A Young Person’s Guide to Political Extremism
Fascism won’t turn up dressed
In collar and tie or Sunday best.
It may be smart but not severe,
You won’t have anything to fear.
But it becomes your boring mate
Who only speaks of what he hates,
Who tells you he’s your only brother,
And never should you trust the others.
Fascism won’t keep things clear
While ambiguity breeds fear,
So never will it waste its time
On explanations, reasons, rhyme.
It screws you down in three short words,
Imperious and yet absurd:
“Build back better!”
“Get Brexit done!”
“Believe, Obey, Fight!”
“We…have… won…?”
Fascism knows all too well
That facts will take it straight to hell,
While lies go round the world before
The truth can lock the stable door.
A lie told twice stops being false,
But three times it’s a dose of salts
That shits out more through news, through press,
And wipes its arse on truth’s redress.
Fascism will tell you
That the minor details must compel, you’ll
Feel it slowly crush your soul
By miring you in rigmarole.
You won’t get time to contemplate
The rise of its one-party state,
Its lickspittles, its liars, its whores,
Their laughing disregard for law,
Their crimes that bring society
Not anger but anxiety,
Invisibly eroding hope
Until you just can’t fucking cope.
Their crimes that grind your discontent
To grains of personal dissent,
Till what was solidarity
Is you hate me hate him hate she.
Fascism wields power without
Responsibility or account,
Or financial propriety,
Or honour or integrity.
It wanks itself beneath its clothes,
Tumescent on how much it loathes you.
Power’s bound to cost a lot
When every hour’s a money shot!
But Fascism won’t feel ashamed
Of hate that dares not speak its name,
Of senseless noise we scarcely hear
Through clouds of lies and hate and fear
And sleaze and self-investigation…
…Oh, help us, younger generations,
Beat them, crush them, let them burn,
And we’ll be right beside the bairns!
Mike Stoddart.