Release from detention

We are released one by one through a corridor of police, standing there with their flourescent jackets like air traffic controllers.

"All of them for just one of us!" I say to the good looking anarchist I'd been chatting to about the Holocaust earlier. "Who knew we are so powerful!!!"

We wait. We can just about see the person who went through infront of us, trying to shield their face.

My turn.

I walk zig zag past maybe five policemen and come to a group of about four of them, one of whom is holding a camera. A video camera?

I extend my palm out to its lens. It's symbolic. They can see me, they've got pictures of us all.

"If we're going to trade information can I have your names?"

"Yes. It's all here clearly labelled on our jackets."

Flash thought. I'll have to get my pencil out of my bag. A sharp instrument that.

"What's your name please?" asks the Filth. Because they are the filth at that moment. They aren't the copper. They aren't the bobby. They are the Other. The Oppressor. The Captor.

"Do I have to give it?" I ask, quietly I think.

"We'd prefer it if you did." (or something close to that)

"Do you mind if I don't give it to you... Today?"

"Why not?" I can feel them all looking at me.

"I just don't want to, that's all."

"Where do you live?"

"Why do you want to know that."

"So we can come and see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? What for?"

"To ask you for your name."

"I just told you, I don't want to give you my name."

"Don't let them intimidate you!" I look over the heads of my captors and see a young man, with shoulder length curls and a really gentle beautiful looking face.

"Don't let them intimidate you! They've managed to intimidate three people already. Just three, you don't have to tell them anything. Don't let them intimidate you!"

Do I smile? Or is it just my eyes that call out to him my thanks for his being so beautiful?

"Go with them please," says the Filth talking to me about two Others.

"Where am I going?"

"You can go now."

"Oh right, thanks."

Suddenly another one says to me, his notebook in hand. "The government has asked us to take note of who comes to these protests. Can you tell us your ethnicity?"

I scan down this list and see W1

Calender Girls!

Later I asked myself how come I was such a pushover all of a sudden.

"That one, White British. You know.. I was out there, we were out there looking out for your interests today."

"I know, we don't like doing this." At the time I shook my head thinking 'my arse.."

Then, and I just remembered this last night, talking to my friend, the Ed. One of them, blond starts saying something like "If you go on to join a protest or start a protest you will be arrested."

"Today?" I say somewhat confused.

"We are telling you that if you join a protest..."

"Yes, today?"

"Yes, if you join or start a protest today you will be arrested."

"I'm going home. I'm going home for a cup of tea. I was on my way home for a cup of tea when you stopped me."

And with that they let me go, and I quickened my pace up the way I had come and caught up with the Welsh crew ahead because they'd been so kind and so funny and I wanted to say thanks.

Tell you what though, the rabid dogs have not left my dreams yet.

Bastards.

Intimidate Provoke Oppress

Attack Occupy Resist.

They have the power to take everything but they cannot take our spirit. They cannot take our souls.

RIP to all those who die seeking fairness and justice for themselves and their fellow country men and women with special mention to the 26 Christian Greeks who were killed on Sunday whilst on a peaceful protest. (The Independent 11.10.11)