And hey, if all that shit fails, you can always try complete and utter madness. Looks like it's working out great for these guys:
#6. These Pants: They Are Unjust.
"Welp. We had a good run, clothes, but an end must come to all things ..."
Nobody sings the blues like a black man. Nobody slaps skanks like a latina woman. Nobody drinks like a Scotsman, and nobody -- but nobody -- protests like a South Korean. When you're unhappy about something in South Korea, you don't write a wussy letter or file a pansy petition. You slap on your fightin' underwear and make like Michael McDonald: You take that shit to the streets.
This particular image is of a South Korean soccer fan after his team lost to Switzerland in the 2006 World Cup. Though he was doubtlessly overcome by the futile rage that poor ball-handling imbues in us all, this man chose not to manifest it via something as pedestrian and vulgar as violence. No, he marched right out into the middle of the road, as both police and rioters swarmed all about him, and the world in general devolved into anarchic chaos, and he said, "You know what? Fuck pants."
And he's right. Goddammit, he's right.
#5. Kanellos: Canis Tumultus
Jesus. That looks intense, whatever that is. But wait, this is an article about protesters. So where are they? Are these actually rioters disguised as cops, or was this one of those "protest via self-implosion" deals?
Nope: It's the dog. The dog is protesting here. That's Kanellos the Riot Dog, and if you've seen this image before, then you know what's coming:
Are they fleeing together from an unseen enemy, or is Riot Dog just about to fuck up a brother with poor color coordination skills?
Keen observers will note that, holy shit, that's the same Gas Mask Guy from the last article! Greek riots are like The Expendables of social protest.
A riot dog has been seen in every single riot in Greece for over a decade now. Notice I said "a riot dog" up there: That's because Kanellos is only one of three potential riotous canines. There's also Thodoris and Loukanikos, who are often mistaken for Kanellos because they have similar coloring, and all wear the same blue collar (that's not a conspiracy; it just signifies that a dog is current on its shots in the city of Athens).
If you're a little disappointed upon learning that the Riot Dog was not just one remarkable pup born with an innate love of tear gas only rivaled by his inherent dislike for The Man, take heart: The other riot dogs -- Thodoris and Loukanikos -- are most likely Kanellos' pups, carrying on his legacy.
That's right: Much like brachycephaly and hip dysplasia, intolerance for social injustice is a hereditary trait.
#4. The Protesting Clowns
Isn't that cute? Those clowns are affably mocking those police officers. I bet everybody's having a lovely, light-hearted moment in the midst of an otherwise tense situation up there. Except, of course, for the cop on the very upper right. Something about his posture is off. He looks a little scared, actually ...
In fact, most of these cops look pretty frightened:
"EeeeEEYAAH!" "Haha, Bill, keep it together you can't be leEEAYAAAH! Holy shit I just saw it!"
But why? They're just innocent clowns! Hell, they're not even really that: They're actually protesters who've dubbed themselves CIRCA, the Clandestine Insurgent Rebel Clown Army. And like most every 20-something doing some ridiculous bullshit, CIRCA seems to be taking themselves way too seriously, as Sociology 101 vomit like this illustrates:
"The methodology of rebel clowning was developed as a way of trying to overcome what we perceived as some of the deeper problems in the way we behave as radicals towards each other, ourselves and our world. To share and disseminate this form, that we termed 'rebel clowning'"
So they're not even real clowns, just self-important college kids who need more attention than ordinary rioting nets them. Why are those cops so scared of them, then? Oh, I don't know, maybe they faced down this terrifying goddamn wall of charging clowns earlier that day, and are still suffering from Acute Post-Traumatic Clown Stress Disorder.
I can not even comprehend the kind of trigger discipline it must take not to just reflexively terror-fire into the tsunami of grinning clown-flesh about to break right over you, but I do know that every one of those officers who came out of this experience with dry pants deserves a fucking Medal of Valor.
That's terrorism. That counts as terrorism.