In his new book, Peace Kills: America’s Fun New Imperialism, P.J.O’Rourke casts a cynical eye over four marches that occurred simultaneously in Washington D.C. a couple of years ago.
These rallies, which came together in one mass of futility, had such a dearth of shared purpose, not to mention a lack of talent in political street theatre, that O’Rourke regarded them as “pointless”.
Without being nostalgic, back in the good old days, when skeletons squirmed in King George Square after being nuked by realistic, if cardboard, bombs, political street theatre was not only enjoyable, but chillingly accurate as well.
If we give O’Rourke any credence, then seventy-five thousand activists, or seventy-five or seventy-five million depending on if you’ve talked to cops or organisers, would’ve achieved more for their causes, all seventy-five billion of them, if they’d stayed home and sung Dylan songs instead.
Unfortunately, “Mr Tambourine Man” doesn’t annoy parents like he used to in the sixties, the seventies, the eighties and the nineties (I adore Bob, so I won’t go in for that easy gibe and say he still irritates those with musical taste, and since I also love Peter, Paul and Mary mine isn’t in question).
The assessment that such a huge gathering of humanity (nobody includes hippies and ferals in head counts so the real figure was seventy-five billion) wasted everyone’s time makes me wonder whether I should’ve spent my, well, early 20s, more wisely than going to demonstrations that were perhaps as meaningless as the ones O’Rourke derides.
Given the only people who attended many of them were members of Resistance, the cultish youth wing of the Democratic Socialists, and a few ALP types eager to prove they weren’t careerists like their foes in the right and on the left, there can be no other conclusion drawn; there was a slim chance going to lectures might have been more valuable, even though I was doing political science (“those with dole forms queue in front of me, please”).
At least it wasn’t gender studies, sociology, philosophy, history, education, engineering, medicine, science or law.
While important issues need to be visible and protests can make a difference with persistence, press, shifting public opinion and retrospection, to my knowledge the Prime Minister hasn’t resigned because someone dawdled up Adelaide Street chanting “hey, hoe, hey, hoe, John Howard has got to go, hey, hoe, hey, hoe, John Howard has got a big toe, hey, hoe, hey, hoe”.
I genuinely believe, however, that Australia’s policy towards asylum seekers changed perpetually after Merlin from Big Brother held up a “Free th(sic) Refugees” sign and refused to tell Gretel who in the house had the worst habit.
Though never receiving the attention of Merlin’s stunt, the marches I’ve been to include: several (hundred?) opposing upfront fees, supporting the maritime workers, IVF access for lesbians, against the GST, not in favor of GST on tampons and presumably other sanitary products, International Women’s Day and one at the Irish Club when we were livid women weren’t allowed to dine with the PM.
“Hey, hoe, hey, hoe, John Howard has got to go, hey, hoe, hey, hoe, John Howard didn’t want women eating Irish food of which I know nothing, no, no, hey, hoe, hey, hoe”.
That event was memorable for its thuggish air and the radical who tried to kick a door down (the tucker can’t of been that good, sister), but I also recall the meeting in Roma Street Forum graced with the presence of around thirty students, which was too bad for the union, as they’d hired out almost as many buses as there was people.
About ten of those present were Young Liberals who came to mock; surprisingly they were slightly amusing and it was fun pondering why youthful male right-wingers all wear moccasins and shorts below their knees.
Presumably, it’s because they feel sensible shoes are better for running the country in and that while doing so you shouldn’t get Young Liberal girls unduly excited.
While most of the protests I’ve trudged along in, except the one just referred to and a few others, were worthy and true, I quote O’Rourke in attempting to answer the question of whether any I was at achieved anything: “five, four, three, two/(I) don’t have a doggone clue”.
Another Quote from P.J. O’Rourke’s Peace Kills: America’s Fun New Imperialism
“America is not a wily, sneaky nation. We don’t think that way. We don’t think much at all, thank God. Start thinking and pretty soon you get ideas, and then you get idealism, and the next thing you know you’ve get ideology, with millions dead in concentration camps and gulags”.
As a shameless media tart, I’d invite you to visit my website, but I haven’t updated it for a bit. Nevertheless, you can find it here.