Malo Periculosam Libertatem Quam Quietum Servitium
-Rousseau, On The Social Contract

War is just when it is necessary; arms are permissible when there is no hope except in arms
-Machiavelli

Enough is

Enough

I was there on the front lines. I was proud to be there. The protests that took place on Wednesday in Central London were not the pinnacle of a movement but the tip of the iceberg. These protests, which I long predicted would turn violent, were a reasonable reaction from a populace that has been consistently victimised by the current administration. The smashing of public property at the Conservative Party headquarters was a balanced reaction to an administration who would rather cut funding for healthcare and education than for pork-barrel government projects and unjust wars waged abroad in our name.

Government officials who rob the poor to create wealth for the rich deserve to be chased from their workplace and inconvenienced for a few days. For what have been gained through non-violent means? Likely not even a public statement from Boris Johnson or David Cameron, which, insulting as those comments were (basically they told us “fuck you”, we’ll do what we want), at least made it clear we got their attention.

You are lucky we didn’t turn your party headquarters into a new social centre Cameron. Like it or not, this is what democracy looks like. This is not your government, these are not your streets, they are ours.

Articulation

Participation

Organisation

Risk

Comes before

Response

The media responses have been both positive and negative, though mostly sympathetic. One story that stands out in particular is the praise coming from lecturers at Goldsmith University for the protests who signed a statement saying “We the undersigned wish to congratulate staff and students on the magnificent anti-cuts demonstration this afternoon. We wish to condemn and distance ourselves from the from the divisive and, in our view, counterproductive statements issued by NUS and [national] UCU concerning the occupation of the Conservative Party HQ. The real violence in this situation relates not to a smashed window but to the destructive impact of the cuts.” The Millbank House occupation apparently included the particpation of one of the lecturers, Luke Cooper, as an organiser on the front lines. Royal Holloway bows to Luke Cooper and Goldsmiths – thank you for your support.

By the end of the night, I was kettled in the street as I waited for a friend to show up from Manchester to lend his support. I was “stop and searched” under Section 60 of the UK Terrorism Act, a search which was ill-timed and badly carried out, despite the levity with which most officers carried it out.

Kettled by

Reasonable

And unreasonable cops

So what happens now? Well, as I said, this is just the tip of the iceberg. Look forward to walk-outs on November 24th. Unfortunately I will be away at a workshop that week in Dundee, but I trust you all will keep this fire burning.

This isn't over

Beauty is a thing of might and dread. Like the tempest she shakes the earth beneath us and the sky above us.
-Kahlil Gibran

Life is a pilgrimage. The wise man does not rest by the roadside inns. He marches direct to the illimitable domain of eternal bliss, his ultimate destination.
-Swami Sivananda

Ecstasy

Certain sites of urban exploration are to be tasted, others swallowed and some to be chewed and digested. I have had a love affair with Battersea Power Station, my Dark Princess, since arriving in London. The first time I rode past on the train and saw her crumbing dark brick and creamy smokestacks shining in the afternoon light, I began to feel a powerful desire to get closer. Slowly, over the course of 2 years, I have gone back to her over and over again, on foot, crawling through tunnels, by boat. I have visited her on lonely late nights of contemplation, seeking advice and solace, in the evenings, in the days, through changes of ownership and constantly changing security measures, running around the control rooms playing hide and seek and laying along the chimneys with friends in London’s early dawn light waiting for the ecstasy of her grandeur to eventually fade, which it never does. I feel that we have, over the years, developed a complicated and passionate relationship to the point that I defend her liminal status as being the best place for her to reside. I want her just as she is, now and forever.

No man's land

With intention

Last year, a plan was hatched to watch the city’s firework display from Battersea Park via the chimneys of my Dark Princess. Ironically, because of all of the traffic coming to Clapham Common where I live for the epic yearly display here, I couldn’t get there in time. I have regretted it ever since, determined to let nothing stop me this year from attending what has become a sacred urban explorer pilgrimage.

Security is part of the game. They know we are coming. They know we won’t give up spending this night with the Dark Princess. Last night, the place was swarming with workers and patrols, a large tent in the middle shooting blue lights onto the interior walls as we slipped up the scaffolding. The tremors of fear and roaming floodlights only added to the passion of the affair. In the end, 7 of us made it in even as others were caught in the yard below with screams and footchases we could hear while hanging from the steel girders.

And for our persistence, the Dark Princess rewarded us with the most spectacular beauty imaginable, aided in no small part the worker’s light show they unintentionally put on for us (thank you workers!).

Rekindled

The night

For 30 minutes, we sunk into the bliss of a successful pilgrimage, eyes closed with the sky flaring behind our eyelids, one terrible rumble after another awaking our primal imaginaries, drifting into the night. The evening turned into a fervour of laughter and play as we ran into the city to wreak more havoc in our intoxication of passion. I let the night go with a heavy heart.

In revelry

The whole universe will glow