[328]
06/14/2025 Saturday. Papers boxes. CRISIS ETC HQ. Ridgewood, New York.
Just got back from protesting and boy are my arms tired. [From holding up a sign and an umbrella.] I said it before and I am saying it now: Don't Make Lincoln Puke. The march was wild. There were so many people. When I got out of the train and onto the street I heard a guttural roar coming from my left a few blocks over, it passed by me and then took a right down the street and trialed off multiple blocks later. It was terrifying and exhilarating and sent some of those chills up and down my spine as the bridesmaids say.
I showed up late because the trains were doinked. Getting to Manhattan was easy, but when I went to transfer to the F train it was a crowded house. We needed something so strong to carry us away, but the train didn't come. The longer I stood there, the crowdeder it became. At one point this busker guy came around looking for money. I reached for my wallet, but he disappeared into the crowd too quickly. A while later the train came and it was too packed to get on, but somehow the people I was surrounded by managed. I did not, however, preferring to get my dose of Covid 19 the old fashioned way, by waiting in a crowd on the platform. I moved to stand against the wall and the busker came back. As I put the fiver in his floppy, stained, paper cup he said to me, "Don't worry, I don't use this money for drink or food, it goes into my savings." I laughed. He wasn't joking, but he showed me his teeth. He obviously didn't pay the ten thousand for the laser treatment. I hadn't seen that many missing teeth since I read the Calgary Flames's yearbook.
By the time the next train came there was as many people on the platform as there where when the first train came, so I got on, cramming myself into a nook that would have made [redacted #1] blush. [These are complicated times and making a joke like that, although funny, does not help matters.] Though, what if there was a way to write something with very offensive jokes with the punchline covered in scratch-off opaque latex? That way, if you are offended by the joke it would be your fault, not mine. Pretty good loophole. Or maybe, at the end of the screed I could have a list of the answers, numbered and printed upside down. Like a test key. I don't know, just trying to keep it clean is all.
I took the Frottage Express to West 4th where they kicked us all off because somebody was having a medical emergency and the train was being rerouted. It took me a while before I noticed I was on the A/C platform now. I ran down two flights of stairs in time to see a sardine packed F train leaving the station. Dispirited, annoyed, but strangely [the MTA, man] resigned to my fate, I waited ten minutes before the D train came, an actual express train, that had so few people in it I could have sat down. I didn't because that is a surefire way to get a wet fart to the face, but it was an option. Plus it was only two stops to Bryant Park. I walked onto the street where I heard that guttural roar traveling up and down the spine of Fifth avenue and 39th street.
The rain was falling and a million people were all heading the same direction. I was supposed to meet up with Michael and PeeWee, but the 50 minute train ride took me an hour and a half, so I told Michael to save himself, I would catch up if God put it in my cards. I watched the parade of anger for some time. Waiting for Jess, who was running as ate as I was. I must have stood there for ten minutes before I realized I was on the wrong side of the throng. I waited until the crowd stopped moving and then I pushed through, emerging onto an empty street and ten police officers looking bored. It was odd. Those police officers. It reminded me of a childrens march for climate change me and Rambona went to when G was like ten. I was there as a chaperone for G's class. Rambona was there to support. But it was funny how un-serious the cops took the protest. Which was a good thing! Don't get me wrong. I don't think the cops should be looking to bust heads at these rallies. Quite the opposite, but back then, I remember feeling irritated that they were so dismissive of the cause. Like they didn't expect violence. Which is good, I suppose, but that issue is still very poignant in our political landscape, and honestly, if there is ever a need for police to be around, it is when children are protesting. To actually protect things for once instead of aggravating things and doing racist shit. But maybe it is a good sign the cops this time, today, were looking bored? Like maybe they were told not to bust heads? You'd think it was because this is New York City and the cops must be liberal or at least left leaning, but in case you haven't noticed, cops don't operate that way. They protect the status quo. The status quo in America is [redacted #2].
Jess showed up eventually and I was ready to get my protest on, so we immediately hopped into the fray and started yelling, "I!C!E!" when the lady with the blow-horn asked, "How do you spell racism?!" or "How do you spell injustice?!" Then somebody yelled, "They will not replace us!" and the entire place broke out into laughter, I could hear the hahas and yucks travel up and down the entire parade like a Slinky. When it got back to us, I could feel the wall of air it produced so acutely that it felt like somebody smacked the back of my head. Then the beach balls came out.
The going was slow because the crowd was so large. At every intersection as well, the people in charge of crowd control, not the police, mind you, a very smart thing, I mean, either Eric Adams is really phoning it in, or he is terrified of starting something that he would be blamed for because it would certainly be his fault. My guess is the phoning it in is where he seems to be positioned. Giving me more proof that the great men theory of the world is a whole bunch of bullshit. People are decently good and don't need to be harangued into behaving decently and it is only agitators that get credit for fixing problems they create. A great leader does not need to be involved with crowd control at a peaceful protest. Cops don't need to be involved with crowd control at a peaceful protest. Sure, have them on stand-by, so what, the entire job of cop is to be on stand-by, but why put them in the mix if you don't have to? Oh, whoops, my point was that the parade of anger had to stop every time the light changed from green to red. To let cars drive cross town. Imagine that. Stopping a thousand people at a time to let people drive across town. As Sarah Schullmann once reminded us, "Conflict Is Not Abuse."
The crowd was chanting and holding up signs. Drums were played. Thousands and thousands of people, marching for democracy. Randomly, a man recognized Jess from the play he was just in. Up ahead I heard somebody blowing a whistle and in my mind I assumed a cop was directing traffic. Which was a funny thought. I pictured that guy who does dance moves, from all the movies in the late 80's with regard to NYC, how they used to show how playful the city can be as a contrast to how dark and scary cities are.
We slogged along and along, making slow progress. Up ahead I knew Michael and PeeWee were doing the same, but it was impossible to catch up. I suppose we could have caught up, but we did not try, there was no urgency. The real solution would have been to have them stay still until we caught up to them, but essentially the parade of anger was basically waiting in line for airport security but with slogans. Drones flew overhead. Taking video. Tourists and lookyLues stood on the sidewalk treating the protest like a parade. At one point I saw an AppMan trying to get across with a square bag of commerce, typing furiously on his phone, who seemed committed to pretending he couldn't make it across, but excuses are excuses, especially when you don't want to do a shitty job. It reminded me of when Jacob, the drummer for Uwe, back in the 90's "accidentally" left his bike unlocked when he was a bike messenger and the bike was "stolen". I mean, the protest wasn't in honor of support for the working class, but in principle it was. I wish the man with the square commerce package would have dropped whatever packages he was delivering and joined the march. But there was nobody from Hollywood there to write his character development. But he looked like he was more annoyed than inspired, even if he thought change would be coming by joining a protest. Even if he didn't want to actually do whatever horrible job he was doing. And he was not a young white guy who just wanted to play drums. The true shame of the working class. An artist who refuses to bootstrap. However, had it been Jacob, that would have been cool if he dropped the package on the ground and started playing marching drums. He is a very good drummer.
For a while and a while the anger parade continued. Jess convinced me that the protest would go all the way to Washington Square. I said I didn't think so. That was too far. The last one of these I went to started at 14th street, Union Square and ended at Washington Square, which is on Fourth street. I thought there was a permit you needed to get to go further than something like that. I didn't really know, but these things are pretty disturbing with regard to city travel. Imagine paying the congestion pricing $9 to drive over the bridge and then getting stuck because of a protest that runs from 42nd street to West 4th? Sure, the city knew about it and accommodated it, but it wasn't a parade. And Jess told me that the Dyke Parade did that route. I said I didn't know what the rules were. Jess said he didn't know what the rules were. I didn't care. Jess said that he cared and wanted to know. I said, Why? So we can protest better? And he said that he just wanted to know what the rules were. Then I felt like a boob for not having intellectual curiosity, but parade laws?
[insert protest picture]
We reached the end of the parade and were informed that we should disperse. A lady holding a high viz flag told us to disperse. I thought that was funny. The entire "Riot Act" was based on people hanging out for too long. Essentially, she was just being kind, being nice. Keep it moving, she meant, but wait, I thought we were all Commie bastards that needed our skulls kicked in for wanting healthcare and a place to sleep? What we were doing was anti-American. "Where are the weapons of mass destruction?" I bellowed. She bellowed back, "America runs on this, you Commie fuck!" I was confused and begged her to explain, "On what?!" I bellowed, she said, "On [redacted #3]!"
Jess and I walked down to the Broadway/Laugh Riot stop of the F train. It was sardines like on the way coming uptown. I said, when we got on the train, "If I wanted to live like a sardine, I would have gotten an apartment in the ocean!" After some consideration, I said, "Maybe what I should have said was, If I wanted to live like a sardine, I would have gotten an apartment in a tin can!" Nobody laughed. Not even Jess. He smiled though.
Key for Redaction is replace number with alphabet letter.
B=2 U=21 T=20 T=20
#1
1,14,14, 5 6,18,1,14,1
#2
25,15 13,1,13,1
#3
4,5,5,26 14,21,20,26