Right, so Saudi Arabia's response to the NCC MASA being hit in the Red Sea and sustaining minor hull damage, with the crew unharmed and the vessel still able to continue its journey, was to resume bombing Yemen. Not a ship sunk. Not a crew killed. Not a port knocked out. A damaged vessel that kept moving, and then Riyadh decided the next step was to call in the air force. Just double down again, well, that’s bound to go well. As such, not long after, this was the view over Saudi Arabia's own coast. The Houthis had announced retaliation against Saudi oil facilities after their strikes on Hodeidah, and the Aramco complex at Jizan was then hit, with footage showing smoke rising from the site.

So there is no longer any question about whether the attack reached the Saudis. The Houthis will always respond in kind; frankly, I find it hard to believe anyone doubts that at this point. It did.

At Yanbu, where the Saudi East-West pipeline terminates, the Saudis' little back-door to get their oil around the Strait of Hormuz, as that is, the situation remains unclear. Saudi sources report that two ballistic missiles and a drone were intercepted before they could reach the oil facilities. The Houthis, however, assert that the site was actually hit. So Riyadh bombed Yemen, told the world a story about 'proportionate' action to protect shipping, and then had to scramble around its own oil ports when the boomerang it threw came back at high speed. Saudi Arabia's attempt to fix Yemen made the Houthi threat even bigger. Their oil escape route, which they were depending on, was suddenly part of the fight. So with one particularly stupid move, therefore, Riyadh managed to narrow its choices down to a selection of 'bad' and 'catastrophic ', with a side order of disaster. Top marks all round.

Right, so Donald Trump needed this war to look like a win, since nothing says "stable genius" quite like turning a bloodbath into a campaign ad. He bombed Iran, declared a ceasefire, and right away began selling the entire fiasco as quick, tidy, and a real bargain in American lives. Iran was supposedly shattered. The missiles were apparently vaporised. Victory secured. Mission accomplished, just without the aircraft carrier or the ridiculously large banner this time. Then four more US soldiers came home in flag-draped cases, and suddenly Trump's neat little victory story had a numbers problem. Cheap. Controlled. Practically a Black Friday doorbuster in the bloodshed aisle-get yours while supplies last. Then these four soldiers came home, stubbornly refusing to stay off the balance sheet like a bad debt Trump cannot write off. Trump stood at Dover and saluted them as they came off the plane. The White House honoured them. The Pentagon named them. And the following day, Trump counted them himself. Eighteen Americans dead, he said. Eighteen. Then somebody looked at the Pentagon's official total and found fourteen. Four people vanished from the number. Not from the White House tribute, which explicitly honoured four fallen service members. Not from the Department of War's own account, which named all four and said their deaths were related to Iranian aggression. Not from the flag-draped transfer cases Trump had just saluted at Dover. Just from the official Operation Epic Fury tally, which still stood at fourteen. Trump then publicly used the higher figure in his 23 July remarks, recorded and published by the White House. And while the Pentagon was still arguing over whether the dead belonged to one war, two wars, or just got lost in an Excel spreadsheet reshuffle, Trump was already waving his sabre and promising Iran a 'heavier dose'-because nothing says closure like another round of explosions. busy auditioning for Strongman of the Year.

He wants more war. He just cannot seem to remember how many Americans the last round killed. Minor detail, apparently, when you’re already ordering the next one.

Right, so the Houthis sent Saudi Arabia what amounts to a polite RSVP for the Red Sea fireworks, as if missile launches were just another part of the evening's schedule.

Tankers immediately began performing the maritime equivalent of a panicked three-point turn, much like learner drivers who suddenly spot the examiner.

Trump was asked about the situation and, in his usual style, declared he'd handle everything, since there is apparently no crisis so severe that Donald Trump cannot resolve it simply by announcing he already has.

Then the tanker the ENCELIA ended up with a front-row seat to the Red Sea's updated guest policy: BYOM-Bring Your Own Missile.

Saudi Arabia confirmed the attack. Confirmed the fire at the bow. Confirmed the crew had been left fighting it at sea.

Yemen claims it hit another tanker, the LAYLA too, but that's still awaiting confirmation at the time of writing.

Honestly, one Saudi-confirmed tanker fire is already enough to turn 'safe alternative route' into a rather unfunny joke.

They were warned, they just kept going.

And now Riyadh's plan to avoid Hormuz comes with a complimentary missile barrage at the finish line-collect your shrapnel on the way out.

So much for the 'safe' part.

Right, so Netanyahu’s government has just told Israel’s High Court: don’t force an independent October 7 inquiry before the election. Well whyever would that be then?

Let Israelis decide whether to put Netanyahu back in office first. Ask what went wrong under his government afterwards.

Vote first. Answers later.

That is the timetable Netanyahu wants. But putting it in writing may have been a colossal mistake, because his government has now handed every election rival the same brutally simple attack line:

Netanyahu wants your vote before you get the truth.

He has tried to shove the October 7 inquiry safely beyond polling day. Instead, he has dragged it straight into the campaign and turned his own court filing into an election trap.

That says more than a thousand government press releases ever could, and no one has even spoken yet.

Now Netanyahu's government has gone to Israel's High Court and essentially said, do not force an independent inquiry before the election.

Just put it in the political deep freeze and only bring it out once the votes are safely counted.

Right, so Saudi Arabia just walked away with the nuclear deal Israel assumed Trump was keeping in his oversized pockets until Riyadh decided to behave. Here's the short version: thirty years of American companies pushing reactors, tech, and nuclear parts to Saudi Arabia. No, Mohammed Bin Salman isn't getting a bomb in the mail or a shiny enrichment plant tomorrow morning, but the door is politely left open for future uranium enrichment and spent-fuel reprocessing once the paperwork fairy waves her wand. The deal is signed and sent to Congress for its usual rubber-stamping. Saudi Arabia gets the shiny framework now. Israel's much-hyped normalisation deal? Still missing, probably imaginary. That was the leverage. That was the glittering prize. Saudi Arabia wanted American nuclear toys, Israel wanted a Saudi handshake, and Washington was supposed to act like the strict parent making sure no one ate dessert before dinner. Trump has now tossed Riyadh their treat, no strings attached, not even a please or thank you. Israel's bit? That normalisation? Still waiting for delivery. Maybe check the lost property bin next to Trump's old promises. So Netanyahu gets a three-for-one headache here. Saudi Arabia now has a golden ticket to the same nuclear antics Trump swears are world-ending when Iran tries them. Israel’s big Saudi normalisation fantasy is still just that, a fantasy. A

Right, so by Pete Kegsbreath's own count, Donald Trump's Iran war has now cost the United States thirty-seven and a half billion dollars. That number? They can pull it out faster than a magician with a rabbit. Just look at the precision, decimal point and everything, as if the Pentagon's accountants are splitting atoms, not budgets. But ask one of Trump's top brass how many Americans have been wounded, and suddenly the arithmetic turns into interpretive dance. "Over a hundred," says US Ambassador to the UN Mike Waltz. Four hundred and eighty-two, says the official figure given to him in Congress, because he didn’t know. Just a minor rounding error, only a few hundred actual people lost in the Pentagon's version of Where's Wally. And while Trump's team is busy playing Guess Who with the casualty list, Israel's finance minister is out explaining why Israel is in absolutely no rush to join the carnage this time, because, according to Bezalel Smotrich, America fighting Iran while Israel stays outside is about the best setup Israel could hope for. America pays. Israel first. But despite their decimal points and hard numbers when it comes to the money, that thirty-seven and a half billion is still just the tip of a very ugly iceberg.

Right, so Itamar Ben-Gvir, Israel's national security minister and the man politically responsible for its police and prison service, seems to have watched one Bond film too many and decided Israeli prisons were missing something.

Not more staff.

Not better oversight.

Crocodiles.

Yes, actual Nile crocodiles.

And before you roll your eyes and assume Ben-Gvir was just busy posting another foolish AI-generated meme for clicks, the Israeli Prison Service actually sent its top brass to the Hamat Gader crocodile farm on 1 January this year. There they were, peering into the enclosure, questioning the staff about crocodile management, and-because this is apparently real life-asking about the price of a Nile crocodile, as if they were bargaining at a strange pet shop.

The expert, likely questioning his life choices by this point, had to explain to the gathered officials that a crocodile is not, in fact, a poodle.

Right, so two Saudi oil tankers, carrying 2.7 million barrels of crude and all the optimism of a doomed road trip, were steaming towards China and India until they suddenly pulled a U-turn in the Red Sea as if they’d just remembered they left the iron on. Why? Because the Houthis spoke up and warned that Saudi-linked shipping was now fair game if it tried to head south through the Bab-el-Mandeb Strait, and the people in charge of these floating oil piñatas decided that tempting fate with millions of barrels was a spectacularly bad way to find out if Yemen was bluffing. Well we all know the Houthis don’t bluff don’t we? No missiles, no drama, just a warning, and suddenly it’s full speed north to Suez. Not slowed down. Not hovering nervously. Turned around. One of them was supposedly headed for China, except now China is in the rearview mirror, which, amusingly enough, is not how you win Employee of the Month in the world of oil delivery. Then the second tanker did the same thing. The oil hasn’t been sunk. It hasn’t been seized. But Saudi Arabia has lost those barrels from the trip they actually wanted. The ships were loaded at Yanbu, supposed to head south past Yemen and on to Asia, but now they’re sailing north toward Suez like someone just announced the apocalypse and told everyone to grab their coats and run for the exit. Saudi Arabia thought it had found a way around Iran. It hadn’t reckoned on what was waiting at the other end. And Donald Trump’s response to all this? Nothing has happened. Apparently. This is how the tanker reversals were reported. There it is. Loaded Saudi crude. Ships bound for China and India. Both now going the wrong way. The Xin Long Yang had around two million barrels aboard. The Rodos carried roughly another 700,000. They had loaded at Yanbu, pointed themselves south and set off toward Asia. Then Yemen announced a maritime embargo on Saudi-linked shipping, warning that vessels tied to the kingdom could be targeted in retaliation for the blockade and escalation against Yemen. Someone responsible for a lot of ship, crew, cargo and insurance paperwork decided that continuing south past Yemen was no longer worth the gamble. That’s what the Saudis have lost here. Not ownership of the oil. Not the barrels themselves. They’ve lost the journey they planned, the route they needed, the delivery timing they sold to customers who are now watching their oil head toward Europe instead. And Saudi Arabia can call that whatever it likes. Commercial caution. Temporary rerouting. Operational adjustment. Probably something with the word “resilience” once a consultant has got involved, but regardless of all of that, the ship is still pointing north.

Right, so Andy Burnham says Britain has just gone through the biggest political shake-up in forty years. Apparently all it took was a few new faces that actually weren’t that new at all. Forty years. Thatcher. Blair. Austerity. Brexit. The full Olympic relay of national self-sabotage. And now, it seems, all it takes to wipe away forty years of wreckage is Rachel Reeves and David Lammy hauling cardboard boxes out of Downing Street while the press corps counts them like it’s the royal family’s recycling day. Well, that’s that, then. Mission accomplished. Somebody fetch the bunting, there’s a new king in town, the King of the North. Except before the applause had even stopped echoing off the Downing Street cobbles, Burnham’s big electricity giveaway had already shrunk to the size of a supermarket loyalty card, Palantir was still nesting in the NHS like a stubborn parasite, Labour’s Israel links were still threaded through the Cabinet like athlete’s foot, and Donald Trump apparently still had the keys to British airbases for his next round of fireworks. But hey, Reeves had left the building. So naturally, the entire old order must have packed up and gone with her, right? Some people have gone. That’s true. Reeves is out. Lammy is out. Several Starmer loyalists have been cleared away. I’m not going to pretend that didn’t happen, because I don’t need to. The trick is getting everyone to stare only at the people leaving. Who got sacked? Who looked furious? Who lost the ministerial Jag? Which faction won? Westminster spent the day treating the Cabinet like football transfer deadline night, while the real question sat in the corner without even a cup of tea. Who still has access? Which contracts remain? Which foreign-policy commitments survived? And what exactly has Burnham changed here?

Right, so Israel has torched millions on a US influence operation that includes telling Americans that the starving children, shattered buildings, and eyewitness footage coming out of Gaza might all be some elaborate ruse. Nothing to see here, really. Move along. Don't trust any of that, says the advert. It might all be a coordinated propaganda effort and it’s not like Israel would ever do such a thing is it? Here's a right wing mouthpiece. Here's a hospital. Here are tunnels. Here's Trump. Here's Netanyahu. Here's the word PEACE in letters large enough to be spotted from the Moon. And then, right at the bottom, once the music has done its work and the messaging has been pushed into your head, comes the bit they hoped you wouldn't read, but that by law they had to tack on.

Distributed by Clock Tower X LLC on behalf of the State of Israel. Israel paid for an advert warning Americans about propaganda, then literally signed off on the propaganda at the bottom. Honestly, you could hardly script it any better. Here’s a figure for you, and no, this one thirty-second advert did not cost fifteen million dollars. That is the reported scale of money the Clock Tower received through the wider operation, not the cost of this particular advert itself. Fifteen million dollars to glue a fake moustache onto Israeli government propaganda and hope nobody notices the Tel Aviv accent peeking out from underneath. A king's ransom blown on a disguise, only to walk into the masquerade with a massive “Hello, My Name Is: Israel” sticker on your chest for good measure.