Television, To Be Or Not To Be?.

         A poem for today, and of course tomorrow, or a New Year's resolution. Time to stop that nasty mind numbing screen, spewing sewage on the floor, so thick and putrid that it blocks the door, it fills your mind with a nasty smell, you’d believe you're down a dirty well. It blocks the windows from the sun, makes you forget out there can be such fun.

Television - Poem by Roald Dahl

The most important thing we've learned,
So far as children are concerned,
Is never, NEVER, NEVER let
Them near your television set --
Or better still, just don't install
The idiotic thing at all.
In almost every house we've been,
We've watched them gaping at the screen.
They loll and slop and lounge about,
And stare until their eyes pop out.
(Last week in someone's place we saw
A dozen eyeballs on the floor.)
They sit and stare and stare and sit
Until they're hypnotised by it,
Until they're absolutely drunk
With all that shocking ghastly junk.
Oh yes, we know it keeps them still,
They don't climb out the window sill,
They never fight or kick or punch,
They leave you free to cook the lunch
And wash the dishes in the sink --
But did you ever stop to think,
To wonder just exactly what
This does to your beloved tot?
IT ROTS THE SENSE IN THE HEAD!
IT KILLS IMAGINATION DEAD!
IT CLOGS AND CLUTTERS UP THE MIND!
IT MAKES A CHILD SO DULL AND BLIND
HE CAN NO LONGER UNDERSTAND
A FANTASY, A FAIRYLAND!
HIS BRAIN BECOMES AS SOFT AS CHEESE!
HIS POWERS OF THINKING RUST AND FREEZE!
HE CANNOT THINK -- HE ONLY SEES!
'All right!' you'll cry. 'All right!' you'll say,
'But if we take the set away,
What shall we do to entertain
Our darling children? Please explain!'
We'll answer this by asking you,
'What used the darling ones to do?
'How used they keep themselves contented
Before this monster was invented?'
Have you forgotten? Don't you know?
We'll say it very loud and slow:
THEY ... USED ... TO ... READ! They'd READ and READ,
AND READ and READ, and then proceed
To READ some more. Great Scott! Gadzooks!
One half their lives was reading books!
The nursery shelves held books galore!
Books cluttered up the nursery floor!
And in the bedroom, by the bed,
More books were waiting to be read!
Such wondrous, fine, fantastic tales
Of dragons, gypsies, queens, and whales
And treasure isles, and distant shores
Where smugglers rowed with muffled oars,
And pirates wearing purple pants,
And sailing ships and elephants,
And cannibals crouching 'round the pot,
Stirring away at something hot.
(It smells so good, what can it be?
Good gracious, it's Penelope.)
The younger ones had Beatrix Potter
With Mr. Tod, the dirty rotter,
And Squirrel Nutkin, Pigling Bland,
And Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle and-
Just How The Camel Got His Hump,
And How the Monkey Lost His Rump,
And Mr. Toad, and bless my soul,
There's Mr. Rat and Mr. Mole-
Oh, books, what books they used to know,
Those children living long ago!
So please, oh please, we beg, we pray,
Go throw your TV set away,
And in its place you can install
A lovely bookshelf on the wall.
Then fill the shelves with lots of books,
Ignoring all the dirty looks,
The screams and yells, the bites and kicks,
And children hitting you with sticks-
Fear not, because we promise you
That, in about a week or two
Of having nothing else to do,
They'll now begin to feel the need
Of having something to read.
And once they start -- oh boy, oh boy!
You watch the slowly growing joy
That fills their hearts. They'll grow so keen
They'll wonder what they'd ever seen
In that ridiculous machine,
That nauseating, foul, unclean,
Repulsive television screen!
And later, each and every kid
Will love you more for what you did.

Roald Dahl

Visit ann arky's home at https://radicalglasgow.me.uk 

Where Has The Real World Gone?

      As always, thoughtful, insightful words from Not Buying Anything.

Where has the real world gone, are we now afraid to be alone with our thoughts, after all thoughts are a good way of finding direction in our life. Face to face communication can be a wonderful enriching experience. Yes, there way be a place for "social media" but as part of our life, it shouldn't become our life, and that, unfortunately seems to be the trend. 

This from Not Buying Anything:

 

      Oliver Sacks, British neurologist, naturalist, historian of science, and author, feared for the future before he died. He wasn't so much alarmed at what had come into being. Rather, he was shocked by how much was missing.

     “Everything is public now, potentially: one’s thoughts, one’s photos, one’s movements, one’s purchases.
     There is no privacy and apparently little desire for it in a world devoted to non-stop use of social media.
      Every minute, every second, has to be spent with one’s device clutched in one’s hand. Those trapped in this virtual world are never alone, never able to concentrate and appreciate in their own way, silently.
      They have given up, to a great extent, the amenities and achievements of civilization: solitude and leisure, the sanction to be oneself, truly absorbed, whether in contemplating a work of art, a scientific theory, a sunset, or the face of one’s beloved.”

Oliver Sacks died in 2015. Before he passed he wrote, 

      "I find my thoughts, increasingly, not on the supernatural or spiritual, but on what is meant by living a good and worthwhile life — achieving a sense of peace within oneself.

       Sacks wouldn't have advised looking for such answers, such peace, in a mobile screen.

      We are trapped in a virtual world. I have doubts about it providing us with a "good and worthwhile life".

Visit ann arky's home at radicalglasgow.me.uk

 

Auschwitz-Disneyland.

      I post this article in full  because I think, with clarity, it puts into words what so many of us think and feel, but can't quite put it together. Also as the writer says, the audacity of linking those two words, Auschwitz and Disneyland will create a shock among those conditioned minds.

     It is an anonymous article taken from The Anarchist Library, a wonderful Aladdin's Cave of anarchist texts.

Auschwitz-Disneyland

I live in Auschwitz-Disneyland. I make sure that all my papers are in order,
I document my existence on social networks,
        I apply for grants and loans. I wear clothes that express who I am, I am a walking billboard, a name tag, I pick a style. I take a train, a subway, my car, un Bixi[1], it's so convenient. I take a shower, I smell good, according to the ads this foaming gel makes me irresistible. Auschwitz-Disneyland is the countryside in the city, the city in the suburb, and the suburb in the countryside. Auschwitz-Disneyland is naked life in one's Sunday best, the hegemony giving itself the answer. In Auschwitz-Disneyland, “holidays make you free.” In Auschwitz-Disneyland, we order at the drive-through, we studying by distance learning, and we shop online.
      In Auschwitz-Disneyland, “water comes from the tap and food comes from the supermarket”, food found in the skip also comes from the supermarket. Spectacular capital of Biopower and the bio-political Spectacle: Auschwitz-Disneyland is the name of the metropolis and that of the empire. Auschwitz-Disneyland is not synonymous with the Spectacle, but rather, that which the Spectacle prevents us from keeping our distance from. Auschwitz-Disneyland is not civil war, but the denial of civil war to such a degree that it becomes a weapon. Auschwitz-Disneyland does not call itself Auschwitz-Disneyland, it is called: Montréal, Burlington, Club Med, the Univerisity of Québec in Montréal, Athens, Amiens, Dix-Trente, Bagram, Oakland, Bois-des-Fillions, and I'm skipping some. The inhabitants of Auschwitz-Disneyland are citizens. In the aftermath of a riot, the citizens come out of their condominiums armed with brooms. Living in Auschwitz-Disneyland is an anaesthetic experience, which deprives us of the beauty and possibility of sensory experience.
     I wouldn't know how to say exactly how this all started, if it was domestication, patriarchy, agriculture, the State, cities, symbolic culture. There is also this god from the desert, jealous and terrible liar whose promise is no stranger to the hegemony of Auschwitz-Disneyland. This god, who could not have been so hideously jealous and a horrible liar if he had really been alone, managed to convince his disciples that he was the only god and that nothing that links us to the here-and-now is of importance, that what mattered was elsewhere and he held the key for it. Although we are no longer as loyal to this tyrannical buffoon, we continue to diligently follow his terrible promise. Auschwitz-Disneyland is the objective incarnation of this promise, the absolute negation of the possibility of being here, now. Here-and-now, is no longer here-and-now, it is just next door, out of reach, fenced off, it is a no-man's land that crosses the empire, it is subject to police surveillance at all times. When I try to escape Auschwitz-Disneyland is not to go elsewhere, it is to rediscover the here-and-now. I do not dig a tunnel, but a hiding place, a shelter.
     Auschwitz-Disneyland subjects the world to its empire through use of powerful tools such as reason, technique and grammar. In a world whose ins and outs are contained in symbolic mediations, do not underestimate the power of grammar. Grammar shapes minds and stories, it also brings many prohibitions, of course it is not permissible to join the words “Auschwitz” and “Disneyland” with a hyphen, to try to give them one and the same meaning. In Auschwitz-Disneyland, resistance, like all counter-cultures, has developed a vocabulary of its own, but fails to overcome the enemy grammar; the word “ecocide” will never hold weight against the concept of “economic growth”. The combination of a counter-cultural vocabulary with the authoritarian grammar of mass society can only lead to ridicule, we must see how easily the “New World Order”, “Bilderberg” and “chemtrails” conspirators put an end to any political conversation. Facing the risk of being confined to jargon, it is beneficial to talk through the force of rocks, paving stones, poles...
        Auschwitz-Disneyland is less the Apocalypse in motion, than the negation of this Apocalypse in the service of its expansion. The task falls on the best agents of the Apocalypse of denying the slightest trace of the latter, and to wipe out the unfortunates who had the audacity and recklessness to pronounce its name. It is perhaps no coincidence that Saint Peter became the head of the church by denying Christ three times. If this negation of the Apocalypse returns in the sphere of the spectacular, to specialists, in the private sphere we become all subcontractors. We prefer, most of the time, to deny our desire to end the domination, in favour of a trans-historical oppositional perspective and of 'counter-power'. In doing so, we deny the possibility of abolishing Auschwitz-Disneyland, by contenting ourselves with a space for demonstrations, a zone for free expression, a protest pen. We let go of the gun to better cling to the barricade.
      This mutilated negativity first results in our inability to sustain ourselves without precarity, which also feeds our servitude. This constant management of subsistence denies the possibility of note-worthy experience, of bearing a relationship to the world which is not that of domination.
        A century of industrialisation, continental genocide and four years of trench warfare eradicated everything up until the “possibility of experience.” Then after that, it was relayed by the most horrible images, rats shown alternating with a hated minority; and during that time on other screens, a mouse wearing trousers, going to the restaurant with his girlfriend, driving a car. Since scrapping experience, progress, basing itself on images, has free reign, hiding the cost of what little is given to us, cultivating our dependence, promising us anything. In Auschwitz-Disneyland, progress maintains itself by combining its best gadgets, which form so many layers which capture us like cellophane. Auschwitz-Disneyland merges telecommunications, cybernetics and pornography, and gives us the internet.
     Auschwitz-Disneyland is also the triumph of sustainable development, humanitarian intervention and green capitalism. Divided thought has multiplied to the point of constituting an inseparable heap. New animal torturers are the “finest minds” of cognitive science, and wise European scholars, well-intentioned, try to prove the innocuousness of new molecules that surround us. Where does the baby start and the bathwater finish? The “banality of evil” is also the evil of banality. The dreams of citizens reproduce sadness and the banality of their existence, their interaction is limited to an interface. Another world is possible, you want to laugh. This world is impossible, its end is desirable, that will suffice. Jokers put forward superficial slogans: ecosocialism or barbarism. If it's a matter of choice the answer is too easy, we are not fooled, the 250 known species which have become extinct today are not fooled. If it's a threat, we will respond with a roar, a fierce and wild roar, we will roar with all our strength, we will roar for the 250 known species which became extinct today.
     Auschwitz-Disneyland can provide free education, cover itself with windfarms, eat organic and drive electric cars, the “Princesses' Castle” and her thousands of hideous copies could be made of recycled cardboard, the horror would remain whole. To maintain itself, this world must keep us out of the here, far from the now, outside nature and alien to each other.
       Auschwitz-Disneyland only maintains itself by cultivating this estrangement within us towards others. We share a subway car, without letting it show; we don't look at anyone, we are voluntarily absorbed by some gadgets, some books, some music. When empty-handed, we pretend to be alone, to be somewhere else; we are in the habit. We are mobilised against the presence of the body and against the possibility that it carries. Sometimes this mobilisation fails and the decorations get torn. There are all these cities and suburbs ablaze when the cops execute the “baddies”. There is Sobibor[2] where a dozen prisoners got the camp to revolt: killing the guards, destroying the cells, fleeing into the woods. There's also Woodstock '99[3], Seattle[4] and there is Oka[5].
        A drone flies over a piece of desert, preparing to launch a missile at a truck; we will say that it was carrying some “militants”. A landlord's association decides to analyse the DNA of dog shit that stains their lawns to find and punish those “guilty”. A counterfeit Mickey Mouse gets on stage with a neophyte dictator for the greatest “joy” of children. An Italian atomic energy official gets kneecapped[6]. The war is already here, we know which side to choose. All that's left is to “desert with arms”, to desert with a friend, with at least one friend, a friend, a stranger, a stranger who became a friend, with two friends, five friends. Deserting doesn't necessarily imply going elsewhere, “arms” are not just useful for fighting; deserting implies creating a new relationship to the world, exploring “here” and experimenting “now”, noting the location of enemy devices, making a plan, plans, finding yourself, finding a friend, two friends, five friends. Together we will survive, heal, and of course fight, we will also experiment with this new grammar, better yet this language without grammar, which will put an end once and for all to “Auschwitz-Disneyland.”

[1] ed. – Similar to the 'Boris Bikes' cycle hire scheme.
[2] ed. – Sobibór was a Nazi German extermination camp in Poland.
[3] ed. – The 1999 Woodstock festival near New York ended with rioting.
[4] ed. – Seattle hosted the 1999 World Trade Organisation summit, with big protests and much property damage.
[5] ed. – The 1990 'Oka Crisis' was a 78-day armed stand-off between the Canadian military and Kanesatake indigenous protectors of traditional habitat to be turned into a golf course. Other tribes set up blockades and downed power-lines in solidarity.

[6] ed. – See Rebels Behind Bars; 'We Refuse to Reduce Our Desires...'

Visit ann arky's home at radicalglasgow.me.uk

Real Or Spectacle?

         Is capitalism the master of sorcery, the great creator of illusions, the weaver of falsehoods, where is reality, is it consumerism, or some other -ism, is it hidden somewhere unreachable in our deep consciousness, or is it all very personal, is reality nothing more nor less than our own personal existence, no matter what that might be? Who is the arbitrator?

This from The Collective:

          As anarchists living in an consumer-driven industrial world where so much of our lives is dominated or facilitated by the State or what we may call Capitalism, what can we consider to be real in our lives, if anything? Are we truly in a Society of the Spectacle, or perhaps lost in the depths of post-modernity or some similar state of extreme alienation that makes the real impossible? Are we truly separated from nature, or are these all simply labels and empty theories that can only attempt to frame the chaotic and complicated world around us? What sort of actions, relationships, projects, discussions, experiences, ideas, group or family dynamics (or anything else) seem to feel genuine or authentic to us? Is it the way you eat or obtain food, have sex, meet strangers or form connections, face enemies, create things you love, destroy things you despise, or something else entirely? What gives those things real qualities or drives you to engage in them as anarchists? Or is anything that could be considered real reserved for revolutionary moments or aspirations, and how would such moments or ideals be obtained?

Visit ann arky's home at www.radicalglasgow.me.uk

     

That Babbling Brook Of Bullshit.

      I tend to refer to the mainstream media as, "that babbling brook of bullshit", and have refused interviews with journalists on several occasions. I see the mainstream media as an essential part of the establishment apparatus. A propaganda tool of the corporate world, and at all times, against the type of change to society that is necessary to break out of this vicious circle of capitalist exploitation. When anarchists talk to the media, they are putting their ideas and beliefs in a mincer, and having them served up in distorted misshapen unrecognisable minuscule portions. I fail to see how we can expect a social revolution to come via the mainstream media, they are firmly on the other side of the desire for a change, to a system of fairness and justice, built on the needs of the people. 

       We have to be our own media, we have to communicate via our communities and workplaces, report on, and be constructively critical of the real world we live in. We must ignore the filtered version of distorted sound-bites that is spewed out from that vast international corporate mouthpiece, whose only aim is to create a false reality, in which none of us actually live. It attempts to make the gross inequalities and injustices of the capitalist system acceptable, to make the public more amenable to the voracity of the parasites who hold the levers of power in this corrupt system. It will glorify war, honour the corporate plunder of the earth, and shine the spotlight of adoration on wealth and greed. Why should we even contemplate any form of association with something that is so hostile to our aims and desires? To see the world we live in, we must create a mainstream media blackout, in our lives, and talk to each other.

Visit ann arky's home at www.radicalglasgow.me.uk