Building Britain's Future was a policy initiative launched in 2009 by the then British Prime Minister, Gordon Brown. It was his government's "radical vision for a fairer, stronger and more prosperous society". One of its goals was to invest in affordable housing of the sort being implemented by the Newlon Housing Trust. This "not for profit" association is developing 537 homes in Tottenham Hale, a district in the London Borough of Haringey. A large billboard at the building site on Ferry Lane advertises this fact. On it is the Building Britain's Future logo. Directly opposite this sign are bunches of flowers tied to a railing. It was here on Thursday 4th August 2011 that a police officer shot and killed Mark Duggan, a 29-year-old resident of Tottenham's Broadwater Farm estate. It was his death that sparked off riots across London and in other parts of England. The destruction and despair wrought by this sustained violence represents an enormous setback for all attempts to build Britain's future. The riots have not only caused physical damage. The international image of London (and with it Britain) has been tarnished by the media attention given to the aftermath of Mark Duggan's shooting exactly 27 miles from Stansted Airport. Who was Mark Duggan? A loving father of four who had maintained a relationship with his childhood sweetheart from the age of 17? Or a drug-dealing gangster who carried a gun following the murder of his cousin last year? Whoever he was, he has attained posthumous fame. The site of his death has become a spontaneous shrine, a temporary memorial and a "fatal attraction". I chose to visit the spot on the day of his funeral. The flowers were dead or dying. The messages have become indistinct. Rubbish had begun to accumulate. Most revealing is the floral tribute that probably originally read: "N17". This is presumably intended to signify the postcode of the Broadwater Farm estate where Duggan was born and grew up. The number "7" has been damaged. Was this caused by thoughtless vandalism or a deliberate act? If it was the latter, it would imply that the perpetrator was a member of a rival gang and that the floral tribute was no innocent sign of remembrance but a token of an endemic turf war. Soon the flowers and other items will be cleared away - and with it the memory of Mark Duggan. Will a plaque be erected there one day? A statue to the fallen "martyr"? A memorial to the riots of 2011? No. Instead it will all be forgotten. What occurred on that spot will be erased, just like the vast majority of lifestories. But traces of the past will remain - such as this blog posting. It has been motivated by the belief that we need to remember Mark Duggan and what he stood for. In doing so we will be forced to ask some difficult and distasteful questions. Many would, however, much prefer it if we could just sweep him aside as easily as removing the flowers on Ferry Lane. But if we do that we will have learnt nothing from the violence that erupted in the summer of 2011. Our ignorance and forgetfulness will mean that the same things will happen again and again. For it should be recalled that Duggan was three years old when the Broadwater Farm riot of 1985 broke out. His own children are also growing up under the shadow of violence and disorder. If we choose to forget Mark Duggan then his death will count for nothing except despair. The little boy with a paper crown that I spotted on Ferry Lane deserves so much more. It is our duty to see that he grows up in a Britain with a future. Square in Stockholm dedicated to Wallenberg Today's issue of the Swedish newspaper, Dagens Nyheter features an article entitled, "Humans are like parasites" (Björling 2011). This interesting idea is derived from a statement made by the American artist Andrea Zittel at the opening of a new exhibition of her work. Zittel's view on human behaviour resonated with an item on the previous page of the same newspaper (Söderling 2011). This concerned a dispute between two historians. One is Ulf Zander, the person with whom I collaborated on the article, "Preoccupied by the Past – The Case of Estonia's Museum of Occupations" (Burch & Zander 2008). The other is Tanja Schult. She attended a seminar I gave at Stockholm University earlier this year. After my talk she kindly gave me a copy of her book, A Hero's Many Faces: Raoul Wallenberg in Contemporary Monuments (Schult 2009). It is the existence of this publication that has given rise to claims of plagiarism. Zander stands accused of incorporating translated extracts into his own book, Hjälten: Raoul Wallenberg inför eftervärlden (Zander 2010). A panel responsible for investigating such cases has previously rejected this claim; but now the publisher of Zander's book has decided to withdraw it from sale. Zander plans to reissue an amended version of his book under a new title. He dismisses the plagiarism claim, arguing that the extracts in question concern widely known facts rather than specifically attributable ideas. He also points out that Schult is mentioned both in his introduction and conclusion as well as being listed in the references. (One might add that a similar acknowledgement was not reciprocated in an extended article that Schult (2010) had published in the newspaper, Svenska Dagbladet.) This affair is regrettable, not least because Zander and Schult were originally professional colleagues. Their partnership ended in acrimony, leading Zander to publish Hjälten (The Hero) on his own. Of wider interest is the sense in which this wrangle threatens to overshadow the importance of their research. Raoul Wallenberg's actions during the Second World War saved many Jews from the Holocaust. The commemoration of Wallenberg is therefore not only morally necessary, but also an excellent case to study from a public history perspective. Both Zander and Schult have done much to promote this cause and improve our understanding of the struggle for "ownership" of historical events and personalities. Such legacies of the past are negotiated and contested in the politics of the present. Ironically enough, there can be no better demonstration of this fact that the unfortunate conflict between the academics, Ulf Zander and Tanja Schult. _________ References Björling, Sanna Torén (2011) "Människor är som parasiter", Dagens Nyheter, 08/09, Kultur, p.3 Burch, Stuart & Ulf Zander (2008) "Preoccupied by the Past – The Case of Estonia's Museum of Occupations", Scandia: Tidskrift för Historisk Forskning, Vol. 74 (2), pp. 53-73 Schult, Tanja (2009) A Hero's Many Faces: Raoul Wallenberg in Contemporary Monuments, Palgrave Macmillan Schult, Tanja (2010) "Monument med mänskliga proportioner", Svenska Dagbladet, 27/01, accessed 08/09/2011 at, http://www.svd.se/kultur/understrecket/monument-med-manskliga-proportioner_4157797.svd Söderling, Fredrik (2011) "Känd historiker anklagad för fusk", Dagens Nyheter, 08/09, Kultur, p.2 Zander, Ulf (2010) Hjälten: Raoul Wallenberg inför eftervärlden, Forum för levande historia The sculptor, Gustav Kraitz designed the memorial Hope (1998) on Raoul Wallenberg Walk adjacent to the United Nations building in New York. It features a bronze copy of Wallenberg's briefcase. This element is sited in other locations, including the Beth Shalom centre in Nottinghamshire (below). Our urban landscapes are saturated with symbolic meaning to such an extent that even a humdrum pedestrian crossing can become a significant place marker. This is the way with all street furniture. Yet their banal presence and utilitarian function effectively masks their potential meaningfulness. This is arguably the case with the subject of this blog posting: a bus-stop in the unremarkable town of Royal Tunbridge Wells in the south east of England. Hovering over the waiting passengers is a bronze bayoneted rifle held in the iron grip of a soldier statue. This is the work of the sculptor, Stanley Nicholson Babb FRBS (c.1873-1957) and dates from 1922. It forms the centrepiece of a memorial to the First and Second World Wars. It in turn provides a name and a geographical anchor for the bus-stops that traverse the street in front. They are: War Memorial. Questions Do many travellers reflect on this fact or cast an eye up to the ever-present soldier? Of those that do, how many look at the panels listing the dead? As they read the names, do they concur with the sentiments inscribed beneath the bronze feet of the statue: OUR GLORIOUS DEAD? This token of death seeps into the hurly-burly of the living. Those that fought and died so many years ago still exist, but they have taken on new forms: metamorphosed into stone and bronze; transfigured into bus-stops; inscribed into bus timetables. ___________
Supplemental I have since discovered that, following a recommendation from English Heritage, the memorial has been granted Grade II listed status (BBC 2011). This should afford it some protection - something that might be necessary if plans go ahead to redevelop the civic centre complex (Pudelek 2011). BBC (2011) "Tunbridge Wells war memorial given listed status", BBC News, 16/07, accessed 08/09/2011 at, http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-kent-14173615 Pudelek, Jenna (2011) "Tunbridge Wells War Memorial achieves listed status", KOS Media, 16/07, accessed 08/09/2011 at, http://www.kentnews.co.uk/news/tunbridge_wells_war_memorial_achieves_listed_status_1_970474 The wing-tip of the aircraft blazes in the dying light of the setting sun. Night is falling. The day is drawing to a close and with it my time in Scandinavia. In an effort to repress this deeply depressing thought I reached for the in-flight magazine. Only then did I realize that I was racing through the skies in a flying memorial. This was not an intuition that the plane was going to crash. It was instead based on an article entitled, "Norwegian's tail icons" (Blågestad 2011). The low-cost airline, Norwegian has opted to dedicate each of its aircraft to "famous Scandinavians". Their faces appear on the empennage (i.e. the fin or tail of an aeroplane). The list includes Roald Amundsen (1872-1928) – a memorial to whom has featured in an earlier blog posting. His entry in the in-flight magazine notes that he was "one of the greatest polar explorers of all time. The Norwegian explorer was the first person to reach both the North and South Poles" (Blågestad 2011: 110). One person missing from this roll call of famous Scandinavians is Dénis Lindbohm (1927-2005). You've probably never heard of this Swedish science fiction writer. But he features in my own personal canon of famous Scandinavians. Lindbohm would be a doubly-appropriate candidate for a flying memorial given that he wrote Bevingaren (The Wing-Giver). It tells the tale of John. One day whilst out walking in the forest he comes across what looks like a crater left by a falling meteorite. Closer inspection reveals it to be filled with pristine, ice-cold water. Stooping down he drinks from this unearthly spring – and soon realises this fissure was formed by no shooting star. It was caused by a crash-landing spaceship. The watery remains of its unfortunate pilot enter into symbiosis with John. It teaches him things that will change not only John's life but that of everyone on the planet. For this parasitic extraterrestrial is, quite literally, The Wing-Giver. John becomes the first of a new species of para-humans. He hides this fact until the day comes when he climbs to the top of a mountain, unfolds his wings, leans ever further over the edge... "Then gave out a sudden cry, an exultant and almost wild laugh, and flung himself forwards, upwards, straight into the wind, beating down with his wings. And flew. "The ground fell away as he ascended like an express elevator... He climbed like a kite in the wind. The treetops and then the whole landscape disappeared beneath. He couldn't stop laughing in furious jubilation. He literally threw himself upwards into the blue, blue atmosphere" (Lindbohm 1980: 44). _________ References Blågestad, Nina (2011) "Norwegian's tail icons", Norwegian in-flight magazine, no. 4, pp. 108-111 Lindbohm, Dénis (1980) Bevingaren, Vänersborg _________ Supplemental, 02/09/2011 A flying memorial of a different and far more tragic kind took place today. The Royal Air Force Aerobatic Team - more familiarly known as "the Red Arrows" - conducted a ceremonial flypast in the skies over Chatsworth House Country Fair in Derbyshire and at a RAF Linton-on-Ouse in North Yorkshire. Both events were dedicated to the memory of Flight Lieutenant Jon Egging. He suffered fatal injuries when his aeroplane crashed during a public event that took place near Bournemouth Airport on 20th August. _________ Supplemental, 23/09/2011 The BBC reports that Flt Lt Jon Egging is to be honoured with a permanent memorial located near the scene of his fatal accident. See Anon (2011) "A Red Arrows pilot Jon Egging memorial for Bournemouth", BBC News, 22/09 accessed 23/09/2011 at, http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-dorset-15012137. The Peace Monument, Karlstad (23/09/2005) The Guardian newspaper has published a selection of the "UK's best sculptures of women". Its compiler, Laura Barton, enthuses that the "UK is alive with beautiful sculptures of women" (Barton 2011). Alas, her sweet selection of lovely ladies confirms observations made years ago by the likes of Janet Monk (1992) and Marina Warner (1987). They point out that our streets and squares are swamped with statues of men but hardly any women. Yes, the latter do appear, but almost always as abstract, moralising symbols which, according to Marina Warner, "hardly ever interact with real, individual women" (Warner 1987: 28). With this in mind, Barton ought to have sought out real women who have distinguished themselves by their beautiful achievements rather than their beautiful breasts. Candidates might include the Emmeline Pankhurst memorial near the Houses of Parliament (Arthur George Walker, 1930). Or how about Mark Quinn's Alison Lapper Pregnant that once graced Trafalgar Square's "Fourth plinth" (Burch 2009)? One positive outcome of The Guardian's bevy of beauties is the reactions of some online readers. They have used the list to promote statues of "missing" women. A case in point is crittero, who laments the lack of a public monument to Mary Wollstonecraft "'founder' of women's movement". Meanwhile, MissB1983 has provided a link to a very interesting article concerning "Women's erasure from women's memorials" (Dougherty 2011). _________ References Barton, Laura (2011) "Female forms", The Guardian, 25/08, accessed 27/08/2011 at, http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2011/aug/25/female-uk-sculptures-women Burch, Stuart (2009) "Trafalgar Square: a public lecture", 09/08, talk given on Trafalgar Square's "fourth plinth" as part of Antony Gormley's One & Other (6th July - 14th October 2009). Transcript of talk. Dougherty, Carolyn (2011) "Women's erasure from women's memorials", 16/06, the f word, accessed 27/08/2011 at, http://www.thefword.org.uk/features/2011/06/womens_erasure_monuments Monk, Janice (1992) "Gender in the landscape: expressions of power and meaning", in Kay Anderson and Fay Gale (eds.), Inventing Places: Studies in Cultural Geography, Melbourne, Longman Cheshire, 1992, pp. 123-138 Warner, Marina (1987) Monuments and Maidens. The Allegory of the Female Form, London, Pan Books State Museum, Majdanek near Lublin, 13/11/2008 Tourism takes many forms. One variety goes by such names as dark, disaster or grief tourism. In addition, "Thanatos" - the Greek word for death - has given rise to the concept of thanatourism (Seaton 1996). This has led to an extensive itinerary of "fatal attractions" (Rojek 1999) for "tombstone tourists" to visit (see e.g. Stanton 2003). The motivations for taking such journeys vary. Travelling to a site of genocide is, for many, a pilgrimage - part of a duty of remembrance and a hope that we might learn from the past to avoid making the same mistakes in the present. Others, however, visit places of death for reasons that are far more prurient. Some people gain positive pleasure and excited curiosity from the pain and suffering of others. Steps therefore need to be taken to discourage this from happening: to prevent "black spots" (Rojek 1999) of the wrong sort from appearing on the tourist map (1). This explains the decision by Gloucester City Council to purchase a house - and immediately demolish it. The property in question - 25 Cromwell Street - was once the home of Frederick and Rosemary West. They killed women and girls there and hid the bodies around the house and in the garden. The local council saw to it that everything connected with this place of murder was ground to dust. The site was then covered in concrete. These steps were taken in order to stop the relics becoming grisly commodities to be bought and sold by collectors of the macabre (Moyes 1996). I was reminded of this after reading that the cellar of Josef Fritzl's house is to be pumped with concrete. This should ensure that the place where his daughter was imprisoned can never again be entered. It seems, however, that no decision has been reached regarding the house, which still stands in the Lower Austrian town of Amstetten (AP 2011). The decision to entomb the Fritzls' cellar might not prevent it from being reopened in the future. Years from now public attitudes could allow it to be carefully restored and made accessible to curious tourists. There is a precedent for this, albeit one that has absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with dark tourism: Eidsvoll is a famous tourist attraction in Norway due to its connection with the drawing up of the Norwegian constitution in 1814. In the latter part of the 19th century the cellar of the building was destroyed. It is now being restored ("recreated" might be a better word) in time for the bicentenary of 2014. Some have condemned this decision, arguing that the construction of a "fake" cellar will turn Eidsvoll into "democracy's Disneyland" (Engen 2011). Norway, of course, is currently trying to come to terms with the terrorist attacks of 22 July that left 77 people dead. The sites of these killings plus all manner of places associated with the terrorist responsible provide fertile ground for dark tourism. For a final reflection on some of these issues, let's mentally return to Fritzl's cellar. The decision to fill it with concrete is counterproductive. Its transformation has turned it in to an artwork akin to Rachel Whiteread's House (1993). This now-demolished project centred on 193 Grove Road, a regular end-of-terrace Victorian-era house in the East London borough of Tower Hamlets. Whiteread filled the interior with flowcrete. The bricks and roof were then painstakingly removed to reveal the uncanny inside-out home. Even closer to the Fritzl "readymade" is Harald Persson's Nedgrävning (Burial). This was the name given to an art project carried out in November 1994. The Swedish artist dug a hole in Picasso Park in Halmstad and buried a white, one metre cubed block of concrete. This event was largely forgotten, until a couple of years ago when it was included in an art guide to the town. Tourists can now visit the site... and see nothing at all. This is probably exactly what happens at the now-vanished 25 Cromwell Street in Gloucester and the sealed-up cellar of the Fritzl house in Amstetten. _________ (1) This raises some vexing questions. Is it possible to distinguish between "good" and "bad" dark tourism? What is the "wrong" sort of dark tourist or the "wrong" sort of "black spot"? Or is appropriateness determined by the motivations of the visitor and the nature of the interpretation? If so, can anything become a visitor attraction? _________ References AP (2011) "Josef Fritzl basement to be filled with concrete", Associated Press, 12/08, accessed 26/08/2011 at, http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2011/aug/12/fritzl-basement-filled-concrete Engen, Øyvind Bosnes (2011) "Falsk historie om 1814", Romerikes Blad, 18/05, accessed 26/08/2011 at, http://www.rb.no/lokal_kultur/article5611181.ece Lingwood, James (ed.) (1995) House, London: Phaidon Moyes, Jojo (1996) "Fred West house to be demolished", Independent, 05/10, accessed 26/08/2011 at, http://www.independent.co.uk/news/fred-west-house-to-be-demolished-1356745.html Persson, Harald (1994/2011) Nedgrävning. Fotografisk documentation (photographs by Joacim Bengtsson), Stockholm Rojek, Chris (1999) "Fatal Attractions" in Boswell, D. and Evans, J. (eds.) Representing the Nation: Histories, Heritage and Museums, London: Routledge, pp. 185-207 Seaton, A.V. (1996) "Guided by the dark: from thanatopsis to thanatourism", International Journal of Heritage Studies, Vol. 2, No. 4, pp. 234-244 Stanton Scott (2003) The Tombstone Tourist: Musicians, New York: Pocket Books Question: What would be the most appropriate way to signal the end of a 42-year dictatorship? Answer: By targeting those symbols most closely associated with the regime. This is exactly what has occurred in Colonel Muammar Gaddafi's compound in the Libyan capital, Tripoli. Its walls have been breached and its defences overrun. And the dictator's decapitated head lolls beneath the feet of jubilant rebel fighters. But this is not the real thing. It's a golden substitute, hacked from the body of an idolatrous statue. Once the symbol of a despot's supremacy, this obscene portrait is now a simple full stop: the final, clinching proof that the tyrant's rule is over. ___________
Supplemental 20/10/2011 Events have now reached their inevitable, bloody conclusion. Colonel Gaddafi never did face justice - just the butts of rifles and the barrel of the gun that appears to have ended his life. Yet "[k]illing him is not enough", insists Alaa al-Ameri writing in the Guardian: We have to forget him. To do that we have to expunge his influence from every aspect of our lives. Only then can we be free of him.(1) The idea of Gaddafi being utterly erased seems remote, not least given the grisly appeal of death and disaster tourism.(2) And would it be sensible to totally forget this monster? Surely the best way of safeguarding against some future Gaddafi would be to remember the terror and despair that he brought both to the people of Libya and to the citizens of other countries, not least the United Kingdom and the United States. Moreover, we would be wise to remember the cancerous influence he exerted on foreign powers - as exemplified by the actions of the former British premier, Tony Blair.(3) The people of Libya can be forgiven for wishing to forget Gaddafi. But the people of Britain would do well to keep him in mind. ____ Notes (1) al-Ameri, Alaa (2011) "Gaddafi is dead. We must now forget him", The Guardian, 20/10, accessed 20/10/2011 at, http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2011/oct/20/gaddafi-dead-libya (2) See my blog posting, "Sites of sickening sights", 26/08/2011. (3) Brady, Brian (2011) "Evidence grows of Blair's links with Gaddafi", The Independent, 18/09, accessed 20/10/2011 at, http://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/politics/evidence-grows-of-blairs-links-with-gaddafi-2356576.html. "One could not learn history from architecture any more than one could learn it from books. Statues, inscriptions, memorial stones, the names of streets – anything that might throw light upon the past had been systematically altered." George Orwell, Nineteen Eighty-Four (orig. pub. 1949), Penguin, 1969, p. 82 Objects do not have an inherent value or significance. Instead, it is people - individuals and societies - that attach meaning and importance to things. As a consequence, anything can become special. Even an old scrap of paper. Proof of this can be found by clicking on the image to the left. In normal circumstances it would be quite unremarkable, simply a record of how much someone paid for a meal onboard a ship. However, the fact that it forms a link with one of the worst shipping disasters of the 20th century makes it very special. Indeed, it is so special that it could be preserved in a museum like Sjöhistoriska museet (Sweden's national Maritime Museum). This institution possesses a number of objects relating to the MS Estonia. This was the name of the ship that left the Estonian capital, Tallinn on 27th September 1994. Shortly after midnight of the following day it sank in the Baltic Sea resulting in the deaths of an estimated 852 passengers and crew. Just over a year before that disaster my father-in-law was a passenger on that very same ship. At some point after it sank he came across his old receipt. He hadn't meant to keep it. He had simply forgotten to throw it away. If he had rediscovered it on, say, 26th September 1994 he might well have tossed it onto the recycling pile. Now he treasures it as a memorial of the disaster and as a reminder of how uncomfortably close he came to being a part of it. Who knows, perhaps one day he might donate it to Sweden's Maritime Museum? If he does decide to do this it will be preserved by archivists and curators with the same care as that devoted to a rare mediaeval manuscript or a priceless painting. This is because the receipt forms an intimate link to a moment of history. This mundane little thing is something to which we can all relate. It is therefore far more effective than the large stone monuments that have been erected to commemorate the disaster. It's a tiny, fragile paper memorial to all those people who had the misfortune to travel on the MS Estonia just under one year and two months after my dear father-in-law. Today - 19th August - is Afghan Independence Day. This marks the signing of the Treaty of Rawalpindi of 1919, an event which signalled the end of British control over Afghanistan. In happier times such an occasion might be a trigger for celebration and rapprochement. Alas, today's anniversary is a literal trigger. Militants have stormed the offices of the British Council in Kabul. The timing of the attack was deliberate: Taliban spokesmen made the link between their murderous assault and the events of nearly 100 years ago. Commemorative events reveal more about the present than they do the past. For proof of this we can look to the year 2019. How will the centenary of Afghan independence be marked? Will it feature musical performances and history assignments written by Afghan schoolgirls? If so, it will be apparent that at least some of the goals of the Western forces have been met. If not, it will probably be because the Taliban have resumed full control. They too will no doubt mark the centenary, but in a manner that will accord with their norms. We can at least take one positive thing from all this: history matters. For as soon as we begin to explore the past we start to address the issues of the present. That both are equally contested is bloodily apparent to the people of Afghanistan and the soldiers that are waging a war in their midst. ___________ Supplemental Listening to the news broadcasts on BBC Radio 4 this morning (20/08/2011) brought home to me just how important anniversaries are when it comes to framing present-day events. Three of the top news stories were given temporal, commemorative frames:
Fredrik Reinfeldt, Norrmalmstorg, 15/08/2011 Norrmalmstorg is the name of a square in central Stockholm. In the early 1990s it was the site of popular gatherings in support of independence for the three Baltic States (then under Soviet rule). These demonstrations occurred every Monday at 12 o'clock. A total of 79 such events took place between 19 March 1990 and 16 September 1991. Two decades later - at 12 o'clock on Monday 15 August 2011 - the Swedish Prime Minister plus his counterparts from Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania returned to the square to mark the twentieth anniversary of these so-called "Monday meetings" (måndagsmöten). They, plus other dignitaries and a large crowd of onlookers were invited to "go back in time". Twenty-year-old recordings of Swedish radio reports were broadcast on loudspeakers before Fredrik Reinfeldt was invited to address the gathering. In his speech he rightly celebrated Sweden's role in bringing about and helping to sustain the two decades of freedom and independence enjoyed by the Baltic States. Yet Sweden's current Prime Minister also noted that popular support for Baltic independence was not always shared by the political establishment in Sweden. Reinfeldt illustrated this point by raising aloft a copy of the history book that he used as a schoolboy in the 1980s. He drew attention to the fact that the Baltic States were rarely mentioned and that their fate after the Second World War was completely absent from the text book. The Swedish Prime Minister's speech and the anniversary gathering as a whole is therefore an excellent illustration of how events of the past are forgotten and remembered in school classrooms and in public squares. Similarly, the role of anniversaries and the importance of place are underscored by this return to Norrmalmstorg twenty years on. Speech given by the Swedish Prime Minister, Fredrik Reinfeldt in Norrmalmstorg, Stockholm shortly after 12 o'clock on Monday 15th August 2011 (in Swedish, mp3, 09:18). Speech given by the Latvian Prime Minister, Valdis Dombrovskis (in English, mp3, 03:54). Speech given by the Lithuanian Prime Minister, Andrius Kubilius (in English, mp3, 03:12). Speech given by the Estonian Prime Minister, Andrus Ansip (in Swedish, mp3, 03:45). |
Para, jämsides med.
En annan sort. Dénis Lindbohm, Bevingaren, 1980: 90 Even a parasite like me should be permitted to feed at the banquet of knowledge
I once posted comments as Bevingaren at guardian.co.uk
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Note All parasitoids are parasites, but not all parasites are parasitoids Parasitoid "A parasite that always ultimately destroys its host" (Oxford English Dictionary) I live off you
And you live off me And the whole world Lives off everybody See we gotta be exploited By somebody, by somebody, by somebody X-Ray Spex <I live off you> Germ Free Adolescents 1978 From symbiosis
to parasitism is a short step. The word is now a virus. William Burroughs
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