Donnybrook Does the Democratic Convention! Monday night!
*NEW PHOTOS!! BY NINA BARRY*
For the convention, Donnybrook has representatives spanning the cop-laden streets and the front row seats of Barack’s speech on Thursday. Stay tuned for more useless coverage, with jaunts to Shag Lounge for Discobama in between.
The following is a wrap-up of Monday night from Angora and the Bartender – with live protest footage!
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After a hearty and free meal provided by the Food Not Bombs coalition at the Anti-capitalist rally in Civic Center Park, I joined the Anarchists in their march toward, well, no direction specifically – anywhere we could around the foot-clan (riot cops). We started in Civic Center Park and attempted to march in front of the County building along 14th toward Colfax until we met the police. We turned around and made it as far as 15th and Colfax where, and you’ll see this in the video, we were surrounded. This guy right in front of got maced for trying to get through the police line. He said he wasn’t even part of the march and tried to show the cop his pass and the cop blasted him. I hope he sues. Many people were arrested. Eventually everyone got tired of facing off with the police so most people sat down and eventually after about an hour and half of being detained they let us leave, single file. All in all there couldn’t have been more than 200 of us, mostly journalist as you’ll see from the footage, but the cops had us out-numbered 3 to 1.
I’ve seen some amazing protests before, with thousands of people, the police totally over-whelmed and the whole city paralyzed while the people voiced their demands to the government. Monday night was pretty pitiful, America. I just can’t imagine that only 200 people care enough about their beliefs that they are willing to protest, to disrupt the political fashion show that is the DNC and have their message heard. We disrupt so we can be heard. The whole world is watching. Let’s give them a show!
See you at the picket line.
At around 6 pm Monday night, I dressed up like a ’50s politician’s wife, and Timmy T. and I began the long hike from the Highlands downtown. Once we crossed the pedestrian bridge and the Gleaming Rod, we started to see them in droves: people who looked just a little bit perfecter than the rest of us. They might be fatter; they might be uglier; but their skin is immaculately glowing, their white hair perfectly groomed. They have no wrinkles, anywhere, these people. They smell nice. They are the politicians.
Immediately we met someone famous. We have no idea who he is, but Timmy surmises he’s a senator of something somewhere.
We found MSNBC set up by the Gleaming Rod (does anyone know that landmark’s real name?!) crowds of protesters and this dude on stilts dressed like Uncle Sam. He had a huge clock around his neck (how Flavor Flav of him) and he kept bending over people and asking in a rickety voice, “Excuuuse me young man, do you have the tiiiime?” and when they’d begin to answer he’d interrupt with a finger pointing in the air, “It’s tiiime for chaaange!” Yeah. He creeped me out. Then a fight almost broke out between a guy dressed like a ninja with a sign that said “Just because they’re not paranoid doesn’t mean we’re not out to get them” and an Obama democrat, then a second later they were hugging.
There are times when your moral character is proven to you, times of chaos where your truest hopes are revealed. At this moment, with news cameras and the hubbub of it all, it became apparent that Timmy and I really wanted to get on television. We waved and hollered, we jumped up and down. We called and texted people we knew: check MSNBC. Getting on TV and meeting famous people. This was what we yearned for in our poor, spiritually bankrupt little hearts.
We met up with Fecher, Ivyy Goldberg, Nina Barry, and two honorary Donnybrook members Rachel and Rachel’s Brother, who were both actual political people with uber political jobs. Like, they were actually here for political stuff, not to see Rage or something. I was impressed. We parked it on the patio and watched cars go by, cars with swat team cops bursting out of them on all sides, cars with dudes who looked like Obama. “That might be a famous person!” we’d declare. I drank a slushy drink with everclear. Don’t do it, folks. The others were making polite conversation while I was quietly getting hammered in the corner.
Rachel declared that she had tickets to watch Michelle Obama. Are you kidding? Hells yeah! So we went to the convention center, the one with the blue bear, and how adorable is this? I thought we were really seeing Michelle Obama speak. I mean, this IS the Democratic Convention, and we’re going to the convention center, right? I hadn’t done my research. I was a little let down to find out I was at a “watch party” or “watching party” or whatever they call it – a bunch of people in an arena watching a broadcast of the speech on screens. Why do you have to go through such security to get to this crap? The politician isn’t even there!
But her speech was great. Michelle Obama is a fabulous public speaker because she seems really heartfelt. It could be just vocal coaching or something, but you just believe her. Plus she’s way hotter than any wife of Obama’s competitors. Sure, there was a lot of politician cheesiness, but I’ve been to an inauguration, okay? I’ve heard hours upon hours of “hopes and dreams” and schlockey politician jibber jabber. Hers was a lot more decent. She talked about peoples’ “improbable journeys.” That’s not so cheesy. Timmy didn’t like the speech though, to represent the Republican side. And now back to the Democratic side. She ruled!
Then we jotted back for Young Coyotes at DISCOBAMA at the Shag Lounge. Did I mention the Shag Lounge has slushies with everclear?
The boys were in fine form, three dudes with the oddest assortment of instruments: like ten huge drums, one acoustic guitar and one xylophone. Seriously. As you can imagine, this puts the emphasis, the real balls of the music, in the rhythm and vocals. At times it was like a minimalist Man Man without the crazy, and say what you want about Man Man, but they put on a super compelling show. So did Young Coyotes. Hollerin and poundin on stuff. They’re playing the What Are Records? and Marquee Magazine private farm party on Labor Day. And guess what? You’re probably not invited.
Anyhoo, from the evening’s events, I got the feeling that the real action happens during the day. The DNC nightlife? Not so huge. I mean sure, the bars on 16th street (like Marlowe’s) were bustling, and the cops were still out in full regalia, but I didn’t see any protests or anything of real interest. Not like during the day where, according to our food critic Snootball Foodington, some groups have a mock Guantamo Bay jail cell set up that you can sit in – and later they’re supposed to have water boarding demonstrations.
On the walk back, Street Correspondent Timmy T. and I peeked in on our favorite spot, the MSNBC station. It was actually kind of cool to watch the anchors or TV personalities or whatever talk about the issues. They, too, were perfectly groomed human beings. The cameraman up front told us he was going to pan the crowd in two minutes. So we texted whoever was up and when the cameras went across us, we lost our shit! We cheered and cheered and cheered. And no one saw it, and then we walked home.
Here are some more photos from Nina Barry. Enjoy!