Stewart, Colbert To Hold 10/30 Rallies
Moderator: Super Moderators
Where's Alex? infowars.com
It's a hoot that the media is now taking center stage at these events. We might need to take another look at the Bill of Rights.
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HurricaneJoanie
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The Rally Awaits
I'll be up at half-past dark on my way to D.C. to become one with fear and insanity on the great Mall. I'll file a report on Sunday. Swerdloc will no doubt be the first to post his experience. We'll see how the perspectives mesh. 
STE-phen, STE-phen, STE-phen, STE-phen
STE-phen, STE-phen, STE-phen, STE-phen
It's either real or it's a dream, There's nothing that is in between. ~ Jeff Lynne
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Psychicwolf
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Psychicwolf
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Psychicwolf
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Can wait to hear your report !In case you missed it, or would like to see it again, here's video (courtesy of Comedy Central) of Jon Stewart's "Moment of Sincerity" at the end of the rally (a rare moment of true seriousness -- well done, Jon):
Jon Stewart - Moment of Sincerity - 12:51
Jon Stewart - Moment of Sincerity - 12:51
Anchors Aweigh!Fantastic Song ! Listen to the lyrics !
Kid Rock and Sheryl Crow !
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jTxR4HUD ... r_embedded
Kid Rock and Sheryl Crow !
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jTxR4HUD ... r_embedded
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Cynthia Lynn
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Reluctant though I am to step into the P&G deck, I’ll give a brief report of my experience at the Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear. Mostly, I missed the show, but I certainly experienced the teeming crowds, the costumes, the signs, and the fun and fellowship.
I left home at 11 a.m., thinking (stupid me) that the travel time would be not much more than a normal commute by Metro; i.e., about 40 minutes or so. It probably ought to have been at least an hour earlier because the Metro and the Mall were absolutely packed. My first indication of how things were going to go was when I arrived at the Metro station in Silver Spring and found double lines of hundreds of people waiting to get farecards. I have never been so thankful I had a SmarTrip card, so I got right in…
…to a platform already crowded, waiting for a train that Metro had unwisely decided to keep to a regular Saturday schedule. It was impossible to get on the first train that arrived, so I and a bunch of other folks crossed the platform, got a train in the opposite direction, got off at Forest Glen, crossed back over, and waited to squeeze onto the next train, which I just barely did.
It took about two hours to get there—finally getting off at Union Station (air! I could breathe!) and walking down to 3rd St or so--but there was no clear indication of how to get into the main area, which was fenced off; or even to a place where one could see the Jumbotron screens. I heard some of the program, which was loud but indistinct, in the distance. There were thousands upon thousands of people crowded together, trying to get to someplace where they could enter, but half were going one way, half the other, and a third half trying to cut across. Long rows of port-a-potties were behind the fences, pointing the other way.
After more than half an hour of this I made my way to the edge of the crowd, where it thinned out a bit around the East Wing of the National Gallery; then went on across the street to where I could rest my tired buns for a bit outside the E. Barrett Prettyman courthouse. I made several attempts to call Hurricane Joanie on my cell phone, but service was pretty much unobtainable, just like it was on 9/11, because everybody was trying to use it at once. I just enjoyed the crowd and what I could hear of the program, and sang along with Ozzy a bit on “Crazy Train.”
There were many costumes, and many, many signs, some of them quite clever. One I recall read: "I know the difference between socialism, fascism, and health care reform. Please do not use them interchangeably." I later heard from a friend of mine who saw a young lady in a very nicely trimmed witch costume, wearing a little sign that said, “I am not you.” There were at least two or three Waldos (as in, “where’s ?”) Lots of good spirits and smiles.
Finally, because there was no way I could get to one of the port-a-potties that were behind the fences, I walked over to the Frances Perkins Department of Labor Building, where I threw myself on the mercy of the security guards as an aged retiree and asked if I could use the restroom. They were very nice about it; and after all, I had worked there over 30 years.
Then I slowly walked back to Union Station, and made my way back home, on another train that was filled to the bursting. Almost without exception, the crammed crowds were polite and helped each other out. But the next time I open a can of sardines, I shall do so with respect.
The official permit for the event was for 60,000 people, and although the National Parks Service no longer provides estimates of crowd sizes, my personal guess was that they exceeded this several times over. And though it was mainly “younger” people, do not let the media persuade you that this was just a young crowd. I saw many, many geezers like me.
As for the media, or at least the MSM—forget them. They don’t get it, because they are incapable of getting it. The Washington Post published an article this morning on the rally that was not too bad, but had a little of the self-congratulatory snark that they historically reserve for UFO stories.
I eventually heard from Joanie, after the event was over, and I hope she made it back home okay. As for me, I am resolving to get more exercise so I don’t end up as tired and sore as I did. And maybe watch a replay on TV.
I left home at 11 a.m., thinking (stupid me) that the travel time would be not much more than a normal commute by Metro; i.e., about 40 minutes or so. It probably ought to have been at least an hour earlier because the Metro and the Mall were absolutely packed. My first indication of how things were going to go was when I arrived at the Metro station in Silver Spring and found double lines of hundreds of people waiting to get farecards. I have never been so thankful I had a SmarTrip card, so I got right in…
…to a platform already crowded, waiting for a train that Metro had unwisely decided to keep to a regular Saturday schedule. It was impossible to get on the first train that arrived, so I and a bunch of other folks crossed the platform, got a train in the opposite direction, got off at Forest Glen, crossed back over, and waited to squeeze onto the next train, which I just barely did.
It took about two hours to get there—finally getting off at Union Station (air! I could breathe!) and walking down to 3rd St or so--but there was no clear indication of how to get into the main area, which was fenced off; or even to a place where one could see the Jumbotron screens. I heard some of the program, which was loud but indistinct, in the distance. There were thousands upon thousands of people crowded together, trying to get to someplace where they could enter, but half were going one way, half the other, and a third half trying to cut across. Long rows of port-a-potties were behind the fences, pointing the other way.
After more than half an hour of this I made my way to the edge of the crowd, where it thinned out a bit around the East Wing of the National Gallery; then went on across the street to where I could rest my tired buns for a bit outside the E. Barrett Prettyman courthouse. I made several attempts to call Hurricane Joanie on my cell phone, but service was pretty much unobtainable, just like it was on 9/11, because everybody was trying to use it at once. I just enjoyed the crowd and what I could hear of the program, and sang along with Ozzy a bit on “Crazy Train.”
There were many costumes, and many, many signs, some of them quite clever. One I recall read: "I know the difference between socialism, fascism, and health care reform. Please do not use them interchangeably." I later heard from a friend of mine who saw a young lady in a very nicely trimmed witch costume, wearing a little sign that said, “I am not you.” There were at least two or three Waldos (as in, “where’s ?”) Lots of good spirits and smiles.
Finally, because there was no way I could get to one of the port-a-potties that were behind the fences, I walked over to the Frances Perkins Department of Labor Building, where I threw myself on the mercy of the security guards as an aged retiree and asked if I could use the restroom. They were very nice about it; and after all, I had worked there over 30 years.
Then I slowly walked back to Union Station, and made my way back home, on another train that was filled to the bursting. Almost without exception, the crammed crowds were polite and helped each other out. But the next time I open a can of sardines, I shall do so with respect.
The official permit for the event was for 60,000 people, and although the National Parks Service no longer provides estimates of crowd sizes, my personal guess was that they exceeded this several times over. And though it was mainly “younger” people, do not let the media persuade you that this was just a young crowd. I saw many, many geezers like me.
As for the media, or at least the MSM—forget them. They don’t get it, because they are incapable of getting it. The Washington Post published an article this morning on the rally that was not too bad, but had a little of the self-congratulatory snark that they historically reserve for UFO stories.
I eventually heard from Joanie, after the event was over, and I hope she made it back home okay. As for me, I am resolving to get more exercise so I don’t end up as tired and sore as I did. And maybe watch a replay on TV.
Anchors Aweigh
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Cherry Kelly
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An excellent account, swerdloc. Felt as though I were there. The local color of your comments was invaluable. Think you should be working the DC beat for HuffPo. Get a blog there. Really! You have an wonderful flair for the language and reporting.
Thanks for going, and for bringing the experience back here for us.
Really! You have an wonderful flair for the language and reporting.Thanks for going, and for bringing the experience back here for us.