Well we've had days of hope before. We thought we could change the system in the 70s. 22,000 of us at my friend Blair Peach's funeral thought we could turn things round as we threw red carnations in his grave and sang the Internationale. We lay down on the tarmac at Greenham (well, Mrs Steve did anyway, I just delivered logs for the fires...) and the other US air bases in the early 80s. We People Marched For Jobs. I got photographed by the police from the roof of a building and had my phone tapped for manning a CND stall in Loughton. We held hands in big circles, millions of us, to protest against invading Iraq. I've been in so many bloody marches and protests and been threatened by brainless cops. We picketed outside schools and fire stations in the freezing cold at six in the morning. We honked for the NHS outside hospitals in the East End in the 80s. We fought the losing battle for the miners against Thatcher. You think there's a tipping point, eh? Think again. We have Johnson, Trump and Bolsinaro and all the other populist lackeys. We have a dictator for life in the biggest country in the world and a fake democracy that shits on minorities in the second biggest. There's no tipping point. We just have to keep fighting, that's all.