LD50 – a Gallery of Hate



Earlier today local residents, Anti racism groups and Antifa descended on Dalston East London to shut down an Art Gallery LD50. A gallery that has been hosting Neo Nazi exhibitions, talks by holocaust deniers  and the distribution of Nazi propaganda. Brett Stevens, the white supremacist whose writing was an inspiration to Oslo far-right terrorist Andres Breivik who murdered 77 people in 2011 came to the gallery to LD50’s Neoreaction conference held earlier this year. Stevens stated he was honoured to have influenced the far right terrorist.  The talks hosted here are numerous ,along with the artwork, and all have the same subtext Alt-right and  Fascism.


Up to 300 people marched on the gallery chanting to shut it down and that they would return. A smashed window and some antifa stickers were left as a little message. One Alt right freedom of speech guy and his side kick seemed a little at odds with the majority there. The irony being he was allowed his free speech and then told to fuck off.

No platform for fascists


No-platforming is as valid a means to exercise free speech as any other. We are not in a declining era of free speech – but we appear to be in a golden age of entitled hypocrisy. Let us remember when we speak of “free speech” that those arguments presume everyone’s voice has an equal voice in society.

So the gallery didn’t open today and hopefully it won’t open tomorrow. We will be back

Hampstead Mum





Tonight’s Dinner, & Why I don’t Call Myself a Vegetarian Anymore




A few of my facebook friends are trying hard to change their diets to suit their beliefs, their evolution and become vegetarians. When I stopped eating meat it seemed a big step at the time, back then my reasoning was that I could not justify eating meat and call myself an activist. If I really wanted to see change I could not continue to support the meat industry. Oh I had the cries of “good Butchers, freerange” and even anger that I was causing this upset at meal times, this inconvenience. But it’s not a life style choice it’s a moral decision. With all the reasons that I can list cruelty, climate change, slavery, the reasons I do not eat meat have changed over time. My reasons at this point for not eating meat is I can’t use my privilege and power to take another life when I don’t have to. There are a few types of meat that are farmed for our consumption where there are so many more vegetables and ways of  preparing them and combinations. It can be a veritable feast.

However I have stopped calling myself a vegetarian recently because I have had occasion in the last year where I have eaten meat.  Working in the refugee camps over the last 2 years I have seen meat take on many meanings, protein, celebrations, marriage, and teenagers. When you are cooking in camps for refugees there becomes the occasions that you offered a feast cooked by a family or community that have nothing and have fled war (that’s another story) but come together to share with you and others. I thoroughly enjoyed these occasions because I haven’t stopped eating meat because I didn’t like it. But when it comes to me in this way I once again will not use my privilege to refuse this meal, just because I can go and get food somewhere else whilst they can’t and that means more than I have the words for.

This comes to another point that in third and second world countries meat is not an everyday occurrence and the main part of the diet is vegetables and religions that are vegetarian. That isn’t the case here in the West and some immerging economies where we can and do eat meat maybe 3 times or more a day, processed, antibiotic filled, slaves served to you on your plate and it is my privilege that chooses not to be part of that sick world.

But then there’s road kill, I haven’t decided on that one yet.

Anyway I promised them I was going to give them some pointers not that this is going to become a food blog but I could think of worse things..

A food lover

Janie Mac



Didn’t Hitler Build a Holiday Resort ?


The dates are out, the eviction is to start on the 17th of this month. The Calais jungle is to be permanently evicted. The figures that both sides give are massive in their differences. The official line is there are 6,000 refugees, but at the last census carried out showed over 10,000. The Official line is they have placements for everyone in the camp, holding centres and reception centres, but we all know that this isn’t enough places and we know it takes months for people to be processed. The Official line is there is only 400 lone children in the camp, the reality is there is over 1,000 and 387 of those have proven family in the UK. There are no provisions in place for any of these young vulnerables and if the last eviction is anything to go by were we lost 129 children we will only see this again if not in bigger numbers. The official line is they don’t give a shit about these children.


I have tried to work out why I haven’t been doing my usual ranting about this eviction and I have come to the conclusion I didn’t really believe they would go ahead with it. And I really don’t know what to say. But as the day draws nearer and meetings are being held and contingency plans are being put in place by the volunteers for every eventuality I am starting to feel sick with the realisation we are living in a fascist mind-set that has no humanity at it’s disposal.


The daunting reality can no longer being ignored in just over a week thousands of refugees will once again be displaced, abused and will loose any resemblance of normality they have been able to establish through routines and familiar faces.

“What will they do? ” people keep on asking me. What do you do when your soul is broken and your will is being chipped away bit by bit. When those that are rich enough to build a longer table and feed you all prefer to spend the money on a wall and build it higher. What are they going to do? They are thousands of individual people trying to find a glimmer of hope, to settle down and have a chance at life, to be able to go to school, nip to the shop, to gossip with their neighbours, celebrate births and birthdays.


After the last eviction the grief I felt was crippling and I didn’t go back on to camp for a long time, friends and faces were gone, just gone. If that is how I feel imagine how the residents of the jungle must feel ? but that’s just it I can’t imagine it. As I prepare to leave to go to Calais I know that whatever happens we will be there and I know all the amazing volunteers will try and do the best they can for the residents and give every last ounce. But when we face thousands of CRS, tear gas and machinery the capitalist machine shows itself in all it’s raw greed.  They must clear the blot on the landscape and build a holiday resort and a theme park called Heroic Land. Apart from the volunteers I can’t see anything heroic going on here at all.



What can we do ?

There are plenty of sites on FB with plans, what’s needed, drop off points, collection points etc. In the Refugee community Kitchen it will be business as usual and food will be cooked and distribution points will be set up around the area and continue in the camp. If I were to ask you to do anything it would be to get to Calais and show your support in numbers and show some humanity. That’s what I will be doing, I want history to show that we didn’t all turn our back.

Refugees Welcome

Hampstead Mum









A Eulogy to Tom Palmer

561033_10151454510710384_832561014_nI first met Tom on the Steps of St Pauls. One early morning during the occupations we sat on the steps and we talked of change I don’t think Tom had been to sleep. I have chosen to write a Eulogy and not an obituary for Tom because it is about celebrating his life yet I know Tom’s life was not always a celebration. Tom is well known to the protest scene and wasn’t always a welcome participant as his illness increasingly interfered with his reality. But Tom is exactly the reason we sat on those steps he was a young adult that needed support, his family needed support. This was something that wasn’t being offered in this time of banking crisis and cuts to Mental Health services and the National Health.  His mental health deteriorated in front of us. It had got to the stage that the only time he got to see the services he needed was through contact with the police and the courts. None of us were qualified to deal with the situations that Tom presented us with. But that was part and parcel of Tom, on the other hand Tom was super intelligent and for all his extreme paranoia was astute with his observations of the state. He set up his Anarchesque Boilerplate an alternative news outlet and his writings where insightful and progressive. He was a musician and many a night was serenaded by Tom on his guitar and his lyrics were sharp, current and funny. His poetry and narrative of life was sometime bordering on genius.

We used to joke when we met about how I had blocked him on social media. He didn’t get upset we would laugh about our interactions or should I say his interactions and my ignoring his claims of myself being an agent, which was standard. One evening I got a call off GBC asking me to pass by the James Bond Premier as we had received a phone call about a demonstration there. When I turned up the crowds where flocking around the red carpet to see the stars walk down the red carpet. Then I heard some shouting and there was Tom shouting at the actors walking down the red carpet that James Bond wasn’t an agent that he knew the truth as he was agent KingFisher. The police where watching him as he shouted “Oi Janie Mac tell them, she knows she’s an agent, she runs GBC they are all agents” It was funny but at the same time Tom believed it to be true so therefore it was.

I will leave you with something Tom wrote  HOBO HILTON, Heir Apparant to St Pauls? Evicted on Oct 19th


We have lost a Musician, Artist, Poet, Anarchist, Activist, Victim and fellow Occupier. Someone that could have changed the world.

Love always

Agent Janie Mac

Solidarity Not Charity

Did a little more upcycling today for Streets Kitchen. There is something about Solidarity Not Charity that is just core for me.  Over the last while I have been collecting canvas bags that have come in from the donations and this afternoon decided to have a little spraying session.


These bags will now be used to go out on outreach filled with necessities from the amazing Streets kitchen and the message will start spreading and others may join in. For any information on helping out with Streets Kitchen just click on the link.

All donations welcome and volunteers are always needed.


Solidarity Not Charity

Hampstead Mum


Just an Old Piano Stool

I can’t help it, tatting. I am always picking up shit just in case it is useful. This time it’s an old piano stool I picked up from the side of the road. The craft work in the making of this stool is evident, the turn of the wood is beautiful. To see it chucked out is such a shame. So I up cycled it.

First I gave it a scrub, filled some splits and fixed a board in from an old wine box also tatted.

Then I painted it and looked at it for a while. I had intended to make it into a bedside table but I don’t have room for a bedside table lol.


So I filled it with flowers and some herbs. Only took me a couple of hours from start to finish.


Upcycle, renew, reuse and enjoy.

Hampstead Mum


Hackney Homeless Hunger Fest BBQ

What a rewarding day.


We have a huge homeless population and it is growing. “People that have fallen through the net” they say. I hate to say it but there is no net. Not any more. We are so dysfunctional, too many departments, case workers,  social services, probation,  police and the community care teams that have no common goal, not only from their own doing but from the machine that grinds them down and removes the humanity through red tape and fear.

I am now used to the relentless need to feed refugees, people from countries that have attacked their own people or who been attacked by people from other lands. Those fleeing from droughts caused by climate change and the natural disasters that make land inhabitable. Those fleeing their bankrupt and corrupt systems, fleeing hate and poverty but to have to feed people on the streets in a society that is so rich they have no real excuses just no moral compass.

Today I joined some friends and went to show some solidarity and volunteer my Sunday with Streets Kitchen in Hackney London.

I have always said the only difference between me and a homeless person is the roof over my head and luckily the support of a network that has given the support when needed and I have returned the favours to many. But when you don’t have those for what ever reason that is when the community should step in and this is exactly what Streets Kitchen is creating, a network of support and solidarity. They may not offer long term solutions yet but nobody is professing that that is the aim. They are there to show solidarity and not charity and today was a beautiful example.

Out of the chaos there is order.

We turned up at the warehouse and went down the list ticking things off as we piled them up ready to go in the trollies. Heather had  this to a fine art.

Cups , Tea Urn, Plates, BBQ x3,

Banners – Streets Kitchen /Solidarity not charity

Clothes for the free shop


And so the list went on. Heather (long term volunteer and organiser) was finely tuned into what was going to be needed after having plenty of practice from Streets kitchen outreach. We packed DC’s van and set off via here and there picking up much needed supplies. All whilst on the phone talking Gazeebo’s and ice we approached London Fields.

Open arrival we were met of talk of security and other outreach groups had already cut deals of no political banners, no music, no notice boards, no this, no that. We appeased them with unsaid compromises and the banners stayed under the table for a little.  Volunteers turned up from all walks and the formation of a BBQ and feast appeared in the middle of the park. It was a vision of grass roots solidarity. People that didn’t know each other making quick introductions then getting on with firing up the BBQ, laying out salads, Stacks of soft drinks in ice buckets everything you would want for a good feast.


Slowly one by one the security came to us and told us that we were doing a good thing and we sweet talked them into allowing a generator to start boiling some water to make hot drinks. When offered food they declined humbly as they were fasting and bingo we were all on the same side.

Before long the smell of the BBQ was to much and hard work put in by John (Long term volunteer) paid off and the Hackney Homeless Hunger Fest BBQ was exactly that. Homeless people and volunteers from all over came together and enjoyed good food, good company, laughter, compassion and no judgement.



And to top it off a chance of a haircut and a little boogie to a sound system as long as we didn’t upset the neighbours.



The Political banners came out in the end but in the end the most political act that one can do is to provide food for those with none.


Solidarity not Charity

Hampstead Mum