Or, Why Climate Change Is Funny.

Last week, a group of far-right activists broke into the Capitol. They scaled walls, smashed windows, and broke through the perimeter fence. Once inside, they wandered, slightly aimlessly, around the buildings; some strolled through the famous corridors like confused tourists, whilst others rushed towards the Senate Chamber and attempted to take control. One man, dressed as a pirate, posed for a picture in the chair of the Senate President. Another man, wearing a “Trump” bobble hat, stole a lectern. Shots were fired. People panicked. …


(NOTE: I was recently complaining to a friend about how expensive and inaccessible so much of academia is. She asked me whether all my work was available for free. Which was a fair point. Basically none of it is. Although a couple of films are floating about online and I always try to make my shows accessible to everyone. Anyway, as a very small contribution, I thought I should publish an essay I wrote on late Chartist poetry. A lot of the poems in this piece have never been written about before. Predominantly written by unknown working class poets, their…


Vladimir Morozov, Extinction Rebellion

It is always difficult to measure the success of a protest. Political change is complicated. It does not just happen in the corridors of parliament; it happens in our homes and on our streets. It takes hold of our hearts and of our minds in ways unimaginable. It does not compel people to act so much as it persuades people to dream.

Last year, the United Kingdom became the first country in the world to declare a climate emergency. In just six months, Extinction Rebellion had seemingly achieved the first of our three demands. We had grown from a small…


When Hurricane Sandy hit New York, there were people who needed food. There were children who needed clothes and grandparents who needed blankets, houses that needed to be repaired and roads that needed to be cleared. So, people did what people always do — they learnt to survive.

Whilst the National Guard closed their offices, members of the Occupy Movement were handing out clothes in the pouring rain. Volunteers worked through the night to cook meals for the victims of the hurricane. They sorted through tins of beans and piles of blankets. They started to rebuild the city.

Of course…


Dear everyone.

This is a love letter to Extinction Rebellion.

A movement that I devoted the last year of my life to. Lost jobs over. Got arrested with. Put everything on hold for. A movement that I believed in. A movement that believed in me. A movement that changed the debate. And that now needs to change.

It is also a letter addressed to those who have criticised us. An apology. A response. And, ultimately, an invitation.

Credit: Snowflake Foxtrot, Extinction Rebellion

I know that some of my friends will find this letter far too critical. Others will find it far too lenient. Either way…

Sam J Knights

writer, actor, activist, clown | writing about imagination, revolution, and the end of the world

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