Showing posts with label autonomous zone. Show all posts
Showing posts with label autonomous zone. Show all posts

Monday 15 June 2020

If You're Not Confused You're Not Paying Attention

In the middle of town the Cacophonous Zone is set up, a discordant place, there being so many behind the creation of it. Leadership they didn't like, for it sounded elitist, colonial and privileged. Yet the founders knew the wrong followers when they saw them, and evicted them.  

A
nti-capitalists jostled for space with libertarians, while indigenous interests denounced both as Euro-centric. 
Communists notwithstanding, a gaggle of entrepreneurs appeared, creating a pop-up market in one section when the Cacophonous Zone took over a square hectare of the city. Business opportunities abounded here. Marchers need equipment and protestors need stimulation.

Stimulants were offered under a big old urban survivor-tree in a corner. Someone set up "aSIGNations" in the marketplace, which offered instant signs for those who forgot to bring a placard or who (if they were politicians perhaps) suddenly changed their allegiance, and needed a new placard. These knew when to abandon a sinking allyship (as CTV News called allegiance, when they stopped having any for Jessica Mulroney who sunk from TV because she said … what was it again? Does anyone remember an outrage of an hour ago?)

Not remembering an hour ago, few here remembered anything at all about distant history, if they'd ever learned it. They only knew it was Bad. They joined with gusto in the new sport of statuecide, which was (as far as most could tell) a response to genocide, which was all that ever happened in history. "Take that, War Hero!" shouted the crowd, as one granite figure after another was pulled from its plinth.

One entrepreneur did good business selling Statue Lassoos, so that anyone could join in the pulling. Someone else started an instant translation service which would translate your placard slogans into rap. It could also purge your messages of any lingering grammar (grammar being elitist). The instant printer produced Certificates of Gender Identity, in case anyone in the LGBTrans corner suddenly needed to transfer theirs that very day.

There was a herbal products table which sold drops that turned tear gas into tears-of-laughter gas. This could be aimed at the riot police, making them die laughing.

There was a used clothing outlet that sold … used clothing. The product came from the homelessness tent city where it had arrived after being liberated from a different used clothing retailer. Originating thus in the trendiest district of town the used clothing fetched top dollar, and was displayed on a table labelled Riotware. (That entrepreneur was getting a free government start-up COVID grant to trademark the name.)

Someone spray-painted "Cacophonous Zone" on a wall at its entrance, but someone else covered that with Robotonous Zone, which was at length recognized as a criticism, and erased. Those deemed the perpetrators of Wrong Labelling -- a bunch of Golf Hooligans whose skin was as white as white marble -- were captured and knocked down (we thought they were statues, their assailants told police).

Some English as a Second Language teachers turned up with a peace sign plus a message saying "Clear Language Matters". The crowd ripped up their banner accusing them of disrespecting ethnic groups and calling them cultural appropriators, not to mention demo-jackers. The teachers texted their union from the Zone for help, but the union merely responded (via media) by saying that "Canada has systemic racism". 

One man's placard read "Non-Cause in Search of a March". He wandered about aimlessly, anonymous behind a pandemic mask that looked so scary the other marchers left him alone -- except for one old lady who called out "Hi George" while walking through the square because she always walked her dog through the square. 

"Stay safe", he called back.





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This story is reproduced from LITERARY YARD, www.literaryyard.com, 2024/02/10 It's a common fairy-tale theme -- imprisonment in a tower ...