Edited by Neil Anderson, Friday, 9 Aug 2013, 20:51
Hot summer of eighty-something, the people were on the streets, rioting. I was busy training to be a post-office clarke.
For the past three years me and my friends had been plotting the revolution; by taking drugs and not going to bed at the proper time. We saw the world that we wanted to achieve, mostly sepia visions of the Paris Commune and George Orwell's Barcelona. What we lacked was a plan.
We'd argued, Marx, Lenin, Trotsky, Dhao. .
I was taken by syndochalism, especially of the anarcho form. So I became a worker, and didn't like what I saw. The rest of them...
So when the riots came we sat around doing drugs rather than getting out there and organizing? Not quite.
the day that I realized that I wasn't Trotsky
Hot summer of eighty-something, the people were on the streets, rioting. I was busy training to be a post-office clarke.
For the past three years me and my friends had been plotting the revolution; by taking drugs and not going to bed at the proper time. We saw the world that we wanted to achieve, mostly sepia visions of the Paris Commune and George Orwell's Barcelona. What we lacked was a plan.
We'd argued, Marx, Lenin, Trotsky, Dhao. .
I was taken by syndochalism, especially of the anarcho form. So I became a worker, and didn't like what I saw. The rest of them...
So when the riots came we sat around doing drugs rather than getting out there and organizing? Not quite.
But that's another post.