Tuesday 20 January 2015

Episode 23: Purged by fire

'From Under Dark Clouds...' is a Gonzo fictionalisation of current events in Greece as seen through the eyes of our unnamed hero as he fumbles from paranoia to public office, under the mentorage of the shady Socrates.



Tax on Fire
All Tax Arrears will be expunged

It was on all the channels, all day. Scenes of flames licking at the clear night sky, filling it with grey smoke. Firefighters had the block surrounded, but if you asked me it didn’t look like they were putting their backs into it. The newsreaders seemed to be hiding their mirth, desperate to keep up the appearance of toeing the party line. Crowds were gathering like Beatles tickets had just gone on sale and the riot squad were tooled up and ready to extinguish any outbreaks of euphoria. The concrete block that housed the tax department was being purged, dear blogees and paper ash fell like snow at Christmas.


I pulled the door behind me to the sound of dinnerware colliding with the table and my shrilled name. I stopped in guilt seasoned with fear and a slice of chilling realisation. I unclunked the door and casually strolled back into the house with a smile that was the yang-opposite of the wife’s. I kissed her firmly on the mouth and told her I loved her and wouldn't be late (guilt). I necked a glass of wine sitting next to my dinner plate (fear) and grabbed the Vespa keys from the rack (realisation). Then I headed back to the door, trying to ignore the barrage that followed me, not because I am oversensitive but more because I found it quite difficult not to imagine some of the things the wife was suggesting. This one was actually giving me a backache. I peeked through a crack in the doorway and blew a kiss. A warm bread roll narrowly missed my eye.

Mike the IT guy was already downtown but weaving my Vespa through the crowds was not going to be easy. People were spilling onto the streets like it was one of those big football championships where we actually had a chance of winning.

Ground zero was inside a ring of police and armoured cars just waiting for things to get messy and Mike was inside. Walkie-talkies bibbled and squawked all around me. The air was thick with smoke, jubilation and testosterone. I parked the Vespa out of harms way in a little side street and looked for an unguarded alley to slip through. Nothing. Remembering that I was actually an elected official I bowled up to the cordon and offered my credentials, well I offered them but had forgotten to actually have them with me. The officer called for a superior. The superior looked me up and down and asked who I was.

I'm the mayor of—” He looked me up and down again and ordered the subordinate officer to tell me to fuck off. He followed this order with fervour and I fucked off with my tail between my legs. Should have brought the wife.

It wasn't long before the problem was solved; Mike was ejected through a gap in the cordon. He fought off the heavy hand of the law while still managing to grip his phone to his ear.

“Fascist pigs!” in one direction. “Sweeet!” to the phone.
He saw me and ran with eyes like whirligigs.
“Quick, we gotta find a TV!”

We found one soon enough. Every cafe and bar with a big-screen TV had turned it onto the street. This was New Years Eve in the summer but there was no one was singing Auld Lang Syne. I ordered a couple of tax-free beers. Mike kept urging me to pay attention to the screen. Talking heads were soberly discussing the implications. They were not expecting any casualties. Of course! it was Saturday night and the nice people in the tax department wouldn’t dream of hanging around much after they pulled down the shutters on a queue still clutching unstamped forms on a Friday afternoon. The offices were in the middle of a run-down light-industrial area of the city, so homes were not in danger, that said, a couple of adjacent brothels had been evacuated which gave the news team some nice scenes of guilty Johns with shirts pulled over their heads and scantily-clad working girls spilling onto the smoke-filled street. The beer arrived and I ordered some chasers. Mike looked up from his phone and tugged my arm, nearly spilling the beers.

“Any second now,” he whispered.

A distance siren was echoed on the screen as the newscaster interrupted some blathering pundits to go to a live feed of police and firefighters panicking. Security services have gone to red alert as fire breaks out at two more regional tax collection offices!

Mike clinked my glass and smiled. “No more paper trail!”

I really should have understood what Mike meant by that but I was too busy trying to balance all the glasses I was holding. He started dancing a jig and the whole crowd joined in. The police were beginning to make their presence know and I must confess this made me nervous. My face had only just healed from the last time I enjoyed their hospitality. Mike was oblivious, dancing and singing. A chant had begun that made me particularly nervous.

Build a bonfire, Build a bonfire
Put the taxman on the top
Put the coppers in the middle
And burn the fucking lot!

I drained a couple of glasses which not only freed up my hands but eased my uneasiness. This was going to get ugly and I didn't have much beauty left to lose.

I was so frightened that my phone began to quiver in my pocket. Then I realised that it did that when someone was calling. I rested the remaining glass and retrieved the vibrating article from my pocket, the screen said it was Socrates; shit!

“I didn't do it!” I answered.

The voice on the other end paused and replied in a qualified tone. “I know, son.”


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Monday 19 January 2015

A more logical choice on you ballot paper


Elections are coming to a town near you, your democratic right to choose your county’s direction. To choose how it treats you and your neighbours, how it will defend sovereignty, how it will care for the sick and defenceless, how it will educate your children. This is something that we are told time and time again, in the democratic west, is what separates us from our non-freedom-loving enemies. This is what we have fought and died for and yet ask your neighbours and colleagues how they will exercise this power and I guarantee that most will shrug in exasperation. The fact is that democracy is failing and we need another choice on our ballot papers. Not another radical party who will promise to undo the wrongs of the previous government. Not a woman candidate or someone from an ethnic or sexual-orientation minority because the fact remains that whoever you vote for will be a politician.

So here’s the dilemma 

You don’t agree with what the government is doing, so you want them out. You don’t really agree with what the opposition are saying but you know that a vote for them will oust the present ruling part. You could vote for one of the minors like the Greens, who you know are well-intentioned tree-huggers but despite the feeling that you have registered a ‘protest vote’ you know they won’t get in and one of the top two will. You could also just abstain and sulk. This is probably the most realistically productive course of action that we have at our disposal. You can rest assured that whatever happens during the government’s term, it was not sanctioned by you and that you were in no way responsible for any smugness of the minor parties for increased public support.

The present system of electoral democracy is as democratic as facebook or google’s terms of service; we want the free app or service and happily click through the ‘I ACCEPT’ buttons, knowing full well that we are negating our most basic human rights. We know that they will abuse our information, we know they will bombard us with ‘personalised’ messages. We know, yet we do it anyway. In the end, as we are so often told, we get what we deserve.

I propose that an addition be made to every ballot paper from now on that would effectively reinstate democracy into elections. A choice that would give a constitutional voice to what everyone really feels; a vote of no confidence in the party political system. 

 NO CONFIDENCE IN THE PARTY POLITICAL SYSTEM

Once this option gained constitutional democratic support the whole political champions’ league could be restructured in a way that actually served the electorate. We vote for parties based on their manifesto, a collection of promised in exchange for your vote but their is no contract and no recourse if they renege on these promises. We simply have to wait for the next round of elections when we choose another bunch on their promises. Millions vote for X Factor et al but we can't employ this technology to keep our representatives on their toes.   

Greece is in throws of flash elections ignited by a political coup orchestrated by Alexis Tsipras’s SYRIZA party. This left-wing party that was until recently just another ‘also-ran’ but it is now considered by many to be NOT a matter of IF but by how much he will win. The Guardian labelled the charismatic leader a ‘FIREBRAND’ and the markets are getting their knickers in a twist over the GREXIT again. Most want an end to the AUSTERITY measures, which are doing nothing to pull Greece out of debt. However, while they may vote for SYRIZA the vast majority of voters I have spoken to have very little faith that he will deliver on many, if any of his promises. They have become accustomed to hearing rambling rhetoric and having smoke blown up their collective arse.

They have become accustomed to hearing rambling rhetoric and having smoke blown up their collective arse.

In the UK, Russell Brand, a verbose comedian has been urging people not to vote. He admitted that he had never voted and wouldn't until there was change. Al Murray, yet another comedian is standing against Nigel Farage and while he is encouraging the use of our democratic right, they are both saying the same thing; there has to be a better way.

There has to be a better way.

Millions upon millions are spent on election campaigns. Public opinion is carefully courted. Smear campaigns are routinely employed to gain a leg-up on the opposition but after the finally count we are back to square one. The political machine continues to grind and we get a new face playing the same old game.

To be able to call a vote of no confidence would be a fundamentally new choice for the electorate but one that has been available to our representatives since democracy began. The game needs to be changed in favour of those it exists to serve. Come election day you may be confronted by a plethora of choices but don’t be fooled. To be lost for choice doesn't mean you haven’t lost your choice.

To be lost for choice doesn't mean you haven’t lost your choice.

BTW: If you were to hand-write this on your voting form it would count as a defaced vote and ignored.

From Under Dark Clouds

The Century of DIY