Posted on 02/21/2004 5:58:34 PM PST by Zunt Toad
While driving through Manchester, we were initially afraid that we might have a bit of trouble finding Dennis Kucinich's campaign headquarters. All of the other candidates' "victory" parties were held in large halls or notable restaurants, whereas old Dennis had his party in a nondescript office building. But whatever Kucinich HQ lacked in terms of, you know, prominence, it more than compensated for with its carnivalesque atmosphere.
Walking in, it was obvious that this was not to be a run-of-the-mill political gathering. Instead of the business suits and ties typical at political conventions, there was a cast of characters who could have passed for circus performers. Two clowns, Mariah and John--one huge and the other diminutive, but dressed identically--immediately caught our eye. They traipsed through the crowd administrating cheer and joy to the young-at-heart. As delightful as the clowns appeared, we decided to sidestep them and exploit Dennis for his snacks.
Before we could get close to the buffet table, a woman began shrieking with jubilation. "Dennis is at two percent, and the polls are just starting to come in!" she squeaked with glee. "And that's with only eight percent of precincts reporting!" the man next to her chimed in enthusiastically. As the good news slowly filtered through towards the front of the room, a Kucinich official took the stage and announced: "If we double every week, we'll be there by May. We'll have one-thousand percent!" It seems the Kucinich crowd lacked elementary arithmetic skills--along with a sense of reality.
Spurred on by morbid curiosity, we approached the stage. A protest-folk group played modern covers. Luckily they soon departed the stage, only to be replaced by the self-proclaimed "Ambassador of the Blues to Ghana," Tim Reynolds. "Welcome to the moral victory party... We know that the Christian Right isn't!" he shouted to the crowd. We suppose we should give the Kucinich gang credit for the phrase "moral victory party"--it's a rather clever way (if a sad one) to save face in the face of crushing defeat.
As Ambassador Reynolds fired musical sallies against various conservative pundits, we slowly crept to the back of the crowd and continued toward the buffet. Surveying the offerings, we asked the man tending the various warmers to point us in the direction of a dish which did not contain tofu or peyote. He glanced quickly from one end of the table to the other, and simply shrugged his shoulders. We decided that the penne pesto with meat was a safer bet than the Colombian vegetable stir-fry. After indulging in large portions, we returned our attention to the stage, nearly choking as we heard Reynolds lead the crowd in a rousing denunciation of Thanksgiving.
Things continued to get weirder. After the good Ambassador made his exit, a bleached-blonde, fake-baked Wayne Newton look-alike took the stage. He was clad in a white, glittery suit and an imitation priest's collar. A faux gospel choir, which we had previously mistaken for a group of monks, accompanied him. He had fire-and-brimstone bluster, but it was wasted for lack of a coherent message. "Dennis Kucinich will tax and regulate international criminals! Hallelujah!" the preacher shouted. He continued with his rant, entreating us to "feel the spirituality of resistance! Hallelujah! Amen!" There wasn't much mention of what we were to resist, aside from Wal-Mart, Starbucks and Nike. Our "shopping souls" were luckily saved.
Once again, we retreated into the crowd but were met by more horrors. First, there was a woman brandishing an "I [heart] NY & Baghdad" pin. Whilst gaping at the woman, the choir made its exit, but another screaming Kucinich campaigner replaced it. "He has the eyes that see through the lies, he has a healthy sense of skepticism!" she caterwauled.
Just when we thought things couldn't get sillier, John and Mariah (the clowns) climbed onto the stage. As it turns out, they are also hip-hop rappers. "We all have the dream / Now imagine a dream team!" they began. Their fat rhymes also included delightful lines like: "They don't call it a political party for nothing!" "Repeal the Patriot Act / Bring our troops back!" "Have you ever heard of that symbol Ying-Yang? Oh yeah!" "Eat your spinach / Vote Kucinich." We are not making this up.
We found ourselves wandering aimlessly about the room, talking to various supporters and media folk in an attempt to gauge the depths of their delusion. We managed a sweet contact high from strolling too close to the woman guarding a djimbe drum with an infant. Amongst the loonies, we ran into a fetching young co-ed from Boston U, who had also been assigned the same insufferable fate of covering this joke for her school paper. She was sitting off to the side, trying to hide her barn coat, scarf, and Polo sweater--they did not blend in with the denim-and-paisley-clad hippies. Since we wore ties and shoes that were not made out of hemp (after all, we were representatives of the press), we had long ago given up any prospects of remaining clandestine. By this time, Linsalata was horrifying most present by promenading around with a cigar clenched between his teeth.
Regrettably, any overtures to the temptress from Boston were cut short by the entrance of the Kucinich himself. He slowly worked his way through a mass of unbathed supporters before reaching the stage to make his speech. We were unable to stay for the entirety of Kucinich's "moral victory" speech, as the noxious fumes emitting from the thronging hippies quickly became unbearable, necessitating a hasty retreat on our part. We walked several blocks to Kerry's celebration and regrouped at the bar, grateful for our narrow escape.
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