In Defence of the People

by Anon, with art by Renée Bertini (@renee_arts_around)

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I suspect a number of the people reading this also read the piece written by Mixed Bagara. Well, I too am a student of Kingsley College Londis - and while I do personally have a soft spot for the hip-hop discography of Jono Keatz, I wholeheartedly disagree with the sentiment of Mr. Bagara’s audacious and outlandish remarks.

As it was said in 1867 by John Stuart Mill (not Edmund Burke like so many of you philistines may think), ‘Bad men need nothing more to compass their ends, than that good men should look on and do nothing.’ Here I am. I’m standing up against the untruthful and down-right hurtful comments of Mixed Bagara; I am standing up in defence of the people, and I have a few choice words for that blowhard.

First, on his problematic assertions about the members of our course.

We are group of kind, and thoughtful individuals at KCL. The friend groups that have formed are strong and tightly packed, we can help each other through thick and thin. Mixed Bagara’s inability to make the effort with good people is not a reason to label us ‘fakes’. Tell me, Mixed, how do you ever expect to think anyone is beyond ‘surface level’ if you don’t have the courage to dive in and experience their depths?

Moving on, I’m afraid I can’t actually tell you much about the real Mixed Bagara, for he was barely ever present at university. I believe in my three-year stint I saw his face all of two times in lectures and seminars. Although, he could’ve have been in more than that, I’m afraid he doesn’t have a very lasting impression.

Given that I know actually very little about him, I am going to go ahead now and make some large assumptions about the man of the hour, just like he did of us – the swine.

Sure, he talks big about the politics and the philosophies that confuse and allure him, but how much of the actual reading has he done? How many times as he read Thomas Hobbes’ Leviathan? How much of Plato’s Republic can he recite to an audience? How many nights does he spend sitting up in bed, just thinking about the world? Thinking about life and death and what those things even mean? How much time does he devote to intellectual pursuits? Or is he happier simply pumping out easy-to-read tripe?

He’s boasted of his ability to get friend-zoned, but not ‘mum-zoned’, in some kind of naive attempt to divert us from the rather tragic content of what he actually was telling us – the girls don’t like him. He’s a sorry excuse for a modern man, chasing after women he can’t get and convincing himself that they probably just need to know him for a bit longer to ‘realise his genius’.

Oh, and while we’re on the topic, ‘mum-zoning’? Are we really going to allow that? I heard through the grape-vine that one of his best friends is his own mum. He tiers his friends: tier one, tier two, tier three etc. Where does his mum lie in these tiers you ask? Tier one, of course.

Maybe if Mixed had spent less time from 2016 to 2019 in Regent’s Park with his mum drinking coffee and suckling from her supportive udder, then he’d have more friends who didn’t give birth to him.

He thinks he’s impervious to insults, he thinks he can preempt what people are going to say about him and beat them to it. Well, sorry, but that doesn’t make it any less true. For heaven’s sake! I hate him! I do! Fuck that guy! That slimy, little, egotistical, cocky twat! Who does he think he is? Writing to this publication, seeking comfort and safety behind the barricaded doors of a strongly worded letter. Attempting to push others down to boost himself up! Fuck Mixed fucking Bagara! God, I hate him, I hate him, I hate him, I… I love him…

…I love him. I do. I love Mixed Bagara. I can’t get him out of my head. He’s a parasite of pure delight. Ever since I read that letter, in fact, before that, I used to see him walking around campus, not very often of course, but that was always his trick – to leave us wanting more. Oh, you sneaky devil, you always knew how to get me going, didn’t you? I’ve read the letter over ten times, it’s addictive. I’ve tried to convince myself that I disagree with your words, but how can you argue with such beauty? The way you craft sentences and paragraphs, the way I’m always on the edge of my seat, ready to turn away but unable to break free – I’m truly in awe. I think you’re a wonderful writer, Mixed.

God, I feel broken. That’s what he does, you see. It’s disheartening, but enlightening. If you’re there, Mixed, if you’re reading, hmu.

Yours faithfully,

Anon


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