Sunday, November 26, 2006

i'm a killer...

My cat was being cute today, spending a lot of time outside, lounging around, sleeping and playing with things in the ways that cats do.
I noticed that he was spending a lot of time staring at a particular spot in the ground near our malfunctioned outdoor dunny and reasoned that there was some kind of little animal he was waiting to catch and sure enough a little later my boyfriend noticed him lying in the grass lazily toying with a little field mouse.
The mouse was, of course, still alive but mortally wounded to the extent that, when picked up by the tail, a trickle of blood sprayed from its mouth.
We decided that it should be put out of its misery, even though neither of us had ever destroyed a mammal before, so I got a plastic bag and a brick...
When it was put in the bag it started squeaking, which was mildly disturbing so I quickly (and obviously too emphatically) smashed the mouse with the brick, completely pulverising it in the process. I used so much force that the mouse was turned into paste, a little bit of the red mush spewing out of the bag onto the concrete.

state (s)election

Just some rambling thoughts:
It was Victoria's state election yesterday and the Bracks Labor government won fyi, in case you hadn't heard and/or don't care much for Victorian politics.
It's strange. For several years I lived in denial and stubbornly voted for Labor despite the evidence to the contrary that, yes, they are just like the Liberal Party.
I then decided to vote Green, which I kinda thought was like a wasted vote.
Don't get me wrong, as far as political parties go I like the Greens. They're sincere. It's really quite strange. But voting for the Greens was, for me, effectively a way of saying, "I don't want to vote."

But what's the point in voting? Representative Democracy is a broken method of Government. The politicians voted in do not truly represent the people! Nor could they possibly ever do so. How could privileged people, bred to rule, living in luxury, ever know what life is like for a vast majority of the population? More importantly, Governments are in thrall with big business and are dictated to by them. etc. etc.
My belief is that Participatory Democracy is a far more favourable method of organisation. My fear is that the word 'organisation' here is code for government. It isn't necessarily, but it could be.
The other fear is that most people wouldn't be up for the changes that participatory democracy would demand. I think something at some later stage will force our hands. Need to prepare now...
Anyway, people talk about donkey voting in our compulsory voting system as a way of evading fines for not voting but this doesn't really accomplish much if you follow the link and read the definition of donkey voting (you should click on the link because it's interesting and the acrimonious tone of the discussion about people who buck the vote is quite amusing). But, if in future you really want to piss people off (which I'm not saying you do) then (illegally) sneak your ballot paper out of the polling station. This really fucks up the scrutineers et al who have to count all the ballots and search for the 'missing' one. This is duly noted. Hopefully stats are kept on the number of 'missing' ballots. Maybe it's occurred to someone that people are intentionally messing up the 'democratic' process, even in some little way.
Not that I'm endorsing this...

Saturday, November 18, 2006

wot a day

I've had a pretty full-on 24 hours.
As many Melbourne activists were in full swing protesting the G20 forum being held here, the police swooped on a couple of squats. Yesterday sometime they shut down the A Space Outside squat that had held a two day conference and I'm assuming was a space that intended to exist beyond the G20 conference (click here for a critique of ASO from Indy Media). It's possible that the police found some literature that mentions the recently set up The Wake squat, established about five weeks ago in Coburg. It was a squatted funeral home that had held a few fundraiser gigs and was hoping to run for at least a year. This was not to be as the police raided the venue and shut it down.
Let's be specific:
The police, at least thirty of them, smashed down the door when they were refused entry and charged into the home. They spread themselves throughout the house and monitored the eviction of the four anarchists living there. Many of the police were standing with folded arms, tut-tutting like disapproving parents, or standing outside smoking and clearly bored. Thirty! At least. I could not believe how excessive that was. I rocked up with my boyfriend and helped the residents move out. At one point I picked up a baseball bat and loaded it into a washing basket full of odds and ends whilst a couple of cops muttered something about needing to watch me. It was all surprisingly intimidating at the same time as it was sort of mundane.
Obviously there is a connection between the disbanding of 'radical' squats in Melbourne on Friday and the G20 conference that happens Saturday (today) and Sunday. Clearly an ineffectual measure by the state, however, because this did nothing to dampen the spirit and efforts of thousands of like-minded activists who protested the G20 today. My question is, where is the radicality when a G20 isn't happening? It's just not good enough. That's not to say that I think of myself as some kind of radical messiah.
Much more importantly, this morning my boyfriend woke up with a sharp pain in his lower back. The pain quickly escalated and whilst I and my flatmates dithered about, disregarding his wailing demands to be taken to a hospital, he vomited and writhed around in absolute agony. He was in the worst pain I think I've ever seen another person (andI've seen some pretty fucked up shit) and it was truly a distressing experience for everyone, although none more so than Leigh of course. I finally did the right thing, listened to him and demanded our friend and sometime chauffeur take him to a hospital and not a doctor's surgery, which took what seemed like an hour. We spent the whole day at St Vincent's Hospital and it turns out that Leigh had a kidney stone. Fortunately he passed it quickly, though not quickly enough, given that he was doped up to the eyeballs and beyond with morph and valium and still it took over an hour for the pain to subside. He was inconsolable, shouting swear words, moaning, writhing and gasping with pain. Many of the medical staff said that some women who've both given birth and had a kideny stone claim they would rather child birth. I suppose there's something positive at the end of a birthing experience, unlike passing kidney stones.
Hospitals are such strange environments: weird noises, weird people, fluoro
lighting and air conditioners, constant humming and illness in such extraordinary variety. So tired right now.
I hope he never has another kidney stone.
It's awful seeing someone I love in so much pain.

Sunday, November 05, 2006

the nature of makhno was ... irrepressible

It's the return of Captain Pus Head.
My cat Makhno got into a fight on Monday and when he returned home he appeared rather sore and subdued. His mood remained withdrawn for the week and my flatmate found some kind of little weird growth on the top of his head.
About five minutes after I inspected it, I noticed there was a little bit of stinking light brown pus oozing out of that spot on his head.
Naturally, I took him to the vet and $106 later, this was the result. The disinfectant ran over his face a little bit and the top of his head is all shaved and
wounded. His sparky personality has returned with a vengeance and he keeps trying to smooch and rub his crusty head against my face. Eewww.
Given how fucked up his head looks, I think his assailant must have looked like this fellow just above. Unfortunately, can't credit the slap up.
Leigh was really cute on my birthday. He came into the loungeroom weilding a muffin with a lone lit candle sticking out of its top. Nice. And some nice new cargoes. Great.
Just saw Children of Men. Fucking fantastic. Best film of the year.

Saturday, November 04, 2006

not quite nosferatu

Does this picture make me look gay? Because that would be a bad thing, wouldn't it? I told a gay friend yesterday that I don't look gay and he said, "I don't accept that statement." meaning on political grounds. It is a stupid thing to say.
This is wonderful birthday card that my brilliantly amazing friend Saria made for me. I didn't recognise that the subject was me, until I read the inside of the card. It's a picture of me from about five years ago. I think it was taken at a share house I was living in in Sandy Bay or at Saria's house. I love Hobart. Thanks Saria. You really made my birthday.
And Dave and Fiona took me along to the TZU, Good Buddha and Illzilla gig last night. Good Buddha were the best, I thought. Thanks fellas.
Now Playing: Arvo Pärt - Fratres for strings and percussion (another great birthday gift from my bro Dave).

Thursday, November 02, 2006

je suis un revolutionnaire

Why do I shy away from the use of the word revolution?
What is it about the word that makes me think 'reactionary high school wanker'?

Is it because I have a narrow understanding of what revolution is? Okay then, so what do I want revolution to mean? How do I frame it up in what I do? And why do I write these things instead of getting the eight hours per night sleep I so desperately need? And why do I still wank in the shower? But I digress.
I believe that our society will crumble and not just from the inherent shortcomings of capitalism, but, in part, from the effects of these shortcomings. But that's a bit like saying that, eventually after it has rained the sun will shine.
Clouds are blown across the sky by the wind and maybe even deplete themselves in the process of watering the Earth but the sun was always shining behind them and the clouds obviously aren't responisible for that. Perhaps a non sequitur but it furnishes the point well enough in my sleep deprived state.
As with the clouds and the sun, so too is it with capitalism and anarchism. Anarchism itself will not incite revolution, if we understand revolution as radical change from one system to a more or less completely different one. But anarchism will still be there at the downfall of capitalism and will contribute it's two cent's worth into the bargain. The point is to point to a prefered future, a vision for how I believe society should be structured and to work towards that
distant point. To place myself in the struggle to make that vision a reality. Practicing certain principles and theories is a part of this process, because theory once enacted is physical (it is not theory if it is not enacted), is part of the material reality. The cars we drive and the houses we inhabit are a part of captialism and consumerism in a society dominated by these two theoretical realities.
So I am a radical, revolutionary anarchist.
I won't destroy capitalism but I am part of the rapidly growing movement away from it and towards a society that values each of its members (we're talking the whole fucking thing: animals plants, yada yada), their autonomy, their dignity, their preciousness, their uniqueness, their contributions, their choices. As long as those choices are predicated on similar principles. If not, they can do their own
stupid thing somewhere else, I suppose.
That last bit is stupid...
Fuck it.
In the immortal words of Monty Python: "Je suis un revolutionnaire!"
And in the terrible words of some James Bond villain: "La bombe suprise."
I fear these words will come back to haunt me.
Am I seditious?
Lucky I'm not spraying my vitriol over the airwaves anymore, otherwise I'd continue to be ignored!
This is the last time I'll express high school wanker political opinions on my blog.

Another lie.