There was a respite in sirens during the afternoon, but they seem to have started up again. No doubt it's just paranoia. I live on the junction of the A23 and the South Circular, sirens are an integral part of life, so much so that I normally blank them out.
Strange blogging silence from these parts about the shooting at Stockwell station. Other than to say that sometimes it is necessary for the ordinary citizen to hold two opposing and conflicting views simultaneously. It's easier to be opinionated and unassailably convinced. But there are complex issues, requiring the wisdom of Solomon.
There is a tradition round here for riots to follow deaths in custody.
Last time, it was mainly arseholes without a consciousness, without a political thought or motivation in their heads seizing an opportunity to go on an alcohol-and-testosterone-fuelled rampage, targeting and intimidating small businesses - shops and pubs in the main.
There have been two since I've lived here, I don't want a third thank you. December 1995 was truly frightening; July 2001 was just louts whipped up by extremist political agitators. On the former occasion I was given a lift home from a Christmas party in Oval by a most circuitous route, as rumours flew of untold damage. I passed a building blazing fiercely on Acre Lane; overnight six fire engines were parked outside my house. I was on an adrenaline rush, but not a nice one, unable to sleep for much of the night, and I was supposed to be in Southampton at half nine the next morning. When I eventually arrived closer to eleven my apologies and excuse "There was a riot in my neighbourhood last night" were met with disbelief.
There were times I was wholly inadequate as a councillor for Brixton.
Update update: And since I forgot to change draft to publish I have received an email from the Trotskyites masquerading as Brixton Stop the War advertising a vigil outside Stockwell Tube tomorrow at 6.
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