Hate Club
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Hate Club
Narrated by:
Lucy Brown
Buy Now for £18.99
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Narrated by:
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Lucy Brown
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By:
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Lucy Brown
About this listen
A gonzo romp through Britain’s political underbelly, Hate Club is a bloodstained autopsy of the radical left and right.
Caught between junkie messiahs, violent zealots, and a media desperate for monsters, Lucy becomes a useful idiot for everyone with a cause. From slick studio shoots to coke-fuelled afterparties, from rallies to vicious rifts, this darkly comic memoir exposes how idealism curdles into corruption, and how those who claim to fight hate often feed it the most.
"If you’re looking for a 'I joined the far right and I regret it' book, this is not it."
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Then, in my inbox, I have Lucy Brown. I only knew her from seeing her at the "Day for freedom" event where, it was clear to anyone who was there, she ran the show. The event was a success right up until it wasn't. It got ugly and looked from where I was standing that the mouthy muslim fellow had been lured into a trap with Lucy as a dupe stuck in the middle.
No one believed her side of the story at the time. But I was there and saw what I saw. I was willing to hear her side of the story. So I offered to make friends with her and gave her the benefit of the doubt. We have been pen pals ever since. The sequel to the story in this book is such a turnaround in fortunes you wouldn't believe it was a true story. But it gets a lot worse before it gets better.
So, before reading it, I know what is in this book. I followed it at the time from what was put out and I had heard all about it from someone who was there. I was sure that a clique of YouTubers were carving it up amongst themselves. I was right. And they were doing it over a line of cocaine, a nod and a wink.
What I got from this book was a realisation that Lauren Southern ended up getting raped by an evil man because someone feckless put her in harms way. And how does Mr Lennon know Mr Tate? Mr Tate knows about Mr Lennon's cocaine hobby. He knew his secret and could just reel him in with the promise of money and mutual silence about the powder back in the day.
See, this is why so few are strong enough to make a real difference. Too many of them are owned by the man who can tell the world all of their secrets. Their dealers and their pimp friends.
None of those chancer kids, Lucy, George or Caolin signed up to be put in the company of dangerous working class wiseguys. They do not have the training to resist it nor did they go to the right schools to learn it. They know nothing of working class atrocity. Yet they thought they were brilliant. That abject failure to keep Lauren Southern, a kid of about 22, safe from monsters should be an endless source of shame for Mr Lennon. That's what lingers. The fecklessness and the wide eyed enthusiasm/naivety that enabled it.
For Lucy, this is a confession. Her part in the building of a cult of personality. Her failure to walk away from ruddlerless and abusive leaders. But she stayed "loyal" and was still fed to the mob. She did however, get a wildly disproportionate amount of the blame.
She got swept away in politics as a distraction only to find bad company on the left and bad company on the right. She picked the lesser of two evils. But she was still in bad company.
The story of the sequel is a 5 star listen.
Confessions of a good girl in bad company
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