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ALSO! Politics TV tracked a FOX NEWS Reporter at the rally to check and see how "fair and balanced" he was.
link to that video HERE
I still feel the pressure of bodies on me and the sounds of the beating drums and chants from today. The protest today against the Iraq War was massive. Protesting is more than an event, it is a culture. I have seen these people before in NYC, they are the ones committed to the cause, the ones who march and protest all their lives as both a sign of opposition to policy and as a cultural creative outlet.
The ones I recognized were comforting to see, but for every one face I knew, there were tens of thousands that were new. As much as the media will try and frame us as only a bunch of peacnik socialists (and there is NOTHING wrong with peacenik socialists), we were actually a diverse cross-cultural sample of America. From uniformed marching bands to Hip-Hoppers against the war, to people on stilts and old ladies in wheelchairs, from "Republicans Against The War" to "Socialists Against Corporate Imperialism", from every section of the political spectrum we were there in force.
The media play of these protests are important to take note of, for it is my belief that media consolidation has gotten us to where we are today. After all, the coverage that the media gave the American public in the run up to the Iraq War was basically a cheerleeding squad for Bush. It wasn't due to any type of big grand conspiracy, but the media moguls (or shall I say media monopolists) knew one thing: War Sells, Death Sells, Peace Never Sells, at least not in the type of profit that corporations are interested in.
I screamed for sanity today, I screamed for release from the tension that I feel within my own body caused by the actions of my government. I screamed from my lungs with the hope of losing my voice, of making my throat so sore that I would not be able to say another word. I stomped wanting my feet to be so bruised and bloodied that I wouldn't be able to walk for a week. I wanted to raise my clenched fists until my knuckles turned white. I did, and I did, and I will again, because the march of an activist is never over.
The faces that I recognized share a very special bond with me. They'll be there when the war with Iraq is over, however many years or decades that is away. They'll be protesting the war against minorities here at home, the war against third world countries, the war against human dignity and peace and the war against economic equality. They'll be there when the massive crowds leave us, when the media feels free again to ignore us even more than now, and when society points at us and laughs, calling us idealistic bums who need to get jobs.
We'll be here, because we have a marriage to tend to, a marriage between our souls and the soul of the movement. The movement is a neverending movement, with an ever icnreasing battle front, and with countless deaths every day, from Iraq to Haiti to Lebanon, Palestine, Somalia, right back home to D.C. and NYC.
We are a family of the oppressed, of the ridiculed, of the disadvantaged and of the weak. We are an army of the misplaced, of the vulnerable, of the abused and the scarred. We are a batallion of change, a sceptor of light and a helping hand to each other.
Today I honor my family, I saw each of their hardened faces today between the massive crowds that signify an awakening nation.
Author's Note: Although I am currently an intern for Politics TV, my writing does not necessarily reflect the views and opinions of Politics TV.