That’s fairly cheeky

“amid fears that the campaign will last for weeks or even months”
more accurately amid fears the campaign won’t be snuffed out by arresting all involved in participating, aiding and abetting these acts.

’… Insulate Britain is surprised it has not formed part of the response to the campaign.’

I’m somewhat surprised too.

Given the way the useless Met Police actually helped to facilitate this protest with their kid glove treatment, I wouldn’t have been at all surprised to see the equally useless Tory government do the same…

CRS and water cannon. They deserve nothing less.

Remarkably restrained of you. I would hope to see the same heavy-handed response from the pigs that the peaceful anti-lockdown protests received. I won’t be holding my breath though.

Protesters have asked for the motorway speed limit to be cut to accommodate their demonstrations ahead of further action on the M25 on Monday.

Clearly none of said protesters have ever tried J18 on a Monday morning.

Or any other morning, for that matter….

Bring on the SuperSoakers ;¬)

Government has to be seen to have people protesting against it to demonstrate their democratic legitimacy. If nobody does protest, some protests must be organised in order to create the symptoms of democratic legitimacy.

Time to go clubbing.

Actually, the history is rhyming. Chaos and lawless behaviour. Next will be some uniformed para-legal thugs restoring order and generally being very popular (but don’t look too hard).
Sales of brown shirts are expected to rise.

If any “anti-Vaxxers” or EDL folks don’t mind getting their heads broken, they could duplicate the tactic and usefully show what the “police” can do when they aren’t on the side of the criminals.

Not a chance, Bloke on M4; too many activist judges (i.e. virtually all of them). The left have won all the institutions.

Cutting the speed limit on the world’s largest car park?

@ BoM4
Thatcher did not send in the police to stop miners blocking a coking plant – she sent in the police to stop Scargill’s rent-a-pickets beating up workers who wanted to go to work.

John77: Not me. Name is a more subtle hint. Ask Jim instead.

HERF weapons is more my line. They don’t quite deserve that yet but it won’t be long.

“ Members of the group cut a hole in the airport’s perimeter fence before rushing on to the apron at Stansted.
Four protesters arranged themselves around the front landing gear of the aircraft, locking their arms together inside double-layered pipes filled with expanding foam. Further back, a second group of protesters erected a 2-metre tripod from scaffolding poles behind the engine on the left wing. One of them perched on top of the makeshift structure, while others locked themselves to the base to prevent it from being moved.”

“ Weighing the argument, Burnett said in his judgment: “The closure of the runway was undoubtedly disruptive and expensive, but there was no evidence that it resulted in likely endangerment to the safety of the aerodrome or of persons there.”

So convictions were all quashed on appeal as they were convicted under laws relating to safety and endangerment. Given there have been crashes caused by the current M25 protests then this bit of legal gymnastics surely can’t be applied.

The ecoloonies clearly have a Betelguisian strategist.

“I’m sure we can come to some arrangement,” said Ford. “Excuse me!” he shouted.
Mr Prosser (who was arguing with a spokesman for the bulldozer drivers about whether or not Arthur Dent constituted a mental health hazard, and how much they should get paid if he did) looked around. He was surprised and slightly alarmed to find that Arthur had company.
“Yes? Hello?” he called. “Has Mr Dent come to his senses yet?”
“Can we for the moment,” called Ford, “assume that he hasn’t?”
“Well?” sighed Mr Prosser.
“And can we also assume,” said Ford, “that he’s going to be staying here all day?”
“So?”
“So all your men are going to be standing around all day doing nothing?”
“Could be, could be …”
“Well, if you’re resigned to doing that anyway, you don’t actually need him to lie here all the time do you?”
“What?”
“You don’t,” said Ford patiently, “actually need him here.”
Mr Prosser thought about this.
“Well no, not as such…”, he said, “not exactly need …” Prosser was worried. He thought that one of them wasn’t making a lot ofsense.
Ford said, “So if you would just like to take it as read that he’s actually here, then he and I could slip off down to the pub for half an hour. How does that sound?”
Mr Prosser thought it sounded perfectly potty.
“That sounds perfectly reasonable,” he said in a reassuring tone of voice, wondering who he was trying to reassure.
“And if you want to pop off for a quick one yourself later on,” said Ford, “we can always cover up for you in return.”
“Thank you very much,” said Mr Prosser who no longer knew how to play this at all, “thank you very much, yes, that’s very kind…” He frowned, then smiled, then tried to do both at once, failed, grasped hold of his fur hat and rolled it fitfully round the top of his head. He could only assume that he had just won.

Of course, the next thing they demand will be for the police to block the roads for them.

“So,” continued Ford Prefect, “if you would just like to come over here and lie down …”
“What?” said Mr Prosser.
“Ah, I’m sorry,” said Ford, “perhaps I hadn’t made myself fully clear. Somebody’s got to lie in front of the bulldozers haven’t they? Or there won’t be anything to stop them driving into Mr Dent’s house will there?”
“What?” said Mr Prosser again.
“It’s very simple,” said Ford, “my client, Mr Dent, says that he will stop lying here in the mud on the sole condition that you come and take over from him.” “What are you talking about?” said Arthur, but Ford nudged him with his shoe to be quiet.
“You want me,” said Mr Prosser, spelling out this new thought to himself, “to come and lie there …”
“Yes.”
“In front of the bulldozer?”
“Yes.”
“Instead of Mr Dent.”
“Yes.”
“In the mud.”
“In, as you say it, the mud.”
As soon as Mr Prosser realized that he was substantially the loser after all, it was as if a weight lifted itself off his shoulders: this was more like the world as he knew it. He sighed.
“In return for which you will take Mr Dent with you down to the pub?”
“That’s it,” said Ford. “That’s it exactly.”
Mr Prosser took a few nervous steps forward and stopped.
“Promise?”
“Promise,” said Ford. He turned to Arthur.
“Come on,” he said to him, “get up and let the man lie down.”
Arthur stood up, feeling as if he was in a dream.
Ford beckoned to Prosser who sadly, awkwardly, sat down in the mud. He felt that his whole life was some kind of dream and he sometimes wondered whose it was and whether they were enjoying it. The mud folded itself round his bottom and his arms and oozed into his shoes.
Ford looked at him severely.
“And no sneaky knocking down Mr Dent’s house whilst he’s away, alright?” he said.
“The mere thought,” growled Mr Prosser, “hadn’t even begun to speculate,” he continued, settling himself back, “about the merest possibility of crossing my mind.”