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Friday, September 8
I've been doing reporting long enough that I know laughing while interviewing someone is usually not a good idea. It was still difficult to keep a straight face while speaking with a young protester yesterday who said he traveled around the country demonstrating because he was an "anarcho-syndicalist."
Not that he or his views were funny. It was just that as he expounded them, in the back of my mind a guy with an English accent, straining to be heard over the sound of clapping coconuts, delivered the same spiel:
"We don't have a lord. We're an anarcho-syndicalist commune ... Look, strange women lying on their backs in ponds handing out swords ... that's no basis for a system of government. Supreme executive power derives from a mandate from the masses, not from some farcical aquatic ceremony."
Regardless, you have to give some sort of grudging respect, if just for consistency, to a guy with a button reading not only "feed the poor" but also "starve the rich."
posted at 8:23 PM by Timothy J. Gibbons | link
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Thursday, September 7
Damn bureaucracy! Evil one world government! All I want is a freakin' press pass -- with some 2,500 journos already accredited, one more's going to make that much of a difference? At least I'm not the only one ...
posted at 4:27 AM by Timothy J. Gibbons | link
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Wednesday, September 6
Fall is here! OK, well, not really ... but when I woke up this morning, there was that special tang in the air that heralds the season of dead leaves and hot spiced cider.
I grew up in Pennsylvania, but spent the past two years in Florida. My entire time there, I talked about how odd it seemed not to have "real" winters: I had moved to the Sunshine State, after all, from Cleveland, home of horrendous snow. But the white stuff wasn't really what I missed. It was days like today -- when the air has just a little bit of a nip to it, enough to give cuddling a reason; when summer isn't quite gone, but you know Christmas is just 'round the corner; when -- to fall into Celtic mysticism -- the veil between worlds weakens the most, as summer readies itself to end and winter to being. Autumn has always been my favorite season and this year, newly returned to the North, I'm perhaps enjoying it even more.
I can't wait for the leaves to start changing ...
posted at 2:24 AM by Timothy J. Gibbons | link
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Tuesday, September 5
The island sounds started several subway stops before the parade. A young man, barely in his teens, began drumming on a railing, using his palms and fingers like he knew what he was doing. He only lasted for a few minutes, but he provided a taste of what was to come.
New York's West Indian Day Parade. One of the largest such gatherings in the world. A day where reggae ruled the streets and flags of a dozen island nations snapped in the breeze. A day when meat smokers made of large cans perfumed the air. A day when everyone, even a white guy who wouldn't touch the goat curry could maybe, just maybe, have a little bit of rhythm.
posted at 6:21 AM by Timothy J. Gibbons | link
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