In the Sixties, demonstrations tended to be paroxysmal and associated with distinct political events. The demonstrations of Trump II are different; a marathon, not a sprint. I've reoriented my Saturdays to focus on protest, particularly the anti-ICE protests at Howe about Arden, 12-2 p.m.
The experience of protesting involves getting good feedback and dealing with bad feedback. Fortunately these sorts of anti-Trump demonstrations are popular with most Sacramentans. Lots of people honk their car horns while waiting for the light to change at the intersection, and more honk when they start moving again. Still, there are people who disagree with us. I see people fumbling with their rusty hands and relearning how to throw the middle finger.
I see my role as being to walk up and down the sidewalk, making eye contact with people waiting in the left-turn lane, bidding hello to people, having brief conversations, acknowledging horn honks with a "we're not worthy" dip of my protest signs, and basically functioning like the human Facebook equivalent of a "Like" symbol to their expressions of support. I like the engagement with people. It's much harder to get that kind of interaction at other kinds of protests, like banner drops, where the protesters are not at street level.
This last Saturday (Sept. 13th) I had some fun interactions.
One of the protesters likes to speak through a megaphone at drivers while they wait at the light. She reads good educational material from a prepared text on the screen of her phone. Looking at her phone, she had just pivoted on the sidewalk and started walking north again, when I saw a woman in a car in the right turn lane decide to ambush her.
The car had an open sunroof. The woman picked up a large cup from her center console and hurled what appeared to be fruit punch through the sunroof at the protester. Trouble was, the edge of the cup struck the edge of the sunroof. Fruit punch sprayed all over the interior of the woman's car, across the top of the car, onto the pavement outside, and basically absolutely everywhere except on its intended target.
Some of the protesters were a little unnerved when a fellow drove his convertible into the parking lot and started staring at us. The fellow was wearing a red cap with white lettering spelling out "Whiteboy." With his Popeye looks he appeared to be a caricature from backwoods Appalachia. I exchanged a few words with him when he first arrived and I didn't think he posed a threat (but you never know).
There isn't much time to get messages across. Sometimes you think of better comebacks only long after the interactions. A fellow drove up and asked in wondrous but defeatist tones: "Do you think that any of what you are doing accomplishes anything?" I replied, "Yes, I can't think of a better way to use my time right now." He replied "Oh!" Later, I realized I should have explained further that the protest also has expression on social media - TikTok, Facebook, and the like - and thus a larger reach than was available for Sixties protesters.
Walking up and down the sidewalk I say hello to folks, but then I saw a balding white man at the wheel of a pickup truck muttering to himself. His eyes were blinking fast. It looked like he was about to stroke out from unwillingly viewing political opponents on his day off. So, I pressed in, walking into the stationary traffic with my signs, making certain he could clearly see them. The man refused to interact, but I looked over to another vehicle with two black women inside, who were watching the scene unfold. They had big grins on their faces.
Another balding man driving his pickup truck out of the parking lot didn't roll down his window, but he did take off his red cap to show me the "Make America Great Again" lettering. Wow, the pickup truck's paint job was on a MAGA theme. I vigorously shook my head. We didn't exchange any words.
I decided to get aggressive with my new protest signs for this Saturday. Since leftists are completely cleared in Charlie Kirk’s killing, it’s time to celebrate by pitting fascist factions against each other. Did Nick Fuentes or Laura Loomer order Kirk’s execution? Or did someone else? Was it actually Tyler Robinson’s idea to shoot Kirk? Or maybe he did it just for the 4chan lolz? If so, we are deeper down the rabbit hole than I thought. From the limited-information available on Friday, September 12th, when I made the sign, I decided to go with the conservative Mafia gang war angle - the angle that is most-useful for liberals right now.
A driver waiting for the light to change called me over. "Do you support the killing of Charlie Kirk?" he asked. I knew immediately where he wanted to lead this conversation, and I didn't want to go there. "Well, that's an interesting question," I answered. I stalled with evasions and prevarications, but time was running out. The light was about to change. He cut to the chase. "That's the trouble with you nutjob liberals!" he exploded in rage. I shouted back at him too. I stepped out of moving traffic back into the stationary right-turn lane, where I was immediately startled by loud, enthusiastic cheers from four teenage girls leaning out the windows of their sedan, who had witnessed the entire confrontation.
Charlie Kirk came up again. A woman bravely shouted from a pickup truck in the left turn lane, "Thank you for reminding me what a great man Charlie Kirk was!" I replied, "Charlie Kirk was a BAD MAN. A very BAD MAN!"
Elsewhere - I couldn't identify the vehicle - I heard a sincere, plaintive wail: "Charlie Kirk was a FATHER!" I shouted back that Charlie Kirk was a BAD MAN. I probably should have gone further about all the murdered school kids in America and how they have fathers too, but there just wasn't time.
The role of a protester isn't to be nice, it's to be truthful. It's time to start getting rough with conservatives and their sickening excuses for murder. This is especially the case now, when people are being fired from their jobs just for expressing their opinions.
I'm looking forward to next Saturday.
