The Lunatic

This last Saturday, April 4th, was like previous Saturdays, featuring foremost the early afternoon anti-ICE, anti-regime protest at the intersection of Howe and Arden in Sacramento.  We raise anti-MAGA awareness and gather horn honks.  

You meet many wonderful people at these protests; people who have decided to fight back against the fascism being imposed on us all.  Nevertheless, this Saturday there was something new - a stranger I hadn't seen at previous protests - namely, a lunatic.  As a class, lunatics are an interesting group of people.  Always something new with them.

The man was bicycling past and started shouting at the protesters.  I decided to see what he was shouting about, in part, because he seemed to be a bit menacing. What I found was, like all lunatics, he just wanted to be heard.

First, he denied that this was a proper protest at all, and complained about the organizers.  "These people are just trying to get money, to be useful to politicians, hoping to gain power for themselves," he said.  I replied, "No, these people are all volunteers. It's not the best place for political ambition, The organizers are two brothers. We're all unpaid."  "No," the lunatic said, "they aren't brothers, they are 'brothers': they're gay!" I replied, "The brothers are brothers in the sense they both have the same parents."

I noticed he man emphasized God and Jesus, and had an East-Bloc accent.  The man noticed my "Ukraine WILL win!" protest T-Shirt, and said, "I'm from Ukraine.  I was hunted like a rabbit as a child, for my beliefs, until I came here." 

So, the man appeared to be a Christian dissident of some sort from the East Bloc; full of conspiracies, convinced of his superiority, and probably prone to East Bloc vices like anti-Semitism and homophobia.  

The man also seemed to feel he had control of the Heavens. He said, "Have you noticed the last several evenings the Moon has always been in the same part of the eastern sky?  That's me!"  By this time he had laid down his heavily-laden bicycle and sat on the pavement.  I used the shadow of my protest sign to shield his eyes from the Sun as he spoke upwards to me.  "Watch this!" he said. "Let me see the Sun."  I moved my sign and he addressed the bright Sun: "INTENSIFY!" he shouted.  He smiled with self-satisfied pleasure.  I looked around.  Everything seemed just as bright and sunny as it had been before.

I thought about the philosopher Michel Foucault, who proposed that in the West there were three successive  systems of knowledge, or épistèmes: classical, medieval, and modern. Shortly before Foucault passed away in 1984, people asked him whether we were at the dawn of a new épistème, or not.  "No," he replied. People asked what would succeed today's modern épistème then? "Nothing," Foucault replied.  

That's a problem, because it means there will be no common mode of understanding.  All modes will co-exist.  People will reach back to previous understandings for support as the modern épistème degrades.  That's among the reasons we see Flat Earthers gaining in popularity today, as well as people who are convinced that their thoughts move the Heavens. Instead of seeing a lunatic, Foucault might see someone whose time has not quite yet arrived.

The lunatic was thankful that I listened to him.  He grabbed my hand and prayed to Jesus for me.

A motorist waiting for the traffic light honked at our protest.  The lunatic took offense. "Hey, maricón, why are you honking at me?" he demanded.  "In solidarity?" the motorist replied.  Embarrassed, I stepped forward told the motorist "Thank you for your horn honk."

Thinking also about Pink Floyd's 1973 "Brain Damage." I was never too fond of this song, but it's gaining relevance with the passage of time:

The lunatic is on the grass
The lunatic is on the grass
Remembering games and daisy chains and laughs
Got to keep the loonies on the path
The lunatic is in the hall
The lunatics are in my hall
The paper holds their folded faces to the floor
And every day, the paperboy brings more

And if the dam breaks open many years too soon
And if there is no room upon the hill
And if your head explodes with dark forebodings too
I'll see you on the dark side of the moon

The lunatic is in my head
The lunatic is in my head
You raise the blade, you make the change
You rearrange me 'til I'm sane
You lock the door and throw away the key

And there's someone in my head, but it's not me
And if the cloud bursts thunder in your ear
You shout and no one seems to hear
And if the band you're in starts playing different tunes
I'll see you on the dark side of the moon

(I can't think of anything to say really, except)
(I think it's marvelous)