For my weekly writing spot on this site, see the One-Minute Mystic, with a new meditation posted every Monday. Also see The Village, the story of Misty Longings, England's most beautiful village, posted episode by episode earlier this year.       Entitlement     It is now three weeks since a violent madness hit the streets of urban England. And from my window, I look across to the Broadwater Farm estate in Tottenham where it all started. Again. It was in 1985 that two deaths and a riot made the place famous. With relations between the black community and the Metropolitan police force at an all time low, one thing led to another. On October 5th, 49 year-old Afro-Caribbean Cynthia Jarrett died of a stroke while police were searching her flat. Her family claim she was pushed over. Protests about her death developed into the riots that saw PC Blakelok hacked to death the following night. He was the first policeman to die in a riot in England since 1833. Fast forward to August 2011. The fatal shooting of 29-year old Mark Duggan, who also lived on Broadwater Farm, brings peaceful protests on August 4th. Two days later, these become an explosion of public disorder first in Tottenham, but spreading quickly across London, Birmingham and other cities. Why? 1985 does not feel like 2011. 26 years ago, it was a race issue, only four years – and an ignored Scarman report - after the Brixton riots. But when the dust settles on recent events, race will be just one issue amongst many. It was the sense of entitlement that most struck me: the remorse-free and deliberate grabbiness on display in the looters; the sense that they were somehow entitled to smash and steal the livelihoods of frightened others. A sense of entitlement is a bleak emotion, born from an emotional cold when young. It's not attractive but the looters are hardly alone. As a journalist friend e mailed me when I raised the subject: 'There is a ghastly connecting thread between the greedy 'entitlement' of me and my double-buggy-pushing, 4by4-driving, Carluccio-lunching Chiswick neighbours and that of the little bastards who ransacked and torched what used to be my local corner shop when I lived in Ealing two summers ago.' We are appalled at the looting; at the ripping of the fragile fabric of society. But this gnawing sense of entitlement goes even higher up the food chain than the Carluccio-lunching of Chiswick. The 17 millionaires in the present Cabinet presumably imagine they are entitled to everything they have. It's different in that everything they possess is legal. But there is no difference in the bleak psychology beneath it: the eternal cold of an unloved self grabbing at everything to make up for it. 'I will compensate for my lack! I deserve it; I deserve everything! Mine! Mine!' The Broadwater Farm estate lies still today beneath a brilliant blue sky. Since 1985, huge investment has gone into the place. It now has own schools, doctors, nursery, community centre, advice centres, skate board arenas etc. But a local policeman tells me they cannot presently enter the estate as Mark Duggan's gang have sworn revenge. More necessary than big investment today are big hearts. More writings © Simon Parke