Radical Farce
In the comments following this, on the proposed reality show Zoe Meets The Murgatroyds, Nikw211 replied,
Among the gems to savour are the endless factional disputes over exactly how capitalism should be toppled, feats of farcical mismanagement, an earnest exposition on “penile imperialism,” and interviews with former self-styled radicals, now sitting by private swimming pools, fretting about fridge ownership, or planning to work on llama farms.
For those with an interest in history, or indeed obliviousness, the three episodes are linked below.
The questionable pleasures of communal living. Specifically, a squatted street in Brixton. Contains scenes of waiting for utopia to materialise. And biohazard crockery. Oh, and the primal screaming commune at number 12.
In which, we’re told that lesbianism is an ideological duty, and that any woman can be a lesbian if she just tries hard enough, is mentored, and embraces the right kind of politics. A claim that has a somewhat self-serving quality, given the people making it.
The tale of a bewilderingly inept attempt in 1987 to launch a radical left wing tabloid, fuelled by the fever-dreams of Cambridge Marxists. The project was, unsurprisingly, a disaster, with its failure a direct result of ideological pretension. As illustrated by the scene in which, with the paper’s first edition about to go to press, most of the staff is out of the office on a deafness awareness day.
Consider this an open thread. Share ye links and bicker.
It all seems a much gentler, more earnest and idealistic Leftism, when compared to today’s brand.
As a window into the 70s and 80s, it’s quite effective. And I don’t think Ms Engle is entirely unsympathetic. I would guess that, as a documentary maker, her politics are some flavour of leftish. In her chosen career, it’s all but mandatory.
But that’s sort of what makes the series work. The interviewees are fairly unguarded, perhaps sensing a kindred spirit, and so they say more than perhaps they should. They’re allowed to air their thoughts, and that’s where the dark comedy is.
From part one:
At which point, we cut to Xander, an architecture graduate from Cambridge, formerly at Eton, attempting to convince us that he wasn’t rich, and that his rather comfortable background was somehow immaterial, while sitting next to his swimming pool.
The acknowledgment of class is one of the things that’s striking about the series, relative to the identity politics favoured today, which tends to be preoccupied with other attributes.
Oh, and then we meet another Oxford graduate, Mr Cooper, who was very excited to get a chance to wear a “worker’s uniform.”
At which point, comment seems unnecessary.
What a great find. Thank you.
Mr Cooper, by the way, is also seen singing, “The sin of property we do disdain,” while playing a violin that presumably no-one owns.
Did he identify as a worker?
[ Slides bowl of chilli-flavoured toenail clippings to EmC. ]
Indeed, it is evergreen farce. I recalled David blogging about this before, so I did an internet search which revealed that David first blogged about it in 2007., returned in 2008, and 2009, and again a couple more times. A virtually inexhaustible source of pathologies.
But we should be very cautious about towards whom we extend our sympathy. Consider, for example, Ursula K. LeGuin, who presented herself as a gentle loving soul who was searching for a gentler and kinder future. But when I read one of her essays (or interviews? it was a long time ago) I was struck by how strongly she desired a society in which the natural human ego and individualism was suppressed in favor of some sort of socialist ego-less society. On close reading it was very chilling. And I was not surprised to find that Maoists thought highly of her. Le Guin may have been, in her own life, a kind person but her aspirations were pernicious.
His gender is “communist git”, which gets a blood-red stripe on the constantly-updated Pride flag.
It stands up well. There are so many good bits. I remember a scene in the third episode, about the launch – and prompt collapse – of the radically socialist tabloid, in which Alan Hayling, a key architect of the disaster, insists, “Clearly, we weren’t trapped in a leftwing bubble.” As a failure of self-awareness, it’s quite something.
You could practically liveblog a viewing of it.
Mr Hayling, since you ask, was subsequently employed as a commissioning editor by Channel 4, and as head of documentaries by the BBC.
Or, in part one, on communal living, having to get group permission for any intended sexual relationship. Permission only being granted after all parties had shared their feelings, in detail and at length, with the entire collective.
*creep alarm*
The undertone of dysfunction and, at times, creepiness does become hard to miss.
Among the other purported joys of squatting – cooking rotas and all of the, er, surprises that entails; biohazard crockery; and sharing one tiny bathroom with fifteen other misfits. Sorry, “transient” people trying to “sort their lives out.”
Oh, and the group cervix examinations. Did I not mention those?
You’re tempted, I can tell.
Channel 4 is also home to the slimy little worm Cathy Newman who embarrassed herself so badly in an attempted attack interview with Jordan Peterson.
Funny how these “thoughtful and caring progressives” keep recreating features of Maoist China.
The naive individual might assume that the obsessions of leftists and the obsessions of “queer” activists would be quite separate and distinct, and yet the more one pays attention the more overlap one discovers. They’re all creeps.
Having rewatched the first episode, what struck me, other than the moments mentioned above, is the self-flattering waffle from interviewees about how “proud” they are of what they’d “achieved.” But so far as I can see, what they’d achieved is basically freeloading, delusion, self-indulgence, and a kind of arrested adolescence.
In fairness, some of them manage to laugh at their younger selves, at least momentarily. But some of them don’t.
Theft is an achievement?
I’m reminded of a documentary I saw about a communist newspaper. There were two particularly amusing interactions that reporters had, one internally in the paper, and the other with other communists.
The first was the discussion of the “black beat”. Being communists, they were fully immersed in Black consciousness, and agreed the paper should have a dedicated column for Black issues. This created a problem, however, as (a) the column would have to be written by a Black, obviously, and (b) the entire office staff was whiter than a South African whites-only beach.
So, they scoured the company, looking for a suitable Black candidate, only to discover that they had one single Black employee. He worked in the print department as a physical labourer, loading the delivery trucks.
Despite knowing absolutely nothing about writing, editing, or, as it turned out, speaking English. He was an African immigrant whose English was passable, but not really great. This, to the editors, was a feature, not a bug, as it meant their columnist was “valid”. When they approached him about his new role, he was confused. He knew nothing about politics, he didn’t speak English well, why on Earth were they offering him this position?
“Because you’re Black, obviously” was the answer.
Why was this important, he asked.
When they explained that they were fighting racism, he pointed out that they’d just decided to offer an unqualified person a job solely on the basis of skin colour, so that’s what his first column would be about, and could he get all their names?
The editors left the printing area, aghast that he didn’t know his place.
The second interaction was even more amusing. The reporters visited a farm owned by a lesbian Marxist. There were Che posters everywhere, “overthrow the patriarchy” stickers on the wall, etc.
They asked her what her dream of a Marxist farm would be like.
“We’d divide the labour equally, help the poor, and support each other here on my farm”, she said.
This drew a sharp rebuke from one of the other lesbians.
“What do you mean, your farm?”.
What followed was a quite spirited discussion. Just because this farm had been “occupied” by her parents when they were alive, and she’d grown up on it, and the patriarchal government had a slip of paper with her name on it, none of that meant that the woman actually, you know, owned it. The collective did, another lesbian said, which was greeted with much head nodding and and agreement.
Sadly, the documentary crew left before that discussion went into overtime, it looked like it was very popcorn worthy.
They see themselves as “earners“.
I am reminded of this classic “Be Honest” clip, as apparently the phrase “working class” seems to include being driven to school in a Rolls-Royce, as is common amongst the chimney sweep and day labourer classes.
https://youtu.be/3E4s0RqCBzU
See also episode three, above.
That would have been very entertaining to watch.
Band name.
Band name.
Second album by primal screaming commune*.
*Lower-case shows it’s about the music.
Funny how these “thoughtful and caring progressives” keep recreating features of Maoist China.
Well they can’t very well create images of “modern” China. After all, it’s a fascist state. Something which is never really talked about.
Channel 4 is also home to the slimy little worm Cathy Newman who embarrassed herself so badly in an attempted attack interview with Jordan Peterson.
Speaking of Jordan Peterson, they’re after him again. This time for using the word “retarded’ while referencing Kamala Harris.
0
biohazard crockery
I’m not sure I want to know. At first I thought gazunder, but the next part mentioned a shared bathroom, so…
The term came after cooking rota, so spoiled food storage? But I guess the simplest explanation is sharps container for the druggies who inevitably colonize such situations.
From an earlier discussion on the subject of squatting:
Ah, simpler times.
The acknowledgment of class is one of the things that’s striking about the series, relative to the identity politics favoured today
Yes, that’s Bezmenov 101. Economic class turns out to not be as immutable as the classical Marxists think in non-authoritarian societies. It’s a little hard to sell the oppressor/oppressed narrative when you can just stop being oppressed by being good at your job. They had to pivot to immutable characteristics like sex and skin colour. Much of the full-court press to define sexual orientation as something biologically hardwired comes from the desire to create that as a new class.
Consider, for example, Ursula K. LeGuin
Whether it’s LeGuin, Mieville. Correa or Heinlein, I long since came to the conclusion that people who live their entire lives making up fairy stories ought not be listened to about anything important.
Funny how these “thoughtful and caring progressives” keep recreating features of Maoist China
The timorous and neurotic will turn to authoritarian control as a way to assuage their own fears.
Also this, from the same:
Seems apposite.
LeGuin and Mieville: I understand, as they were fiction writers from day one.
Heinlein: I can agree, at least with regards to his opinions about sex. (With the caveat it wasn’t his entire life: 5 years in the Navy, hospitalization, and then 5 years trying out stuff until he took up writing.)
Correa: Which Correa? Francisco Laguna Correa? Hugo Correa? Larry Correia? Larry was an accountant and gun store co-owner before he took up writing fiction.
Don’t forget Heinlein, along with other science fiction writers, worked on projects for the government during WWII.
Listening to them isn’t the same thing as taking what they say as gospel.
[ Slaps forehead ]
Likely explanations:
Back in the day, I visited 4 communes in the US.
1) A small group (15) in a farmhouse, none working, living off an insurance settlement. Poor sanitation so all got sick while I was there.
2) A big commune on an old resort property supported by a rock band. You were supposed to work but it was pretty loose. Lots of freeloaders.
3) A geodesic dome commune in Colorado that was a way-station for drug dealers and supported thereby.
4) “The Farm”, a bunch of San Fran hippies moved to TN and started a vegetarian pot-smoking farm. Partially supported by a rock band. They actually farmed. Most of them worked. You had to build your own house. Little radical politics. They had a guru.
And that’s always a good sign.
[ Logs onto Amazon, orders kaftan, amulet. ]
Ooh.
Which,
And it’s only £5.99.
Bargain.
The guru requires you to wear diapers made from hand-woven curated hemp fiber…made by his followers…sold for $129 each…a bargain for those seeking true enlightenment.
If you order them, I’m arranging an intervention.
Anyone who clicks that link will find their Amazon suggestions poisoned forever.
Can’t talk. I’m raising my vibrations.
If two of you will hold David, I’ll wrestle him into the straitjacket.
[ silence ]
We owe it to David to do something.
[ Logs onto Amazon, orders kaftan, amulet. ]
Kaftan or muumuu?