Love In at the Lecture Theatre

7pm Kings College London, a lecture theatre full of students, seasoned activists, paper sellers and 'gap yahs in Tanzani-ah' folk, all the ingredients for a good old traditional occupation.  The problem was, as the meeting progressed, one by one the seasoned activists left the room.  Ever the optimist I stuck it out, until the temperature of the room became nearly as stifling as the third rate oratory.

Rewinding for some context.  This lecture* was called by the Education Activist Network (EAN), which apparently ‘coordinates resistance to the cuts in higher, further and adult education. It provides a forum for staff and students to facilitate and empower joint action.’  What’s that I smell?

The whole debacle began on a high note; Indymedia was reporting the Sussex occupation and I quickly started to weigh up if I was wearing enough layers for a night in a lecture theatre.  I needn’t of worried.  Two hours of repetitive self-congratulatory verbal diarrhoea from the paper selling proletariat assaulted every one of my senses until I came over in a rash.   I think I am allergic to socialists.  I usually pack anti-histamine before this kind of event, but all this talk of solidarity and my guard was dropped.  I should have seen it coming; it’s that time of year.  This is just a front for the NUS delegates who still have wet dreams about leading the next SDS, without the participatory politics bit of course.  The will to power is strong comrades.

Respite was served by few; a young idealistic lad who was less than impressed with a female police casualty was unfortunately dogged by the ‘people’, you paper sellers really know how to make friends.  Well done.  Have a cookie.

Clare Solomon who cut the bullshit and announced a workshop entitled ‘Occupations, direct action, logistics and legalities.’ Provided a whirlwind of fresh air.  See the link to facebook event at the end of this post.

A comical moment came when a lad, who was initially refused to speak due to not being on the chairs face book friend list managed to speak after someone shouted ‘he’s French’.  We all no how awe struck the commies get when they meet someone who is actually active.

Unfortunately, every other speaker started with ‘I am such and such and I am this and I am …’ followed by the usual uninspiring, useless, self congratulating monologue expected from the gravy train union leaders, revelling in the applause handed to them by the crowd.  The order in which people spoke dictated by the length of their revolutionary paper-selling career.  People clapped over people talking, a few turned it into a game, seeing how much of someone’s rhetoric they could clap over.  The droll continued, whipping up a state of almost jingoism in some yet anger in others.  One seasoned activist decided the nepotism and bullshit had gone to far and defying the chair, stood up offering practical advice on organising occupations and direct action.  Something the students are in dire need of.   Fitwatch was taken off line as he spoke.  Alas, he was immediately shouted down in a gross display of pack behaviour incited by the chair.  The irony being, the person trying to talk is more ‘revolutionary’ than the room put together.  If the chair knew who he was there would have been a shameless display of public masturbation akin to a Japanese porn shoot and I assure you that a little self-flagellation would have taken place in certain corners of the room.

A poorly facilitated, logistically useless meeting.  Easily forgivable behaviour.  It’s a long time since anyone has listened to these people, and they do tend to get carried away around wintertime.  Do not forget, these people did not take the Tory HQ, they did not organise the students, and we do not need to do what they say.

Organise, resist, occupy.

Occupations, direct-actions, logistics and legalities link