The Three Little Pigs Visit Sarasota
DeathSantis, Sub-Homan, and The Wolf sneak in and out
So they came and they went. I never saw them arrive or leave. Rumor had it that the three fascists who came to dance on the grave of New College of Florida traveled by helicopter so as not to be bothered by the sight of 150 justifiably angry people.
The speaking venue is called Sainer Pavilion, though InSainer would be a more a propos title for it since it became part of Governor DeathSantis’s own little Project 2025 to reshape Florida in his image.
I once visited the campus in 2014, meeting with a trans person inside a “safe room” whose walls were papered with welcoming slogans and symbols of diversity. God knows what those walls look like now.
They really should paint them jet black to symbolize the vacuum inside the minds and hearts of the people who think they own us.
But I digress.
I can’t tell you what went inside that building. The proceedings were said to be live streamed and there’s likely a video of it on YouTube.
Outside, we lined both sides of the street. We being a very spirited crowd that included retirees, middle-aged folk, and college age protesters. There were a couple of bullhorns and a PA system used by various people to speak about the criminal trails that follow that porcine trio wherever they go.
DeathSantis is a legend in his own mind. Tommy Sub-Homan authored the policy of separating children from their parents. He has recently vowed to disobey the orders of judges. Big Chad Wolf, illegally appointed as head of DHS during Trump 1.0, oversaw this horror in the summer of 2020, according to the ACLU:
For weeks, federal agents with the Department of Homeland Security laid siege to the city of Portland to suppress the voices of those demanding justice for Black lives. The militarized agents used sharpshooters to maim people, swept protesters away in unmarked cars, and brutally attacked journalists, legal observers, and medics with sonic weapons and tear gas. They didn’t spare moms, dads, veterans, nurses, or even the city’s mayor. (Source: ACLU)
Yes, every one of them had earned the scorn heaped upon them outside Sainer Pavilion.
Cars occasionally passed through the stretch of Bay Shore Road that we occupied, quite a few honking in support. Even a utility truck from the City of Sarasota honked approval. Everyone ignored the fenced-in “protest zone” further away that some idiot had thought we would stand in.
Sarasota Police and Florida State Troopers were calm and could not have cared less where we stood, so long as it was not in the street where we might get hit by a car.
This pickup passed by twice, decked out in support:
It was hot out. Many wore hats. The organizers had brought bottled water and ice. Oops, I think I just typed a three-letter word that’s profanity at an anti-deportation protest…
People who spoke represented a socialist organization, an immigrant support group, and a variety of activists. We chanted and socialized for the entire 90 minutes or so that the main event unfolded inside.
Some of the law enforcers seemed a bit dressed to overkill. What is that orange thing, a silencer?
There was a lot of media there. FAUX News, of course. And local radio, newspapers, and TV. I was interviewed by a newspaper reporter from Japan who had flown up this morning from D.C. just for this event. He had awakened at 3:30 AM EDT.
The signs captured not only the theme of the protest, but the general I’ve-fucking-had-it-ness that those of us living on Earth 1 feel these days and just about every fucking day of the week.
Here are some of my favorites.
Hopeless. Mensch means “a person of integrity and honor” Even wishing upon a star won’t make this one come true.
I gave everyone a scare near the end when I started to shout at very close range—but behind a fence—at this Bezos-clone dude who left the auditorium with a smirk on his puss and the name of a rapist felon on his T-shirt.
I called him a fascist. I told him my father had fought fascists like him in World War II. I told him to go F himself. A bunch of police closed in on his side of the fence.
A couple of the protest organizers dashed in front of me to avoid trouble. Not that I would have done anything. I’m 5’5” and not a fighter. But after 10 fucking years, I needed to unload just 0.0001 percent of my anger.
Why not join a protest where you live and unload some of your anger?
Bravo, Jeff.
They’re beyond repair. Thanks for showing up. Loved the photos!