After the nail gun incident, the serious riot police arrive, and the army with them. You’d think that would end it, but in fact it just stokes the blaze. The police deploy teargas, water cannons. The mob bites back. Staging posts emerge, new fronts open. Hours pass like fever, a thousand mini-battles are fought on a hundred street corners. The mob swells and roams, rages, burns. Sometimes it seems to want to destroy the houses of the rich, overturn cars. Sometimes it looks. Then abruptly it goes to Omonia Square and into the poor quarter and seethes with hate. "Junkies! Immigrants! Scroungers! Poofs and whores and lefties and criminal scum! Get out, fuck off! Fuck off back to Russia! Back to Ethiopia and Egypt! There are decent people here! Without your dead weight we’d be fine!" How did that happen, and how did we get here so fast, unopposed? Are those police boots there, are those regulation haircuts at the front? Of course they are. Even cops have feelings, don’t they, and political views? It’s opposite day, or if you want to be a bit traditional it’s the Day of Misrule. The lowest now is high, and high as a kite. When the mob’s in town, everyone gets a turn.