March 2008 Denver Anti-War Rally; Poet Calls To "Burn Down Lockheed Martin," Crowd Cheers

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Poet "SUZI motherf#@*in' Q" calls for Lockheed Martin to be burned down--"I'm not saying I'd like to kill the president"--crowd cheers (around 3:40 in):



Final estimate--300 anti-war moonbats, plenty of anger and rage, and a very "musical" rally overall.

The Drunkablog has an extensive collection of photos from the rally--and an interesting encounter with Ward Churchill acolyte Glenn Spagnuolo, one of the heads of Recreate '68.

Correspondent "randomridge" was also there, and has a warning: ¡Peligro: Moonbattismo! The captions are priceless.


The calm before the storm--a foot of snow expected by Monday evening


While the rally gets set up, I took the time to remember those who have served


What would a rally be without bongos drums?


AFSC had a few of these banners around


The only torture in Denver was the overwhelming sense of smugness


Peace flags a-flyin', while a mournful cello played


Raging Grannies serenaded the early arrivers


A little tai chi to warm up for today's activism


Alternate party supporters were out in force--all three of them!


The rally started a little late, waiting for everyone to show up


An inflatable George W. Bush doll says "Impeach Me"


Keffiyehs and Palestinian flags were in abundance


Ah, good ol' Che!


Israoil--how clever

Modern War Memorials

They don't make 'em like they used to:

Much as the academics love this kind of talk and this kind of architecture, something in the public spirit reviles before it. We all die, so to offer voids to the memory of our heroes, and to list deaths without comment about what they did in life is an assertion of meaninglessness, of pointlessness. It is to say, "You sacrificed for others -- but that's not worthy of mention, because now you're just as dead as anyone else."

Why We Fight

"My Cousin Frankie"--currently making the rounds (h/t Hot Air):

Today, 40 years after my cousin was killed in that far-off land, I sit back and reflect on his life. The Buckinghams, Tommy James and the Shondells and the Rolling Stones on my iPod take me back to that hot summer day, and I can hear the faint sounds of helicopter rotors as they seem to get closer and louder. There's the sporadic explosion of mortar fire in the distance and the sound of boots hitting the dirt. I hear the rack of a machine gun bolt and the crack and pop of small-arms fire.

No, I'm not imagining these things. I'm actually listening to them as I, myself, grab for my M-4 rifle and flak vest. You see, I'm currently serving as a civilian advisor in western Iraq with a team of Marines from the 3rd Marine Division from Kaneohe Bay, Hawaii. And just like I did while serving in Bosnia in the 1990s, I carry my cousin's photograph with me, as a reminder of who I am, and why I'm here.

Cross posted from The Daily Blogster, where I am filling in for Mr. Bob while he is deployed.