Thursday was the first of May. May Day the time where all workers around the world would unite and vent their fury at what they saw was wrong. When I see the damp squib that entered London three days ago things felt seriously wrong. Numbers were getting lower, their excitable posturing and manic attire could not disguise the horrible truth. With numbers this low it was not difficult for the police to surround and pen in the mob. Police who have gone so far from their original roots that Mr Robert Peel (Yes I know he was a Tory git at times but he did have his good points) would be probably drilling a hole in his grave. But this is not about the police; it is about the shrinking mass in our capital. Rewind three years, to happier times when the establishment felt a very large pain in its backside. I know what you thinking, ah yes, good times indeed. They were good times, all across the world; people were waking up to what was really going on. The cruel tyranny of the new world order was coming into full focus with the letters IMF and WTO on the lips of all those concerned. The battle of Seattle showed to what could be achieved in the face of increasing coercion and control from the state. Then came 9/11 and to those in charge anyway, everything changed. Those words of 'he-who-should-be-named' (Due to the fact that he is a f****** p******) "if you fund or support a terrorist, your a terrorist" signalled a grim new dawn. I see it as my greatest fortune that I live on this side of the Atlantic than the other. For all I can see before me behind its great facade of joy and plenty as a land of poverty, division, fanatisisman suppression. You are right in saying here isn't exactly much better, but at least it is. Every bad thing you can name about this country (I know an enormous generalization but, as a simple rule of thumb, it seems to work), you can imagine it to be worse over there. Just think media and you might agree (Or then again you might not). So back to today, and the muted events that took place three days ago. Two tower-sized pretexts gave the enemy all it needed to put a hole below the water line in this movement of yours. All however was not lost, with all sympathy relating being literally blown away in a matter of months. Then 18 months, out of the ashes a new movement emerged, thriving on indignant but positive energy, it grew, flourished and all but died. Killed of by media brutality and that cruellest of all feelings, patriotic sentiment. A friend's words, 'you've got to support the boys' swung the final blow. The feeling of actually knowing those fighting eclipsing all feelings towards peace. A million voiced no and still the guns raged into the night. That cruel aftermath that we witnessed, the looting, the hunger, the fanatics. All to displace one despot where there exists a hundred more. I fear for the future, new threats emerge where there have been none. New people, same old lies. Syria, Korea, Zimbabwe even, all crusades in the making with potentials never far behind. And what when war is declared, the same old marches by the same old marchers. Ignored as another passing trend, yes I fear for the future. Hope is not lost; as God (aka G. Orwell) said, "hope lies in the proles,” I say hope lies in the youth. Perhaps the lost generation will be no more as a new consciousness awakes from the slumber of trite and vacuity. I started this piece bleak and went grimmer still. But I end in hope, for this I pray is the nadir. Those who saw the light I hope do not let it pass them by like a monthly trend. There will already be those that have, I do not doubt that, but for others, let there be a seed planted in their minds. A seed as large as any in a creedless multitude of souls. Let this seed grow the fruits of love, peace, humanity, justice, and above all, hope.