Dan Kieran

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  But what do I know? Perhaps this is pure fantasy. Perhaps I’m wrong, all the research I’ve done is nonsense and all the people I’ve met are just lunatics on the fringes of society. Perhaps the reason their voices are not being recorded is because they don’t know what they are talking about. The energy crisis doesn’t exist and everything will actually be fine as long as we all keep our heads down and keep doing what we’re told. Maybe there’s nothing to fear if we’re happy to play along and be spoon-fed, and we don’t do anything that might rock the great economic boat. Well, all I can say is, why don’t you look into these subjects yourself and make up your own mind?

  This journey has simply been my attempt to make sense of the country I see around me with my own eyes rather than the one the adverts, the politicians and the media keep telling us all is out there. The conclusions I’ve drawn are childlike in their simplicity, but that doesn’t make them any less true. We do not live in a very sensible way. It isn’t sustainable, it causes wars, it means we don’t get to see our children grow up, and it doesn’t even seem to make us very happy. The reason we all seem to live in this way, regardless of those depressing facts, is because our sense of fear is wildly out of proportion to the threats we actually face, and this false fear takes our attention away from the things we really should be afraid of. Like the fact that anyone who actively questions this way of life is portrayed as a workshy lunatic, or a violent criminal, and faces arrest merely for having the temerity to complain, when in reality these people are doing the most to uphold what this country is supposed to stand for. We are now facing a crisis in the near future that will undermine the very edifice we all seem to be so miserable living on, and are seemingly so powerless to change, and that, to my mind, is the kind of opportunity you can only dream of.

  In the year since I started writing this book I lost count of the number of times I got off the train at Charing Cross station, skirted around the bottom of Trafalgar Square and made my way down Whitehall to Parliament Square. As that year drew to a close the scaffolding that had surrounded Nelson’s Column for much of that time came down, leaving a brighter, cleaner statue for the tourists to admire. Nelson is someone we could certainly all learn from today. During the celebrations marking the two hundredth anniversary of the battle of Trafalgar, I read that Nelson didn’t beat the French because he had better men, better ships or better guns; he prevailed because the French were too afraid of losing to do what was necessary to win. Nelson had no such qualms. He knew what had to be done to achieve victory and he had the courage to do it with conviction. Two centuries later the people of Britain are still proud of the actions he took with his men.

  We are faced with a similar dilemma in the way we live today. What is the stronger sense within us? Is it our fear of the failure that may result from change or our conviction to do what is necessary to win? After meeting a few of the people taking a stand all over Britain, the patriot inside me tells me this nation has the courage to do what is required, but I have little faith in the willingness of those who lead us to share that conviction if business interests see the necessary change as a threat to their power and influence.

  So it will come down to the people of this country changing things for themselves, and the question then becomes, do we have the stomach for the fight? Especially in a time when civil liberties have been eroded to an unprecedented level. Whether or not you feel that is a fight for you will depend on whether the country I found is the one you see with your eyes. Critics may argue that I’m accusing others of preaching fear to push an agenda, only to do the same thing myself. The difference, I would argue, is that my argument and my evidence rely on how life in Britain seems to be to everyone who lives here. Don’t take my word for it, trust your own judgment. How do things seem to be going for you? Are you in control of your time? Are you happy with the amount of time you get to spend with your kids? Even if you’re financially well off, are you confident your children will be? Do you value freedom of speech? Are you in more debt than you can afford? Do you roll your eyes every time a politician is interviewed on TV? Do your energy bills keep rising? Do you think Britain’s once high standards seem to have slipped? Is your local hospital/school/ swimming pool/environment/town centre/university/ playground under threat because of some government or private initiative that doesn’t make any sense to your local community? Does someone getting arrested for reading out dead soldiers’ names at the Cenotaph alarm you? Do you want a government that is prepared to go to war on an illegal basis to know every detail about your life through a microchip in a plastic card? Does your job make you feel so sick and bored that you drink yourself into a coma sometimes just to escape? Is four weeks off out of fifty-two a good enough return for the short amount of time you have to savour being alive? Do you think we are steering the right course for the people of Britain’s future? Do you think the interests of our communities and the economy are the same thing?

  You could always start by coming down to Downing Street or Parliament Square next Sunday for afternoon tea to let our leaders know what really matters to you. You won’t be the only one asking these kinds of questions if you do. And don’t worry about getting arrested. My middle-class force field seems to be working overtime; I can’t seem to get nicked however hard I try. So just stick close to me. I’ll be the idiot dressed in white who’s trying to organize a game of cricket.

  Epilogue

  It’s impossible for me to write about Britain and not mention two of our greatest writers: George Orwell, who wrote about Britain in Why I Write in 1946, and Gavin Hills, who wrote about Britain forty-nine years later in The Face. I’m convinced that Gavin would have proved himself to be Orwell’s heir, if only he hadn’t run out of time.

  In 1946, Orwell wrote:

  We are a nation of flower-lovers, but also a nation of stamp collectors, pigeon-fanciers, amateur carpenters, coupon snippers, darts-players, crossword puzzle fans. All the culture that is most truly native centres round things which even when they are communal are not official - the pub, the football match, the back garden, the fireside and the ‘nice cup of tea’. The liberty of the individual is still believed in, almost as in the nineteenth century. But this has nothing to do with economic liberty, the right to exploit others for profit. It is the liberty to have a home of your own, to do what you like in your spare time, to choose your own amusements instead of having them chosen for you from above ...

  Nearly half a century later, Gavin’s sentiments remained much the same:

  It’s the simple things we want, the same things people have wanted for years: social and economic justice; not having to worry if you’re sick, old or down on your luck; a roof over your head; a good education for all; peace; a right to diversity, fun and freedom. We want this for ourselves, for our country and for our world. Simple desires yet hideously complex to achieve. We can start by trying to claim our country, and find the power that enables us to find the answers to make changes for the better. The alternative is increasing alienation and descent into a disparate land of paranoid people. When we don’t give a toss about our fellow countrymen, we don’t give a toss when hospitals get closed, when gangs rob cabbies, when Nazis bash Pakis, or when the rights of thousands are dismissed as expendable. The simple realization that most of us will never make enough money to do anything other than skin up and buy trainers should be enough to force us to dream of a golden future. One day, this nation will be ours. Let’s think what we want, then see what we get. We are not alone, we are many.

  We are Robin Hood, Twiglets, Linford Christie, King Arthur, KLF, William Blake, Echobelly, Marmite, Oasis, George Orwell, Ira-Bru, Johnny Rotten, Boudicca and Vimto. We are joy-riders, hooligans, dealers and drunks. We are those who struggle to get a life and those who enjoy themselves despite. We’ve glimpsed Jerusalem, squinting through half-closed eyes, scrambling messily on a Sunday morn. We must wake from our fantasies, revive our visions and stake a claim on the future. Then ours shall be a golden nation. A la
nd of real hope and glory. Well, it would be a laugh anyway.52

  Sadly for us, George Orwell and Gavin Hills are no longer with us, and however relevant their ideas and opinions may seem today the government is right about one thing: the world and the country we are now living in has changed.

  Whether Britain, or Albion for that matter, is a place for the protest exclusion zone outlined in the Serious and Organised Crime and Police Act; a place for ID cards; a place where an eighty-two-year-old can be arrested for saying ‘Rubbish’ at a party conference; a place where casinos get built on flood plains; a place where every town looks the same; a place where an eleven-year-old girl can have her bike searched because of a ‘terrorist threat’; or a place where you can be arrested for reading out the names of soldiers who have died in a war — this is now up to those of us living in Britain today.

  Which leaves two simple questions. Does Britain mean anything today? And if it does, what are you prepared to do to protect it?

  As far as my journey is concerned, I think the people closest to me think I lost the plot slightly. As it happens, I think I lost the plot too, but as plots go it wasn’t a difficult one to lose. I discovered a much better plot than the old one, anyway. I’d rather be part of a plot where people actually do what they believe in than talk in loud voices and in the columns of newspapers to make themselves feel clever. I’d rather be part of a plot where King Arthur actually exists, fighting in his own way, laughing at himself and bravely standing up against the tyranny he sees threatening his land, this land of Albion. I’d rather be part of a plot where a sense of the wonder of being alive drives you to savour every second of your life rather than one where overwork and over-consumption force us to sell so much of our time, the only thing of true value we all have. I’d rather be part of a plot that’s based on the truth of human thought and love rather than business ethics and fear.

  I certainly found snatches of Albion among the brave and passionate people fighting to ensure there is some corner of this country that remains forever England, and I’ve certainly seen a glimpse of it in our future. It’s time we all considered losing the plot, this plot in which we are all trapped but which none of us chose, if this country is ever to mean something of value again.

  Appendix

  The Seven Steps to the Idle Life

  (taken from Idler 35: The War on Work Issue, Spring 2005)

  As a dedicated man of the sloth I am always promoting the merits of an Idler life to anyone who will listen. But whether it’s in the pub, on late-night radio phone-ins or on dodgy cable TV shows, the response is always the same: ‘Well, it’s all right for you to be an Idler, but the rest of us can’t afford it. Some of us have to work for a living.’ This argument will resonate with some, but it’s important to point out that the Idler magazine isn’t a network of smug, independently wealthy parasites. There’s nothing unusual about any of us, but we all do have one thing in common: at some time or other, we’ve all taken a leap into the unknown to pursue a different kind of life. So if you can’t face spending another day doing a pointless job you hate; if you loathe the fact that you only get four weeks a year actually to ‘live’ and spend the other forty-eight staring at a clock wishing your life away; if you want a different, more idle life and you don’t know how to get one, or don’t think you can afford one, here’s a seven-step guide.

  Step One - Give Up Ever Wanting to be Rich In the words of that apostle of the amateur creed, poet/painter/musician Billy Childish, ‘If they’ve got what you want then they’ve got you.’ So if you can stop wanting what they’ve got then you’ve cracked the hardest part of becoming an Idler and a life of freedom is yours for the taking. Not wanting to be rich is the single most immediate and liberating act you will ever make in your life. Of course, some Idlers become rich accidentally as a result of following their natural instincts, but being rich is never their goal, just a stone that gets into their shoe somewhere along the journey.

  Step Two - Rid Yourself of Debt Mortgage, literally translated, means ‘death grip’ — such is the patronizing and bloated nature of the lender/borrower relationship. But western society is built on foundations of overwork and over-consumption so a life without debt is becoming increasingly difficult to attain. The mortgage is probably the only kind of debt we can no longer live without and still remain self-sufficient, but all other kinds of debt are completely avoidable.

  The cycle of debt is what traps most people in a job and a life they hate. The harder they work the more miserable and stressed they become.

  So they go to the shops at the weekend and buy themselves something nice because they’ve had a tough week. Even if they don’t have enough money they can still buy whatever they want with a criminally usurious credit or store card. But when their statement appears they get that gnawing feeling of dread in the middle of their stomachs as they realize the mountain their debt has become. So they work even harder. They take all the overtime they can get to pay for everything they’ve bought to make them feel less stressed, which makes them more miserable. They work so hard, in fact, that the rest of the time they’re totally exhausted. They’re either arguing with the person they love, becoming strangers to their children or drowning their sorrows in the pub. And by this point, because they’re in so much debt, they couldn’t live a different life even if they wanted to. Those spiralling monthly payments have trapped them in a crap job and they have a house that’s full of crap they don’t need.

  Ridding yourself of debt will give you the opportunity to live a different kind of life, but it can take time, years even, to clear. Bear in mind, though, that even if it takes you ten years it’s a much more sensible thing to pursue than a. career.

  Step Three - Don’t Buy Useless Crap You Don’t Need

  Everyone buys useless crap they don’t need and won’t use to compensate for the misery of their forty-eight-week-a-year job that destroys their soul and dignity. Take responsibility for your own happiness and stop trying to fill the hole in your life with grot. This doesn’t entail wearing rags, growing a beard and patronizing anyone who wears Nike trainers. Just bear in mind that the more you buy, the more you’ll have to work to pay for it. Remember, the rule is, no credit. If you can’t afford it, you can’t have it.

  Step Four - Ditch Your Pension

  The pension is one of society’s safety nets that doesn’t actually make anyone feel safe. ‘Work hard, be miserable now and save just enough money so you can stay alive in penury when you’re old and grey,’ say those who advocate pensions. Er, no thanks. But this is the fate that awaits those of us who’ve helped make the UK the fourth largest economy in the world. Pensions aren’t safe. Invest your money in yourself and your own happiness now instead of in a pension plan that will probably vanish some time in the future.

  Pensions are also the justification for corporate greed. Chief executives bleat about ‘the needs of shareholders’ to warrant their savage pursuit of a rising share value. Nothing is allowed to get in the way of increasing a company’s share price, even at the cost of decimating any sense of community in our towns and villages across the country. Gross, unnecessary warehouse-style shopping malls are built, village banks arc closed and arms are sold to dictators. So if you want to do your bit for the planet, remove any money you have in the stock exchange. This simple act will improve your life and, indirectly, the lives of other Idlers all over the world.

  Step Five - Work Part-time

  Once you’ve given up wanting to be rich, you’ve got yourself out of debt and you’ve stopped buying useless crap you don’t need, you’ll need much less money to live on than before. So now you can quit your full-time job and get a part-time one instead.

  Part-time jobs are becoming more and more popular with businesses because they remove a company’s legal obligation to give you the benefits associated with fulltime work - sick pay and so on. But that’s OK because the happier you are the healthier you are, and the less you work the happier you will become, so you
won’t need these so-called benefits.

  At this point, as you while away the hours reading and sunbathing in the park, you may find yourself feeling guilty that you don’t have a full-time job. This is hardly surprising. Since primary school you have been brainwashed into thinking that hard work is virtuous. Well, it bloody well isn’t. As the late Jeffrey Bernard once said, ‘If there was anything virtuous about hard work the Duke of Westminster would dig his own fucking garden, wouldn’t he?’ Ignore the guilt, enjoy your new spare time and have a lie-in. If you start feeling that you’re no longer a productive member of society then log on to the Idler chat board at www.idler.co.uk/forum and we’ll all talk you out of your panic attack.

  If going part-time is a daunting prospect then work four days a week to start with and gradually wean yourself off your addiction to work. A three day-a-week job is popular with many Idlers now; four days off, three days on is a far more civilized way of living than the criminal two days off, five days on that our greedy western world depends on.

  Step Six - Do That Thing You’ve Always Dreamt of Doing

  Once you’ve worked through the guilt of no longer being ‘a productive member of society’ (i.e. you’ve stopped working and consuming more than you need in order to be happy), you’ll find time on your hands to pursue the things you’ve always wanted to do. Far from being an unrealistic goal, this is precisely where your future security lies.

  The Idler’s ultimate goal is to earn a living doing something so enjoyable that it can scarcely be called work at all. And when the way you earn a living is something you love doing, the idea of retirement becomes ludicrous, so you won’t need a pension either. It will take time, but eventually you will work out how to earn money doing whatever it is you want to do with your life. Later, you will earn enough to cut down the hours of your part-time job until eventually you’ll be able to quit the world of the crap job completely.

 

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