They Don't like it Up 'Em

"You hit our friend!!"
"Fuck you!!"
A handful of Lower Ormeau's finest, looking like the junior cast of Shameless, are taking no shit from these four burly hicks.
A bottle flies. The hicks retreat inside and emerge, each armed with a hurley bat. The locals flee, but not for long. They return with their friends. A dozen scrawny kids, aged 10-16, armed with nothing but their rage, want revenge. Our four brave lads have no fight in them. They're scared of a bunch of children. They run for cover, bolting the front door and turning out the lights.
Double glazing defeats the young one's efforts. In their anger they use the first weapons to come to hand. Empty beer bottles bounce back at them. They kick the front door in frustration. The heat of the moment takes over. No-one thinks to get a brick and put it through the front window.
Our four Hillbilly Heroes call the cops. Two landrovers and three cars, two marked and one unmarked arrive like the seventh cavalry. The locals scatter. A landrover and parked car stay to protect our future lawyers, doctors professionals etc. The other vehicles disperse. They try and fail to hunt down the kids.
It's interesting that the same people who go to rebel night at the Hatfield are the first to call the cops. It's interesting that when they laid siege to residents after BBC's Spotlight the cops stood and watched. It's interesting that they can do whatever they want round here and the cops do nothing. A resident can't even take wood from a skip without risking prosecution. But, when they call the cops for help, armoured vehicles come to their defence. Every effort's made to keep the lower orders in their place, so the wealthy can have their endless party and stomp the little people into the ground.
I admire Lower Ormeau's finest. They know they have no future, like the rest of the Lost Generation. They hate the Provos and fair play to them for that. Some years ago the local Honchos stood guard at the luxury housing complex that backs onto McClure Street. The kids were throwing rocks through the windows and making the cosy tenants most uncomfortable. In the end direct action won. The property developer had stolen their playground. Now he had to put it back. Today kids play on the slide and climbing frame. They have a couple of goalposts on the patch of grass enclosed by a steel fence and private greed.
A class war is played out in the Holyland. Designer Republicans, property developers and Institutional Power against residents and local kids. It's the New Order in microcosm.