... erections. Sorry, I meant elections.
Elections. Is that clear? Let’s talk about elections. With a big, massive,
capital “L”. E-lec-tions.
Although, come to think of it, given the
amount of testosterone displayed in the last couple of weeks in the local and
European elections here in the UK, we might as well leave that “r” hanging in
there, a tumescent poisoning of the political landscape.
Our politicians might still carry the
look of late 90s, early noughtiesmetrosexual man (I challenge you, reader, to tell Nick Clegg and David
Cameron apart, the two of them standing together on a dark corner around
midnight. C’mon, c’mon, you know you’ll fail). They might still try to present
a clean-shaven, soft, almost effete face to us proles, but scratch the surface
and it’s still the same rampant machismo underneath.
Let’s talk about the recent local and
Euro(pria)pean elections. Especially, let’s talk about women’s absence from
the political scene. The sole female voice heard above the din of brawny, male
vocal power was that of Natalie Bennett’s, leader of the Green Party. She was
given a ten-minute slot on Radio Four, of which half that time was taken up by
the interviewer rudely interrupting Natalie to ask her a question she was
already in the process of answering before being so rudely interrupted. Then,
Farage was given twice as long. I bet he was probably holding a pint in his
right hand and a ciggie in his left as he made sure that each soundbite came
out the way his supporters wanted it. The dirty old sod! But that’s why his army of
Ukipers love him (doesn’t the word “Ukiper” feel like “Belieber”, the term used
to describe Justin Bieber’s contingent of screaming, deranged, cult-following devotees?). He is Nigel the Lad, one of the boys. Proper English bitter in hand.
Priapus: the face of British politics
Let’s talk about the vacuum in British
politics of female power. Not girl power, no. I was never a fan of the Spice
Girls and it always seemed to me a tad bit suspicious that girl power had to
come wrapped up in a mini-skirt with the Union flag stamped all the way around
it.No, I’d rather talk about the
absence of women from politics and the need to have them as part of our
discussion on policies and laws. Especially with so many women bearing the
brunt of the coalition’s cut-throat measures. With a general election a year
away I am fed up of the shouting, screaming and hysterics our political debates
are peppered with. And that’s just the (male) presenters on the Today
programme. What we need is the calmer, reassuring tone that women bring to
politics. You don’t even have to agree with their politics. I am not a
supporter of the Green Party myself, although many of their policies are
appealing enough for me to consider them as my second option. But what will
certainly drive me round the bend from now until May 2015 will be to see yet
again three (or four now, with the rise of Ukip) men trying to out-muscle each
other verbally whilst the essence of their message, i.e., their policies, gets
lost amidst a sea of semantic fisticuffs.
Mind you, this is mainly applicable to
English and Welsh politics. In Scotland the Member of the Scottish Parliament
and Deputy Leader of the Scottish National Party, Nicola Sturgeon is packing up
a mighty punch with the upcoming vote on Scottish independence. Her radio
interviews and television appearances have so far shown a calm, articulate and
determined politician. Again, I am not a fan of her or the SNP (in fact, I
don’t even know whether I would vote for them if I lived in Scotland), but she
brings balance to a rather phallus-centric world.
Let’s talk about politics and let’s talk
about the lack of balance between male and female power in this area. It is the
only way we can ensure that we don’t mistake “elections” for “erections” ever
again.
You can’t fault him for putting his agenda on the table from the word go when he took temporary charge of the political magazine The New Statesman. According to Brand, imagining the overthrow of the current political system is the only way I can be enthused about politics.
My problem, if I can call it problem, is that I am also enthused about politics. Whilst I agree with Brand’s core message that the status quo needs shaking and parts of it need dismantling, I disagree with his methods.
Politics has definitely taken a blow in recent years in the UK. I have (sadly) witnessed its downfall. From the euphoria that surrounded New Labour in 1997 when it came to power (I had just arrived in London) to the hundreds of thousands who marched against the illegal invasion of Iraq, I have had an almost front-row seat in all these events. At this point, British humour compels me to ask myself the question: and you’re still here? How come you haven’t taken the first flight back to Cuba?
Because it’s not that simple. Because politics – and politicians – are not that straightforward. If they were, we would have reached Utopia many centuries ago. We tend to see the political process as a system created by politicians and acted on by politicians. Democracy follows from that notion and therefore, when politicians fail, politics fail and, inevitably, democracy fails.
I believe that democracy is a system you create on a daily basis. This “you” is “us”, really, those of us who, through our attitude, alertness, morals, respect to each other and collective responsibility, take the bull by the horns, so to speak. We should never export these ingredients to politicians hoping they will make the soup for us. From that point of view, I agree with Russell Brand’s call to a “revolution of consciousness”. To me, however, this social movement would include the ballot as well.
I have lost count of how many times I have heard or read people saying that they can’t be bothered to vote because “all politicians are the same”. First of all, not all politicians are the same, just like not all police officers are the same, not all doctors are the same and not all athletes are the same. Some sportspeople even cheat, did you know that? Imagine if I were to say, based on the Armstrong case, that all cyclists are cheats. Why, then, do we change the language when talking about the people who are supposed to represent us?
Because they are an easy target. More importantly, they divert attention from the collective responsibility I mentioned before and our failure to act it out. This is not to excuse wrong behaviour. Members of parliament, prime ministers, deputy prime ministers, presidents and vice-presidents, must be held accountable for the decisions they make. However, they do not operate in isolation and they should never be allowed to do so. They are part of society and so are we.
That is one of the reasons why I still vote. Unlike Russell, I have not got the privilege of being apathetic. I know that the box I tick, the candidate I choose and the party I support might let me down, but I am willing to accept that as a side effect, if by my actions I can still keep our imperfect, deeply flawed and hypocrisy-ridden democracy alive.
The best case scenario of my decision to vote is a programme like Sure Start, guaranteeing every child in Great Britain the best beginning in life through a combination of family, education and health support. The worst case scenario is an illegal invasion like the one in Iraq in 2003. If I were to abstain one of the consequences would be the one I have already seen played out in other parts of the UK. What if by withdrawing my vote (which everyone is entitled to do), I brought in the kind of person I disliked so much that I would then try to vote him/her out of office? Ironic? Yes. Scary? Even more.
That is what Russell Brand conveniently forgets. He is in a position where the jackboot worn by the heavily tattooed, racist, fascist thug from the England Defence League or the British National Party will not reach him. I am not in that position, I am the one who will get his head kicked in because a member of parliament or councillor with racist views has been elected in my borough or ward. Even if they do not succeed in passing the laws they and their supporters want, they can create a very hostile environment for people like me. Yet, that would be, methinks, the last thing on Brand’s mind.
I do not disagree with Russell when he writes or talks about the disenfranchisement of young people in Britain today. I agree with him that the current political climate generates apathy. But apathy is breeding ground, not just for unpopular politicians, but for the ones with the nasty, hardcore right-wing views. I would like to believe that Russell hates them as much as I do.
Like many before him, Brand does not offer any solutions. Or he does, but they are of the wishy-washy, woolly type you find amongst adherents to the Socialist Workers’ Party, a body about which the less I write, the better for everybody. The way forward for him is a two-pronged one: spirituality leads one end, whilst politics (I thought he despised it!) leads the other. I must confess I lost faith in him a little when he explained how he had arrived at this spiritual Damascene conversion. To cut the story short, it involved a trip to a slum in Kenya, another trip weeks later to a fashion show in Paris and a guilty conscience. The political solution he mentioned before? Conspicuous by its absence.
Unlike his detractors, I like Russell Brand’s style. In fact, I still miss his weekly football column in The Guardian. In his essay in The New Statesman, he articulated very well the frustrations many of us feel. He also did it in his interview with Paxman. It is true that there is a bit of the cheeky-monkey about him, but at least he does not organise concerts on behalf of a whole continent and “forgets” to include musicians from that continent (Bob Geldoff, I’m talking to you). But democracy needs more than yet another namby-pamby manifesto. What democracy needs is a shot in the arm. What Russell Brand is suggesting is a shot in the head.
A book review, an essay and a column made me ponder recently on the whys and wherefores of our politcal preferences.
The review was written by David Cameron's former speechwriter, Ian Birrell. His target was The Righteous Minds, an essay-cum-book that offers an insight into why people vote for conservative policies, if not governments. The author, Jonathan Haidt, is a professor of psychology at the University of Virginia. His theories are interesting, if only because they seem to answer some questions whilst posing news ones.
For Jonathan, whose essay appeared as a tie-in for the book release a few weeks after the review, those who sit on the right side of the political spectrum care as much about society as those on the left, even if sometimes some of us might think otherwise. In his opinion, this caring attitude chimes with voters who are interested in values, not programmes, especially government-backed ones. And paradoxically, conservatives have a broader and more mixed palette of ideas, as opposed to the left's single-minded approach. Whereas rightwingers can invoke family ties, personal responsibility and an entrepeneurial spirit, liberals will more likely want to extend a safety net that covers all members of society.
So far, somehow it makes sense. That would go some way to explain why Reagan and Thatcher were voted in in the midst of two difficult economic periods in the US and UK respectively. It wasn't just the promise of a get-rich-quick future, but also a return to values voters treasured more.
In his essay, Jonathan uses the analogy of taste to illustrate why voters lean towards specific flavours, albeit from a moral perspective. Our tongues respond to five classes of chemicals: sweet, sour, bitter, salty and savoury. Although sugary foods get the thumbs-up as the most appealing of these five tastes, most of us opt for a hot, filling meal as a proper dinner.
In a similar way Haidt has identified six areas that affect our moral palate: care/harm, fairness/cheating, liberty/oppression, loyalty/betrayal, authority/subversion and sanctity/degradation. According to him, liberals score highly in care/harm and liberty/oppression but are outsmarted by conservatives in matters to do with group loyalty, respect for authority and sanctity (and not just in a religious context).
Jonathan's theory is that in times of (economical) distress like the one we're undergoing now, people are keener on order and authority and less on nurturing governments.
The only problem with this analysis is that recent events have shown the opposite. France has just elected a left-wing president who wants to raise corporate tax to 75% for companies making more than one million euros per annum. Although Greeks have just voted a rightwing government in, conservative prime minister Mr Samaras is being forced to form a coalition with centre-left parties. And over in Spain, Mariano Rajoy is having problems spelling the word "bailout" to puzzled Spaniards. You can sense that the tide is turning in Europe, and the way it's going is more towards people wanting nurturing as well as order and authority. Especially authority that doesn't tell porkies.
Maybe Jonathan's theory suits the US political scene more. After all, this is election year and the White House incumbent, Barack Obama, faces his sternest test yet. That of the follow-up album. Any musician worth their salt will tell you that if your debut album sells well and has a couple of chart-topping singles, people (including your own fans) will watch very closely what you do with your sophomore record. Do you break away from the format that brought you success or do you stick to the same accolade-winning formula? Not that Obama's last four years have been a fun ride. He hasn't been able or willing to implement the left-of-centre agenda he promised during his bid for the presidency in 2008. And in Mitt Romney, he has a very different opponent to Mc Cain. For starters, Romney has made the core base of the Republican Party forget about his Mormonism, which shows cleverness. Let's not forget that Mormons are not viewed benignly by Republican voters. Questions about care/harm, fairness/cheating, liberty/oppression, loyalty/betrayal, authority/subversion and sanctity/degradation are, then, pertinent. If Romney can demonstrate that he stands for individual liberties against Obama's supposed "nanny state", the latter will not able to stroll to victory as he did four years ago against the dyad McCain/Palin.
That however is on the other side of the pond. Haidt's mention of the UK brought a robust riposte from George Monbiot, eco-warrior par excellence. This is the third element of the trio I mentioned at the beginning. George disagrees with Jonathan's theory of political "taste buds" and blames the lack of support for leftwing policies (in the UK) on voters' apathy. He has got a point. Traditional Labour followers tended to come from a blue-collar background. But once Labour revamped itself and became "New Labour", many of working-class people felt betrayed and gave up on the party. They didn't, however, decamp to the Tories, but chose to stay home on election day.
BBC sitcom "Only Fools and Horses", but were Del Boy and the rest of the gang secret Tories? Photograph: Imagenet
Moreover, it seems to me that British voters are more cynical than their US counterparts. Although I lack the political insight that living in the United States would probably give me, it appears from my vantage point that American elections are as much of a personality competition as they are about policies. Already pundits are predicting a "surprise" in November. All because Romney, unlike Mc Cain, has not got "dodgy shoulders". Contrast that with British people's reaction to the coalition's budget cuts, and the political situation couldn't be more different. There have been protests, strikes (including by teachers and doctors) and government U-turns aplenty since 2010. Our prime minister might be a posh, suave, smooth-talker, but that won't save him from the chop come election day in 2015, if not before.
Jonathan's book (which I've yet to read) sounds interesting and his essay, if not totally convincing, does throw some light on our voting habits. But I think it takes more than just having a political sweet'n'sour palate, metaphorically speaking, to talk voters into pledging their allegiance to a particular party. If you don't believe me, ask the Greeks.
When Diane Abbott, Labour MP for Hackney North and Stoke Newington, announced recently her decision to stand for the Labour Leadership contest, the sighs of both relief and disappointment could be heard all the way from Brixton to Enfield.
To say that the response was mixed would be the biggest understatement of the century. Diane Abbott is a polarising figure. On the one hand her supporters point at a long political career based on grassroots activism. Diane also opposed the invasion of Iraq, one of New Labour's bugbears, took an earlier stand against the erosion of civil liberties and has campaigned to raise minority representation in politics. On the other hand her detractors will cry: 'Hypocrite!' following her decision to send her son to a private school. Her weekly slot on 'This Week', a late-night political programme on BBC1, has brought her closer to Michael Portillo, a former Tory MP; too close for comfort some would say.
I admit that I was chuffed when she finally came clear about running for the Labour leadership on Radio Four's Today programme. Not least, because she rendered a usually vocal James Naughtie, one of the presenters, speechless. Not an easy task, as regular listeners of that programme will aver. But it was what came after that made me wonder whether Diane herself was going a little bit over the top in her enthusiasm to explain why she had put her hat in the ring.
'I followed the Obama campaign and it seemed strange that when the US has a black president, we didn't even have a black candidate for our leadership', she told Hugh Muir of The Guardian straight after. The half cynical part of me was expecting the 'O' word to come out any minute; the romantic one was still hoping that wouldn't be the case.
No, Diane, you're not Barack Obama. And neither is any politician in the UK. And furthermore, we're as far from an 'Obama moment' on these shores as we are from developing artificial life (synthetic DNA, notwithstanding).
I had so far resisted writing about the current president of the USA, not out of fear or reverence, but because so much has been said, argued and counter-argued that one more comment would merely roll off into the vacuum of oblivion. However a recent essay by Naomi Klein ('Branding America', The Guardian Review, Saturday 16th January) made me aware of the perils that await any politician - from the US or elsewhere - that attempts to jump on the 'O' bandwagon.
This is not a post about Obama. It's rather a column about the effect his electoral campaign marketing strategy had in the rest of the world - and it still has. In her fine piece, Naomi dissects the process that made Obama electable. Note that word: electable. And I would like to add, if I may, a few more elements of my own.
The first one is an external factor that was briefly referred to but was quickly overshadowed by Obamamania. Without a George W Bush there wouldn't be a Barack in the White House now. That might seem a bit harsh, but, please, bear in mind that Bush outsourced almost the whole operational side of government to the private sector. In Naomi's own words, 'this hollowing out was not a side project of the Bush years; it was a central mission, reaching into every field of governance. And though the Bush clan was often ridiculed for its incompetence, the process of auctioning off the state, leaving behind only a shell – or a brand – was approached with tremendous focus and precision.' In the UK, on the other hand, this 'hollowing out' has not been as thorough as on the other side of the Atlantic. Therefore the catalyst needed to trigger off a radical overhaul of the political system is not ripe yet. In fact, it has not even been planted.
That leads me to the second element. As much as I celebrated Obama's victory, caution never abandoned me. At some point I remember thinking that one of the reasons why I wanted to see him in the White House (besides his stand on the Iraq war and his plans for healthcare reform) was the fact that had Hillary been elected instead we would have been staring at the following dynastic structure: Bush, Clinton, Bush, Clinton. Bro, can you spare a dime?
For the third factor I quote Naomi again on the fundamental principle of branding: ‘find your message, trademark and protect it and repeat yourself ad nauseam through as many synergised platforms as possible.’ In Obama’s case that was rebranding the US under the ‘Yes, We Can!’ slogan. In Diane’s case, or any other politician looking to exploit a similar gap in the market the possibilities are narrower because this coalition government has conquered that indispensable middle ground on which its future existence will depend but also from which it will fend off any opposition. The first measures taken by the new government in the UK were aimed at dispelling any doubts that this would be a lukewarm administration: the scrapping of the ID cards programme, downsizing or getting rid of useless quangos, school reform and devolution of power (policing amongst other services). This middle-of-the-road approach will make it very difficult for any future opponent to introduce their own version of ‘Change We Can Believe In’. One of the salient aspects of marketing is how a brand trascends the function of the product it promotes. People don’t just buy Nike because the company makes good trainers, but also because they want to trascend their own lives (especially the less well-off) through the brand, hence the effectiveness of their ‘Just Do It’ campaign. Likewise, people - especially youngsters - bought into the Obama brand, mainly, although not exclusively, because he became the canvas on which they projected their innermost desires. All the efforts that have followed thereafter (including The Sun's idiotic Photoshopped cover likening David Cameron to Barack) have been excrucitiangly awful and unimaginative.
I’ve left for the end of this column the most obvious element of why Diane's 'O' moment is unlikely to materialise and yet I was at pains trying to figure out how to write about it. But it’s better to face up to the proverbial elephant in the room head on. Diane Abbott is a black woman of a certain age and weight. Yes, I know that we’re in the 21st century but we’re not in a post-racial era. Nor did Obama usher in one. What he did provide was a temporary solution to the damage inflicted on the US reputation abroad by the Bush administration. And Obama did not hesitate to become the spokesperson for the youtube, facebook generation. As Naomi excellently describes, Barack Obama and his team used every single available tool in the New Gadgets Bible to ram their message home: Change. Logos, expert viral marketing, product placement and choice of strategic alliances (Klein mentions Oprah, the Kennedy family and many hip-hop stars), there was never a shortage of ideas. Unlike the US president, Abbott comes across more like the auntie who tells you off when you don’t show your face around her house for a long time.
I would also like to add that even Obama couldn’t have foreseen that the best weapon for his never-ending arsenal was provided by the Republicans themselves: Sarah Palin. Never have I seen more political incompetence and incoherence than that displayed by Palin. Even Tina Fey, in her famous sketches of the vice-presidential candidate, was far too lenient on Sarah. In fact it wouldn't be far-fetched to imagine that many self-avowed right-wingers would have preferred the writer and star of the American sitcom 30 Rock to run alongside senator John McCain, rather than the Alaskan version of Xena the Warrior Princess. And I still believe that that factor was what finally tipped the scales in Obama’s favour. Unfortunately for Diane Abbott, unless the ‘Cameron/Clegg’ double act starts spewing out nonsense about Britain sharing a border with Russia, there’s not much to galvanise Labour voters, let alone the British electorate to take her up to the next level.
And yet, I support Diane's decision to join the fray for the Labour leadership. Because she will force the other candidates to adopt a more radical position. Diane is fighting a battle on the grounds of better housing, more female and ethnic minority representation in government (there are only four women in the current cabinet) and stronger trade unions. If she can add a cohesive economic agenda to the impressive array of issues she is bringing to the Labour leadership battle, she could be the Wild Card who gets to play in the final of the World Series.
As for whether we need an 'O' moment in the UK or not, I will borrow again Naomi Klein's words on Barack and the effect he's had on the various movements that exist worldwide and that are making demands of the elites that rule them: "What the election and the global embrace of Obama's brand proved decisively is that there is a tremendous appetite for progressive change – that many, many people do not want markets opened at gunpoint, are repelled by torture, believe passionately in civil liberties, want corporations out of politics, see global warming as the fight of our time, and very much want to be part of a political project larger than themselves." Forget about the 'O' moment, Diane, you just need us, the people.
'It's like taking that CD we're listening to now out of this car and playing it in my car instead'.
It was my father who had just spoken. We were listening to the Chucho Valdes' 'Solo: Live In New York' album on our way back to his house from my grandfather's (my dad's dad) in the countryside and my progenitor was answering my wife's question on whether Cuba's situation (political, economic and social) had changed since Raúl Modesto Castro Ruz had come to power last year to replace his elder brother Fidel.
And my father was not the only one having the same thought. Wherever I went in the Cuban capital people just shrugged their shoulders at the same question whilst shooting me (and not my wife) a 'What-do-you-think-bro'er-don't-play-dumb-with-me-now-you-live-abroad- you-know-how-things-work-in-Cuba' look full of defiance and haplessness at the same time.
But there was one shortcoming which my father failed to take into account when he described the current Cuban president and his ruling style.
The power of the spoken word.
Or lack of it thereof.
I had the misfortune to see and hear Raúl speaking in public, a phenomenon that was almost rare when Fidel was still around. Whereas the latter had a knack for oratory on his side Raúl is the opposite. Please, note the use of the past tense in the verb 'to have' in the previous sentence. More on that later.
Like it or not (and the naysayers will be reminding me in no time to give Fidel a wide berth) Cuba's ex-president had the confidence and flair to speak to a congregation for hours on end. Even if a large majority in the crowd would just as soon be somewhere else. Fidel, in his first thirty years at the helm of the Cuban government (1959-1989) displayed the same qualities the ancient Greeks and Romans showed when addressing an audience. His skill as an orator was one of the most important factors in securing support from the Cuban people. This was also helped at the same time by a very effective secret service (G2) and coercion by trade unions, women, children and young people's mass organisations.
Fidel's earlier speeches reminded people, both abroad and in Cuba, of ancient Athens and Rome where orators enjoyed a great deal of popularity. His stand against the US government in the 60s brought to mind Demosthenes' Philippics against Philip II of Macedon. His use of the technique known as 'tricolon', where a speaker uses three elements to emphasise an idea, saw him declaring in 1961 that the Cuban Revolution was 'of the poor, for the poor and by the poor'. That the poor are poorer now remains a moot point, but at the time, 16th April, 1961, they sounded fresh and vibrant, especially in the aftermath of an aerial attack on Cuban soil the day before.
Other techniques used by the ex-lawyer-turned-president were 'antonomasia' and 'call-and-response'. The former refers to the substitution of a phrase for a proper name, i.e., 'those who want Cuba to sink' (the US government in this case, although, who's sunk Cuba more, a bureaucratic, centralised, pseudo-socialist economy, or the embargo, or a combination of both, remains contentious) whereas the latter draws from the African call and response musical pattern (and as an Afro-Cuban dance tutor and performer I should know).
But I have left for the end Fidel's strongest oratorial skill and the one that enabled him to keep a stranglehold on the Cuban population for so many years (hence the past tense of 'to have' above). It was the Aristotelian triumvirate of pathos, logos and ethos: emotion, argument and character respectively. Raúl Castro lacks all three. Fidel hijacked the first one and made it his, closed down the second one and developed the third one to become a blueprint for wannabe dictators (for a bad example, look at Hugo Chávez, the Venezuelan president).
All in all, this discussion about Fidel's erstwhile adroit political rhetoric can't mask the fact that slogans cannot be eaten and again we turn to a historical figure, Roman politician Cicero, who argued that the true orator is one whose practice of citizenship embodies a civic ideal.
This is not a political blog. Politics is divisive and this blog's main aim is to serve as an instrument for me to express my ideas and views on the world that surrounds me and to that end it welcomes different opinions whether it be on music, language or books. However, politics is part of our culture and sometimes sneaks into my posts. Like now.
Today I am mourning for London. The clothes I am wearing may not be black, but my soul has darkened. My beloved adopted city has woken up to a new mayor. And as he is opposed to everything that makes the British capital a paragon of diversity. I feel despondent and angry.
I have lived here in London for close to eleven years now and what has fascinated me since I arrived is the sheer variety of its people. From the Orthodox Jews of Stamford Hill in the north to the Rastafarian community in Brixton in the south, London always has a different card up its sleeve for visitors. I also happen to be married to a Londoner who loves her city and has taught me how to enjoy what it has to offer.
Ken Livingstone, the outgoing mayor, also shares my wife's enthusiasm for this marvellous city. When he talks about London there's a special spark in his eyes and it's hard to imagine someone who will care for this city as much as he has in the last eight years.
And the sad truth is that the incoming mayor will not have the same attitude towards the British capital. A buffoon with a penchant for the grotesque and offensive, Boris Johnson, the new official in charge of London, is nothing but a public school boy with no other interest than waste the capital's money on policies that he does not even know whether they will work or not. Because he came into the post with no policies at all.
It's a gloomy day for my beloved London and my only hope is that these four years go by quickly.
It's paradoxical and contradictory that less than a week after London celebrated thirty years of Rock Against Racism with another landmark concert on the same spot where three decades ago The Clash, amongst other bands, sang against the fascist National Front, the city votes for a person who thinks black people are 'pickaninnies' with 'watermelon smiles'.
Today the tempo of this metropolis is adagio sostenuto. Let's just hope that in four years it changes to a grand finale presto.
