Author: Hannah Nicklin

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Edinburgh: day the first

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image shared via CC on Flickr, click through for original

Haven’t quite worked out my policy* on blogging about shows I see in Edinburgh, yet, nor do I really have two spare hours to rub together to do so anyway… So expect sporadic at best. Will talk about things I love though. And Oh Fuck Moment (or ‘the show on at 5:30’ as the usher at St. George’s West demurely put it when she had to gather us together) is definitely one of them.

Supportively participative, by turn extremely funny, poignant, breathtaking, and wince-inducing as anything I’ve seen for a long while. And some fucking amazing writing. Chris Thorpe and Hannah Walker sit around a board meeting type table in a brightly lit magnolia coloured room with no windows, and talk to you about fuck ups. Really, monumental, absolutely no-way-back, fuck ups. And ask you about yours (mine was rubbish, I’m glad I didn’t read it out) and talk to you about chaos, and society, and how we learn from stupid, human mistakes, and how we like to pretend ‘we’re perfect beings who occasionally fuck up. Not Fuck Ups who occasionally do something perfect’.

It also had this amazing line. Which the second it came out of Hannah’s mouth I knew was Chris’, though only later did I really know how much.

‘He smoked cigarettes like they were an antidote to death’ (paraphrased, with apologies)

My best friend smokes like that. He also thinks he’s a fuck up. Because of a couple of things he did in his life which he can’t undo. Including not visiting his mother just before she died. When he was 15. 15. I wish we lived in a society that grew people who could forgive themselves for fuck ups like that. A society in which ‘fuck ups’ were more accepted would be one with much better politicians, press, and ensuing #ukriot debates, for a start.

And we would know who at the National Theatre called someone a ‘cunt’, too.

Today: Alma Mater, After the End, Alvin Sputnik, Bryony Kimmings, (g)host city, and Paper Disco.

P.S. It’s proper beautiful here.

*policy? Shut the fuck up, Hannah.

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I can understand them.

Riot

I can understand them.

I shouldn’t have to couch this in apologies about not condoning of course. But I will.

Because there is a difference. I wouldn’t do it. But I can understand it.

Because actually I think the most important thing is trying to understand it, and the reason this is happening is because people don’t or can’t try to understand people; they’re just ‘mindless’ ‘scum’ ‘youths’ ‘black’ ‘pigs’ ‘anarchists’ ‘protestors’ ‘chavs’ ‘lazy’ ‘stupid’ ‘fuzz’ or one of any number of words that means ‘them not us’.

Every day in many ways you are told about what you should have. What you should wear, the kind of phone, the brand of trainers, the size of TV. But not you. You don’t have the money. We’ll give you the aspiration. The one for the stuff, mind, not skills or education, we don’t want you thinking about it. And we don’t tell you that it’s an empty addiction, that it’s never enough. And every now and then we flash a golden ticket in front of your eyes, a game show, a talent contest, a lottery. Take a chance, they say, life is just a game of snakes and ladders and you may just hit the ladder that takes you all the way to the top.

Brands aren’t people. They’re massive. There are no real people behind that.

And there are whispers of people getting something for nothing

And then it’s a corner shop, not a chain, it’s someone’s livelihood. But after you’ve broken one window, why not another, what’s stopping you? And it feels so good, it makes you feel strong, you’re having an effect. Mostly people look down on you, you can see it in their eyes. Now they’re afraid of you. Scared. You’re on the news. On TV, it’s reality tv where you dictate the camera angles.

You don’t hear or feel the fear of the people in the houses, not out on the streets.

You just feel the pounding of the blood and ringing of the alarms in your ears and your body feels like it’s vibrating. You feel strong. You feel like you could do anything. So you do.

‘you’re just trashing your own community’, so what? No one else gives a fuck about it, why should you. (Ever heard of self harm?)

Looting is an act of aggression against the rules of capitalism. A rejection of the label ‘have not’.

You might not phrase it like that

“I’m hungry, I come and I ask for food, I say please. Every day. I come and I see you’ve got lots of it, more than you need. Days, years, decades I come by. Keep on saying please. Year’s we’ve been asking the government. One day I’m just going to take it.” (paraphrasing an interview from the streets of Hackney http://boo.fm/b433800)

People will get hurt. Houses and goods and livelihoods will be broken. People will be jailed, mothers will lose their sons and police officers’ families won’t sleep, wondering if they’ll take another brick or bottle to the face.

And a thousand more horrible things I couldn’t possibly really understand.

But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try.

A broken society is built on the failure of imagination of both government and people.

Stay safe.

Edit, this has got a bit of attention, glad it struck a nerve, even if it was just my half murmured thoughts about a small aspect of it (the looting). If you want to do something (and in general for a good ‘there is such thing as community’ feeling) check out the #riotcleanup hashtag on Twitter. @Artistsmakers is trying to organise community led cleanups.