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A30 -- Penniless Power On day two, Still We Rise and The Power People's March continue to fight. A day after half a million people converged on Seventh Avenue to voice their distain for the scum-sucking GOP and its silly cowboy ringleader, thousands again took to the streets, this time to specifically rail against the Republicans for their King Ferdinand-like cruelty towards the poor. At midday on August 30th, the members of Still We Rise, a rough coalition of organizations devoted to issues such as welfare, AIDS/HIV research, homelessness and equality, threaded from Union Square to Madison Square Garden in a demonstration much more energetic than the previous day’s leviathan. More proportionally diverse than the Sunday spectacle, the Still We Rise assemblage primarily consisted of groups marching behind sovereign banners – FUREE, a “multiracial, woman-led organization low-income and no-income workers” led the charge. Despite their meager earnings, they were able to purchase some nifty matching shirts and some bullhorns. Members from Jews for Racial and Economic Justice, ACTUPNY and a host of other groups were also on hand to get it on and popping. A few bandana-scarved Anarchists lurked in a nearby cluster, too busy scrawling lawyer phone numbers and Anarchy signs on each other's flesh to join in the chanting. The main podium was isolated from the crowd by rows of police in riot-gear, but a decent PA system allowed the throngs to hear words of wisdom from AIDS-infected former heroin addicts and long-term welfare recipients. Between speakers, a DJ played songs from Jay-Z, dead prez, Bonecrusher and Pharoahe Monch. For the second day, police remained relatively restrained, at least in regards to the main bloc of protestors. Sure, they had those court-banned metal barriers all over the place, but they were lax about letting people mingle from the march area to the sidewalk. This advantage was quickly used to obtain both cold water and black bean-slathered tortillas from one of those Chinese-owned Tex-Mex joints. At 7:00 p.m., the March For Our Lives was tip-toeing the crosswalk on the corner of 24th Street and 2nd Avenue. Despite being forced to walk in a narrow column, boxed in by a row of scooter and bike pigs, the spirits of the youthful crowd were reminiscent of a high-knee Dutch dance party. Drums banged, kazoos squealed and ratty, red Commie flags waved against the muggy air. Tagged as the protest without a permit, the odds on some grimy pig rushing seemed high, but the marchers from The Poor People's Economic Human Rights Campaign, a coalition of over 100 membership organizations, proved too shrewd to be suckered into any violent confrontation that could result in the destruction of its poor people’s march. The parade swiftly moved towards Madison Square Garden and, at 7:15, a one-man Loosie feeder march slithered down Avenue A in the East Village before being confronted by an undercover bike pig with a buzz cut and a Sicilian-thick Bensonhurst accent. The confused pig expressed interest in finding out what the Critical Mass Bike Bloc was planning for tomorrow. The Loosie one-man feeder stared down his beady eyes and slid off to Tompkins Square. |
What if Rupert's acquisition of the Wall Street Journal is just the beginning? Coming to grips with being famous on the world wide web. A reexamination of St. Patrick's worthiness as the don dada of Irish sainthood. The War Report: Storch versus Timbaland, Chimps versus Humans, Dick Cheney versus Iran. Compared to the thrill of going to war, getting out of one is a tiresome and humiliating business. The Game's new album is pretty good, Fabolous hires a private gumshoe and all Republicans are gay. |
