Some days the nonsense that is life just gets too much and I just want to stick my head in my hands close my eyes tight and wish that it would all go away. Today has been one of those days. A few weeks back I did a little drawing as part of an ongoing campaign to try and shame (ha if only we’d have known then what we know now, oink!) this shitty Tory government into letting a few more refugees into Britain. It worked, within a given value of ‘working’ and nothing more. It is by no means enough and by no means a victory. Since then my news feed has been barraged with invites to meetings about this, vigils about that, marches, parades and now it seems even the kamikaze bike riders may get involved. It’s all sounding strangely familiar… I.e like every other bloody thing in Hastings and St Leonard’s with the same names and places cropping up yet again. There is a little known story from WWII about how the railings that were taken down all over Britain to make Spitfires for the war effort were used for nothing of the sort. Aeroplanes need to be light and so they are made from mainly aluminium and in the case of many fighters in WWII wood and canvas. Cast iron is useless and is inefficient to turn into steel so why did anyone go to the trouble of tearing down fences? The whole thing was a moral boosting excercise, nothing more. As I’ve sat back and watched over the last few weeks as events rolled forward, I have seen about three or four “support the refugees” factions coalesce from various quarters.it is all starting to remind me of the scene in the Monty Python film “The Life of Brian” with all the various revolutionary groups squabbling over turf. Some of the activities are good and practical, clothes, shoes and survival equipment necessary as the winter weather draws in. Surrounding this though is an awful lot of froth. Be it marches, fundraisers or whatever, there is a whole industry of people carving out niches and marking out territory. But for what? Here’s where my synical head gets firmly screwed into place. Charity is a business, funding is a business, fundraising is a business and even if there isn’t any money sloshing around to do with the refugees right now, there will be soon and an awful lot of people will be using their involvement in the current refugee crisis to get themselves a comfy seat on the gravy train. I’m not saying it’s all bad, it certainly isn’t, but be wary.
Once you’ve dug out your smelly old shoes and jeans and dropped them off for processing, it might be worth doing the hard thing and taking a look at the root causes of this crises. For instance, did you know that there was a massive arms fair in London last weekend? It’s o.k if you didn’t, it wasn’t on the t.v so don’t feel too bad. As I stated in a previous post, we the British are the cause for a lot of the world’s woes and busying ourselves with marches, fundraisers and the like is the equivalent hacking someone’s head off with a chainsaw and then throwing the victim a sticking plaster afterwards.
Be aware, make others aware. Turn off the steady drip of the mainstream media and look a little further. Check out indymedia, head over to schnews, see what is really going on and tell others. But more than anything, learn to think for yourself.