Allah knows what you're thinking. "Morons on stilts. Please tell me there'll be morons on stilts."
Oh yes. Yes, my friends, there will. And so much more.
During the week or so of activism, look for groups like Reverend Billy and his Church of Stop Shopping Gospel Choir, the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence (a gaggle of men in nuns' habits), and the Clandestine Insurgent Rebel Clown Army (a squadron of George Bushes in "mission accomplished" flight suits). Meanwhile, so-called "people's acoustic orchestras" like the Hungry March Band, the Infernal Noise Brigade, and the Rude Mechanicals Orchestra will provide a rousing soundtrack, as will the Radical Cheerleaders, who shake their pom-poms to an anti-Bush-Cheney refrain. In a class of their own are the Missile Dick Chicks—an a cappella singing group purporting to be from Crawford, Texas, who wear missile-shaped phalluses and sing songs like "Shop! In the Name of War."
I'm wondering if the Art Sluts will show up.
Who, you may ask, are the Art Sluts?
Once upon a time ago (during Gulf War I) when I was an active member, the Libertarian Party of Minnesota was holding their Tax Day demonstration by the west entrance of the Minneapolis post office. We were handing out our party theft day literature to our fellow victims of socialist compassion. I was at the time wearing a dress shirt and tie to distinguish myself the Grassroots Party in their more proletarian garb. This didn't always succeed, as there was one woman who thought I was pothead and exhibited a near-psychotic fear of same.
But since the Grassroots crowd were a bunch of socialists perhaps that fear wasn't so irrational.
At about ten p.m., a dozen (my estimate, I didn't get an exact count) female humanoids (they were shaped like females) in tight black somethings came marching by wearing gas masks (not something one would want to wear in cold weather) and big--like three foot wide--yellow bows with price tags marked "$60,000,000,000" They were handing out little red cards identifying themselves as "Sluts for Peace/Art/Humanity/Sanity and the Earth". (With a name like that, did they really expect to be taken seriously?)
One side of their card read:
Midnight approaches. Let's talk about death and taxes. (They weren't very talkative) How much did you pay? For what? We see red. (One really can't see very much in a gas mask.)
The other side of the card read as follows:
Stay where you are now silent, or
Let us assist you in asking
Universal Questions about life.
This is it, our only life on earth;
Speak to your heart.
Now if they really wanted an emotional conversation (Oh wow man! Reason! What a concept!) the least they could have done was to leave a phone number where they could be reached. As it is, this was simply another instance of mindless posturing, (possibly a "New Age" voodoo ceremony or a audition for a NEA or other government arts grant) interfering with rational political discourse. I had to explain to someone that I was not one of the Art Sluts before he would take one of our Libertarian theft day fliers. At the time I thought that at future demonstrations I should wear my BDU Woodland pattern cammo jacket.
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