Poor People’s Economic Human Rights Campaign
Thursday, May 31st - Thursday, June 13th 2018
Kensington, PA - Washington, D.C.

Diary, Part 3

June 7th
BOLLOCKS TO POVERTY

I wake up on the floor of another church gym coughing up some blood. Woke up in the night to some of the various horrific noises of the human body. More sore. More unable to open my eyes. Bollocks to poverty.

Although we aren’t walking the full 140 miles between our two goalposts, this daily trek is a physically demanding task for anybody. It’s a tragic irony that people who do physically demanding work are often de-incentivised from doing exercise on their own terms. “I spend all week pushing pallet jacks around, why would I need or want to work out?” That’s if they have the time outside of work to even consider the option. While employment can provide some helpful physical activity, it’s more often than not doing more damage to the individual than good, as their body is just a tool in someone else's financial portfolio. When you choose to do something for your own flesh and blood -- for the one thing in the world that you should, beyond all else, be able to call your own -- you can tailor the routine to what you need, not what your employer or landlord needs. It also doesn’t have to be the money pit that it is generally depicted to be. I like to run, partially because I can do it looking like a total slob. And I do. I can smell the roses and slump down on the couch after with a mild sense of satisfaction. I’m no health expert, but if working out helps me to get through my working day a little easier, I consider it a partial, individual and immediately deployable tactic worth pursuing.

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PARTY AND PROTEST

As alluded to in an earlier entry, among the many fashionable hats that our longboarder friend Curtis wears is that of official Naked Lunch absurdist narrator. These moments always have the potential to be both gut-crushingly hilarious and silence-shatteringly irritating. Frankly, the potential for him to decide he’s going to have an actual naked lunch never seems to be that far off. At least he is extremely attractive.

Emotions are something that are naked here often, both the euphoric and crushing. Hugs, tears of joy, apologies, mutual feelings of appreciation from those not often listened to. Painful family drama, intoxication, arguments and short tempers and raised voices out the arse. While putting forth efforts to avoid feeding negative stereotypes of the working class, we don't pretend to be beyond human. We demand human rights because we're human. These flaws prove it. These attributes belong to people of all social standings. All that is different is the details, such as tax bracket of drug choice and the square footage and privacy of the theatre.

On this voyage I’ve seen humans that are homeless, disabled, with addictions, and otherwise scuppered by society, being security stewards to keep us all safe from traffic, leading the march line, driving support vehicles, arranging and granting entertainment, picking up street rubbish, raising donations, forgoing sleep to guard equipment, risking eviction, providing childcare for one another, and every other thing that is necessary for a large group of people to survive on the go. That’s how you build community, where everything we desire begins.

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June 8th

I’ve been resisting subscribing to it to minimise goal-derailing drama, but there is a definite split in the group. I wanted to chalk it up to some activist ego and emotional parenting, however it is now undeniable that things have taken a bad turn. There seems to be an effort to ignore the fact that we left a vulnerable individual behind, to the point where no push is being made to share information about what happened despite requests. It is the opposite of the urgency that the situation should arouse. Almost needless to say, this sort of behaviour is exhibited by the economic system we’re struggling against. Bittersweetly, at least we are talking about someone that’s used to fending for themselves. We hope for Ezra’s safe return to St. Pete, or wherever he chooses to go.

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MARYLAND COOKIE CRUMBS

It’s certainly been no mistake by the route planners that we’ve seen a wide variety of neighbourhoods on this march. We’re not the ones that need convincing about the damage of an ever-widening gap between the rich and the poor (currently at its highest level since the 1920s, by some measurements). But it is a thing made more sobering when you see it as bricks and mortar and not facts and figures. The few miles heading into Baltimore sum things up perfectly. Million dollar houses with no visible signs of life other than the labourers doing the upkeep on them suddenly give way to a city where one of our participants’ wheelchairs gets stuck in wet tarmac because it wasn’t marked.

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June 9th
STONEWALL WAS A RIOT, NOT A BRAND

History will have to judge whether having our opening fest day on the same day as the D.C. Pride carnival was a misstep or genius. It’s definitely fun though! Thousands of people, issues intersecting, it’s nice to feel a semblance of solidarity after such a long week. The participants are supportive and enjoying our sound system but largely occupied (hah) here in the park. Even for Florida transplants, it is incredibly hot. The empty fountain in the middle of Dupont Circle laughs at us. Climate change is simultaneously a Chinese hoax and an anti-gay punishment from God. Don’t forget.

Conveniently sounding like The Queers with hints of the early hardcore of Bad Religion, the first of many consistently good bands today is Virginia’s No Dead Monsters. It’s hard to say how much of the crowd this applies to but those at the stage seem happy with the less typical Pride fare on offer. It’s not all about new wave and Europop. So it continues with locals XK Scenario, who describe themselves as a prog-hop act, coming with all the funky bass and foreboding heaviness of Rage Against The Machine and some H.R. from Bad Brains vocals. They get such a cool description because I’m also choosing to believe that they’re named after the website XKCD.com.

Speaking of Bad Brains, D.C’s own I Against Eye (they’re bringing the mantle back home since that Dutch band that was on Epitaph for a number of years broke up). A storm eye threatens to appear as singer Rael The Legend yells “Kick out the jams motherfuckers!” The Chinese must realise that they can’t compete with the power of an LGBT crowd moshing through bubble machines to the sound of grind metal, and the storm never materialises. “D.C. hardcore forever!!” The band hands the mic over to the participants, and a homeless man that we recruited to help us hand out flyers the previous evening is now letting you know what the fuck is up amidst the furious bedlam. I defy your band to have a more punk set than this.

The grassroots shakeup of Rainbow Capitalism rolls on like so many corporate floats, with more local hardcore in the shape of Ruin By Design (there’s a reason this place is Mecca for fans of this music). In between Circle Jerks stylings (fnarr) the band are bigging up PPEHRC, and the local Food Not Bombs group that has just arrived with free food for whoever wants it. I like to imagine that they were playing their track Decoys on Parade just as a giant float from our Black Mirror overlords at Facebook goes by. Amusingly, Ruin By Design are followed by speakers from the Socialist Workers Party, and a change of pace in the form of Curtis on the beatboxes of steel.

Why is VisitBritain -- the UK government tourism body -- handing out shit here? Is this part of Theresa May’s increasingly desperate Brexit strategy to keep the economy from being fucked?

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Part 1 of this series is here.
Part 2 is here.