A Tuesday in October upon the Isle of Brexit The Philosophers Tale . Part the First..
It was Tuesday October 15th 2019 Martyn was waiting at the bus stop in Glanrhyd for the X6. He switched on the radio as usual to hear the events unfolding . For the last week the Scottish UDI had meant a stand off between police and armed services loyal to either the British state or the Scottish Republic. In Ireland the barricades had gone up as Derry and West Belfast declared themselves part of a united Ireland. Around the UK groups of the EDL and the DFLA were "protecting" the homes of hard right politicians. A few days before Tommy Robinson had vanished from his prison cell and the Prison Governor was horrified to discover evidence of collusion between the far right and the Prison Staff.
As Martyn listened to Radio 4 he heard sombre music and realised that the BBC was talking about a life of service to her subjects. The death of Elizabeth the Second had thrown another crisis to the decaying and declining British State. The Privy Council were meeting to deal with the crisis. Martyn had heard rumours on Twitter that the Special Branch were drawing up lists of known trouble makers in Momentum, Extinction Rebellion and the SWP.
In Swansea Weeco awoke dreaming of a white right wing UK. Dave of Torfaen looked furtively around as he paced smoking another cigarette. He switched on his phone to text the boys. Roy woke frightened by frightening dreams of the left and l of pursuits led by a man in a hat with round Trotsky like glasses. Charles Wally-Williams dreamt on of tombstones of the 19th century and of the Imperial British past. In Port Talbot Robert Miller slept on , while Dr Danielle and Nick poured laboriously over the posts in Port Talbot Dubious and Abuse searching to deal with the torrent of homophobia, racism and ignorance that poured onto their Pcs from members of the group above l Dr Danielle was most concerned to root out the `faux` pretentious intellectualism of Shrewsbury while the long suffering Nick laboured long and hard to deal with prejudice poured on to his screen by the likes of Covs , Dai Harkins and the rest of the well read and informed cabal of the far right. In distant London Makowski dreamt of shape changing lizards running Rothschild corporations on a flat earth.
In Neath Neil woke to his first coffee and a trawl of the internet. Graham too stood like Martyn at a bus stop anxiously listening to the news. Sister Night and her group in a place out of space and time invoked the ancient radical forces of the great Goddess against the darkness of the closed minds of the political right. Peter Nash thought anxiously of the Franco-German state while Robert Francis dreamnt wistfully of Jo Swindleson...and pictured outside of Number 10
In the Chamber of the House of Commons a sit in was now in its second week and police lines kept the all white right male shaved heads warriors of Weecho's Valhalla from the diverse ethnic and gendered peaceful protesters from the left and environmental movements.
The words on the BBC said an emergency Privy Council meeting would be held at 10. Tom Watson had issued the day before a call for a patriotic Labour Party to be created and Dame Margaret Hodge was once more raising the history of anti Semiticism within the Labour Party while conveniently ignoring the the street gangs of the far right walking the streets of Dagenham.
All of these figures some asleep, some awake some aware some unaware drew themselves up in various stages of consciousness to face their day both individually and collectively to the historical and horrendous events of that Tuesday upon Brexit Island. How would these events link their common destinies and lives in the growing chaos of these dramatic times?