The Generations Lost to Runaway House Price Inflation

The young are being preyed upon, my friends, by the pernicious dragon of the housing market. A beast of brutal, untamed capitalism, that unfurls its leathery wings and sets flame to the dreams of an entire generation. The chance to own a piece of this sceptered isle, once a rite of passage, now hangs in the balance, made scarce by the scaly claws of runaway house prices. The housing ladder, an emblem of upward mobility, is rapidly transforming into a grim pyramid scheme for the millennials and Gen Zs, built upon by the delusions of affordability.

This mythical beast - house inflation, a dragon by any other name, feasts upon the aspirations of our progeny. Its insatiable appetite fuelled by speculative gluttony and government negligence. The so-called homes that are available to our youth are laughably out of reach, both in price and in the human spirit's capacity to hope. They may as well seek a mortgage for Buckingham Palace or aspire to become a leaseholder of the Tower Bridge.

Welcome to the Jungle, dear lads and lasses. An era where the young must play Orpheus to their own Eurydice, hoping to rescue the specter of home-ownership from the underworld, but inevitably losing it at the last step. Isn't it a hoot, this economic comedy of errors? A laughter track playing to the tragicomic symphony of unattainable real estate.

Consider, if you will, the bedraggled figure of a graduate, her degree in hand, stepping onto the battlefield that is the housing market. She is told, repeatedly, to pull herself up by her bootstraps, but alas, those straps are made of sand, crumbling at the slightest tug. For how can she leverage herself upon a ladder that seems to perpetually recede into the cloud-draped heavens? It's an Escher-esque conundrum, a relentless staircase that promises ascension but delivers only vertigo.

The property developers, those joyous purveyors of dreams, sit in their gilded palaces, stoking the fiery breath of our dragon. They peddle their mass-produced, dollhouse-sized apartments with the panache of a seasoned snake oil salesman. Why, they argue, should the young be dissuaded when they can claim a piece of England for a mere six-figure sum, just enough to purchase a few square feet of a cramped and soulless metropolis?

To say this trend is a crisis is to speak with the understatement of a British butler. It is nothing less than a fundamental redefining of the socio-economic structure of our society. The concept of home-ownership, once the foundation of adult life, is becoming as antiquated as the dial-up internet or a politician's promise.

The housing dragon has grown too large, too powerful, fed by the avarice of corporations and the ineptitude of the state. It's time to slay the beast, to reclaim the lands it has scorched with its inflationary flames. To promise the youth of today a chance at ownership, at a home, is to offer them a stake in the future of this country.

Let's not mince words. This is a battle of David and Goliath proportions, and the young are armed with little more than a slingshot of hope against the monstrous titan of housing inflation. But lest we forget, it was David who emerged victorious, against all odds. So, arm yourselves, dear friends, with resolve and resilience. For only in challenging the beast, can we hope to tame the fire.

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