It's come to this

How long can you torture people? How long can you destroy their lives? At what point do you think that people are going to snap? I cannot condone this, but it was inevitable. Going round my head are the words of Ward Churchill's essay, ""Some people push back" "On the Justice of Roosting Chickens",

"You've got to learn, " the line went, "that when you push people around, some people push back."

This incident's full of ironies. I was awakened the morning after by a phone call.
"Hello"
"So it's not you that was lifted"
"What?"
"Look out your window"
I do so to discover that cars have been burnt up and down the street. I was so full of medication that I slept clean through it. People in Stranmillis and the Ormeau Road heard the explosions. So I can get a nights sleep after all. Just pump yourself full of drugs. They make it all go away. Of course you might sleep through your alarm or the cops sledgehammering their way into your house. They had done just that to someone down the street. The front door was reinforced and resisted their efforts, so they went clean through the front window. It's what they call community policing and a measure of the loathing they have for us. It is increasingly reciprocated. Confront them at three in the morning 48 hours after the "events" and they make it clear that they will come down on us like a ton of bricks. The streets are full of mayhem. They watch it and even film it and make a point of doing nothing.
The papers insist that the wardens have reduced anti-social behaviour by 40%. People have stopped reporting it. They know it's a futile and frustrating exercise. What matters is that the Universities can spin Despair as a Great Victory. It's what they call "Community Relations".
The above pictures show that this is not a happy pleasant place where we all just "get along".
It's not Shangrila. It's a Warzone.

"You're gonna need a locksmith"

Many looked befuddled, constantly repeating the same action over and over again as if it would make a difference. It didn't. The lock was glued shut. All over the Holyland landlords and locksmiths were called out. A house alarm would go off during the repairs and not stop, adding to the frustration. Across the street from me two students tried to burn their way in using a can of deodorant and a cigarette lighter. All they got was a flash in the pan. It only works in the movies. I shouted over,
"You're gonna need a locksmith."
"Nah, we'll burn it out"
They kept trying.
"Just call Declan. He'll come out and drill it for you."
"He won't answer his phone"
He must have been getting calls all day.
"Your best bet's a locksmith."
One has a bright idea.
"I'll go round the back"
"You can't get in the fuckin' back"
His friend's losing patience. He runs out of deodorant.
I leave them to it and go visit a neighbour. An hour later I return. There's a locksmith's van parked outside their house.
"I told you. You're gonna need a locksmith"

Police cover up alert; suspected stabbing in Fitzroy Avenue

I don't know the details because they have not been made public (go figure), but the word on the street is that someone was stabbed in Fitzroy Avenue last week. The area was cordoned off the next day. Police cover ups are nothing new to the Holylands. See here and here and here and here and here and here and here and here. Last semester I stopped sargeant Alan Bell in the street and asked him about the guy who got stabbed in the neck opposite the University Avenue Spar.
"What? I've heard nothing about it."
He has a skilled deadpan. His partner twiddles with his earpeace.
"We've got to go."
Recently this Queens University student had his own close brush with death and has the photos to prove it. I'm still here. Or, as a friend said to me recently,
"You Refuse to Die."
Do you think I'll let them cover up my experience?

Katrina wakes up and smells the coffee...............................................?

The penny's dropped!! Or has it??
Katrina feels "betrayed" by the planning service. Fuck me!! What did she expect??!!
After all the meetings she had with "the Head of the Planning Office" and "Lord Rooker", and,
"Just you wait and see. It's all gonna change here. They've promised me".
Was the big surprise the HMO "cap" that David Farrell publicly welcomed as a "Great victory"?
Now the "chairwoman 0f the Holyland Regeneration Project" feels "betrayed by the planners".
Of 89 planning applications only 2 have been refused. If you're wondering about the 41 that are still under consideration, the landlords have a simple solution, demolish the house. Look at 16 Rugby avenue. It no longer exists. Only the front remains while Michael McMahon waits for his approval.
There are other options. Burn your own property. No-one can pretend that this is not professional arson. Two adjacent houses in Fitzroy Avenue went up simultaneously. They were sealed with steel shutters. The Fire Brigade could not gain access. Someone had to enter the buildings, plant multiple timed incendiaries, exit and seal the shutters up again. This is a pro who knows what they're doing. In another house in the same street all three stories went up simultaneously, hardly an amateur job. A lesser class of arsonist exists. A house in Rugby Avenue was recently purchased and promptly torched. Damage was minimal. The Fire Brigade suppressed it with ease. Still, it can now be declared a derilict and get a whopping great grant from the Housing Executive.
Rugby Avenue is being raped house by house. The huge back gardens are being built up right to the entry. The precedent has been set by Declan Boyle and Kerry O'Donnell. Every house in a 200 yard long terrace, bar the three or four owned by the Housing Executive, will go the same way.
It's time again to ask who are these "representatives" who have failed so miserably. First of all they can't decide what they are or what to call themselves. Is it the "Holyland Regeneration Association"? or the "Holyland Residents' Group"? or the " Belfast Holyland Residents' Association"? or the "Holyland Regeneration Project"? The South Belfast News seems unable to decide and so calls them all of the above depending on the article.
This is of course highly disingenuous. A "residents' group" is ostensibly run by the community for the community. We all know that in Northern Ireland nothing's that simple, but the pretence exists. A "regeneration project" runs on the "parnership" principle which, when I studied the subject, was called the "collaborative approach to community action". Such groups are funded by state and powerful private bodies and service a corporate agenda. With the passing of the troubles many have become "New Deal" training centres aggressively promoting benefit slavery. By their nature they are anti-democratic and act as enforcers or the equivalent of the American prison "trusty". Such is the case with most "residents' groups", but that's for another essay.
So, I conclude with some simple questions. What is the name of this group? When was it formed? Who elected the committee and when? Who are the committee? Who are the members of this entity? Are they the usual suspects; Gerard Morgan, a non-resident; Katrina O'Neill; David Farrell; and Tony McGuinness? Who do they represent? It's surely not this community, the handfull that remain. What have they acheived? Their own cry of "betrayal" exposes their failure. One could argue that they have in fact succeeded. The area has been raped to death by landlords, and that, in it's own way, is regeneration. They have acted as the perfect PR front for the Universities, their "partners in the community". The general public beleives the Holylands has been sorted. They're right, it has, just not in the way they think.

Sign of the Times

You have to admire these people. They must have carried this sign over a mile, and that was after ripping it off a metal frame. How they got past QUB security I'll never know. As for stealing it and carrying it all that way under the noses of the cops, it's just a miracle. It's a measure of the quality of undergraduates these days. Look at the respect they have for an academic institution.
If Queens want their sign back, it's in the entry behind my house.

Tony Comes Out of the Closet

He's done it! He's outed himself!
The figure previously known as "Mr T" has gone public. Tony McGuinness is on the BBC. Take a look here.

"Tony McGuinness from the local residents' association........"

Is this the same Tony McGuinness who was never elected to anything, whose position in the Housing Executive was "so sensitive" that he could not go on the committee? The same Tony McGuinness who attended every committee meeting? Who made him a spokesman? What is this "residents' group" that he represents? None formally exists. Perhaps a new one has been formed consisting of Tony, Gerard Morgan, who doesn't even live here, David Farrell and Katrina.
Is this the same Tony Mc Guinness who wrote an article in the South Belfast News under Katrina's name calling for 300 families to be forced to rent from landlords in the Holyland?
Clearly he wants to add to the £140 million that the landlords already receive in Housing Benefit.

"I think there is the beleif that that the Holylands is the place to party and that residents shouldn't be here"

Well hallefuckingluliah! How long did it take him to work that one out? Where does he think his neighbours have gone? They weren't abducted by aliens, they fled. They couldn't take it any more.

"There's a lot of empty houses here. A lot of the students have moved up to Stranmillis because they don't approve of the behaviour"

Next he'll be saying there are 300 empty properties in the Holyland. Does he think they won't be tenanted by the start of October? Why are landlords still raping the area? He was supposed to have got that stopped. Does he think they're stupid? Does he think they're wasting their money? They know the market - partyland for bogus students; 6000 of them, 100 of us. Of course they think we shouldn't be here. Most of us agree with them. We want the fuck out, but we're stuck. We're prisoners, and he feeds off our pain.

Shock and Awe

He rings the doorbell. No answer.
He gets out his phone.
"Open the fuckin' door!!"
There's a pause.
"I'm outside!! Open the fuckin door!!"
It opens. He goes in.
I can barely hear the shouting from number two. It's drowned out by the noise in the street.
I sit on my doorstep in the baking sun and watch as drunken students pour out of houses and flood the streets and entries. They're drinking illegally. They don't care.
The girls next door come out the front. They're smoking and chatting. One of them notices me.
"Shit!!"
She lets it slip. They pretend to ignore me. Their fellas come out and join them, drinking beers and smashing bottles in the street.
A neighbour walks by. He stops.
My kids have to play in this street! Clean that glass up!"
A hostile silence then a girl says,
"Clean it up. I don't want his kids getting hurt."
He kicks the fragments of glass into the road.
They can't avoid it any longer.
"We're your new neighbours"
I nod to them.
One of the guys starts playing loud music and passing the speakers through the open windows.
They're avoiding my gaze as I stare at them. One of the girls breaks.
"Do you want us to turn that down?"
"That would be a good idea"
She shouts through the window. The din lessens.
I go for a piss and am caught in mid stream by a friend calling from the front door.
I rush down to her. She's been phoning non stop. I haven't heard it ringing. As we go for a walk through the warzone she says to the girls,
"It's good to see you're considerate to your neighbours."
It doesn't seem to touch them.
The avenues are crowded with drunks, the pavements so full that we have to walk on the road.
The police drive by. They wave to us. All that's going on seems not to exist for them. By the evening they've made their point. They're nowhere to be seen as a long night of shouting, screaming, house alarms and broken glass goes on and on till morning.
The two days of the festival make it clear that the long peace of summer has ended. The tone has been set for the coming academic year.
You might consider these events an invasion. You'd be wrong. This was a raid. The invasion comes in October.
Fuck help us all.

Replies to Comments

Well, some people have kept the abuse coming. Good for you. To "anonymous" who thinks I should book myself into Knockbracken I say that a holiday up in the "Big House" sounds very tempting. My friends are amazed that after the events of the last years I have not had a nervous breakdown. I'm obviously stronger than I thought. Horrific experiences can cause permanent and catastrophic damage. Certainly the person I was several years ago has died. However, when one overcomes adversity a transformation takes place. Until recently I could not comprehend the saying,
"Damaged People are Dangerous. They know how to survive".
Well I get the picture now. I know how to survive, even when a madman's crushing my windpipe. I never thought I had it in me. I never thought I could face death with equanimity and say to the madman,
"Everbody dies!! Fuck you!!"
It is one of my proudest moments.
I wish I could post the comment from the resident who calls for resistance and direct action. The police would love it if I did that. I'm the moderator of this blog and would be instantly prosecuted for incitement. As I've said before, I am not the resistance. They operate on a strictly "Don't ask, Don't tell" basis. My private sympathies are well known, but I cannot be publicly seen to support the resistance, nor can any resident. So we have what is technically known as "Leaderless Resistance". There is no command structure for special branch to infiltrate. Instead there is endless autonomous action. Eliminating a single nexus does not undermine the whole. It merely creates martyrs. Cells are not lined up like dominoes waiting to fall when a senior commander breaks. In many ways the Holyland Resistance is the most democratic movement of all. Yet while it is of the people, for the people, I cannot publicly endorse it, but I sure as fuck won't condemn it.

Enjoy Your Studies

I see them from the bedroom window. They're parked outside my house. Brash male voices talk in country accents.
Time to make an impression.
"Do I have new neighbours?" I'm striding out the front door.
"Well, ah, yeah. Over there number11"
I know who owns that house. Declan Boyle the Ethnic Cleanser.
"What are you? First? Second? Third?"
"Second"
"You're less likely to party then?"
"Well, ah",
He's fumbling,
"Less than last year. Anyway we've a strict landlord"
"There's a lot of families in this street."
"Um"
They're starting to squirm.
"You've heard the rumors?"
No answer.
"Enjoy your studies."

You have to laugh. If you don't, you'll start to cry, and the tears will drown you.

Openess and Accountability

I note that the Commitee took themselves off to the Holiday Inn for their meeting. City church had notes up telling us that the meeting had been cancelled. This is odd, as I was told that afternoon that BHRA had booked a room for the evening. I guess the prospect of pickets carrying A3 photos spooked a few people. When the police dropped me off at the church there were notes up saying the resident's meeting had been cancelled. Some people really want me out of the picture, as the following letter, presumably drafted in the Holiday Inn, makes clear.


Now a number of things need to be addressed in this letter. First, they have changed the name. They're calling it a Residents Association rather than a Regeneration Association. They can't do that without a vote at an EGM or AGM. What they have done is unconstitutional and therefore invalid. Secondly, they have given their address as 12-24 University Avenue. This is the address of City Church. We deserve clarification about whether or not they are based in City Church and how they are linked with this church. Is a non-resident member of it still on their committee?
Thirdly, while I may have been disruptive at one meeting, this can hardly be said of others held this year, unless, of course, they find criticism and awkward questions to be disruptive.
Fourthly, I have not resigned from anything. At the last meeting I commented that a large number of people were so disgusted with the Committee that they would never come back. My membership may have lapsed, but then again so has that of most or all members. I'll come back to this later.
Fifthly, the constitution contains no means for excluding residents. Attempts to do so are then invalid. I'll comment further in a moment.
Sixthly, G.Morgan, the secretary, is not a resident. It's wonderfully absurd to see a non-resident excluding a resident from a so-called representative body.
According to the constitution of BHRA, committee members are elected for twelve months, and membership fees cover a twelve month period. It is almost twenty months since the last AGM. I remember boycotting it. According to their own constitution the committee is invalid and the association has, in all likelyhood, no members. It is dead. It is finished. It no longer exists. I feel the Monty Python parrot sketch coming on. No, it's not sleeping! It's dead! It's an ex-Parrot/Association, whatever!

comments and feedback

My, I've got some angry feedback from "students". All of it's too obscene to publish here, much of it's threatening. I will, however address some of the issues they have raised.
First of all, I am not the resistance. I will neither condemn nor endorse them, but paint strippering cars and putting rocks through windows is their prerogative. The authorities have yet to convict any resident for resistance activity despite spending tens of thousands of pounds per month on a massive operation involving undercover, helicopters, unmarked cars,TSU's etc. I for one am watched 24/7. On one level this is very flattering. the police seem to think I am a one man resistance movement, appearing out of nowhere, striking and disappearing like a ninja. I wish it were true, I really do. Think of all the women I could have, the reward due to a hero.
Unfortunately it's not true, and to answer someone elses point, yes I am on medication. So are most of my neighbours. Living with depression and anxiety is hard work. There's a lot to be said for anti-depressants and, in moderation, valium is a wonderful drug. I don't advise people to take it like smarties. It is highly addictive and it's use must be monitored.
To another poster I reply of course I'm a grown man, so are the young bucks that run rampant through the Holyland. In other countries they would be expected to do military service and any of their juvenile self-centered shit would be answered with a drill sargeant's boot up their arse. Adults should be expected to behave like adults, not twelve year olds from The Lord Of The Flies. Priveleged arsewipes need need to learn that other people have rights and will hit back if you deprive them of the Human Right to Peace in their Own Home and to not be Tortured with Extreme Noise.
Finally, someone's complained about me telling them to shut up in the Heaney Library. Get it straight, it's a library, not your living room. I'm sick and tired of telling dickheads to keep the noise down and the looks of angry indignation I get from these fools when they're expected to behave like aduts rather than spoilt, pampered, priveleged fuckwads.
I feel better after that. Keep the abuse coming.

The Failure of "Regeneration"

David Farrell finally got his skip moved. Naturally they left a mountain of rubbish for the council to clean up, or not.
Farrell, never one to miss a photo-op, was complaining about the state of the place and the presence of "over 100" skips in the area. He really should learn to count. That would mean an average of 15-20 skips in each street and, while we are living in an endless building site, things aren't quite that bad.
However, he does raise, unintentionally, a useful point. He speaks for the "Belfast Holyland Regeneration Association", but what is regeneration? Is it demolishing family houses and replacing them with HMO flats? This is the argument the landlords use when they promote their "University Quarter Regeneration Association".
On the night that the landlords were finally ejected from the residents meetings I saw Michael McMahon screaming into the face of Denise from the church,
"We're landlords!! We're regenerating this area!!"
"You're a fuckin' vampire!!" I shouted.
Denise came between us, slowly backing me away. I remember the look of terror in Declan Boyle's eyes as he cowered behind his two year old son in a manner that looked for al the world like he was holding a human shield in the middle of an angry face off between landlords and residents.
If we use the landlords definition, Farrells clique have succeeded in regeneration. The area has been raped and raped until there is almost no community left. Officially there are "less than 200 residents" and 6000 students left, a ratio of 30 to 1. In reality, there are less than 100 residents, a ratio of 60 to 1.
In their constitutuon, the Farrell clique claim they want to "redress the balance" between students and residents. In this they have surely failed. Now a number of half assed schemed have been proposed ranging from forcing families to rent from private landlords to government confiscation of vacant dwellings.
For the record, the landlords may be evil, but they are not stupid. If they put "students" into their properties they get more rent plus a humongous pay off courtesy of the ratepayer. They don't have to pay rates on their properties.Landlords surely want families to be forced to rent from them, but only after they have extracted the maximum profit from "students" and the ratepayer.
I notice some families, many immigrants , are being moved into the slums in Wolsey street. Flat Rentals have an entire block that are nearly all empty because they are Unfit for Human Habitation. The government can sieze them if it wants, but the cost of fixing them is approaching that of a new build. In fact, it's probably more than the cost of system built housing. As well as that, imprisoning families in an area that is completely out of control is an act of extreme moral depravity.
Investigations on the deleterious effect of "studentification" show that once the student population reaches 10% a residential area becomes unsustainable and inevitably dies, becomindg "Studentland". A government cap of 30% on HMO's, a ratio of 30% "students", will destroy every community the landlords invade. Of course, the government was lying. Planning have rubber stamped a free for all on the rape of communities all over South Belfast.
So now we come back to were we started; Farrell, skips and "Regeneration". If Residents outnumber "students" 9 to1 their community is destabilised and finished. If "Students" outnumber residents 60 to 1 It's been over for a very long time. People want out and skips are the least of their worries.

Exonerated

For the background to this see Raided

The Stasi Wear Kid Gloves These Days

"Yes officer, what can I do for you now?"
This one was a detective. He was Amused. I guess they'd told him hammering the front door half off it's hinges wasn't going to phase me.
"We've had a complaint about harrassment. David Farrell want's you to stop writing about him on your website and take everything you have written about him on it off"
"Well officer, David Farrell's free to complain about my criticisms of him and you're free to arrest me"
"Hopefully not for harrassment"
They really don't like me. They apparently consider me a very serious criminal. Time to put them in their place.
"The harrassment laws have been introduced to silence dissent. The journalist George Monbiot has written about an electricity company in England that, because it is a person in the eyes of the law has taken harrassment proceedings against local protesters who don't want toxic ash dumped in their lake. If they come within so many feet of an employee they go to jail. If an employee approaches them, they have to step back, whether it's into the path of of an oncoming bus seems not to matter"
He almost laughed at that one.
Now it's time for the meat.
"Someone tried to kill me recently for exercising freedom of speech. Do you really think I'm afraid of going to jail for it?"
This is news to him. The lid's been clamped on tight. They take their cover ups seriously.
"When did Farrell call you about this?"
"This evening"
"And you came out right away?"
"It's a serious offence"
"Free speech?"
No answer.
He gives me his card. He and three uniforms depart.

Comments

I've finally done it. It took a lot of persuasion, but I've agreed to allow comments on this blog. Because I do not have home internet access trolls may feel free to run rampant, but beware, I'll be watching and you will be deleted. So bring it on, the good, the bad, the ugly. Let a thousand flowers bloom. Well, maybe that's not the best quote. Mao used his "Democracy Wall" to flush out the dissidents so he could crush them, and I know how it feels to be on the business end of that treatment. So do your worst trolls. After all, vitriolic abuse is not the same thing as having your head bashed off the pavement.

The Latest Outrage

First they threw bottles through her window, leaving her baby to crawl through broken glass.
Then they stole her garden bench.
Then they stole her pram from outside her front door.
Now the latest outrage.
A student walked into her house, forcing his way past her. He walked up the stairs and climbed into her childs bed.
She screamed at him.
He ignored her.
She dialled 999 then hammered on the window until a neighbour came.
He ignored both of them.
The police arrived.
He calmly walked down the stairs.
"Apologise to her!!" The police weren't taking the piss.
He smirked at them.
He wasn't drunk, he wasn't off his head. He knew what he was doing. He had not gone into that house by mistake. He gave the cops a false address.
When they drove him home to tuck him into bed they discovered 11 Palestine St was bricked up.He got out of the four wheel drive and ran. Now they had to arrest him.
Of course they'll make the whole affair go away. They have made no arrangements to take her written statement, essential if charges are going to be pressed. When she phoned them their response was,
"Nine times out of ten this thing won't happen again"
They're brushing it under the carpet.
Her nerves are shattered. She wants out, but knows a hostel will be worse. She's applied for emergency accommodation, but may not get it. What's happening to us is not classified as intimidation, so we've no hope of getting housing priority. We're lucky if we get any housing points at all.

The "speak truth to power" moment

"I'm tired of hearing this nonsense that police treat residents different to students"
"It's not nonsense, it's my experience."
"It's nonsense"
Lewis Brown thought he could bitch-slap me.
A voice pipes up,
"Who here agrees with Alan?"
Half the hands in the room go up.
"There you are, Lewis. We must all be talking nonsense. Don't ever patronise me again!!"
Now he gets bitch slapped
Inspector lewis Brown and some of his pals from Donegall Pass PSNI had come to a residents' meeting. The community had turned out in force. The anger in the room was palpable. Every speaker bar one voiced furious contempt for the police.
I was having a field day,
"Ever since Robert Peel, who at least was explicit about it, you people have existed to protect property privelege and power, and to keep the little people in their place. Well you're certainly good at keeping the little people in their place and making sure students can do whatever they want. They're above the law. Eveyone in this room knows that nobody will be prosecuted for the sexual assauly that took place in Palestine street. Your people refused to arrest the ones that assaulted David Farrell. You have declared every one of us to be fair game for students. They know that they can do whatever they want to us and you'll make sure nothing happens to them"
The hammering went on for an hour and a half. Almost everyone in the room gave them hell.
Gordon Douglas, the man from Queens, made some noise about student's exams being delayed as punishment. I wasn't having it,
"Gordon, I have had exams delayed. I have had academic year after year written off because I have to live among your students. This year has been written off because I suffered intimidation at the hands of a builder, something that your officers, Lewis, refused to investigate properly!!"
I was eyeballing Lewis. We were three feet apart. He was terrified.
Thus it came to pass, the speak truth to power moment. The bottom line, as Chomsky says, Is that power already knows the truth. It just doesn't care.

Public Accountability

"So what if I didn't write the article?!!"
Katrina was shouting. She'd wanted a row all night and now, finally, I was fool enough to give her it.
"If you've got anything to say about me come to my front door. Don't put it on the internet!!"
"OK, I'll say it now Katrina. Did you write the article in the South Belfast News?"
"You should be ashamed of yourself!!"
"Did you write the article?"
"So what if I didn't write it?!!"
And so it went on.It was an ignominious end to a resdents' meeting that had seen the community tear the cops to pieces (metaphorically), with one dissenting voice. Katrina, the esteemed chairperson of the Belfast Holylands Regeneration Association, thanked the police for the wonderful service they had provided for her. I commented that she was very priveleged indeed, a fact that was not unrelated to her position.
Katrina, it appears, wants all of the benefits of being a public figure: her face in the papers and on the TV, meetings with Lord This and Baron That (like they care) and the privelege of being the only resident in the Holyland the police actually protect. Well, being a public figure means that you are publically accountable. anyone can write about you on the internet and in the press, or talk about you on the TV or radio. That's the price you pay. That's why Mr. T. hides behind a woman, putting her name and not his on the disgusting article he wrote in the South Belfast News.
It's not acceptable to claim that you represent a community and yet tell them to their faces that you don't care if they boycott your meetings. You have declared your refusal to be accountable and, in the process, lost all legitimacy.
Naturally I'll be saying this to your face at the next residents' meeting.

"We don't want to arrest him"

The girls in 12 Carmel St certainly know how to cause trouble. So much so, in fact, that the words,
"Sluts. Whores live here"
were painted on their wall some months ago.
Now I don't care what they get up to in the privacy of their own bedrooms, but when they take it into the street it's a different matter.
Paddy was going out with one of the girls. Evidently they had fallen out because he wasn't invited to the birthday party in no 12.
Being an aggressive sort of hillbilly, he tries to kick the front door in. When that fails he tries to drag his (presumably ex) girlfriend out the front window. In the tug of war that ensues, the girls manage to pull her back in. He slams the window on her hands. I can see why she dumped him. They call the police.
One by one four cop cars arrive. They try to reason with Paddy who is too busy screaming at the house.
"I know he's in there. I know you're screwin' him. He's the one with the big hard cock!!"
Paddy appears to have some issues wih his sexuality.
By now a row has developed in the street between the girls in No12, their friends from down the street, Paddy's friends and Paddy. This continues for an hour, from 1.30 to 2.30. Four carloads of police do nothing to quiet it down.
The girls are handing out cups of tea to the cops. Evidently the same bimbos that regularly play cheesy republican music for the retarded are unfamiliar with the phrase,
"No More Tea"
Ciaran, the enormous cop with the shaven head, is most popular with them.
"Ciaran, you must play GAA do you? You'd make a great player."
Paddy wants the police to give him a lift home to the wilds of county Antrim. He seems to think they're a taxi service.
Now his mother's on the phone.He hands it to the cops.
"He's causing bother, but we dson't want to arrest him."
They reassure his dear old mother that they'll do their very best for him then walk him to the bottom of the street.
Five minutes later he's back. The cops return. Finally they arrest him.
The landlord of the property, Steven Magill, has shown no apparent interest in his tenants or the mayhem they've caused over the last year.

A Short Note on the Banality of Evil

I read Katrina's article in the South Belfast News recently. I call It Katrina's article, but it's obvious she didn't write it.
"We are pleased that the draft HMO subject plan now rejects PPS1, acknowledges the importance of HMO issues as material planning considerations, and affirms that the subject plan complies with equality legislation"
She certainly didn't write that. It reads like a Housing Executive discussion document.
The true author of it is, I beleive, a shadowy figure who shuns accountabiity like a vampire hiding from the sun. For the sake of brevity and to protect his identity I'll call him "Mr T" and he is in his own way a truly banal individual who does truly evil things. Of course I'm not comparing hin to Hannah Arendt's description of Adolf Eichmann, the dull bureaucrat who sent millions to their deaths in Auschwicz. Well, OK, I am, but only in the sense that Eichmann represents a ubiquitous type. Such people are driven by their own need for importance and delusions of relevance. Ultimately their compulsion becomes a self- fulfilling prophecy.They become relevant and significant as a result of the harm they do unto others.
Let's examine what "Mr. T" has to say for himself.
"In the Holyland around 300 properties, capable of housing families, are lying empty. This number is sufficient to house 40 percent of the social housing waiting list in south Belfast........ if community audits are carried out in other areas they will find that there is sufficient vacant stock in South Belfast to resolve waiting lists without the need to build new houses at enormous cost to the public purse."
Well, that's some bucket of words, none of them Katrina's. So let me decipher it for you. "Mr.T", clearly a man on the inside track, has jumped on the policy bandwagon that says,
"Privatise all Public Housing. Force people to rent from private landlords."
Across the UK Council housing is being liquidated by any means neccessary. The new housing policy is "Cathy Come Home": slum housing, enormous rents (not fully covered by housing benefit), no rights, no security of tenure, eviction on a whim, homelessness.
Never let it be said that banal people don't do evil things.
There is, however, more. He wants to imprison 300 families in the Holylands. He wants to make them live in this lunatic asylum. Now, for the record, there are no 300 empty properties in the Holylands. Almost every landlord property is tenanted with students despite market saturation of HMOs.
Sartre was right. In the end we can only be judged by our actions. And,
"Evil exists"

"Things have changed"

"What do you want now?!!"
"What.....??"
He was taken aback
"We have a report from a local landlord that you walked out and stood in front of his van"
"I don't know what you're talking about"
"Your behaviour is bordering on harrasment. If we have to come back we'll arrest you."
"You're gonna arrest me are you? But you refused to arrest the ones who beat up David Farrell?!!"
A student and his "friend" had beaten up David Farrell, a defensless drunken fool, and prominent resident.I watched the cops caution those that did it and let them go without arresting them.
"When I stood up to your people and objected they were gonna arrest me"
I wish they had arrested me, but a friend and witness to the assault talked me down from the confrontation. The cops refused to question either of two witnesses, both of whom had to approach them and offer to give a statement. It was a week before they got back to one of them.
"We also have a report that you approached the estate agent and prospective buyer of a house in Palestine Street"
"What am I supposed to have said?"
"You told them a girl was raped in that house"
"A girl was raped in that house"
"It's not your place to approach them"
"It's not my place to tell the truth?! If I'm gonna buy a house I want to know if someone was raped in it. If you're gonna buy a house do you not want to know if someone was raped in it?"
He has no answer. Now I know it was Declan Boyle who complained.
"And when it comes to arresting people, I spoke to a former member of the RUC and he told me that he has never heard of two people assaulting someone and not being arrested."
"Things have changed"
"Yeah, these people can do whatever they want to us an we're nothing but scum to you."
They're getting into their van.
"If you don't like it you can always complain"
"We all know it'll make no difference"

"Sell your home and get the fuck out of the Holylands"

There were four of them, waiting in the entry, what for we'll never know. She didn't see them. It was pitch black.
"What the fuck are you doing out here at this time?!!"
They surprised her. She felt threatened, but would take no shit.
"I'll dump my rubbish any time I want!!"
"You're one of them fuckin' residents aren't you?"
"Yeah. So what?"
"This is our area now. Sell your house and get the fuck out of the Holylands!!"

If you're wondering who these people are, they're your future doctors, lawyers, teachers. Do you really want them teaching your kids?

"Indecent Exposure"

Picture the scene. You call the cops.
"There's a naked student running down the street."
"I'm sorry, we can't make out what you're saying."
You hang up. Phone again. Different cop.
"What does he look like?"
"Naked"
Eventually two of them come out. The exhibitionist is long gone. It's not hard to work out why they took their time.

It is of course absurd that public nudity is treated as indecent exposure and can get you a lifetime on the sex offenders' register. However, if a working class person ran naked through the street, the cops would destroy their life. If the law is an ass, it's burden should fall equally on the rich and the poor. Well, that's what they say anyway.

Another Family Flees

They told no-one. One day the removal van just came. They couldn't take any more. Nobody knows where they have gone. People do that here, just disappear. Maybe they're renting from some scumbag private landlord. Maybe they're renting from one of those who have raped this community. Thus the landlords create greater demand for their own disgusting trade.
A friend of mine remembers when Declan Boyle's brother ( and business partner) put her and her children out of their home so he could cram students in. Welcolme to homelessness. Say hello to the world of " Cathy Come Home", our government's housing policy. Say goodbye to public housing. It's going going gone. The new Rachmans have taken over. This area was redlined at least 15 years ago and tens of millions taken from the housing budget (It's gone now. No more executive new builds.) and poured into landlords' pockets. Kiss your community goodbye. It's a UK phenomenon, but in the Holylands we get our faces rubbed in it.

"Criminal Damage"

"People are learning to hate you cunts all over again.!!"
I was screaming. It felt good. I could tell they wanted to arrest me. Itchy fingers were reaching for the CS spray.
"You treat us like dogshit, while you let these cunts do whatever they want!"
My friend calmly tells then that it's true. She politely disagrees with their rehearsed answers about dealing with the situation as they find it. If a resident calls for assistance they may never come out, but if a student complains about a resident six police cars arrive and his door's nearly kicked in.
The reason? "Criminal Damage". Tell the cops that a resident's committed criminal damage and they'll swoop like something out of a Hollywood movie. One marked and five unmarked cars were floating round the Holyland watching the community, waiting to pounce on my neighbours.
They've declared war on us. They're an army of occupation. They drive on by while "students" commit untold criminal damage, including plenty of arson, and inflict catastrophic noise, then turn to me and tell me to,
"Keep the noise down"
Is it any wonder I exploded?
If you're wondering why they didn't arrest me, it's because I had a witness. Without her I'd have got the CS spray in the face and a baton over the head. You can be sure no "Student" will ever have that experience.

The keystone cops have got machine guns now

Why were they there? Five landrovers, a twenty man Tactical Support Unit of riot squad, every police car and van from Donegall Pass station flooded the Holylands. Another resident and I followed them as they chased a teenager into the Lower Ormeau and cornered him with machine guns. Was he a Republican Dissident? Not likely, not at his age. Was he an armed robber? he looked too terrified to be a hardened criminal.
The Tactical Support Units roamed through the Holylands with their machine guns searching gardens and entries. It was like the troubles, but without the danger. These fools weren't even wearing body armour. The search lasted from midnight till 1.30 am. A police car pulled up and told a TSU,
" We got one of them"
At the police meeting we were told that two deeply anti-social individuals were scooped and a great service had been done to the public. I commented that I would love to see a twenty man TSU in the Holylands five nights a week.
"Of course", I said,"it would help if they enforced the law.
Sargeant Bell's tired of hearing this.
"You've raised this before and Lewis Brown's told you..." Blah blah blah blah blah.
Later I discovered the truth. A fifteen year old girl had broken bail conditions and run away from the local home with her boyfriend.
A sledge hammer is used to crack a nut when it's working class people. If you've got property or privelege or power you can do whatever you want. You're above the law.

Open letter to Inspector Lewis Brown, commander Donegall Pass Police Station

Dear Inspector Brown,
by the time you read this you should have received a copy of the receipts from the internet cafe I have been using to post on this blog. It is my belief that the Police are holding my computer to silence me. As you can see, that has failed. Your people siezed my computer four months ago. They cannot pretend they are still holding it as part of an investigation. Indeed, the attitude of Detective Sargeant Sylvia Hamilton was to state bluntly,
"No. You're not getting your computer back."
Well, Inspector Brown, if I'm not getting my computer back, I expect to be reimbursed for my internet cafe expenses.
It is possible to copy the contents of my hard drive if a permanent record is needed.
For what it's worth, I have nothing to hide or apologise for.
I expect to hear from you sooner rather than later.

Yours faithfully,
Alan Murray.

Police target residents

You will recall, way back when, before the police siezed my computer, I said we are a lesser class of person to them. Everybody sees the looks of suspicion and loathing they give us as they drive around like an army of occupation. Residents are stopped in the street,
"Who are you? Where are you going?"
Me, at least, they know by name. It's odd that they don't stop students willy-nilly. Well, OK, it's not odd, it's policy. Criminalise the community. What they don't realise is that this is a tacit admission of failure. The entire community is in revolt, apart from a few collaborators. Now their energy's directed at containing our rage while the "Students" can do what they want. That, beleive me, is policy.
If students vandalise a resident's car, the resident is threatened with prosecution. If a resident is relating to police how he was attacked by three students, the police pull his son and, when he objects, is threatened by an enraged officer brandishing CS spray and a baton. Naturally nothing will be done about the "student" attackers, other than going through the motions.
For the record, we are all free to walk down any street or up any entry and we don't have to explain ourselves to anyone.

Charlatan claims to represent community

David Farrell's at it again. He's telling the press that he's the "Chairman" of the, "Belfast Holylands Regeneration Association". At least he's not calling it a resident's group.
He's written to the Police, wardens and universities to tell them what a good job they did making st Patricks day quiet. Does he expect us to beleive that they are responsible for it falling on a weekend, coinciding with mothers day and being washed out by a three day Atlantic storm?
There was a large police presence, but, as I'll explain in a later post, it focused almost entirely on residents, barring the collaborators of course.
An end must be put to this fake residents/regeneration/collaboration group.It's boycotted by residents who are almost universally disgusted with it.

Raided

They came at 7.45am. I'd had little sleep. It was timed for maximum disorientation.
"Mister Murray Hurry Up"
I'm rushing to the door.
"We have a warrant to search the place.You can stay, but if you interfere you'll be removed. Do you understand?"
"OK"
The uniforms go about their work and the first plain clothes introduces herself.
"I'm Sylvia"
She sounds like a social worker.
Her partner, Alan, chimes in.
"This situation's got out of control. It's got to stop."
I'm feeling patronised.
"We'll look after you" Says Sylvia, "We're your guardian angels."
Alarm bells are going off in my head.
I look around to see my computer being taken out the front door.
I go into the kitchen. Every tin of yellow paint is being opened.
"What are you looking for?"
A uniform shows me the warrant.
" Orange/yellow paint, brake fluid boots."
I'm not thinking straight because they're siezing a lot more than that.
"We're taking your swords", says Alan,"until this is all over.
They're taking my antique swords. Even the wooden training swords I made myself are going.
"Leave me the baseball bat"
"No, it's going too."
"How am I supposed to defend myself?"
"If your house is attacked just call us
"You won't get here in time"
"Yes we will"
They're taking the piss. I'd be dead before I got through to the station.
Alan's prattling again.
"If this doesn't stop someone's going to get killed here"
They don't know the half of it
"You know why we're here. These bin fires have got to stop."
"You think I'm in the frame"
"The dogs in the street know you did it. You're out of control. people are afraid of you."
He's pouring it on like hot butter.
Sylvia approaches me.
"We're arresting you on suspicion of arson with intent to endanger life. You do not have to say anything, but anything you do not say, but reveal later can be held against you in a court of law."
"Can I take my medication?"
"We'll take it with us Our Doctor can administer it."
I put my tablets into a bag.
We're about to go. I need to get dressed.
"Where are my boots?"
"They've been siezed"
I put on my trainers.
"We have to put cuffs on you"
" Front or back?"
"Back"
They're uncomfortable. They make it difficult to squeeze into the Police car, and I have to sit forward in the seat as we drive to the station.

The Holding cell has piss on the floor.I shake with cold and fear while I munch on a mars bar.
After a while they take me for processing. They take my wallet, my gloves , my hat, my belt. They let me keep the bounty bar.
As the sargeant's taking my details my bowels are about to burst.
"I can't hold it sarge!!"
"OK just run"
I make it barely in time and squat above a stainless bowl pulling my cheeks apart while the world falls ouy of my backside. It's the first of many visits to the "customers" toilet.
I sit in a cell with my shoes outside.
"In case you hang yourself with the laces"
Well whatever.
I wait. And wait. And wait.
The door opens.
"Your solicitor's on the phone"
My solicitor, Julie has known me for seventeen years. She tells me to eat something. Lunch is on its way soon and she'll be there not long after.
In between lunch and frequent visits to the toilet I try to relax.Hours have passed. I was raided before 8am. It's now 2pm.
My solicitor arrives. Alan, or Detective Sargeant Piper to his friends, takes her aside for a chat about my mental health. I think he's trying to convince her I'm crazy. She's no dozer. He'll make fools of neither of us.
I tell Julie I know nothing about the fires in No2 Jerusalem St, and, with me being innocent the Police have no forensic evidence.
At 3pm the interviews begin. We will not finish till 8pm.
"What did you do that day?"
"I got up, I can't remember when. It was late. Afternoon sometime. I went into town. I got food. I came home.I said hello to the workmen at the front door of No2. I went inside. I went out the back and saw them dumping a huge pile of rubbish in the entry. I made my tea later on. I went for a walk late. I noticed that the windows of No2 were broken. I came back. I watched more TV. I had a bath and played music I went to bed."
"Did you hear any noise?"
"Its the Holyland there's always noise."
" Did you hear the fire brigade?"
"I was in the bath . I heard diesel engines. I thought it was the fire brigade coming to put out a eurobin."
"A what?", says Alan, feigning stupidity.
"Those big steel bins. They get burnt all the time."
"You didn't hear anything else?"
"I was playing loud music."
It's time to go over the evidence collected.
"What's this large tube of glue for?"
"It's general purpose, but it's perfect for round the bath. You've seen the sealant. It needs replaced."
"You haven't used it to seal up locks?"
"No"
"What about this superglue?"
"I have a house full of model kits. It's ideal for them. It's better than polystyrene cement. You've seen the large model tank stored in a biscuit tin I've been working on."
Neil, the evidence guy nods.
Now it's the yellow paint.
"That cream colour's for the living room floor. The others I found in skips or the entry. That large empty tub, turn it upside down.You see the coloured paint? I mount figures on it while I'm painting them."
"You haven't used these to paint X's on people's windows?"
"No"
"We'll be doing forensics on these. Will they match?"
"Well, paints can be very generic, but it's most unlikely."
" Can you tell us what this large stencil says?"Neill's feeling pompous.
"RICH SCUM GO HOME"
"What does that mean?"
" Well, let's see. I'm surrounded by people who've come up here for a three year long party, all the while abusing education. Look at my course. It's one of the best in the UK. It has a 50% non-attendance rate. These people come up here, go apeshit and you people do nothing about it. You just drive on by and legitimise their behaviour."
"What would you have us do?"
"I've spent all day in a cell called a "Drunk cell". There's an offence called "Drunk and Disorderly". Park a meat wagon in the Holylands, fill it up and process these people at the end of the night. They come up here, torment working class people and drive around in brand new cars that mummy and daddy bought them. And no, I didn't paintstripper their cars!!!"
Julie cuts in.
"I think we should take a break here. You're getting Quite upset."
"Thank's Julie. You're right. I just don't think I have anything to apologise for."
We take a break. Dinner arrives.It's suitably tasteless. The ordinary officers in the station are, I have to say, very decent to me.It must be refreshing for them to have a polite customer. Events in the interview room are of course most unpleasant. The whole business of being raided, arrested and grilled is increadibly threatening. The sense of ontological terror is overwelming.
While I eat chips my solicitor tells me the cops are on a fishing expedition. They have nothing. I know they're trying to pin all the resistance activity on me, as if a whole community isn't in revolt.
We have many breaks during the interviews. They're going on for hours. The cops are trying to trip me up or break me. I'm an innocent man. But they have to try don't they. My innocence or guilt is irrelevant. They need to make an example of someone.
More interviews. They've siezed the handbills I've been circulating with the address and phone number of Douglas Bailie, the landlord of No2 Jerusalen St on them. Later they'll caution me with harrassment for circulating his details and instruct me to take them off this website. They don't want me putting a list of his other properties in the area on here either or, for that matter, Declan Boyle's details. They seek to protect power from accountability.
"What can you tell us about these boots?"
"They're boots. they keep my feet dry in the rain and warm in the winter."
"We won't find any evidence on them?"
"I walked through the glass outside that house. I,ve done that with these trainers as well."
"Well, we'll have to confiscate them too"
They give me a pair of oversize plimsoles. Neill, feeling clever, says I look like Krusty the Clown. Beleive it or not, that wee boy has a psychology degree.
I'm finally released. Julie gives me a lift home. It's just as well. I'd have had to trudge through the rain in Krusty the Clown Plimsoles on a wet November night.
The next day I see the article in the South Belfast News. The fake residents group have been stitching up their neighbours. Go figure.

Postscript.
This happened in November. It's now the end of march and the cops still have my computer. They needn't pretend they're holding it as part of an investigation. They're trying to
silence me.

I went back twice to be reinterviewed. They had nothing to put to me. The second time Neill, the Krusty the Clown guy, told me they'd be holding my computer. I said why don't you copy the hard drive and return it to me. He answers with some words of wisdom.
"You can buy a new hard drive for a couple of hundred quid."
"A...couple ..of hundred..quid..?"
The couple next to me are sniggering
"Well, Neill why don't you lend me a couple of hundred quid?"
"No" His smile's slipping away.
"I didn't think so."
"Well I'm not burning down houses in the Holyland"
Calmly I say " Neither am I"
His smile's gone now.
"Am I free to go?"
"Yes you're free to go"
We part company. Now I'm Smiling.

Creepy Critters prowl the Entries

I was in the yard getting firewood.It was 10.45pm. When I heard their voices I went into silent mode. They were checking my perspex roof and commenting on the "second house down", mine.As they were walking away I opened the yard door and said,
"What may I do for you gentlemen?"
"How may you...Oh!...My friend here owns the house next door(meaning no2) and he was showing me how he did his extention."
This sounds like bullshit. I'll make sure the police are informed. If people are casing my house I want it noted. Two men in their forties aren't going to be burglars. Something sinister is afoot. I don't expect the police to protect me. But I do expect something very nasty to happen. Perhaps Arson With Intent To Endanger Life?

Police cover up alert: suspected sexual ssault in 16 carmel St

On the night of Monday 12th of March something terrible happened to a female student in 16 carmel St. THe house was subsequently sealed off for two days by the police. Forensics and detectives were busy. The Police and Queens refuse to release a statement. Detective sargeant Sylvia Hamilton told me that the police have no obligation to tell the public what crime is alleged to have happened. In other words Cover Up is the order of the day. We know that Police were asking neighbours if they heard a young woman screaming. So what ever happened, it must have been truly awful. Otherwise why cover it up?

Residents Meeting

The cops yesterday returned my swords to me. They've finally concluded that I'm not a madman. I could have told them that anyway, but, you know, they just won't listen.
"No" says Sylvia the detective, "You're not getting your computer back."
Well, I decided to just say
"Fuck 'em",
and start posting from an internet cafe. I feel like sending them the bill. The least these fools can do is pay up after trying to silence me.

There was a residents meeting recently. It was the first we've had in five months. Naturally I waited till it was nearly over before I slipped in and dropped my little bombshell.
"this article in the paper claims that a residents group in the Holylands has been informing on their neighbours. I say informing, but how would they know who the resistance are. After all I don't know whose doing what."
"It could have been Rugby Road residents group or that one from the Lower Ormeau that meets in this church."
They know they're in deep trouble.
"I've some other questions to ask."
They've got that sinking feeling. They're reading the copy of the South Belfast News from November that I've passed round. Some are confused, some are outraged, some are terrified that I'll go ballistic.
Now I'm upping the ante.
"Is there a group called the Holyland Residents Group?"
"No"
"Whose the chairperson of this group?"
"Katrina"
She's not there.
"Then why is David Farrell going to the press and saying he's chairman of the Holyland Residents Group?"
He's making excuses. If Katrina's not available and the press call him, what's he to do?"
" Tell them the truth. You don't speak for this community. And you should not tell the world what a great job you think Queens are doing and how succesful you think the warden's scheme has been."
"You have to say nice things about them or they won't get their funding renewed."
"Who?"
"The Wardens"
" Well, I've a lot of respect for the wardens. I think they're very good people, but they'll admit that they can't get the universities, and I've discussed this with you",
I look toward Gordon Douglas, the man from Queens,
"at the police meeting. They can't get the universities to take meaningful action"
Gordon's nodding. He remembers the meeting well. He didn't have a good time.
I continue.
"It's a terrible thing to have to say"
They can see I'm going for the money shot.
"And no, I don't endorse it, but the only thing that makes a difference round here is direct action. Like it or not putting in windows, paintstrippering cars and painting X's on houses makes a difference"
"We can't support that" says Denise from the church.
"I don't endorse it, but it's made a difference."
"When?" says David Farrell" When has direct action made a difference?"
He walked right into it.
"You'll remember a young woman was sexually assaulted in Palestine Street in September. Well every window in that house was broken and those guys left pretty fast. Now I don't endorse it, but it worked.
"Well", says Denise, seeking the moral high ground. I would like to think that if someone saw a house being damaged they would call the police"
"It's one thing," I retort , "to report a crime. It's another thing to inform on your neighbours or, for that matter, stitch them up."
Time for the knockout blow.
" What's the name of this group?"
The Belfast Holyland Regeneration Association."
" This is not a residents group. If it was, the landlords would not have been coming to these meetings for a year and taking them over"
" But we got rid of them", says Denise.
" It took a year and a half and a hell of a fight. If this was a residents group they would have been told to get lost. There are people who don't live here, who have a home address and a term time address who can come to these meetings and vote"
"They're not here"
" If they wanted to, they could be, and they're not residents."
"What have You done?" Says David Farrell.
" I've stood up to students. I've written articles. I've given radio interviews and not used my full name because I'm not a self publicist. And I don't pretend to speak for this community."
"Neither do I"
" Then why are you telling the press that you are the chairman of the Holyland Residents Group?"
He has no answer to that.
" Where is the community?"
There are nine residents in the room.
" This group does not speak for what remains of this community.There are less than 200 residents left. You have regenerated nothing. Things have got worse over the past four years. The community is no longer sustainable."
"Well", says Denise, "If you want to propose changes you can come to the AGM next month."
They want to know why I will not go on the committee. I tell them I can acheive nothing on it. They agree that one voice can make no difference in that forum.
They Wrap it up. I leave knowing that I've said my piece and kept my cool the whole time.
The community has turned on itself. It had to happen. It was inevitable that people would start stitching up their neighbours. At least now it's out in the open and some people are squirming.

Service Interruption

The Police have confiscated my computer, so I am using that of my solicitor to make this post. I have had to make some changes to prevous posts and delete one in order to satisfy the protectors of property and power. (Almost) normal service will be resumed as soon as they return my computer. Incidentally they have not given me an inventory of siezed items. For what it's worth, it really is quite humiliating to have all your shoes taken away and be given a pair of oversize plimsoles to get you home in the rain.
If they wanted to, they could copy the entire contents of my hard drive to another machine and return my computer. What are the chances of that happening?

We are A Lesser Class of Person

I want to contrast the police treatment meted out to residents with the free licence given to "students" to wreak havoc on Halloween or for that matter any other day of the year.
The police drove around in large numbers on Halloween, often with cameras mounted on their armoured landrovers. They took no meaningful action in the face of rampant criminality. The streets were filled with drunk and disorderly behaviour. The police stood by and watched. Residents homes were targetted with fireworks. The police did nothing. Till 6am we had mob rule. The police legitimised it.
Compare this with my own experience during the week. I was, as usual, chopping wood in the entry. A police van pulled up.
"What are you doing?"
"Chopping wood"
"We've had a complaint from long term residents about the banging"
No residents complained. It was students
"Where did you get that sheet of board?"
"In a skip."
"Well that stuff's worth £40 a sheet"
It was worth £20, but I wasn't going to argue the point
"I've talked to you before about taking stuff out of skips"
Indeed he had. He'd told me I wasn't going to get arrested for it.
"Well officer I know it's technically illegal, but-"
"It's not technically illegal . It's theft."
"If it's in the skip and it's covered in rubbish I don't think they want it"
He wasn't going to surrender the point.
"Show me where the rest of this is"
I show him my yard full of wood.
"You're stocking up"
"Winter's coming"
" If we're called out again about this we'll be taking action. Do you understand?"
"Yes"
" And I want all that mess cleared up"
" OK"
"What's your name again?"
I tell him. His partner wants in on the act. She's getting out her notebook.
"No", he tells her, "leave it".
They go, then park their car in the next entry and watch me shovel the rest of the wood into a bag for later use.
Could you possibly imagine them treating a "student" like this? You've got to be fucking joking.
Ever since Robert Peel the police have existed to keep the "lesser class of person" in their place while protecting the prerogatives of the "better class of person" (You know who I mean. Think money.) to do whatever the fuck they want, especially when it means stamping on the little people.
Last night a police car pulled up alongside me.
"Yes, It's firewood"
"Where did you get it?"
"Skip"
There's a pause while I glare at them, then,
"That's OK"
I walk on knowing that no "student" carrying fencing from roadworks, or a yard door, or a garden railing or a bollard will ever be stopped.

Resistance

You may have been wondering why I have not commented fully on the various acts of resistance that take place here. I was hoping that the media would pay proper attention to our plight. Instead they have fallen for the same old publicity stunts trawled out by the Universities with the local collaborators acting as cheerleaders.
Until recently I thought like a victim. Now I will no longer look to my oppressors to alleviate my suffering. I will not ask the Universities to discipline their students. I will not be made a fool of again. I will not ask the police to protect me. We all know that that won't happen. I will not ask the Landlords to soundproof their properties. They are determined to torture every last one of us into an early grave if we can't escape.
The victim mindset is hard to break. When a neighbour is beaten by students she considers moving into a hostel. I know of one family that did just that a few years ago. They foolishly beleived that they would be better off. The truth of the matter is that there's always a circle of hell deeper than this one and hostels are it. I know because I've been there.
Victimhood means giving into fear. It means curling up in the corner and waiting to die. Victimhood nearly killed me. I couldn't sleep with the noise. I couldn't eat with the stress. I wasted away and nearly died of pneumonia. I will never give into fear again. I'll die on my feet, but not on my knees.
When a neighbour tells me he has to get drunk in order to sleep at night I understand him. We're all either on medication or self-medicating. It can never be the answer. Two more of my neighbours are selling up. It's a luxury they can afford. If I'd known better, I'd have tried to buy this house years ago. Almost all of us that remain lack the means to buy our way out. We are prisoners. I would ask what did we do to deserve this, but I don't beleive that we live in a just world. We can't pray our way out of this hole.
We could follow some scriptural fatalism and accept the maxim that the strong do what they can and the weak suffer as they must. But for the oppressed there is always the option of resistance. It was Sartre who said that we have a moral obligation to resist our oppressors. I will not disagree with him.
Every act of resistance defies victimhood. I remember a cop's indignation at an act of arson,
"What a disgusting mess! These assholes have to come and ruin everything!"
Beside him stood the landlord, my violator. Where was the cop's indignation at the rape of this community? Does our pain not exist for him? Or is property sacred and are we but little nothings to be criminalised?
If we are criminals, so be it. But one by one we are ceasing to be victims. I don't know how we'll get justice, but if we want it, we'll have to fight.

Collaborator

David Farrell does not speak for me or what remains of this community. To go on television and pretend that the Universities and their bogus students are not the problem is an act of cynical opportunism from a carpetbagger seeking a cushy job.
The truth of the matter is that the Universities have raped this community and the landlords are their contractors hired to do the dirty work for them.
Now we are prisoners here. We cannot get rehoused. Queens University spends £295 million on capital investment (code for corporate architecture) yet commits not one penny to rehousing its victims.
David Farrell can kow-tow to whoever he wants, but neither he nor his committee represents us nor ever will.

Lollipops

What was our Lord Mayor thinking? He stood outside Queens Students Union handing out lollipops. Is the SSHH campaign going to change the attitudes of those who torment us all night, sexually assault our women, beat us up when we ask them to keep the noise down? They're taking the piss.
I like Pat McCarthy, but his party, the SDLP are a Hard Right grouping. Our local M.P. is Alistair McDonnell, a major landlord and close associate of Declan Boyle, head of the Landlords Association and most hated figure in the Holylands.
The Student Union officers promoting this are careerist sock-puppets who will say whatever the University tells them.
Everyone I've talked to about this finds the whole sorry business to be an embarrasment and an insult to their intelligence.

It's only a matter of time

I heard the van pull up, the side door slide open and shut. If it had been just one person I would have heard a door slam. This was a crew. They fiddled with the lock to next door and slipped inside. I heard them move through the house then silence. I knew why they were there. I called the cops.
He was pleasant enough as we talked on my doorstep.
"The house seems secure from the outside"
I walked out and looked at the front door.
" The Bolt's off! It was on earlier"
They said they'd get in touch with the keyholder to find out if he'd been round and off they went.
I went inside and played very loud music. Two hours later at 1am I had a look. The padlock was back on. They'd been rumbled.
They were waiting for someone to break in and damage the building. I honestly beleive they would have beaten whoever came to death. I think it's only a matter of time before the landlords' hired thugs kill one of us.

Drugs bust in Jerusalem Street

On Friday a house was raided in Jerusalen Street. £5000 of drugs was siezed and a 20 year old man was arrested and charged.
One could argue that this is the reason for the massive undercover and uniformed presence. However this ignores a number of issues.:-

1.The stated agenda of protecting property.

2.The presence of a large subculture of heroin addiction in the Holylands/Botanic area so large that a needle exchange has been set up. No heroin was siezed.

3.The large number of drug dealers in the Holylands/Botanic area.If they'd wanted to, the cops could have raided ten houses and siezed £50,000 of drugs

The raid appears to be cosmetic, a bit like the attemps to "police" the "students" in the Holylands

Meat Wagon

The cops saturated the area on Saturday night, scouring the alleys for residents or anybody else who might hit back. Three teenagers narrowly escaped them while a resident was seized and would have been carted away had another not intervened on his behalf. I arrived on the scene to witness an armoured land rover, presumably containing riot squad, a police van , two police cars and a meat wagon, a very large lorry that can hold 15-20 prisoners. This is a total of almost twenty cops at one spot, ten times what we usually have at night during the week while the "students" run riot. What is going on here? Clearly landlords property is so important that vast police resources are committed to protecting it. We have a population of 200 residents and a policing presence at the weekend of at least one cop to every ten residents. Interestingly the one to ten ratio is conventionally what is considered neccesary to defeat a resistance movement. Or, to put it slightly differently, the police are being deployed in the manner of an army of occupation.
It was all in vain. Teenagers from the Ormeau Road ran rings round them and torched a house in Jerusalem Street.
We are not alone in this. Other people support us.

Resident assaulted in Palestine Street

For five weeks they've tortured her with noise. Now she asks them to keep it down. The girl who answers the door of no5 Palestine Street doesn't live there yet takes it upon herself to drag a middle aged woman to the ground and start kicking her in the head. A neighbour comes to her assistance. The assailant flees. The boys who stay there insist they don't know who their houseguest was. Gordon Douglas, the man from Queens, seems more concerned that they've they've just had a window broken than for the victim. One resident tells him,
"We're like the Blacks of New Orleans"
I tell him we're nothing but dogs to that University.

Intimidation

As I walked past he came close and elbowed me then leaned in and whispered
"I'll get the boys for you"
I erupted,
"You just threatened me with paramilitaries!"
We screamed at each other until he stormed up Palestine Street shouting,
"You're making me feel frightened right now"
As I arrived at my front door he stood in the middle of his workmen. I pointed at him and shouted,
"That cunt just threatened me!"
He got into my face and called me out, calling me a coward. I new not to fall for it. He turned to his workmen and said,
" Did you just hear him say he was gonna get me shot?"
To a man and mouse they all said " yes"
Twice during the altercation this happened. He withdrew to no2 . I went home and called the cops. They came out and took my statement.
The next day they tell me he insists he wasn't in Belfast at all and can produce a witness. We all know this is bullshit. The witness turns out to be barely cooperative. The workmen are terrified to say anything. James Devlin is clearly a psychopath.
It is ironic that Douglas Bailie, a rich Protestant, has hired a catholic thug to intimidate residents on his behalf.

I got arrested

It had to happen. You don't stand up to power and not get arrested. They came on saturday morning in an armoured landrover. I have to say they were very civil and not unsympathetic as we chatted in the back of their vehicle. Being charged, processed, taken down to the cells, interviewed, photographed, fingerprinted, DNA'd, none of it was threatening. They were all very friendly. Things really have changed. Others tell me they can't beleive how different it is.
Of course I don't think I have done anything wrong. I beleive my actions are morally correct and am prepared to accept whatever consequences come my way.
Ten days ago the boss builder James Devlin came to my door and threatened me. My response to that was to have a row with him in the street in the course of which I spat at him. I am now being investigated for " common assault" because of the spitting business.
Everyone I have spoken to round here is furious that a resident can be criminalised while at the same time the police do nothing to relieve the torment of this community. Instead, by driving by and doing nothing, they are complicit in the criminal behaviour of bogus students

Undercover Cops

Everybody's clocked them. They've saturated the area. As I passed one of them last night I said,
"Good evening officer"
He turned and then, just before acknowledging me, caught himself, and walked on in silence. Helicopters periodically hover at low altituide right over our heads. It feels like the troubles all over again, except whatever else we had then, it was quiet here. Today people are afraid in their own beds. Most keep a weapon handy. The police are not here to protect us. They protect the property of our oppressors. While bogus students go nuts in the streets, cops scour the area looking for residents who might hit back. The whole community is criminalised because we have refused to be victims any longer.

Update: Douglas Bailey cowardly Holylands Slumlord

He came with a police escort. Five officers drove him up in a van. He was here to inspect his property after irate residents broke into his yard and torched it. The cops were questioning me. Yes, I heard noise, but there's always noise. No, I don't know who did it or all the other retaliations. No, I don't want it to burn, I live next door to it. The truth of the matter is I don't care if it burns to the ground as long as my own house isn't damaged. No wonder he's an Absentee Landlord. The sight of his victims pain repulses him, so he hides behind a property manager.
On Monday he sent the builders back in to torture me.
He seeks power without accountability. He no longer has it.

Shush

I think someone in the PR department in Queens must have had a Freudian Slip when they dreamed up the "Shush" campaign. It's not just that "students" mockingly shout the word "Shush" to each other as they holler down the street at 3am, It's what it reveals about the attitude of Queens towards the nightmare of the Holylands. What they really mean is "shush", Don't tell the truth. And lo our spokesman, David Farrell complies, and tells the world on television what a great job Queens is doing in our community. Ben Preston, God's own Student Union President regurgitates what Queens and Jesus tell him.
" This is part of our partnership with the residents in the area."
How can you have partnership between the rapist and the victim? I'll elaborate on this later when I'm less tired, but suffice it to say this is the privately owned and privately run campus for the Universities, and the population had to be got rid of somehow. If you're wondering how, ponder this quote from Moshe Dayan,
"They (the West Bank Palestinians) must understand that they are nothing but dogs. Whoever wants to go can go. As for those that stay, we'll have to find a way of dealing with them"
I will not insult the Palestinians by comparing our pain with theirs. Our children are not being shot in the head, our women are not having miscarriages at checkpoints, we are not being shelled and bombed continuously, our land is not being stolen at gunpoint.
And yet the rape of this community is still ethnic cleansing, and we are nothing but dogs to the universities, and our pain is there to be silenced

The Writing on the Wall

This appeared on the walls in June.

Residents assaulted in Rugby Avenue

I've delayed posting on this until I could speak to witnesses and participants. Two residents were injured in a frenzied assault in Rugby Avenue on Monday night. One was thrown over a car, another was pinned to the ground. The police were called six times before they came. One "student" was charged with criminal damage, a second with criminal assault on three persons.

The state of siege has begun

The nightmare begins. They were going crazy till 5 in the morning. They've started early. It's enrolement week, so they've no classes to go to, not that they intend to do much of that. Tonight they stood and laughed at a man who told them his kids were trying to sleep. There are no cops to drive by and do nothing and the wardens are nowhere in sight. Welcome to the warzone.

Update: Douglas Bailie compassionate Holylands Slumlord

I told him to put it off 'till the summer. I told him gutting that house now would destroy my health. His answer was to send in the wrecking crew. Demolition drills and sledgehammers work wonders for the nerves. Having said that, despite the effect they're having on me, they're good people who are only trying to earn a wage.
They started last wednesday, right on the deadline before the authorities sealed the building. I think he was trying to give me false hope. So, before my porridge was even out of the microwave, I was on the phone to planning. The chimney was due to come down and that meant that the long awaited loft conversion was on its way. No, he had no planning permission. Yes it was illegal to take the chimney down. Yes his home phone number and the name of his architect were most useful.
By midday the story had changed. The chimney would stay. There would be no loft conversion. There would be three rooms, not the predicted six crammed into a two up two down house.
Later I heard the builder was amenable to lining the walls with foam-backed board to keep out noise, and might even put glass fibre under the floorboards. I hope he leaves no gaps.
Meanwhile they're ripping out the chimney breasts and putting in a beam to prop up the chimney. I'm very tired. I need more sleep.

Update: Holylands sexual assault

I'm quoting the entire content of the leaflet that landed through my letterbox.



"In the early hours of saturday morning, a grotesque attack took place on a young vulnerable woman in 9 Palestine street. The unfortunate woman, who suffers from severe personal problems, was tossed naked from the house on to the street. Shocked and crying, she was laughed at and mocked by her courageous male hosts. She was made to beg for her clothes to hide her shame, but the big brave men inside refused her even this little dignity. Even a remnant of human compassion was beyond them. The landlord who controls the house, Declan Boyle, was informed about the incident. Mr Boyle entered the house and spoke to his student tenants. On leaving the house, Mr Boyle explained the disgusting attack on the victim away thus

"Sure she was a bit of a girl"

Declan Boyle the above statement makes you no better than the filth that perpetrated the attack. Evict them now Boyle, don't protect and shelter them, your sympathy and concerns should be with the victim, not your rat tenants."


I don't doubt that we will be hearing more about this issue

update: Douglas Bailie compassionate Holylands slumlord

"I came here ", he said, "out of concern and compassion, when I heard about that"
He points to the gaping void where his front window used to be.
"Well that's good", I say, all the while knowing that he's only here because the Housing Executive have just served him with an order to seal the building in seven days or they'll do it and bill him.
We're having the "man to man chat" that's been long overdue. I tell him that I have described him as a "Holylands Slumlord" on this blog and that I've published his address and phone number because with power must always come accountability.
"I can't tell you what to do", I say, "but I know what a responsible landlord would do. Take it back to three people, cover every square inch of party wall;the cupboard , the hot press, the bathroom, with foam backed board, put glass fibre under the floorboards, and delay your building work until the summer."
He likes none of this. He starts trying to pull it apart.
"The building has to be gutted. It's not safe"
" You ask building control, they were out here. If it was that bad they would have had it sealed within twenty four hours then taken action to have it pulled down"
"What am I supposed to do then?!"
"Put steel shutters on it"
Of course he's more concerned about losing rent than any thing else
I call over my neighbour Sharon and she tells him the nightmare his tenants have put me through, how the stress of them put me in hospital.
"I was on a drip for three days, Douglas. I nearly died of pneumonia. That doesn't happen by accident. I couldn't sleep with the noise. I couldn't eat with the stress"
Sharon asks him to put professionals in. He says it's all students here. We point out the professionals three doors down, two doors up, across the street. He knows if he puts students in he won't have to pay rates on his property, a very nice little earner.
Sharon has to go. She leaves us to it. He doesn't want to cut the numbers in his house down.
"What's the difference between three and four?"
"Peace! You see that house on the other side of me? It has three people in it, and only ever girls or girls and boys together. In sixteen years I've never had a problem with that house. Now that's a responsible landlord"
He has no answer to that. He offers his hand.
"I'll have the house sealed tomorrow. I don't want you feeling vulnerable."
That was Thursday. It's now Monday night. The property is wide open front and back.

Young woman sexually assaulted by students

Last night the "students" in No9 Palestine Street sexually assaulted a young homeless woman. According to witnesses she was dragged naked out of the house and tossed into the street. The "students" then shouted abuse at her while laughing. When informed of this today, the landlord,
Declan Boyle, was heard to comment,
" I hear she's "a bit of a girl" ".
Retaliation from residents was swift and many windows were broken in the house. Boyle was seen boarding them up this evening. The rage among residents is palpable and many now see the house as a target.

Special Policing for Landlords Properties

I met the Alley Police last night. They're on till 5 or 6 am. Officially their job is to tackle a spate of burglaries. I find this strange because as I have previously stated over eighty percent of the properties are currently vacant, so what exactly is there to steal? I beleive the real reason is to protect landlords properties from vandalism, whether from kids or irate residents. Thus property is priveleged over the rights of the community itself.
What do I mean by this? Well the local district commander, Trevor O'Neill insists that the torture of this community by drunken "students" is not criminal behaviour. Thus smashing bottles in the street is OK, bouncing footballs off peoples windows and roofs at 4am is OK, kicking in doors is OK, playing hurley with beer cans in the middle of the night is OK, urinating out of windows is OK, catastrophic noise at all hours is OK, intimidating families and pensioners is OK. Trevor O'Neill has insisted to me in a public meeting that he will not prosecute "students" who have been "disciplined" by the universities because he considers such action "unfair". I kid you not.
Instead, the official priority in the Holylands is burglary. Although how you can burgle a vacant house is beyond me.
Thus the property of those who have raped this community is priveleged over the rights of the community that is being raped.
Police do not walk the streets here at night during term-time. After all the torture of this community is not considered a crime. However property seems to posess rights over and above those of people and to confer a special set of rights upon those who own it. It seems that the Holy land landlords are modern robber barons, the rich "students" are above the law and we who live here are nothing but dogs to be kept in our place.

Murder in the Holylands

It's official. The body found in Penrose Street is that of a murder victim. He appears to have died from head injuries. Two men have been arrested and, unusually, the police presence is visible tonight.
This afternoon police were checking which properties were vacant in the area. Right now that's about eighty percent so it does seem like more of a publicity exercise than anything else. They seemed to be uninterested in the gaping hole where the front window of no 2 Jerusalem street used to be or the blood stained duvet hanging out of it.
Still, at least they're seen to be doing something, or other.

New Neighbours Just for You

I clock them right away. Three young bucks in a brand new Ford Fiesta. They're on their mobile. Are they going to drive past? No they're going to reverse back to the house across the street. I watch them swagger as they peer through the windows and letterbox of their new home from home. They see I'm glaring at them. They ask me what I'm staring at. I tell them not to fuck with me. They get into their car and start to drive away then reverse and lower the window.
"Do you know any houses round here for sale"
They're ethnic cleansers. Laird probably sent them special.
"Where would you get the money to buy a house son?"
They ask me to smile. I continue glaring. The leader loses his smile. I ask him where it's gone. He forces it back. Then I smile. It makes no difference. It's all a joke to them. They're moving in to wreak mayhem and they feel utterly immune.
Only the strong survive here. I have to find the strength within me. It's either fight or die,and the stress of living here has already nearly killed me. Pneumonia doesn't happen by accident

Douglas Bailie, Holylands Slumlord

I walked right into him. I was exiting the back of his house.
"Hello", I said
"What are you doing here?"
"Hokin' n' pokin'"
"What!!?"
"You see I've had Building Control out to this house, and they've been on to the Housing Executive, and they're gonna issue you with a seven day notice to seal the building or they'll do it for you"
He's sweating.
"The Building will be sealed next week."
"It's been left wide open for over a month"
"I know that"
"You do realise that people have been looting the building. Come with me"
He follows my curled finger as I lead him through his own property.
" This place is a fire hazard. Building control were furious"
I point to the open loft access hatch.
"If another fire starts it will it'll go straight through that"
"And then", he agrees, "It'll spread across to your roof"
I show him where the floorboards have been ripped up.
"Someone's been stealing your copper piping. I came in here after the fire. The hot water tank was gone. The Radiators had been knocked off the wall.
" Do you think someone was covering their tracks by torching the place?"
" I don't know"
We walk outside. I show him where looters have jemmied the back door open.
"Laird was supposed to seal the place after the fire. I told his man the yard door had been ripped off again, but you can see where it's completely rotted out. A child could have done it."
The yard door has disappeared. Only the frame remains, held together with dry rot.
"This property has been wide open for at least eighteen months. That's when it was burgled. Laird didn't secure it after that. I called the cops out a year ago because people were coming and going. The fellas last year were locked out the front so they would go in the back. I'm assuming it was still unsecured. It's a Friday. It's the weekend. can you make some effort to seal the place?"
"All the workmen have gone home"
I look at him .
"It's very dangerous"
"There's nothing I can do"
He makes some excuses, then the conversation moves on.
"I'm gonna start gutting the place on Monday. Then I'm gonna get some tenants in."
I see where his priorities lie.
"It'll be a lot of work", I say.
"Yeah", he looks hurt, "she's completely destroyed"
He changes the subject.
"Were there problems with the last tenants?"
"Laird's been putting scumbags in there for years. That house has destroyed this street. There was a family just there. They left. There was a family across the street. They left. That house has destroyed my health. I'm not a well man"
"Well I don't want bad tenants in. I don't want to be an Absentee Landlord"
This is the first time he has taken an interest in the house in six years.
"Even if it's a matter of me calling with you every couple of months"
"Do you have a number I can contact you?"
"Just get in touch with Laird. I find he's very good"
"Well he hasn't been good to me. He makes the usual promises, but in the end, nothing"
He moves swiftly on.
"Although, now the universities are accepting ownership of the problem and taking responsibility for their students"
I beg to differ, explaining how the wardens can get the universities to do nothing but issue a reprimand, Gordon Douglas, the man from Queens probably means well, but acheives nothing for us, and dealing with Anne Monaghan, the vampire from Jordanstown was truly horrendous.
He's backing away. I offer my hand.
"Alan"
"Douglas"
He never did tell me his surname. I made sure to find out. I even know his address. I left him voicemail. He hasn't got back to me. I wonder why.