Here's one participant's report...

LRT dreamt up a short sharp show called 'What's the Big Deal?' (in part an allusion to the current infestation of carbon emissions traders to be found in the Kyoto process), and took it to the UN and the House of Commons. In it, the UN was personified as a huge blue 'Cloak of Resistance', a beautiful creation with the UN logo and the word 'UNethical' painted on it, worn by one of the actors who was standing on a step-ladder to magnify the effect. Nestling inside the Cloak were the various inhabitants of the climate negotiations: a politician (anxious to be painted as Planet Saviour in the Sunday papers), an oil exec-cum-carbon trader, juggling CO2 with the politician, and a compliant green NGO rep carrying a placard reading 'What do we want?' 'Compromise!' 'When do we want it?' 'In due course!', secretly despairing but not wanting to rock the boat.

The action begins with the cataclysmic sounds of climate chaos (courtesy of the excellent cycle sound system), and the entrance of a destitute refugee who has lost her family in flash floods and is looking for shelter. Approaching the Keeper of ther Cloak, she manages to gain entrance only when she agrees to take a job at the McDonald's also inside the climate negotiations which are taking place within. (McDonald's is one of the corporations that have signed up to the UN's Global Compact, which is a way for very dodgy companies to look good by queuing up to have their picture taken with 'Nes'Kofi Annan.)

The refugee then encounters the NGO-er, politician and trader, asking them what they're doing to save the climate. She interrupts the politician and trader, who are busy buying and selling carbon (here in the form of blue balloons with 'CO2' painted on them!). 'Why is it that commodities like carbon can cross borders when you buy and sell them, but people like me get stuck in detention centres at borders?' she asks. 'You lot are the ones who made my house disappear underwater, and now you're dreaming up ways to make money out of pretending to do something about it!'

At this point the exasperated traders appeal to the UN to have this troublemaker expelled from the Cloak, as she is interfering with their work. Cast out, she collapses for a short while, only to recover enough to ask the audience (what there is of it!) what their suggested solutions to the problem might be. She has a bright, angry idea: to pull off the Cloak of Respectability and see what's really behind it. Hearing this, the UN becomes very anxious (in fact so much so that he appeals to the very real policemen watching the show at the UN and Parliament to have her arrested, which of couse they refuse to do). The refugee then proceeds to strip away the cloak to reveal the seedy truth: the UN stands revealed in a pin stripe suit for all to see. The tricky problem of portraying a solution to the problem, (ie. radical social change and community-controlled energy production) is solved by all present (except the Cloak-inhabitants) having a bit of a knees up to some jolly tunes(!)

So, we performed this show twice at the UN, although its employees declined to pop down to watch it - they only appear to have procedures to come downstairs with police protection and accept petitions, so that ruled us out! The boss on the phone (her upstairs, me in reception) had no conception that anyone politically active might reject the existing structures and institutions as ways to effect change, or that anyone could have a problem with the UN 'engaging' with business.

We then did the show once more outside Parliament, to another select gathering of amused coppers and bemused but interested general publics, and that was it. On the upside, we had a laugh and put down a radical marker on the climate justice issue, on the down, it was time-consuming to pull together and hard to engage passers-by more than to take a leaflet. Actually, for me the best parts of it were someone stopping on their bike, asking for more info and showing some interest in getting involved in the future, a very cool security guard who was right on top of the arguments and as supportive as he as able to be, and three teenagers who wished us well once we'd explained that we weren't from some weird cult(!) and had a valid point to make underneath the jokes and fancy dress.