….. Who Dunnit… ?
Never in the field of human conflict was so much owed by so many to so few.
I would love to have been a fly on the wall at that meeting.
Who were they? The great and the good, they who decide what 40th Anniversary we should celebrate as a nation. Who sat around that board room table on that fateful day? Was it a toss-up between Punk and the Cod Wars at the end? Are we that short of royals that there wasn’t one around to give birth, marry or die? Yessiree, I sure woulda loved to have been a fly on the wall at that meeting…
Who had that Eureka moment, that fit of divine inspiration, that stroke of absolute genius. Who were those masterminds, the boys in the backroom, the unsung boffins, the brains behind, the Svengali, the genius that lit the torch and led us on this merry dance. I wanna know, I really really really wanna know… I really want to know who the fuck it was that came up with the idea of the 40th anniversary of Punk… Who Dunnit? Who killed Bambi?
First of all, why 40 years? What was the last 40th we celebrated as a nation? No one gave a flying fuck at 10 years, or 20, or 25 or 30. Why is it suddenly really important, at 40, when up until now it’s been a stubborn stain on the fabric of this great nation.
The head of the Greater London Authority, the equivalent to the current Mayor, said society would be better off if all Punks were slaughtered and thrown into a mass grave. And now we have Boris Johnson and allegedly the Queen, waving the Black Flag with safety pins through their noses.
In the first wave of punk rock, nostalgia and sentimentality were discarded and it was aggressively modern and progressive. It deliberately forged a pathway of its own on its own terms, and deliberately distanced itself from the scheme of things imposed by an arcane establishment and sentimentality in search of a fairer more egalitarian society, a cultural and political “Year Zero” from which to start a better world.
Amid the unemployment and social unrest in 1970’s Britain, a mutinous and insurgent attitude prevailed amongst the nihilistic, disaffected and disenfranchised youth of Punk, a united voice screamed a message of discontent. A bleak future summed up by the “No Future” statement spawned a spontaneous reaction against the establishment and established protocols and rituals, a backlash against forced conformity and insignificance.
Punks, through an inevitable self-imposed alienation and establishment imposed isolation, were the flies in the ointment of a rotten compartmentalized society. And now the arbitrary anniversary, 40 years of conformity and complicity.
We are asked to join hands in celebration of Punk by none other than the head of the Bullingdon Club, notorious for its initiation ceremony of burning money in front of the homeless and skull fucking a pig if you’re lucky.
Punk was a problem that needed to be dealt with and so the establishment crushed it, callously through assimilation and contagion. A fawning hand was extended to embrace this embodiment of ethics and energy, and that hand turned into a fist and clutched it by the throat and began to squeeze. And it squeezed and squeezed gradually until finally all the life-force had been choked out of it and it lay limp, silent and cold in the dirt.
It has been appropriated, consumed, subsumed, regurgitated, excreted and rendered impotent. The changes it sought to put in place were simply paid lip service and then ignored and swept under the carpet, the values were abandoned and lost and entirely forgotten. The Military Industrial Complex reaffirmed its right to dictate and crush and control. Punk was starved to death and it died with a whimper and has reincarnated as a weapon of mass distraction and a purely commercial vehicle to be driven until the vehicle falls apart.
Perhaps they could clarify which part of the arbitrary 40-year celebration of ‘ANARCHY IN THE UK’ and the Punk ethos that we are celebrating. The establishment of a new humane and humanitarian society with no world order, the challenge against authority, or the fact that it was ground into the dirt, that it may serve as a warning to others against such fatuous rebellion and is a veiled attempt to rub the dogs nose in the shit. Now Sit! Now Beg! Now Roll Over! FETCH!
The part they want to celebrate is purely a commercial aspect, books, events, advertising, revenue et al. FINANCIAL. How much things are worth as relics and trophies, they’ve been turned into trading cards, trophies to be drooled over by those wealthy enough to purchase them. The revolution failed to revolve
Only it has changed, changed for the worse, a million times worse: catastrophic climate change – global warming – pollution – perpetual war – social cleansing – inequality – racism – mass distribution of weapons – …. FEAR
Contemptuous of its absurdity and inanity, PUNK LONDON congratulates itself on Punks ultimate defeat and withering retreat and for achieving FUCK ALL. This anniversary is nothing more than a token gesture from one hand, designed to avert the gaze while the hand fleeces you completely. Another Weapon of MASS DISTRACTION.
As Rotten announced “Bet you don’t hate us as much as we hate you!”.
So who was it that came up with this little chestnut then? Who Dunnit? Who killed Bambi?