While driving down to Nashville with my sister today, we passed a billboard with the ten commandments on it. She was confused by the word "thou", thinking it had something to do with love (old sonnets I guess). I told her that it had nothing to do with love, that those were the ten commandments.
Then she looked at me and asked what those were. "It's like Bible stuff, right?"
Ha.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
My Visit to Obamaland
It was a lot like Disneyland. Crowds of excited people shouting and singing. Long lines. Side shows. Lots of photo ops. And merchandise featuring everyone's favorite character.
Except I wasn't in Disneyland. I was in Washington DC for Barack Obama's inauguration. And what I saw was anything but magical.
It's hard to know where to start with everything that happened. I went to the inauguration to take photos. Most of the PJ program was there, and I had hoped to get some good frames of a historic event in American history. I don't mean the "historic" part in a good way. I was staying with my boyfriend at Georgetown and classes were canceled for the day. The excuse was that transportation was a mess with the extra 2 millionish people in the city. His dad later asked in an email if Georgetown had ever considered stopping class for the Bush inauguration. Ha.
The Metro was packed with people all trying to get to the Mall. However, the nearest Metro stop (the Smithsonian) was closed. So we all shuffled out of the next station over. Thousands of people were corralled like cattle into streets leading to the Mall, nobody really knowing where to go, just following the movement of the herd.
There were street vendors everywhere, selling anything and everything that could have Obama plastered across it. T-shirts, hats, sweatshirts, bookmarks, gloves, buttons, necklaces, posters, stickers, and... American flags. Obama's face was plastered over the American flag. Garrett and I were disgusted. Obama had become more of a brand name then a man. A true cult personality.
And then there were the actual spectators. They ate it all up. People staked out spots on the Mall as early as 4 a.m. They were suited up in Obama gear, occasionally singing, screaming, or chanting a gospel like "O-BAM-A! O-BAM-A!" They also shouted other inane things like "Arrest Bush!" or "Obama's the fireman! He's gonna put out the fire!" Bleh. Everyone was so happy, so exhilarated, as if Jesus had risen again and was here to save us all.
Did I mention it was below freezing that day? I had only been out for a few hours. I can only imagine how the 4 a.m. people must have felt.
The organization was terrible. As my retired army father would say, it was "piss poor planning." Coming back from the ceremony was a wreck. All the side streets were closed off, leaving only a few roads for people to leave through. We were shoulder to shoulder with other people, inching along. At one point it took fifteen minutes to walk one block. We crammed once more into the metro and rode back, glad to get out.
And let's not forget the communists. We ran into the Revolutionary Communist Party twice in our inauguration adventure. I stopped to get pictures of one of the communist guys arguing with an Obama supporter (strange that they'd be arguing much), and asked the communist guy for caption information. Bad idea. He started going on and on about how America is terrorizing people overseas, how it doesn't ease foreign suffering, how Obama is an imperialist, etc. While he talked I wanted to throw up, or punch him. He was literally foaming at the mouth as he spoke, which added to my nausea. I didn't say much. After getting his info, I told him I was a hardcore capitalist (he asked) and went on my way. It wasn't worth my time to hang around and argue with a fanatic. Not when I could be taking pictures. Garrett picked up their paper "Revolution: Voice of the Revolutionary Communist Party, USA."
Speaking of Garrett, I was incredibly glad to have had him there. I didn't expect him to go out to the inauguration with me, but he did, saying that he wasn't going to let me walk alone in DC with 2 million extra crazies in town. He helped me navigate the Metro and the bus, kept a hold on me in the crowds, watched for crazy people (which I seemed to attract that weekend), and got me out of the whole mess when it got too cold. Not to mention giving me a place to sleep and food. What a guy.
The experience was both scary and enlightening. I had never seen such fanatacism so widespread and up close before. I wonder what I'll think in ten or twenty years when I look back on that day. The beginning of the end? Will I speak of it like Germans speak of the rise of Hitler? How Atlas Shrugged became reality?
I hope not. I really hope not.
You can see my photos from the day here.
Except I wasn't in Disneyland. I was in Washington DC for Barack Obama's inauguration. And what I saw was anything but magical.
It's hard to know where to start with everything that happened. I went to the inauguration to take photos. Most of the PJ program was there, and I had hoped to get some good frames of a historic event in American history. I don't mean the "historic" part in a good way. I was staying with my boyfriend at Georgetown and classes were canceled for the day. The excuse was that transportation was a mess with the extra 2 millionish people in the city. His dad later asked in an email if Georgetown had ever considered stopping class for the Bush inauguration. Ha.
The Metro was packed with people all trying to get to the Mall. However, the nearest Metro stop (the Smithsonian) was closed. So we all shuffled out of the next station over. Thousands of people were corralled like cattle into streets leading to the Mall, nobody really knowing where to go, just following the movement of the herd.
There were street vendors everywhere, selling anything and everything that could have Obama plastered across it. T-shirts, hats, sweatshirts, bookmarks, gloves, buttons, necklaces, posters, stickers, and... American flags. Obama's face was plastered over the American flag. Garrett and I were disgusted. Obama had become more of a brand name then a man. A true cult personality.
And then there were the actual spectators. They ate it all up. People staked out spots on the Mall as early as 4 a.m. They were suited up in Obama gear, occasionally singing, screaming, or chanting a gospel like "O-BAM-A! O-BAM-A!" They also shouted other inane things like "Arrest Bush!" or "Obama's the fireman! He's gonna put out the fire!" Bleh. Everyone was so happy, so exhilarated, as if Jesus had risen again and was here to save us all.
Did I mention it was below freezing that day? I had only been out for a few hours. I can only imagine how the 4 a.m. people must have felt.
The organization was terrible. As my retired army father would say, it was "piss poor planning." Coming back from the ceremony was a wreck. All the side streets were closed off, leaving only a few roads for people to leave through. We were shoulder to shoulder with other people, inching along. At one point it took fifteen minutes to walk one block. We crammed once more into the metro and rode back, glad to get out.
And let's not forget the communists. We ran into the Revolutionary Communist Party twice in our inauguration adventure. I stopped to get pictures of one of the communist guys arguing with an Obama supporter (strange that they'd be arguing much), and asked the communist guy for caption information. Bad idea. He started going on and on about how America is terrorizing people overseas, how it doesn't ease foreign suffering, how Obama is an imperialist, etc. While he talked I wanted to throw up, or punch him. He was literally foaming at the mouth as he spoke, which added to my nausea. I didn't say much. After getting his info, I told him I was a hardcore capitalist (he asked) and went on my way. It wasn't worth my time to hang around and argue with a fanatic. Not when I could be taking pictures. Garrett picked up their paper "Revolution: Voice of the Revolutionary Communist Party, USA."
Speaking of Garrett, I was incredibly glad to have had him there. I didn't expect him to go out to the inauguration with me, but he did, saying that he wasn't going to let me walk alone in DC with 2 million extra crazies in town. He helped me navigate the Metro and the bus, kept a hold on me in the crowds, watched for crazy people (which I seemed to attract that weekend), and got me out of the whole mess when it got too cold. Not to mention giving me a place to sleep and food. What a guy.
The experience was both scary and enlightening. I had never seen such fanatacism so widespread and up close before. I wonder what I'll think in ten or twenty years when I look back on that day. The beginning of the end? Will I speak of it like Germans speak of the rise of Hitler? How Atlas Shrugged became reality?
I hope not. I really hope not.
You can see my photos from the day here.
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