Friday, 28 August 2015

Dystopia From The Belly Of Western Imperialism.

      The authors of yesteryear or today, could not replicate the horrors of our present reality. While the Caesars of the imperial world pontificate in palatial halls, bloated bodies of men, women and children float on the beautiful Mediterranean Sea, small boats bob about, their holds filled with cargoes of dead families, decomposing bodies lie in lorries, sitting by the roadside, and still they come. An army of ordinary people fleeing death and destruction, but they have lost their label "people", they have a new label, "migrant", this is meant to dehumanise them, to somehow magically turn them in to, "the other", not one of us.
         The horror, death, mutilation, destruction and trauma from which they flee, is beyond our imagination. They flee a reality that is a modern dystopia spawned from the belly of Western imperialism. Before the Western imperialists' with their insatiable greed for the black liquid gold, unleashed their military might on those lands with that black liquid gold, the "migrants" were, school teachers, shop assistants, bus drivers, plumbers, students, school children, retired office workers, parents, lovers, children. Now thrown together in an inhumane and desperate bid for survival, their brothers and sisters across that beautiful Mediterranean turn their backs on them. They are to herded like cattle, labelled and bar-coded like merchandise, or worse still, to be sent back from whence they came. 
        The present economic system gave birth to this inhumane nightmare, and as the wealth from this dystopia flows ever upwards to the coffers of the corporate world of oil giants and the arms industry, its progress is oiled by the blood of the ordinary people.
        There is no such thing as "migrants", a term of derision and division, there are only people, travelling to seek safety, shelter and a better life, people just like you and I, they are indeed, one of us, they are not the problem, the problem is the corporate worlds insatiable greed, backed up by its military might. When we finally end that power that is wielded over us, and the people take control of their own lives, put an end to nation states, and wipe away borders, seeking shelter and safety will be met with open arms. We should start now.

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  1. Your powerful armies came to help us to be "free and democratic", and now we come to your countrys to thank you for your immense and selfless generosity.

  2. Wisława Szymborska, Psalm (1976)

    Oh, the leaky boundaries of man-made states!
    How many clouds float past them with impunity;
    how much desert sand shifts from one land to another;
    how many mountain pebbles tumble onto foreign soil
    in provocative hops!

    Need I mention every single bird that flies in the face of frontiers or alights on the roadblock at the border?
    A humble robin - still, its tail resides abroad
    while its beak stays home. If that weren't enough, it won't stop bobbing!
    Among innumerable insects, I'll single out only the ant
    between the border guard's left and right boots
    blithely ignoring the questions "Where from?" and "Where to?"
    Oh, to register in detail, at a glance, the chaos
    prevailing on every continent!
    Isn't that a privet on the far bank
    smuggling its hundred-thousandth leaf across the river?
    And who but the octopus, with impudent long arms,
    would disrupt the sacred bounds of territorial waters?
    And how can we talk of order overall?
    when the very placement of the stars
    leaves us doubting just what shines for whom?
    Not to speak of the fog's reprehensible drifting!
    And dust blowing all over the steppes
    as if they hadn't been partitioned!
    And the voices coasting on obliging airwaves,
    that conspiratorial squeaking, those indecipherable mutters!
    Only what is human can truly be foreign.
    The rest is mixed vegetation, subversive moles, and wind.

    Translated by Stanisław Barańczak and Clare Cavanagh