Oversion

Venal Vandal Riots

Not nearly as obsessed as some, the Vancouver hockey playoff riot isn’t valid politically, mostly seemed ‘for fun’ and venal. Robbing stores plus out on a lark. The NHL apologizes to Vancouver vai combra.

like oh, the vandalism. Vandalism is so minor compared with contagious illnesses and gun violence.
Definitely the first real total switchflip
on the whole concern with ‘rioting’
…fucking rioters come at my door
they will be walking politely up the street
moments later. Shorted ‘term’ types of problem
swift and quick, compared with some things.
Ironically the vandalcouver riot has turned serious anew today, despite my paying no attention. Endless issues piling up with the million photos and facebook approach to vigilanteism. Through the roof, with real violence in the mix in a partly red neck place, to be kind.
As in Anyone who looks like a protestor is subject to sudden attack as encouraged by facebook and the rcmp,
both now skimming backwards from the touting of vigilante heroes. With police backing it up that its ‘anarchists’
so vividly distinct from what was before their eyes,
the apolitical mayhem and societal disregard for corporations, among the general public and government…

But again, lots else to think about.
Dupont Station, my everyday subway station
was robbed at gunpoint either today or last night,
it was on the radio. It’s an obscure one
in that regard, not all busy like spadina or downsview. The token guy is pretty much on his own. I’d defend him protectively the best I could, and have my extreme
preconscious hatred for guns and other very harmful weapons.

I complain of ttc each week, but support the workers entirely. Another intersection with the topic I guess. What to do in the event of a riot?

Alright fine: I’d watch and photograph and stay safe,
but if I saw people beating on someone i’d try to figure away to frighten them to rapid flight. The Big Voice has always been my main and only device. Haven’t had a fight since we were 17, me and Kevin, and argued about who’d won, all the way home on foot. But there’s always a way!
When the raccoons had me encircled and the leader charged I stepped out of the beam light and he thought a train was coming. They have never bothered me again back there.
When two brawny guys tried to mug me on my bike
(the very two that I was circling back through
to see why a gang was chasing them and if they were alright)
I played hapless bird on the bike but invisibly widing the legs for sudden zip ride

I can’t help but think I’ve told my own so similar story before without the wheelchair factor though. Freshly alarming. Our occasion so like it otherwise
in the 80s, all wimpy and young, seeing a couple
across the street on dupont, street of infamy this day,
in what was plainly one of those long imbued couples
just built on the chronic abuse, the every evening
rages and tirades and beginnings of sick tawdry violence that sickly pointed to the privacies of home. So fucking loathesome. But I wasn’t my confident hardened self back then, and we hardly knew what to do. It resulted in a long staring match back and forth. One of the formative ones
for developing the use of dada-surrealism on the streets.

Grimly, as far as being any kind of hero one side or the other in a venal riot like happened after game seven,
my loyalties would only be to individuals, life and blood.

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