As we sit here scratching our heads in bewilderment at the fact that we managed to make ten of these ridiculous fucking things, when we never even knew if #rabble1 would get past our late-night, round-table, mashbag discussions, this fucking madhouse of a country becomes increasingly unpredictable, leaving us to wonder if, just maybe, it is all still to play for…
Shit’s gone wonky, there’s no doubt. Chunks of land, public services and marginalised people, even work and public transport are packaged off to slimy twenty-headed hydras in heat, looking to hump anything that smells remotely like a “business investment”.
Meanwhile, private construction workers, under protection of our national police force, are being marched out of communities and neighbourhoods nationwide to chants of, “You can shove your water meters up your arse!”.
Empty buildings in the portfolios of property speculators and NAMA are being occupied at a very exciting rate. The nation is about to vote on equal marriage and fundamentalist weirdos and the decrepit Catholic right gasp in fear as the shadowy grip they had on the psyche of the nation withers away.
Workers from fucked over Dunnes staff to Dublin bus are on increasingly political strikes, with support from all corners. Music seems to be heading back underground too, with of interesting new venues, events and collectives organising shindigs in every corner of the country, legal and otherwise.
Everyone hates Penis O’ Brien. Everyone hates the cops. Nobody trusts the government. Nobody has any money. The curious sense of community and movement being born from this has certainly piqued our interest. And all of this, ladies, gentlemen and otherwise, is why we’re still at it.Here
Back in 2011 we saw a country in the shit, with disparate groups of angry and unhappy people at a loss as to what to do about their situations. Nowadays it looks as if they’re slowly but surely figuring things out, and realising that even though it’s lurching dangerously astarboard and taking on water faster than you can say “Siteserv”, we’re all in the same boat.
The small part that rabble plays in the change of attitude from “boo hoo” to “fuck you”, we reckon, is well worth the stress, deadline mania, lack of social life and (literally) last minute proof reading that goes on every time we try to give birth to this monstrosity.
So take so take a bundle and order a swag bag, get this out to your mates, leave it in school or put it in the jax of your local, then go out and join in the fun. Maybe the last hundred years have just been a bit of a breather after all…