by Sam Kriss ARIES (March 21-April 20) Things are looking better for you, Aries, but you’re not out of the woods yet. Saturn, the star of melancholy, paralysis, and ill health, is in transit across your ninth house, where it will remain until December 2017. While the long stretch of involuntary abstinence and familial disintegration that dominated the period from mid-June to late September is coming to a close, with this shift new problems may emerge. Now is a good time to start a new relationship, although it will quickly become tedious. Saturn rules your career sector; under this
by Andrea Gibbons In an article in Internationale Situationniste #2, Abdelhafid Khattib of the Algerian section of the organisation attempted the first in depth psychogeographical study of the area of Les Halles. The study was cut short due to a continuing curfew against Arabs on Paris streets. As a coda to Khatib’s initial findings, the following note was appended: This study is incomplete on several fundamental points, principally those concerning the ambient characteristics of certain barely defined zones. This is because our collaborator was subject to police harassment in light of the fact that since September, North Africans have
FICTION by Nick Mamatas Characters: THE PERSON WHO WAS FOLLOWED AROUND BY MEN IN PIG MASKS: Selected randomly from the audience. To avoid racist or sexist or other oppressive subconscious decision-making, selection should be made with a random-number generator. THE MEN IN PIG MASKS: There are three. To start. Also in suits. THE INTERROGATOR: A woman in her thirties, in a business suit and skirt. SCENE 1 We are in a theatre built to replicate in miniature the theatre in which the play is being presented, including its position in the city in which the theatre is located. The stage
by Kalpana Wilson Sajida recognised many of the men who came to her house that night and beat her father Akhlaq to death with the bricks that they found under his bed. It was already past ten when the 200-strong lynch mob of young men – her Hindu neighbours – forced its way into the house. Minutes earlier an announcement had been made over the newly installed loudspeakers of the Hindu temple in the village: one of the handful of Muslim families in the village – Sajida’s family – had eaten beef. By the time the police arrived, Mohammed Akhlaq
Salvage left our last perspectives in anxious willing-to-be-wrong-ness about Greece. Everyone on the Left knows how the story has played out. The bad news is very bad. The radical left group Syriza came to – unprecedented – power. It struggled. It railed against the austerity that had devastated its economy and society. And then, ultimately, with much wailing and gnashing of teeth, its leadership capitulated to its creditors, to finance and austerity.
by Morgane Merteuil It is a far from straightforward decision to found a union in a sector in which such an organisation has never existed before. For the most part, trade unions today have a (long) history: it may not be rare for workers to join a union, but it certainly is for them to participate in one’s founding and initial building. It is acutely challenging when the work itself to be organised is not entirely legal; when most of the workers are migrants in very precarious situations, who are regularly arrested and deported; when the legal context overlooks,
by Nicholas Beuret and Gareth Brown The culture of the Anthropocene crawls with narratives of survival. A quick glance at the last few years’ TV and cinema listings reveals a plethora of such things, suggesting that the public appetite is strong enough for these narratives now to be considered an aspect of mainstream popular culture where once they may have been niche. Most recently in the cinema, Interstellar has explored a number of themes common to these narratives such as scarcity, waste, and salvage. However, whilst Interstellar seeks refuge in the familiar, age-old ideas of exodus, pioneering, and the
by Richard Seymour And that will be England gone, The shadows, the meadows, the lanes, The guildhalls, the carved choirs. – Philip Larkin The British crisis has a human form. A shabby, caecilian smile. The rorty bray of an arriviste thug. The exasperated air of a lone trader fighting the Inland Revenue for every last penny. Some rehearsed off-the-cuff witticisms alleviating a tense sales patter. There is just something about Nigel, once a forgettable clown, that is now luridly compelling.
by Franco Fortini Those as old as I read Marx in light of our wars. They always heard called ‘Marxist’ those whom the power of weapons, profit or power sought to reduce to silence. ‘And you, how do you call the people oppressed or killed in the name of Marx?’ I will now be asked – perhaps imagining that I haven’t yet found the time to ask myself. I answer that they’re on my side. I count them among those who since 1917, the year of my birth, have been the enemies of my enemies, in Madrid as in
by Franco Fortini How have we lived, in the last thirty years? Before replying, try to read the conclusions of this book*, which did so much in its time. The first of eight Italian editions is from 1962, one year after the French, a few months before Fanon’s death. The revolt of the Arab world and of the Black world, Africa and Algeria. Who was that doctor from the Antilles, between psychoanalysis and Marxism, prefaced by Sartre, who still dared to write: ‘Come, then, comrades, brothers’? The idiot who, one eye open, dozes in all of us, opens the