In my class on Marxism, we went around the room introducing ourselves. Some said they were into Marxist theory, but I was the only one who said "I'm a Marxist."

Normally this wouldn't surprise me; I'm used to being the only Marxist. But I knew there were others there, better Marxists & activists than I am. So, there must have been good reasons for being cautious. It could be a violation of academic neutrality to label oneself. By calling myself a Marxist, I throw down the gauntlet towards other disciplines, whereas university is supposed to be a dialogue. Perhaps I'm displaying an unwillingness to engage with different schools of thought.

At the same time, I didn't go back to school to figure out what to learn; I returned to clarify and deepen the premises I already accept. Perhaps school will soften my intellectual rigidity - but I doubt it. That's wage-labour's job: you're supposed to be radical in school, and then accept bourgeois reality when you work. In my case it was the opposite: work removed any lingering doubts I might have had about capitalist exploitation, and the revolutionary potential of the working class.

Back when being a revolutionary student was cool - Paris, May 1968

The incident reminds me of when I was an undergrad, taking a postmodern class on social movements. In a discussion group, political ideologies came up. At the time I dressed in an army jacket, dyed my hair black and thought the revolution was coming soon. So, when asked what politics I followed, I proclaimed, "I'm a revolutionary!"

My group members were taken aback. "You mean you subscribe to revolutionary theories?" one asked.

"No, I am a revolutionary," I said firmly. It was like I was saying I was the reincarnation of Tutankhamen. The idea of anyone being a socialist activist, who thought their activism contributed in some small way to building a revolutionary movement, was completely foreign. Granted, I might explain a little better now. And I'm not such a millenarian as I was; I think a revolution is worth fighting for, but if it's just around the corner, then the wall is as big as the Israeli 'security fence'. But in any event, my group members didn't really talk to me after that. So I understand why one might want to 'test the waters' first. For most people, being a Marxist is the equivalent to being a clown, a Martian, an axe murderer or all three. And academia, as a comrade reminded me, is not about studying how to change the world, but finding a niche obscure enough to get funding. Save the activism for outside the classroom, as my fellow Marxists wisely do.

Ultimately, what you call yourself is way less important than what you do & say. I remember being at an anti-war demo, and witnessing a comment by a young guy debating an older socialist; "You want to know how hardcore I am?" the guy said. "I've got the Vietnamese NLF [National Liberation Front] flag tattooed on my arm!" And indeed he had. However, it was funny that was his idea of 'hardcore' - a picture of a flag.

One day, disaffected youth will get this tattooed on their arms! - a captured NLF flag

I love my tattoo. But I'd never claim it was political activism. It's just a picture. Besides, images get commodified so easily, a fact pointed out to me by my roommate when she bought me some Che Guevara raspberry lip balm. There he was, his famous silhouette on the little jar. Because you know, when you're trying to spark a rural uprising in Bolivia, your lips can get dry pretty fast.

Hardt is not so hard

I saw Michael Hardt speak the other day. Hardt is the co-author of Empire, the famous text on imperialism predicting the 'withering away' of the national state form, to be replaced by international institutions.

Yes yes, we know you're handsome - Michael Hardt

He's young, charismatic and was talking about love. What's not to like about that? A lot: it was just so... noodly. He talked about religion. He talked about globalization. He talked about love and how it should be social, not personal. He suggested how love can be good for social movements, and how it can be badly applied. It was affable, expansive, and in the end, empty. He didn't draw any conclusions. He didn't say who should be doing the loving, or how, except for a brief 'the personal is political' rehash, which I strongly disagree with - I think having to love your fellow activists is a big mistake. He did mention a lot of philosophers. So, I heard wan, warmed-over lifestyle anarchism, hiding behind an erudite wall of words and comforting curly hair. I wish I'd stayed for the reception and at least got a sandwich out of it.

Today I started reading Capital, Chapter One, Volume One, by Karl Marx. This is my fourth attempt. The previous three times, it was like I was reading another language; a strange usage of English I couldn't decipher. Now it makes sense. You just follow Marx's logic, and commodities become use-values, then exchange-values. This makes me very happy.

Art for what sake?

It also makes me leery of art. I've been feeling reductionist lately. I love art, and I love good books, and I think this blog reflects that. But I'm tired of people looking at art, or politics for that matter, as separate from the world. I want to know the root of them, something the Marxist method is very good at discovering. Art, in of itself, means very little to me.

And I'm tired of people thinking art changes the world. Art doesn't change the world, not on its own. That takes masses of people - hopefully inspired by, and creating, art. But right now the masses of people are getting bombed in Iraq, shut out of New Orleans, fighting privatization in Bolivia. These are pressing things to understand in the world. They have to be linked, in a sophisticated way, to the structures of society that produce them: private property and capital.

Art as a reflection of struggle - IRA mural, Belfast

Do we have 'time' for art? Yes... and no. Culture - in its older definition, the social development of a class, people or nation - is vital to understand and influence. Gramsci understood this: culture is one of the spheres where socialists intervene to popularize and reflect their own participation in struggle. So art, as cultural production, can be vital. But often it's not; often it's just the artist thinking s/he is acting alone in reflecting the world, replicating all the bourgeois thought patterns s/he claims to be subverting. And claiming it's political action, which pisses me off most of all. Art does nothing on its own. It is inspiration, reflection, rallying point - of a wider mass movement. Or it's art for art's sake, just nice to contemplate. That's fine, but let's not give it any broader significance.

Art as a reflection of fuck-all - Robert Bateman and his charming animals

Please forgive my vulgar materialism. It's just a phase.

Yeah baby

Finally, I bought a Nehru suit today.

You'd need plastic hair to keep it looking that good

OK, it's not as flashy as that one - mine's in olive green, without pin-stripes - but it is vintage, and it brings me a step closer to mod status. Which is very important, for reasons I can't articulate at the moment.