WOT. ME. WORRY ?

[WOT. ME. WORRY ? @swallocks64]

@adam7485 Your choice, don't buy ?

[WOT. ME. WORRY ? @swallocks64]

@AubreyUnited @SkyNews He has a mental illness. Get it right.

[WOT. ME. WORRY ? @swallocks64]

@AFCJaccy Going down about a week before the tackle. Cheats.

[WOT. ME. WORRY ? @swallocks64]

@labourpress So there is a Labour candidate then? And I thought you were running scared.

[Christian @InTheTrenchesUK]

The Racial Identity Fraudster Who Calls You "Jobless Yobo"

Meet Benjamin John Butterworth. Age 33. The wokest man in Britain. And quite possibly the most shameless.

Let us begin with the lie that defines him. In 2012, while studying at the London School of Economics, young Benjamin decided he wanted to attend the NUS LGBT Conference. But there was a problem. The "Black delegate" spaces were reserved for actual Black students. Benjamin Butterworth, born in Macclesfield to white parents, raised in affluent Alderley Edge, educated at Wilmslow High School, was not eligible.

So he declared himself Black.

An open letter from actual LSE students survives. "It has come to our attention that you are currently occupying the Black delegate space," they wrote. "This came as a surprise because, to our knowledge, you have never previously self-defined as Black." When challenged by Black students who identified him as "clearly a caucasian man," Butterworth allegedly blocked their objections. His justification? He claimed to have a Black stepmother.

Let that settle. The man who now lectures Britain on identity, who shuts down women's concerns about self-identification, who calls skeptics "bigots" on live television, allegedly stole a place reserved for minority students by declaring himself a racial category he manifestly is not. The hypocrisy is almost artistic. He who polices others' identity conversations exploited racial identity categories for personal advancement.

But this is merely the opening act.

Butterworth's upbringing is the stuff of psychological case studies. Born to a teenage heroin-addicted mother and a "violent, addicted" father, he was "saved" by his grandmother and whisked from a Macclesfield council estate to Alderley Edge. One of Britain's wealthiest postcodes. The move was complete. The accent softened. The privilege absorbed. And like many rescued from working-class reality, he developed a performative contempt for those who remained.

This contempt found its perfect expression in August 2025. During a GB News discussion about patriotic flag-raising in Tower Hamlets, Butterworth looked into the camera and called flag-waving Britons "jobless yobos" and "flag-waving losers." The working-class patriots he sneered at were, of course, the same demographic his grandmother had lifted him away from. The transformation was complete. The council estate boy had become the metropolitan sneerer.

His media career is a monument to this sneer. He appears as a "rent-a-quote" left-wing commentator, though "commentator" flatters him. He is more accurately described by his own critics as a "poundshop Owen Jones" or, more bluntly, an "absolute muppet." His contributions are not analysis. They are performance. The theatrical leftism of a man who has never risked anything.

Watch him on television. The pattern is unmistakable. When challenged, he does not argue. He insults. He told Dan Wootton, now one of the most successful independent media figures on television, "I think you're stupid" on live television. He branded a guest a "bigot" during a gender-neutral debate, reducing discourse to a "screaming match." He called Martin Armstrong an "arrogant swine." This is not courage. This is the tantrum of a man who has never been told no.

His political career within Labour reveals the same bureaucratic manipulation. As Chair of London Young Labour in 2016, Butterworth released a statement demanding Jeremy Corbyn's resignation without committee approval. When challenged, he refused to retract it. "This is clearly the position of the committee," he declared, despite having never polled them. The result? A formal Letter of No Confidence from his own party members. Even Labour activists, not known for their discernment, recognized the stench of entitlement.

Then there is Liverpool, September 2016. Following the Labour Party conference, Butterworth was involved in a physical brawl outside the Walkabout bar on Concert Square. His account: assaulted by door staff, kicked in the head, left bleeding. The venue's account: Butterworth attacked staff members and required restraint. No charges were filed. The truth remains contested. But the pattern is suggestive. The man who calls others "jobless yobos" and "stupid" finds himself in physical altercations when his performative righteousness meets reality.

Now he mocks Nigel Farage. "He's got to do this day in, day out for 6 weeks, on his own, to defeat a bin," he sneered on Twitter. The contempt is revealing. Farage campaigns because the Uniparty has vacated the field. He does the retail politics Butterworth cannot comprehend from his Guardian-approved commentary perch. And Butterworth, who has never knocked on a door that wasn't already open to him, who has never won an election or even contested one seriously, finds this hilarious.

The bin, Benjamin, is all your side dared to send. That is not Farage's shame. That is yours.

Benjamin Butterworth is the final form of a particular British disease. The rescued child who resents the rescue. The privileged commentator who performs working-class solidarity while sneering at working-class patriots. The racial identity fraudster who polices others' identity conversations. The bureaucratic manipulator who accuses others of anti-democratic behavior. The violent altercation participant who poses as victim.

He is not a journalist. He is a cautionary tale. The wokest man in Britain, who once declared himself Black to steal a place from actual Black students, now declares himself arbiter of all that is just and right. Keep tweeting, Benjamin. Keep announcing your indefatigability. The dossier is complete. And your credibility is not.

[WOT. ME. WORRY ? @swallocks64]

@ElstonGunn87 @Christoph0512 Wednesday have been punished. You can't just avoid debt by moving the club. Everyone would do it and go into administration with the original group.

[WOT. ME. WORRY ? @swallocks64]

@ElstonGunn87 @Christoph0512 So wind the company up and nothing is owed.

[WOT. ME. WORRY ? @swallocks64]

@Wiggy05 @callyowl @TWWcast Doesn't mean you have to buy it either.

[WOT. ME. WORRY ? @swallocks64]

@ElstonGunn87 @Christoph0512 So Chansiri could have just created a new company, transferred the club to that and all the debt left behind is forgotten about? Why doesn't everyone do it if it's not a problem.

[WOT. ME. WORRY ? @swallocks64]

@p____67 Remind us, who did you beat? You see, that's how it works. You beat other teams and progress to the next round.

[WOT. ME. WORRY ? @swallocks64]

@HelenGrantMP You people are really too stupid to realise the public are sick of the constant criticism of Reform. You have nothing to give that we are interested in. No answers to the shit we are in, up to our necks. GROW UP AND DO YOUR JOB !

[WOT. ME. WORRY ? @swallocks64]

@ZackPolanski Grown any tits lately.

[WOT. ME. WORRY ? @swallocks64]

@MikeTappTweets I'm surprised you even know how to spell service.

[WOT. ME. WORRY ? @swallocks64]

@AshBlade07 @TomMatthews_ Everybody’s wank at the Lane.

[WOT. ME. WORRY ? @swallocks64]

@EdwardJDavey @RosemaryKirk Dickhead. You are by the worst and most useless MP in this country. A slug would be more use.

[WOT. ME. WORRY ? @swallocks64]

@BladesBall And after 26 years we still have more Premier League points than you. With all the shit we've been through you still waaaaaaaaay behind.

[WOT. ME. WORRY ? @swallocks64]

@ToxicGoonerHQ @cenkuygur Yep, just change the rules for the Yanks or they may cry.

[WOT. ME. WORRY ? @swallocks64]

@cenkuygur Tell us you don't understand football, why don't you!

[WOT. ME. WORRY ? @swallocks64]

@KerrieRoebuck @scfcsmilerguy @ChampionshpTalk Conmen

[WOT. ME. WORRY ? @swallocks64]

@sarah__british "I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT FOOTBALL" she cried.