Monday, May 01, 2006
ILLEGAL ALIEN SOCIALIST WORKERS' TANTRUM DAY
aka “Mow Your Own Lawn Day"
Welcome to the Parade of Useful Fools We Demand Day in Santa Rosa CA. [your intrepid reporter willing to brave all and travel afar - bringing the faktoids to you]
Better than....
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Gen-yew-wine Azteca dress complete with body make-up!
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Iddn’t that Dubya’s phrase? Clever. Who do we bring “out of the shadows cue eerie muzak” next? Thieves? Carjackers? Highway robbers? Zombies?? Democrats?!?!
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The usual flag-as-clothing mistakes… Mostly Mexican flags—the US flags were [mostly] on sticks ‘n’ poles.
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Though some came in ‘colorful native costumes.’ Pretty.
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A few local gringo socialistas.... “Living Wage Coalition”
I never did figger out what this sign said—liked the un-happy face, tho. Muy dramatico. You’ll notice that the level of banner-carrying skills is low with this crowd. Muy low.
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Here we have a drive-by-dancing in time to the ‘Sí se puede’ chant. Most of the folks driving by were honking in supposed support. I imagine anyone who actually knew about the march took another route.
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Reconquistas heard from: “I didn’t cross the border; the border crossed me.” Funny… That person doesn’t look old enough to have been around in 1848. Must be the hot peppers.
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There were a couple of “Today I march - Tomorrow I vote” signs, along with another couple along the lines of “There are 20 million of us and our children will vote.”
I’m just wondering how long someone hasta be here in this country before he realizes that wandering around in public wearing a bandito mask is, in itself, a hostile act…
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Here’s a local Moonbat of the Middle-age Matronis variation carrying her oh-so-clever “Immigrant Hugger” sign. ho-de. ho. ho.
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There were still lots of Mexican flags in evidence, though it seems danged near everyone got the white shirt memo. There were more US flags than Mexican and a coupla few I didn’t recognize or couldn’t make out.
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Marchers passed 6-8 deep at an estimated rate of 100 people per minute for at least 20 minutes and we came upon the march somewhere after the front lines were out of sight. However, despite the shouting, chanting, drumming and horns, the audience on the other side of the street was somewhat more sparse.
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This banner read “Legislators Why Don’t You Get A Real Job?” As you see, though the point is apt, the banner-carrying skills are somewhat wanting.
On the right of the shot is the sign most in evidence, a home-stenciled “No HR 4337” with what I take to be a stylized Mexican eagle on top/bottom. These ware mass-produced as mebbe one in every 10-15 people had one.
There was a smattering of Gringo Moonbats—maybe 20 that I saw—scattered widely in twos and threes. One lone older woman carried a pretty sign “Thank You for Our Food.” Apparently only the fella who picks the crop gets credit and to hell with the guy who puts it all on the line to buy the seed, worries over the weather, ensures the soil is in balance and the water reliable, fights off the Eco-Wackos, Planning Commissions and Eminent Domainers, organizes the harvest, markets the product and puts it all on the line all over again for the next year’s crop. Another lone fella on a bike had a hastily-made, brown cardboard sign with the reassuring message; “No War but Class War.” Keen.
Everyone marching was enthusiastic and well behaved. I saw not one rowdy group and everyone obeyed the March Matrons who were riding herd on the street side about one per block’s worth of marchers, clipboard in hand, shouting encouragement to chant and stopping the stream at lights. All the cops looked bored, which is grand.
Still and all, it made an impression to see that many people—people I meet on an every day basis and damn near always enjoy—walking along in an organized fashion demanding that my country stop being a country while staying strong enough to support them. Odd feeling, that.
As my parade companion pointed out, “Not one sign I’ve seen has any relationship to reality.”
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When my Grandma was little, May Day meant you picked some pretty flowers and hung them in a basket on the doors of your friends, rang the bell and ran away. In my Mother’s day, they had May Day ribbon dancing around the May Pole at school to celebrate Spring and break up the monotony of a hard, midwestern winter.
...just sayin’
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