Last night, I wrote this paean to Code Pink, in anticipation of an anti-war demonstration that was supposed to take place today at noon in Hinds Plaza in Princeton, New Jersey. I regard Medea Benjamin, the founder of Code Pink, as one of the great heroes of the twenty-first century.
Code Pink’s opposition to our government’s wars has been more consistent than any of the rationalizations the government has offered in defense of them. If you’re in Princeton on the 25th, and oppose war, consider standing with us (in the rain) at Hinds Plaza. Voting isn’t enough if your vote is just a vote for war. Our representatives need to know loudly and unmistakably that it isn’t. (But yeah, bring an umbrella.)
It was, to be sure, a chilly day with a pouring rain. So I drove down to Princeton, parked my car, walked over to Hinds Plaza, and encountered this scene…
I expected a low turn out, but I didn’t expect to be the only goddamn person there. I sat around for twenty minutes waiting for my anti-war comrades to make a fashionably late appearance, but not a single one showed up–like something out of a Genesis song. Or Charlie Brown.
What the hell kind of anti-war movement is this, anyway? I don’t remember the last time anyone canceled a war over inclement weather, so who cancels an anti-war protest over a bit of January rain? Meanwhile, over in Iraq, they’re quibbling about whether 250,000 or 300,000 showed up for the latest protest. Granted, it doesn’t rain much in Iraq.
Turns out Medea Benjamin & Co. marched in DC, God bless em.
Not that any of this dims my anti-war ardor in the least. On the contrary.