puke on cops
20th December 2009, 19:01
Thatcher = hurry up and die. Please, I'm seriously getting bored of waiting, and I'm only 27.
Chris Knight - we'll even throw in a pagan burial at Stonehenge, just please stop dragging Anarchism through the fucking mud.
The SWP - soon to be the best slowmotion carcrash ever, completely narrated by The Weekly Worker. Man I hope whatever Trot org is born out of the ruins of that smouldering wreckage has the word 'united' in its name for irony points.
Noam Chomsky- like an old sheepdog. Once a useful and trusting companion, now it's getting it's wires crossed and has stopped barking at Union-busting murderious dictators cos they happen to be 'anti-imperialist'. Consider it a mercy killing, before he starts soiling more than just the name of Anarchism. Needs taking out for a one-way walk along the moors.
Like the last scene in 'Of Mice and men', I'll sit him down and get him to talk about 'precarity' or Syndicalism in 30's Spain, or something redundant and inofensive, so I can catch a glimpse of the man he used to be. While he's looking into the distance, imagining the far away fields as cultivised lands owned by syndicates of peasants, I'll sneakily load a revolver and BOOM.
Chris Knight - we'll even throw in a pagan burial at Stonehenge, just please stop dragging Anarchism through the fucking mud.
The SWP - soon to be the best slowmotion carcrash ever, completely narrated by The Weekly Worker. Man I hope whatever Trot org is born out of the ruins of that smouldering wreckage has the word 'united' in its name for irony points.
Noam Chomsky- like an old sheepdog. Once a useful and trusting companion, now it's getting it's wires crossed and has stopped barking at Union-busting murderious dictators cos they happen to be 'anti-imperialist'. Consider it a mercy killing, before he starts soiling more than just the name of Anarchism. Needs taking out for a one-way walk along the moors.
Like the last scene in 'Of Mice and men', I'll sit him down and get him to talk about 'precarity' or Syndicalism in 30's Spain, or something redundant and inofensive, so I can catch a glimpse of the man he used to be. While he's looking into the distance, imagining the far away fields as cultivised lands owned by syndicates of peasants, I'll sneakily load a revolver and BOOM.