The fliers for the Chinese art exhibition are appearing all around Northampton University this morning. I saw one as soon as I walked in to start doing some research for the fourth chapter of my dissertation.
Well, fine. We all go to Hell our own way and they have made their choice. Collaboration with the bloody occupier of Tibet, whose murderous behaviour, and whose attempted erasure of Tibetan culture and religion, runs so far back in recent history it even predates the birth of this cranky grey-haired old blogger.
I would post stats around the building about the number of people who've died under Chinese occupation but the last time I did that someone ripped them down. They have shown clearly whose side they're on.
So I have made a decision, albeit a rather neutered one. I'm going to the toilet, putting my bag over my shoulder and I'm going home; and I'm not coming back while the exhibition runs, which is roughly for the rest of my time here.
I only have a week and a half of classes left anyway, so it's not such a big deal. I'll just worker harder at home. And if I can hold my nose tightly enough I will return, like a thief in the night, to do my presentation next week and sit my exams.
But I refuse to be in this building, using their resources, when the hierarchy of the university is working hand-in-glove with the representatives of a government that kills, maims and sterilises to further its imperialist programme.