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We Once had a Dream Called Occupy Wall Street #7
Okay, ya’ll, I just spent a little bit of time going over some notes, having some conversations, and scanning some other stuff that came out of that meeting for Aug 2nd. I volunteered to be a police liaison. I should mention that, because it’ll be a big part of post about August 2nd . Also, Isham was making the flyer, and people were waiting on the flyer so they could do outreach. I’d say it’s around July 27th, 2011 now. So, we have about 4 days until the Rally/General Assembly. I also wanted to state that this blog is an idea, that as it progresses, it will be expanded on. I plan on building in an optional user experience that goes past reading. I want the reader to choose if they just read the blog, or if they interact with it, or even if they make suggestions that maybe be entered into the blog. I’m writing a novel. That’s the end plan, but I want to get to that end of the novel with you. So, in a way, we’re going to write a novel together. The first thing I want to do is move this blog off wordpress and onto it’s own website. I own the domains, but not the host space. I guess? Where’s a good place to go? Ideas?
I’d volunteered to be a police liaison for the August 2nd general assembly/rally. I’d chosen to be police liaison on purpose. New York, was new, it was like eight days old to me at this time. So far, I’d spent most my time trying to find local spots with cheap food, a dollar slice here, a 3 dollar gyro there, trying to figure out how to feed myself as cheaply as possible, so I could continue to exist. So, the idea of organizing seemed a little distant to me. I didn’t have a community in NYC, besides the house on Bedstuy, so I figured I’d fill in the gaps, and continue to find my away around. Now, I did flyer. I flyered and talked loudly about what was to come in various places with various people. See flyers aren’t about handing them out, their about starting a conversation. I remember walking into some coffee shop and asking the 20 something behind the counter if I put up the flyer. He took it from me and was like, what’s this about, and I said something like,
“Oh, I don’t really know. It looks like some people are going to camp outside of the stock exchange.”
The barista laughed, “Wo’ah, that seems pretty dumb. You think they’ll do it?”
“I don’t know.,”I shrugged, “I know I’m going to check it out.”
After about 20-30 minutes of talking, I scotched taped that flyer onto the window and the guy told me he wasn’t going to come.
And, I think some people would consider that a fail, since I didn’t recruit him to come, or whatever you want to call it–but when the 17th came, and if it went off, that guy would be sitting around eating with friends and someone would look at their cellphone and turn it waving the screen at those eating with him, “Oh look, some fucking tourists set up a camp outside the stock exchange”
And that dood, who wasn’t gonna come would be like, oh I heard about this, this guy walked in the coffee shop and said something about Occupy Wall Street, I think he gave me a flyer.
Anyway, so my goal was to leave as many nuggets of that in as many different people as I could. I wasn’t from NYC, so figured, at least for now, this was the best I was capable of, and early on, had come to the conclusion, that all that really mattered was that I was going to go, and that I made that decision because I felt something needed to happen, something needed to break the flow of everyday disasters. I wanted to open a rift in the perceived world, and I wanted that rift to filled with us… the people? I guess. With you?
Waitwait, one more thing. You also have to understand that at this point of my life, I was completely politically dead. I’d watched riot police spray away crowds with pepper spray and tear gas, and watched marches melt away under a barrages of rubber bullets. I’d organized and…
So, I was flyering before august 2nd, right? Well, the last time I’d flyered for a protest event, my flyering went something like this. I’d extend my arm with the leaflet towards a passerby, and smile. They’d grab it from me and I’d say,
“Hey, could you throw this away for me.”
Needless to say, something had changed…