Tag: Anarchist

Boris Johnson’s Dystopian New Jerusalem

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As Boris Johnson talks about building a ‘New Jerusalem’ I remind myself of any dystopian story I have ever read. I’m not sure I want to be part of his New Jerusalem. Anyone professing to be the architect of a new society makes me instinctively cautious. Someone with his track record for incompetence and general indifference to the wellbeing of the populace is someone whose Jerusalem reeks of inevitable failure. These are the type of people who will hoard the lifejackets as the ship sinks, or who in actuality are already hoarding the lifejackets as the system sinks.

I haven’t been getting caught up in cries of fascism and autocracy by the state but this lot in power at the moment are not playing by the rules of old. If they were anarchists decentralising and creating community I would be fine with it but when they’re right wing wannabe despots in the making it is more concerning. Teachers can’t teach about anti-capitalism anymore. The police have been given draconian powers to enforce their will on the people. Powers are rarely given up once they’ve been received. The opposition exists in name only. There are real and concerning things going on in the UK at present. Once we leave the EU this power grab will only be intensified.

Talking of the ‘opposition’, only twenty of them, one of whom was Jeremy Corbyn, voted against the Covert Human Intelligence Sources Bill. Officially this “authorise(s) conduct by officials and agents of the security and intelligence services, law enforcement, and certain other public authorities, which would otherwise constitute criminality”. In layman’s terms the state and it’s enforcers are now above the law. Effectively this allows the government a license to kill whoever it deems a danger to it’s existence. The US and Canada have similar laws but they specifically exclude certain crimes like murder and torture. This one rushed through Parliament omits such exclusions. Remarkably the bill extends these powers to various government bodies such as The Competition and Markets Authority, The Environment Agency, The Financial Conduct Authority, The Food Standards Agency and The Gambling Commission.

The bill allows for state actors to break the law in three scenarios – in the interests of national security, for the purpose of preventing or detecting crime or of preventing disorder and in the interests of the economic well-being of the United Kingdom. What is clear from this though is the ambiguity involved. ‘Preventing disorder’ seems as all encompassing as ‘breach of the peace’, what exactly is classed as disorder? And someone can be killed to protect the economic interests of the UK. Does this mean I can sign up for the police and kill the leaders of Brexit? But seriously if we think of the new teaching rules on sugar coating capitalism and then this, it’s clear who and what this mob represent.

Former Tory leader and Brexit Minister David Davis and former Tory Chief Whip Andrew Mitchell have even called the government out on there being a “whole series of weaknesses in (the bill), which at the end of the day will impinge on innocent people” and on the dangers of “granting such powers in a free society” respectively. Human rights groups such as Amnesty International and Unions such as Unite have also heavily cautioned about the dangers involved with passing such legislation. As ever the media have been silent. Not even a mention of Keir Starmer whipping his MPs into abstaining against the vote. Love or loath Corbyn, at least he was a man of integrity and one who actually acted as a real opposition. Like I said, I don’t usually get caught up in genuine despotic outcries but this is concerning and this is a system looking increasingly less capable of maintaining and standing up for itself by the day.

BR#9 – Accidental Death Of An Anarchist

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Another new playwright has crossed my path. Dario Fo wrote Accidental Death Of An Anarchist in response to the 1969 death of an anarchist in police custody Milan. He had been accused of the bombing of the Agricultural Bank which had resulted in the deaths of sixteen people. While in custody he, according to the official account at the time, committed suicide by jumping out of the window on the fourth floor of the police headquarters. Ten years later three fascists were convicted of the crime, some of whom were agents of the secret police, and in court proceedings it was determined that the major actors behind the bombing had been senior ministers and Generals who were condemned before being acquitted. The state once more protected it’s own while allowing those at the bottom who actually committed the act itself to go down for it. The play was written prior to this final outcome and was partly in response to a dearth of reporting from both sides of the political spectrum, the right-wing for obvious reasons and the Communists because they’re little more than power hungry political stooges themselves.

The play is set one week after the event and Fo uses the character titled Maniac to highlight the ridiculous nature of the police account of events, their incompetence and as a vehicle to get his political message across. I’m sure there’s a name for this type of character in a play but I forget what I learnt in school. While serious and dry approaches to storytelling always have their place, there is a particular way satire manages to express an idea and create an understanding in the audience. It is more accessible, despite it being on a serious topic comedy allows people to take it in without feeling they need to immediately react in a serious manner. Fo does this expertly and through his use of the Maniac manages to create a situation in which the police expose their own corruption and the left wing reporter her own hypocrisy.

To quote the Maniac in one of his more lucid moments;

“Why not ask yourself, Miss Feletti, what sort of democracy requires the services of dogs such as these? I’ll tell you. Bourgeois democracy which wears a thin skin of human rights to keep out the cold, but when things hot up, when the rotten plots of the ruling class fail to silence ours demands, when they have put the population on the dole queue and squeezed the other half dry with wage cuts to keep themselves in profit, when they have run out of promises, and you reformists have failed to keep the masses in order for them; well then they shed their skins and dump you, as they did in Chile*, and set their wildest dogs loose on us all”

*While events in Chile happened after the original was written, the text I read from was translated and adapted in the 1980s hence the reference.

The Idler

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A weight becomes ether, the mind is free,
The Idler will no longer come to me.

I would have liked to have written more lines but I couldn’t think of a third. I cancelled my subscription to a bi-monthly magazine called The Idler. As previously hinted this was a weight on my mind; to cancel or not. I enjoyed the magazine, it had some very interesting articles, I have read a great book on beekeeping that they recommended, listened to some new music they reviewed. While I don’t have the most hectic of lives it reminded me sometimes to put my feet up and enjoy the liberty of such a moment. The editor and co-creator is a man called Tom Hodgkinson who wrote a book called How To Be Idle, my reading of which led to a darkly amusing moment while at university. I lay on the sofa prior to a drinking session in the last year of a course I made the minimal effort in, reading this book as my housemate came in from one of her two jobs before going in to university to study. Let’s say the moment wasn’t lost on her although the relevance and my understanding of a true idler life seemingly was on me. It saddens me then to not continue my subscription but I am doing so for two reasons. Firstly I’m not around enough to actually read it and I suspect may spend a chunk of this coming year abroad again, and secondly it is a question of whether I relate to the perceived target audience. There is something middle-aged, successful in their field and southern English about the magazine and while I have nothing against any of those things, there is something about them I don’t feel I can connect with and relate to.

I accept I’m not middle-aged but that doesn’t mean I haven’t read and enjoyed things aimed at that market. The southern English thing relates to the type of southern English; comfortable, village life, gardens, good weather, kids in grammar school type of thing. That sounds horribly middle-class, but it isn’t entirely that type of magazine. Tom Hodgkinson is a self-declared anarchist with many of the articles supporting his ideals, although in a lovely soft type of way over the stereotype typically portrayed. I’m almost scared to admit it but this type of life is desirable in many ways and I’m sure a lovely time is had by all. Saying that though it isn’t me now and I’m not actively chasing it even though I don’t doubt I would enjoy it. Finally the successful part is a strange one because it isn’t aimed at super wealthy successful business men but Tom Hodgkinson is in his early fifties now and his magazine gives off the air of someone that age who is happy and has achieved what they set out to achieve. While I’m not unhappy in life now, I am not necessarily happy with my current lot either, and having stopped wanting to simply achieve endless travel, am yet to find success in many of my new desires. It is not uncommon to read things by, to copy or fill our lives with things by those we want to emulate. Are we being true to our own story if we merely try to replicate another’s, or am I misunderstanding what it is to be inspired.

The point of all this is just that it was interesting that a magazine I enjoyed could represent all these things that clearly I am rejecting. Perhaps it was aimed at a niche I secretly want to be a part of and my current existence makes it too hard to endure. It is interesting really because we fantasise so much about what we want, where we want to live, the work we want to do, the types of people we want to hang out with but it’s all such an illusion. We have no idea what the reality of anyone else’s life is, people suffer in private. When we fantasise enviously about being another person, which is what it is, we forget to be ourselves and enjoy whatever cool things are going on in our own lives.

Thank you Idler. I really enjoyed you, got a lot from you, hope to revisit you again one day; but right now, you’re just not me and I’m too busy being me to be you.

Bohemians Brewdog FC

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I’m writing this on the way to the football. We’re off to see my new favourite club Bohemians, or more precisely Bohemians U10’s. My little cousins are all crazy about sport as all young Irish lads seem to be and three of them play within the clubs system. They gave me an official hat about a month ago and a scarf now for Christmas so I’m decked out ready to support the boys.

The only issue for me of course is that I have had to switch my Dublin club allegiance from Shamrock Rovers who wear the same colours as my beloved Glasgow Celtic and who I always for some reason felt were a bit more of the rebel club but I’ve got over it pretty easily. Throw in the fact Bohemians wear red and black, which are incidentally anarchist colours, and following the lads and supporting their team becomes a lot easier. Bohemians are also fan owned I think which is exactly what I want to hear. Fits in perfectly with the red and black anarchist the already self-confessed romantic in me is trying to push.

It’s now six hours later…and we lost heavily. My little cousin Marco, who now goes by the name Marcolinho, was in goal for the first half and he did alright made a few decent saves, centre back second half and a made some good tackles and blocks. The problem was the U10’s had too many call offs as so close to Christmas and they had to recruit a lot of U9’s and seemingly there is a huge difference in size between the two ages. Quite enjoyed cheering him on though and could easily imagine myself being quite a loud combustible father on the sidelines given the chance. We subsequently found ourself in the new Brewdog pub by the Royal Canal Dock, which fed my barge desire even further, and which was worth a visit as my dad and myself have a couple of shares and therefore a massive five percent off. I imagine it’ll be a popular place come next summer. But that’ll do for now, I’m going for another drink, before seeing my cousin DJing, isn’t Christmas tough.

A Three Point Piece

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I suspect I’m going to attempt to talk about too many things in this piece, three to be precise, but I’ll try anyway. I should probably stop wasting words telling you this though. To start with I feel it necessary to be critical of yesterdays piece. My issue is that there seems to be a certain immaturity to how I write about politics, and most likely when I talk about it too. This is evidenced I feel by an excessive amount of rhetoric and the danger with this is that not only is it, in my eyes at least, a sign of immaturity but is also a sign of a bad argument, a lack of understand an argument suitably in depth and also perhaps a sign of being a bit of an idiot. I hope I’m not an idiot but I know theres a good chance I would accuse others of such things were they to write in such a manner. Ultimately I’m not happy with it. I could have written it better, made better points and made them in a more evolved way. The problem with not publishing these yet is that I am unable to get your (constructive) feedback, but if anyone ever reads back on these I would love to know what you have to think.

The second thing and third actually were inspired by my avoiding writing this and procrastinating on facebook. Greece is burning again and having lived there for three years, give or take, on and off, I feel a connection to it and a sadness at the continuing trauma that is the Greek tragedy. I may have lived in Exarchia, the anarchist run neighbourhood in the centre of Athens, but it truth I never really integrated and always lived fairly anonymously within it. The new right-wing government has seemingly followed through on it’s threats and has spent the last six months closing down squats. Tonight is the eleventh anniversary of the murder of a 15 year old boy by a police officer, who was coincidentally let out of prison a couple of months back, so expect the streets to be a war zone once more. I love Greece but it’s run by dangerous morons, who are elected by scared morons. Nations seem to repeat events and behaviours throughout their history, Greeks have spent the last hundred years killing and suppressing each other. I said Greek tragedy, but perhaps it’s more of a black comedy. Just not for any of those involved.

And finally, a meme I quite like and thought worth mentioning. Quote ‘The deer isn’t crossing the road, the road is crossing the forest’. It is all about perspective and until we change our perspectives on how we view each other, the world around us and the natural world we are a part of we are going to continue missing the point. Missing the point of our own existence and dragging down the remnants of the harmony that we not only stopped seeing but refuse to see and seemingly have lost the ability to even comprehend anymore or ever again.

That is all.