Smelling the stink of privilege, by walking in the footsteps of Jack the Ripper

One of the many things I took away from reading Alan Moore and Eddie Campbell's From Hell was treating an urban centre as a magical place, loaded with meaning. Falling hard for psychometry on a geographic scale - I followed in Jack the Ripper's footsteps, (sometimes down the actual streets he did), and feel the potential within the locations I existed in, for one small slice of space and time.

I always liked to wander around at night, but after From Hell, I found myself walk around towns late at night with a thoroughly open mind, drinking it all in, seeing the importance in a gutter, or an old shop where I used to rent videos.

The funny thing is, walking around like I'm Jack the fucking Ripper (without, y'know, the murderings and shit) has helped open my eyes to my own privilege, and how I'm soaked in it.

Despite what some of my elderly relatives have awkwardly been telling me recently, reverse racism is fucking not a thing. Even the lowest white boy comes laden with innate privilege. I always thought because I came from a long line of working class scum, that nobody ever helped me with nothing, but it's not a question of a helping hand, it's a blithe reassurance that white guys can get away with anything.

I can't smell the privilege on me, but it's definitely fucking there. I'm drenched in it. Because when I walk around the dark streets, trying to see the world behind the world like I'm Sir William Gull, I don't get stopped by the police, while my Māori friends get questioned every fucking time they go out.

In the thousands of hours I've spent roaming around the streets like a fucking lunatic, I've only ever had a cop car pull over and ask me what I was up to, and it lasted about two minutes. I was clean and sober, and had nothing on me that would get me into trouble, and after a few brief questions I was on my way. 

I do feel guilty about all this - the classic liberal angst - but do what I can, which mainly consists of shutting the fuck up and letting other people talk about the issues that actually affect them.

But I am reminded of it every time I wander around at night, with a head full of Hawksmoor and shit, and the police car just rolls on by.