R.I.P. Pride Funeral Breaks into Protest

Originally posted on RIP Pride:

R.I.P. Pride Funeral breaks into protest and leads the London LGBT Pride march ahead of Barclays and chases UKIP off Pride.

A coalition of individuals belonging to LGBTQI communities and holding a ‘Pride Funeral’ procession, broke through barriers at Oxford Circus to lead this year’s London LGBT Pride Parade. Coffin bearers, flag wavers, banner holders, an undertaker and a samba band sounding a slow funereal beat, all resisted security and stewards who attempted to physically remove them from the street. With flags baring messages of solidarity, politics, freedom and anti-commercialisation, RIP Pride activists solemnly strode the route section from Oxford Circus toward Embankment, until its final destination at the foot of Whitehall. The group’s action was one of sombre defiance against the fee that Pride organisers now charge those who want a place on the historically significant LGBT parade.

Anger at the annual parade reached unprecedented levels this year, when…

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Bradford or Beirut?

Originally posted on Things that Occur to Me:

Where do I live? Bradford or Beirut with a Post Office? This question came to me when I saw a tweet by Richard Horsman, “former wireless hack [in Bradford], now Journalism Teaching Fellow @LeedsTrinity”, saying that one of his students was “apprehensive” about working in Bradford City Centre and “doesn’t feel safe”.


It’s weird how a tweet can shock you.

The response was swift and varied, from “Stop being so bloody soft” and “Tell em Bradford is a fantastic, friendly, intelligent city with a wholly undeserved reputation” to one, just one, agreeing that on a Saturday night it can be rough. My response was to invite the trainee journalist out round my city, to show them the…

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(In Defence of) Bradford


The city I live in and no one ever
brags about

with the mills done up
as posh flats
and its workers
left to rot.

Sirens go off every ten
there’s dickheads on the roads

BRI’s a nightmare;
and the theatre’s overpriced.

From the edges of Baildon
and Shipley
the upper-racists moan:


with their Bangladesh
and imported silk scarves.

Hypocrites come in packs;
everyone’s miserable
and the weather’s always grim

(and, yes, that hole is still

But spend a couple of hours in Kebabeesh
and your troubles go away

My Thai or Chinese;
spoilt for choice for the best
fish ‘n’ chips.

Catch a beer down the 1 in 12
with some anti-fascist skins

watch an EDLer
get dropped
right outside the bus

It all happens in Bradford
(we’ve got our own Batman).

You can smoke a shisha inside
or get away with a joint

out on the street or in the park.

No one likes the police.

A fair few Tories and Labourites

but more and more people
seem to hating
George Galloway.

Poetry. Yeah.

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Yeah, I Saw Jurassic World and it was Better than Most Hollywood Films these Days


Popular, Hollywood Blockbusters are getting worse. Too remakes/reboots/reimaginings/”spiritual” spin-offs/whatever-you-wanna-call-em; or just straight-forward, crappy sequels continuing film franchises I grew up with in the ’80s and ’90s (when blockbusters were actually GOOD).

Ask my mates and they’ll tell you I’m sceptical of most things new. Every few years it seems there’s a Terminator film worse than the last; and I’ll never forgive those Alien Vs. Predator fuck-ups for trying, spectacularly, to destroy everything I loved about James Cameron and Ridley Scott’s Alien masterpieces (I’m still not over that… and doubt I ever will be).

Michael Bay getting his grubby hands into the Ninja Turtles franchise has by no means helped my faith in Hollywood Blockbusters; neither has the fact that the fifth Die Hard film is complete and utter tosh.

We aren’t talking spiritual successors anymore; we’re talking money. Hence why, at the minute, we see countless superhero movies being churned out one after the other, allowing whoever it is who’s bought the rights to quickly cash-in on the latest craze.

I’m getting side-tracked here already, but let’s just say films aren’t films anymore; they’re projects for money earners. It should be common knowledge the producers couldn’t give two fucks about what you, me or anyone else who needs their a fix. Like with most things, the reality is obvious: the bigger the profit, the shittier the output; and the less likely corporate execs are to care what the consumer wants and/or what the obsessed fanboy needs.


There’s been talk of a fourth Jurassic Park film coming out for years and I’ve kept my ear close to the ground purely as a Jurassic Park fan (I saw it at the pics in ’93 and had most of the figures). But upon hearing the news, I’ve never really felt excited or encouraged hearing the fourth film go into production; and the urge to see it as soon as it hit cinemas never really appealed to me for the reasons stated above.

Exaggerated science, well-staged action, likeable characters and big fucking dinosaurs worked with the first Jurassic Park; things got sillier in the sequel, The Lost World, but it was still entertaining; while Jurassic Park III ended up being pretty bad, in a b-movie sort of way. The last thing I wanted was another one of my childhood franchises being ruined and dumbed-down further, with boring characters and an overuse of green-screen special effects (and a video-game tie-in release thrown in for good measure).

Let’s cut to the chase. Jurassic World is a straight-forward sequel: no bullshit, the park is open and the dinosaurs are taking over. The surprising part, at least for me, is the fact that it’s actually good. Ok, it’s better than good. I saw it at the cinema a couple of days ago and already thinking it deserves a second viewing.

The fact that it shows human beings fucking around with nature and getting eaten for it through their own ridiculous use of science could be considered entertaining and successful for the most part, but Jurassic World works simply ’cause it feels like a Jurassic Park movie. The annoying kids, animal rights theme, obsession with Bio/Computer Technology advancements — they’re all there. It’s lacking the suaveness of Geoff Goldblum and the paternalism of Alan Grant; but Jurassic World’s got a tough frontman in the form of Chris Pratt, which was arguably lacking in the films before.


My biggest fear was seeing an endless amount of CG-effects and the dinosaur world not looking anything like the actual world. Come on, you know that feeling you get when you watch films with crappy computer-generated effects and it just feels like the human characters are overlapping computer layers and aren’t really there? Yeah, I know, they’re movies, but it’s nice to be immersed in the big-screen world, feel the tension and the struggle, otherwise what’s the point?

The first Jurassic Park blended CGI with live-action dinosaur robots seamlessly and should be considered a milestone in bridging modern and more traditional special effects. Jurassic World made me reminisce of the days where the benefits of CGI were been utilized in big budget summer blockbusters, where digital sprites had a stage presence and were actually interesting to look at. This is a quite an appealing film to the eye, it has to be said, showcasing the strengths of CGI as it’s become more advanced since the days of the first film; while co-workers of the late Stan Winston even have a hand in the animatronics.

The effects are impressive, but they’re by no means the be all and end all of the film. The atmosphere of a fully-functioning dinosaur amusement park is generated through slow-building of early scenes and the viewer relating to the sceptical nature of its central character, Owen (Pratt). We all know things are going to kick-off, but we remain intrigued enough to see how.

I like the idea that Capitalism is basically nearing its peak of ridiculousness; so ridiculous, in fact, that the CEO of Jurassic World, Mr Masrani (Irrfan Khan), has decided he wants to “build” the ultimate dinosaur as a tourist attraction in the form of “Indominus” — half raptor, half t-rex. We’re moving away from the semi-Scientific realism of the first film here, to more King Kong/Godzilla territory, but the social commentary/satire is handled well to the point that it feels like we’re shouting down a long and empty corridor to try and get the big-money corporate execs to listen.

The danger of Jurassic World’s exploitative scientific methods is very much a realistic concept (I, for one, wouldn’t be surprised if some big-headed science division thought it would be a good idea to re-create dinosaurs, sometime in the future, for the sake of opening a Sea World-style theme park and making profit). The decision to expand Dr. Henry Wu’s role (from the first film) is significant in making the point that human beings have the capabilities/stupidity to outdo themselves with their own creations, with no expense spared.

Don’t you wish human beings would stop being so greedy and pig-headed in their attempts to define nature?

Me too. Still, it’s nice to see a few of them get eaten for it; and it’s good to see a franchise still going strong without a crappy sequel tarnishing its name in the modern day. I liked Jurassic World — I could see it again — I’m particularly impressed with whosever’s idea it was to resurrect the Wrangler jeep from the first film. Nice touch.


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Imported Racist (Poem)



Why, hello, middle-aged British man
who has come to the great land of DEFINITELY NON-RACIST Australia

What’s all this about wanting the immigrants to go home
and taking your country back?

I like your Queen and Country tattoos
— really patriotic —

and that swastika shirt, do you know it came from India?

Yeah, I know, you wanna be a punk. Angry and all that
’cause the boats brought the darkies here.

Blame the system,
get the guns out,
let’s take it back to 1939

and you can tell me again
how you’re becoming a minority on your own land

oh how you “get nothing”, “they get everything”
yah, yah, yah.

And we can keep on pretending
that you never screwed the aborigines,
that this country really belongs to you.

in you fucked-up little dream world

they’ll be no remorse, I promise you
when you’re idiocy becomes the death of you.


… and The Dail Mail’s reporting is just as laughable

Poetry. Yeah.

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No Platform for the far-right: An open letter to the organisers of ‘Does Islam clash with British values?’

Originally posted on Anti-Fascist Network:

golding-yaxley-waters Golding, Waters and Yaxley-Lennon

This letter is in response to an organisation called the Islamic Research and Education Academy, which has organised a discussion on Friday 12th June under the title ‘Does Islam clash with British values?’ So far, so normal. However, as part of this debate they have chosen to invite Paul Golding, leader of Britain First, Stephen Yaxley-Lennon (AKA ‘Tommy Robinson’, ex-leader of the EDL) and Anne Marie Waters of UKIP, ‘Sharia Watch’ and founder with Yaxley-Lennon of the Islamophobic ‘Victims of Islamic Cultural Extremism’.

We believe this invitation extended to some of the most well-known names in the Islamophobic far-right is dangerous and that at best the organisers could be accused of naivety. It is also not clear that any of the speakers from the ‘Islam’ side of the debate represent a significant number of British Muslims.

Fascists and racists on the extreme right…

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Reactionary Anti-Fascist Anti-Poetry (or Something)…

Well it’s not like I’m musically talented

so I’ll swear a lot
and call you a cunt to your face.

It’s pent-up anger.

Ain’t got the bottle like Joe Strummer
to own someone with a voice
or guitar
– jacked in the acoustics at 12
(never bothered with it since).

Don’t bother digging up those awful attempts
at rapping
(they’re embarrassing to say the least)

it was more my thing wanking off
to Romeo & Juliet;
setting fire to my dead Mum’s
leftover novels

till I hated everyone
and everything
– never meaning to be prejudice
but guilty, nonetheless.

Poetry was never meant to be permanent:
it gets tossed around, going with
whatever the feeling

I could’ve been anything: a (good) writer
or right-back;
just another admin monkey
or bored barman, sneaking in the spirits.

Could’ve even been a Nazi:
it’s easy, mean and they’re off their fucking

but even with all the wasted talent
aggravations, misguided abuse

time saw me get off the fence a lot quicker
than most folks back home

and overthinking’s enough to ensure
I’ll keep hating poetry
and never be as gone as they are.


Poetry. Yeah.

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Bit of Peace

If you’re happy all the time
people notice when you’re pissed
or sad.


If you’re miserable all the time
you eat yourself away
and no one gives a fuck.

Poetry. Yeah.


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