This Is What Real “Occupation” Looks Like

Half-assed commie bandwagon protests are a dime a dozen in this town. You’ll recall that Portland hosted another copycat display of pointless public emoting this summer, and Jesse Jackson has to re-route his tour bus every time a cop shoots some nut job waving a weapon. I found a bunch of hippies camping out, smoking pot and beating on drums to be unremarkable.

But cops in riot gear holding ground? That’s something to see.

I predict that riot gear will be the new fetish fad in the gay community. Look for dudes wearing shields, visors and leather thongs in next year’s gay parade. Remember: I called it. 

I was headed to the gym anyway, so I went downtown to take some photos of the real occupation.  It was muddy. I grabbed a copy of the Willamette Week to clean my lifting shoes.

You have to admit, the strategy was brilliant.

1. Let the protesters rally supporters late at night.
2. Observe as everyone parties and sings Kumbaya.
3. Wait until the crowds disperse.
4. Wait until the wayward drunks looking for trouble go home.
5. Send in fresh troops to kick out campers when they are tired, hungover, and unsupported by massive crowds.
6. Move in the backhoe, tear down the tents and erect fences while tired, dirty people look confused.

 I went down to Occupy SF. Very tame affair. They were discussing the importance of non-sexist language and whether to grow a garden. I feel the foundations of the Empire cracking…

* * *

The problem with the Occupy movement from the get-go has been cognitive dissonance. These are, for the most part, the same liberals who cheered for globalist politicians, open borders, and bigger government. They feed the machine they think they hate by breaking down meaningful identities and social roles and replacing them with thin, post-modern identities that are more easily exploited by global corporate entities. They are reaping what they themselves have sown. Tribalism and sexism are bulwarks against globalist expansion. Multiculturalism and feminism are far more convenient to a supranational system which regards all of us only as consumers and units of labor.

As I walked back to my car, the protesters were trying to rationalize their loss. Some woman was shouting about how they were going to “keep fighting.”

Quintus: People should know when they are conquered.
Maximus: Would you, Quintus? Would I?

It didn’t go down exactly like I thought it would.

Funny uncle Sam’s balls dropped.

But, at the end of this day, Occupy Portland did go out with a whimper.