AWESOME EYE MAKEUP IDEAS

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The Ghetto or the Kettle

At about one o’clock the police decided that they were going to keep everyone confined within the Bank of Area. All exits and entrances were blocked off. Photographers with passes were allowed to enter through the cordons into the demonstrations but no-one else was. Apparently this tactic of police officers is called ‘kettling’. It is a good metaphor – because it contains all the excitement in one area – by confining people to one space it also makes people feel nervous, anxious and makes them more prone to using violence. The police know this – they have trained psychologists who can tell them – not that you’d need a psychologist to tell you.

George Monbiot writing for the Guardian said something similar, “The way officers tooled themselves up in riot gear and waded into a peaceful crowd this afternoon makes it look almost as if they were trying to ensure that their predictions came true. Their bosses appear to have failed either to read or to heed the report by the parliamentary committee on human rights last week, about the misuse of police powers against protesters. "Whilst we recognise police officers should not be placed at risk of serious injury," the report said, "the deployment of riot police can unnecessarily raise the temperature at protests."”

Louise Christian, also writing for the Guardian, explained that, “Containment tactics were first used over a long period of time on 1 May 2001 when an anti-capitalist protest at Oxford Circus was corralled by the police for seven hours in bad weather and with no access to toilet facilities. Lois Austin, a demonstrator, and Geoffrey Saxby, a passerby caught up in the demo, challenged their false imprisonment in the courts and on 28 January this year, after Saxby dropped out of the action, the House of Lords ruled that the police had behaved lawfully and Austin had no right to compensation. Delivering the leading judgment, Lord Hope said that even in the case of an absolute right the court were entitled to take the "purpose" of the deprivation of liberty into account before deciding if Article 5 was engaged at all.’

A lot of people started becoming exceedingly frustrated at being kept in to what was a temporary ghetto at the heart of the city. Why, everyone was asking, but the police wouldn’t give us a reason. They speculated, guessed, said they didn’t know, but no-one would give an official reason. This arbitrary, unaccountable and unexplained use of force provoked an image of a police chief rubbing his hands, watching the small bulge in his trousers grow, surveying the CCTV aerial images, and thinking to himself, ‘Well you wanted to hold a protest in the Bank of England you’ve got all day to do it now”. We were stuck in this place, and many people wanted to leave. Meanwhile many people wanted to get in but were prevented by the police. At one point an officer told me that the people on the outside of the demonstration were people who had originally been inside but had since decided that they had wanted to get back in. The police are usually quite genuine people and when they try and lie its as bad as when they try and crack a joke.

Wandering around the ghetto, a sense of panic set in, what would people do without food or water, and where would they go to the toilet. For men its OK, you can have a piss wherever, but what about the dignity of women. Apparently we were all to be denied what we thought were our basic human rights of freedom to move and associate, either for no reason at all, or because a handful of young people had smashed a few windows. There was nowhere to buy and food or drink from and few toilet facilities. There was evidence of a few portaloos in some videos I have seen since, but no way near enough for four thousand people. Men took to urinating against the walls in Cornhill, releasing a sea of piss which covered the pavements and spilled into the gutter. Super Kaff wrote, “As the news that we were imprisoned sank in and spread around the square, the festive atmosphere deflated to a hum of irritation and frustration. More and more people sat down and started chatting, playing cards, reading papers, dozing, twiddling fingers.” The Economist reported, “One man pleads to be let through because he is diabetic and has no food or insulin with him. The officers are unyielding. It is an “absolute cordon” and no one is going anywhere. Scrabbling around in our bags and appealing to the crowd, we manage to scrounge together a banana and a chocolate bar but he is shaky.” It wasn’t an absolute cordon though – two of my colleagues were able to escape through it at some point – and at another point I saw someone with a press pass allowed through. I asked the policeman why certain people were allowed through a second after the guy was allowed to pass through. The policeman said no-one was allowed through, to which I replied I had just seen someone pass through as had he, t

THIRTY-THREE THINGS ABOUT ME (to round out the portrait):

1. I HAVE NEVER . . .
I've never used a credit card. Don't have any concept of how they work and can't imagine a situation where one would be useful. I used to have one just in case, but it expired three years ago.

2. THINGS I DO THAT NO ELSE SEEMS TO ANYMORE . . .
a) I pronounce "says" the way it's written. Until it was recently pointed out to me, I never noticed that other people pronounced it "sez".
b) I retie my shoelaces every time I put my shoes on. How come other people don't seem to do that anymore?
c) I turn off my mobile phone every time I go to bed. When I occasionally call other people late at night, and they tell me they were asleep, I don't understand why their phone was switched on.
d) I greet people with the word "hello", but never hear anyone else use it.

3. GOD . . .
When someone expresses belief in a god, I instinctively feel a little disappointed in them. Can't help it. I feel sorry that they're missing out on all the comfort, morality, and awe of nature that comes from being atheistic.

4. MY BLIND SPOT . . .
I can't distinguish between different types of car without reading the names written on the back. My brain only registers that they are different colours. My idea of hell is being trapped in an elevator with two people who are having a conversation about cars.

5. TRAVEL . . .
The two most beautiful landscapes I've ever seen are the sunrise from the top of Mount Fuji, and Hong Kong at night. I've been to several Asian countries, yet never set foot in Wales. The least likable place I've ever been to is Surfer's Paradise.

6. EXIT MUSIC . . .
Although it makes no difference what happens to my body after my brain is dead, my sentimental side likes to think that Monty Python's 'Galaxy Song' will be played as my coffin is consumed in flames.

7. SMOKING . . .
When I was five, there was an anti-smoking campaign featuring Superman beating up a villain called Nick O'Teen. It made me realise cigarettes were bad and, as a direct result, I have never come close to having one. When I was fifteen, I realised people in my class were smokers, and it made me really depressed. I thought they'd all let me down . . . (Ain't I cute?)

8. EARLIEST MEMORY . . .
My earliest memory is of Kate Bush singing 'Wuthering Heights' on Top of the Pops in January 1978.

9. HEROISM . . .
My country's army does not fight for me or represent me in any way. I don't approve of its actions and I don't respect its soldiers. I don't wish them any harm, and I'll concede that some British soldiers might otherwise be good people, who are just deeply misguided. But they're not heroes.

And it's troubling that Remembrance Day has become an umbrella event for all UK troops, past and present, when there is little moral equivalence between conscripts who were forced to fight for survival against fascism and career soldiers who slaughter Afghan shepherds to strengthen the free-trade interests of powerful nations.

A pet hate: People who say, "I oppose the war, but I support our troops". It's an ethical copout that doesn't stand up to even the briefest scrutiny. Our troops ARE the war. Do you also oppose piracy while supporting pirates?

10. BOOKS . . .
The best book I've ever read is 'The Ancestor's Tale' by Richard Dawkins. It made me cross with myself for wasting my teen years studying drama instead of something scientific and useful. Or maybe 'No Logo', which turned me on to politics. The best novel is either 'Slaughterhouse Five', which is written with the most brilliant economy of language, or 'Lolita', which is beautiful, tragic and manipulative.

11. HAIR . . .
My hair has thinned out on top and there is no point my trying to grow it again. This is not something that bothers me, or to which I ever give any thought except for when other people point it out for no reason at all. Their strange need to do so suggests they have some kind of complex about going bald, and they ought to relax about it. It really doesn't put the slightest dent in the quality of your life.

12. PATRIOTISM . . .
I can't stand patriotism. It's irrational nonsense, and brings so much negativity into the world. The Olympics claims to bring people together, but really just reinforces the idea of "us" versus "them". We were all born totally at random on different parts of this ball of space-rock, and it's bizarre to base your worldview on such a cosmic fluke. Flags are not sacred. They are just pretty patterns on pieces of cloth, and it would be great to burn the U.S. flag on Ann Coulter's front lawn, just for the fun of annoying her. Any kind of tribalism—such as rival football fans hurling supposed 'banter' at each other—cheapens us as a species.

13. CINEMAS . . .
The worst film I've ever seen in a cinema is 'Ocean's Twelve'. The part where the character played by Julia Roberts pretends to be Julia Roberts made me chew my knuckles and