My mind is a dark yet colourful place, my tumblr is a space for all those who are quietly crazy. I'm 20 and I suffer from boderline personality disorder. There is a lot of NSFW shit, if you don't like it unfollow me. My name is irrelevant you can call me Tory. pronouns: she, her
Anonymous said: I don't know who Ayn Rand is. Should I change that or just let it lie?
Imagine the baby that would result from a night of passion between Ebenezer Scrooge (before the spirits changed his ways) and Mr. Krabs from Spongebob. Now imagine that baby grew up and married the baby that would result from a night of passion between Yzma from the Emperor’s New Groove and Mr. Burns from the Simpsons. Now imagine the newlyweds had a baby of their own, and that baby was raised aboard a Ferengi Starship, where she was tutored in empathy and compassion by Lord Voldemort. Now imagine that baby grew up and someone told her that any opinions she might have or conclusions she might reach are based on objective logic and reason, and that anyone who disagrees with her is simply being irrational. Now multiply that person’s greed and heartlessness by 100 and you’ll begin to see something that comes close to resembling Ayn Rand.
Remnants of the British Black Panther Party’s Lost Legacy
After the Black Panther Party filled the vacuum left by the death of prominent human rights activists like Martin Luther King and Malcolm X, the movement’s successes inspired others to create their own chapter. In the UK, The British Black Panthers, rather than being politically driven like its US counterpart, aimed for social change within its communities. But due to its brief four-year tenure as London’s resident countercultural grassroots movement, the movement was largely undocumented.
Luckily, Neil Kenlock, one of the group’s core members, took it upon himself to become their photographer, capturing images of their meetings, campaigns, marches, and presence in local communities.
I had a chat with Neil about the British Black Panther movement, and the importance of documenting its legacy.
VICE: How did you become involved with the British Black Panther movement?
Neil Kenlock: Well, I encountered racism when I was quite young—maybe 16 or 17. I went to a club in Streatham, and when I arrived I was told it was full and that I should come back next week. When I returned I was denied again because they didn’t want “my type” in there. I protested that I didn’t see why I shouldn’t be let in. There were, of course, no discrimination laws in those days, so there was no one to tell about this.
And you were never let in?
My friend and I pointed out that we were well dressed, weren’t there to make trouble, and just wanted to enjoy ourselves like other people, so what was the problem? We were told to leave or the police would be called. We wouldn’t go, so they called the police, who then told us that we weren’t wanted in the club and that we should go home. I pointed out we weren’t breaking any laws and the police told us they would arrest us if we didn’t leave. I really didn’t want my parents to have to come to Streatham police station and bail me out, so I left. But, on my way home, I decided that I was going to fight against unfairness and discrimination in this country.
How did you come across the Panthers, then?
Well, some weeks later, I saw a Panther in Brixton giving out leaflets about police brutality and discrimination. I joined them then.