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Bedevilled, Anarchy and Self-Evaluation.


chairdriver

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Walking past the ICA on The Mall in London today, I randomly popped in to see what was going on, because a meagre crowd of people were gathered. Turns out the Korean Film Festival was being held there, and they were showing a film called Bedevilled. So I decided to watch, on the spur of the moment.

 

Probably the most important random decision I've ever taken in my life thus far. The sheer power of the film acted as a catalyst, taking thoughts and ideas that were buzzing about different sections of my head and thrust them all together in a violent chemical reaction propagating one massive web of new and newly uncovered thoughts, new analysis of my situations, new awareness, contradictions that were before covert. Sitting on the coach back to London, in amongst my rampant thoughts, I became aware of myself and thought “That is the best film I have ever seenâ€.

 

b6a6d_Bedevilled03-560x373.jpg

 

 

I couldn't have seen it at a more perfect time. It concluded what I will say are the most important 2 days of my life, in terms of personal development. The themes of the movie could not have been more appropriate.

 

Immediately before seeing it, I had gone to a “Men's Spaâ€. I was in need of sex. Got student reduction. I did my thing, was satisfied, and as I left, and returned to street level, I feel severe pangs of guilt. I am not yet Queer. I have not yet shaken off the shackles of Judeo-Christian sexual conservatism and frigidity. Mostly I was guilty at myself, for my continued need to divorce sex and love. I need a lover. I need a relationship. I can get sex, I need love.

 

On Wednesday, I joined the national march against tuition cuts. I stood in Millbank, right at the front, yelling till I was hoarse, clapping on those who stormed the building, egging on those who smashed windows. I wanted revolution. I was an anarchist. I was angry – I *am* angry. I will not allow privileged people sit and dictate who else is allowed to be privileged too; I will not sit by and let people who have inherited their wealth decide what happens to those who haven't; I will fight for my little sisters' opportunity to go to university. Because university has been the best thing to happen to me. I will not allow Oxford to be for the rich only. Education brings people out of oppression. If fighting does not work, I will get a loan to pay for my little sister's university education.

 

I will sell my body, I will sell my organs.

 

I'll do anything but Play The Game. Bedevilled warns us this; don't Play The Game. I will not get a finance job. I will not sacrifice my principles to earn lots of money. I will not become a cog in the machine.

 

 

But of course I will. Why would I not? Why would I turn down big money like that? Why would I avoid the easy route?

It's been hammered into me that to be different is bad. To be outspoken is worse. To confront, or to question, or to strive to change is wrong. I feel guilty every time I do anything political. I feel guilty when I am sexually subversive. I have been made to feel guilty whenever I say or do anything that challenges. After Millbank, I got lost in South London trying to find Waterloo. I knew where Waterloo was. I wanted to get lost, to take my mind off the throbbing guilt I felt. How could I have disregarded the axiom I always held to be true - “Violence is wrongâ€. How the fuck could I have stopped so low to have mobilised under the black flag of Anarchism, which my parents would say was waved by idiots that know nothing about politics?

 

Bedevilled gave me another glimpse of my ugly side. I was soundlessly screaming, with all seriousness and with all my heart, at the screen “KILL THAT PIECE OF SCUM THAT SHOULD NOT BE CONSIDERED A HUMAN BEING. KILL HIM. STAB HIM QUICKLY.†Perhaps violence is a necessary evil? When injustice is so prominent that there is no other option.

 

To a certain extent I do feel like I've been peer-pressured into radicalism. Everything's neatly parcelled up into greater good. I feel like I've not had ample time to reflect upon it all – it all happens in the heat of the moment. Stuff goes too fast. I was riding on a wave of anger, exhilaration and late-90s Tori Amos.

 

But I feel like I have a devil and an angel on my shoulders – the people that are pressuring me are also the most intelligent bunch of people I have met. Most notably my friend James (actually referring to him as a friend short-sells him; he is far more influential and important in my life than your average friend), who is intelligent to the point I genuinely believe he is super-human. He has the same effect on me as Dumbledore does in the Harry Potter books. He said to me “If you get arrested, phone meâ€, and suddenly the prospect of arrest didn't seem intimidating at all. He is so clued up on every form of philosophical and political theory (despite studying English) that I put every faith in his judgement, and the act of him identifying as an Anarchist is enough justification for my actions.

 

I feel ugly. Having ventured into an AIDS pit, and having fought the Police. I've spoken out as left-wing, enough so that people will chit-chat and say “John is a fucking cunt commieâ€. I feel so fucking ugly. I'm not strong enough to be permanently confrontational. I don't have enough make-up to make myself look pretty.

 

I just have to remember nothing eclipses the need for us at our foundation to be good human beings. There are so many instances where the film screams and begs and convinces us that we must be good human beings. Watch it. Use it as your bible. We have to hold on to reason, and empathy. Empathy is the big one. If we cannot empathise, we cannot be good human beings. Politics is about letting good human beings have the rights and privileges good human beings deserve. If we cannot empathise we cannot do politics.

 

I feel like I'm psychotic. I feel like I've just woken up, and my mind is working differently. I wish I could be apathetic, and be blissfully unaware. I wish I could just float on a shallow slow-moving river, in the countryside on an agreeable day. I wish I could live in my utopian Ring, where I only encounter people who absolutely agree with me, and confrontation doesn't exist.

 

I feel like I'm insane. But I've never felt more human.

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The winds of change come fierce, come slow. Tomorrow, the sun will light on someone you do not know.

 

Sounds like perhaps you are indeed 'waking up' a little. You're still fixated on image over substance, but you're getting there. Just be sure to figure your own thoughts out. Don't rely on others changing you too much else you'll go too far the other way and won't truly discover yourself. Life's always in flux, so don't think your epiphany will be the last.

 

The enemy of primal emotion is control, and I think the adrenaline surge you've had has made you recognise a little bit just how out of our control our own lives are. Do people who hold down menial jobs do so knowing that they're a cog? Do they choose to ignore? How do they do that? I can't do that. I've done it, but it pains me. The problem is that one can have too pretty an idea of the importance of life. On the one hand, we are intellectual, artistic, imaginative creatures of communication and brilliance. On the other... well, we need to eat, right?

 

Elswise; I've just woken up and you're talking about a lot of stuff at once, so a real response would be for me to go off on a tangent on something pseudo-relevant. All it'd be is granny-nattering, but with fancy words. Pints are needed for this kind of talk otherwise we'll quickly realise the finality of it all. Woe, woe, woe.

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Fight the power Chair. I want to see you on the news having done something chaotic.

Immediately before seeing it, I had gone to a “Men's Spaâ€. I was in need of sex. Got student reduction. I did my thing, was satisfied, and as I left, and returned to street level, I feel severe pangs of guilt.

You should feel guilty. I haven't seen any straight students get discount at a brothel.

On Wednesday, I joined the national march against tuition cuts, clapping on those who stormed the building, egging on those who smashed windows.

So basically "All talk no action". But you did say you fought the police, was that with stunning action or stunning words?

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The winds of change come fierce, come slow. Tomorrow, the sun will light on someone you do not know.

 

Sounds like perhaps you are indeed 'waking up' a little. You're still fixated on image over substance, but you're getting there. Just be sure to figure your own thoughts out. Don't rely on others changing you too much else you'll go too far the other way and won't truly discover yourself. Life's always in flux, so don't think your epiphany will be the last.

 

The enemy of primal emotion is control, and I think the adrenaline surge you've had has made you recognise a little bit just how out of our control our own lives are. Do people who hold down menial jobs do so knowing that they're a cog? Do they choose to ignore? How do they do that? I can't do that. I've done it, but it pains me. The problem is that one can have too pretty an idea of the importance of life. On the one hand, we are intellectual, artistic, imaginative creatures of communication and brilliance. On the other... well, we need to eat, right?

 

Elswise; I've just woken up and you're talking about a lot of stuff at once, so a real response would be for me to go off on a tangent on something pseudo-relevant. All it'd be is granny-nattering, but with fancy words. Pints are needed for this kind of talk otherwise we'll quickly realise the finality of it all. Woe, woe, woe.

 

I have so much to reply to this post, but my thoughts are all bitty and untwisting like something that I ate. I'll say stuff, in time.

 

 

Fight the power Chair. I want to see you on the news having done something chaotic.

 

[...]

 

So basically "All talk no action". But you did say you fought the police, was that with stunning action or stunning words?

 

Congratulations for focusing on the irrelevancies, and ignoring the point of my post. And clearly the section where I say "fought the Police" is conveying what other people would perceive it as. Why would I describe something I partook in as an "AIDS pit" in my own words?

 

You should feel guilty. I haven't seen any straight students get discount at a brothel.

 

Bitch, please. Brothels are built upon exploitation, and are illegal. Saunas are legal, frequented by consenting adults who are not coerced into sex. It's no worse than nightclubs, which we all know men go to exclusively to pull -- saunas just take it to the logical conclusion.

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Social normativity is so inscribed into us that, yeah, we can be "different," but never different enough to make a difference. Any divergence we can concieve is dictated by the foundation stone of the status quo. We are a well oiled unit, we are not the agents of our own soul, we are the objects of an alien discourse.

 

We, dude, are robots somehow invested with the fallacious idea of agency. So lets not think about it. Let's just pretend we have control, because that's the best we can do.

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And clearly the section where I say "fought the Police" is conveying what other people would perceive it as. Why would I describe something I partook in as an "AIDS pit" in my own words?

But why don't you? Even though you say you feel guilty you never seemed to be one who hides from expressing his opinion and sharing your experiences which I respect you for. Are you saying you're indulging (maybe even enjoying?) the practice of psychological self harm?

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Are you saying you're indulging (maybe even enjoying?) the practice of psychological self harm?

 

That's the impression he gave me. Although I wouldn't say the word 'harm' holds its normative meaning.

 

That's how I read it, anyway. Subversion is an addictive practice, after all.

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