Looking back to the playground of St. Osmund’s RC Primary School in the district of Breightmet in the Lancashire mill town of Bolton I remember being questioned at the time as to whether my training shoe allegiances lied with Puma or Adidas. I owned neither, due to my parents not being too well off as well as the alarming rate my feet were going through far cheaper trainers. But it was quite clear I had to make a choice. I said Puma because I liked the fact the trainers I
never really longed for had a cat on the side. Only many years later did I realise that this cat shared the same name as the brand. So, I was in the Puma gang. I assumed we would be involved in some long-standing war against the Adidas kids culminating in us forging together to form the shape of a big nimble cat as we tried desperately to smash down Adidas’ three lines of staunch, unwavering seven-year-olds. It turned out nothing more was said on the matter and I think I had some Adidas trainers before Puma ones after my dad got a better job and we left Breightmet for Heaton.
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http://www.wikiwand.com/en/Manchester_Roadhouse |
This binary choice has followed me throughout my life. Soon after choosing Puma all us boys were forced to choose Sega or Nintendo. As the girls had to agonise over Sindy or Barbie. As Bolton only had one football team the choice was football or not. Then the hormones kicked in and girls chose themselves. Closely followed by Blur or Oasis. At college reading the NME whilst sneering at the popular boys trying to have sex with the popular girls it became clear I would have to nail my political allegiances to the mast. Red or Blue? The advice I remember getting from a drunk at a gig at the sadly missed Roadhouse in Manchester around the 1997 election (I was five months too young to vote in) was this:
‘There are only two rules in life – 1. Don’t hit women. 2. Vote Labour.’
The two seemed obviously linked to me, confirming my socialist tendencies which had been creeping up on me since being introduced to the word by Billy Bragg soon before. Still, later on that night the now far, far drunker man did refer to the two main parties as ‘Two cheeks of the same arse.’ A reflection I may have been wiser to cling on to.
The bipartite quandary is all over the place.
PC or Mac?
Android or iPhone?
Coke or Pepsi?
Tea or Coffee?
Rice or chips?
I know there are often minor alternatives but I’ve tried getting by with a pen and paper, an old Nokia, living off cherryade, fennel tea and kale and the results were disappointing at best.
PC or Mac?
Android or iPhone?
Coke or Pepsi?
Tea or Coffee?
Rice or chips?
I know there are often minor alternatives but I’ve tried getting by with a pen and paper, an old Nokia, living off cherryade, fennel tea and kale and the results were disappointing at best.
This Saturday the dubious character of Tommy Robinson showed up to spew his bile all over Media City, very close to where I work. I say character because Tommy Robinson isn’t his real name. It’s actually Stephen Christopher Yaxley-Lennon. Almost certainly chosen because it scans into various football chants which can apparently get you a long way in 21st Century politics – just ask (oh) Jeremy Corbyn. Whose real name is probably something ending with Hitler or Starting with Adolf, or both. Anyway, I was working on Saturday so me and a couple of colleagues went along to have a look at the protest and the protest against the protest. And it struck me that the protest was not something I agreed with simply because it was being led by a known racist and I am not one. Surely that’s simple. But the protest against the protest seemed to be aggravating the protesters even further, giving them strength and attention. Which, from their lazy, drunken yells was lost on them. I did suggest starting a protest against the protest against the protest as a joke. Then encourage someone to protest against me. But that would’ve probably taken things full circle and caused a rip in the space time continuum.
As I ambled back to work it struck me that my ‘Down With Protests’ protests whilst oxymoronic, wasn’t a bad idea. The current political terrain of Brexit/Remain forces us to pit ourselves against each other with no mid-ground or alternative. Throughout our lives we have constantly been forced to pick a team. Red or Blue, In or Out, Giving A Shit or Not Giving a Shit. Just because I believe in equality, the spreading of wealth, higher taxation and justice for all (which means me a comrade or communist in most people’s eyes), does that mean I have to believe every traditional left wing policy? I totally believe in freedom of the individual and the benefits of the free market, in progress and growth. Which makes me sound like Margaret Thatcher’s love child. This confusion is CREATED by binary thought. We are always the goodies and they are always the baddies but the second we start to the see the baddies as having some good ideas we get scared., confused and put on an old Billy Bragg/Gary Numan record. But I like them both!
The thing I believe in most is freedom and the thing I abhor most is control. Forcing people to believe anything, whether they want to believe it or not is not a force for good – it is Fascism whichever way you look at it. Just because I believe in most of the standard left wing values doesn’t mean I have to believe them all. Forcing people to choose a side is a very right-wing thing to do and they are free to try and make us. But we’re are free to say no, whether we know it or not.
So answer me this -
should we take to protesting against our binary culture -
should we take to protesting against our binary culture -
yes or no?
Matt Lidis is a Writer and this is his Third Guest Blog Post for the Shark Fisherman of Wales.
He is such a good writer, as I'm sure you'll agree by following him @matthewlidis on Twitter and mattlidis on Instagram that I will be offering him a regular slot on here to showcase his talents. So no longer a guest but a contributing writer. Look out for future blogs with the title 'Matt Lidis Writes' Thank you Matt.
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