[originally an email to the morgueatlarge list, sent January 2003]
Reports of my death have been…
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[To the politically squeamish: don’t turn away. I won’t be boring. Or very political.]
This past weekend I went to an anti-war conference in Glasgow. It was, believe it or not, the first time I have been beyond the boundaries of Edinburgh since arriving here in mid December. I know. I was in the passenger seat of Neil’s car, Neil being a resident here at the Salisbury Centre and an all-around good chap. He’s a wee Scotsman (I’m stretching the definition of wee but it’s a word used a lot around here so I’m forcing it into the gap) in his mid-thirties, generous to a fault, always smiling, and he’s put me on to this great cinnamon tea that I’ve been drinking regularly. Oh, yes, the tea. There are so many kinds of tea in the Salisbury kitchen! It is truly a wonderful thing.
So off we rode to Glasgow on a Friday evening, making our way to Neil’s Aunt Sandra’s, there to put down beds and sleep, after stopping off at Neil’s mothers for a feed and to pick up a chair. Come morning we were up bright and early (for a Saturday) and managed, despite being sent in the wrong direction, to get to the venue in time. And out we got, and in we went.
It was a community hall a little bit out of the centre of town. There were banners up and down the length of the walls, stalls along each side for the Scottish Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament, the Scottish Greens, and the other usual suspects. Seats were arrayed before the stage, about 200 of them, and 3 TV cameras roamed for shots. (Neil got in the firing line and ended up on Scottish news, but my UK TV debut is still pending.) A wide variety of people, a good age range, the over-40s seemed overrepresented until I realised there are more of them than there are 20-40s. It was good to see the grandmothers there, anyway.
Anyway. There was a lot of good material over the duration – opening speakers, then two one-hour discussion sessions, then a closing plenary with more speakers. It had my mind racing in all kinds of fascinating directions. The tone was very sensible, with a real lack of conspiracy theories and people decrying Bush as a flesh-eating lizard in human skin (search ‘david icke’ on google). What there was instead was a real sense of informed people who are representative of a growing movement, a movement that opposes the serious business of war being brought about without very compelling reason.
Many factoids were shared, some useful, some not. The one that stuck in my mind – according to the University Professor who spoke in one of my seminar sessions, whose name I have written down but upstairs, global supplies of oil will last, at present rate of consumption, another 30 years. In other words, according to this professor (who brought a formidable array of numbers which he said were sourced from the US energy department’s research body), things will change, and my generation will be alive to see it.
But the most potent thing about the weekend was more visceral. In New Zealand, there’s a baseline of apathy about any kind of public action, because, well, we’re New Zealand. Is George Bush gonna care? Helen Clark’s already dangerously liberal in the eyes of the US – what can we really achieve? Here in the UK, on the other hand, the audience for protest is none other than Tony Blair. And while Tony Blair changing tack probably won’t by itself stop the prosecution of war, it might combine with other political costs to stop things before they start. An effective protest (and I still wonder whether ‘effective protest’ is a contradiction in terms) here can really make a difference. And that’s an unfamiliar feeling. Pity they only managed a turnout of 263 from the enormous population. Still, the march on Feb 15 is the one to watch for. Count numbers then, I guess.
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Oddest moment – guy from PLO is up and talking, not making much sense. He refers to the death of Jesus. Interjection from the floor from man in turban: ‘Jesus is not dead. They killed someone else.’
Yes, I know the theories about Jesus’ brother Thomas who died in his place, Dead Sea Scrolls, etc etc etc. No, I don’t buy it. No, I don’t know why this chap thought it was worth interrupting a rambling PLO guy to share this with us.
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Glasgow itself got a good drive-through on the way back from the conference to Neil’s dad’s place. We
delivered the chair and slept again. Reports that we watched ‘Armageddon’ before sleeping can be neither confirmed nor denied, but if true, you must admit it’d be the perfect counterpoint to the day’s events.
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The countryside around Edinburgh and Glasgow looks very much like rural New Zealand, until you reach the towns, which are completely different. It was very calming.
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I’m finally moving on from the salisbury centre on Saturday, shifting to a nice house a bus-ride from the middle of town. Why and how? It’s long and complicated and not worth going into, but kudos to Blair for being the main connection. He is so cool only Michael Upton could express it adequately.
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Brad, Holly and I just saw 8 Mile. It is indeed very good. No, I didn’t expect it either. I am still unsure about Eminem, but the guy can hold a movie together.
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Going to Glasgow fired me up for bouncing around and I had to talk myself out of jumping on a plane back to London today. But I need to find a job. So I’m staying for a bit and filling out lots of application forms. Come to me job! Come now!
But I’m thinking of going back to London next week, if I’ve applied for enough stuff and won’t be interfering with interviews. Then I can finally see the Londoners I still haven’t adequately caught up with – you know who you are! And then maybe coming up through Cambridge to see Jack and Heather and Karen? And through Leicester to see Melissa? Hi guys! Email me! I’ll try and ring y’all!
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Shout-outs to my baby sister who’s 21 in a couple days.
And all those everywhere who are newly back at work.
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peace, love,
morgue