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(en) Britain, classwar party: Dear Middle-Class Cunts… --- A text circulated recently by a Londoner as a critique on the Dalston ‘Vibe’ development:

Date Thu, 24 Mar 2016 13:56:56 +0200

Dear Middle-Class Cunts… ---- A lot of you are genuinely non-plussed at the hostility you face when you move into a working-class neighbourhood. ---- ‘But we bring much-needed investment, contribute to the economy, employ local labour, and diversify the community!’ – you cry as you move into your new Georgian conversion, buy-to-let another council flat for your kids, or invest in a shiny new development built on the demolished housing estate of people you’ve never met. ---- Well, this video might give you a clue why. It’s the blonde blandness with which you whitewash London’s streets for investors in homes no-one else can afford to buy. ---- [the cuntish video promoting Dalston Vibe…] ---- The corporate chain stores that follow your insatiable desire for the consumption of luxury goods that is the only reward for your meaningless jobs. The rip-off hairdressing salons and vintage clothes shops that satisfy your long-awaited conversion to East End hipsterdom.

The artisanal bakers, ethically-sourced wholefood stores and upmarket supermarket chains that price out the street markets on which the local community relies to feed and clothe their kids. The luxury flats that leap up overnight to accommodate the latest brood of future hedge-fund managers you keep inflicting on this world.

The estate agents that spring up like poppies on graves around the homes of people evicted to make way for you. The crap music with which you pollute the air to advertise the latest bit of useless technology making your lives even more vacuous.

The home-county tourist’s vision of London to which every pub, shop, park, music venue and street market within reach of your bulging wallets must conform. The commercialisation and banality that follows in your wake like a fucking virus, killing everything it touches.

The unthinking, unblinking, money-worshipping sense of entitlement with which your braying voices transform a community you could never begin to understand into a knocking shop for the highest bidder – which is always you you you.

Fuck off, you’re not welcome, and one day the streets you bought will run with the blood of your children.

Plus: latest on the Dalston Vibe backlash

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