Cotton Ward

Went to R’s place. He cooked a veggie dinner for an ever-increasing number of guests, including his three flatmates – some people didn’t like certain ingredients and he coped with it all, making it look easi peasi.

“I can’t eat a thing cos I’ve been eating all day. My flatmate went dumpster diving and now we’ve got a year’s worth of crumpets!”

“So you’ve brought some passion pop along?”
“Yeah, in my Holden stubby holder.”
“Oooh – culture jamming it!”

We read through a comprehensive outline on “What to do if the cops turn up” and went over the “Letter to Neighbours” again.

“First, close the door, slip a note under it that explains our objectives and tells them we’re only staying there for a week.
“If they try to ram the door down, we’ll say we’ve got someone chained to the back of it.”
-“Could we try to divert them by saying we’re going to blow up the Harbour Bridge?”
“Nah – we’d need to have someone standing at a public phone box for hours so they couldn’t trace the calls.”
“They have enough resources to send the TRG to several places at once.”

“We’re not to spell out that the building’s squatted – we’re still trying to contact the new owner to get permission to hold the conference there.”

“Do we need to warn everyone about how the surrounding streets sometimes have homophobic people hanging around?”
“Yeah – a bloke got killed by gay bashers just a block away.”

R showed us where he had earlier lopped off the tip of his finger.
“You should get it treated quickly cos there’s an angry red line running down your arm – it could be a creeping infection.”
This lead to a discussion about whether or not to stamp everyone’s arms when they arrive at the dance party.
“If we do, we can question them about whether they support our ideals.”
“But if we stamp them and then realise they’re inappropriate later, they could use the stamped arm to try to get back in again.”
“Better not stamp, then.”
“Just check if they’re wearing a watch – if they are, we could ask a few questions.”
[But several of us are wearing watches and others have their mobiles on the table with the time displayed.]
“We could stick a list of our ideals up on the wall.”

A bloke who’s a fireman suggested we should nick fire blankets from institutions.
-“I have a moral problem with that. It endangers lives.”
“We could do it at unis now while the students are on holidays.”

K’s article in the QR conference zine describes the Legal Group [us] as being “the coolest people to hang out with”.
“What??!! That just tells us you were stoned when you wrote it.”

B had brought about 500 euros from the Amsterdam QR and we need it as part of our total budget of about $6000.

“We would only squat buildings that are abandoned while a company decides when to demolish them. We wouldn’t squat a house my Mum was going to sell with new owners moving in a week later. It’s not worth it.”

“Don’t you resent the fact the government can dictate when and where we can gather?”

“I’ve contacted all the indigenous people I know and they’re not interested in coming. Why apologise [because no queer indigenous people are coming]?”
-“I can’t argue with you about that now – I’m brain-dead from doing 10-hr days. I can argue about it in two weeks’.”

“I’m sick of hydroponic. Wish I could get some North Coast.”

“I went crazy – licking, rimming, fucking everyone I could. I turned yellow. Felt like I was going to die for six weeks. It was Hep A. The good thing is you can’t get it twice.”

”This bloke, he didn’t do any drugs. Then he went wild. Began selling drugs. Gave up his medical degree. Disappeared for a year. Then turned up again as an ASIO informer.”

“I won’t be able to DJ – I’ll be too tired.”
-“You need pills.”
“I can’t if I want to be responsible.”

“I want to get a tattoo – a rose. But I want something a bit unique about it.”
-“Get a dagger through it.”
“Yeah, that’s original. Not!”

”Does anyone know where I can get a clown outfit?”
-“Clown outfits aren’t sexy!”
“Yes they are!! I’m on drunkclownz.com – check it out, but not at work.”

“Let’s meet at Camperdown Park so we can chat openly away from the body-saturated licensed pleasure prisons [pubs].”
Nt suggests we also play a “big bad ‘n’ mad” game of queer catch ‘n’ kiss to celebrate Lupercalia – the original pagan holiday which was replaced by St Valentine’s Day.
“It was celebrated by people clad in leather and loin-cloths running around flogging others with leather whips. You need an attitude of intense silliness and a willingness to make a spectacle,” Nt wrote in his invite.

“I spent the last two nights breaking into nine buildings, but we couldn’t find anything suitable. I needed crutches after kicking in a church door the other night.”
– “That’s GOT to be a mortal sin. You’ll have to do heaps of penance for the next 40 days. Eat fish on Fridays.”
“I can’t – we’re eating vegan all week. No real protein – my bones will go all floppy!”

“We all have to converge tomorrow at 9.30amBT [Bourgeois Time] at Belmore Park, opposite Central Railway Station, then catch a train or walk to the destination. We need at least 100 of us to secure the building. There aren’t many local cops, so they won’t be able to overpower us. They’ll leave us alone if there’s a big crowd.”
“Bring your camping stuff – untensils, sleeping bags.”
“If the police ask us to leave, we’ll make that clear so you can make a choice on whether to stay or go.”
“It’s best not to bring any drugs. If you’re going on Shitty Rail, hide drugs under cayenne pepper or within coffee – the police can take sniffer dogs on trains.”

“I’ll be arriving at the venue with a van, so I can smuggle any drugs. I won’t consume them beforehand. Remember to clearly label them with your name and address!
“We’ll have a PA sound system pumping out music by 1pm and we’ll definitely have disco by 6pm.”

Me and Nt played Catch ‘n’ Kiss.
“Catch me! Catch me!” I screamed, as Nt leisurely ran after me. He grabbed me by the waist, lifted me off the ground and swirled me round in a circle. “Kiss me! Kiss me!” I screamed. And he did again and again!

There were about 30 people in the park by 10am. Waited an extra 15 minutes for more to come and there was a contingent already at the venue.
We’d heard the building had been squatted before for a New Year’s Eve party, and the owner had been pleased about parties being held there cos they wanted to reopen it as a nightclub. The Building Group had heard Development Application searches had been done on it, and there had been nothing mentioned in the council meetings for the past four years.
The entrance was strewn with broken bottles, dust and stank of urine. Went in and all the dust blew in. The two-storey building was dark, huge and glamorous – it had been a former S&M club with many nooks and crannies.

Three bikers had been executed in the building seven years before. There had also been a fire and there were smoke-stained walls and burnt light fittings. It felt spooky.

A Legal/Security person was listening to a police scanner, checking out if the cops were onto us. “They’re mainly talking about domestics and car accidents.”
– “You’re a town planner and I’m a white collar professional. Most of us are accepted in mainstream society – we can afford to hire venues. What are we doing in an airless derelict building with only two flushing toilets and partial electricity?”
“But isn’t it exciting?”
– “What would your Mum say – she thinks you’re on a round-the-world trip?”
“Oh, stop being divisive!”

Four of us were cleaning the bathrooms and were overpowered by ammonia fumes and had to rush out. The floors were flooded in the men’s and ladies. Half the toilets wouldn’t flush.

Someone had accidentally spilt quite a bit of rice upstairs in the food area.

MEETING: The publican next door doesn’t mind us being here, so long as we buy drinx from him. We can hang around and smoke outside his pub.

There aren’t many neighbours – mainly empty buildings. The place next door is a shooting gallery for addicts and is riddled with sharps; the other building is still being broken into so we can use it for accommodation.
Between our building and next door is an upstairs shared door with some aggro neighbours, but locks have been put on it so they can’t get in and hassle us.

Everything was cleaned up and all seemed fine. l went home to sleep.
Logged on to my email a couple of hours later and everyone had been evicted!

MEETING: 9pm Newtown Hotel for a debriefing.
The drama had begun when “a bloke pulled up in a car outside and walked into the building. He walked straight by me – I didn’t know who he was. We didn’t have the front door locked cos we were still taking things in and out. And the door was far too difficult to close – it took about four minutes to ever get it open again.
“He stood in the middle of the room, yelling `Get out, get out, get out!’ I was shaking when I spoke to him – told him what we were about and that we’d only be there a short time, then I offered him money – but he wouldn’t listen. So I yelled: `Everybody come down here now!’ They did. Then I said: `We have to get him out!’
“Then he grabbed a mop and broke it in two and was wielding it like a weapon while he called the police on his mobile.
“Four cops turned up and they watched as we took everything out.
“Then a security guard came and was posted there 24/7. He was nice and took our details so he could pass them on to other people who turned up later, wondering where QR was being held.
“That was it!
“I was pissed off, cos we could have held the building if we hadn’t been so fluffy – we have to be more militant. If the door had of been closed, he couldn’t have got in, and the police wouldn’t have bashed the door down if they’d thought we’d had hundreds of people in there. They would have gone away.”

Resolution: to meet tomorrow at 9am, Belmore Park, to break into a former squat in Homebush that has no electricity or water.
“It’s really difficult when a place doesn’t have water.”

Had a conversation with some interstate younglings who kept asking me to “point out the organisers”.
“There aren’t any – it’s a collective.”
-“I’d love to be arrested. Wouldn’t it be exciting?”
“But you’re s’posed to be squatting for the principles.”
-“But there’s nothing wrong with doing stuff cos it’s exciting. I want to be a renegade!”