Pre-Thanksgiving Zombie Talks pt. 3;Where Do They Go From Here?

It would still be an hour before I (ingested all that absinthe) went to watch my favorite local band, Tequila Mockingbird, perform and the preppy kids I smoked some pot with had already left; time to wrap this current survey up and get to the wine bar. I made another round to see who I hadn’t spoken with. The city park grounds were still littered by the circus that I have come to know as the political zombies, the circus of the everchanging agenda. This pack of protesters are a variety of babbling street people suffering the ills of alcoholism, college kids trying to find something to do and gangstas who prey on the weak minded,  all smashed together like different colors of Play-Doh that can’t be separated after joined.

I was speaking with a gentleman who has been filming the scene down on Broadway and Colfax since it’s inception when I looked up to discover my brown pal, Eduardo, making his way into the park. I broke off my conversation with the cameraman and met Ed near a group of squatters chowing down on the free spaghetti provided. Ed seemed a bit calmer, a little more susceptible to conversation, so I started the Q and A with the squatters to set things off. I truly feel Eduardo would like to be more politically active and learn about what this group stands for or intends to accomplish; I would like to know as well. As Aaron, the professional homeless man stated, ‘this group down here is just running around in circles getting nothing done’. The lack of leadership is their blessing and their curse. The Occupy circle-jerk mantra they perform with one another is reminiscent of a high school pep rally for a 12 and 0 team. No one has any faith and the crowd is merely going through the motions, There are a handful of believers like Rick the hyperactive, unemployed cable guy and Miss Kayte, both who have been physically accosted in the name of the cause, but for every hard preaching soldier down here there is a counterpart, a malady from the Bizzaro world, that counters any progress made.

Some of the first things this group needs to work on in order to gain back their momentum is to make an alliance among those camping. Don’t allow the mummies to just lay in their sleeping bags reading dimestore novels, get them on there feet and moving, increase the activity of those who occupy. Second, spread the word and gain recruitment. The number of occupiers tends to fluxuate between fifty to a hundred maximum; they need a steady population of three hundred minimum, shouting and waving on the curbs, bleating their message into the night air while the staff at the Denver Post watches from their fortress across the street. More media coverage means more people attracted; right now few individuals are aware of what’s really going on down there. I rode down to the park via the free bus on 16th Street, a convenient trolley-like transport that rails you up and down downtown Denver’s mid-section and not one individual except myself was gong to the protest. I mentioned it to some out of towners on the bus who were trying to locate their hotel but all they could do is smile and give me that raised eye response, kind of like you give a kid that shows you a picture they just drew and you’re just trying to figure out what the fuck they drew. They weren’t going to get involved but they were entertained by the thought that a protesting mob did actually exist.

The words from Peter, Paul and Mary singing ‘Where Have All the Flowers Gone?’ kept racing through my mind that evening; when will they ever learn? The protestors, Eduardo, they all had a long way to go. The most concise plan I heard coming from the zombies was they wanted to have big corporations investigated for corruption and punished (if found in violation) and big corporate money driven out of politics. I do acknowledge the fear we the people have knowing now that recent Supreme Court rulings will allow our electoral process to become a standard buying practice  of Senate, Governor-hell Presidential positions, which means I can forsee the horizon of American voting to undergo some radical nightmare changes. Investigation of large companies would certainly be entertaining, like watching Al Capone having his fat guido ass hauled off to the slammer, but in order to do that, our country will need a modern day Elliot Ness. So far all we have is the likes of Bill O’Reily and Keith Obermann…not exactly the dynamic duo of corporate crime fighting.  I left Eduardo to deal with the zombies and I made my way back to the other side of town to drench myself in that devil liquid, absinthe, knowing the cold of November would be followed by the ice of December, January and February. Will the protesters survive and keep the cause going? Will they develop a stable, solid plan? Will Eagle Force Five (see earlier blog posts for name reference to ‘Eagle Force Five’) grow to become Eagle Force Five and a Half? Will they ever learn? When will they ever learn?


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