I can’t keep up the charade of masculinity any more. I want my mum

At half past midnight I stepped outside of the Brisbane lock up and into the arms of the extinction rebellion support group who were keeping an all night vigil. I was told: ‘Write down your experience of the cells, while it’s fresh.’ So here it is ...

Morgyn Quinn the protester who was locked up on Aug 6 and wrote a recount of his watch house ‘ordeal’.

AT HALF past midnight I stepped onto the sidewalk outside of the Brisbane lock up and into the arms of the extinction rebellion support group who were keeping an all night vigil. I was not expecting the hugs, the little cheer and the cold pizza. And I totally wasn’t expecting a ride home either, by a cool old French revolutionary. As I stepped out of his car at my manor, he said -write down your experience of the cells, while it’s fresh. So here it is.

MORGYN QUINN’S FULL DIARY POST:

7AM TUES MORNING.

Feeling a bit inappropriate to take an Uber, I cycle down to Brisbane’s Parliament House to join the XR protest. The aim is to alert the population worldwide to the mass extinction and get governments to declare a climate emergency. Several hundred of us proceed to the riverside expressway turnpike and sit on the road. We are soon asked by police to move on or be arrested. I didn’t plan to get arrested, but anyway next minute I’m in the paddy wagon hurtling towards the lock up with a cargo of cheerful XR protesters. It’s still a merry mood as we arrive at Roma st Babylon HQ and play musical holding cells for an hour, somewhere along the way getting frisked and losing all warm clothes and socks.

9AM

there’s ten of us in a six man cell, the mood is still pretty high as we expect to be let out soon. I’ve been arrested a couple times before and it only takes about 10 /15 mins to fingerprint and get your court documents.

10AM and I’m starting to get cold feet. Not metaphorically, but literally. The floor is concrete, the benches are metal and the sadistic bastards are pumping the aircon. I press the intercom- hey, can we get some jumpers in here?

The guard is surly and brings us a bunch of prison pullovers.

12PM

Lunch is served. The grumpy guard asks who is vego?

Me and some other fools put our hands up. He passes us an apple and a bowl of cabbage. I shit you not. The other lads get a chicken red rooster wrap.

The cabbage is worse than no food. It has the duel affect of making you somehow hungrier and angrier.

1PM

To improve circulation we improvise a game of indoor cricket with a chicken wrapper and a plastic bottle.

2PM the cold makes it impossible to relax or snooze. I press the intercom. Me again, hey it’s freezing in here can we have one of those blankets we can see piled up outside the door?

The big prick goes: naw they’re for the night time inmates- Nawt the day inmates.

3PM

I start a game of charades with the lads

3.15PM

charades end, dejected apathy continues

4.30PM

I’m starting to feel like an old arthritic dog. The cold is making my kidneys and back ache like a mother (expletive).

I hit the intercom

Hey it’s me again, isn’t it illegal to hold us for over 8 hours?

— No it’s nawt illegal.

I don’t even know what I’m charged with!

— Obstructing the traffic.

So when are you going to process us?

— There’s a lawt o youse. could be a while.

Can we have blankets then?

— Naw they’re for the night time inmates. End o (expletive) story beep.

6PM

the door opens and some older chap says dinner is soon. I get stroppy, I say we’ve only had cabbage all day, there better be some proper food. It’s your duty of care etc. We are promised hot chips and bread, red rooster for the carnivores.

6.15PM

The guard delivers the chips in batches and is a little apologetic for our situation. Still no blankets tho.

After dinner I sit in the corner, cold and depressed with my knees under my prison shirt, head on my knees. I can’t keep up the charade of masculinity any more. I want my mum. The other prisoners make me a little fort out of the cold vinyl prison mats and one even gives me his prison shirt. I’m from England he says, I can handle the cold.

9PM

Waterworld on the TV. Watching the worlds worst film, and an ironic choice of film from the cops- seeing that the ice caps have obviously melted in waterworld and it’s like a mad max dystopia on catamarans instead of old falcons. That’s as good as it gets in here.

10PM

one of the old boys in our dungeon hits the intercom.

-Look it’s night time and the cold is really becoming a health issue. Can we have blankets?

The guard: sorry no can do

By this time I’ve cracked. I’m next to the intercom yelling — get us some (expletive) blankets! We are the night inmates now!

Much to our surprise the bastard wheels a trolley round to all the cells, and gives everyone a blanket. We are still over crowded in our cell, but we’re able to huddle under the flouro lights and cocoon ourselves. I’m so pissed off my face hurts. I start chanting Hare Krishna in my head in an effort to relax and get to 40 rounds and slip into an uneasy slumber. until a heavy prison door slams. Two of our boys are taken away.

I’m wide awake and I ask one of the other guys:

Hey Barry, I don’t think I should use the intercom again. Can you ask if they have any books?

There’s a new screw, who in a friendly voice says — there certainly is, and let’s me and Barry out of the cell to check the book selection out in the corridor.

It’s literally the worst collection of books ever assembled, but I’m so out of my head with boredom I could read the bible and enjoy it.

But right then, an old uniformed geezer grabs me by the arm and says Quinn?

Yeah

And he bustles me into the lift downstairs.

You believe in climate change? he chuckles.

I say well according to the scientists.

He says — there’s four seasons, summer autumn winter spring, that’s the only climate change, and before I can refute the ignoramus, I’m in another holding cell, this time with a tropical fish expert on a DV charge. Then I’m finger printed by a machine and back in a big holding cell with about ten protesters. When I start moaning about the cold and the shit food, they are like- you got a blanket and cabbage? You lucky bastard!

Finally I’m pulled out for the final part where you sign bail agreements and get your clothes back. I’m not allowed in the cbd for two weeks until my court date.

And then it’s down the elevator and into the welcoming cuddles of the XR vigil crew.

So in conclusion- I haven’t painted a very nice picture of life inside Brisbane’s illustrious watch house but it was a very valuable and eye opening experience. The police were obviously keeping us in for longer than needed and I believe this was illegal and a deterrent to protest. This is worrying. Protesting is our right, and we should not be punished and deprived of liberty for excessive amounts of time for exercising our right. This is even more of a reason to stand up to the corruption that is endemic in our government and corporatised society. The government and police are acting in the interests of giant corporations and not the people. The corruption is at the core of the system. I urge everyone to get your feet on the street and be heard, this is crunch time around the world. We need to show the media, like the dogs in the courier mail, that we are not all green feral extremists. (not that there’s anything wrong with being one ❤️) Keep up the fight. ‘Never doubt that a small group of people can change the world, indeed, it is the only thing that ever has’