Monday (August 25th) was the official "Free Speech Day" (of sorts). Apparently the City of Denver had only approved of a certain amount of demonstrations and protests and appointed Monday as their official day of voicing dissenting and otherwise opinions (which, I'm sure, makes sense from the planner's point of view because the Convention wasn't to begin officially until that evening with Michelle Obama's speech). However, the People thought differently.
Tony, Sarah and I woke up, drank the coffee that Nick (Sarah's best boyfriend EVER) had made, packed our day bags and headed out to Civic Center Park - just a brief 15 minute walk from her front door. What was brewing, you may ask? Well, a conglomeration of Prisoners' Rights Advocates, we all were to march (or, rather, walk along the sidewalks in a very controlled fashion) the 6 blocks or so to the Federal Courthouse Building. The Planners had attempted to encounter all sorts of opinions here...Mumia, Peltier, Gitmo, Anarchists, Anti-Government Yellers, the Code Pink Ladies, the Cuban 5, among others. While many of these groups have similar outlooks on the way things should be, we will soon see that when you mix all of these lefties into one big pot, things just turn out like any attempt I've ever made at making soup. In other words, one big hot mess of mushy vegetables.
Here is the procession:
The Cuban 5 are 5 men who were convicted in the U.S. courts for espionage 10 years ago. However, they actually were monitoring Miami-based terrorist groups in order to prevent acts of terrorism in their home country of Cuba. You can read more, and become involved should you so desire, here.
This young lady had the loudest voice.
A common sight here in Denver were these advocates for the Guantanamo Bay Prisoners. I give them points (not in a condescending way, of course) for their conviction. All week they wore these jumpsuits and black bags over their faces while walking with their hands behind their back. Personally, I prefer a bit of diversity in both dress and cause. Never once did I see any of these demonstrators involved in any act of (non-staged-see below) violence. However, after seeing about 50 of these people marching beside me, I became a bit bleh to their message. When one's sincerity becomes a spectacle, does it lose its initial credibility?
Let's pause for Eagle Scouts. Because, you know, rowr.
More journalism.
I feel your passion, brother. Keep fighting the good fight, they may hear you today, but someday they will listen.
Shhh...they're behind you. Actually, the police during this march were quite cordial. Upon leaving the park, a group of these Mounties cut off our procession amidst shouts of "Pigs!" "Fascists!" etc...However, the first horsie cop had mentioned in passing, "We are going to hold traffic for you guys." I thought that was nice.
Yeah, he's so cute he makes me look twice too.
Free speech for all!!! By this point, everyone in the procession chanted the same chants. "Free. Mumia. Abu. Jamal!" "Freedom! Not Fear!" etc... It was a moment of solidarity I could really get behind, even if I didn't agree with each faction's message in totality (but kudos to the nod to Obama's nuclear power plan and the offshore drilling...if he (Obama) wasn't so progressive in social issues like women's and gay rights, I would probably be marching right behind this banner). Instead, I kept going forward:
This picture captures the diversity of this crowd quite well, don't you think?
Walking side by side...almost.
We have arrived! Let the Lefty Drama begin!
I walk faster than Sarah and Tony, that and I was tired of taking so many pictures of the orange people, so I ran ahead to see some of the other groups, thus arriving at the courthouse first.
The Leonard Peltier Rally. See the guy on the left? (Ha! see what I did there? But really, the guy on the actual left) helped me to capture the waterboarding picture below. He smelled nice. He's my new faceless revolutionary boyfriend.
Hell yeah. (We will meet this sign and the shaggy beard below it in a later post).
Please.
These police officers, while striking some imposing figures, were quite nice. When I asked where a trash can was (this is in the lawn of the Federal Courthouse) they didn't arrest me. I don't think in bomb placement terms. This particular police officer just smiled and said, I think you may find one a few blocks down...then I was like, duh, Megan! I just didn't want to throw my cigarette butt on the ground. We shall be talking about litterbugs here in a few...
There is something to be said about the media, isn't there?
Again, we shall meet this sign and its maker in a later post...I will say this one was my favorite out of all of them.
Waterboarding Show - the only violent (albeit staged) act involving the orange jumpsuits. This was a close as I could get, but I was also close to my faceless revolutionary boyfriend, so I was fine.
This one really wasn't as offensive as he looked. We were having a discussion about the fantastic spectacle of lambsicles...and how they are our favorite food group. I asked him to flip me off, only for journalistic purposes.
This is Jim Page. He gave me a free cd, and sang a beautiful song about freeing Leonard Peltier.
I know! I love how Radical Feminists come in all shapes and sizes...
Let me tell you a story about my sister Sarah. She is the epitome of cute (and not just aesthetically, right Tony?) At one point while walking to the courthouse, some anarchist kid dropped his water bottle on the street. Sarah picks it up, taps him on the shoulder and cries "Don't litter my city!!! Would you like me to recycle this for you?" The anarchist kid dips his head in minor shame, and says meekly, "no, i'll take it. thanks."
This is the face of a true revolutionary right here, folks.
Just two girls from Kansas. (Although we weren't ready to click our heels and head home just yet).
Tony standing tall.
It's hard being so revolutionary! I needed rest.
A grassroots effort.
As a non-pot smoker, I agree wholeheartedly with the notion that pot should be legalized and not succumb to the typical American/globalization corporate practices. I think there are much greater things to worry about (like the government laying claim on my uterus) than pot heads. Seriously, pot heads are great entertainment, I wish there were more of them not wasting space in jail.
This is Alex Jones, a radical. Also, this is a kid with a megaphone, another radical. They were shouting at each other (one with the megaphone, the other with a booming tenor). I couldn't make out the argument, but I snapped a few pictures and left the scene just as they started calling each other "racist." TANGENT: This is one thing I don't understand, I didn't hear any racist comments, and even if there were, can one saying a racist comment really make someone racist inherently (especially when the two parties don't know each other personally and could make an educated assessment of actual racist particulars in the other person)? And why do self-proclaimed "in-the-know" people (such as these two), when they disagree end up just calling each other racist as a means to insult and not to further any sort of meaningful discussion (like what it actually means to be a racist and what it means to say racist things)? Both of these characters could very well be racist, but mainly they are just annoying.
I really want a t-shirt that says JOURNALISM CREW.
A quick moment of solidarity before things got stupid.
He was pretty cool, and progressive.
"DON'T LITTER!"
Code Pink Ladies. They were super cute and peaceful. And pink.
At this point, the Leonard Peltier crowd started yelling at the Gitmo protesters, and then the Mumia people got involved, and everyone was shouting about respecting other people's free speech rights, and my cause is better than your cause, and blah blah blah. For about 45 minutes, this demonstration rally was beautiful, an intermixing of various and diverse people and groups of thought. Everyone was getting along and had a great conversation going. And then people got a bit pretentious with their liberalism and started throwing insults. We're all in the same boat people, no cause is bigger than another, the world isn't how we want it (yet), and united we stand, divided we fall (Lincoln, Sham 69).
We left. Sarah went to run errands, Tony and I started our walk down the 16th Street Mall. Just when we didn't think things could get any worse...
Thus spake Megathustra
