THREE O'CLOCK ANTIWAR PROTEST UPDATE

Mild ruckus down at Market and Montgomery Streets - about two hundred rather disreputable people confronting the very patient constabulary. Traffic blocked in all directions, with a white arrestee bus on South Montgomery near the art school. Two people with megaphones making what sounded like airport announcements.

No news helicopters overhead.

I'm bored.

Twelve Galaxies guy was also bored. He moved off before I could take a photo.

Some simple-minded fat man got into a screaming match with an unwellspoken young person with a bad haircut. Even though he presented his arguments supporting the war in an unconvincing manner, it was evident that he and his opponent were intellectual equals - the top-of-their-lungs conversation revealed no surprises, no talent for rhetoric, no cogent argumentation. Such a perfect match, they should've made passionate love to each other right there and then - I doubt that they would have ever found each other again, and despite their repulsiveness and unaesthetic physiques, they made a lovely couple.
Unfortunately, they simple kept it at high-decibel flirting. Shoot.

I'm soooo bored.

Eventually most of the police moved off. There was little point in staying, as they had expeditiously packed the dangerous people into the prison bus.

I really must commend the police in San Francisco. Patient, forbearing. Courteous. Very well-mannered. Such a contrast with our visitors from Berkeley. Better dressed, too.

Crap this is boring.

For your information, the city is still not shut down. This is a breach of promise on the part of the Direct Action to Stop the War folks and their cohorts.

Frank Chiu is wandering around looking for a protest. The guy selling his own rap-ceedees outside the Wells Fargo on the corner is doing no more and no less business as usual. The newspaper vendor seems happily in his own world, unconcerned with the unimpressive ruckus two blocks away. There are several people in the window-lounge of the cigar shop, less than half a block from the angry hairy folks at Market and Montgomery street, enjoying what appears to be a quiet and relaxed post-prandial smoke. An unbalanced person at Sansome and Sutter Streets is hollering at an invisible friend to stop kicking him. The gaunt engineer in the office across the street from me is smoking a pipe while correcting some documents.

There are no helicopters. The sky is nice and blue, with spots of white. A gentle breeze stirs the fresh green of the trees. Did I ever mention that I smoke a pipe?

Krikey I'm bored.