Today is officially the first day of spring, which in Madison is synonymous with the beginning of demonstration season. Here, perhaps more than any other city, everyday life involves hearing the phrase ""let's get high and go to the rally."" Whether it's war in Iraq, questionable working conditions in third-world countries or unethical treatment of earthworms, if it's an issue, Madisonians will march on it.
In fact, I suspect if the founding fathers hadn't given us free assembly, the people in this city would never leave the coffee shop. We'd just wander the streets jacked up on skim mocha lattes shouting political slogans indiscriminately at confused pedestrians. Local poster board and marker sales would plummet, blood would no longer be acceptable legal tender for oil and most tragically, an entire drum line would be left idle, exacerbating the proliferation of crappy local emo bands.
Thankfully for us, our powder-wigged forefathers decided these risks weren't worth taking, allowing activism to become a full-time job in our fair city.
However, with this sheer volume of competing voices begging for our attention, the main problem facing many groups is their failure to produce creative ways to voice their dissent. Their inconsistent and vague overall messages leave me with more questions than answers. If each stake on Bascom Hill represents a primate caged for scientific research, then what does the squirrel fervently gathering nuts represent?
Given our politically vibrant community, one would think we could come up with some more persuasive tactics. Call me pessimistic, but 200 hippies walking down State Street for the 10th time isn't likely to change United States foreign policy.
It wasn't always like this, though. For example, during the tumultuous Vietnam era, Sterling Hall was bombed for housing a military think-tank. As a direct result of this action, the president ended the war only four years later. Clearly, Washington could pick a fight with the Viet-Cong, but they weren't going to mess with Madison.
Coincidentally, Monday marked the four-year anniversary of the Iraq war and it's quite clear the current administration has no plans of changing course, no matter how much we march or blow things up. Frankly, it's enough to discourage even the most ardent activist.
Yet they continue to stand outside, shouting their beliefs to no one in particular, and I can't help but find a certain amount of respect for them. Unlike the banjo-playing Jehovah's Witnesses for Socialism, the anti-war movement has a compelling case for withdrawal.
Disregarding the absurdity of a perpetual war doctrine, this conflict is less winnable than a staring contest with a mannequin. We've spent more money there than the GDP of several South American countries and created a situation in which Iraqis are afraid to leave their homes.
After four years and 3,200 American lives, I think it's time Mr. Bush stopped and lent them an ear. Now that's a cause I can get behind.
If he doesn't, I'll be forced to start an emo band.
