It was Christmas morning and little children lay half-snuggled,
half-sleeping in their beds awaiting the miracle of the gifts as
advertised on TV and available for a price in their local shops. Parents
toss and turn in the next room thinking of empty purses, overdrafts and
sinister threads from the building society. Meanwhile, in the misty
twilight between bad and worse, lurks the grim-faced oracle of
times-yet-to-come.

Can it get worse under this profits-first-needs-second system? 

Come, little ones, and see the bleakness of Christmas-yet-to-come.

You remember a time when there were just beggars squatting in the
doorways. Folk knowledge had told that they were not always there, but it
is all rather hard to remember.  Than came the first of the families. Most
disconcerting. The first dead body you walked around, careful to avoid the
stench and flies, was always the one that stuck in your mind. Poor little
thing – not enough money to feed it and the others, so…

Than came the neighbours who had collapsed under the swamp of the
threatening letters from moneylenders. She was on drugs; the doctor put
her on tranquillisers so that she would never properly have to think of
those hopes she once had when she had little shop and they bought the
house. It makes you stop and think when you see the people from down the
street begging for a quid to feed the ones who might survive the winter.

Of course, Straw and Blanket Laws helped none.  David Blanket was one of
the most hated Home Secretaries ever (they all are, aren’t they?).
Although the “Sun” was full of praise for his measures to hose down the
pavements at five each morning. “Spraying the No-Hopers”, the kids call
it. 

And the Prescott Act, long in planning but only realisable with a
government that could get unions to support the scheme, has done wonders
to put the young jobless in uniforms and give them a dose of good
old-fashioned discipline. The Liberal-Democrat amendment to cut all
welfare payments to scroungers without A1 workfare reports was highly
praised in a “Guardian” editorial.

The deaths from the nuclear blow-out in the Ukraine show no sign of
letting up. What woman would want to be pregnant this Christmas, with the
rate of miscarriages and still-births greater than the number of healthy
children born? Everyone saw it coming. After Chernobyl, when the report
was issued in the 2005 about the cover cover-up on deaths from radiated
beef, there was a short scare that if another one went up it would be
goodbye to a few million Europeans. They never said it would be as bad as
it was when the next one did blow up. Will the war with the Russia ever
end? This weekly nuclear alert drills are getting everyone down.

Who would have thought there would be a civil war in the USA?

It’s the kind of thing we use to read about in history books. You expected
it in Ireland or Yugoslavia, but somehow it all looked so stable from a
superficial point-of-view… hundreds of thousands dead and who knows how
many maimed and homeless? The wags say that the IRA are taking collections
in Dublin pubs for the New York Police Militia who have been taken
prisoners by the Nation of Islam.

The ads become more depressing every day. And there are so many more of
them, even on the BBC now. Everyone wants to sell you insurance. It’s like
one big protection racket. That one about the little boy with leukaemia
who gets turned away from the State Market Hospital and has to sell his
bike to get some painkillers… I mean, come on, there are limits to taste.

But that’s the thing: there are no limits. The future of the profit system
is not a subject for the delicate of taste or the nervous in mind to
study. Best think that everything will just go on as it is. What a
horrible thought! Best not to think at all.

And the children wake up to find at the end of the bed the bargain models
of the goodies which advertisers spent millions persuading them they
wanted. What is to be a carefree infant on such a lovely day. The parents
take confidence that the kids will always be snug and forget for a while
the abject poverty which the majority of the world’s kids are living in
right now. 

The Queen will come after the Tesco chicken-bites and reassure them that
all is well in this sickest of social orders. She is the Ghost of
Christmas Present. 

And whether what we have allowed ourselves to think for a while about the
times to come does come?


Well that is up to us to permit or forbid, for we make history, and we
alone have the power to stop nightmares from coming true.

Even Scrooge could see that.

Jt

www.worldsocialism.org


__________________________________________________
Do You Yahoo!?
Everything you'll ever need on one web page
from News and Sport to Email and Music Charts
http://uk.my.yahoo.com

Reply via email to