Socialist Worker, Socialist Worker..

Another 9/11 conspiracy theorist. Outside Bank Of Scotland, Cockspur St.

Still mulling over the harrowing last hour in London on Saturday, running through the streets with an unimpressed Miss P in tow attempting to get to Victoria coach station (itself an absolute mess of logistics, two separate buildings? really?).
Leicester Square Pizza Hut should not employ waitresses who lack a basic ability to understand or speak English, this is unhelpful in England when you are dealing with the general public. This made us late, resulting in temper loss by me where I threw the fucks around a little bit too willy-nilly, its not cool to threaten to stuff slices of Pizza up someones ass or offer out a whole restaurant full of men women and children, even if they all deserve it (especially the children). I need to manage my anger.
I left the minus a slice-and-a-half medium Chicken Supreme on the eastbound Number 38.
We did not pay to get on this bus, which was handy because we only spent 30 seconds on it before we realised we were going in the wrong direction.
I learnt how to buy bus tickets via robot, rather than paying the driver (really did feel like Cletus the slack-jawed yokel by this point), I thanked the fat stinking pig ugly cockney wench at the helm of the westbound number 38 for informing me of this fact before she drove off without waiting the 30 seconds it would have took for us to get tickets to our destination (Bus Drivers, I shit-em), I’m throwing a stub-yer-toe hex on her.
The Victoria line was shut for the weekend at our link and never ask for directions to Victoria coach station , everyone directs you to the train station and when you have zero seconds to spare, this is not useful.
Got some decent directions at Buck house from the bobby with the big gun and made it with a minute to spare. Our coach would be late anyways.
I was told only once did my face ever fall into panic , and only because I didn’t wanna be stuck in London with no means. The National Express back to Bristol was cold and shit and all I could picture was Queen Victoria’s miserable fucking face.

I feel kind of odd about the march itself, I feel society is still wholly unprepared for the real changes it needs to go through. There is a general feeling of being in the middle of a moment in time.
The amount of crappy literature that is handed out at these events does not sit well with me, leaflet after leaflet after glossy pamphlet. The amount of conspiracy theory and lack of understanding of diplomacy and politics at Saturdays events knew no bounds.
I consider myself a basic socialist (helping society through looking after those most needy first), but the amount of shit that many people on the left spout is unbelievable. The forces of Capitalism and Conservatism are entwined and crumbling yet the left is still in tatters. At a time when the forces of modern conservatism is now noticeably fucking everything up, the Left has no answer, our party was truly dead well over twelve years ago, and since then we have had no representation.. this is no small thing.
Labour moved central to claim the Tory ground and it never looked back, I wonder if it can ever turn back, they seem to be a party of Finks. I’ll never vote for the Labour party in its current guise. Conservatism won, and the Left went radical and small and fractured and then retracted from the real broad stroke politic that effect real people. The left that exists is small, ignorant, radical, and is a big turn-off to the stakeholder society that will cling to the system until the system as it stands dies. As I believe it will.

Anyways fuck it, we mooched to Covent Garden which I had never been to (packed and interesting), and we found time for Lor to get jabs for Asia, and we popped into the National Gallery and the Portrait Gallery, which is a given. although this time I failed get a chance to see my current pick of the pops painting La Coiffure by Degas before they shut. bah.

I still enjoyed the day though, and I hope Laura Michelle did too, I think she did. A protest march no-matter how vague it was (and it was), is always a great place for photos, shes the best I know when it comes to it, her photos are excellent, stylish. She was using my old OM10 and XP2. I was with an old 300d. I will post some of our shots here when I have sorted them. I think I’m gonna get another film camera. Film is better.

fine day. must do it again.

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