“And the streets of Stepney are littered with chicken bones
from last night’s ceremony,
uncut the reverie,
boundaries staked out between E1 and E3…”
Tuesday night, and we heard how the English Defence League were in Tower Hamlets. The Grave Maurice. Word.
Spotted by someone closer to the vine than I, a tense, smoke-filled meeting was convened concerning their kind and how they might come to Whitechapel. By the time I breezed back from pub, the High Street was bustling with so many local youths who had turned up. We talk well over 500. What kind of response is warranted? We still don’t know. The EDL and unchartered territory. Sure enough, they needed the police to escort them out, so they can FUCK OFF. Exist via Whitechapel station.
I still fail to understand what the EDL think. A grand day, the claim through a multitude of forums and facebooks posts. They bus their loons in, as if they might come here to assist or swing us to some kind of politics or point. As if we wanna hear it… Come around here to meet the locals, and EDL gonna get spooked. Can tell them that now.
If there’s anything gonna bring the Banglatown ganglands together, it’s probably a visit from a legion of skinhead ‘ooligans, bevvied-up bovver boys. The reek of the Stella. The hilarious anthems.
Horrific lack of coherent thinking or eschatological directive. Territory very much contested. Round here, we certainly don’t appreciate outsiders coming in telling us how to do politricks. The Big men from Unite Against Fascism, other Muslim Community Leaders, ex-RESPECT and obscurist leninist factions crowded together in hot and sweaty meetings. The Anarchists turn up early, to take one square side of what should be a round table. All the talk about the “hot heads” and controlling the young boys.
Err, don’t think that’s the point. Let’s say, if local people want to defend their neighbourhoods, their communities, then surely more strength to their elbow. Look at what happens…
Lets see what happens on Sunday. Unfortunately tonight, I glide to Scotland