Published in Overland Issue 206 Autumn 2012 · Uncategorized Editorial Jacinda Woodhead ‘Dear capitalism,’ began one of the handmade, cardboard signs floating above the sea of occupiers in Toronto, ‘it’s not you it’s us.’ Then, scrawled below: ‘Just kidding, it’s you.’ Over the past year and a half, events have highlighted a growing suspicion that capitalism is becoming a threat to anyone not a stockbroker, politician or CEO. This widespread movement had made itself felt in Tunisia, Egypt, Greece and Spain, in the crumbling of Wall Street, and in the people’s occupations transforming public spaces into tent cities. It’s certainly the thesis running through this issue of Overland: realisation dawning that, as Žižek once identified, ‘the link between capitalism and democracy has been definitely broken’. In Overland 206, we’re excited to publish part of regular columnist Alison Croggon’s futurist opera about revolutionary poet, Vladimir Mayakovsky (to be performed by Victoria Opera in 2013), and another in our CAL–Connections emerging essayist series, this one from young African-Australian writer Tariro Mavondo on visibility or lack thereof in Australian culture. This edition also features the winning entry from the Overland Judith Wright Poetry Prize for New and Emerging Poets, as well as the usual mix of provocative essays, stories and poetry, including a piece from the late Kerry Leves, a longtime friend of Overland. It’s an issue that allows for much musing over the futures of capitalism and democracy and where they might lie. Jacinda Woodhead Jacinda Woodhead is a former editor of Overland and current law student. More by Jacinda Woodhead › Overland is a not-for-profit magazine with a proud history of supporting writers, and publishing ideas and voices often excluded from other places. If you like this piece, or support Overland’s work in general, please subscribe or donate. Related articles & Essays 1 6 November 2026 · Friday Fiction Headland Harry Goddard He must have still been sore. I could tell from the winces he made as he scooted down the trail. Some unspoken agreement of not hitting other people’s children — and the circumstances of me not being that type of kid — spared me from the same punishment. I was taken to my parents who agreed I would have to work off the damages, and I must have mowed the lawn once, or cleaned the family car. 4 November 2026 · Film MIFF, Minotaur and the politics of maternal reception Alicia Byrnes Maternal labour is, in the terms I’ve set out here, not labour at all. Noisy, unfocused, mobile, perhaps even sleepy — it is an affront to arthouse film viewing and therefore unserious.