So it’s the first of May and the weather outside is beautiful, a perfect spring morning. I am sitting in my study with the windows open and listening to the birds chirping as I write. The peaceful quite is shattered every now and then with the sound of a helicopter overhead or the sound of police sirens in the distance.
I live very near Taksim Square: 10 minutes rapid walk, 15 minutes maximum if you really take it slow. Taksim Square is closed down and the entire police force of the city, plus some from the neighbouring cities, is there en masse. They are “defending” the Square from the workers who want to reach it. To the best of my knowledge pepper gas and water have prevented them from doing so until now. However my knowledge is very limited since I do not have a television. I check the internet for news updates every now and then. A lot of my friends intended to join the demonstration attempt and I am worried.
It is weird to be so close and so far away but it would have felt even weirder to sit so close and watch the events from television. Despite everything, this is exactly the kind of time when I am happy that I don’t have access to TV. Officially today is not a holiday however the entire city is closed down, no ferries, no schools, no one going to work. Seda is watching “Desperate Housewives” on DVD and I am reading Patrick Califia’s book: “Speaking Sex to Power”. I am aware that this seems a form of escapism and I also know friends who would consider our activities of this morning a scandal.
I am not going to go into detail about the reasons behind my determination not be caught up in what is obviously a deliberate attempt to build tension to the point of catastrophe. Or how I regard being glued to the TV, learning what’s going on around the corner from the dubious news, as the worst form of escapism, a flight into paralysing anxiety, a form of vampirism. Nor do I feel the need to elaborate on why I think there is no point in joining the demonstrators unless you are part of an organisation and my belief that only organised forms of resistance has any meaning. These are prickly subjects that create never-ending arguments, which in the end are futile. Suffice to say that this is the first time I have let a news item become the subject of my blog, although I was tempted a while ago, when Pippa Bacca was raped and murdered. I have a strong urge to think and express my thoughts on things when they are not the pressing news item and when there is not too much emotion involved. So I hope to come back to elaborate on such points when people will seem to have forgotten all about them and 38 years of life has given me ample evidence that forget they will and sooner rather than later.