Alexander Vasudevan is a lecturer in “cultural and historical geography” with an interest in “radical politics” and “cartographies of protest.” He also, naturally, writes for the Guardian. Which may help explain his belief that proposals to criminalise squatting would create “jarring archipelagos of wealth and poverty” and, more importantly, remove “a potent symbol of protest.” Squatting, see, isn’t opportunist theft, it’s a form of political protest and therefore righteous by default:

The seizure and reclamation of space (temporary or otherwise) has become a key and potent symbol of protest here in the UK, from campus occupations to the playful interventions of groups such as UK Uncut.

Yes, we’ve seen those playful interventions and the people they tend to attract, many of whom wish to play with unsuspecting members of the public. And note the word reclamation, as if what’s being taken, often forcibly, somehow already belongs to the people who’ve decided to take it. Because… well, being terribly radical, they’re entitled, obviously.

As, for instance, when squatters invaded and occupied the home of Lisa Cockin’s mother, recently deceased, then used it as a venue for some rather lively parties. When the intruders were finally evicted, the Cockin family were left with repair costs and legal bills of several thousand pounds. Or when squatters stripped the home of Denise Joannides – even ripping up its floors – in what I’m sure could be construed as an act of radical protest.

What is at stake here is the further criminalisation of occupation-based tactics, which could severely limit the ability of vulnerable communities in particular to assert and stake their own geographical “right to the city.”

Protestors – at least those of a kind congenial to Mr Vasudevan – apparently have a right to storm and occupy a private business, a private home. How liberating it must be to have such moral certainty and a convenient disregard for boundaries and reciprocation. Note too the deployment of the Vulnerability Card, thereby implying that the nation’s squats are currently heaving with the frail, the elderly and the disabled. A strange insinuation, given that squatters are very likely to be young people like these, also gorged on “radical politics,” and whose only obvious disability is a failure to perceive their own absurd double standards.

Readers who wish to reclaim the belongings of Mr Vasudevan – say, his laptop or his phone – should head for the University of Nottingham.

Update, via the comments:

Busy today, but I thought I’d steer newcomers towards the updated greatest hits. And poking about in the archives isn’t entirely without its rewards. For instance, you’ll find pointers to a mirror made of wood, some presidential spanking, ruminations on performance art, and what may well be the world’s largest collection of navel fluff.

I know. It’s a feast for the senses.

Posting will be light over the next few days. To ease your suffering, you could always poke about in the archives or rummage through the greatest hits. Oh, and if you missed them first time round, there’s always the deadly disembodied cat’s head and the exploding banana mask. I know. You’re missing me already.

Zomblog has a new series documenting the quaintly leftwing trappings to be found in leafier parts of Berkeley, California. The first instalment highlights a mosaic made by students of Black Pine Circle School, one of the city’s more exclusive private elementary and middle schools. The mosaic, which runs along the front of the school on Seventh Street, is presumably intended to advertise the values being cultivated inside. It’s the handiwork of children aged 13 and 14.

See if you can spot the curious detail and its surprising prominence.

A closer look reveals an ominous prophesy, in red, bottom left.

Some guidelines for comments, for newcomers.

I ask only that people are reasonably civil – despite appearances, this is a classy joint. The “reasonably” bit allows plenty of leeway for barbs and pith, but needlessly vile personal remarks will be deleted. As a general rule, address the writing, not the writer, and bear in mind I have a low boredom threshold. Spitting, biting and heavy petting are ill advised, and if anyone is caught dealing drugs, the house takes 20%.