Guest Post by Eva O’Flynn
Today I felt powerful. Strategically placed between The Shard and Sun HQ, we, three teenage girls, sat and ate chocolate biscuits. Intimidating, I know. At least, The Sun’s security seemed to think so! They scowled, pointed and, when the shifts changed, warned each other of the threat that we were clearly posing. To make matters more hilarious, we are a relatively short group (see photo.) You couldn’t even see our t-shirts for all the jumpers we were wearing (until Stephanie ambled over, her tee quite literally glowing. Brilliant.)
At that point, the two police officers who were manning the area joined us. They arrived beaming and, as soon as they heard that we intended to be peaceful, our friendship was confirmed. We chatted about everything, from why they supported the campaign to the worst arrests they’d made and they even dispelled some of the more interesting rumours that we’d heard. They were brilliant, brilliant people. Even one of the security guards was friendly!
From our biscuit-filled perch, we caught sight of a shade of glowing blonde combined with the ridiculous amble that could only belong to Boris Johnson. He was walking away and we were about to lose what we saw as a brilliant opportunity for a comment. So we ran, capturing some brilliant selfies on the way. We were so exhilarated at the prospect of capturing the mayor in a shot with our NMP3 tees that, in the photos, we are beaming. Oh how I regret my facial expression and wish my disgust were visible.
“What do you think of Page 3?” we probed, “Page 3 of the Daily Telegraph?” he responded pompously. “No actually, I read the Guardian. But come on, what do you think of Page 3?” At this point, his assistant began irritatingly babbling in the background, attempting to be clever. I somehow found myself telling our (buffoon of a) mayor in a tone dripping with irony my opinion of the Daily Telegraph’s Page 3. “I think it’s a pretty important page, you know? It’s the first thing you see when you open the paper, it’s right there in front of you, really sets the tone, don’t you think? Do you think that The Sun should potentially change theirs? Maybe, just maybe, boobs shouldn’t be the first thing you see?” Pathetically and unsurprisingly, he didn’t respond. We left him galumphing away to do whatever Tories do.
The big moment arrived. Murdoch was coming. Our two police officers fulfilled their duty, laughing, and the ridiculous number of body guards, less amusingly, attempted to hold us back. We shouted to Murdoch, showed him our tees, but the doors of the car soon shut. Before I could even gather my thoughts, Yas was in front of the car (quite literally in front) and they were rolling slowly towards her. She moved to the side with Stephanie and began to run, Rosa and I sprinting after as the car picked up speed. We were soon surrounding them, forcing the car to stop. We, four smiley, innocent women, stopped Rupert Murdoch’s car.
Today, although it may have been small, I felt like I made a difference. Today, four peaceful women disrupted The Sun. Today, I can say that I personally pissed off some powerful people. It feels amazing.
Read Eva’s original post, and more of her writing, here.