The long-awaited right-wing revolution hit our nation’s capital this weekend.
Operation American Spring (OAS) launched Friday, warning that “as many as ten million” protesters would rally “against the incumbent government leadership in Washington D.C., with the mission to replace [it] with law abiding leadership.”
I wrote that this would never happen just a few months ago in an open letter to militant Republicans: Nope, you aren’t going to overthrow the government. Statistically, I pointed out, the GOP’s fascists are “the cranky, loudmouthed oafs that AM talk radio targets with ads for Viagra and antacids”. I also pointed out that their past failures to “recruit enough people to obstruct just four lanes of traffic” – significant, given this weekend’s target of ten million protesters.
The revolutionaries had all of the usual responses. My demographics were (somehow) wrong. I woefully underestimated their unstoppable military prowess and fearsome nunchuck skills. And I would learn all of this the hard way if revolution ever came to my city, that is if I dared to show my commie face, which of course I wouldn’t.
So this afternoon, I pulled on my party-issued commie uniform, called my dear mother to say one last goodbye, and headed to the White House to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Obummer against the rising tide of revolution.
It didn’t go as I expected.
This is what OAS looked like when you first stepped off the metro. For some insane, irresponsible reason, the DC Police let George Washington University schedule its commencement right in the middle of the revolutionary battlefield. Foreground: a handful of right-wing warriors reconsider their battle plan.
It was a beautiful day out! Here a faction of OAS argues over tactics as crowds of tourists, joggers and commencement-goers skirt around them. The woman in black started frantically yelling “PREEV-YET” at me once she saw my commie t-shirt. I think this was her impression of Russian. Speaking of t-shirts, the pink/orange shirt on the guy in the center was an official Operation American Spring shirt.
These, my friend Casey and I decided, were the shirts we needed to look for. Looking across the National Mall, we saw a large swarm of orangish-pink gathered around the Washington Monument.
Turns out they were just a bunch of kids on a field trip to see the Washington Monument. Did you know the Monument opened this week after three years of repairs following an earthquake in 2011? Thanks, Obama!
Undaunted, Casey spotted another group of orange shirts in an open field further west. Perhaps this was where OAS was mustering its shock troops?
Nope! Just a young adult soccer league. Some people might think of the beautiful lawns surrounding the National Mall as a battlefield, but most families and able-bodied youth seem to think of it as a good place to throw a frisbee.
It was tempting to feel discouraged, but the weather really was gorgeous, and seemingly everyone in sight was in bright spirits. Almost by accident, I noticed across the reflecting pool a few pink dots by the Lincoln Memorial. Maybe America’s rebels and traitors were planning one last attack on Honest Abe? Casey and I were both getting hungry at this point, but it seemed worth checking out…
No luck. Those weren’t even people! They were just pink tents at some kind of health expo. Yes, there were a couple more orange shirts in the background. No, we didn’t bother to check.
By the end of our journey, these were the only OAS warriors we could find: two sad old men consoling each other on a park bench, one draped in the American flag.
Operation American Spring may not have worked out as its organizers intended, but it definitely accomplished two things.
First, of course, it has cemented President Obama’s legacy as the second Commander-in-Chief to preside over the glorious triumph of the federal government in a national civil war. Historians will remember Obama for not only routing his treacherous opposition, but by doing so decisively and without spilling a single drop of blood. Thanks to his heroic leadership, Obama has revealed his neo-Confederate opposition be exactly who I said they are: the quickly disappearing remnant of a bygone age, a fringe, impotent band of radicals who have long outlived their welcome in civilized society.
Second, this weekend proves that say what you will about the federal government – it knows how to run a national park. You don’t have to come to Washington DC just to yell at the locals or plan their violent murder – just check out our meticulously groomed lawns and lovingly manicured gardens!
The government can ruthlessly crush your doomed insurrection, or it can host your weekend football game. And the best part of being an American is that the choice is up to you!
Carl Beijer is a Marxist working in Washington, DC to slowly but surely inaugurate the dictatorship of the proletariat.