Youth In Revolt... Or Revolting Youth?

This is not a "revolt".

It isn't a "protest".

It isn't even "mindless thuggery".

I don't often write about current affairs, but I'm not sure how I can ignore the fact that, here in the UK, our towns and cities are being burnt to the ground, looted and pillaged by The Young People.

One of the reasons I usually choose not to comment on such things is that I'm an (un?)apologetic middle-class Guardian-reading leftie pinko liberal who always wants to look for the root causes and underlying problems that ultimately shape our society.

Another reason is that, as a writer, I always try to see things from other people's points of view. I'm interested in what makes people tick and what drives them to behave the way they do. I can't help but play devil's advocate in my own mind in even the most despicable of circumstances.

To complicate matters (because like most human beings, I'm a ball of confusion), I'm also - as anyone who's read this blog for any amount of time will know - thoroughly misanthropic. I have an angry reactionary inside me who dreams of leaving the human race to destroy itself and going off to live on an island with puffins. (Because puffins are COOL.)

With all this going on inside my head at any one time, how can I write about the sort of scenes we've witnessed in this country over the last few nights with any kind of objectivity? Simple answer: I can't. But thankfully I don't have to.

Because these are not "riots".

The people involved are not protesting the police shooting a young man in Tottenham last week.

Neither are they rebelling over the fact that the council closed down their youth club. (And if I see one more interviewed yoof say "no one respects us", I'll smash something myself. Respect yourself first, morons!)

They're certainly not "mindless thugs" either. They know exactly what they're doing. They just don't care.

They're bullies. They're thieves. They're vandals. They're arrogant and selfish and opportunistic... and all the traits I deplore most about humanity at its lowest.

So excuse me if I don't believe this is time for rooting out the underlying social problems. Excuse me if I'd just rather send in Jack Bauer to deal with the lot of them. Call me when that's been done. In the meantime, you'll find me hanging out with the puffins...

International News

We arrived home on Friday night to news of a massive earthquake in New Zealand. We heard this from Louise's brother Adam who lives close to the epicentre in Christchurch. 7.1 on the Richter scale, it happened in the early hours of the morning when Adam was asleep and lasted almost a minute. Homes and commercial property were destroyed - the restaurant across the road from Adam's house collapsed. Fears of an ensuing Tsunami drove people out to their cars to seek higher ground. The roads were soon jammed. Adam couldn't get his own car out of the garage because the power was cut and the electric garage door was jammed. His girlfriend was away from home visiting friends in another part of the country and Adam couldn't reach her on the phone. He could however call his parents and family, 12,000 miles away, who were able to offer moral support and a friendly voice when he needed to hear it most. He also acted on their advice to take food and warm clothing / blankets with him... though when he calmed down later, he realised all he'd actually managed to grab was a pillow and a jar of gherkins.

While Louise spoke to her brother and her family, I searched the news for updates. Did I find any? The BBC? Sky News? Teletext? None of them were even mentioning it. I turned on the ITV evening news to find a large segment taken up promoting ITV's new breakfast TV service which will be replacing GMTV from today. In other words, an advert. We supposedly live in a 24 hour rolling news society, yet all this actually means is the same three stories rotating ad infinitum. Apparently some government advisor is being accused of phone tapping. That's pretty scandalous (though not as scandalous as the idea of former News Of The World editor working in a key government position in the first place), but it's the sort of story the media go overboard on because it's about The Media. After I'd heard the same soundbites five times with no mention of a disaster in a country that, though on the other side of the world, still has a major expat community, I gave up on the TV. Oh, and William Hague might or might not be gay. Who cares, British news media? They did eventually get round to reporting the story 24 hours later (when they had some nice pictures to show), but it was hardly breaking news by then.

Fortunately, the blogging community is far better at reporting current events. Many thanks to The Sagittarian for her updates. Best wishes to her and any other Kiwis who may be reading this.

Morrissey Does It Again... But Does What Exactly?

Defending Morrissey against accusations of racism sometimes feels like being a holocaust denier. Except... context is everything.

It should have been cause for celebration. Two of my greatest heroes in conversation. Marsden poet and part time Scaremonger Simon Armitage interviews Morrissey - my idea of bliss! But then it all turned sour due to another of those incendiary remarks that always get Morrissey in trouble and fuel the fire of his detractors and all those who believe he's a racist.

Whatever you believe about Morrissey and his outspoken opinions, this blogpost won't change your mind. I'm wasting my time even typing it. But as one of Moz's biggest fans, there's a part of me feels I can't stay silent when he does something like this. Doing so while continuing my vociferous support of his work may indeed seem like tacit agreement with his supposed racist opinions. And so I granted a rare interview of my own...



"OK, Rol, let's get right to it. Do you think Morrissey, your Number One Musical Hero, the artist you believe has spoken more about 'your life' in his lyrics than any other, the 'pop star' you consider the most quotable of his - or any other - generation... do you think Morrissey is a racist?"

"No. I think Morrissey is a misanthrope. As a partial misanthrope myself, I recognise that in him. (Normally I wouldn't use the word 'partial' to describe my own misanthropy, yet compared with Morrissey... I'm an idealistic humanitarian.) Morrissey takes misanthropy to levels even I occasionally find... extreme. But I'm sure he feels entitled to think that way, and why should I care if he does? Sometimes I feel bad for him, but I don't condemn him for it."

"Yeah, yeah, but you're getting off the point. You really think when he says the Chinese are a 'subspecies' for the way they treat animals... he's not being racist? Really?"

"Oh boy, where do I start? Firstly, whatever else you might think of Morrissey, I can tell you one thing unequivocally... if you think he's stupid: you're wrong. A remark like that, with his reputation, he'd have to be a complete idiot to say something like that and not know that it'd kick up a shitstorm."

"So why say it?"

"Well, it's no secret that Morrissey is someone who has more sympathy for animals than his fellow human beings. This is the songwriter who gave us Meat Is Murder, who is a vocal supporter of extreme animal rights activism, who refuses to perform at any venue that even allows meat on the premises while he's there. Now it appears he's got a bee in his bonnet about China's record on animal welfare. And he's got an interview with a major UK newspaper. And he knows that merely saying "I don't like the way the Chinese treat cats and dogs" as part of that interview won't be enough to make the headlines he feels this issue deserves. So he chooses far more controversial words, words that he knows will guarantee headlines and a stink. He doesn't care if a few more people hate Morrissey as a result of those comments - he long since gave up caring how many people hate Morrissey. But if one more person is made aware of a subject he feels passionately about... if one more voice is raised in protest as a result of his comments... then in Morrissey's mind, it'll all be worth while."

"But... 'sub-species'... isn't that verging on the kind of language Nazis would use?"

"Do you know what? I think if Morrissey ever met me, he'd think I was a subspecies too. I had a bacon sandwich for my lunch, I'm having chicken for tea. I already know he thinks I'm a murderer. I'm certain he'd rather I died than one more pig or chicken. He feels that strongly about vegetarianism and animal rights. Anyone who doesn't agree with him, I'm sure he reckons they're a lesser form of life. I'm not losing any sleep over that. I grew up on a farm where animals were sent to market every few months and turkeys had their necks wrung at Christmas. I am his enemy. Compared with Morrissey's 'higher' ideals, I probably am a sub-species. I don't agree with him, but I respect his right to speak out about something he feels so very passionately about."

"But after every other such remark he's made in the past..."

"All of which are a matter of context. Ignorant people complained that Asian Rut or National Front Disco were racist songs, when I consider them outsider anthems. Just as November Spawned A Monster looked at negative attitudes towards the handicapped. Controversial, yes... bigoted? I'm sorry, I just don't see it."

"There are many who would disagree with you about that..."

"There are many who would disagree with me about all kinds of things. And I don't expect to change their opinions any more than I expect them to change mine."

"So basically, nothing Morrissey says will make you think ill of him? He can do no wrong in your rose-tinted fan-worship sunglasses?"

"No. He can do wrong. He has. Do I wish he hadn't used the words he used in that interview? Absolutely. Because, whatever his motivation, his carefully considered choice of language won't change anything, all it does is give the anti-Morrissey lobby another stick to beat him with. But just like Simon Armitage, it doesn't change how I feel about him as an artist."

"Because you don't believe he's a racist."

"Because I don't believe he's a racist."

"But if you did...?"

"If I did believe he was a racist, would it change how I felt about his music and his art? No. It'd change how I felt about him as a person, but it wouldn't stop me loving There Is A Light That Never Goes Out or Every Day Is Like Sunday or First Of The Gang To Die. Here's a question for you... Does that make me a racist?"

You Have The Right To Remain Misanthropic

According to the Association of Chief Police Officers, I could very well be a Menace To Society. In a recent radio advertising campaign*, these top cops highlighted certain types of behaviour the public ought to be vigilant about... after all, you never know when there might be a potential terrorist in your midst.

"The man at the end of the street doesn't talk to his neighbours much, because he likes to keep himself to himself."

Or maybe he just thinks his neighbours are annoying?

"He pays with cash because he doesn't have a bank card..."

Or perhaps he can't remember his pin number?

"...and he keeps his curtains closed because his house is on a bus route."

What, you'd prefer he was an exhibitionist? Free live nude shows for the kids passing on the bus? Is that what you're suggesting? Oh, no, wait, my bad - we're not supposed to walk around naked in our own homes, are we?

"This may mean nothing, but together it could all add up to you having suspicions."

Or it could mean you're a nosey-parker busy-body with far too much time on your hands.


But wait, the foremost fuzz aren't done yet...

"The man two desks down from you at work looks at online aerial photos, because he's thinking of moving house."

Or perhaps he's building a missile in his cellar?

"He rents three lockups, full of his mother's things he just can't throw out."

But what about that fourth lock-up, the one his mother's decomposing corpse is locked in?

"He paid for a flight with cash, but that's because he's a spontaneous kind of guy..."

Or maybe he was in a desperate hurry to get away from his prying, judgmental (or just plain mental) colleagues?


In short: being vaguely antisocial, minding your own business, and keeping yourself to yourself is the new blowing up airports. Lock me up and throw away the key. Just don't expect me to make polite smalltalk with my cellmates...




*I keep telling you: radio advertising... that's the real menace to society.