By On the occasion of our 20th anniversary
By Gustavo Arellano
By R. Scott Moxley
By Alfonso Delgado
By Courtney Hamilton
By Joel Beers
By Peter Maguire
By Charles Lam
Within a few minutes, about 20 Communists showed up from LA to protest the Nazis with signs that read, "Smash Racism Through Communist Revolution." And they were all Mexican. The JDL and Garber started getting Bob Dornan levels of crazy. A little man in a USS Missouri cap kept whining, "Who invited the Communists down?" while his partner, a woman with an accent of indeterminate origin, kept murmuring, "Let us go. We have nothing to do with Communists."
"Communists are not allowed here!" Garber yelled through his megaphone, as if he had a monopoly on stupidity. Someone—I believe it was Irv Rubin of the JDL—responded heatedly that everyone was entitled to his opinion, and then told Garber to keep his political opinions to himself. "Don't you dare restrict my vocal cords!" Garber shouted. Everyone was yelling at everyone else—even the libertarians were starting to get into the act, especially when Garber chanted, "Shut down the Shack," which wasn't the purpose of the gathering; it was pretty well accepted that everyone—the Shack and Nazis included—was entitled to his opinions, and we were there merely to make ours known as well. And there weren't even any Nazis there.
Garber finally left when the Black Bloc showed up—three sweet suburban anarchists in Joy Division T-shirts—as did some dirty hippies with bongos and some Mexican guys who were turning it into a La Raza rally. (One poster showed a fierce Aztec, his finger pointed like Uncle Sam, and the legend, "Who's the Illegal Alien, Pilgrim?"). But Garber didn't go far; he hung out across the street, where, like Yertle the Turtle (who's the king of all he surveys), he could be the King of the Protest from afar. It was a delightful fiasco, cooking in the August sun. And Howard Garber is an asshole.
Bring it on, Howard Garber: CommieGirl99@hotmail.com.