My Occupied Kitchen Diary. Feeding the 99%. The revolution will be delicious and occasionally vegan.
Friday, April 20, 2012
I marched back and forth with my sign in front of the blockaded Federal
Hall steps for half an hour-- the nice senior parks police official
explained that I could either stand still behind the barricade or march
outside, and I chose motion and freedom. At least the SWAT team was
elsewhere, unlike Tuesday when they wore bulletproof vests.
So I marched. And then I bought hot sandwiches for
the occupiers-- one of the medics almost cried, "This is the best
breakfast I've had in weeks." She was the same one whose partner told
the arresting cops that she had seizures, stop beating her-- so they
threw her head (I could almost see the bruise, still) against stairs.
She was the same one who witnessed cops (during the Liberty Square
eviction) stomp on puppies and throw them in the garbage.
(Unsurprisingly, they lost 4 medics who witnessed that behavior and were
too upset to come back.) She was the same one who had 47 minutes of
freedom between being released and re-arrested. The second arrest, as
she was walking away from a protest scene-- with her lawyer walking
besides her. She was about my height and several stone lighter, but it
took ten cops to beat her up. She was as surprised at her fearsomeness
as I was.
So then I had to get them coffee and hot chocolate--
one of the other occupiers said the medics had stayed up all night, keeping
an eye on the people asleep at 60 Wall, since that is the only place (as
of now) where then can sleep unmolested.
I slept for 11 hours last night, and I'm still tired.
[Edited to subtract some flaming rhetoric that hurt a friend.]
I'm going to blame the tired for the burning words. And/but it is hard seeing the protestors hurting, and I don't know how much energy the rest of the world has to care.