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A29 -- Loosie's One-Man Feeder

We slither around the biggest Convention protest ever.

by grimy | 2004.08.30

High noon and we were still boxed in on 7th Avenue and 17th Street. The crowds kept growing, the temperature kept rising and the piggies kept baking. The air smelled like a salty ham shack out of a Laura Ingalls Wilder novel and I could see a troupe of chunky vegan activists ahead twitching, faces cast with a green glaze. It seemed like it was an appropriate time to assembly the Loosie one-man feeder march and kick off its snake trail around the city in an ad hoc nature where it would occasional cojoin with larger feeders while also sporadically burrowing back into the massive assembly areas located along 7th avenue and 5th avenue between 14ths street and Madison Square Garden on 34 Street.

Within minutes of announcing the formation and mobilization of the first ever Loosie feeder march, a one-man feeder efficiently snaked its way out of the 7th Avenue and 17th Street assembly area like a slippery copperhead and slithered up 8th Avenue where the sent of brackish ham became overpowering. The feeder march marched, now rapidly gliding, and wrapped itself around the corner of 8th Avenue and 23rd Street. It came into direct contact with a dense pack of 500 NYPD piggies pleasantly roasting in the sun. The stench was Atlantic Avenue/Fulton Street Subway platform strong and set off nasty internal beef among the first Loosie one-man feeder march. Ranks were equally split between those who advocated direct action, calling for a breach of filthy sty, and those who wanted to continue on to Madison Square Garden and head off the leaders of the main march. As the MSG contingent won out, the feeder anxiously glided past the phalanx of clammy pigs as 500 sets of beady piggy eyes surveyed the feeder.

En route to the house that the Jew-hating Charlie Ward built, Madison Square Garden, tensions repeatedly boiled over between the one-man feeder and pigs blocking the side streets leading over to Seventh Avenue. Undeterred Officer O’Malley and adroit at utilizing its unique mobility, the one-man feeder weaved its way up to 37th Street and 7th Avenue and surreptitiously slide its way right behind an assembly of horse-humping piggies in riot gear. The air was noxious. A miasma of horse excretion and burned bacon. The feeder recoiled and darted like a baby Garden Snake down to 34th Street and 5th Avenue. There, like a sleeping pit viper, the feeder sat coiled in the shade of a bodega awning awaiting the march’s leaders. Before the one-man feeder could shed its skin, a drenched and scary looking Michael Moore plowed around the corner, flanked by Jessie Jackson and Danny Glover, with 200,000 protesters in tow. Cowbells rang, gays danced and dungarees burned.

Like An Eastern Feathered Boa, the one-man feeder writhed its way into the Bush hate-mongering snake pit. It was an eclectic and simmering soup of New Yorkers and out of towers: limousine liberals, anarchists, homothugs, union workers, teachers, artists, and downtown tastemakers. After several blocks of marching, the temperature in the snake point had rocketed higher and the one-man feeder had a wicked case of cottonmouth – Texas style. So it eased its way over to Park Avenue where a pack of melancholy bikers from the Critical Mass group were laying around on the steamy concrete in plastic handcuffs. A contingent of scooter pigs had yoked them up, halting the one-man feeder’s plan to merger the bike feeder. But like an unflappable Bull Snake, the one-man feeder picked up steam and headed towards Central Park and the Great Lawn where thousands of protesters were to amass following the march. The snake march paused at the Falun Gong protest on 57th Street where small Asian women were being caged and tortured by mock Chinese soldiers. In the lush sylvan woods of Central Park, the one-man feeder forged through the undergrowth like a young Sidewinder. The Lawn was spotted with a few thousand civil-minded and aged protesters but no real prospects for violence looked likely. So the one-man feeder crept out of the park and headed towards Harlem. Traveling rapidly up Lenox Avenue, the one-man feeder march concluded its 130-block march by entering the Polo Grounds projects to take a breather like an African Black Mamba.

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