Viewing posts tagged protests

Resistance is Useful

There were violent clashes in London yesterday as protestors against the Dalek occupation attacked Daleks and Robomen on the streets.

What started as a peaceful and normal day, with Robomen performing their normal routine of rounding up prisoners to be sent to the new 'workfare' camp in Bedfordshire for lazy scroungers, quickly turned to turmoil when protestors - doubtless infiltrated by a hardcore of anarchists and outside agitators - launched an unprovoked attack on a Dalek ship innocently parked at the Chelsea Heliport.

Robomen were forced to 'kettle' the protestors when clashes erupted.  Reports are that three Robomen have sustained injuries, and one Dalek was slightly scuffed when protestors viciously and thuggishly pushed it down a gentle ramp. 

A Dalek defends himself against the unprovoked aggression of the
feral, anarchist, hoodie, chav scum, student layabout protestors

The Dalek Supreme commented today: "Of course, we support peaceful demonstrations... but any more will be met with immediately extermination."

Rise Like Lions

Even as I type this, protestors are clambering over the stone lions at the base of Nelson's Column, waving anti-cuts placards while sat astride the petrified leonine relics of an imperial age that is still decaying... and trying to take us all with it.


'Warrior's Gate' came up for discussion at Gallifrey Base today.  It seems almost ridiculously appropriate.  Well, it does to me anyway.


Biroc makes me think of Walter Benjamin’s ‘Angel of History’:

The Angel of History must look just so. His face is turned towards the past. Where we see the appearance of a chain of events, he sees one single catastrophe, which unceasingly piles rubble on top of rubble and hurls it before his feet. He would like to pause for a moment so fair, to awaken the dead and to piece together what has been smashed. But a storm is blowing from Paradise, it has caught itself up in his wings and is so strong that the Angel can no longer close them. The storm drives him irresistibly into the future, to which his back is turned, while the rubble-heap before him grows sky-high. That which we call progress, is ...

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