It's not what I was made to do, but believe me, I still care

I aten't dead! I have been flat for the last two days and would have continued the practice except for No Kings, but since it turned out the nearest rally was a grand total of ten minutes from my house I walked them to practice my democratically rightful freedom of assembly in the brightly freezing afternoon and was rewarded with the unexpected company of a long-time and little-seen friend who is not on DW and some excellent signs and costumes, of which I confess myself the most impressed by the inflatable riding frog. It was one of a small party on the lesser island of the rotary which included an impressively starred-and-striped Uncle Sam and an otherwise normally dressed protester wearing an American flag top hat. I suspect these rallies of being the one context nowadays in which I do not side-eye the deployment of traditional patriotic imagery. The larger island hosted a solo and determined Make Orwell Fiction Again. I had a chance to compliment the sign against The Lyin King whose black-on-red silhouetting had gone particularly doom metal in the execution, like a kind of psychedelic death's-head poppy. A woman whose jacket was embroidered with dragons and her pants with forests carried signs for herself and her artistically antifascist high-schooler. We had no signs of our own—I said that I was queer and here and that was about what I was up for—but were welcomed onto the curb to wave at the traffic, standing next to No War in Iran. The drive-by honking was heartening and considerable. I felt prudent to have brought earplugs. The crowd meanwhile went wild for the SUV from Cambridge Immigration Law. Making eye contact with passengers and drivers who waved back or thumbs-upped felt as useful as the presence or the noise, especially when it was someone with a headscarf or visibly non-white. The Amazon driver absolutely leaned on the horn as they went through. We were a comparatively small group, but I was not physically capable of getting myself to Boston Common and glad to have been able to demonstrate at all. I want it to mean something beyond the carnival of free expression, although the free expression should not be taken for granted: just around this time of last year was the abduction of Rümeysa Öztürk. I am going to eat some chopped liver on a challah roll and return to irregularly scheduled flatness.