Oh, the Irony...

Last night, in my boozer, I spotted a crowd dressed disturbingly in what looked like fash uniforms. They were, clearly, nice kids (story to prove that forthcoming), but it was still a touch disturbing.

Anyway, I asked one what was going on, and he told me they were part of Doctor Steel's Toy Army - apparently, some yanklander artist who specialises in some sort of cod world domination conspiracy and and ironic pseudo fascist movement, to bring a worldwide Utopian Playground about.

of course, it's larks and capers, but I couldn't help feeling, to a certain extent, ideology is lived, as some geezer once wrote. Dressing the same, enacting uniform movements, etc., however fun filled and knowing, is actually living the part of a regimented movement (and for all they know, one or two loons in their midst might be serious, or, rather, might seriously start taking their identity from the cod fash cause).

I'm not saying these people are dangerous, but, like some among the chaps whose ironic throw backed imperial racism (joke, joke) is possibly real. In a good Freudian sense, saying things you think are a joke is a good way to say the things you really want to but feel you can't.

Sorry to be all po faced and contrary to post-modern laughter, but ultimately, I think it's a dead end. The revolution will be boring.