Occupy or be somewhere else.

I went along to Occupy Melbourne again last night,
I got caught talking to a girl who is part of the socialist club
at Melbourne Uni. It seems so forced to be able to provide
an opinion in a lucid and informed manner, and whilst we
held a conversation for a good 10 minutes, I had to walk on
after she said she was a Marxist and did I want to read a copy
of the Socialist something or other.
I immediately scanned the front cover for the price tag, $4.

I don't know anything about Marxism, or about Socialism,
but I know that a magazine isn't going to convert my already
disposed mind about what kind of world I want to live in,
and frankly those ideas which are possibly a blueprint
for a better society, still after all these years
dichotomise the overwhelming gap between those who believe [give a shit] but don't do
and those who do but don't believe.

Meaning the people who are from the Marxist side of things,
don't actually get to a position where they can be part of the system,
because they're stuck in this out-dated group where the common people
who hear the word Marxist immediately shun it as something that didn't work then,
why would it work now.
And the others, the people who do get into the system, work at providing
for the whole rather than the individual, at any cost.

An example:
the current governments who work hard at putting on a banquet for the people,
but not catering for the vegans
who can't eat the roast potatoes
because they're cooked in animal fat.

In any case, I gave over my kitchen supplies only to be asked
"Can you put it away yourself?"
so into the kitchen I go, looking for a place for tea towels,
paper towels, fruit and utensils.
Community spirit right there!
It's one thing buying for the poor,
it's quite another to have to distribute it to them.
(In a good way).

So looking around, things had grown.
The number of hippies had certainly grown.

I left and went to Gopals and read an article by Greg Jericho called "Rallies and revolution: just keeping the nutters occupied". I felt that I needed to read both sides of the arguments.

So then off to find a toilet.. I end up in Myer.
I really need to learn where the conveniences are in the city,
because after all (Robert Doyle), humans need to wee.
It's a fact of life. Grrr!
You know we complained that we had to spend a penny in the UK,
but at least there was places where you could actually wee.
I'd quite happily use my useless 5c coins on public conveniences if they built them.

Okay weak bladder rant over.

Back to Occupy.
This time the talks were underway,
what happens if people are arrested after Robert Doyle
tries to move the camps along?
Do we offer legal support, what if they're violent?
What defines violence?
Who defines violence?

And no obviously after the pepper spray incident at #ows, we can't "trust" the police...

Oh it's all too difficult.

Difficult, difficult, lemon difficult!

Critics have accused the protests of lacking a clear message or goal, and in many cities the number of demonstrators has been relatively small.

Which is why, I'm sticking to my guns about, whatever Occupy Wall Street,
manage to do, will eventually trickle down to us at the bottom of the globe.
I'm also sticking to my guns about living within your own means,
and adhering to my list of "Ideals" in a previous post.

And then
"We'll have to come up with what we're going to say when The Queen drives past next week".
OMG.
Call me an old fashioned Brit, but please PLEASE, have some fucking respect.
The Queen is not a politician, the Royals have barely had anything to do with
actual politics for years.

I know, let's call her a fucking scumbag! (They didn't say that)
Let's curtsy and not touch her, and have some respect.

I left shortly after that to meet S for a play
Whitely's Incredible Blue: An Hallucination.

Shhhhhh.... Don't go... It was painfully painful...

And then a few drinks after,
lovely company
and then home.