The cost of clothes

Many of my friends and co-workers are dead

Tucked away at the end of one dissection of the garment industry's unwillingness to adopt any real standards to protect their production workers, there's a piece about a twenty-three year old who was in the Dhaka factory when it collapsed. The story is as you would expect, rice crops failed, father and daughter relocated to earn enough to support the family left behind. Low pay, physical and emotional abuse, unreasonably long hours, unpaid additional hours to fulfil large rush orders.

The last few paragraphs are chilling in their simplicity:

“...suddenly the whole building started to shake. Plaster fell from the ceiling. People started screaming.

“We ran for the exit. But before I could reach the stairs, the floor collapsed under me. I fell and fell. I lost consciousness.

“When I came to, I was in hospital. I heard that fire service rescue workers had pulled me out after eight hours. My right leg is broken.

“Most of my friends and co-workers are dead.”

That last line sends shivers down the spine. There are two ethical concerns: safe, working conditions, and a fair, living wage. This should shame those that recently celebrated the life and legacy of a dead prime minister whose intention was to devastate trade unions. The unions that fought for, and achieved just those ends, decent conditions, and reasonable pay.

Twenty-three years old, and “Most of my friends and co-workers are dead”. 1,127 workers died at Rana Plaza.

Satantango

That was something. After seven hours there's an enigmatic ending, not so much some loose ends, as a total lack of any tied up ends whatsoever. In one of the final scenes, two government clerks concoct a report from one character's handwritten notes. They smoke, snack, type, review, rewrite, for ten or fifteen minutes. Only after they turn off the lights, leave their office and shut the door realisation dawns: they've performed the scene as they would have in the theatre – straight through, albeit with cameras tracking them as they move around. A beautiful, edgy film.

Illmatic

I've been listening to this a lot recently. Talking to MM recently he reminded me that this was Nas' debut album. It has to be one of the best ever first albums.

Big day today...

...starting with a test match so finely balanced it really can go either way, and is likely to be decided, if not concluded, today.

Later we'll find out whether it'll be us or S***s playing in a qualifying round of the Champions' League next year. Nails will be bitten, and there'll be tears before bedtime. Let's hope it's the white and blue replica shirts soaking up the woe.