BRISTOL PROTEST DIARY: DECEMBER 2024 - JANUARY 2025.
In which every weekend brings fresh outrage, and I seriously consider moving to Lancashire.
TODAY: Saturday 30th November 2024.
“A policing operation has been stood up for a protest planned in Bristol city centre this afternoon. The protest, organised by Defend Our Juries, is due to start at 1 pm on College Green.”
And so it begins. Again. Another weekend, another policing operation, another cause requiring the occupation of College Green.
This one’s legitimate - jury rights, Trudi Warner, the state’s absolute terror at the prospect of jurors knowing they can acquit based on conscience. Important stuff.
But it got me thinking: what fresh horrors await us in the coming weeks?
WEEK ONE: Saturday 7th December.
Bristol Anti-Bauble Alliance - “Shatter the Sparkle.”
A major policing operation has been stood up for a protest against non-recyclable Christmas decorations.
The Bristol Anti-Bauble Alliance is planning coordinated action across Broadmead, demanding immediate removal of all glitter-based seasonal products. They’ve compiled a 67-page dossier titled “Microplastic Murder: How Your Baubles Are Killing the Ocean.”
Police intelligence suggests protesters may attempt to smuggle eco-glitter into stores for “symbolic scattering events.” Avon and Somerset Police warned they “will not tolerate any incidents involving the deliberate deployment of biodegradable glitter substitutes as a form of direct action.”
Bristol City Council urged protesters to “engage through the proper consultation process on our 2027 Festive Sustainability Framework.”
The Alliance’s spokesperson responded: “We tried your consultation. You know what we got back? A PDF and a promise to ‘take our views into consideration.’ Meanwhile, every bauble sold is an environmental crime. Microplastics don’t wait for review cycles.”
When pressed on whether baubles were really the most urgent issue, she said: “You know what gets media attention? Not carbon emissions. Baubles. Shiny, controversial, photogenic baubles. We’re not stupid. We know how this works.”
WEEK TWO: Saturday 14th December.
Defend Our Mince Pies Coalition - “Pastry Not Profit.”
An emergency policing operation has been stood up following intelligence that activist bakers plan to distribute free homemade mince pies outside Greggs in what authorities describe as “aggressive competitive food distribution.”
The Coalition claims corporate mince pies represent “complete bastardisation of traditional festive baking” with “insufficient fruit, excessive sugar, and insulting absence of proper suet.”
Police sources suggest the operation may require “mounted units and potentially drone surveillance” due to concerns about stampedes. A senior officer noted: “Intelligence suggests they’re bringing really good mince pies. Your nan’s recipe is good. We’re genuinely worried about crowd control.”
Bristol City Council warned that “unauthorised food distribution without proper permits raises serious public health concerns.”
The Coalition’s head baker responded: “They’re worried about our food safety? These are made with locally-sourced ingredients and proper suet. Meanwhile, Greggs is selling jam tarts with cinnamon pretending to be mince pies. But sure, we’re the public health risk.”
WEEK THREE: Saturday 21st December.
Sourdough Justice Collective - “The Great Fermentation Fraud.”
A policing operation has been stood up, demanding mandatory fermentation time disclosure on all artisan bread products sold in Bristol.
The Collective alleges “systematic fraud” across Bristol’s artisan bakery sector, claiming establishments are selling “yeasted bread with added vinegar and a price premium” as authentic sourdough.
Police confirmed “significant resources in place” after intelligence suggested up to 30 protesters may attend with “multiple bread samples for public comparative analysis, which presents unique logistical challenges.”
A police spokesperson: “They’re planning blind taste tests. We’re worried about crowd management if people get emotionally invested in bread quality. Also, we’re not sure what we do if the fake sourdough is obviously fake. Do we arrest the bakers? This is outside our operational parameters.”
The Collective’s founder, a former biochemist: “We tried proper channels. Submitted detailed complaints with pH test results and expert testimony. You know what happened? Nothing. So now we’re doing this. Because apparently the only way to get attention to systematic fraud is standing in the cold with a megaphone.”
When asked if this was really the most important issue facing Bristol, she said: “People are paying £6 for bread they’re told is artisan sourdough when it’s fancy toast bread. That’s fraud. Small-scale, middle-class, hipster fraud, but still fraud. And if we don’t hold bakeries accountable for fermentation times, what hope do we have of holding anyone accountable for anything?”
CHRISTMAS DAY: Wednesday 25th December.
Avon and Somerset Police confirmed a “significant multi-agency policing operation” throughout Christmas Day:
10 am - Clifton Suspension Bridge: “Turkeys Against Tokenism” planning moment of silence for “all birds commodified by festive capitalism.”
12 pm - College Green: “Secular Solstice Collective” protesting “ongoing appropriation of pagan winter festivals” with “historically accurate pagan rituals.”
2 pm - Cabot Circus: “Rest is Resistance Bristol” demonstrating against “enforced jollity and mandatory family gatherings.”
4 pm - The Downs: “Post-Gift Economy Network” burning Amazon wish lists in ceremonial brazier (fire safety approval not granted, doing it anyway).
A joint Council and Police statement urged organisers to “consider rescheduling to literally any other day of the year.”
All four groups responded: “The whole point is that it’s Christmas Day. The discomfort you feel about protests on Christmas is exactly the discomfort we feel about the issues we’re protesting. Sit with that.”
ONGOING THROUGHOUT DECEMBER & JANUARY.
The “Still Christmas” Contingent
The weirdest situation the police have encountered.
Initially insisting Christmas continues until Twelfth Night, they’ve now simply refused to acknowledge that Twelfth Night passed, claiming “the Gregorian calendar is a construct.”
Late January: still singing carols outside M&S, still wearing reindeer antlers, still demanding festive window displays.
Police report: “We don’t know what to do. They’re not breaking laws. They’re just deeply committed to Christmas. It’s late January, and they’re singing ‘Good King Wenceslas.’ One has a PhD in Medieval Studies. Another is a liturgical scholar. They’re very well-informed. You can’t arrest people for temporal displacement. Yesterday, one explained they’re ‘bearing witness to sustained joy in January’s bleakness.’ Either profoundly meaningful or complete madness. We can’t tell which.”
M&S statement: “We’ve tried everything. Hot chocolate. Dialogue. Explaining we need spring displays. They responded with a 40-page document about retail capitalism destroying traditional festival cycles. We’re out of ideas.”
JANUARY: THE HANGOVER CONTINUES.
NEW YEAR’S DAY: Wednesday 1st January.
Sober Solidarity Movement - “Champagne is Class War.”
College Green occupation with herbal tea and “healing frequencies” to demonstrate that “celebration doesn’t require poisoning our bodies.”
Police confirmed “appropriate resources in place, though many officers are recovering from New Year’s Eve and may lack patience for this specific protest.”
One spokesperson, clearly hungover: “Half the force is questioning their life choices. The irony of policing an anti-alcohol protest whilst desperately needing paracetamol and bacon sandwiches is not lost on us. But here we are. Professionals.”
The Movement’s founder, eight years sober with the zealotry only the converted possess: “Bristol’s ‘vibrant night-time economy’ is code for ‘we make money from people drinking themselves into oblivion.’ Every fizzy drink is a capitalist lie. We’re bringing homemade kombucha to prove fermentation can be radical AND non-intoxicating.”
WEEK ONE: Saturday 4th January.
Resolution Resistance Network - “No New Year, No New You.”
Blockading gym entrances at 6 am to protest “psychological violence perpetrated by wellness capitalism.”
Police sources admit “unique operational challenges” as many officers had personally planned gym memberships and are “emotionally conflicted.”
One officer: “I’m standing here having paid £45 for a membership I signed up for drunk at 11 pm on New Year’s Eve, and these protesters are making very valid points about predatory January gym marketing. This is complicated for me personally.”
The Network plans human chains holding signs reading “YOU WERE FINE IN DECEMBER” and “THE ONLY THING THAT CHANGED IS A CALENDAR AND SOME ADVERTISING.”
Their spokesperson: “You were fine in December. You’re fine now. The only thing that changed is a made-up date and manipulative advertising showing impossible bodies. It’s a scam. Legal, socially-accepted, psychologically-damaging, but a scam.”
WEEK TWO: Saturday 11th January.
Dry January Defiance League - “Pour One Out”
Simultaneous “wet protests” across Bristol’s pubs.
Police concern: “It’s literally just people going to the pub on Saturday night, rendering our operation essentially meaningless. Our challenge is identifying which pub-goers are protesters. The League says, ‘the protest IS the normalcy.’ We’re unsure what we’re supposed to be policing.”
Public Health Bristol released a statement about Dry January’s health benefits before admitting “many participants are only doing it because they drank their body weight in Baileys over Christmas and feel temporarily awful, and virtue-signalling on social media may be a primary motivator.”
The League’s spokesperson, halfway through a pint: “This pint is a political statement. Also, it’s delicious. We’re not against people taking a break. We’re against the moral superiority. The social media performance. The implication that having a beer in January makes you weaker than people who abstain for thirty-one arbitrary days.”
Their beer mats read: “MODERATE DRINKING YEAR-ROUND: The True Radical Act.”
WEEK THREE: Saturday 18th January.
The Great January Food War.
Anti-Veganuary Collective versus Plant-Based Extremists facing off across St Nick’s Market.
Western end: Anti-Veganuary Collective demanding “an end to January food-shaming and performative plant-based posturing.”
Their spokesperson: “These people aren’t going vegan because they care. They’re doing it because it’s January and they ate too much cheese over Christmas. Come February 1st, they’ll be first in line at Nando’s. It’s performative bullshit.”
Eastern end: Plant-Based Extremists demanding “mandatory vegan options and an end to veganism as a temporary January trend.”
Their spokesperson: “Veganuary doesn’t go far enough. These people think one month avoiding dairy makes them allies, whilst spending eleven months funding animal agriculture. They’re the problem pretending to be the solution.”
Police deployed riot gear “not because we expect violence, but because aggressive tutting and pointed dietary remarks could escalate rapidly.”
Market vendors issued a joint statement: “We just want to sell food. We’re still recovering from Christmas. Leave us alone.”
One vegan vendor: “I’m vegan myself, and I’m telling these Plant-Based Extremists to fuck off. They’re making veganism look like joyless extremism instead of something normal people can engage with. As for the Anti-Veganuary lot, at least they’re honest about not giving a shit.”
EPILOGUE: THE LANCASHIRE OPTION.
If I were writing this from suburban Lancashire.
You know what’d be happening there?
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
No protests. No policing operations. No megaphones. No earnest explanations of systemic oppression. Just people walking dogs. Going to Morrisons. Living lives without constant performative political consciousness.
In Bristol, you can’t buy coffee without encountering someone collecting signatures. In Lancashire, you can drink an entire cup in peace. Revolutionary.
Don’t get me wrong - most of these protests are about real issues. Genuine problems deserve attention. The system is broken. Change is needed.
But when every single weekend becomes a performance, when you can’t have peace without being reminded that peace itself is problematic.
Suburban Lancashire looks pretty good right now.
In Bristol next week, there’ll be another protest. There always is. I’ll probably write about it.
When I am, it’s glorious.
Bristol: Where every weekend brings a policing operation, and College Green never gets a rest.