Singing Happy Songs Amongst the Flames

After the bluff and wonder, we were wrong all these years. “The people will taste the Eton crop on their backs and chase the bastards off at the first opportunity”. Clearly they won’t.

I think a lot about what is happening around me. I think too much and I often wish that I was just stupid. Nuclear family, mortgage and bills just within reach with a bit of overtime and a lot of arse kissing, holiday in the same place every year, watch your kids reach a peak of loathing you until they crumble and become you. Read the Mail and dutifully hate all those you are expected to hate. Sex once a month, on top, looking away, over quickly and the dash to the bathroom. You talking about popping back down for the last 20 minutes of Match of the Day. Her dreaming about an axe planted in the back of your head and running away with the kids. Just don’t think. Let it wash over you. Drown in being a wage slave, inequality, exploitation, chained to the system. Sacrificing your life to make the privileged actually feel privileged. “Look at Prince George in his 1930s Enid Blyton fancy dress. Cute. Ignore the empty eyes. They all do that”.

Isaac Newton thought a great deal as well only with considerably more effect. On occasion, he would awake and swing his legs out of the bed. Then something would occur to him and he would dwell. Get lost in it and sit totally still staring through the wall for an answer. His servant would leave him there until night came and then would swing him, still focussed on another place, back into his bed. I am not Isaac Newton. He was a genius. I’m an angry gobshite who knows only that the closer you look at the world then the more sinister and complicated it becomes.

See yourself as one pinhole in a collage of billions. All on a massive canvas viewed and controlled by a tiny number of people. Hostages to the greed of those who will never be able to spend all that they have acquired. What have they done ? Have they gassed us ? Have they made a deal with the Devil ? Why do millions upon millions of people just shrug and put up with this shit ?

Just over a month ago, the Capitalist media played a brilliant game of scare, lie and threaten. One of their biggest anthems was ‘but if we don’t all roll over and pull our cheeks apart, all the big rich banks will think that we don’t love them and they will run away’. A month later, Tory government dutifully nodded through, HSBC are flying out anyway. People losing their jobs. Not the big bonus, certain background, people. The little people who worked through school and maybe a little beyond. Who joined on a pittance and got a pittance more each year. Who do the ‘zany’ Comic Relief stuff because it may get them noticed. Who come in when they are sick and who keep smiling and loving the company until they are passing blood. They will lose their jobs. Not to make the business more efficient. To squeeze out a little more for the shareholders. Another holiday home, another 20 grand towards Ophelia’s wedding, more buy to let property. Again, the little pinholes squeezing up to make room for more profit.

We shrug again, shake our heads and we feel a little colder. The mouthpieces of the ruling financial class are already spewing fantasy. Its our own fault. We went on and on about greedy bankers and their bonuses and we made them feel unwelcome. We created a negative culture for bankers. A more appropriate level of negativity may be machine gunning them into the tarmac and flying them out in binbags.

The next few years will be a meltdown. An escalation to Hell. Unless we organise and fight back of course and, on any meaningful scale, that simply isn’t happening but it will. If I didn’t believe that, I would poison the cat and go into the Mersey. People aren’t yet ready to resist. We are in an awkward corridor between pointless, peaceful demonstrations and active resistance. Masses of people want change but without any unpleasant fuss. They still believe in cheerful marches, a ballpond for the kids, Billy Bragg singing 300 year old goat shavers ballads of resistance, Labour politicians dressing down and smiling awkwardly whilst their advisers steer them clear of anything too radical. That’s it for the year, done my bit, let nobody claim my voice was not raised.

They love that. They will let you do that forever. Its burning shops, angry mobs and eloquent leaders they worry about. Its big companies getting angry and going elsewhere. People jeering the Queen, screaming at the injustice and not buying souvenirs anymore. Whether you like it or not. Its as inevitable as a shite Mumford and Sons album.
The kicking we are getting will reach a stage at which, as one, we will have to realise that this is fatal if we don’t get up and start punching back. The hiding your head in the telly option is going.

So stop thinking or let the poison knock you out. You are living on the verge of the greatest battle in modern history. Pick a side.

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