Utopia was a work in progress

It was a warm and damp late July the trespassers of the fountain stood looking out across the shoddy waste land that had stood between them and a clean get away, their bags all full with brass scraps of metal, between the four of them they had around £35'000 worth of the finest and most demanded precious metal, this may seem a lot but in their future destitute world in which finance and capital had lead to destruction this was barely enough to feed their family. Yet they could trade the same amount for all the greatest technological gadgetry the modern world possessed, but alas, you cannot eat gadgetry and at this moment in time society had still not mastered the incredible miraculous idea's of abundance of food for all.
The leader of this rag and bone outfit was the noble spirited and gracious heir to the throne of the common heritage, although technically this meant nothing because in his modern world there was no throne, this common heritage which I speak of was from the days of old, Grandie as he was known to the men only found out about his heritage when he was in his early twenties, this was in the old day's of the civil disorder that led to the current state of things.
This my friends is the story of history as they knew it. My name is Blackout.
Sitting down at the end of the night around the warm fire each of the men began to open his newly found treasure and distribute it among each other so they could each have a look at what each had. Amongst this treasure was a rare sculpture of a tiger cast in bronze, the man to whom this belonged to was Hawkys, he was a large square fellow with a solid build, he passed it around the circle of bandits and listened as the others congratulated him on such a find. “what here be this my buddy, is it some sort of mangy moggy?”
'Nay brother, that there be a tiger, one of those old fashioned animals that collectors used to talk about” with Grandies word being the final say on matters like this the men continued their rummage and chatter. In that moment just as hawksys was getting back his prize, quick as a flash the men jumped up and mooned their arse cheeks at the passing auto state camera patrol wagon. The state knew all about each of the men, this was their way of getting to personally know them back, they did not follow old state law.
The regular meetings of the men had took place in a back road of a post long war weapon yard, for most of the men this war had taken place when they were just babies, and in some cases not even born. Now a days the yard was left derelict; a large grey industrial area with small patches of green growing in the cracks of the old brick work, some of it had completely out grown the structures and contributed to the collapse of walls and rooftops. A little distance from the road was a small structure built for the purpose of storing chemicals for weapon manufacture; after the war the citizens had created the no weapons pact, this also led to the no government pact and finally the no property pact. Each of these failed in their true purpose, as is nearly always the case with collective structures of hierarchy. Now the building was used as the perfect hide out for Grandie and the men.
It was on this cold night, that the men began to discuss the situation as it was for each of them, most of the men where living in camps a short walk away. Each of them had families to take care of and in most cases they looked after the other families who where living in the camps. The camps had formed after the fall of the city and the rioting that came along shortly after the no government pact. Some people had stayed on and quarrelled amongst themselves on matters of sociological imagination and after a while an idea would be taken up and after a further while it would lead to some far fetched situation, often at the cost of life. Some cases small civil war's broke out, compared with the original war these were mere primitive gang fights fought out in the name of male dominance. As most of the men were babies at the time of the original war they had developed different mentalities towards these scuffles, they where each able to see the error's of such disruptive behaviour, there main concerns where focused towards a co-operative survival, they believed in the concept of “do unto others as you would have them do unto you” this wasn't to suppose the camps didn't have an hierarchy of sorts amongst the people, but these were formed on basis' of those with strong leadership and a solid sense of oneself in and amongst the community. It was all for one and one for all, occasionally fights would break out and in such cases, (most of these fights would be amongst males) a ring would be formed and a fair fight would ensue to settle the dispute, the outcome of these fights would be a handshake and an acceptance of the result. If one man could stand his ground against a stronger man and hold up his bravery for all those watching his pride would not be hurt and afterwards they would be reconciled with the anger successfully eliminated. However rare these fights may have been amongst the women, occasionally it did happen, a lot of the men frowned upon the fighting woman, mainly because it was often a more viscous affair, and often the women would refuse to acknowledge the other until at least two or three day's after the whole affair. Despite these outbreaks of violence amongst the people of the camps; life was often peaceful and plentiful.
“Did anyone see old Maggies mural she painted? Took her three month to complete it, the kids seem to love it” marked hawksys
“aye an a bloody lot of muck used to paint the thing, I shouldn't moan though, the place needs brightening up, I liked the earth drawing she did, upon the tile thingy, ya know the one”
“aye”remarked potswald, looking at lawry.
The men considered these art works as a future story for those that will come after them. One of the aims of their community was to leave a legacy of images and writing for future generations to learn from and understand the causes of the social breakdown that had came before them.
lawry had came to the camp with a couple of women who had been working in one of the old state rebreeding programs, he had helped the women escape and spent the next 6 months living with them in an old abondoned midway point, these points had stood as mini border patrols during the old war, now they were left to nature. When they first arrived at the camp each one of them looked in a pitiful state, the two women looked as though they wouldn't survive the next week, but slowly and with the aid of others in the community they where brought back to full health and stories of the old war were exchanged between the women and lawry was recruited by Grandie to go on the daily raids. One of these stories was the tale of an old Marshall who used to artificially inseminate the women, the lady in question had known the Marshall previously and they began a relationship, unfortunately for her though this was against the state law and she was soon punished for this, the Marshall kept his position but poor Maggie was sentenced to 30 days in solitary, this is how she met lawry, he too had been sent into solitary for refusing to follow an order. He started out as a foot soldier for the old state but refused to go along with some of the doctrine the state had declared. Eventually his constant moral outbursts brought him to the state solitary blocks where he met Maggie and escaped.
“Did you here that rumour about the other captured woman?” exclaimed Hawksys, “Aye, and I know where she is too” marked lawry.
“when me and the girls where out in the old state buildings there was some sort of internal bureau fighting going on between the intellects and the carers, apparently a band of female carers had planned to have that Dawkins fella executed, he was one of the main contributors to the intellects and some say he was behind some of the worst atrocities, anyhow as it goes these ladies paid a ruthless female assasin to take him out. She failed and the poor wretch was imprisoned in an old watch tower just east of here”
“what do you reckon grandie?” asked a shy and quiet Potswald “You buying into any of theses old state myth's.”
“Well it's a strange old world, a lot of crazy things happen in those old state camps, I once heard of a russian woman who was brought in, could be something to do with the story, you know how these tales catch the wind, some sort of nuclear physicist brought in to work on that energy core they protect so dearly, rumour was she went missing. I hear she had some knowledge they didn't want getting out. I hear bits and pieces here and there, but most of it I let slip past me for want of the simple life, but if there in-deeds be a woman locked up in some state ran tower then I would gladly put my name down for the rescue.” “here here” cheered all the men, each one of them had the hero mentality from years of escape from tight situations and a deep ingrained feeling of them against the world, or as they saw it, them against the state.
The night was getting closer and each of the men sat in silence, pondering about simple things and the most complex of things, back then my heart was still part of the sea. Since the troubles had began I had spent my time sailing the world. Life was easy for me being a man of the sea, I could catch my own food and I had all the water one could possibly need, but as circumstances usually do, things had to change for me. I had been at sea for close to 30 years, just sailing around the world time and time again, stopping occasionally in different parts, they all looked the same; Islands with nothing but remnants of the old capitalist system, the birth of globalisation did an amazing job at turning the world into one giant city of the same shops, the same people, and the same split among humans. Those who had it all, and those who wanted it all.
I had grew tired of watching fishermen raking all life from the water. My senses could take no more of mankind's senselessness, I cried as the streets began to run with blood, all the schisms of the past 200 years began coming to life, fascists, fundamentalists, scientists of all kinds, conservationists extremists, and finally my firm favourite terrorist. I always liked that one the best, it was the enemy of them all, yet each and everyone of them were just the same as the so called terrorist. The first time I met Grandie he remarked to me that all those who despised terrorist's caused terror where ever they roamed.
My ship was built on nuclear fission and would run for another 100 years or so if needed, but my water tablet supply was not sufficient for another month. I landed in the nearest port, an old industrial wasteland somewhere in the north east of England and armed myself before taking foot out into the unknown new world.
I walked for day's until I stumbled across one of the camps, it was a beautiful sight amongst the ruins of the world. Creations of colours lined along the wire fence, with murals painted on any grey concrete space, the women stopped to stare at me and then just went about their business. I looked around but no sign of any males.
After spending the day wandering round the camp and talking to the women I was to find out about Grandie, to these people he was there king, he was worshipped and trusted with their lives.
I soon came to see that many of the peoples in the camps could not write, but they had learnt to read from bits and pieces and from experience of writings around them; at the back of the camp was an old block house that reminded me of an ancient archive; in it was thousands upon thousands of books from the old days, I would spend many a day in there learning. Eventually Grandie heard of the stranger amongst his people and came to see me.
I was initiated and asked to narrate the story of his people for all future generations. Other than author of the tale of these people, my purpose is to entertain, each night just as the sun is setting and the children are tiring out from their endless games around the camp, the whole community would gather round a giant fire in the centre of the camp and I would be honoured in telling them tales of my journeys. Some times they are true tales of my own experience and other times I entertain those around me with a classic tale I have memorised from my reading's.
This had been Grandies idea to bring some of my worldly knowledge to the ears of the younger generation.
One night in particular I was attending to the tale of Anansie the spider when out of my eye I saw something shifting around in the woods just behind the fence, I peered out to see if I could make out anything with my eyes but the shadows just seemed to disappear. After I had finished my story I mentioned my sighting to Lawry, who noted that I shouldn't take no notice of the shadows lurking out side the fence, but instead keep a watchful eyes on the shadow's within the fence. I took this piece of warm advice and started off on the way to my made up home in the old block house. That night I had a terrible dream, I watched a young lion being devoured by its own father, but then a hunter came along and shot them both, as I laid there contemplating the death of the two creatures at the hands of the hunter, whom I had now become, as real as any day time reality I turned the hunting rifle on myself and pulled the trigger. My mind became emptiness for a split second and I awoke in the deepest sweats since I contracted jungle fever on my exotic travels.
The next day I was awoke by loud gunshots and panic, a herd of wild dear had trampled through the camp causing chaos all around. The men had already risen and armed themselves and began firing shots into the air to scare off the herd. Such a large herd of wild dear can be a pretty frightening experience. A large buck with horns about 2 foot wide was charging idiotically into the shiny colourings used on the wall muriels; watching this scene I could see the poor animal blatantly attacking the art made at the hands of the people who were of the same spirit of the people who had annihilated his people. Without the buck knowing he had a deep anti human instinct and this rampage through their place of dwelling was almost like a show of strength.
Within ten minutes it was finished, the camp was left sagging under the weight of ruin, tin sheets used as makeshift storage houses were left crumpled and trampled across the dusty roads. One lucky hunter had managed to shoot a large buck and the children were already surrounding it with their knifes arguing over first cut. I sat and watched as the hunter tore at the dear's flesh and cut out the insides and threw them towards the small gathering of stray dogs and cats, a small battle ensued.
The sun was already showing signs of a warm day, and with the sounds of morning birds and children's chatter I stretched back to lay for a moment and examine my hectic morning, a flash thought entered my mind of the shadows at the fence the night before.
Trembling as the breeze swayed round me; I looked around and admired the spirit of these noble people, after such destruction still they smiled and had a reason to be joyful. That day I felt the unity and spirit among the people who have came through hell and onto the other-side of a vast world waiting to be rebuilt with the common unity these people share.
I left the scene and wandered down to the fresh water stream that flows through the camp site, it was still early morning and many of the people had gathered for the daily bath, I plunged in and felt the freezing cold water all through my bones. By now the sun was beginning to shine and the bird song was playing out loud across the skies. I looked across towards the outer forest and saw Grandy returning from an early morning hunt with hawksy.
“good morning gentlemen” I shouted out.
“Was there much up and about this fine day?”
“Nay” replied Hawksys, “Just a few of those tree climbing rodents, I nearly got one but then I heard a huge commotion so we ran back, whats been happening?”
“A herd of deer ran riot through the camp, trying to smash anything and everything up in their path”
“we were hunting in the wrong forest this morning my friend” replied Grandy.
“Not to worry though someone got one” I said as they both approached the stream.

To be continued ..............