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Our City?

I've seen the words "Our City" used many times after the bombings in London. Each time I see or hear this, I think to myself that it was "Their City" as well. Because the bombers were British. As British as I am. That is the problem. These Brits, who by all accounts were well regarded of, felt strongly enough that violence was the only way to make their statements heard. That they were willing to make the ultimate sacrifice, kill themselves for whatever they believed in. Suicide bombing is the tactic of the hopeless and weak; if the terrorist threat was really some enormous powerful international force, they would surely do more than launch these desperate tragedies.

My real problem with those words is that it reinforces the reasons why someone can do that — tribalism. The collective "we" have a general strong instinct to form groups (tribes as I call them). It is perhaps why a British Muslim who sees pictures of mutilated children and tortured prisoners may be willing to override his national instincts with religious ones. Why they then see other members of the same country as the "other" (even though linked to by many strands of their identity). By saying "Our City", we reaffirm that this is a tribal war; we obscure subtlety of identity in drum-rolls of patriotism (wherever that patriotism may lie). We reinforce the problem, not alleviate it.

The stupidity of the British bombers is that their targets were utterly misconceived, their tribalism blinded them to the implications of their action. Of those that died in the tunnels and streets of London, the majority would have probably been opposed to the illegal and unjustified invasion of Iraq; to the death of thousands of Iraqi's, to the torture by US and British troops of detainees; to the use of cluster bombs in residential areas and the whole catalogue of horrors the Military machine promulgated in the name of liberation.

What options did we have in this "democracy", was my passionate voice heard; could the bombers have used a different route to defend their ideas? Sadly the answer is no. The Government was willing to go to War irrespective of public opinion. It lied and cheated its way to join the killing fields. The sadness and hopelessness I felt after those massive demonstrations may well have been converted in the bombers into a dehumanising obsession.

Some of my closest friends in life have been 2nd Generation Pakistanis. I have been to Mosque with them, and spent evenings discussing in prayer circles. I wish more people could experience the warmth and openness of the Muslims I know. My fear is as the Government finally gets the chance to strip away more civil rights, soon I will not be able to discuss any of this. The Government wants to make incitement to terrorism a criminal offence. Does me saying, "I understand why someone may do this" give them grounds to arrest me (even if I cannot accept the methods they used)? If I leave myself open to the position that Palestinians may have no other way to fight the absolute power of the Israeli military than through the tragedy of suicide bombing (even though I see how nihilistic and futile it is) — does that make me one of "them"?

See individual entry…

Breaking the Glass

Blood and bone mingled with metal and concrete as London, the multi-faceted Metropolis I call home, was finally attacked. Watching from my Window and on the flickering computer screen, the attack which had been inevitable unfurled its wings over the City. Media Talking heads (specialists in terrorism who seems to know about as much as our Cabbies [black taxi drivers] do...) spitted out rather meaningless statements as people tried to grasp at the logical from the ineffable. Such attacks are simply horrific and shocking. All those close to me are safe, although one friend was close by when Kings Cross (long time home; and close to my heart) was hit. I feel no fear for my own safety (statistically I'm sure crossing the road is far more dangerous), but I feel a big fear for the aftermath.

A few desperate individual with little power to engage in a sustained attack will cause a large Political aftermath. I can see the fight to maintain Civil Liberties (which is supposedly part of the culture they attacked) will become harder. The Government will knee-jerk into leading a nation of greater repression. ID cards will jump back up the agenda, allowing State control with little other benefit.

I was disgusted when Blair attempted to make political capital out of this. To paraphrase that Vulture:

These people are despicable, for when we have be trying to eradicate global poverty, to combat Aids and to save the environment and make the world a better place, these barbarian attacked with brutality.

As we know full well, their Debt relief is simply more of the same Sovereign interference and market led privatisation through the back door. Giving with one hand (after bleeding Nations dry with exorbitant compound interest on loans given to Dictators), they will keep taking with the other as Markets open ripe for plucking by European and American Companies. Real moves on climate are nothing more than hot air, itself only contributing to global warming. For Blair to try and sell these bunch of Arch-cronies as compassionate savers of the world¹, when talking about the horrific bombings was sick politicism.

How many people still believe in such pathetic non-crusades as that of fighting "Terror"? What a joke. Fuck political and religious extremists (including Neo-cons and opportunists like Blair and Berlusconi into the heady mix of Nationalist and religious fundamentalism) of all forms.

¹ Though Blair is a master orator, the Vulture's pauses and furled brow when giving his statement were near perfect.

See individual entry…

Lilya 4-Ever

When something transcends the 'intellectualisation' of that thing and reaches so very deep into the pulsing blood-red of our inside - that is art. Art isn't about accurate oil paintings of bowls of fruit, or Velázquez masturbating images of the rich and/or dwarves - it is about challenging the indescribable 'feeling' of experience. That is why paintings by the 'masters' very rarely classify as 'art' to me - and cinema is actually one of the peaks of true 'artistic' endeavour (and not only 'entertainment'). Paintings by Michelangelo and the other poster boys of 'classical art' leave me cold - we are told time-and-again that this is 'art', conditioned to restrict Duchamp's urinal to paraphernalia. Well, classical painting is the dull paraphernalia of what I consider 'true' art - and cinema sits at the core of this vision.

And so Lukas Moodysson (also the director of Together & Show me Love¹), has achieved in Lilya 4-Ever a deserved claim to 'masterpiece'. I really can't overstate what a profoundly intense and fucking amazing film this is. I can't (don't want to) approach it intellectually, but it really devastated me emotionally.

It is the story of Lilya (Oksana Akinshina), a 16 year girl in Russia, and her slow slide into prostitution and eventual trafficking to a pimp in Sweden. Core to the film is the desperate and tender friendship with a younger boy, Volodya (Artiom Bogucharsky), who often sleeps on the street because of the whims of an abusive father. I won't really objectify the film into description - it is a film to be felt - combining a transcendent poetry with the raw bloody viscera of reality. It is wonderfully directed and structured, brilliantly acted and flawless in so many ways.

Yolanda (my friend whose MSc dissertation will be on trafficking of women) pointed out (rightly) that the film is probably not representative of many women's experiences of sex-trafficking. Many trafficked sex-workers often live together and have this as a kind of support network, something that Lilya never experiences. I agree it may not be representative, yet this film is about the experience of one girl, and was not for me a film whose aim was overtly 'political' (unlike In This World ), but it was a portrait of a life, a fellow being. It was, from my point above, a real and profound portrait, not like the trivial craftsmanship² of Raphael, but of the true kind of transcendental art.

¹ See an Interview with him here

² A substantial body of 'classical art' for me is 'just' craftsmanship. Technically impressive and pleasing to the eye - but as reflections that deeply touch us inside and make us think about or challenge our existence (my claim to true art), they fail miserably.

³ Here is a brief sketch I wrote last night in my diary: it is a profound and intense masterpiece. Combining transcendent poetry with the raw bloody viscera of reality - it is a true work of art. Like all such peaks, it has the ability to pierce deep into your heart, and therefore be very disturbing. But the poetry flowing through the film elevates it SO very far above the usual emotional 'shock-tactics' of contrived Hollywood tear-jerkers. A true and profound treasure!

See individual entry…

Direct Action On Friday, I attended a direct action at Old St. I was part of a cyclists 'critical mass', but we ended up blocking the round-about at Old St for a period of time with a group of walkers. I was expecting a sit down protest - but instead it was a march - spontaneous. The police lay back waiting to see what was going to happen, but on realising we were going to stay to block the roads into the city, then they mobilised to contain the group. Using very aggressive tactics, they confined us and the crushed us into a small space (something called a kettle I believe). They managed to get the traffic flowing, but enough cyclists had escaped to keep slowly cycling and re-blocking traffic. I wondered whether this was really the best time to do such an action. Although some passers-by (and even Drivers) supported the anti-war sentiments, others (all drivers) just got angry and abusive (not that the cyclists care, being anti-car and more critical of petrol-consumers in general). The idea is not to upset people on their way home from work, but to use non-violent direct action to disrupt the running of the city. We all feel strongly enough that the shamful stance of the Goverment is enough that everything we can do, we will (non-violently, at least in my case). See individual entry…

Moral paradox Ariel Dorfman in a beautifully written, but morally complex "opinion piece in the independant":http://argument.independent.co.uk/commentators/story.jsp?story=381753 argues that (if given the opourtunity in 1975) he'd rather Pinochet continuing in his murderous power than submit Chile to a hostile takeover by a foreign power (as will be the case in Iraq). Wow, this is like one of those philosophical moral dilemmas (i.e. kill one person to save five more). Tough stuff... See individual entry…

Opening the inside to years of Fear !(left)http://nontroppo.org/blog/images/bodyworlds.gif! I never quite understood the controversy that surrounded the BODY WORLDS exhibition, where real human cadavers are expertly dissected and aranged for public viewing. I suppose being a biologist, and having a strong interest in death and mortality, I resent this reaction that is driven by both a pointless fear of death and an utter ignorance of biology. Going to BODY WORLDS was interesting for me because I was intrigued to see the reactions of other members of the public. Graphic designers discussing the nerves of the body, and an old man looking at examples of disease processes that may be occuring in his (and progressively my) body. I found it very positive and rewarding to see open minds and an awareness of the reality of our biological nature. What for me would be a natural extension, "a public autopsy,":http://www.bodyworlds.co.uk/en/Specials_London_Autopsy.htm has however stirred huge controversy. I was very moved when I went to "spectacular bodies at the Hayward gallery":http://www.google.com/search?hl=en&lr=&ie=UTF-8&oe=utf-8&q=spectacular+bodies+hayward+gallery&spell=1 (in many ways more 'radical' than BODY WORLDS), because anatomy was considered so differently in the past than it is now. We were much closer to death in the past (e.g. most deaths would occur in the home rather than clincal hospitals or nursing homes), and thus they were much more aware of the biological processes that happen within. We have become experts at disguising our food (meat that looks identical to what is inside us) in a way that allows us to divorce its materiality from our own. Death only happens in stupid Hollywood fantasies and far-away countries (whos lives are less valuable than our own[1]...). We have become so fearful (and / or cognitively detached) from what is so fundamental to what we are. Of course people may be offended by a public autopsy -- that is because they are so pre-conditioned by ignorance and fear in the first place. The whole response is very disappointing, people have complained about a televised version of the autopsy -- just don't watch it if you are incapable of understanding anything about yourself! Amazingly, 33 people had complaind to the television-station broadcasting the autospsy before it even started! This whole process may have been spectacularised, but without people pushing against the boundaries of our societies ignorance, we will get nowhere... LINKS: "An account of the autopsy":http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/health/2497889.stm "Info on the media storm":http://media.guardian.co.uk/broadcast/story/0,7493,844547,00.html
[1] Evidenced by the appaling disinterest of the media to the number of civilian casualties in Afghanistan... See individual entry…

Nicolae Neacsu is dead... !(right)http://nontroppo.org/blog/images/Neacsu.jpg ! Well, it is a strange thing when you feel sad for the death of someone you don't know, and I've scathingly attacked others before for the mass-mourning phenomena surrounding such utterly unworthy subjects as the Queen Mother, but the old violinist of the band "Taraf de Haïdouks,":http://www.divanoprod.com/taraf/menu/menu.html Nicolae Neacsu has died at the age of 78. I'd met him 3 times (so I knew him a little bit at least!), and although he speaks no English, everyone always fell in love with him. I remember him most because after concerts, he would wander around trying to steal cigarettes off everyone!!! He was somewhat more reserved than the other members of Taraf, maybe he was just older. I don't think he spoke too much French either, which is what many of Taraf know, so he always communicated using universal sign language. When I first saw Taraf they were playing with the "Kronos Quartet,":http://www.kronosquartet.org/ and I remember Nicolae walking onto the stage and starting singing into the Royal Festival Hall without a microphone!. He tried to fill the huge space with lung power!!! He was most well know for his unusual method of violin playing, where he ties a string to one of the violin strings which hangs down, and then plays by scratching this string with his finger nail while playing. The result is a melodic creaking!!! It was really wonderful when the Kronos quartet came on stage later and he and they all played using this method; truly magical. His song using this technique about the fall of Ceaucescu always gives me chicken skin!!! The next time I saw them was at Ronnie Scotts (a famous London Jazz club), and it was there where I started to truly understand the music. No one was dancing at all, and only me and a small hard-core group at the back were doing what one should with this music - go wild... A pretentious jazz club is definately NOT the place to play wild gypsy music. I spent quite some time trying to communicate with Nicolae, and in the end we gave each other a hug, it was the only way I could communicate my love of this music, and the personalities of the musicians. Taraf have no pretentions, they often busk on the street before concerts (not for money, but for love of music), and they just want people to enjoy their music. They almost always continue playing in the bar or on the street after their concerts. I remember one concert in Hammersmith, it finished at 10pm, and they then continued in the bar until 1am!!! We then had to leave, and as we were driving home, we stopped at a pedestrian crossing only to see a group of about 30 people dancing wildly acoss the road, Taraf in the middle and wandering down a sleepy suburban street. They are crazy! And Taraf will miss the unique personality of their veteran fiddler. So, Nicolae - may you fiddle on wherever you've gone, and tonight i'll get drunk on vodka, and dance till I collapse. It is the way I think that I could best honour you... Found an "obituary of Nicolae in the Guardian.":http://www.guardian.co.uk/obituaries/story/0,3604,792719,00.html For some more pictures of him, "see here.":http://www.divanoprod.com/news/news.html# See individual entry…

Julien Donkey Boy i've just watched julien-donkey-boy by harmony korine - and i am in a state of shock. i'm naturally susceptible to issues related to schizophrenia (my one true fear), but I genuinely entered into their world - their individual lives. it was such a beautiful visual/tone poem, both bursting with light and at it's core dark. there was that small candle of human hope withing the darkness. i don't feel ready, or care, to dissect it like some clinical post-mortem - i just want to feel. Why do "DOGMA95":http://www.tvropa.com/tvropa1.2/film/dogme95/menu/menuset.htm films have the ability to penetrate through my intellectual armour so well?? Shit, strong stuff - i feel quite bad now, not shocked by the content of the film, but by the 'existence' of the 'characters'. And not able to communicate my felt inside to the outside. But i do want to record this moment, to remind myself. words can be so banal, they reduce the complexity of the felt present to single shards of abstraction. fuck it... See individual entry…

Meteors Had a cool encounter with an old man on a street corner (wipe those filthy thoughts out of your mind....) I'd given up on seeing the shooting stars tonight, but when I saw him with his binoculars in the centre of London, I thought why not cast my gaze heaven-ward. And lo, It came to pass, that a star was born in the north, and the wise old man did utter - 'look, this is a sign, verily I say to thee', and the young man nodded in agreement. Then, another star burst forth into the heavens, and the young man was confused, and the old man was confused - and both were more confused as the third bright star leapt across gods theatre. And they did gnash their teeth,and tear desperately at their hair. And the young man did wail 'why God has thou confused us so, are we not worthy of your divine hand'. And the old man wept in multitudes. At this moment a taxi-driver stopped, and shouted, 'it's only a fucking meteor shower, you idiots'. And with this sudden jolt, both the young and the old man verily did come to their senses, and they did rejoice and laugh and hug, knowing they weren't in Arabia 2002 years ago waiting for divine providence but were two rationalist atheists living in metropolitan London. The End... See individual entry…