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Our Crack Little Crack
Whenever anyone threatens to show me something on Facebook, you can actually see my whole body wilt. I look like an empty packet of Monster Munch that’s been put in the oven. That’s mainly because the stuff people I’m shown invariably involves an animal doing something “hilarious” (read: not hilarious). But my interest was piqued by Facebook footage recently of those bozos in Trafalgar Square. You know the ones. They had all gathered to show they weren’t going to be subjugated by idiot mask-wearers. David Icke, invariably, opened proceedings by shouting “Freedom!” at the top of his lungs like a Poundshop Braveheart. I skipped the rest of his speech but I imagine it had something to do with Germany being a hologram. But I’m always interested in the kind of crowd these things attract. One fella unveiled a British Union of Fascists flag from the 1930s, which is probably a good indication of which side of the political spectrum this lot are drawn from. My favourite, though, was a bloke wearing a camouflage jacket AND a hi-viz vest. How does that work? You can’t see me! Here I am! You can’t see me! Here I am. In short: they’re mad.