OK, time to storm the Bastille but I can’t find a taxi. Ever notice how you can’t get a cab when it’s reigning terror? Finally commandeer one. Zuccotti Park, I demand, which as any New York Times reader can tell you, is the revolution’s base camp. Corner of Broadway and Liberty, yes, I said Liberty, dude, and make it snappy. I got a power structure to tear down, ya know?
Cabbie says you can’t get near it, cops won’t let you and even if they did, traffic mess wouldn’t. OK, just get as close as you can. Not gonna get into a struggle with the proletariat; need them for allies.
Perfect day for occupying. Warm, sunny. Downtown streets crowded, as always. Growing presence of cops indicates I’m getting closer to the demo as I stroll east.
Now hit Broadway and here they are. Marchers streaming up the avenue, holding signs, banging drums, snapping photos of each other. Cops line the curb, separating protest from traffic, carefully keeping faces expressionless. I slip into the stream and march along. Amble along, really. We chant.
Occupy Wall Street!
Something’s off. Hey, wait! We’re going the wrong way! Wall Street’s downtown, not uptown. Nobody listens. Oh, well, always a lot of confusion in revolutionary times.
Today the unions join us. This was in all the papers. And right on cue, there’s one now. Cluster of people with signs: PRC Supports You. Great, if the PRC’s with us, we cannot fail. (Anyone know what PRC is?)
Will never be defeated!
At corner of Worth Street, march halts. People mill about. Then a non-leader (this is a leaderless revolution!) is on top of something, shouting. We’re going to Foley Square! Don’t allow gaps! Stay on the sidewalk! Pass the message on! Crowd happily yells back each sentence at him. Tourist bus comes by; tourists wave at us, take pictures.
Banks got bailed out!
We got sold out!
Foley Square an epic scene. The crowd in its thousands filling the big open space. The courthouses and government towers framing us. Protesters with their banners and flags thronging the iconic steps of the State Court building. Bands playing, kids dancing. A forest of arms topped by phone cameras, snapping, snapping. Chants getting chanted.
This is what democracy looks like!
Somewhere over there, in the park across from the courts, someone is speaking over a PA system but where I am, you can’t make out the words. Over here, we’re just listening to the music, looking around, enjoying the spectacle of ourselves. After a while, checking my watch. Legs getting stiff. Got a show to catch. Also, truth be told, don’t really want to be around for the part where someone sticks his toe in the street and the white shirts start pepper-spraying.
OK, I did my bit. Got the revolution started. Now it’s up to the rest of you.