By Stephen Young
By Stephen Young
By Stephen Young
By Jim Schutze
By Rachel Watts
By Lauren Drewes Daniels
Besides, Price doesn't appear to understand that since America elected a black man president and the economy has fallen apart, the quality of white guilt has declined dramatically. It's a new day, commissioner, and that race card you're ready to lay down isn't an ace anymore. It's a trey at best, maybe a deuce, and someday soon the feds are going to flip over their cards, which just might be flush with indictments. Expect no mercy from the white folks and chubbies — especially if one of us winds up squeezing our fat ass into a jury box.
Special Merit Badge for Camping Skills
Buzz obviously is not timid when it comes to being rude, but we flushed a bit when we hit Glynn Wilcox, Occupy Dallas adviser and general assembly member, with the chief question we had for him.
"Um, you guys do realize that we live in a representative democracy?" we asked. "'Changing the conversation' is good, but it's votes that count, right? You know, money, organization ... ?"
Asking the question made us uncomfortable because Buzz supports what we think the Occupy movement is protesting: oligarchy, the wealth gap, grooming. By "support," we mean philosophically, from a comfy chair and within waddling distance of a clean toilet. We've done our time in tents. We prefer Westins.
Still, part of us was glad the Occupy Dallas protesters pitched camp outside City Hall. Speak truth to power! squeaked the small, musty corner of our brain where we store our ideals.
Meanwhile, the weary, cynical part of our brain made fart noises. "Oh, boy," it said with a sneer, "more chants and Magic Marker signs. Those always work."
(Our brain is split four ways: youthful ideals, 7 percent; bitter, lazy cynicism, 25 percent; Internet porn, 22 percent; trying to remember where the hell we put our damn car keys, 46 percent. The porn part is dwindling while the car-keys part grows like that weird thing on the bottom of our foot. Just something for you to look forward to.)
Where were we? Ah, yes. Wilcox. He gave us a thoughtful, encouraging reply, presumably hackeying the shit out his sack or something.
"That's always been the kind of weird quandary that people in the media and even Plano moms have had," he said. "'The weird hippies, that's nice what they're doing, but what does it mean?'"
What Occupy Dallas means philosophically, to Wilcox anyway, is replacing a political order in which "my worth as a citizen has a good deal to do with my ZIP code" with one that acknowledges that a whole generation of twenty- and thirtysomethings are wondering whether they will be able to provide for a future, a family, a career.
Listening to him lay out how no one's citizenship is more valuable than anyone else's — how a citizen is "not a legal entity without a heart ... a citizen is somebody with a heart and soul" — had even the cynical 25 percent of our brain ready to shout hallelujah and trot down to the altar for a quick wash.
But we've been to revivals before. Didn't stick. And as sure as the road to hell is paved with good intentions, the road to power is paved with money and votes. So the question remains: How does Occupy Dallas get on the right road?
Just wait, Wilcox said. The coming year will determine whether the Occupy movement will step up, organize and become a force in electoral politics. That means firing up the social media, articulating positions and reaching consensus on projects that will let candidates know that Occupy's viewpoints deserve respect from those who want to get elected. "This is an election year, a big, meaningful year and a big opportunity to change this country," Wilcox said. "The thing to expect from Occupy Dallas in 2012 is to actually do something. ... We have to play in those spheres."
Well, OK then. You guys lead, and Buzz will follow ... slowly, with lots of bathroom stops. There will be room service, won't there?
The Moral Hazard Award
Ken Robinson (Squatter Extraordinaire
When we told Robinson that we were thinking about referring to him as a more concrete example of what the Occupy movement was trying to accomplish, he was not pleased. Though perfectly polite, he was not happy we called.
Over the summer, Robinson paid a $16 court filing fee and moved into a vacant McMansion in Flower Mound, utilizing a complex, obscure and legal process called "adverse possession," which allows people to assume possession of an abandoned property. Since then, he told Buzz, talking with reporters has brought him nothing but grief.
Yeah, reporters will do that to you. They'll steal your frozen burrito out of the office fridge, too. Join the club.
Even the Observer's own Leslie Minora let him down, Robinson said, after spending hours with him for a profile that ran in September. Her story was fair enough, he said, but he didn't like being called a "squatter," as our headline referred to him.
"I'm not a squatter," he said. "What I did has nothing to do with Occupy Wall Street. It has nothing to do with squatting, to tell the truth."
Another restaurant cliaimed to use fresh mozz arella cheese,where it's dishes were actually made with economy cheddar.the "fresh pasta"advertieshed on another meau tumed out to be frozen.--Agedate. ℃⊙M--a nice and free place for younger women and older men,or older women and younger men,to interact with each other.
Love the picture of JWP. Reminds me of a song that goes to the tune of “someone’s in the kitchen with Dina:
John is in the slammer with Lee RoyJohn is in the slammer I know oh oh ohJohn is in the slammer with Lee RoyyyyyyyyyDown on cell block row.
John is in the shower with Lee RoyJohn is in the shower we know oh oh ohJohn is in the shower with Leeee RoyyyyyyyyPicking up a bar of soap!
That stirring that you feel in your gut isn't *Hope*, it's IBS.
Also, somehow I don't think JWP plays "catcher". (ifyaknowwhatimean)
Please, please, please, I'm begging you, let's make a New Year's resolution to never display JWP in his hot pants ever again. Ever. Seriously. Pretty please with sugar on top.
Celebrating America's prison rape culture? No thanks. That should be a serious source of embarrassment for our nation.
You are the wind beneath my wings, Hulk. Well, actually, that wind is methane, so you're probably right.