Dandy Thoughts 2017

As we slowly walk closer, towards the light

many areas of darkness will be exposed

not that we were masking – hiding them

but they remained hidden in the depths

of our heart and soul

Now facing the ever-engulfing truth

the truth we desire, search for, yearn for

our duty is to conquer these foes,

for this darkness brings not peace or freedom

but slavery, bondage and fear

so as they are exposed to the ever-increasing light,

they flee in terror

into the dark night whence they came.

So the fire in our soul now burns brighter

as we integrate this knowledge

into our whole being,

ever growing

ever learning

ever changing,

Slowly becoming wise, discerning

a person of understanding

at one with our emotions and feelings,

accepting both hurt and disappointment

as equally as love and hope,

embracing each day

For we truly are alive….

 

M.C. Bolton, January 2017

 

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Photo of Surprise View, Peak District, by TC

Women Wage Peace

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When Men Can’t.

I found the volunteering of Israeli and Palestinian women to make a stance against war together, magnetic, ironic, inspiring and even prophetic. At the same time serving as a mercy to silly men in suits who make decisions, offering them a final chance to listen to the earth’s cries before it consumes us all. As men have continuously failed at this ego-free opportunity to relieve the planet, I wanted to talk with a more reasonable group. 

Yael Treidel is an active member of Women Wage Peace. W.W.P. are a collective of Israeli women who decided to unite in an effort to stop the warring in the wider region. On October the 4th 2016, WWP set off on a two-week march to Jerusalem. 
 It seems that Sunday, anywhere else in London, could be considered a day of rest but not in the  W11 area.  One phone call later, after struggling to get a peaceful place to converse in a busy venue in Notting Hill, I’ve finally managed to secure an empty office space with enough solitude to satisfy a sleepy baby. The famous Skype ring tone disturbs the rooms blissful peace and off we go.

UDL: Hi Yael, is that any better for you (the connection)?

Yael: Yes, right now it sounds much better.

UDL: Good. Did you hear any of what I said before?

Yael: Yes I heard it, I just wanted to tell you that we are definitely not the first ones to do this. The women in Liberia were the main reason and maybe the only reason why the slaughter there stopped so they are a great inspiration for us. The peace in Northern Ireland, the women were very important there too. Also, even here there was a group in the 90’s called The Four Mothers and they actually were an important cause of why we pulled out of Lebanon. So women are doing it already and have been for a while.

 

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A statue erected for The Four Mothers in Petah-Tikva, Israel

 

UDL: This is a new realisation for me, I guess I’m quite naive in respect of that but I am 100% in support of it, and that’s why I want to do whatever I can to further this cause and spread it.
Who started W.W.P. and what inspired you? Continue reading

Christmas 1914 Meets 2016

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Christmas day ww1 football, photo taken from here

Oh! Let us find our no man’s land

deep within our soul.

Just a moment’s fleeting peace

even for one day.

Feeling the futility of constant war

mustard gas mist lingering like madness,

hatred, fear, despair stoked by desk generals,

rulers of but dust – egg timer imprisoned,

carving pal’s battalions into race, religion, class.

Like a crazed Biology tutor

dissecting a locust,

as we slowly evolve

into twenty-fingered cyborgs

quickening our movements

into our own Galaxy or Apple of Eden’s Fruit,

our third eye now just a screen,

for now only the blind truly see,

snowmen who show more compassion

slowly melting in the heat of constant lies,

over the top once more my friends.

Shelling ceasing – exploding petals of death

no longer falling like rain,

churning men into mud 

devoid of God’s breath of life,

so walk with me

take my hand.

Finding eternal peace once more

as we march into no man’s land…

 

MC Bolton, Christmas 2016

Two Weeks in Castro’s Cuba

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by Tom Charles

Prologue

In 2005, I was haggling over payment for a job. I wanted £1500, he offered £1000, we settled on £1000 plus his air miles to go anywhere that Virgin Atlantic fly to. The choice was Lagos or Havana, so on Thursday 18th August I set sail from Gatwick airport to Cuba.

I kept a diary, but never read it back for fear that it might be cringeworthy…until now, as I type, with small modifications to protect the innocent… Continue reading

Lad Broke Groove

By Tom Charles

“In the heart of the Urban Dandy is the fate and the conflict of the bohemian, to become preoccupied with the things he/she shuns – materialism and money” (About Us)

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Art by Angel Lewis

Descriptions like this can be traced back nearly two centuries when the word ‘Bohemian’ was first used to define those who didn’t fit the mainstream, bourgeois view of respectable living.

Mid-nineteenth century bohemians were those associated with alternative lifestyles and world views, engaged in the arts, writing and philosophy. They were united in their rejection of bourgeois materialism, trivia and sentimentality. What was respectable to the bourgeois was, to the bohemians, banal.

The thinker Alain de Botton describes the “martyr figures” of the bohemian value system as those who “sacrificed the security of a regular job and the esteem of their society in order to write, paint or make music, or devote themselves to travel or to their friends and families”[i]

By favouring sensitivity over worldly attachment, bohemians found themselves destitute, unable to reconcile themselves to spending their time and energy in service of a job they loathed to secure comfortable material lives. They looked elsewhere, forming their own subcultures and alternative movements.

But while mainstream society has its status symbols (peerages, job titles, awards, bling etc.) the bohemians’ status is attained through social skills, poetry, choice of reading material and company kept.

In the 1800s, society reported only bourgeois achievements and alternative heroes were seldom seen. The bohemian response to this freezing out was to try to shock respectable society out of its complacency. The Dadaists and Surrealists provided alternative voices to the prevailing narratives of social conservatism and fear of difference. Similarly, the Beat poets challenged a culture dominated by those who believed society offered a just reward system.

Bohemians tend to gather in ghettos, a survival instinct and economic necessity. Inner city areas with low end rent have been the focal point, potential havens of freedom, liberation and creativity.

All well and good, but any Bohemian must operate within the laws of the land. And so, the fate of the bohemian is still to become preoccupied with what is ostensibly shunned: money and material comfort.

In North Kensington, a wind chill factor of poverty blows in. Over half of the Borough’s children attend private schools, while 41% of their peers live in poverty. Boho? Many of those who had enjoyed a degree of material comfort and predictable security can no longer rely on this. And the society is more atomised and less community-based than ever. The future is uncertain.

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Screen-grab from the Kensington and Chelsea Foundation

Under an entirely unnecessary sham economic policy called ‘Austerity’, brutal class war is being waged. For those leaving university with five figures of debt, fulfilling their life’s purpose and building a community that enables people to realise their own individuality is not an option. Neither is debt slavery an economic benefit to the country; it is a deliberate, class-based political decision.

The result is best articulated by Oscar Wilde: “There is only one class in the community that thinks more about money than the rich, and that is the poor. The poor can think of nothing else. That is the misery of being poor”[ii].

The confusion of the value of a human with the monetary value of what they possess has led the majority into tedious, demoralising work in a bid for respectability. Wilde said that our society has been constructed on such a basis “that man has been forced into a groove in which he cannot fully develop what is wonderful, and fascinating, and delightful in him – in which, in fact, he misses the true pleasure and joy of living”[iii].

And this is the dilemma of the Urban Dandy; it is what is inside them that enriches life. But they must live outwardly. And that is why, in our hundredth post we declared our intention:

“Identifying with the downtrodden, the poor and the dandies, the human, those who won’t back down and those that capitulate under pressure”.

A final warning: Beware of the word Bohemian now. It has been bastardised, called Boho…Tory Bohemia

 

Vacuous

Been the king of Notting Hill, Lord of Ladbroke Grove

Seen new money flooding in, pretentiousness exposed!

All about the bag you hold, label inside your clothes

Even though it’s daddies cash you wanna be boho!

Without a picture painted, book or verse

A modern day hippy – but in reverse!

The queen of hearts has marked your card

Like me seen through the looking glass

Oh! Alice dear you’re lost in space

What’s really happening to this place

But Alice dear -don’t you understand

For most of us it’s not wonderland!

 

Poem by MC.Bolton, 2015

 

Endnotes:

[i] Alain de Botton, Status Anxiety, Penguin (2005), p. 280

[ii] Oscar Wilde, The Soul of Man Under Socialism, in The Complete Works of Oscar Wilde, p.1180

[iii] Ibid p.1178

Stillborn (for Joey)

Oh! Wait for me my little one

beside those heavenly gates

your mother’s womb your only home

such was your blessed fate

in death you found a wondrous birth

entering heaven’s sacred halls

where angels keep you safe and warm

to that dimension born

not to know the pains of life

or mankind fallen – flawed

now swaddled only in peace and love

in all its purest form

nor feeling loss so brutal cruel

Your heart in two is torn

So wait for me my little one

beside those heavenly gates

where this wounded soul once more

can pull you to his chest

united again forever more

in your eternal rest…

 

M.C. Bolton, November 1, 2016

 

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An Un-Zulu Nation

In respect of the natural path of truth and also empathy, we felt it necessary and an honour to speak with an ex-Zulu Nation member, to set the record straight, hoping to inform the world of how one man suffered out of a perverted salacity going on behind closed doors during the preliminary days of the Zulu Nation.

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The Kinky In The Chain

When you hear the power in the word Zulu, you’re taken back to thoughts of the 70s movie Zulu Dawn. You think of group strength, greatness, unity, trial and victory among a tribe overcoming conflicts together as one unit. These appear to be some of the fundamentals that made the Battle of Isandlwana (1879), which the movie was based on, impossible for the British to win against the united Zulus.

Fast forward a hundred years and change, to the 80s. African Americans and their displaced counterparts around the world re-discovered and then embraced the word again; only this time as a nation with, instead of a physical battle going on, a psychological war in their midst. They combine music, rap, graffiti and dance culture together like links on a chain to a proud past. This came as a salvation to a people that had long been politically and strategically dismantled.

The new and fresh Zulu Nation was full of soul and hope, having all the potential and elements within to resurrect those ancestral spirits. It should have been as easy as A , B , C, but there was a warp in the design – a kink in the chain.

It was formed by Afrika Bambaataa, aka Kevin Donovan, aka Lance Taylor, becoming the so-called father of The Zulu Nation and Hip Hop in a sense; yet he and his associates managed to keep the fact that he was covertly homosexual, with a fetish for young boys, under their hats. This eventually became the straw that broke the camel’s back.

 

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Afrika Bambaataa, The Zulu Nation

Continue reading