Fieldwork

I know you’re worried because lately I haven’t been serving up the delightful salad of vitriol and venom (with a side of vinaigrette, please!) to which you’ve become accustomed. In fact, I know that some of you are downright confused and even flummoxed because I haven’t dished out anything harsh in days. So I’m here to tell you that you needn’t wonder if, perhaps, I’ve decided to turn my life around and start embracing (literally) everyone around me rather than keeping them at arm’s length. Don’t fret, pets.
Why, if you were with me at Veg-In Diner this morning, you would have been in for a treat. I delighted my companion with a tasty tirade about the youngish scrawny dark-haired Jewy-nebbishy guy dressed in a nothing but a diaper, T-shirt, and sneakers (socks? I’m not sure), with feathery white wings affixed to his back, downing bottle after bottle of beer because soon he would be leaving the sanctuary of the restaurant and needed to be good and rip-fucking-roarin’ drunk to pose on Broadway during the anti-war protest.
Soon he would be on Broadway wearing, in addition to the rest of his stunning ensemble, a wig and eye-mask (both of which he put on at his table before disappearing into the widdle boys’ woom for 15 minutes — why he had to go there when he was wearing a perfectly fine absorbent diaper, I don’t know) and holding a big pink heart-shaped sign on a stick with smiley-face stickers and MAKE LOVE NOT WAR (so original!) written on it. You would have heard me say, both at the restaurant and upon seeing him at 25th and Broadway, that he was just another lame lose(u)r poseur who just wanted to be able to say at work, on Monday morning, to whomever would listen, “Yeah, I was in that anti-war thing on Broadway, and, like, everyone was looking at me!”
If you were with me today, you would have heard me rail against people who have to look outlandish and have their get-ups speak for them because they themselves have nothing to say. Maybe if his get-up didn’t just say, “Look at me, I’m so whimsical and colorful and wearing a big diaper (and carrying this sign as a concession to the protest)” and if he didn’t spend so much time looking around to see who was looking at him, I wouldn’t have had anything to protest.
So, yeah. I’ve been my usual self. I’ve just been out and about more these days, railing against jackassery in real-time context and on location. Out in the field, researching. Gathering data. And discussing it in a live forum with people who enjoy the fresh freefall of venom and bile straight from the source. Sort of like spring water, but much more refreshing.