On the 22nd of October the Freedom Club was attacked. While we were reveling towards a world without work, bosses, cops, priests, heteronomy and laws against consensual sex with libidinally blessed black-metal goats, a fasces of youthful, white Ostrayan thugs tried to enter the Melbourne Anarchist Resource Center for a forceful dance of fists. So what did we do? We gleefully fought back of course, defending ourselves and our space with insurrectionary passion and courageous, carnivalesque gaiety! Although we were outnumbered, we sent the thugs running with a flurry of bottles, black flags and flying Manchurian kicks to their heads. Four lanes of traffic were stopped as the pavement became a starry night of shattered glass while a rainbow of flying bottles were exchanged between the thugs and the wild comrades of the Freedom Club. The thugs resorted to racist chimes of “Fuck off Wogs” and suchlike, including a cry of “You fucking Pakis” that turned against them when the cops showed up: the pigs chatted with a High School security guard who had watched the battle, and he happened to be from Pakistan and was offended by the thug’s Ostrayan vernacular. Thus the pigs sped off in search of the thugs who, being all white, and many having ripped off their tops during the battle, would have stood out like impotent semen stains against the fecund black night. If the pigs found them I’m sure they would have berated their sons for having their “white pride” humiliated by “a bunch of wogs,” then given them a friendly lift home!
The thugs cracked the MARC front window, and three comrades were mildly injured. But it was nothing that the joy of sovereign victory couldn’t heal with a hearty laugh and the autonomous self-empowerment gained by defending your turf on your own terms.
It is unknown whether the thugs were consciously politically right, or whether they were just very ordinary white Ostrayans for whom racism is often second nature. If they were not avowed right-wing youth and were just ordinary Ostrayans, the situation is indeed more sinister insofar as they so naturally gravitated towards racist cries and in this represent a swathe of the general population. We were also called “fucking hippies”, even though we do not at all look like ‘hippies’, which suggests that they may have had some idea that we were anarchists. What the hell was a large gang of all white, all male youth doing in that area at that time of the night anyway? Nonetheless, with a varied palette of ethnic backgrounds celebrated in the Freedom Club, we taught 'the Superior Race' of Ostrayan colon-isers a lesson in multiculturalism they won’t forget! Long live left-wing kicks to right-wing heads sing the angry, joyful doves of the Freedom Club!
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