REVIEWING THE IMPACT OF THE G-8 SUMMIT PROTESTS

Rap! Rap! Rap! “Ladies and gentleman and those of you somewhere in between, I call to order this meeting of the Committee for Rebellion, Unrest and Destruction, or CRUD, to review the impact of our highly anticipated protests during the recent G-8 Summit and to see if there is any room for improvement going forward. This is an extremely important exercise for us. Otherwise, we might have to go out and get real jobs.” (Yuck! Ack! Perish the thought!)

“I was a little disappointed with our overall results. We had told the world there would be thousands on hand to protest the globalization of the world economy and to speak out on other major issues, like the wanton destruction of kudzu. At last count, there were 17 of us, if you don’t count all the left-wing, know-it-all professors and the pimply faced kids who thought they were on spring break at Daytona.” (Grumble! Grumble!) “Frankly, I was embarrassed that you let 40,000 security people and a few hundred Cruise missiles intimidate you.” (Grumble! Grumble!)

“Mr. and/or Ms. Chairperson, my name is Digby. I want you to know that I did my best to raise the consciousness of the world to the plight of the indigenous tribes of Uruguay. In protest, I spat on the sidewalk in Brunswick.” (Ooooo! Ahhhhh!) “Actually, a sand gnat flew in my mouth and I coughed it up, but 20,000 media didn’t know the difference. As a result, my picture was on the front page of Le Monde in Paris, identifying me as one of the millions of protestors who hate George W. Bush. Next week, the French government will award me the Legion of Honor.” (Clap! Clap! Clap!)

“Wonderful, Digby. Speaking of the media, I will give us this much credit. We provided reporters something to do besides spending all their time scarfing down the free buffet in Savannah and telling each other how important they are. The newspaper coverage of our non-activity required enough newsprint to wipe out the equivalent of half the Brazilian rain forest!” (Yippee! Hooray!)

“At this point, I want to recognize Thelma Thudpuddle, who organized the G-8 Protest Festival.” (Clap! Clap! Clap!) “Thelma, you outdid yourself. I didn’t know that square dancing could be so much fun. The hayride was terrific, as was the Molotov cocktail toss. By the way, the bake sale raised six dollars, which will go to our Acne Prevention Fund for Pimply Faced Protestors.” (Wonderful! Clap! Clap!) “Now, let me call on the scary-looking dude down front.”

“Mr. and/or Ms. Chairperson, my name is Terrible Tom. I am a self-proclaimed anarchist. As you know, I had originally announced I was going to crash an airplane into the place where the G-8 leaders were meeting, but I found out that I would get my fanny blown away by a Cruise missile, so I settled instead for making an airplane out of some reporter’s notebook paper and flying it into the side of a Porta-Potty. Power to the people!” (Great job! Clap! Clap! Clap!)

“Bravo, Terrible Tom. Uh oh! I see Dick Yarbrough, who represents People Having Onerous Opinions of Extremist Yahoos, or PHOOEY.” (Boooo!) “Sir, after the unkind things you wrote about us in your column a few weeks ago, we aren’t interested in anything you have to say. Besides, you are a heterosexual Southern white man.” (Gasp!) “In this country, heterosexual Southern white men have no right of free speech. Don’t believe me? Just ask the ACLU!” (Yeah! Right on!)

“Wrong, bandanna breath. I have the same free speech rights as you misfits, and you are nothing but a collection of pathetic, publicity-seeking losers who think that tearing down your country makes you some kind of super patriots. PHOOEY on you all.” (Gasp! Choke!)

“Mr. Yarbrough, we are more than pathetic, publicity-seeking losers. We are CRUD. Always have been. Always will be. Now, I want you to leave immediately. But before you go, could I ask a favor?  Would you like to contribute to the Acne Prevention Fund for Pimply Faced Protestors? We take American Express, Visa and MasterCard.” (Yes we do! Clap! Clap! Clap!)

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