Protest This!

4.11.08

 

So far, the Olympic torch relay has been disrupted in London, Paris, and San Francisco. Looks like the IOC may want to be a little more thorough next time in researching a nation’s potential viability as host for the games. They would’ve done better to hold them in Rwanda, South Africa or Baghdad, the blowback here is seriously going to make it a little hard to care about who wins the 400 meter relay. Heck, they could’ve even tried Athens again; at the rate Greece was going, some of those stadiums should be just about complete by now.

 

I guess you could call me reactionary if you want to, but I really find protestors to be innately “special” people. Not because they’re standing up for something or fighting for their convictions, but because all the protestors I’ve ever known seem to live for the sheer joy of protesting, which on the scale of obnoxiousness falls somewhere between commercials for “Kenny vs. Spenny” (it’s been like half a season already, how is Spenny still surprised when he finds out Kenny cheated? What two straight friends would make their names rhyme? Any grown man who calls himself “Spenny” should be taint-slapped to death with a soggy flip-flop) and those political talk shows where five supposedly intelligent people spend an hour interrupting each other and then wonder why they haven’t arrived at any conclusions. I know that was a Homer-ically long sentence with a paragraph of parenthetical remarks, but the bottom line is this: protestors are annoying. Not the act of protesting, just protestors.

 

You know the guys I’m talking about, you may even be one of the clowns I’m talking about, the soapbox-loving grungemeisters, the type of people who seem to have a closet full of clothes but nothing that didn’t come out of a thrift store or isn’t spattered with tie-dye. They look and smell like they think they’re too progressive/ ecological for daily showers and have at least three arguments as to why soap is a “signifier of corporate oppression”. Yeah, thanks for liberating us Jonathan, I mean Ortiz, but I think I speak for the group when I say I’d rather you traded in a few of your civil liberties for a fresh bar of Lever 2000, at least 1500 of your parts are reeking like a Jersey landfill.

 

Sure you could argue these dear boys and girls are an important part of changing the world, but by protesting to excess they invalidate any chance of regular people relating to them and possibly joining the cause.

 

What constitutes a case of protesting to excess? How about Michael Vick? Did PETA really need to come out; did people really need to take off of work to protest this one? I would be the worst boss ever.

 

“You want to take off early to do what? Damn that, you should’ve lied and told me you had the runs, now get back in your cubicle.”

 

What were we supposed to be protesting there? It’s not like people were actively defending his God-given right to breed dogs for the purposes of abusing, torturing, mutilating and murdering them (not sane people anyway). It’s not like Michael Vick is a big organization threatening to take innocent people’s puppies and use them for dogfights. We’re not talking about a corporation dumping pollutants into a river. We’re talking about one profoundly unethical dumb ass who just happens to have been one of the highest paid players in the NFL and his profoundly unethical dumb ass circle of friends who dimed him out. Was this really something so serious that thousands of people had to come out, make signs, make noise, and make sure his dumb ass went to jail?

 

You know how I know the Michael Vick protests were B.S.? Because if dogfights are anything like cockfights, they’re typically done kennel to kennel (is that the right term? who cares?), so if people really cared about protesting dog fighting, they would’ve stayed on the case and made sure that every last American kennel owner was brought to justice.

 

I was so disappointed, wanted to see a bunch of sadistic fat cats go down like the heads of the five families at the end of the Godfather (seriously, is there a more vindicating moment in the world of movies? maybe in Kill Bill or the end of Death Proof). Nobody did that though, at least not that I know of, so now the whole affair kind of has that lynch mob flavor to it (quick, somebody cue up Billie Holiday’s “Strange Fruit”!) …And don’t blame me for making it racial either; you know that’s not my style, America just messed up on that one.

 

Now I’ve gone off on this huuuge tangent and uncovered feelings about Michael Vick I didn’t even know I had; watch as I undermine all of that previously established near-credibility with this little nugget…

 

You know why I really don’t like protestors? Because they suck to talk to at parties. That’s it. That’s like 90% of my reasoning right there, mock it if you want, I’m mocking myself as I type this, but I’m tired of these fools ruining my Friday and Saturday nights.

 

I just can’t stand getting caught up in a political conversation when I’m chilling, trying to get my drink and dance on, hoping to eventually get my flirt on, yet all of that is rendered impossible whenever a protestor is in the room. You literally cannot have a straight conversation.

 

“So how have you been lately?”

“Well I’d be better if Tibet was free.”

“Thanks for that, I’m really glad you came.”

“We are such capitalist hedonists to be celebrating at a time like this.”

“Yeah, um try this cracker, it’s got cheese and a little slice of salmon on it.”

“You know how many salmon are killed and then rot because greedy fisheries over-harvest their lakes?”

“That’s outstanding. Hey, do me a favor and take this roofie ok? No I don’t want to sleep with you, I just don’t want you talking to me or any more of my guests. No, you don’t have to leave, just pass out so we can take a Sharpie and write on your forehead and cheeks about your profound love for genitals. Thanks for being a sport…”

 

If and when I get rich and famous, I’m going to have a standing rule that all of my hedonistic, Rick James-esque bacchuses feature a separate room just for friends who are likely to talk religion, politics, anything having to do with work or what’s going on in the news. The separate room will have inferior snacks, inferior music and warmer beer. I’ll make sure to hire a bartender with an attitude problem for that room, some belligerent soon-to-be-spinster feminist who tied her own tubes with a tie-wrap and a staple gun and finds the act of serving drinks to be a reviling perpetuation of the pattern of misogyny in our society, but needs another $300 to make rent. There will be electrified dog collars to keep these friends from roaming. I’ll try to give the collars a cool name like “pimp straps” to keep certain people from feeling slighted, but in their heart of hearts they’ll know

 

“Wow, Mike doesn’t really want to hang out, he only invited me because I’m Richard Gere…”

 

If you’re famous, you have to invite Richard Gere to your parties, right? You have to invite him even though you know he’s going to bore the snot out of you talking about Buddhism, and Tibet and what it was like working on “Dr T. and the Women”.  I want to have him and Louis Gossett Jr. over at the same time, see if I can’t instigate a live sequel to that fight from “An Officer and a Gentleman”. Apologies to my boy Weems for referencing Louis Gossett Jr., I know that’s your boy, don’t kill me.

 

I probably should go easy on these well-meaning guys and girls right? After all, they’re only trying to make the world a better place, taking time out of their lives to advocate for those who can’t advocate for themselves, trying to ensure for others the same rights I take for granted every day. My biggest contributions to the world so far have been walking the 5K run for breast cancer research (you had to walk it dude? That’s pathetic like cheap porn, everybody involved is sad for having been there…) and earlier this year I took the morning off work to go to an Obama rally. I didn’t contribute any money to the campaign (what comic has money for donations?), but I didn’t bill my hours to anyone or use leave either, so it kind of balances out right? Jeez, are you as surprised as I am at the extent of my shallowness

 

Okay, I think I’ve ranted and shamed myself enough for now, forgive the length and vehemence of this entry, some days the only bright side of not having a career is not having a career to lose…

 

Mike