The Strife Of The People And Their March On The Pentagon

My notes from the bus ride read, "Chaos everywhere, people screaming, passing through Newport now; try to pass the time by listening to Devo, Men Without Hats, and Cotton Eyed Joe".

The bus ride wasn't as productive as I thought it would be and a little bit more aggravating. I arrived at the destination and got off the bus around eight o'clock in the morning. The air outside was brisk yet refreshing compared to the poisonous recycled air on the bus. As I stretched out and gathered my marching "gear," people shook hands and greeted each other with big grins. "Are you ready to march! Are you ready to impeach that swine that we call president! I know I am!"

As soon as I straightened up, an over-eager geek of a man bounded over to me and introduced himself: "Ken, Ken Kavitz, pleased to meet ya!" I took a few steps back and introduced myself as Kevin Katz, to which he immediately pointed out the coincidence in both of our names being two K words. "I have to lose this dolt," I thought "or surely I’ll be dead by nightfall."

"Where is this damn thing?" I asked, searching for it. "Right here." Ken swung me around to show me the site. "Holy sh*t!" I said as I dropped to my knees in awe of the vast two acre clearing jam-packed with every single protesting group imaginable.

There were people walking and discussing politics, huge tents of people giving out signs, orgies in the middle of the crowd, just pure bedlam. With a daring step, I plunged myself into the squirming crowd and held my breath for fear of catching typhus.