The plan was – smoke hella doobies and be peaceful all day. But then after the Price Is Right was over there were gongs and chants and shit coming from the street. People were marching down the bike lane outside my house.
I had to ask myself, “Can I be peaceful if I’m protesting something?” then I remembered the Indian chief Ghandi told his Souix warriors that it was okay to fight violence with nonviolence. So I went outside.
It was like walking into George Bush’s best acid trip. One guy had a sign that said “No fags on the moon”. Another said “Jews are responsible for coupon scandals”. I’ve never seen so much hate. “Remove tools from white men, they remodel too often”? That stuff hurts.
After the marchers passed by I trailed along to see where this was going. It was just a few blocks before the crowd filed into the neighborhood polling station. Inside they set their picket signs down and rapped to an election official, who checked their names against a list of qualified voters. We all remember from Mrs. Hutchinson’s in 6th grade – that list used to be white men only…
Each protester lined up like the lunchroom and got a ballot, a marker, and the chance to vote. I’m no dummy, I went to high school for over six years by the time I made up all the units and stuff. And I still can read. So I knew what it all meant. If we have a democracy built by common people voting, it’s mad important that that population be educated to the highest degree possible, or we’re gonna elect ourselves to our own doom, homey. Our own doom. Know what I’m sayin’?
Who wants dummies voting? That’s what I’m saying. Men afraid of losing their power, that’s who. That’s what I’m saying.
So I got in line and voted, knowing the deck was stacked against me, but like praying to God, symbolism is powerful.
Then I went home, cuz it was getting time for Judge Judy and I like to watch justice being served, yo! That was my most peaceful election day yet.