Author: Charles Céleste Hutchins

Yesterday was very exciting. I took part in an unpermitted march against the School of the Americas, which started from Ground Zero and was set to go to Madison Square Gardens. A bunch of cops, wearing polo shirts that said “TARU” on the back were busy videotaping everyone. TARU stands for Technical Assistance Responce Unit. Their cameras were right in people’s faces and clearly meant to be intiomidating. I had read on indy media that morning that cops were overheard talking about deploying “sound weapons.” That could only mean the 150 decibel “megaphones.” I had earplugs in my pocket. We lined up for the march. Delegates were going past in busses, getting a “tour” of ground zero. Every car on the jammed street was a cop car or a delegate bus. Right as we were about to start, the police arrested the first one or two hundred people for standing wider than 2 by 2 and thus blocking the side walk. We stayed lined up, in a pretty long line, waiting for instructions. They were confusing. Finally, some guy said we were going to do the die-in right there, so everyone broke ranks, but then re-lined up to march. Some black-clad anarchist was getting agitated. He wanted to do something for the people being arrested. I asked him what and he spun into an impassioned story about how he had been stopped by the police somehwre (Maybe a checkpoint in Israel??) and the woman in front of him had started giving birth and he cut the umbillical cord with a rock! And so we had to do something. Wow. Ok.
We walked in a 2 by 2 line spanning four blocks, towards Union Square, our new destination. The kids behind me were too radical for this march. We had to stop at stoplights and stuff. So boring. But you know, I’d rather march someplace than get arrested at the first stop light. Then we ran into a nother march or maybe another part of the same march, and lined up behind them and started towards Madison Square Gardens.

For those of you who don’t know Manhattan geography, that is a long long walk. They formation we were in made it hard to do chants, cuz we’d get out of synch. So we walked and chatted. The mother daughter team in front of me had an argument about a yoga class conflicting with violin lessons. The duo behind me congratulated each other the entire way about how radical they were. somebody a few rows ahead was wailing away on a little drum. BOOM boom boom boom BOOM boom boom boom BOOM boom boom boom. Um, yeah, long, tedious march. I kept hoping that we would pass a donut shop.
Despite the arrests, the march more than doubled over the course of it’s length. People we passed were generally supportive. Several people explained they wished they could march, but were at work. One guy who was partially disabled thanked us for marchng. We passed Washington Square Park and there were Quakers also demonstrating for peace.
We headed up fifth av. Around 11th street, word went down the line that folks who wanted to do the die-in should move to the front of the march. We were joined by a bunch of green-hatted observers from the National Lawyers Guild. This is a great group. They pass out information about what to do if you’re arrested. The observe marches. They negotiate with the police. In other fronts, they’re fighting corporate personhood and they’re the folks who sued to get California to revoke Union 76’s corporate charter because of their human rights and environmental abuses. Micheal Savage, conservative nutjob, calls them “a commie front organization.” They’re awesome.
We got all the way to 25th or 27th and apparently the cops said we couldn’t go farther, so all the folks who werre going to lie down in the street did so. Somebody was standing on top of some trash, leading the croud in chanting “NYPD listen up!” followed by the text of the first amendment. Congress shall make no law regarding the establishment of religion…. I think I now have the first amendment memorized.
The organizers were telling us not to block the sidewalks, but were widely ignored and then gave up. There was a huge crowd of press and bystanders and gawkers and protesters, all blocking everything. The bike cops all hopped on their bikes and headed out. Were they leaving? No! Cola and I ran to the end of the block and jumped over a bike in a gap to escape. They closed the gap right behind me. Standing with bikes lined up like that is a very effective way to block in non-violent protesters. They can’t really get over the bikes and they don’t want to fight with cops. It looked like everyone on the block would be arrested. A bunch of people were lined up, trying to get out. Then the cops got the order to move and just block the people who hadn’t tried to leave.
It was late, so I left. Cola and I ran into a Billionare for Bush, putting on is costume. He had bling on, including a rinestone encrusted dollar sign to wear around his neck. There were tuxedo shirts for sale cheap donw the block, but id din’t get one. My pants were filthy. I could never pass as a Billionare.
Cola and I decided to hop on the subway and go to the Metropolitan Museum, but then it was swarmed with cops. Drumk republicans carrying bags marked with the Pepsi logo were emerging from the Museum. Apparently pepsi threw them a party. They were exceedingly well dressed. Cola speculated that they were donors and bigwigs and not lowly delegated. The party did have an exclusive air. The bigwigs or whatever, seemed to have no nervousness about hailing cabs, maybe it was because it was the upper east side. There was but a single protester. We did not join him.
we took off for the Second Ave Deli to meet with Jess’ friends. Right across the street, at St Mark’s church, the bike block was playing drums and dancing and giving away free food. We hung out for a bit and then went to the deli to meet Jess and Co. Her boyfriend is a socialist. a couple don’t talk politics. One is a adamant zionist. One is a republican. The loud zionist critized the demonstartaers. If they’re out in the streets not even listening to Bush’s speech, how can they criticize him? indeed.
Cola, Jess’ boyfriend and I walked over to Un ion Square where there was a huge croud of people and a bunch of cops. Then it got near time for the delegates to leave, so the cops all left us to our own devices and… everything stayed exactly like before. The speaker was still shouting. People were still handing out pamphlets. Folks were still sitting on the shteps. All being leftists and radicals without being watched, and my, everything was fine. Imagine that.
Before all the cops left, a bike cops was in the middle of the croud talking to people about how tired he was and how cops have to keep the peace and when they had a prtest for higher wages, they were put in a pen too and they didn’t like it, but they knew it was for public safety and it’s true that some cops are dicks. Heck, he’s worked with dicks and . . . then a supervisor appeared and told him to stop talking to people. He’d been out since 8:00 that morning and it was nearly midnight by then. The cops are getting tired, which is really not good. I was exhausted, and I’d only started at 3:00 pm and I didn’t have to worry about terrorists or whatever the cops are freaked about.
after a bit, we walked back to Rebbie’s apartment and stole her Cynar bottle and headed up to her roof with it and sat and sipped some cynar, decompressing. NYC makes me tired. Protesting makes me tired. Protesting in NYC makes me completely exhausted.
I took like a hundred pictures of all of this, but then my camera did something weird to the formatting on both of my memory sticks. I’ve reformatted them, but I fear they will be eaten again, sicne it did it to both. alas. I’ve only had this camera for 5 months.

1. No hills!
2. Few cars!
3. Taxis are less clueless than SUVs
4. Excitement!
5. Faster than subway or busses
6. free
7. get to see the sights

I was riding uptown. Cola was following me. We went past a bunch of the convetion hotels. Police had closed many of the side streets. Cabs were darting around, but the busses weren’t stopping. I was going the same speed as the slow lane. Cars cutting around. A cab stopped in front of me but the doors didn’t open in my path. It’s scary and fun. Coming back, we went through an empty Times Square. Garbage trucks were scooting around. There was goo in the streets from where sidewalks had been hosed off. I got a drop of something sour and foul in my mouth and was spitting on the way back. Semi trucks rumbling around. Traffic was moving faster, since there was no hold up. Scarier. But I felt safer than I would in San Francisco. The drivers are professionals. They’re paying attention, even if many of them are on speed.

Things I love about NYC

Every street is famous. Every corner had a famous event, a famous club, a famous person some piece of history, dripping from every location like water from the air conditioners. I love the subway. I love that I can hear the insects in Central Park when biking by. I love the teeny galleries, the little parks, the nighborhoods. I love that there are a billion extremely talented muscians all over the darn place and a billion venues and some of them even seem to have funding.

on the other hand

the city is cooking. It’s being steamed. My skin is sticky. The urine on the sidewalk is heating and rising. The particulate matter is sticking to my skin. The rents are insane. I have to be on all the time, dealing with strangers, navigating a downtown, being aware of my surroundings. The city is overwhelming huge. How long would it take to bike away?

ok, so the convention hasn’t started yet, but the protests have. First let me say that I haven’t talked to a single New Yoker who is happy about the Republicans coming. Quite the opposite. Several businesses have signs that say something about welcoming peaceful protesters. One hotel is welcoming republicans. Actually, probably many hotels, but not that many have posted signs. Bloomberg, NYC’s venerable mayor has floated a proposal where out of town protesters can sign up on a special list with the police and in exchange, they get a peaceful protester sticker that they can use to get discounts at many Manhhttan buisinesses, such as Starbucks!. Wow! I was going to break their window, but now I think I’ll just get a discounted crappiccino! The only drawback is that I have to give my name to the police. Shockingly, I have not seen anyone wearing these stickers.

Nicole arrived on Friday. She came in the JFK and hopped on a bus to Grand Central Station. I met her there and we went down to SOHO, where we’re staying with her friends Creighton and Rebbie. They lent us bikes and we went right away to Critical Mass. This ride has been happening for ten years, but this time, the cops announced that it was time to start enforcing traffic laws. Whatever. Indymedia was reporting 10,000 bicyclists, down 45 city blocks. It was peaceful, but it did stop up traffic. Maria sais that she had never seen midtown so empty.
The next morning, we went with Nicole’s friends Wendy and Pinky to the pro-choice march across the Brooklyn Bridge. That was very peaceful and actually very hot and dehydrating and dull. the cops all had croud control handcufs and riot helmets and body armor, but they were all wilting in the direct sunlight, none of them wearing their helmets. They didn’t want to arrest us any more than we wanted to be arrested. Then, that afternoon, we went to the Ring Out. It was lovely sounding actually, hearing the sounds of bells ringing circling ground zero. Organizers were expecting 3000 people. I don’t know how many came, because the WTC took up such a large space and people were all around it. It seemed like there were more media than ringers. Several wire services snapped my picture and then asked for my name, but A google news search seems to indicate that my image didn’t go out. A San Francisco chronicle reporter told Nicole she would likely be on the front page, but her image didn’t show up anyplace on the web site. It’s not the first time I’ve been outnumbered by press while protesting, but it’s still odd. I ran into Aaron, my Wesleyan housemate while there. He rang a bell with us for a while.
That evening, Creighton and Rebbie hosted a rooftop party. They have a tiny apartment, but they have roof access. There’s a lovely deck up there.
this morning, I went to the gigantic United for Peace and Justice March and no-rally.( pictures will be forthcoming) They couldn’t get a permit for the rally in Central Park, so immeditaly as the march ended, we had to board a subway and leave or risk arrest. Despite the hostility of the police department, the organizers estimated 400,000 participants. It was very very large, certainly the largest demonstartion I’ve attended. Someone there remarked that it would have been larger, except that the RNC was scheduled for the same time as Burning Man. We have our priorities on the West Coast.
However, aside from marchers, midtown was again eerily empty. Rebbie speculated that many locals have just left town. It’s hot and sticky as hell anyway in Manhattan in August.
Obviously, I feel like all this protesting is useful. I don’t think it will change the mind of Bush on anything. He already has ignored the world’s largest organized mass protests (the around the world demonstrations against the Iraq War that happened before the war started). And I don’t think it’s going to change the minds of swing voters, although I don’t discount the possibility. I think that Kerry will be the next president. And I think that these protests will influence his actions. Unlike our insane current misleader, it seems likely that Kerry, like any sane president, would be swayed by the overwhelming will of the people. Nixon bowed to pressure from protests and Kerry likely would too. The signs I saw were not pro-Kerry. They were anti-Bush. We’re going to vote for Kerry, but if he wants us on his side after the election, he had better remember us. We’re organized, we’ve got PACs and we’re ready to hit the streets. We will continue to demand peace at home and abroad. No justice, no peace. If he’s screwing the country and waging wars, we won’t hestiate to call him out. We demand peace and prosperity and equality and justice and human rights and those things that ought to be the core principles of the Democratic Party.
More protests later this week. Stay tuned as I fight the forces of reactionarism and McKinley-ism.

sophie likes it when i post after drinking a bit, so hi sophie, i had a teeny bit more wine than i would have meant to. it’s what comes of drinking out of jelly jars.

Ok, so I haven’t been doing that much that’s touristy, mostly hanging out with friends and friends of friends. I did go see Grant’s Tomb, however, so I’m being a tiny bit touristy. I’ve been spending a lot of time in coffee shops, cafes, and food establishments, especially ones that serve coffee. I’ve heard local types talking into their cell phones about hosting activists. And I’ve seen signs in restaurant windows that say “peaceful protesters welcome.” The city of NY is not happy that the republicans are coming and seem to be welcoming activists, such as myself, which I’m happy for.

There are police all over the place however. Jess reports that they’ve been doing drills all over the place. She says she’s seen cops running around in riot gear and that there have been way more sirens and cop cars racing around than normal.
I went by Madison Square Gardens today (pictures will be forthcoming) and the place is already a zoo. There are no parking signs everywhere for miles around. The arena itself is surrounded by police barriers. Despite massive crowds of pedestrians, the sidewalk was made fo narrow that we had to walk single-file. There is a covered, opaque pedestrian bridge from the parking garage to the arena. Jess says that it was specially installed so Republicans didn’t have to see any part of the city. It does have a temporary look to it. Lanes of traffic have been taken up by modular units (aka trailers) parked in the street. I don’t what they’re for, but there are a lot of them. Beyond that, news vans everywhere. And more police officers than you can shake a stick at. I asked one of them where the “free speech” zone was going to be and he said, “gee i dunno. You’d better ask your congressman.” gee, thanks. I don’t know what’s going on with demonstrations, except that United for Peace and Justice is being allowed to march past the convention site, but not being allowed to gather in Central Park. There’s a big grassy area called The Great Lawn. It’s lovely. Apparently, the city just poured hundreds of thousands of dollars into makign it the lovely lawn it is today. They do sometimes refuse permits to events where the lawn may be trampled. However, they usually allow stuff when the groups plannign stuff have an alternate rain location. UfPJ thinks the refusal is politically motivated. They’re probably right.
I’m staying in Harlem right now, the neighborhood is called Spanish Harlem, probably because of the amount of Spanish one hears being spoken. The nieghborhood is maybe a tiny bit sketchy, but basically ok. It’s only at 136th, which is just a short block away from the 137 metro stop. My hostess is a friend of Jess. I’m very grateful.
Last night, Jess and I walked around the West Village. Today, we walked around Chelsea and then went to dinner at the Brooklyn abode of school housemate, Aaron. He has a very nifty new house. It was nice to see him after a summer away.
Things are going basically ok. I’ve been stressed out after several conversations with my lawyer. I spent a bit of time freaking out and I’ve been storing stress in my jaw, a new location for me. It’s driving me nuts, but I keep finding myself holding my jaw muscles tight. I think this is going away though. It feels better than it did. I’ve been exchanging emails with Cola and how grown ups shouldn’t freak out about stuff, and she correctly pointed out that I’m involved in an unpleasent legal action, I’ve moved far away from home, I’m in a strange city right now (which is a city as stressful as San Francisco), etc. And what it meant to be an adult was not to avoid being freaked by stuff, but to sit down and take care of what needs to be taken care of. (Like Ratty posted: it’s not my fault, but it’s my responcibility. v. wise.) I don’t know how well I’m doing on taking care of stuff (kind of ok, I guess), but I was thinking about the adults I know and admire and whose blogs I read and they all kind of do freak out under stress. So I don’t need to be a hero of stoicism. I don’t know how desirable that even is in an artist, such as myself. Although, maybe it would be nice if I could be totally rational all the time and put all my angst and whatnot into musical endeavors. Totally passionate music. Totally passionless self. Maybe this wouldn’t be good. The problem with people who try to be rational all the time is that they think that they are. Even when they’re not. It would be better to let myself freak from time to time and know that I’m doing it.
I want to be the kind of person that my cousin was. I admire/d her tremendously. Losing her hangs over me. I have an idea in my head that she was not the type of person to freak. But thinking now, I remember how she was when her brother was dying. She was so worried that whenever he got worse, she would have a small stroke. It was terrible. We weren’t sure that she would outlive him. But when he passed on, I won’t say she was acting rationally right away, but she accepted it. She beleived he went to heaven (he was a priest, she was a nun) and was releived that his suffering was over. I remember that she used to watch videos of speakers talking about mindfulness. I remember watching one with her where the speaker said to go ahead and feel your emotions, but to be mindful: to be aware of what you felt and how you were acting. A mindful person would still get angry, would still freak out, but be aware that she was freaking out. She would give herself room to experience stress, but she wouldn’t fall into the trap of thinking she was behaving rationally when she was not. Maybe all that mindfulness is good for jaw unclenching.
So I just need to be aware of what I’m feeling. Not easy for somebody as spacy as myself. And while I have a bunch of things to feel stressed about, I have many thing to be happy about. tomorrow, I’m meeting with a Columbia adjunct professor to ask questions about the program. George Lewis is going to be teaching there, which is a good draw. And I’m in NYC, a city that I’m find of, and, if I go to Columbia, a city I would spend a few years in. Nicole is coming out Friday, which is exciting. We’re going to participate in Critical Mass and go to a Bell ringing Event which involves Pauline Oliveros. Maybe we’ll go to an opening at the Kitchen. And, of course, the big march. It’s very exciting. And I’m starting to really look forward to the semester and doing more work at school and hearing what people have done over the summer. I live in exciting times.

up for grabs!

New York is perfectly lovely. There is a bit of a shortage of free wifi, but luckily, there’s one cafe down the street from Jess’ apartment which has it. The coffee here is pretty good by nyc standards, which are just different than the west coast and that’s ok. I order a cup of coffee, not a latte. You’d be a fool to order a latte or to drink coffee without creamer in it. Jess is the perfect hostess and I’ve been spending time with her charming friends. Yesterday, the sister of my next host showed me how to light a fire with just a stick and some kindling. We did this in Central Park. She bowed a round astick ona piece of wodd and put the results in some kindling and it burst into flame. I was most impressed. I’m going to learn this skill, but maybe not in Central Park. If the end of the gran epoch or something is like y2k was supposed to be, I’m habign out with her. (The gran epoch: UNIX systems will run out of digits for date information in 2030. They count the number of miliseconds since 12:00 AM Janurary 1, 1970 GMT)

Unrelatedly, women who pee on the toilet seat are annoying, but women who do that in the handicapped stall are evil

i love cities. cities rool. i’m happy to be here. it’s thunderstorming right now. that is all.

SFGate: Authorities to turn up the volume for GOP convention _ a 150-decibel ‘megaphone’

150 decibels is way past the threshold for phsyical pain and will permanently damage your hearing. The device the nyc cops have purchased is a focussable sound beam. It can hurt you without hurting them. They can aim it. It will not diminish in volume at the same rate as normal sound. In short, they can permanently deafen you and then go for donuts.
At guitar center, one can purchase extremely cheesy earplugs actually called sound filters. I wish I could tell you the brand name. The rating on the back for how much sound they block is extrmely poor. The packaging claims that they respond to sound levels. Tests are done at very low levels so they block out only low levels of sounds. the packaging claims that in a firing range, those little sound filters work almost as well as the big earmuffs that shooters wear. A gunshot is only 140 decibles. At that lower volume, “any length of exposure is dangerous; noise at 140dB may cause actual pain in the ear.” This thing is ten decibels louder. The cops in nyc want the ability to make all protesters go permanently deaf.
Theoretically, things like pepper spray, tear gas, rubber bullets, whatever are supposed to do no permanent harm. this is not the case with these devices. They will maim people for the rest of their lives. the police claim they’re not going to turn them up that loud. Why do they even have them? Why would they have a weapon and not use it? It’s illogical that they would purchase somethign with those capabilities with no intent to actually put them to use. If that was the case, why not diable the higher volumes?
In short, protect yourself from the pigs by getting ear protection. They have two of these things and plan ” to mount them on Humvees posted outside Madison Square Garden.” You won’t hear it until it’s too late. I say, if you’re near there, you ought to be protecting your ears. 33 db reduction isn’t much, but it’s better than nothing. Or order 40+ db protection from germany 110 db is “safe” for a short period of time, less than half an hour, but that’s better than nothing.

my credit is not good enough to refinance.