Monday, August 08, 2011

We're revolting


Dear Social Media, how about a spot of rioting and shop-looting this evening?  

Things have kicked off, you see, 'cos a number of us were a bit put out about the killing of a youth. We don't really know what happened in the shootout, but you know.. the coppers don't have the greatest track record of asking questions first, shooting later. So there was a walk of solidarity for the victim and those affected, just while we waited for the actual investigation. 

Haha, who am I kidding... Who cares about the investigation? We know it was all about racial profiling. It always is. 

So anyway, there was this walk. And you know, when there are more than 5 people in a mob, the average intelligence is the square root of the lowest IQ in the group. So all it takes is one knob-head to kick a dustbin and next thing you know, there's a whole lump of electronics spilling out in to the street from a busted window and well... they don't put the shit stuff in the display. 

And it was fun, you know?. It was powerful. Running wild, kicking stuff, grabbing shit. Have you ever smashed a car windscreen in, just because it's there and everyone around you is on a similar rampage of destruction? Can you imagine the rush? I bet you can't. It fucking beats sitting at home on the dole, I'll tell you that much. 

You slowly become aware of the pigs standing guard in the distance. Maybe you don't hear the sirens, but you will notice the dogs.
 They're watching, holding their riot line. Waiting... incapacitated, knowing that the outraged cry of police brutality is just one over-reaction away. If they strike, even in defence, it has to be controlled. But we don't have such rules. We're don't have to hold back.


So they have to bide their time as you run amok. They can't make the first move. They're scared, you can see that, if you get close enough to look behind each plexiglass helmut. You can see it, you know... The Fear. 



You don't want to get arrested, or identified though... There is that. But if you keep your head down and your face covered, who are you but a set of rage-empowered eyeballs in the mob? No one. Nameless. Faceless. But so powerful. 

So we're doing it again. It's a fucking fantastic rush. Anarchy. 

We're striking out against The Man. 
We're revolting. 



No. Don't give me this crap about taking our grievances to the council. Why the fuck would we converge on those buildings, what's to be had in there? Nah. We're talking more local, in the 'hood.... you want to hit the High Street. The looting is much better. 

See you there. 

2 comments:

rd said...

I like it!

Mrs Corbett (or whoever your English teacher was) would be proud!

Anonymous said...

Just one mistake in the grammar that I noted!!
Your other English teacher