A week or so ago, there was a really long winded article in the Guardian about the resurgence of Marxism in popular culture. I only got half way through – it was hard going, a bit unclear and, well… boring. But it seemed to be of the opinion that the new found popularity that dear old Marxism is experiencing is a good thing, something to be celebrated. Something that will eventually lead to some sort of political shift and the ultimate demise of capitalism.
I’m all for a proletariat uprising, but lets face it, there isn’t going to be one. Even the most hardcore socialist drinks in Starbucks. Boris Johnson was voted back in as Sheriff Supreme. The Occupy movement disappeared from national focus. Tesco have been largely let off the hook for their part to play in exploiting the unemployed. All in all, nothing revolutionary is happening.
The fact that Marxism is fashionable – well, that’s exactly what it means, it’s just fashionable. Stranger things have been hijacked by the in crowd. Knitting. BDSM. Phony Dickensian accents. These fads come and go. Topshop will be selling “Karl is my Homeboy” t-shirts tomorrow, but they’ll be half price in the mid-season sale by the end of the month.
It’s sad, but all this egalitarian hype is 100% rhetorical. There was more interest in the annual Marxist Festival this year, but I’m certain that when it comes to revolutions, we’re all tweet and no action.
Musings of Becky Shepherd