True North

On Monday I decided to go to the peace rally at the capitol for most of the day. As a man of the people, I took the 16 Bus from Minneapolis into St. Paul. There were lots of people on the bus who fit the description of trouble makers. They were wearing scarves over their faces in the John Wayne “ain’t no sandstorm (or tear gas) gonna stop me” style (not the “look it’s part of my religion style”).

One of the guys I talked to on the bus was with a group of students who were going to go around to different protestors and have them fill out surveys. They would also try to get surveys from whatever delegates they could as well. They had done the same thing in Denver at the DNC. It’s part of a university project (don’t remember what University, sorry). The stated goal was to compare and contrast the protestors and the delegates at both the RNC and DNC. Well, I think it’s a waste of money.

I’ll do it right here for free. The protestors at the DNC are at the same location on the political spectrum as the protestors at the DNC. The delegates at the DNC will differ from the RNC in that the RNC delegates are going to be about 80-90% conservative while the DNC peeps will be 80-90% liberal. Well, good work geniuses, I hope the study works out.

Walking around the capitol mall, I took in the very essence of the protests. The angst, the frustration, the paranoia, the weed. Lots and lots of weed.

And hate. Lots of hate.

I got to the capitol a little too early. There were only a few hundred people there at first. I walked around, took some pictures. Using a microcassette recorder I kept track of what I was seeing and what some of my reactions were.

I tried listening to the tape but I tired of listening to 30 minutes of my own complaints about how bored I was. Chants just aren’t good political philosophy (but I’m told they add to a good meth bender). Meth, of course, would have done wonders for what was otherwise really dull party.

Luckily, a group called “Funk the War” were dancing around a mobile speaker sound system. It looked like an entertaining crew and they were walking towards the convention center where I wanted to go, perfect. Another group called “Students for Democracy” led the way as we marched from the capitol into downtown.

The experience was, well, lifeless. It might just be me, but having been around protestors since before the start of the Afghanistan War, the whole schtick is getting tiresome. Either start your revolution or get back to bagging groceries.

As it was, we start walking. Across Interstate 94 and into downtown St. Paul. Neo-hippie-socialists dancing in their hemp tank tops dancing to whatever it is kids dance to these days walking around in downtown St. Paul traffic.

Maybe playing around traffic isn’t your idea of fun, but you’re a capitalist oppressor so stop killing America huh?

The police were posted long the route; humorously the bicycle cops in shorts were mixed in with the riot gear cops. When the group finally decided the perfect place to party was in the middle of an intersection, the police decided to push their fascist freak fly.

Mounted police officers (as in, they were on horses) fronted a large phalanx of other officers in tactical gear. The protesters pushed back against the wall and a huge plume of chemical spray was released into the dancing losers.

Instantly, a rush of people started charging up the street towards me. It’s been a long time since I could reliably outrun the common person. So I was stuck standing my ground.

I watched as some innocent dancing protesters (who were carrying around jugs of unidentified liquid) were subdued and cuffed. Those running away ran into another phalanx of officers who had maneuvered behind us and boxed everyone in. Good times.

As a credentialed media member, I had little to fear from the police. They let me through the line and I slowly straddled to the excel center for day 1 of the Convention.

The protesters had their voices heard, and the message was “Repeal the 26th amendment.”

Cross Posted at the Marty Andrade Homepage