Strikes, road blocks, pickets, no go ... the various discourses of protest.

The car is frozen up - what do you call that when machinery imitates the human (technological pathetic fallacy?). We leave under cover of darkness - scabs, dissidents, or simply the uninvolved.

We drive unimpeded. If anything the traffic is more fluid than usual. Park. Walk through the gates with - if we're honest - a vague sense of disappointment. Little to triumph.

The return is similarly uneventful.

Yet - as often happens when the quotidian routine is uprooted - there's a pleasure in discovering different relations, conversations, cracks through which possibility emerges.

Irrespective of solidarity with the cause (or not) it has been a Deleuzean day: blocks & flows.