• Monthly
  • $25
  • $50
  • $100
  • $other
  • use PayPal

SPRING FUNDRAISER

Is it time for our Spring fundraiser already? If you enjoy what we offer, and have the means, please consider donating. The sooner we reach our modest goal, the faster we can get back to business as (un)usual. Please, stay safe and we’ll see you down the road.
FacebookTwitterRedditEmail

Kidnapping Jesus at Christmas

I’m back in England after a fruitless searchfor teaching English work in Spain and Morroco.  I arrived practically penniless.

To my great relief there was a Western Union agent at Luton airport and I was able to Access the 161 pounds my brother sent, so the money problem is over for a while.

When I explained my situation about being homeless and wanting to claim social security to the information desk I was sent to see the chaplain of the nearby church and she adviced me to go to this place ‘Noah‘ –  in Luton where I was give chicken soup and some sandwiches on the premises with a small group of mixed nationalities, and I am to be give a bed in a shelter dorm nearby after I’ve give my details to a rather bossy woman supervisor.

There is no wifi in the place, so I was allowed out for half an hour to access internet in a noisy nearby Irish pub. The group and me will be taken to the dorm at 10 pm and we have to be at Noah for breakfast at 8.15 am. I don’t usually get up until 8.30! Don’t like this regimentation. Beggars can’t be choosers; I suppose, but tomorrow, after visiting a Citizen’s Advice Bureau; I think I’ll head into London and try to find a cheap hostel where I can be more independent while pondering what to do next.

* * *

We had to be up at 6am! (not 8am) this morning and were escorted back to the other charity building for a cup of tea and then ejected at 7.30 into the cold dark rainy predawn, not allowed back into the Shelter until 10 pm at night. The woman in charge was bossy and condescending to all. I think the streets might be preferable to such conditions.

Writing this in a Luton Coffee shop. Don’t want to go back to that shelter tonight. I may head into London and try to find a cheap hostel where I can be more independent while pondering what to do next. 150 pounds left. What a curse money is!

* * *

I’m sleeping in a cardboard box on an iron grating outside the back of a Sainsbury’s store in Camden Town under a staircase in a quite a concealed position. It’s quite well lit by a street lamp and behind a lowish iron barred fence which I can easily climb. Buses and cars stop at a traffic lights on the nearby street and I hear blasts of different music from car radios, and snatches of conversation from passersby. They have no idea that the box lying on the grate in the little enclosure they pass contains a live body. Tonight will be my second night.

Last night was freezing, and one of my legs kept going int cramps. I had to get up before dawn to go for a jog around the area to keep warm, but today I bought some thermal socks and found a large nylon quilt in some rubbish and a cushion with a painted scene from the kama sutra of a courtly Indian man and woman copulating, so tonight I’ll be warmer and more comfortable.

“Seek and ye shall find.”

The box is big and wide, as long as me. I think it must have contained a mattress or something. I found it on someone’s doorstep next to the bins and lugged it to my sleeping area. It closes over me like a coffin, and keeps out the wind and rain.

I came to Camden because someone mailed me yesterday saying that there was a squat there that might take me, so I took the train from Luton. Unfortunately the squat was full and I could find no room at the inns in Camden, but luckily everything came together with the discovery of the box and the hiding place. I also bought a little packet of Black Mamba and have had a few smokes, some of which have had a result similar to the Michael Jackson haunting experience, with me hurled around in a sure and intricate dance routine down a back alleyway where I went to shelter from heavy rain on Saturday, but more positive and uplifting than the experience in Istanbul.

I set up my rune circle on a doorstep in Camden Lock today, Sunday, but although hundreds of people walked past I only had one customer, who gave me a pound. Another guy gave me a pound just to take my picture, but being a religious Jew, said he didn’t want to consult the runes. We had a longish chat about religion, Israel, and capitalism. I ate a good lunch from the thrown away remains in the bins I found around the food stalls in Camden Lock – rice, noodles, chips, salad, and sweet and sour chicken.

“Ask and it shall be given ye.”

A couple of days ago I decided I really wanted a black balaclava to protect my ears, head and face from cold weather. I wondered where I might buy one cheap. No need. This afternoon I saw a pıle of rubbish in the front garden of an empty house. Rummaging around, I came across my black balaclava in perfect condition, although soaking. It’s now drying on the grill outside my box. I also found an almost new pair of suede shoes my size, a pair of black gloves with a raised white skeleton pattern of the hands and fingers, a witch’s hat, and a sign with skulls and crossbones bearing the legend: ‘CAUTION! HAUNTED!’ which I have left outside my box while I’m away as a warning to any intruder.

I also found a nearly full bottle of red wine, of which I will have a few sips before retiring tonight.

I’ll stay here for a while I think before going to investigate the squat in the East End. Apart from the cold, I’m feeling much freer and happier than of late.

Scrimping all the way!

Sales send profits zinging,
Making bankers rich,
Money rules the World,
Oh isn’t life a bitch?

CHORUS
Jingle cash, jingle cash….

I wrote it this morning. Sang it outside Sainsbury’s on the way to this coffee shop and got applause and someone gave me a quid! I’m now going out to sing it at a few more places

This Christmas Day morning while walking in the street after leaving my cardboard box home, I was passing St Michael’s Church in Camden Town, when I suddenly felt the urge to go in. The Christmas sevice had begun and was in progress. The congregation wasn’t very big. There were a few vergers/assistants waiting near the entrance. My eye was suddenly caught by the Nativity Scene set up with the statues of Mary and Joseph, the Three Kings, the shepherds and the barn animals, grouped round the statue of the infant Jesus lying in the manger. I reached down and picked Jesus up (big as a teddy bear) and made my way to the exit.

Suddenly I was grabbed by an elderly female assistant who demanded “Give it back!” “No,” said I, trying to pull away. Three other assistants, including a vicar, grabbed the child and there was a tug of war, before I finally let go of my prize and left the church. I laughed hysterically at my outrageous act; which had completely taken me by surprise.

On the way to the Crisis Centre for homeless people at Kingsway College near King’s Cross for Christmas lunch I came across another church – St Pancras. I had a look in. The service had finished and there were only a couple of people in the church. There was another Nativity Scene in an alcove with much smaller statues. I picked the cute little baby out of the manger, put him in my pocket, and exited, feeling as though I had symbolically rescued Jesus from the clutches of the Church. Tonight he’ll be with me in my box, and where we go thereafter, God alone knows.

Michael Dickinson can be contacted through his website.

 

More articles by:

Michael Dickinson can be contacted at michaelyabanji@gmail.com.

June 03, 2020
Anthony DiMaggio
Revolution, Not Riots: Prospects for Radical Transformation in the Covid-19 Era
Jennifer Loewenstein
From Mississippi to Minneapolis: Leaving the ‘Abyss of Despair’
Kenneth Surin
The UK Compared With Other Countries on the Pandemic
Paul Street
“Total Domination”: Popular Rebellion in the Shadow of Trumpism-Fascism
Kenn Orphan
The Sadism of American Power
John Pilger
The Coup Against ‘The Most Loyal Ally’
Eric Murphy
The Police Are The Out-Of-Towners Provoking Violence
Melvin Goodman
How the Washington Post Accommodates Disinformation
Rev. William Alberts
It’s the Worshippers Who Are “Essential”
Georgina Downs
No, the Public Fury Will Not “Move On” Prime Minister!
George V. Wright
It is Happening Here
M. G. Piety
Tales from the Dark Side of Customer Service, or “Christians” Giving Christians a Bad Name
Chandra Muzaffar
A Superpower in Chaos
Thomas Knapp
Time to Stop Messing Around and Strike at the Root of Police Violence
Thomas M. Hanna
The Oligopoly That Controls Our Digital Infrastructure Has Deepened Economic and Racial Divides
Andrew Stewart
The Ethics of Police Murder Video Exhibition: Democratizing The News Feed, Re-Traumatizing The Survivors, Or Both?
Binoy Kampmark
Death, Protest and George Floyd
David Rovics
Who’s Trashing Downtown Every Night and Why?
Harvey Wasserman
Trump Is No Accident
Behrooz Ghamari Tabrizi
Biden and the Common Sense Voter
Timothy Ingalsbee
Ecosystems, Logging and the Definition of Insanity
Elliot Sperber
The Birds of Brooklyn
June 02, 2020
Zoltan Grossman
Deploying Federal Troops in a War at Home Would Make a Bad Situation Worse
Nicholas Buccola
Amy Cooper is Christian Cooper’s Lost, Younger Sister 
Manuel García, Jr.
Global Warming is Nuclear War
Patrick Cockburn
An Unavoidable Recognition of Failure: Trump’s Withdrawal From Afghanistan
John Feffer
Is It Time to Boycott the USA?
Kathy Kelly
Beating Swords to Plowshares
Lawrence Davidson
U.S. Urban Riots Revisited
Sam Pizzigati
“Failed State” Status Here We Come
Ron Jacobs
In Defense of Antifa
Cesar Chelala
Bolsonaro and Trump: Separated at Birth
George Wuerthner
The BLM’s License to Destroy Sagebrush Ecosystems
Danny Antonelli
The Absurdity of Hope
Binoy Kampmark
Sinister Flatulence: Trump Versus Twitter
John Stanton
How Much Violence and Destruction is Enough for Depraved American Leaders and Their Subjects?
Richard C. Gross
The Enemy Within
Thomas Knapp
Trump’s “Free Speech:” Doctrine: Never, Ever, Ever Mention He’s a Liar
John W. Whitehead
This Is Not a Revolution. It’s a Blueprint for Locking Down the Nation
June 01, 2020
Joshua Frank
It’s a Class War Now Too
Richard D. Wolff
Why the Neoliberal Agenda is a Failure at Fighting Coronavirus
Henry Giroux
Racial Domestic Terrorism and the Legacy of State Violence
Ron Jacobs
The Second Longest War in the United States
Kanishka Chowdhury
The Return of the “Outside Agitator”
Lee Hall
“You Loot; We Shoot”
FacebookTwitterRedditEmail