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    It Has To Be Done

    In Britain, an elderly woman, her wrinkled face speaking of seeing thousands of suns, her eyes at first dull but upon study, fearing, looks into a TV camera from where sits in a soup kitchen centre giving free food to those who the markets would destroy through starvation as they themselves feast like locusts upon nations and communities alike.

    The lady pauses before tucking into the food.

    "It's necessary though, isn't it? It has to be done." she says uncertainly of the heralding of the brutal dawn of 'austerity'.

    It has to be done. She and millions like her have to be starved. Why have benefits, when you can have bankers? Why have care, when you can have corporations?

    Phony Olympic mania meanwhile, is biting the dust....and a city bubbles underneath a veneer of glitter, glam and political charades.

    Underneath......underneath? Elderly people starve in their homes, men and women run the rat race, while children walk the streets, told they are nothing, nothing but what they wear, eat, drink, watch, buy.

    Commercial commodities....buy and sell.

    Until they rebel, then they are scum who need to be dealt with by the Army - save the children, murder them.

    Power-players, the yay-sayers and nay-sayers and do-sayers govern, dark deeds and horrors committed under a cloudy sun.

    Winter closes in but it's not the chill that sends shivers through the bones.

    In Italy, a man tries to slash his wrists in front of a government minister because his daughter can not find work.

    In Greece, Oh in Greece, people will set themselves alight because they want to burn their own way and not be torched by having their lives and dreams stolen by the Corporate mafia.

    Or drive into the sea and drown, rather than try and stay afloat in a sea of endless capitalist sharks.

    When generations are condemned, Dogs shall be heroes.

    And the echoes of Berlin '33 are heard up upon the Acropolis.

    It has seen history, it knows the sounds.

    In Portugal and Spain, hundreds of thousands shall march and march, while the media whispers and whispers further still of military coups and what measures can 'settle' the markets.

    In Belgium, in Brussels itself, the heart of the EU is sprayed in Milk from Farmer's machinery.

    In France, Corporate vampires stalk the streets of Paris.

    You're next, they whisper.

    Around the world, create wastelands and call it peace.

    All for profit.

    Create distractions and spectacle and call it entertainment.

    Make death and call it freedom.

    Oui, C'est la vie.

    Vive la RĂ©sistance.

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