November 11th, 2010


hoods up and heads down

There are a lot of people re-tweeting Alaindebotton (WHAT?) and angrily tsking about the tiny riot on my twitterstream this morning, I'd be disappointed, but what the heck, they're only Tweeple. Brevity may be the soul of wit, but it's no friend to deep, insightful analyses.

I'm particularly amused by the whingeing about the repeated use of that fantastic shot of the angry windowsmasher. I love this image. Love it. I call it "100 photographers in pursuit of next month's payments". It'll be a fake Banksy (a FAKESY?) by the end of the week, if it isn't already. Attempts to claim that professional rioters were behind it all collapse a little in the face of the photos -- 16 years olds facing EMA cut-off and potentially being charged for A Levels jostle with the usual crew of Politicos and Beatniks, donkey jackets mix it up with tweed and leather and there's a certain airy and amateurish unconcern about having your face on show.

It's on the front of the newspapers because it captured the spirit of the moment. Your slant may vary, but the power of the moment is undeniable. From the obvious irony of this headline to the Parisian cosplay that was clearly the look of the day, there is less an air of organisation (even eye-witnesses can't do better than "some sort of effigy" for the thing that got burned) than of an emergence of focus for a common desire: to kick in the glass towers of the bankers and sit on their money, even if only for a moment.

It's Armistice Day, isn't it? Well then. How about that post-war dream?