*Review is from 2011. Blog post started on June 8, 2020.
I do not know if I am feeling accomplished from the past week/weekend. This is probably a good feeling since Donald Trump's Monday actions meant my week was dedicated to trying to be involved with the social movement. All I did was march on Saturday, and not even the whole route (The march was started as I got off work. I did earn the blister on my foot though. My black size 8 Chuck Taylors must have felt abandoned since Riot Fest.). It did not feel like I could make much of a difference, and all I did was declare the side I was on.
It was awkward. I could not tell if I had messed up wearing a white shirt (It was for feminist puck legends "Bikini Kill".) or if there are just too many black shirts being made. Declaring my support for Black Lives Matter was why I was there, but being outwardly vocal is not sober me. What would my Saturday have been like if I had started up the liquid courage at 1 pm? Probably dehydrated on a MTD bus and still miles from home.
This was my first protest, so I would think making rookie mistakes are understandable. Like anything else in life, it is about learning. Which means I am doing more than the likes of @tasmaniacal1 and @spolymathe. The experience did enlighten me about the thought processes of those who focus on being compassionate.
I will not be advocating for the Party of Liberation and Socialism because they call for too much of an overall in the electoral system, but it gave me a better perspective on how abusing non-whites is a practice of Western nations when it comes to the rest of the world. The event was peaceful, but it was attended by people that know there is time to literally destroy representations of the evils of the current economic and justice systems. As long as there are people like those, it makes you feel like we can make a difference.
Hopefully Mom understood the passion for change that I have. I am presuming that is why she just shouted, "No!" and left the room after I told her these marches cannot end until the federal government provides us with motivation to end them. You cannot have a world that is safe for only one set of people. The fear for my safety is something that feels right. There is a war, and you cannot sit on the sidelines.
The best thing about this war, thus far, is that the whiny bitches who came out for lockdown protests are too scared to come out with their guns to counter protest. It either indicates that they know they are on the wrong side of history or that they are not murder hungry assholes, just scared little white boys who solely own weapons to make up for their insecurities.
By talking about my experience, I am left thinking that maybe I am too hard on the second amendment. People need their tool of death to feel validation, so you cannot outlaw them. That is bullshit of course.
If it is about working hard in this county to show your worth, buying a gun instead of saving to buy that sports car means you are out to take short cuts. What kind of American does that make you?
I would say lazy, but I did not make much of an effort to transition to the concise movie review below. But when I recall that effort does not do so many Americans any good, lazy is something I can be comfortable with. Perhaps the hopes of getting to kill someone who may just be trying to survive makes gunowners watchers of the wall instead of undereducated sociopaths who feel life owed them the power to end someone else's.
Read the rest of this blog and other stories at Main Event of the Dead.com and determine if this thought process can be translated into a B-movie comedy about pro-wrestling
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