In addition to the bewildered cops in their cars, I particularly liked the rockets being fired almost horizontally by the, err, "youths." That would make a nice artillery barrage to soften up defenses when things get nasty, no? I'm sure it's unlike anything the native Swedes have experienced in their lifetimes. For the way-back locals, it must feel like they've been transported to an alien planet.
Meanwhile, the elites - the politicians, media, entertainment figures and academia - are telling them that if they oppose multiculturalism, they're bigots. If you're Edvin Six Pack, it's probably best to pack up Ingvor and your one child and move quietly somewhere else. The thought that you and the other Swedish lads in your neighborhood are going to stand up to that is nonsense.
Imagine what the Swedish police are saying when they come back to the station house. Just what are you supposed to do if things turn from what looks like a night of fun into something serious? After 20-30 rounds of even the most harmless fireworks, are you going to be in any frame of mind to make rational decisions or coordinate actions? The bangs and flashes must be incredibly disorienting. Do you pull out your little ticket pad and start writing people up?
Finally, dig the trash all over the place. It doesn't look like an Ikea store, does it? Watching it, I was wondering what it looked like the next day when non-revellers came out of hiding in the morning and walked down the streets. The place must look like Beirut.
Oh. Wait.
Life imitating Art, a la The Purge?
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