I could hear my heart beating,” wrote Ray Carver. “I could hear everyone’s heart. I could hear the human noise we sat there making, not one of us moving, not even when the room went dark.
But the problem is that struggles like these are never over. Not in our lifetime not in our children’s or their children’s. The struggles against homophobia, racism, patriarchy, poverty, etc. are not resolvable. It is kind of depressing to think that I’m not ever going to lie in the sun and relax and forget about patriarchy. Its true, though, I’m not. So we want destinations, we want final results. Of course we never accomplish the final results we want. We accomplish some other results. I’ve always thought that political actions are never effective. I mean the protests against the Vietnam war didn’t stop the Vietnam war, the military campaign stopped the Vietnam war. The Vietnam war protests served another purpose that produced something else than the successful end of the war. They were very well organized protests, they had very clear cut goals, clear cut ends, but they never achieved them. Which doesn’t mean they weren’t successful. They were successful but in doing something else. And that’s always the case, that’s always what politics are about. You never quite know what it is you’re accomplishing until afterward, and its never what you set out to achieve.
A truly public Midan al-Tahrir would have been feared as a threat to regime security, and so over the years the state deployed the physical design of urban space as one of its chief means of discouraging democracy. In Tahrir this meant erecting fences and subdividing open areas into manageable plots of grass and sidewalks. To cite one prominent example: the large portion of the square that fronts the Egyptian museum was, until the 1960s, a grassy plaza with crisscrossing paths and a grand fountain. Here families and students would gather throughout the day; it was also a notorious meeting point for lovers on a date in the heart of the city. But in the 1970s, the government fenced off the area—and more, it never offered any clear explanation of what was to be the fate of this favorite meeting spot. Cairenes speculated that perhaps it was closed to allow for construction of the Cairo Metro or other infrastructure projects. Sometime in the past decade a sign appeared, announcing that a multi-level underground parking garage was being built. During the protests in Tahrir Square, activists took down the fence and used it to build barricades to protect themselves from the attacks of pro-Mubarak thugs—and the removal of the fence revealed that none of the promised construction had ever taken place. The area had been taken away from the public sphere precisely to avoid the possibility of large crowds congregating in Tahrir. Such was Mubarak’s urban planning legacy.
A Met spokesman said: “We accept and understand the negative visual impact that water cannons create and concerns around the potential for them to cause injuries,” but added: “When faced with major criminality taking place… it is our duty to keep the peace and Londoners safe. We strongly believe that this tactic will help us to do this.”
Then as now, the minister refused to release the video of the operation. The navy videos everything. Then, as now, obscure “operational” reasons were said to make it impossible to put the evidence on the table. (via Burnt hands, children overboard, it all seems the same to Peter Reith | David Marr | Comment is free | theguardian.com)

Then as now, the minister refused to release the video of the operation. The navy videos everything. Then, as now, obscure “operational” reasons were said to make it impossible to put the evidence on the table. (via Burnt hands, children overboard, it all seems the same to Peter Reith | David Marr | Comment is free | theguardian.com)

Every day I am bombarded with e-mails and invites to ‘pop-up’ shops, bars, food trucks, #genuineMexicanstreetfood; to ‘launches’, ‘campaigns’ and ‘unique experiences’. The echo chamber of self-congratulation is deafening. Where are the critics? Who is shining the light on the fact that to pay homage to the decor of an American dive bar while failing to match its notoriety for cheap prices is disingenuous? Am I the only one who thinks there are cultural references beyond New York City? Where’s the affordable film being shown for the sake of the film and not the bar receipts that aren’t moonlit? Who is pointing out that all the new small bars are owned and run by the same people; that the cheap liquor licenses ­– for all their benefits – are now a license to print money off the back of exorbitant drink princes and to build an empire of establishments as sanitised as the old boozers were? We desperately need critics unafraid to challenge individual’s enterprise, giving an honest appraisal of the city’s fortunes in its endeavour for cultural relevance so that a discourse beyond ‘events’ can flourish.
the way we drink (and take drugs) is, and will always be, about how much freedom we have to assemble. That always depends on whether the state and its enforcers approve of how we enjoy ourselves.
Susan Sontag wrote seventeen thousand one hundred and ninety-eight e-mails, which will soon be available for consultation on a special laptop.
One moment which stands out in the recollections of all viewers is the scene in which the pudgy, bespectacled school girl character Edith played by novice actor Christine Schuler, seemingly perceives evil. She cries out for the other three girls to stop their ascent of the eerie rock formation before screaming and taking flight in terror. It is a defining moment of the movie, conveying a sense of horror and alarm which raises goose bumps. However viewers would be surprised to know that this famous scream never emanated from Christine Schuler’s lips. It was dubbed in afterwards by a trained voice actor. Indeed every word of dialogue uttered in the movie by Christine Schuler was dubbed, with the voice of actress Barbara Llewellyn.