July 21, 2005 by cosmoakacitizensmith
the left-wing g8 alternatives meeting looks interesting with a whole range of speakers talking, but i’m carried along with the vibe of the people i’m hanging out with. to hell with g8 alternatives, u have to pay for it and anyway, the world development movement meeting is free and has a similar line up of speakers!
i chat with a guy from cardiff about radical permaculture and the difficulty of owning land and developing it in a sustainable way in the uk. it’s the planning laws, people! it’s possible to pick up useful knowledge in these informal exchanges, sometimes more so than the big meetings.
as it happens i only hear one speaker. i didn’t catch his name but he was talking about “driving a stake through the heart of the world trade organisation.” he believed that only direct action to derail the wto on the scale of seattle in 1999 could actually bring about change.
now there’s a view u don’t hear on tv of a morning!
missed george monbiot, our great and mighty leader. actually, that’s an unfair jibe, i like his books, particularly age of consent.
i hear that at another meeting, ex-bbc journalist andrew gilligan – he who questioned the view that saddam hussein could attack britain within 45 minutes – walked into a room full of anarchists, despite their strict “no journalists” rule.
the place went ballistic, his bag and specs got snatched and he was bundled out the building. the size of the guy’s balls!
guess what i did next? i didn’t plan random acts of violence with a shadowy bunch of anarchist generals, i went to the pub. and got drunk. and hung out with my mates. and had a really good time.
all this when i should have been reflecting about the evils of capitalism and the injustice of global trade.
back at the camp there’s some classic hardcore punk courtesy of oi polloi. the place is pumping. by contrast there is some chilled out reggae happening in another field with planetman and the internationalz. from the land, angry spirits rise up along with fluffy mischievous ones.
or maybe it was the acid, crack and heroin cocktail i did after getting masked up, killing fifteen coppers and driving an syringe full of HIV into gordon brown’s temple. which is what anarchists do when they can’t find babies to impale on spikes.
wondering around the camp, i hear casual racism and casual classism. at an alternative gathering. this is bizarre. is this really no place to be middle class or american or both?
it is odd hearing american accents at meetings. i find myself flinching. i have to remind myself that it’s noam chomsky’s accent as well as george w.’s. racism is a cancer that strikes anywhere, anytime and in the strangest of situations.