From the monthly archives:

March 2006

Just Another Dead Nigger

by shahid on March 28, 2006

The footage shows the paratrooper dying with his trousers around his ankles. Monkey noises are heard being made at the beginning of the officers’ shift and after Mr Alder’s death.

“I do not think these noises were directed specifically at Mr Alder,” Mr Hardwick said. However, he added: “If the racist connotation of these noises was not obvious to the officers, they should have been.”

What worries me about the outcome is not so much the death of a black man in police custody (that is quite normal in Britain, even in the 21st century), but that the judge could come out with the idea that the monkey noises made by the pigs (nice trick, pigs impersonating a higher life form) while the paratrooper was dying, choking to death on his own blood and vomit for 11 minutes, were not directed specifically at him.

Were they watching a special showing of Animal Planet in which they were required to impersonate their simian superiors? No. They were having a laugh at a dying black man.

Mr. Alder must have walked through fire to become a paratrooper. If there’s one place racism is even more institutionalised than in the police force, it’s the army. He trained to defend his country. That shows loyalty, commitment and courage.

The officers involved are not doing any time. They never do.

Rest in peace Mr. Alder, if you can. My condolences to your family who are bravely fighting for justice in the face of oppression and institutionalised, ingrained, state-rewarded racism.

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Truth, Misery, Negativity

by shahid on March 23, 2006

I don’t feel like writing about the horrible stuff so much now.

It’s there. It always has been and always will.

There’s still al lot of good out there. I must hold onto hope for humanity and the future. I must continue to do what I can in my own private way for the benefit of others.

Carping on about negative rubbish all the time is not helping anyone, but that’s not to say I won’t comment from my perspective (ranting!) from time to time.

Furthermore, I think that my blog has portrayed me as a one-dimensional ranting paki with a chip on my shoulder. Whilst that is almost certainly partially true, it isn’t all me - and certainly not what I’m about most of the day.

I will continue to speak up against hypocrisy, evil and tyranny and I will continue to take the side of the oppressed and the victims of injustice, whatever their race, colour, creed, or preferred football team. (If I’m feeling particularly saintly, I might extend my support to Manchester United fans, but hey, one step at a time)

Salaam.

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Democracy

by shahid on March 20, 2006

“This is not the Iraq we were promised when the coalition invaded our country”

Tony Blair, George Bush. Donald Rumsfeld, Condi Rice, Colin Powell and the rest of you. Pile yourself up in a naked pyramid and toss each other off at gunpoint. And while you’re doing that and dogs are biting your legs, leaving you bleeding and dying, answer the Iraqi people. Tell them why their children are still dying.

Why don’t you explain to the people of the world where that 9 billion dollars you stole from the Iraqi people went? Where did the cash go? The cash for saving lives and building a country again, that you destroyed. Where?

Why don’t you tell the American people why you give Israel billions of tax dollars while making the Iraqi people pay for your thousand dollar shoes and palatial yachts? Why do you shoot prominent Iraqis? Why do you bomb weddngs? Why do you bomb mosques? Why do you dress up as Arabs whilst carrying bombs in your cars?

Why is your culture so morally bankrupt? Why are you such hypocrites? Why are you such brazen thieves? Why are you such bloody killers? Why do you claim the moral high ground while mired in the morality of Satan?

Thieves, robbers, looters of the world, give the Iraqi people back their country.

Why are you surprised that the world despises you?

What is democracy? It is corporate excess, fat fuckers with obscene habits and a hatred of humanity, putting puppets and cunts like Bush and Blair into power through lies and fraud. It is control of the masses through mindless media. It is the suppression of the appetite for truth through the provision of soulless entertainment. Democracy is the freedom to turn everything itno a sale. Everything. Including human sacrifice on a global scale. That is democracy. That is freedom.

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Infected

by shahid on March 19, 2006

I’ve got too much energy to switch off my mind
But not enough, to get myself organised

Since starting work I feel as if a virus has invaded my body, assaulting truth, arresting any searching, freezing my assets, corroding my values.

Twenty years ago, a friend recommended I listen to the recently released “Infected” album (we had vinyl in those days you see) and I duly bought it. The The is of course, Matt Johnson, one of the most brutal and insightful lyricists in pop. His later release “Mind Bomb”, a little more commercial, was an almost prophetic glimpse into the landscape of today.

Half a lifetime has passed since I was erm, infected by Infected.

A few months of work and already I am short of the focus to peer above the parapet, or under the rocks. Stay in the middle. Stay safe. Turn on the telly. Browse for meaningless shit. Forget about life. Read the Metro, the same headline superimposed over every tube rider’s face, the same stories releasing fear, drip-drip-drip - into our unfeeling veins, day by unnoticed day.

When I heard Infected half a lifetime ago, it possessed me, infected me, took me over, carried me on a crest of an unstoppable tsunami of emotions previously forbidden and out of reach. Now, twenty years later, I understand it, because I have lived it. (At one point, I too felt as if I’d tossed my dog-eared bible overboard, along with my soul)

Now I am in that rat-race tunnel again. Sure, I can enjoy my job and fit in and do the work and absorb the company credo and add value and be a team player and run the meetings and champion the programmes. And sure I can pay the bills and watch the shows that everyone watches and talk about a life that exists in somebody’s chequebook. What happened to the truth? Was it too real?

My hard-drive and my mind are cluttered with a million unfinished strands of thought, barely started, barely thought of. Dissipation, dissipation, dissipation - going back to an earlier The The line “My mind has been polluted and my energy diluted”

Have I fashioned my life into a The The album? Or did I just follow the template? Did I ever really have the choice?

Which album will I quote if I get to 60? Don’t tell me, let me guess - Dusk?

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