We can hold One Nation marches every week. It will not make any difference until we revolt against the formal structures of power.
The liberal preoccupation with positive forms of propaganda ignores the root of our problem. The tea party and hate mongers on Fox such as Glenn Beck, however repugnant, are the manifestation of the crisis, not its cause. The forces assaulting the remnants of American democracy will not be cowed or discredited with rallies, such as the one in Washington on Saturday. We will blunt these rising anti-democratic forces only when we organize outside conventional systems of power.
Mass support for anti-democratic movements and public acceptance of open violations of human rights are not caused, in the end, by the skillful dissemination of misinformation or brainwashing. They are caused by the breakdown of a society and the death of a liberal class that once made reform and representative government possible. The timidity of our liberal class was on public display during the march in Washington. Speakers may have called for jobs, but none would call on citizens to abandon the rotting hull of the Democratic Party and our moribund political system or put Wall Street speculators in prison.
– Chris Hedges at TruthDig, 10.05.10
Oh, how I wanted to punch this rally in the teeth.
After happily committing to blowing off that thinly-disguised Donkeycratic GOTV rally, I ended up letting my comrades in the Town Hell Posse talk me into coming out with them to shoot it with the idea of putting together a nasty, sarcastic music video to the tune of the Dead Kennedys’ Holiday In Cambodia.
Jeezus, what a huge-assed mistake. This was, without a doubt, the dullest rally ever held in DC — and I mean the Dullest. Rally. EVER. A rally made of Lame. Not even the Socialist or Green contingents could save this Lamefest. Even inasmuch as my pals warned me what I was letting myself in for, it was still a soul-crushingly wretched scene in its own way even worse than Beckapalooza was in August. No street theater, no puppets, no militant pizazz, no civil disobediences, no genuine sentiment, just a bunch of goddamn’ liberals waving mass-printed placards.I chose to cover the immigrants’ rally and feeder march because it was at the Capitol, five minutes’ walk from my house, and because the immigrants’ protests have always been better as they all come from countries where they really know how to throw a protest. Huh, some hope. The immigrants’ rally was totally overrun by SEIU jerks still proudly wearing their goddamn’ purple Obama ‘08 jackets — and featuring Al Sharpton, to boot. Augggh, Reverend Fucking Al, The Cosmic Media Attention-Sucking Vortex, spouting his standard-issue faux militant boilerplate after opening with a prayer. As usual, there was more God than I could handle at this shindig. I can handle the rightists yelling about how America needs God and Christianity, but the Liberals totally blow my gaskets with their hypocrisy about religious diversity even as they totally ignore atheists and freethinkers (such as yours truly).
It was all downhill from there. I arrived at the Lincoln Memorial just in time to hear some guy yelling about how “we can’t let Obama fail,” or some godawful shit, and I knew then that I was in for a long, hard afternoon. This Kool-Aid tripper was followed by a bunch of students taking turns reciting pieces of King’s “I Have A Dream” speech as if they were in some kind of school Christmas pageant, followed by MSNBC’s Ed “I Know No-THING” Schultz who bellowed his usual partisan line of bullshit at the top of his goddamn’ lungs. You don’t know scary until you see that windbag Schultz yelling at you from a goddamn’ Jumbotron.
Oh, yeah, I almost forgot to mention the Jumbotrons — lots of ‘em. Yeah, nothing says bottom-up, grassroots peoples’ mobilization like a fistful of Jumbotrons.
After I finished having the skin peeled off my face by Ed Schultz’s blustering, I decided I just couldn’t take any more and headed back to the Washington Monument snack bar for a hot dog and a beer or three. Normally, I just couldn’t see paying three and a half bucks for a goddamn’ Budweiser, but after witnessing that weak-assed spectacle I was more than happy for a few overpriced Buds to help me recover.
It wasn’t until I met up with the rest of the Posse and headed back to my house to review the footage that the true wretchedness of what I’d just endured really set in (I only shot about half an hour of tape that afternoon because I knew I wouldn’t be able to stand looking at it again). The more deathly dull footage I saw rolling by, the more I realized that here was five hours of my life I’ll never get back again — and more’s the pity.
