is a political act right now - a quiet declaration that our food does not have to travel ten thousand kilometres through a corporate supply chain before it reaches us. A shared garden with three neighbours is the beginning of a food system. A community that knows how to feed itself is harder to frighten.
We should show up where the services have failed because the systems housing them are hollowing from within. Stop waiting for the government to fix the thing the government has stopped being able to fix, and find the people doing it anyway, in the gaps, with their own hands, and stand in solidarity next to them.
We should start building the local. The community energy cooperative. The neighbourhood tool library. The street WhatsApp group that actually talks about something real. The mutual aid network that never quite disbanded after COVID because someone quietly understood that what had formed was too valuable to lose. None of this is small. All of this is the thing.
We must stop performing our politics primarily upward - at leaders, at screens, at the distant theatre of parliament - and start performing it laterally, toward each other. The person next to us is the constituency that matters now. The street is the parliament. The shared meal is the policy.
We must accept the fact that nobody is coming, and that’s not despair - that’s the invitation. The age that is ending was built on the belief that power lives at the top and flows down to us, but the age that is beginning is built on the understanding that power lives here, between us, and always did. We just outsourced it for a few centuries to see what would happen. And now we know.
The sky is asking us to take our power back, not in rage, but in relationship. Not by burning the old thing down, but by building the new thing so well, and so warmly, and so undeniably, that the old thing simply becomes irrelevant. That’s how every new world has ever actually arrived - not announced from a lectern, but grown from the ground.
We are not walking toward destruction, friends, even though most days right now it certainly looks like it. We are walking toward ourselves - toward the scale of life we were always meant to live, and the relationships we were always meant to tend, and the ground we were always meant to know. The collapse is overwhelming loud, but let that not be what takes our attention - let us turn our eye to what’s blooming quietly beneath our feet and welcome it as it takes shape. We must not fear the collapse, no matter how loud it gets, because it is only through collapse that something new has room to grow. This is the way. This is the path to our freedom. We will walk it hand in hand, and cross this bridge between worlds together.
If you need a place to land after reading this, or if you want some support as we navigate the days ahead, come join me in the Daily Lighthouse. I’ll be there, each day with you, or if you prefer it in an audio listening format, head over to the Resonance Room.
See you in the stillness, friends.
Onwards!
I'm so happy your weekly wrap-up is back it's the only news I enjoy reading 🙂 and yes definitely no-one is coming to save us and hubs, pods and community projects are the only way forward.....funnily, locally to where I live it was the extreme political ends of the spectrum (Greens and Restore) who arranged to turned up to the demo to save our local post office; when people work in communities face to face that's when the political ideologies drop away.....thanks Wizard, for reinforcing my hope! 💜