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Chicago Bush Protest

Jan 7th protesting Bush in a little safe zone
away from the hotel.
My poster read “War & Tax Cuts for War Profiteers: We Can’t Afford Bush” on one side and “Third World Politics at First World Prices” on the other. The object of protest was President Bush’s Chicago visit on January 7th to talk about his economic “stimulus” package, which while sounding like the punch line to a dumb sex joke, was actually yet another huge cash give-away to the wealthy, corporate class.

Bush was set to arrive at the Sheridan hotel to address the Economic Club of Chicago – and yeah, it does sound like the name of a gangster outfit – at 11AM with him speaking “noonish.” I arrived at the hotel, sign exposed, a little after 10AM. Almost immediately, three of Chicago’s finest were standing in front of me, telling me I had to go to the “protest area” which was only a half-block away, but all downhill. The entire notion of an area where citizens could protest and engage in free speech was too silly to take seriously. The police certainly felt serious about it and I complied. Sure enough, an area was set off with barriers, some wired together to make the barrier modestly tougher. I couldn’t help laughing about it. And a couple of minutes later, another protester showed up swelling our numbers to two. Being there early, I warned the other arriving protesters that they couldn’t engage in free speech until they were safely behind the barrier. It was like something out of an early Woody Allen skit. Here we are, in the land of the free, home of the brave, in our little safe area where it’s okay to protest the warmongering greed heads.

The area slowly filled up, but never completely. I suppose having a protest on a Tuesday morning with bitter cold winds and grey skies was enough to keep people away. The various suits stood outside of the Sheridan, safely away from the free speech area, waiting for a chance to see their whore. Several of them were only in their suits and as they trudged by toward the Sheridan, I began shouting “Wear a hat! It’s cold out!” and “Can’t you afford a coat?” It was childish, but struck me as very funny, and I was laughing a lot. My biggest belly laugh happened when a fat man zoomed by on one of those motorized two-wheeled scooter things – never walk again! Walking is for poor people with too much time on their hands! It was just the right touch of weirdness to an already bizarre scene.

And we stood and shouted and some guys with cameras came by and left and there were some speeches I ignored as I kept my spot up front by the street and held my sign and laughed and talked to other people. I struck up a couple of conversations with the policemen milling about. When things were winding down, I gave away a bunch of zines and shortly after that I took off. It was after 1PM, the summit was over, the president had been whisked back to whatever fantasyland occupies his time and while jeering some the suits long distance was sort of fun, the protest was over.

I have no idea how large the crowd got. I do know that the police and some other guys not connected to the media took crowd photos. I waved. In the aftermath of any protest there is always a slight sense of futility. A guy from the AP wire talked to me, and so did some cable tv guy and a photographer from the Sun-Times. Will I be in the papers? Does it matter? The media presence was light, but the crowd was lighter than it should have been. We will never be
heard if we’re easy to contain in “free speech” areas.
 
 

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