He wrote his first draft of the movement’s manifesto. His daughter was watching Eastenders and asked him what he was doing.
“I’m writing a manifesto for a non-existent movement” he told her and she smiled that smile that reminded him of his futility. He read the manifesto back to himself and thought it needed a few tweaks here and there but over all he was happy with it, this manifesto for The Reclaimers, which went:
“This land is our land and we have come to reclaim it. Show us deed or covenant and we will reject them as fraudulent, for your authority is false and your power is arbitrary.
We recognise no legal statute nor abstract moral claims to ownership, for we recognise no boundary be they geographic, economic or cultural. All these invisible and divisive parameters are but camouflage, created to disguise the corrupt and criminal theft of our common birthright. No hand can claim overlordship and no seal can confer dominion. Our mission is simple and our methods are sound;
We walk where we walk and we camp where we camp.
No inch of territory is to be denied us, no occupier can contain us. We will not offer physical resistance to any violent response by those who claim ownership. We accept that the cabal of aristocrats and industrialists with their massed ranks of clergy and military, their judiciary and their police, their propagandists and their treacherous yeomanry will do everything in their power to bully and besmirch us.
These parasites, who feed from the land, will misinform and agitate against us, use their cowed media sycophants to stir up hostility and hatred for our cause but they are mere serfs and whores protecting the land grabbers and the money launderers. Filthy sophists and venal opportunists who bleed the land dry yet promote themselves as protectors, as custodians and safekeepers for an imagined identity.
There is no England, no Britain, no Europe, no nation, no race, no religion; only the abstract laws, codes and customs of a self-elected oligarchy, a self-appointed priesthood, a self-serving elite of wealth dividers inventing a mythical history and preaching a perverted morality to ensnare and disempower the masses. A system that worships death and the sacrifice of children to uphold its artificial structure, that inflates its supposed virtues yet denies these same qualities at the same time.
We uphold the right of each and every person to be the master of their own identity.
The monarch of their own kingdom. The God of their own conscience.
This land is our land and we have come to reclaim it!”
He read it to his daughter and she just shrugged, called him a weirdo and tapped away at her laptop. He read it to his wife who asked him how many people were in this invented movement. He replied ‘none’ as it was entirely fictional. She said the first thing the papers would do is park their reporters in the garden or in the yard or even the home of anyone daft enough to propose such a campaign. If all land was up for grabs then why not the land of those who demand it from others, even if that land was not even theirs but only a tenancy or was reliant upon an unpaid loan? He knew she was right and said that’s why he’d included the bit about the media acting as propagandists. It was all in his head anyway, it wasn’t a real manifesto or a real movement, even if he wished it was. She dried the glasses on the draining board and placed them away in the cupboard. “Corry’s on in ten minutes” she said and walked back into the front room, leaving him re-reading it in the winter half-light.