Booty

I made the decision yesterday to clear my front garden of potential missiles, including windowboxes, potted plants and recycling odds and ends just in case the destruction carried on a further half mile from South Ealing down to my street. We are blessed with a truly crap high street, so far not deemed worthy of looting, and long may it continue.

Of course my neighbours didn't worry about clearing their front gardens, so I guess it was all kind of pointless, but how stupid would you feel the moment your terra cotta plant pot came sailing through the window followed by wine bottles and the entire cast of Lord of the Flies? Pretty stupid I guess. Like, I wish I'd come out during the adverts and removed the temptation instead of turning over to Road Wars and eating the rest of the prawn crackers.

Are these looters "disaffected youth" or are they very avid participants in their own culture? I think we're witnessing the ultimate triumph of consumerism on the streets of London. It has worked so well at stirring people into a frenzy of aspiration and acquisitiveness that they've gone out and jolly well acquired all the real branded goods they can get their hands on. No more market knock-offs! No more Korean Uggs off eBay! The real deal, carried with one's own fair hand through the window of J D Sports and ready to wear once the broken glass is dusted off. And a sense of achievement to boot.