Aye, it were a bit quiet of late. On me walks, the walls a bit empty of messages other than advertising. A year on from going under the knife and surgeon moost have cut oot the bits that ink me pen or me inspiration were gassed by anaesthetic. Or creeping mists of awld age. Its enough ter work and keep oop with being union shop steward. I feel a bit chumbawamba "I get knocked doon, an' I think long and hard aboot getting oop again, boot yer can't keep me doon...well maybe I'll have a wee rest aboot now. I need a watta drink, an iron tablet an a bit of sitting' doon." Boot I still go walking every Sunday with me marra Sam oop to Newtown and Saturday's with Mrs Belgo Geordie ter co-op and sit down ter full breakfast of rashers and trimmings.
An' ah miss the messages aboot mayhem on streets an' borax poked at owt right of Mr Marx, Engels and Trotsky and coompany. An' owt financial, raze it ta ground, liberate and redistribute, then have a tab an' an ale. Aye it were me thought, not many these days, tha' Newtown had spat oop the fur ball of anarchy, diversity and acceptable levels of weirdness, awaiting the triumphal march of turning politically pale blue with a tinge of rose and mint green. An end of the days where every available surface were slathered with political post-its from yon merry band (well not merry more snarly) of lads and lasses of anarchy. Newtown walls seems ter have been reduced ter a trickle amongst music posters, advertising, lost pets, make yer fortune pyramid selling, selling flat mates and flat mates wanted - all on A4 paper scraps.
On me travels I notice the anarchist driven poster factories tend ter plaster surfaces in Lakemba, Campsie and even Marrickville more so than Newtown. And last May Day the hoard in black with red triangles of flags were, well, not many if any. Some were surfacing in Socialist Alliance. A lad from that group I talked to said anarchist activism were more to stalk and take on the growing number of splintering white supremacist groups. Summat the rest of oos on communist an' socialist left aren't keeping oop with in the Trump/Abbot/Dutton/Morrison era. And not being a society like, the anarchists since the loss of Black Rose in Enmore, were in oor small neck of woods, smaller cells and collectives that ebbed, formed and did their own thing then vanished spider like in their black y-fronts an red capes and laser eyes inta the shadders.
So it were grand on recent ganders oop ter Newtown metropolis ter see the return of the black and red anarchomob posters plastering oop and doon the corridor of King Street. Roobbish bins, shop windas, door posts, stationary dogs and across advertising dross. So in a tip of me flat cap, I post a recent selection tha made me stop, or think, chuckle or snort thru the tangled hairs in me nostrils. Enjoy.
Belgo-Geordie moost declare a conflict of interest in tha' he thinks there is nowt so grand than a large group of citizens oot on streets making' themselves heard aboot the stoof that matters ter them and apologises that of late he has not been able to take part in sooch moments boot is working oot and eating' his radishes ter get back oop ter shape...
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Grand of Nike ter use this un-fer new plimsols Fare Evaders |
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Yon anarchist recruiting poster...yer know mayhem needs yer now more than ever |
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Royal Comissun findings |
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In Marrickville of course |
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Doon by Sydenham station...oldie boot grand 'un |
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Sum 'un had prickly pear in their undies- nuns missed the spellings on this lad or lass |
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And in case pen writer above missed point... |
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