ANARCHOPHY When I was 12 I was angry and bored Found music by Green Day and Faith No More It was different than other stuff hitherto heard But the difference could not yet be put into words Skip forward a year, 1995 A new album by Green Day comes into my life I’m told “this is punk” and I dye my hair green As I fumble my way into this revivified scene Believe it or not it was on MTV That I first saw a band called Dead Kennedys Jello sang “Life Sentence” and my mind was blown On Alternative Nation these first seeds were sown I headed to Tempest and purchased a tape: Give Me Convenience or Give Me Death my catalyst of fate At first listen I wanted to take the thing back! Not as tuneful as Green Day, I thought it was crap! But the guy back at Tempest flat out said “no” Said to “give it a chance”, said “let the sound grow” And I already knew that the bastard was right I’d been humming California Uber Alles all fucking night! And the noise soon endeared the more that I’d hear Graduating from Green Day I developed an ear But the more that I listened the more questions I had: Who were Reagan and Thatcher? Were they really this bad? I caught up with the 80s in protest and rage Ignorant to the incidents on which lyrics were based Time to pick up a paper and read a few books Look deep into places I had not before looked The Cold War, The Contras, Zinn, Pilger and Chomsky My political awakening soundtracked by fast punk beats Freedom of style Freedom of thought Anarchist philosophies go from is to ought This is the world It ought not to be A better way is possible You’re not gonna stop me Caught up to the 90s, new faces same villains New modern excuses for old imperialist killings It started with Dead Kennedys, it still hasn’t ended Music and politics will forever be blended The reading went on, from Sixth Form to Uni I studied Politics alongside Philosophy I now knew the players, I wanted the theories The justification for a world so damn dreary A nightmare so sickening and getting worse yearly All while our leaders tell us we have to be cheery I wanted to see why it was nothing changed How identified problems continued to reign And as the world progressed backwards and repressed ever faster I accumulated degrees — first my bachelors then a masters Through dissertation and thesis I sought for solution A social and intellectual revolution And yes, I delighted in the irony When I secured government funding for my PhD About anarchism as the only power structure that’s legitimate A hundred thousand words and I think that I proved it But what was the use of these writings on power When locked in the basement of some old ivory tower? I’d speak at a conference, argue with academics, Who’d roll jaded eyes at my youthful polemics Less interested in life than in words and their meaning Reducing discussion to mere linguistic preening I wanted the world to be changed by ideas But it won’t ever happen if nobody hears I thought of those records that started my path And I left academia. I didn’t look back. Freedom of style Freedom of thought Anarchist philosophies go from is to ought This is the world It ought not to be A better way is possible You’re not gonna stop me Through all the years I kept all these notes Poetry and prose for found and lost hope It began as a kid in my ongoing journal Poems and lyrics to make thoughts eternal Diaries and blogs, novels and music If I don’t jot it down I’m terrified I’d lose it Embalming my thoughts: each sentence a snapshot Some moments to be shared; some moments — perhaps not But all of them part of an ongoing journey Of trying to solve all the things that concern me Political, personal, ancient or new In writing I’m trying to unlock the truth Been putting them in songs since Green Day’s “Insomniac” I put down the guitar now and then but I keep coming back Sometimes it’s punk rock, sometimes it’s hip-hop What’s clear to me now is it’s not going to stop So what is ANARCHOPHY? What does it mean? This mixture of anarchy and philosophy? To me it means freedom and an enquiring mind Poking at pulling all of the lies that bind Analysing even the most sacred cow Speaking the thoughts they try not to allow Questioning structures of authority Calling bullshit on bullshit when bullshit I see It’s a name for the thoughts I can’t not put in rhyme All those burning questions I’ve asked for a very long time It’s a 12 year old boy listening loudly to punk It’s a PhD thesis that still no-one’s debunked It’s having a voice and deciding to use it It’s demanding the impossible all set to good music Freedom of style Freedom of thought Anarchist philosophies go from is to ought This is the world It ought not to be A better way is possible You’re not gonna stop me