Thoughts on Britain’s EU Referendum

"Brexit" - the potential British exit from the European Union. I'm not an economist or a political analyst, just a normal bloke trying to make sense of it all in the run-up to probably one of the most important decisions of my life. I’m quickly knocking out this (admittedly, not very eloquent piece) in an attempt to contribute to the debate and to make a difference. But if the country does elect to leave the EU, I’m also committing my thoughts to paper so that I will be able to look my son in the eyes in 20 years’ time when, surveying the state of the world, he asks “What did you do to try and stop Brexit?” At least I’ll have something to show him.

It's clear that Britain is still massively misinformed on the EU and we are now sitting on the event horizon of a permanent Brexit through tabloid-led ignorance. All great civilizations have played a part in their own destruction and, sadly, I think we are seeing it starting to play out in our lifetime in the UK and USA. And this is not "Project Fear" fear scaremongering, just pragmatism. If Donald Trump gets the US top job and the UK proletariat elects to self-flagellate by imploding the EU, we're basically doomed. Fact. It'll be the end of the (generally) safe, secure and prosperous world as we know it.

Here are some further thoughts on the subject, and why I will choose to remain in the European Union on June 23, 2016.




A New Dark Age

For the past decade or so I've been considering the possibility that the planet is entering a new Dark Age. The Age of Reason is in danger of gradually shifting into reverse, while the culture of “whatever” – listen to Trump repeatedly declaring "I don't care" – is on the rise. Society is clearly obsessed with fame, celebrity and trivia while serious achievements take second place. Where in my generation youngsters aspired to be scientists or astronauts, these days the answer to the question “what would you like to be when you grow up?” is now simply: “famous”. Allied to this, social mobility is on the decline, the rich are getting richer and urbanisation has produced a class of social losers. A recent survey revealed that soon the one percent richest people’s wealth would be higher than what the rest of mankind possessed!

Freedom of thought (essential in the pursuit of reason) has been castrated and generations of children are now poisoned by excessive political correctness. How frequently do you hear people saying “I’m not supposed to think that, am I?”, or “Of course, you're not allowed to say that are you?” Growing theist dogmatism has exacerbated this situation and resulted in religious polarisation and the rise of extremism, militantism, fanaticism and terrorism. Thanks to the likes of Osama Bin Laden and George W. Bush, Islam is rising and the Christians are mobilising. However, it's not Iron Age dogma but reason that will lead us to truth, and the pursuit of truth has been the driving force behind progress since the Enlightenment. We cannot afford to abandon these principles now and need to expose theist (and other) dogma for what it is at every opportunity. A modern, tolerant and secular society does not have to be a valueless society. Values are codified by religions, not invented by them (The Telegraph).

Much of the West appears to have become addicted to a vacuous, virtual world - separated from other humans, but "linked" to a communications device. People enrolled in this far-from-natural world become insensitive, even callous, when confronted with fellow human beings’ suffering. Those who have grown up in the digital age have desensitised to the point that they do not seem to be phased by violence, cruelty, and terrorism and appear to be unable to judge these acts from a human perspective. A generation has detached from reality. As disturbing is the growing denial of science that I've observed over the past decade or so and the increasing prevalence of counter-culture, superstition, conspiracy beliefs, alternative medicine and magical thinking, as opposed to reasoning, rationality, logic, and scientifically demonstrated reality. It is the latter that distinguishes Dark Age thinking from modern thinking (Huffington Post). One can only begin to imagine the rapid slide into a new Dark Age should the vacuous billionaire celebrity, Donald Trump, become President of a country that glorifies guns and blames almost everything from climate change to train wrecks on gay marriage. And that country happens to have a military machine larger than the rest of the world combined, and is custodian of the planet's mightiest stockpile of nuclear weapons. The future does not seem bright.

Bottom line. I feel that we're falling into the abyss of a new Dark Age where nationalism, populism, and xenophobia rules the world order in a sinister combination of fanaticism, ignorance, and anti-science. We're at the tipping point for "Western Civilisation". The Barbarians filled the void after the fall of Rome. I have no doubt that history will repeat itself should we see a Trump-Brexit perfect storm tossed into this volatile mix.
These thoughts on the bigger picture should provide some context to my opinions on Brexit.





Nationalism & Isolationism

I grew up in a totalitarian, theist pseudo-democracy blighted by nationalism and that had isolationism at its core. The nationalist government of my youth was right wing, conservative and racist. Like the Brexit camp, their mantra was one of separate development. That country was South Africa and their policies became known as “apartheid”. I escaped that country and regime as soon as I was able and remade my life in Europe. We're having this EU referendum in Britain today purely in response to the rise of nationalism in the UK, and the threat of Nigel Farage’s UK Independence Party. A vote to “leave” will empower UKIP and the thought of that scenario leaves me with an uncomfortable sense of déjà vu. I've lived through that before, and it was not good.

The contention that Britain needs to "embrace full sovereignty or be subjugated by a bunch of European bureaucrats" is thinking rooted in the 19th century. In the 21st century, the world is connected, everything is interdependent, strength lies in unity, alliances and power blocks, and decisions are made together, with and through alliance partners. It is ironic that the once largest colonial power in the world is even considering the puffed-chest nationalist isolationism that our distant ancestors last witnessed. More recently North Korea and Russia have tried to make that work, so why would Britain want to move that direction, empowering the likes of Nigel Farage? The old 19th century idea of sovereignty is long gone, and we no longer live in splendid isolation, lording it over our conquered colonies, sending dispatches by sailing ship and forked sticks. Everything we do as individuals and nations today is tied in to a more complex bigger picture, and thrives on a network of instant data and global communications. Adapt to it or lose out. If Britain decides to try and go it alone, the latter is the likely outcome.

Why Britain would want to run away from the largest trading block in the world is beyond me. In its past it successfully took on (inter alia) the Spanish armada, Napoleon, India, the Zulus, the Boers and the Nazis, but it can't stand on its own two feet in a European alliance? Come on! Brexit would be wimping out - Perfidious Albion making its escape. Great Britain is no longer the mighty colonial power that it was in the Victoria era. Two ruinous World Wars, sparked by nationalism, sunk the empire and brought the nation to its knees, crippling her financially and wiping out generations of talent. But with determination, tenacity, ship loads of immigrants and partnership alliances, the little island has maintained its status in the world and worked to bring European countries together, to bind them together so indissolubly that they could never go to war again. And now we're considering leaving the union that created the peaceful and privileged life we currently live? I'm flabbergasted. We cannot forget the past and need to learn the lessons of the 20th century.





Unity & Consistency

By nature, I subscribe to behavioural “Theory Y” - I believe that people are inherently good and that the whole is greater than the sum of the parts. As far as I'm concerned, in the 21st century European countries are stronger together and our prosperity in Britain is linked directly to that. I believe that what we're witnessing (primarily in England) is simply the rise of xenophobic nationalism, reminiscent of central Europe in the 1920's and 30's. Interesting to note that the majority of former South Africans I've spoken with in the UK support the “leave” campaign. Not surprising that many of these individuals left SA after Nelson Mandela’s release, to escape the country's first, democratically elected (and predominantly black) government.

Most of the men in this group are proud of their service in the apartheid-era South African Defence Force, fighting for their country and flag and wearing the old SA coat of arms with pride. Ironic that the motto on that old coat of arms was “Unity is Strength / Eendrag maak Mag.” So am I right in saying that they’ve now changed their minds then and that unity is actually a weakness? Maybe the expat South African pale-male has conveniently changed its spots, dancing instead to Farage’s nationalistic tune. Old xenophobic habits die hard, I guess, and the defunct idea of "separate development" still runs deep.

I left South Africa in the apartheid years to get away from self-serving, narrow-minded xenophobes, and it's disturbing to see people like those kindling their old prejudices in an open and accommodating country like Britain. Furthermore, with their South African backgrounds, these same individuals are themselves part of Farage's “bloody foreigner” problem in the UK. They’ve come here and taken British jobs, put their kids into British schools and exploited the National Health Service...and now they’re supporting a Brexit vote that would deny other, mostly needier, refugees the same opportunity they had. That's just self-centred and wrong. But unfortunately nationalist's tend to gravitate to a behavioural paradigm opposite to my own, namely "Theory Y" - people are inherently bad - at the expense of all else. Especially if they are “different” people.

One final thought here. Imagine a world with President Trump and the subsequent crumbling of the unifying "special relationship" between the USA and the UK. Then imagine Britain consciously deciding to leave the EU, undermining the Union and watching it all come undone as the economic shock wave ripples around the world. What are people thinking? The fall of the Western World will make the fall of Rome look like a picnic!





Skin in the Game

Members of my South African family took up arms and fought for Queen Victoria, King George V, King George VI and the people of the United Kingdom. My extended family has spilt a lot of blood for Europe, and our genes fill war graves across the continent. Given the ultimate sacrifices they made, how could I not be part of a unified Europe? The fallen include, inter alia:

• Private William Albert Pautz (1897-1918) – St. Omer, France
• Elisabeth Pautz (1913-1944) – Berlin, Germany
• Gefreiter Ernst Pautz (1910-1942) – Pulawy, Poland
• Obergefreiter Ernst Pautz (1911-1943) – Petrowskogo/Woroschilowgrad - Ukraine
• Soldat Ernst Pautz (1915-1945) – unknown location, Eastern Europe
• Flieger Ernst August Karl Pautz (1920-1941) – Siauliai, Lithuania
• Obergefreiter Erwin Pautz (1920-1943) - Snamenka b. Nikopol, Ukraine
• Franz Pautz (1882-1920) – Berlin, Germany
• Gefreiter Friedrich Pautz (1908-1942) – Poselok, Russia
• Unteroffizier Helmut Pautz (1914-1940) – Berlin, Germany
• Schütze Herbert Pautz (1922-1943) – Kiev, Ukraine
• Jäger Herbert Pautz (1923-1942) – St. Petersburg, Russia
• Gefreiter Hermann Pautz (1926-1946) – Kowel, Ukraine
• Feldwebel Hugo Pautz (1914-1942) – Zemena, Russia
• Reservist Johann Pautz (xxxx-1915) – Bouillonville, France
• Gefreiter Karl Pautz (xxxx-1918) – Bouligny, France
• Gefreiter Karl Pautz (1909-1942) – Wenzy, Russia
• Stabsgefreiter Karl Pautz (1914-1944) – Scwarpen, Russia
• Schütze Kurt Fritz Franz Pautz (1923-1942) - Poltawa, Ukraine
• Gefreiter Kurt Hermann Georg Pautz (1919-1943) – Saporoskje, Ukraine
• Otto Pautz (1902-1943) – Stalingrad, Russia
• Gefreiter Otto Robert Ernst Pautz (1907-1943) – Ljubotin, Ukraine
• Schütze Reinhold Pautz (1904-1946) – Korosten, Ukraine
• Unteroffizier Richard Pautz (xxxx-1917) - St.Laurent-Blangy, France
• Sofia Pautz (xxxx-xxxx) – Cologne, Germany
• Gefreiter Wilhelm Pautz (xxxx-1917) – Lafrimbolle, France
• Wilhelm Pautz (1874-1945) – Struer, Denmark
• Obergefreiter Wilhelm Pautz (1914-1940) – Bourdon, France
• Stabsgefreiter Willi Pautz (1915-1945) – Gdynia, Poland
• Obergefreiter Willi Pautz (1923-1943) – Orlowka, Russia

With the exception of the first person on this list (my great-uncle, William Albert Pautz, who was mortally wounded at Messines Ridge while fighting for the South African Scottish regiment in 1918) I have no idea how any of these individuals are linked to me. But we share an uncommon surname, and our family trees are therefore likely to merge in Pomerania at some distant time. There are many more names that I need to add to this incomplete list of war dead. But even this short list of 30 individuals I take very personally. Europe must never tear itself (and the world) apart again. Britain needs to stay in the European Union to help ensure that.





Boris Johnson, Nigel Farage and Who to Trust

I quite liked Boris Johnson before the start of the referendum campaign. Sadly he's revealed himself as a hypocrite on a quest for power, who's clearly just working his own political agenda. This is what he said in his book just two years ago: "It was his (Churchill’s) idea to bring those countries together, to bind them together so indissolubly that they could never go to war again - and who can deny, today, that this idea has been a spectacular success? Together with Nato the European Community, now Union, has helped to deliver a period of peace and prosperity for its people as long as any since the days of the Antonine emperors.” And now he's u-turned a full 180 degrees. He's a self-centred opportunist who's torn the Conservative Party apart.

As he has repeatedly expressed support for remaining part of the union and rejecting Brexit, Boris Johnson is clearly putting personal ambition before the national interest. By all accounts, initially he did not want to be the Brexit frontman and was quoted as saying: “The trouble is, I am not an ‘outer’.” Only four year ago he said: “If we get to this campaign, I would be well up for trying to make the positive case for some of the good things that have come from the single market” and in February this year in his column in the Daily Telegraph he was making the case for the EU. Tory MP Nicholas Soames (the grandson of Winston Churchill) has said: "Whatever my great friend Boris decides to do I know that he is NOT an outer." But he is the stereotypical Perfidious Albion personified.

Nigel Farage is an old school xenophobe who has built a party based on fear or dislike of other cultures and beliefs. It's because of him and the rise of nationalism and the UK Independence Party that David Cameron felt compelled to call a referendum on Britain's EU membership in the first place. He's not the sharpest arrow in the quiver. Farage recently said that if we leave the EU we'll have a smaller pharmaceutical industry and that'll be good for alternative medicine! Oh good grief - so the homeopathic industry, and associated new Dark Age quackery, are going to pull us out of the economic pit that Brexit will put us in. Phew - thank goodness for that!! He should just crawl back into his hole...or slink off to the apartheid laager in Orania where he’d feel quite at home.





In the real world, “actuality” carries more weight than “potentiality”. So even though one may dislike all politicians and distrust everything that comes out of their mouths, I think it would be prudent to give more credibility to the Prime Minister’s (and all living former Prime Ministers’) views as they are the people who’ve actually sat at the top table, thrashing out issues with other heads of state. To a man, they are backing the “remain” campaign…as is the leader of the opposition. It’s easy for those in the “leave” camp to make claims about the EU and its intentions but, quite honestly, it’s just as easy to dismiss their contentions and promises as they’ve not been at the front line, fighting for Britain. They are just hot air, dreams and political opportunism. I prefer to put my trust in the first-hand experience of David Cameron, Gordon Brown, Tony Blair and John Major all of whom actually know what they’re talking about. But “out” conspiracy theorists will no doubt "not care" and disagree. Such is life at the dawn of the new Dark Age.
Sadly, a vote to leave the EU on June 23 will be a vote to empower Farage and UKIP. If this happens, one scenario pans out something like this:

• Britain votes to leave Europe.
• David Cameron's position will be untenable and he will be ousted as Prime Minister.
• Boris Johnson will step in to fill the vacuum till the next election.
• Nigel Farage and his protest party have been banging the Brexit drum for over a decade and that's been their only agenda. If the UK votes to leave the EU, many of these voters will come back to the Tory right, personified by Boris Johnson.
• As a consequence, the Conservative Party will be further split as many members will not wish to be associated with xenophobes and racists.
• This, allied with the fact the Johnson's government will not be able to deliver on most of the promises they made during the referendum campaign, will see the Tories ousted in the 2020 elections. The economy is also likely to be in free-fall at that time, and the Conservative Party is likely to face a crushing defeat.
• Labour will be voted in, and Prime Minister Corbyn will be leading the country by the end of May 2020.

That's terrifying. Imagine Corbin trying to deal with Putin, President Trump and negotiating trade deals around the world. No. Please. No! Vote "remain!"





The Economy

The Brexit camp are beginning to sound like a broken record, constantly banging on about sovereignty, in the context of putting up walls and keeping Johnny Foreigner out. But there's so much more at stake in this referendum, including Britain's status in the world and the prosperity and security it gains through being many multinational companies' gateway to the EU. If Britain pulls out of Europe, many of these countries will surely pull out of Britain and relocate to the Continent. And if we withdraw from the single market, it's going to take many years to negotiate and put new trading agreements in place. Britain is a trading country so, from a business perspective, the prospect of a Brexit is too dreadful to contemplate. If only its supporters weren't so short-sighted and xenophobic to see that! Essentially Brexit would be the economic equivalent of quitting your job because you think you can get it back minus all the parts you don't like. In other words, it's a fantasy.

There was recently an interesting comment in The Guardian regarding how long it would take the UK to negotiate trade deals afresh in the aftermath of a leave vote: “It is very difficult to predict. Russia’s accession to the WTO took 20 years. Other negotiations happened faster. It will be a very high risk bet to hope that negotiations would be quickly completed and that negotiations would be uneventful.”
Likewise, there was a worrying headline in The Telegraph - just the prospect of Brexit saw £65 bn flight from the U.K. in just two months. According to Sky News on the same evening, £1.3m was leaving the country per minute! This is on a par with the money departing the economic system at the height of the financial crisis in 2009.

Sadly, Brexiteers seem to subscribe to the aforementioned culture of “whatever” and simply put their heads in the sand while poo-pooing impact assessments by the most eminent individuals, organisation, heads of state, the current and former Prime Ministers. They paint all of this as part of a "Project Fear" conspiracy while peddling their own "Project Lies." Just a couple of months ago, Brexit front man, Boris Johnson, supported remaining in the EU, and with his slide to Farage's right, he's clearly putting his Prime Ministerial ambitions before the national interest.





Brexit - the (Sarcastic) Upside

In conclusion, and with tongue firmly in cheek, let’s try to distil some of the positives outcomes if Britain leaves the EU:

• Firstly, we'll be able to control our own borders. The French, for example, are currently doing us a favour by allowing UK Customs & Immigration to operate on their side of the Channel as opposed to ours. Once we leave the EU, France will no longer have to be Mr. Nice Guy. It will be great when they close down the Sangatte refugee camp and move border controls from Calais to Dover. It's going to be fantastic to manage the refugees ourselves - it'll create jobs, will be good for Dover's economy and nightlife, and at least we won't have too many dinghies and dead bodies washing up on Kent’s pristine, white beaches.
• As we'll no longer be part of the club, Spain will no longer have to treat Gibraltar with kid gloves. Once we're out, they can lay siege to The Rock before reclaiming it. That will save Britain Billions of Pounds per annum that we can then pump into the NHS...and hopefully get rid of all the bloody foreigners working there.
• While we're at it, fuck it, give the Malvinas to Argentina. The billions that'll save the country per annum, can be used to fill the holes in our decimated post-Brexit economy, and to buy all that razor wire we'll need to keep Dover fenced off.
• Oh - and leaving the EU will trigger another referendum in Scotland, and this time they will vote to leave the United Kingdom. At last Little Britain becomes a reality! And with all the money saved, we can rebuild Hadrian's Wall and cover some of the additional import duties we'll be paying on all goods coming to our little island from the Continent.
• As our only land border with the EU, we can build a big mother-fucking Trump wall between the North and the Republic of Ireland. Sovereignty, baby! Keep the back door locked. One of Rome’s great last acts of folly before it imploded was to erect Hadrian’s Wall between the province of Britannia and the barbarians of Scotland. It was Hadrian's wish to keep "intact the empire", which had been imposed on him via "divine instruction". Sounds eerily like Trump and the bible-bashing GOP, doesn’t it?
• At last the UK will be able to revert to the metric system! Being out of the EU means we no longer have to stick two fingers up to the bloody Europeans by hanging on to ancient Roman imperial units. Won't it be great to be able to talk about a car's 0-100 performance and Kilowatts as opposed to horsepower? Whoever understood that 0-60 nonsense anyway! And I have no idea how tall I am in yards, feet and inches or how many stones I weigh. It's going to be great to move Britain up into the 19th Century.

Viva-Brexit-Viva!
Not...



Vote “remain” on June 23
Let’s stay firmly “In” the European Union.

Cheers, MAlfaRK ©

The Beaten Generation

Viva Umkhonto!

During the course of 2015 I recommissioned my 21st birthday present from my father – a Micro Seiki MB-14ST that I brought over to the UK from my mom’s place in South Africa. I’ve also been slowly bringing over my collection of vinyl albums, meticulously selected and acquired, and lovingly cared for between the early-70’s and the late-80’s. They’ve also been stashed away at my mom’s place, protected from the elements in plastic sleeves and stored in bespoke cases holding about 50 albums apiece. Over the course of the past few months I’ve been playing some of the gems in my collection, and it’s been very rewarding to reconnect with my past. Both the good and the “interesting”.

On one of our trips to Europe in the late-80’s my future wife and I made our regular pilgrimage to the music stores, including WOM (World of Music) in Germany. It was here (in which city, I don’t recall) that I bought the LP "Viva Umkhonto!" a compilation of punk and hardcore music that featured previously unreleased material by European and US bands. The record was released in April 1987 as a collaborative effort by two independent labels, namely Mordam Records (USA) and De Konkurrent (Holland), both of whom were strong backers of the struggle against Apartheid. According to a statement on the back of the sleeve, “All money raised by this record goes to Umkhonto We Sizwe”. So this was a benefit album for the military wing of the ANC (African National Congress).

For context, allow me to turn to Wikipedia:

“Umkhonto We Sizwe (abbreviated as MK, Zulu for "Spear of the Nation") was the armed wing of the African National Congress (ANC), co-founded by Nelson Mandela in the wake of the Sharpeville massacre. Its founding represented the conviction in the face of the massacre that the ANC could no longer limit itself to nonviolent protest; its mission was to fight against the South African government. After warning the South African government in June 1961 of its intent to resist further acts of terror if the government did not take steps toward constitutional reform and increase political rights, MK launched its first attacks against government installations on 16 December 1961. It was subsequently classified as a terrorist organisation by the South African government and the United States, and banned”.

The album itself was definitely banned in South Africa and so possessing it was illegal. I took it into the country through Jan Smuts Airport (subsequently known as “Johannesburg International” and now, “O.R. Tambo International”) on my return from my trip to Europe and kept it safely tucked away in the belly of the beast in South Africa's capital city, Pretoria.

In June 1986, on the tenth anniversary of the Soweto uprising, the Nationalist regime declared State of Emergency. It forbade any action that could undermine the Apartheid state, nationwide. Also forbidden were any kind of “subversive statements”, defined as statements that promoted unlawful strikes, boycotts or civil disobedience, attacked military conscription, promoted disinvestment or sanctions, or that “aggravated feelings of racial hostility”. The penalty for engaging in these actions was a maximum of ten years imprisonment. Ouch - I definitely did not want to be caught with this album!

Of the people detained under these draconian regulations (circa-8,000 in the first couple of months) no names were published with the exception of those released at the discretion of the South African Police. Throughout the State of Emergency, newspapers had to engage in self-censorship, at the risk of being closed down by the government, and many used to print disclaimers alongside their articles that read” “This report has been restricted to comply with the Emergency Regulations”.

Some newspapers and magazines were not able to appear, and no news came out of the black townships, except through the state’s Bureau of Information. At the time I stuck stickers on the front of my television screen and computer monitor that read “SABC News is Biased” just to remind myself to be vigilant about government disinformation.

The music on the compilation album is okay, but it’s the packaging and presentation that I really enjoyed as a snapshot of the times, and as an interesting piece of social history. Along with the record were included a poster and a booklet filled with newspaper clippings and ANC propaganda about the armed struggle against Apartheid.

It also highlights companies that were breaking economic sanctions by continuing to do business with South Africa. The “Throw Well – Throw Shell” slogan is parody of oil the giant’s official marketing tag-line at the time, namely “Go Well – Go Shell”. I have uploaded a scan of this booklet to my DropBox.

I’m not going to comment on the accuracy or veracity of the information in the booklet, but in those turbulent times – under a state of emergency, with broad media censorship and where owning certain music could earn you a jail sentence – it was thrilling to see what people abroad were thinking and to read material that was not towing the official National Party line.

With the benefit of hindsight, it’s fascinating to see how right Matt Johnson was back in 1989 (The The – “Mind Bomb”). Although he wasn’t talking about South Africa, per se, when he sang that we were the “beaten generation, reared on a diet of prejudice and misinformation”, he pretty much hit the nail on the head. Prejudice and misinformation were weapons in the arsenal on both sides of the struggle in South Africa. I was one of the few pale South Africans to have the privilege of being exposed to both sides of that deformed coin.

When you cast your eyes upon the skylines
Of this once proud nation
Can you sense the fear and the hatred
Growing in the hearts of its population
And our youth, oh youth, are being seduced
By the greedy hands of politics and half truths

The beaten generation, the beaten generation
Reared on a diet of prejudice and mis-information
The beaten generation, the beaten generation
Open your eyes, open your imagination

We're being sedated by the gasoline fumes
And hypnotized by the satellites
Into believing what is good and what is right
You may be worshiping the temples of mammon
Or lost in the prisons of religion
But can you still walk back to happiness
When you've nowhere left to run?

The beaten generation, the beaten generation
Reared on a diet of prejudice and mis-information
The beaten generation, the beaten generation
Open your eyes, open your imagination

And if they send in the special police
To deliver us from liberty and keep us from peace
Then won't the words sit ill upon their tongues
When they tell us justice is being done
And that freedom lives in the barrels of a warm gun

The beaten generation, the beaten generation
Reared on a diet of prejudice and mis-information
The beaten generation, the beaten generation
Open your eyes, open your imagination

If you'd like to take a listen to "Viva Umkhonto!" I've found a ripped copy of the LP available for download here.

Cheers, MAlfaRK ©

My Death

1974. I'd spent summer in Europe with my parents. My first trip out of Africa. I already owned David Bowie's "Pin Ups" and a SA-only double album release called "Superstar" when I saw the posters for "Diamond Dogs" all over London. It had just been released a month earlier. When we got back to Pretoria I bought the record. My first concept album and one that had me glued to my father's new B&O hi-fi for more hours than I went to school, with Beyer Dynamic headphones keeping me coddled, safe in my own little, private world. Another world, light-years from Apartheid South Africa. "Makes you feel important and free."

I poured over the gatefold sleeve, soaked up every word, every note, every Orwellian innuendo, wallowing in the Moog, Mellotron, guitars and saxophones. Rebel Rebel in my own bedtime. Like many of his other works, "Diamond Dogs" became indelibly burned into my subconscious, and was also the album that marked the deepening of my voice and the transition to clumsy, shy, introverted adolescence. The journey to manhood would not be a smooth one. But I was in good hands. Bowie struck a chord with the freaks, the outsiders and the alienated. In 1974 he symbolized impossible glamour and an aspiration for the future. He made socially uncomfortable people like me feel cool. Bowie became mine. "Halloween Jack is a real cool cat."

Listening to "Diamond Dogs" this evening with adult ears I'm reminded what a dark piece of work it really is. It certainly isn’t an entry point for Bowie, but an album you love only after you’ve already begun an affair with his music. My music.

So (and at the risk of sounding trite) I lost a piece of myself today. But, hell, I travelled with David Bowie for over four decades and had the privilege of seeing him in concert on four occasions. Over the years his lyrics have become my vocabulary and his songs, milestones in my life. So although the great man may have shuffled off his mortal coil, he will live on in me, forever. He's a part of me. He is me. And I'm grateful.

In mourning, MAlfaRK ©

News Guy Wept & Told Us...

06h30 this morning. I was awake. Strange, as I'd only got to bed four hours earlier.

But it was then that the musical soundtrack of the first 55 years of my life came to an end. David Bowie died in New York after an 18 month fight with cancer. A redwood falls. I bought my first Bowie album in 1973 and my last one three days ago. A lifetime, but I never thought of Bowie as being old. He remained current up to the moment of his death.

Although his lasting legacy is to embrace innovation and be yourself, I must admit to copying his hairstyle back in 1972, just to piss off my parents. I still wear a version of that cut today. For four decades I've had a strange little ritual, that involves Bowie. Whenever I buy any new music technology - cassette player, turntable, Walkman, CD player, MP3 player - the fist track that I play is by Bowie. I will continue this personal homage for the rest of my life.

Thank you David Bowie for helping me though all the toughest times of my life, for celebrating all the good times and for always being there for the times in between. You'll never know it, but one dark night you actually saved my life. The world is going to be a more mundane place without you and has lost its creative rudder.

Everything is disjointed. Equilibrium is gone.

Goodbye David, and our youth.

In mourning, MAlfaRK ©

Nationalist Notes

Earlier today I found these two bank notes from the old country snuggled in the back of a dusty book. These were in general circulation between 1978 and 1990, and so would have seen me through the end of high school, my two years national service, my three degrees and my initial move to the UK. Fascinating times.

The note is supposed to depict Johan Anthoniszoon "Jan" van Riebeeck, but some National Party bureaucrat screwed up and the portrait on the old bank notes is of Bartholomeus Vermuyden, as painted by Dirck Craey (1650) and currently hanging in the Rijksmuseum. The actual van Riebeeck was far less glamorous as this portrait of him in the Rijksmuseum reveals. Researcher Jonkheer F.G.L.O van Kretschmar has also determined that the popular portrait of van Riebeeck's wife, Maria, was more likely that of Catharina Kettingh, wife of Bartholomeus Vermuyden. The real Maria van Riebeeck (nee de la Queillerie) was as frumpish as her husband - this is the portrait of her in the Rijksmuseum. Worse still, by all accounts the statue in Adderley Street, Cape Town, is not a likeness of Maria either, but of the "wife of the chairman of the Dutch committee that helped to organise the 1952 Van Riebeeck festival in Cape Town." (Giliomee and Mbenga, 2007, "New History of South Africa"). Incredible - you couldn't believe a goddamn thing under the old apartheid regime.

Interesting read here.

Additional images:

• Jan van Riebeeck
• Maria de la Queillerie
• Bartholomeus Vermuyden
• Catharina Kettingh

Cheers, MAlfaRK ©

Collective Drinks

* Originally published on Wednesday, June 14, 2000 *

Etienne said "I can sense another collective document coming on" and he was right! The following collective nouns were contributed by Massyn, Reeler, Posthumus and Pautz...and possibly some other drunken bums!

A gaggle of G&T's
A swarm of Screwdrivers
A herd of Rum & Cokes
A club of scotch & sodas
'n Kakhuis vol Klipdrift
A hurling of Heineken
A barfing of Becherovkas
An amnesia of Absinths
A blerts of Black Labels
A clutch of cocktails
A murder of Bloody Marys
A heartburn of Castles
A vomit of Vodkas
A tizzy of Tequilas
A shipwreck of Brandy on the rocks
A drowning of Dop-n-dam
A dronk of Old Browns
A suip of Sherry
A walg of Witblits
A verve of Vermouths
A jigger of Jack Daniels
A spit of Spiders
A bloody klap of Blue Caracou
A burp of Beers
A foray of XXXX's
A headache of Wallbangers
A froth of Fosters
A chunder of Chianti
A puke of Pimms
A hangover of Harvey Wallbangers
An armful of Amarula's
A trommel vol Tassies
A mumble of Merlots
A chunder of Chardonnays
A catatonia of Clarets
A suip of Sauvignons
A choke of Champagne
A crass of Caine
A yee-haa of Jägermeisters
A spew of Ciders
A piss-up of Piscos
An "IpromisenottotalksomuchREALLY" of Red Bulls
An upchuck of Ouzos

Cheers, MAlfaRK ©

Die Sand Paradoks

By Gerhard Elmar Schröder
Originally posted on Sunday, June 9, 2002

Die droë besembos jaag die miskruier oor die sand.
Hy stop...hy huiwer...hy sit stil…en slaan aan die brand!

Die wolke steek op! Dis dan 'n woestyn!
Die reëndruppels plof neer op die sand...word 'n rivier, word modder, word 'n fontein.

Die water was my binneste. Die water maak my koud.
Die weerlig helder my nag op, maar maak my benoud.

Die sand is mooi. Die sand is warm.
Die akkedis geniet dit, maar die sand bly arm.

Jou oë is swart. Jou trane is nat.
Jou trane word 'n stroom...ek wil dit vir my vat.

Jy streel die kind se hare. Die kind lag en speel met die sand.
Die kind vat die modder en bou iets...aan sy mooi kant.

Die saadjies in die sand skiet grasgroen blare.
Opgewondenheid en jubeling bruis deur die groen are.

Jy is 'n skim in hierdie woestyn. My kind sien jou, vat aan jou skouer, Jy is weg.
My droom...jy en die woestyn word nou my kneg…

Die son is terug en brand hard neer.
Die blare krul om. Die kind se voete brand...seer.

Cheers, MAlfaRK on behalf of Gerhard Elmar Schröder ©

Mescaleros

* Originally published on Saturday, January 19, 2002 *

July 1979 – July 1981. Two years of hell in the South African Infantry, thanks to PW Botha. National Service they called it....hmmm....I spent my time trying to undermine the system, spending about a year in the Namibian "operational area". My diaries from that era are not easy reading, but provide an insight into how I coped. If you think that at that time I was reading books like the "Lord of the Rings" trilogy, "Contact", "Space", "Wuthering Heights" and "The 1001 Nights of Jean Macaque", it's obvious how desperately I was trying to escape.

What I do know is that music was a big part of my coping mechanism. It helped me to escape the reality of where I was and what was going on around me. In those days before the Walkman, I had to beg and borrow portable tape recorders from my more affluent fellow-conscripts, and slink off into dark corners to listen to stuff on my own. No one appreciated my taste in music. After all, I was just a "Fokken Kommunis" and a "Kafferboetie" who listened to "Kaffermusiek".

Some of those memorable artists and groups were Frank Zappa, David Bowie, Marley and Tosh, The Selecter, The Specials, The Jam, Elvis Costello, Joe Jackson, Madness, Blondie, The Sex Pistols, Ian Dury & The Blockheads, The Pretenders and two new bands called Echo & the Bunnymen and U2. One of them that really stood out there was The Clash. Waaaahh! I was absolutely absorbed in their mélange of reggae, rockabilly punk, funk, and even disco. During my last stint on the "Grens" I became one with what I believe was their masterpiece – "Sandiniasta!".

I now own 4 copies of "Sandiniasta!" – two on CD and two on vinyl (one of the latter never opened as I wanted to preserve it in pristine condition). For 36 tracks on 3 LP’s the band tackled everything in sight, including waltz, gospel, disco, children's ditties, pop, funk, reggae, dub, punk, delicate instrumentals, psychedelic explorations and rock. It blew me away and the lyrics...!! The lyrics!!! The lyrics!!!!

Is the music of grove skin rock
Soaked in the diesel of war boys war?
Blood, black gold and the face of a judge
Is the music calling for a river of blood?

Beat the drums tonight, Alphonso
Spread the news all over the grove
The big meeting has decided
That total war must burn on the grove

Does it mean I should take my machete
To chop my way through the path of life?
Does it mean I should run with the dog pack
Is that the way to be the one to survive?

(extract from "Corner Soul", Sandinista)

The "Sandiniasta!" track "The Call Up" (played in a funeral dirge) really struck a chord up at Mpacha in the Caprivi Strip towards the end of my two years:

Hup two, three, four...

It's up to you not to heed the call-up
'N' you must not act the way you were brought up
Who knows the reasons why you have grown up?
Who knows the plans or why they were drawn up?

It's up to you not to heed the call-up
I don't wanna die!
It's up to you not to heed the call-up
I don't wanna kill!

For he who will die
Is he who will kill

Maybe I wanna see the wheatfields
Over Kiev and down to the sea

All the young people down the ages
They gladly march off to die
Proud city fathers used to watch them
Tears in their eyes

There is a rose that I want to live for
Although, god knows, I may not have met her
There is a dance an' I should be with her
There is a town - unlike any other

It's up to you not to hear the call-up
'N' you must not act the way you were brought up
Who gives you work and why should you do it?
At fifty-five minutes past eleven
There is a rose...

Hup two, three, four...I love the marine corps..

Joe Strummer was a wordsmith of the highest calibre, and I can still repeat just about every word of every song.

The reign of the super powers must be over
So many armies can't free the earth
Soon the rock will roll over
Africa is choking on their Coca Cola

It's a one a way street in a one horse town
One way people starting to brag around
You can laugh, put them down
These one way people gonna blow us down

(extract from "Charlie Don't Surf", "Sandiniasta!")

For the last six months of my army days, and throug much of the seven years of my university career that followed, I carried a photocopy of the lyrics around with me. Sad but true! Actually, a few months ago back in South Africa I found my university work folder...and the lyrics were still there! It was a sad day for me when The Clash threw in the towel in the late 80’s.

Living in London in 1989-90, I was lucky enough to make it to a Joe Strummer concert with my mates Eduard and Mark Murray. Yeee-haa!!! He played a brace of old Clash songs and it was great to see the guru in action..."Earthquake Weather" was a good but undersold album. For me, Strummer then disappeared into obscurity for ten years...until 2000 when I caught him on Jools Holland’s TV show with his new group, The Mescaleros. The live set was OK, but didn’t really impress me at the time.

Fast-forward. Earlier this week I was killing time in the FNAC record store on the Champs Elysee in Paris. It was after midnight and I was aimlessly browsing...and then I heard it! The unmistakable voice, intonation and lyrics...yup...Joe Strummer was being piped through the store’s system, and it was new stuff that I did not know. It took me a while but I eventually found the CD: Joe Strummer & the Mescaleros: "Global A Go-Go". Last night I played it for the first time...and then played it at least five times more, pouring over the full lyric sheet (a-la The Clash). Wow!! What brilliant stuff! The eclectic mix of musical styles is outstanding and the lyrics are as masterful as ever, reflecting the same concerns that have always inspired Strummer’s music. I got to bed close on 04h00 this morning...with a broad smile on my face.

Advice: get online, spend the US$ 13.99, get the album, settle down with a bottle of whisky and the lyric sheet...and enjoy!! One of the best albums I have listened to in years. Really.

Cheers, MAlfaRK © Saturday, January 19, 2002

P.S. No, I am not earning a commission from Hellcat Records!! ;-)

P.P.S. If you would like to read all of their lyrics, take a look at the excellent "The Clash Song Lyrics by Albums" page.

P.P.P.S. Tragically, Joe Strummer died of a heart attack on December 22, 2002, eleven months after this was written. I hope he got to read it...

Waar Is?

By Gerhard Elmar Schröder
Originally posted on Sunday, June 9, 2002

Ek staan hier hoog op 'n krans en staar uit oor...wat 'n oseaan behoort te wees. My voete staan op...wat 'n sagte groen mos moet wees. My gesig en hare is klam van...wat sagte druppels uit die wind moet wees.

Ek staan...

Liewe Heer waar was jy? Ek het wel gesien daar is bloed aan jou sy. Is ek, was ek of gaan ek? Ek kyk hier in die groot spieël wat die agterkant van my oog vir my hou. Ek sien lag, ek sien ek maak 'n verskil, ek sien...wat de fok sien ek? Ek doen dan dit wat U gesê het ek moet doen…gee.

Shakespear gooi roekeloos sy advies oor liefde: "Jy kan net dit gee wat jy het." Mooi William! Wat as jy so lank als gegee het en skielik is jy leeg! Wat maak jy as dit wat jy gee aan haar waaroor jou lewe gaan, boring is of as 'n depressie in koerantpapier toegedraai word of as manlike wellus verag word of sommer in sinus snot as laf beskryf word. Waar hy, wat vir haar die koning was, sy kleed moet gebruik om die vals saad van skaam eensaamheid van sy grot se vloer af moet afvee? Besef jy dat dit 'n leeg is wat iemand wat gemaklik is met alleen wees oor die vreemde terrein van eensaamheid terg?

Jy klop...en die lag binne hou net aan lag, niemand maak oop nie. Jy skraap die moed van die verworpe koning bymekaar...gryp die trompet wat jou donkertyd uitbassuin...niemand vra iets uit oor die fucked-up deuntjie nie.

Die trompet se liedjie het vae woorde...iets wat dit beskryf wat opgebottel het: Jy tas uit na dit wat heilig is, daardie simbole wat dit wat jy jou lewenstas mee gevul het, wat die NG man beskryf het as 'n eenheid...dit is "walglik" is die snyende opinie, jou hand word 1000 maal weggeklap. Die waslap van verwerping moet hierdie rituele walging wegvee. Die Bybel sê "draai die ander wang"...beteken dit dat dit op almal van toepassing is, selfs vir daai kus wat die eenheid moet verseël?

Die intelektueel verhewenes vee 'n kwas van opvoeding...vrouens ervaar seks meer emosioneel as mans. Ek verdoem hierdie vals profete met die groen brommers en wurms wat dit verdien. Ek is nie 'n vrou nie en dit is nie seks nie. Dit is die seël van die NG man se "eenheid". Hoe kan dit vir 'n uitgerekte agt jaar vassteek en eenvoudig op die yskas geplak word as nog 'n huistakie wat verrig moet word? Is die kinders se oppasser dan belangriker as die fluweel van verkoeling en genesing wat 'n naweek weg kan bring? Is die vroeg huistoe kom, geskenke, boodkappe, oorvluisters, skimpe, drukkies en luister dan alles verkeerd en kritiek?

Was U kruis ook oortrek met antibiotiese splinters en epileptiese drogbeelde? Het U ook nagte wakker gelê omdat dit wat U probeer sê het mense woedend laat wegstorm het?

Ek is stil. Waar de fok gaan ek nou? Waar het ek dan opgefok? Hoe moet ek dan gee, of mis ek die boodskap. Moses het sy boodskap teen die rotse stukkend geslaan. Waar's die rotse? Wat de fok is die boodskap? Wat moet ek stukkend slaan?

Cheers, MAlfaRK on behalf of Gerhard Elmar Schröder ©

Grumpy Old Man on the Music of the 70s

I'm a grumpy old man in my mid-50's and, like many of my friends, have a soft spot for the music of the 70's - my teenage years. We tend to romanticise the era and its music, waxing lyrical on the proto-metal groups (Black Sabbath, Deep Purple and Uriah Heep), the mould-breaking glam rockers (David Bowie, Marc Bolan & T-Rex, Kiss), some of the pompous Prog Rock acts (Focus, Pavlov's Dog, Rick Wakeman, Led Zeppelin), the punk ground-breakers who blew it all away at the end of the decade, in under 2 minutes 59 (The Sex Pistols, The Clash, The Ramones, Ian Dury & the Blockheads) and the electronica that came of age in parallel to it all (Kraftwerk, Gary Numan, et. al).

Nice. All good and well. But - fucking hell - it wasn't all good music in the 70's. And being isolated in a pariah state at the arse end of Africa, under draconian international sanctions and with censored, state-controlled radio made it even worse. At the time, I hated the effing-70's. We had no TV, very little international exposure and on the radio, we didn't hear any of the bands I've mentioned above. The politically-approved dross (disguised as music) that we were fed, was abysmal and the only way that I heard about the music scene in the rest of the world was via the large antenna I constructed on the roof of my parent's home to pick up the feint "LM Radio" signal from Mozambique, and the UK music magazines that I encouraged my mother to buy for me, in lieu of a slice of my pocket money.

It was through these publications that I got a peek into what was happening beyond the borders of apartheid, and where I first read about metal, Bowie, Bolan, Slade, Kiss, punk, Marley, Tosh and reggae (although I had no idea how to pronounce the latter as I'd never heard anyone actually speaking the word)!

So just how bad was mainstream music in the 70's? I trip to my local charity shop a couple of weekends ago quickly reminded me of the crap that your average man in the street was listening to back then. For 99 pence I bought an original 1975 pressing of "16 Chart Hits - Volume 19"...purely because I saw that it included Kraftwerk's seminal track "Autobahn".

So I got the album home and, while cleaning it up, noticed that the disk did not match the sleeve - instead I'd got "Volume 17" with only one vaguely redeeming track, namely BTO's "Rolling on Down the Highway". But surely there must have been at least a few more listenable tracks on the disk?

Dear friends - if you want to remind yourself just how bad Joe Public's music was in the 1970's, dig up one of these old albums. The music was formulaic, insipid, honey‐lipped, mealy‐mouthed crap! Sickening...and it flashed me back to those brown corduroy bell-bottoms that I hated so much! Urrgh - get out of there. Come to think of it, in an era where manufactured boy/girl groups dominate the airwaves, we've probably gone full circle. Utterly depressing, and I look forward to the next Sex Pistols / Nirvana to step up and kick the music industry in the bollocks :-)

Cheers, MAlfaRK ©