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RNC Vignettes
Sep. 3rd, 2004 02:45 amI am tired. I finished my exams and it took forever to format them. By the time the last title was italicized I was so bleary-eyed, I couldn't make sense out of what I wrote. I tried to get the robot computer voice to read the text back to me, but the computer robot voice didn't do well with theory jargon, so that idea was nixed. I ran into one of my advisors today and he said my essay was great, and that Chair was also pleased with what I wrote. This is good news, since I was under the impression that I wrote completely cracked out answeres, I mean, you get me on a rant about history and mythology, what do you expect?
Tired, surreal humor has been the only way of dealing with all the scary stuff I may write about later when I process it. The implications, the undercurrents for the future, the way our lives are about to be split open in unexpected configurations. The conversations falling into the leaden asleep, or on the staircases, between this cancelled rally, between that unpermitted protests, the seething anger, directed unilaterally, but aggravated by the prickles from this side of things, stupid IMC bullshit, etc. The uneasy feeling in the pit of the stomach when the cops start putting on riot gear. This has happened several times in the last few days.
I spent several hours filming at Ground Zero yon Tuesday where the War Resisters League were planning a silent vigil/march in honor of those who died on 9/11 and during the subsequent wars. The WRL is an old super-pacifist organization, comprised largely of OLD PEOPLE who were not violating ANY laws, their procession was going to proceed in a line of twos on the sidewalk, which you don't need a permit for. In SILENCE. Before they got to march one block hundreds of NYPD with riot gear and those freaking orange nets arrived, NETTED all of them with the freaky orange nets they have been using despite a court injunction against them (as well as random bypassers, National Lawyer Guild observers and accredited members of the press and loaded them onto CITY BUSES which they had conscripted for these mass arrests.).
Wednesday pnts and I did dispatch at the IMC; more than half the calls I got was from people freaking out because their loved ones were detained, and central booking was, just, like, not answering, and NLG was too overwhelmed by their own getting arrested to be able to provide mass assistance. Someone called, worried about his roommate "he is an international student, and he is from India, so he looks, you know..."
In addition to asbestos galore, Pier 57 has motor oil and other shit all over the floor; people come out with rashes, not to mention nerve damage from the plastic cuffs. Shuttled around between cages. The protesters were detained for over 36 hours without being charged. The NLG brought a habeas corpus case for a hearing to court today; the judge ordered the detainees released, the NYPD REFUSED, the judge found the NYPD in contempt and fined them $1,000 per unreleased protester, but the NYPD DOES NOT CARE and neither does the city because as![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fengi pointed out, it's not their money that will be paying for the civil lawsuits that can't set precedents anyway, and even if they did, they would be trampled upon again.
The MNN show was a stress-a-thon. I was happy to do camera tonight, b/c it meant I wasn't in the control room, although I could still hear all the squabbling and chaos on the headphones. Amazingly, the show looked very professional every day.
Late Tuesday night pnts and I were coming back from MNN on the subway. Minutes earlier she had said: "If I don't see another cop for the rest of my life, it will be too many." We were in a mostly empty train car. Like, maybe 5 people besides us. On 34th street the train stops and 19 (I counted them) cops walk in. It's like the twilight zone, where everyone except us is a cop. We exchange bugged-out looks, and then one of the officers starts stripping, taking off his shirt, his kevlar jacket that says IF YOU'RE GONNA SHOOT ME YOU BETTER KILL ME and the next thing we know he's zipping up his pants. We fled the train at 2nd Avenue, laughing hysterically, emphasis on hysterically.
Yesterday I was taking the train, and I saw a tired-looking guy in an NYCLU shirt. He saw my Indymedia ID. We gave each other a little salute. It was cute.
The New York Press had a mostly obnoxious list of 1,001 things to hate about the Convention. A few were really funny, though:
( I sifted through them for you )
Last night we went to the Billionaires for Bush coronation ball where we met up withsaintpeg and her boyfriend. Three people in a row asked if pnts and I were sisters, so finally I just said yes, and invented an entire family history and sibling rivalry on the spot (I am the older one). I was dressed in all silver, metallic dress, silver shoes with high heels, like slipping into a different skin after all week in uber-functional clothing, day in and day out. It was the first time this week that I relaxed a little bit. I stood on the boat, looking down the Hudson at the New York skyline, trying to reconcile...
I don't want to live in America and I don't want to leave New York.
Tired, surreal humor has been the only way of dealing with all the scary stuff I may write about later when I process it. The implications, the undercurrents for the future, the way our lives are about to be split open in unexpected configurations. The conversations falling into the leaden asleep, or on the staircases, between this cancelled rally, between that unpermitted protests, the seething anger, directed unilaterally, but aggravated by the prickles from this side of things, stupid IMC bullshit, etc. The uneasy feeling in the pit of the stomach when the cops start putting on riot gear. This has happened several times in the last few days.
I spent several hours filming at Ground Zero yon Tuesday where the War Resisters League were planning a silent vigil/march in honor of those who died on 9/11 and during the subsequent wars. The WRL is an old super-pacifist organization, comprised largely of OLD PEOPLE who were not violating ANY laws, their procession was going to proceed in a line of twos on the sidewalk, which you don't need a permit for. In SILENCE. Before they got to march one block hundreds of NYPD with riot gear and those freaking orange nets arrived, NETTED all of them with the freaky orange nets they have been using despite a court injunction against them (as well as random bypassers, National Lawyer Guild observers and accredited members of the press and loaded them onto CITY BUSES which they had conscripted for these mass arrests.).
Wednesday pnts and I did dispatch at the IMC; more than half the calls I got was from people freaking out because their loved ones were detained, and central booking was, just, like, not answering, and NLG was too overwhelmed by their own getting arrested to be able to provide mass assistance. Someone called, worried about his roommate "he is an international student, and he is from India, so he looks, you know..."
In addition to asbestos galore, Pier 57 has motor oil and other shit all over the floor; people come out with rashes, not to mention nerve damage from the plastic cuffs. Shuttled around between cages. The protesters were detained for over 36 hours without being charged. The NLG brought a habeas corpus case for a hearing to court today; the judge ordered the detainees released, the NYPD REFUSED, the judge found the NYPD in contempt and fined them $1,000 per unreleased protester, but the NYPD DOES NOT CARE and neither does the city because as
fengi pointed out, it's not their money that will be paying for the civil lawsuits that can't set precedents anyway, and even if they did, they would be trampled upon again.The MNN show was a stress-a-thon. I was happy to do camera tonight, b/c it meant I wasn't in the control room, although I could still hear all the squabbling and chaos on the headphones. Amazingly, the show looked very professional every day.
Late Tuesday night pnts and I were coming back from MNN on the subway. Minutes earlier she had said: "If I don't see another cop for the rest of my life, it will be too many." We were in a mostly empty train car. Like, maybe 5 people besides us. On 34th street the train stops and 19 (I counted them) cops walk in. It's like the twilight zone, where everyone except us is a cop. We exchange bugged-out looks, and then one of the officers starts stripping, taking off his shirt, his kevlar jacket that says IF YOU'RE GONNA SHOOT ME YOU BETTER KILL ME and the next thing we know he's zipping up his pants. We fled the train at 2nd Avenue, laughing hysterically, emphasis on hysterically.
Yesterday I was taking the train, and I saw a tired-looking guy in an NYCLU shirt. He saw my Indymedia ID. We gave each other a little salute. It was cute.
The New York Press had a mostly obnoxious list of 1,001 things to hate about the Convention. A few were really funny, though:
( I sifted through them for you )
Last night we went to the Billionaires for Bush coronation ball where we met up with
saintpeg and her boyfriend. Three people in a row asked if pnts and I were sisters, so finally I just said yes, and invented an entire family history and sibling rivalry on the spot (I am the older one). I was dressed in all silver, metallic dress, silver shoes with high heels, like slipping into a different skin after all week in uber-functional clothing, day in and day out. It was the first time this week that I relaxed a little bit. I stood on the boat, looking down the Hudson at the New York skyline, trying to reconcile...I don't want to live in America and I don't want to leave New York.
