American Wars

I am all geared up for a protest. I am ready to burn down buildings. Turn over cars. Spray paint dirty little words like "sanctimonious," and "fascist, " on white walls. I hear that in London the Brits have taken to the street over tuition hikes. The PEOPLE are bloody screaming, rock-throwing, finger-flipping, flame throwing.

I'm certain our revolt is on its way. The thugs are holding us hostage. Penalizing the workers. Misappropriating public funds. It's going down! I've filled my bucket with hot water, torn bricks out of the wall, and duck-taped phone books to my chest. I am waiting...I am waiting...pacing back and forth, peering out the window. Somebody give me the signal. Show me the sign.

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