Organized Bands Of Roving Thugs

Thanks to a conspiratorial roving band of criminals/anarchists/ … (fill in the blank as to your dismissive name of choice) who chose not to disavow the use of violence and instead burnt and tore some shit up on Saturday, the well-armed and equipped security forces entrenched in downtown Toronto for the G20 gathering had all the excuses they needed to respond in kind, justifying not only their heavy-handed presence but the exorbitant cost of maintaining them here. If you build a barricade, they will attempt to storm it. From the very beginning, the organizing of the summit was a provocative act, used to demonstrate the need for a police state apparatus to keep us safe from the onslaught of threats swirling around us. Crazed terrorists from the outside; civil unresters on the inside.

It strikes me as funny that law and order types, mostly right of centre leaning, will throw unlimited money and resources at what they perceive to be a problem of national security but when it comes to issues of a more social nature, well, that’s a whole different kettle of fish. Matters like poverty, the environment, unemployment are all best dealt with in a less is more fashion. There’s never enough money to go around especially if you’re doling out a billion dollars plus for a three day event hosting the world’s most vulnerable leaders.

But at least we know where these people stand and what it is they truly believe in.

What about the rest of us, many who merely shrugged a miffed shrug at what we felt was little more than an inconvenience albeit a costly inconvenience? Those that saw this gathering arbitrarily enforced and organized very much out of the public eye as simply an excuse for an extended summer getaway. To the cottage. To Scotland. (Yes, readers. I am indeed making a very pointed reference to those I once thought of as like-minded colleagues and fellow foot soldiers in the battle for progressive causes. I see them now as merely co-workers. Strangers sharing nothing but office space. Shame, shame I say to them and yesterday’s mea culpa should only be the beginning of their rehabilitation.) What exactly is it that they believe in?

Clearly it isn’t democratic principles. Those, we have just failed miserably. We stood idly by and watched as governments dismantled long, hard won ideals like freedom of expression and the right to open public assembly. “Designated areas of protest” do not constitute either of those freedoms. The provincial Liberal government’s Public Work Protection Act, secretively enacted by cabinet fiat earlier this month, handed over broad and very likely unconstitutional powers to the police, allowing them “to demand identification from and search without warrant anyone who comes within five metres of the security zone.” How did we find out about it? After someone was arrested and charged. Your papers! Where are your papers?!

We have not seen such intrusive, far-reaching powers granted to the government by the government since the fallout from 9/11 and, before that, Trudeau’s War Measures Act in response to the FLQ crisis. No longer does it take an actual threat for us to cravenly hand over our rights and responsibilities to the authorities. Any old perceived threat will do these days. Do we deserve any sort of freedom when we so easily hand it over with barely a peep of disgruntled complaint whenever we`re asked?

People on both sides of this battle line seem to agree on one thing: the violence we saw on Saturday did nothing to help the situation. There were many like Craig Kielburger who wrote that the nasty turn only served to diminish all of the protesters in the eyes of the public. “This group [Black Bloc] doesn’t deserve to be called protesters. Martin Luther King was a protester. He campaigned against racial segregation through non-violent tactics. The groups that marched peacefully on series of social issues, they were protesters.”

May I remind Mr. Kielburger that while Martin Luther King played an integral role in the civil rights movement, he was hardly alone in the effort. There was a more militant strain also at work within the African-American community epitomized by the likes of Malcolm X and the Black Panthers. I don’t believe that one would’ve worked successfully without the other. For every Ghandi pacifist led march to independence there is the blood soaked path as witnessed in places like Algeria. The world’s beacon of freedom, the United States of America, was born from the womb of violent insurrection.

Am I likening the Black Bloc to early American revolutionaries? No. We’re simply talking tactics and I do empathize with those who feel the need to rage. While many will simply brush the riot-inclined off as professional agitators, I would suggest they’re missing the bigger picture.

When those we have elected stop listening to our concerns or wilfully ignore the requests we make upon them, what recourse is left us? The dangerous route is to throw our hands up in the air and dismiss them as only politicians doing what politicians do and head off to the cottage in disgust. Politicians will only do what we let them do and every so often they have to be reminded of that fact. Sometimes at the ballot box. Sometimes by peaceful protest. And sometimes by any means necessary.

Attempting to diminish that option with media massaged propaganda about anarchic radicals bent on nothing other than mindless destruction or trying to take it off the table entirely by an overwhelming show of official force emphasizes rather than addresses the underlying causes of dissatisfaction and anger. It is the growing disconnect between the citizens and those they have chosen to represent them that lies at the heart of the conflict that flares up every time the world’s leaders gather behind locked gates within our midst to discuss our collective future. We want to be heard not dictated to and if it requires the odd petulant outburst, so be it. Other, more reasonable methods don’t seem to be working at the moment.

— violently submitted by Acaphlegmic

A Good May Day To You

It’s May 1st. May Day. International Workers’ Day.

It always brings to mind the scene from Monty Python’s Life of Brian where the revolutionary groups are discussing life under the Romans.

To paraphrase slightly: What have the unions ever done for us?

Modern May Day “celebrations” can be dated back to the late-19th century as a commemoration of Chicago’s Haymarket Massacre in 1886. Twelve people died (including 7 policemen) when a bomb was thrown during a labour demonstration that was held calling for an 8 hour workday.

How quaint. An 8 hour workday. What kind of starry-eyed idealists were these that believed such things possible? If there are those out there reading this who pay their rent/mortgage, put food on the table and are ready to finance their childrens’ university education, all on an 8 hour workday, raise your hands.

It’s one thing to ask to work only 8 hours a day/5 days a week but another thing entirely to expect to earn a proper living on it. For at least the last 30 years wages have stagnated for the middle class as it shrank in size, squeezed from both burgeoning top and bottom ends. Simply to maintain economic ground, most people have had to work longer and take on increasing amounts of debt.

Occurring simultaneously, union membership has fallen. In the United States, more than one-third of employed people belonged to unions in 1945. By 1979, union membership had fallen to 24.1 percent. Thirty years later, union workers only made up 12.3% of the work force.

A coincidence? Perhaps. We are not unaware of the fact that correlation does not imply causation. There have been many factors, oftentimes interrelated and interdependent, over the past 3 decades that have contributed to the growing fiscal imbalance between work and pay. Still, it is funny that in these days of economic struggle unions and those that belong to them are derided and dismissed as lazy fat cats, bloodsuckers and artifacts of the past.

Of course, May Day festivities and revels long pre-date unions and workers. They go back to pre-Christian, pagan seasonal rituals denoting the end of the long, dark winter in the northern hemisphere. According to Celtic legend, bonfires were set alight at strategically important sites to “mark a time of purification and transition”.

Maybe the time has come to meld the two traditions, modern and ancient. How be we burn some shit down to purify and transition to a more fair and equitable era? And then we can all dance happily around the Maypole.

— revolutionarily submitted by Acaphlegmic

The Great Man Pronounces

If the upper classes are not going to lead by example, what use have we of them then? It is their duty and obligation to educate us and elucidate for us, the grubby lumpen proletariat, the ways in which we should live our lives and to serve them best. In return we allow them untold riches and space in the broadsheets to issue commandments and correctives.

So how are we to understand the merits of shame and opprobrium and learn to show remorse if our betters do not display those traits for us?

To whit, Lord Conrad Moffat Black, Baron Black of Crossharbour’s latest communiqué from Coleman Federal Correctional Complex (even the gaol he inhabits sounds highfalutin) in the pages of this weekend’s National Post. One might think, given the Baron’s present incarcerated circumstances that we would be on the receiving end of some note of contrition; a tutorial of mistakes made, lessons learned and amends to be offered. Meus erroris planto mihi a melior vir, as the great one might say to fill up space with ostentatious portentousness in order to deflect from the fact that he is just another convicted felon.

A hardened criminal doing time who just so happens to get space in a national newspaper whenever he is possessed of a gaseous bubble of opinion to belch out. It is the very same newspaper he once controlled through the now infamous Hollinger International and unceremoniously dumped in a selling frenzy, as a hot air balloonist might when his contraption is dangerously losing altitude and all ballast is tossed overboard in an attempt to avoid crash landing. Just as a beaten whelp of a pup eagerly seeks the outstretched hand of its brutal master in the hopes of the slightest touch of affection, the Post allows Lord Black free reign to let loose his blowsy, clearly comically intended prose stylings whenever he sees fit.

The latest Blackian expulsion came in a 1300+ word endorsement of Sarah Thomson for mayor of Toronto. This ought to secure her a healthy chunk of the fraudulent former multi-millionaire vote but will it be enough to firmly plant her candidacy in the imagination of the average joe voter? Only if a perspective voter looking to Conrad Black — locked up away behind bars off down in Florida as he is — for direction on whom to support in this fall’s mayoral election here in Toronto, possessed the Herculean mental stamina to still be functionally conscious after eleven, verbiage laden, antiquities referencing paragraphs listing all the other cities throughout the world Lord Black prefers to Toronto before he eventually meanders toward the Thomson endorsement in the article’s final paragraph. (See? Imagine that kind of sentence construct stretched out over 3 pages.)

Even then, Lord Black could hardly be considered over the moon with Thomson, referring to her as he does as “… a declared candidate, is youngish, attractive, intelligent, peppy, original, is a competent businesswoman with a colourful past and would work tirelessly for the city.” Not exactly a ringing endorsement, and very likely one that a smart aspiring politician would keep off their Facebook site. What kind of bounce should they expect from having someone with Lord Black’s colourful past refer to their own ‘colourful past’?

The sentiment oozing from the pages of Lord Black’s missive from prison can best be summed up as: well, since we must have elections if we are to insist upon living within the crushing confines of an ill-serving, ill-advised democracy, we could do worse than vote for Sarah Thomson. Let see Ms. Thomson make mayoral hay with that.

Moreover, it is deeply disturbing that after everything Lord Black’s been through, the crimes he has committed, the relationships he has severed, the trust that he’s squandered, he seems fundamentally unchanged and very much unrepentant. Where’s the shame? The remorse? Even after the harsh, brutal treatment that is most certainly meted out behind prison bars to privileged, white collar criminals like Conrad Black, he remains bombastic, monumentally pompous and egregiously supercilious. Everything that we have come to expect from our wealthy, silver spoon-fed, self absorbed and improvident elite. It’s almost as if Lord Black actually still believes, like every other cheap hood who has emerged on the wrong side of the law, that he is an innocent man wrongly convicted.

What lesson are we, the great unwashed, supposed to take from that?

— snivellingly submitted by Acaphlegmic