climate rush - northern style

Out of hours right to protest

Manchester airport 12^th January

Freedom of expression between the hours of six thirty and nine o' clock occurred yesterday at Manchester Airport's Terminal Three. A protest was held by Climate Rush, in a designated zone, away from all passengers and prying eyes with a cordon for the press and some police horses. The press had their own pen, pens and, um, penises?.

Approximately a(two) hundred protestors genteelly descended to make their views on airport expansion known. Edwardian dress was the order of the day, and we didn't disappoint. Top hats and tails, corsets, shawls and a street urchin all made an appearance.

The police were trying to beat us at our own game by leafleting – colour flyers detailing the restrictions on the protest and specifying which lines we were not allowed to cross. We weren't allowed to enter the building without taking a flyer.

Police deployment was so large in Operation Overkill that they predicted up to two hundred baby eating anarchists ready to dissemble planes. Or a bunch of students , or a few anarchotroublemakers and chaos merchants (which is what they got). In return, they had horses outside, a fair few employees on overtime, and also had waiting tactical support unit vans crammed with 20 officers each.

Protestors confirmed their initial thoughts of direct action being the Only Way.

The protest consisted of : a fantastic banner, many people, a string duet (half a quartet, at least); picnic a-plenty, and a brief spiderman impression.

We came, we ate, we danced, we Made Our Feelings Known.

There was (that we know of) one arrest. He'd told me beforehand that he was going to go for it, so i lent him a book to read in the cells, before he made his arrestable dash.


nice work, flower :)

The protest was against airport expansion and domestic flights. In a time of recession and climate crisis, government money should be spent on improvements to rail, trams, and buses, not on subsidies and infrastructure for the aviation industry.

We have waited too long and been misled too many times. It is time for us to take control and to lead social change.

http://www.stopmanchesterairport.org.uk
http://www.climaterush.co.uk/

the girl

is interested and aroused
and embracing, but yet
somewhat saddened
by cybersex.

it's not so much that she's a prude.
in fact, she wholeheartedly approves
of the concept of sex on the net, and
the folk who enthusiastically get
their rocks so very extremely off
in that fashion.

it's a passion.

but


her frustration lies in getting involved,
and as a result, she has resolved
to contact, tomorrow, the RSA
to enquire, without delay,
whether they could help endorse
an Initial Text Processing course (level III)
in one-handed
touch ..
typ...
i...
nnnnnnngggh

so this is the new year

and a happy and joyous 2009 to anyone who may be reading this.

i spent the last night of 2008 playing records for a little bit, drinking whisky and lager (mistake! mistake!), falling over on the dancefloor... when the bells went, i didn't realise the time, and was around nobody that i knew. it felt kinda nice.

i also got given some lovely glittery green liquid eyeliner, and girled it up to fuck :)



unfortunately (?) i didn't get home til 3pm on new year's day, a wee bit shaky and broken. the nice man in wetherspoons, where i had been drinking many tea with chaosmongers, gave me a fluffy blanket to make things all better.

2008 was a weird one. started it with a whimper (falling asleep in a horrible room in leyton, after megabussing back down south after a particularly traumatic visit to my folks). then continued in a whimpery style - got a temp job as a PA to a top parliamentary exec type person. was bored as fuck - in the end, i ended up sorting through a cupboard about three times my height, sifting and filing and shredding papers dating back to the seventies.
it was when my only task was to photocopy a 1970s office procedure manual, that i handed in my notice. and went straight from the fryingpan into the fire.

ended up on a six month contract for an organisation whose in-house publications were full of praise for kingsnorth; my manager came in one day to tell us his son'd been arrested for 'queerbashing' (or words to that effect) and that he was fully behind him/didn't see a problem with his behaviour. the casual racism was rife too.
and what did i do?
absolutely nothing, save stare at the floor, very hard indeed. i'm a bit disgusted with myself.

for about six months of last year, i disappeared completely. woke up, went to work, came home, and then a) watched hollyoaks and whatever else was in front of my eyes b) cried c) drank wine. sometimes independently, sometimes a combo of all three.

and then i quit my job.

i've had three months of running around a bit, finding out who i am again (and i'm NOT the sort of gal who stares at the floor during fuckwittery. really i'm not), taking long baths, hugging my knees, writing again...

in the bigblankhalfyear, i went to my doctor and did one of those tickboxy 'have you felt depressed? suicidal? worthless? wobbly?' test thingies. and got a worried look, a prescription for anti depressants (which i took for a couple of months until i felt kickstarted enough to stop), and an appointment for a clinical psychologist assessment. or, as i prefer to call it, clinical psycholologist. it took a wee while to come through....

it's in two hours - wish me lucks :)


2009 is going to be a very different year.