As an expansion on this, there is a particular extract from the chapter that any serving police officer would do well to read and consider...

"Sam had been looking the Shirriffs up and down and had spotted one that he knew. 'Hey, come here Robin Smallburow!' he called. 'I want a word with you.'
With a sheepish glance at his leader, who looked wrathful but did not dare to interfere, Shirriff Smallburrow fell back and walked beside Sam, who got down off his pony.
'Look here, cock-robin!' said Sam. 'You're Hobbiton-bred and ought to have more sense, coming a-waylaying Mr. Frodo and all. And what's all this about the inn being closed?'
'They're all closed,' said Robin. 'The Chief doesn't hold with beer. Leastways that is how it started. But now I reckon it's his Men that has it all. And he doesn't hold with folk moving about; so if they will or they must, then they has to go to the Shirriff-house and explain their business.'
'You ought to be ashamed of yourself having anything to do with such nonsense,' said Sam. 'You used to like the inside of an inn better than the outside yourself. You were always popping in, on duty or off.'
'And so I would be still, Sam, if I could. But don't be hard on me. What can I do? You know how I went for a Shirriff seven years ago, before any of this began. Gave me a chance of walking round the country and seeing folk, and hearing the news, and knowing where the good beer was. But now it's different.'
'But you can give it up, stop Shirriffing, if it has stopped being a respectable job,' said Sam.
'We're not allowed to,' said Robin.
'If I hear not allowed much oftener,' said Sam, 'I'm going to get angry.'"

When they return home, however, the Shire hobbits discover their cherished ideal corrupted. A totalitarian state has replaced the carefree rural life, dominated by "the Rules" and suffering from "no beer and very little food." Journeying deeper into the Shire reveals a devastated countryside. Homes have been replaced by ugly row houses and barracks, trees have been wantonly felled, and the old mill has been replaced by "a great brick building straddling the stream, which it fouled with a steaming and stinking outflow." Frodo's own home, Bag End, lies abandoned and stinks of filth. Sam sums up the situation with his exclamation, "This is worse than Mordor! . . . It comes home to you, they say; because it is home, and you remember it before it was ruined."

https://odysee.com/@S2Underground:7/the-wire-august-8,-2024:2

https://odysee.com/@S2Underground:7/the-wire-august-8,-2024:2

Odysee

The Wire - August 8, 2024

The text version of the Wire can be found on Twitter: https://twitter.com/s2\_underground

Wouldn't it be a shame if someone reported journalists to the police for broadcasting riot footage?

These videos seemed relevant right now. The full version is definitely worth a watch right through, but S2 has helpfully condensed the basics into the 4 minute field guide posted above which would be advisable to save.

I had written previously here on certain dangers inherent in the use of DMR transmissions and how their unique signature can compromise anonymity for the trade in privacy, but we are not (yet) in a situation where regional police forces can call in drone strikes on protests. Now is not the time to fear. That comes later...

Nobody cares about what they're building at work. Spreadsheets for factories for guns for wars for people you don't know. Gantt charts for doughnuts for phillipinos to sell to other phillipinos. Etc.

I think the breakaway farmers/homesteaders/artisinal honey peddlers will slowly gain advantage over established society just out of ability to give a shit.

- Ted Kaczynski (probably)

Walking into the local Indian-run laptop repair shop wearing nothing but muddy grime and carrying a brown paper parcel tied up with a pretty red ribbon. Staring at the cashier until he looks up from his remote desktop terminal and puts a geriatric boomer on hold on the phone.

"Tell me Pajeet. Are you familiar with ... Theodore Kaczynski?"

Walking into the gym wearing nothing but squat shoes and a star of David amulet, reeking of raw and totally unquestionable ~~homo~~heterosexuality. Stand behind the black guy at the squat rack and lock eye contact in the mirror the moment his thighs break parallel.

"Tell me boy. Are you familiar with ... BAP?"

Imagine the levels of paranoia you must have to be terrified by a John Constable painting.

Britain isn’t a serious country.