While the rest of the nation has been lulled into a Bidonian utopia, spurts of unrest have breached the seemingly impenetrable borders of New England.
Chaos erupted yesterday in Boston, MA, when a protest formed outside of the county’s largest Dunkin’ Donuts. At 8:00 a.m., in the midst of the morning drive-thru rush, a horde of citizens blocked the flow of Toyota Highlanders.
One man, donning a tattered “First Annual Straight Pride Parade” t-shirt, began his address to the parking lot.
“My fellow Bostonian brothers and sisters, our nation is at a crossroads,” the man exclaimed “Once, this was a great city, filled with revolutionaries. Boston has never backed down from a challenge. When the British taxed us, we threw their tea in the harbor. When the Mollases Flood swept through our streets, we rebuilt. When the church failed us, we continued to attend. So why now, in the face of blatant, Orwellian authoritarianism, do we tuck our tails and run? Joseph Robinette Biden and the rest of the Demo-CCP-ratic party will be washed away in the Storm. We will not let the grasp of Mao suffocate The Spirit of America!”
“As he has done to the proud people of Tibet!” another voice proclaimed.
Heads turned at these remarks regarding the Chinese occupation of the Himalayan country. Scattered whispers arose discussing the relevancy of this point, as well as concerns about exactly where and what Tibet is.
“The Dalai Lama was forced to flee his rightful homeland when the Republic knocked down its gates 50 years ago. For decades, he has been pursued and denounced by PLA and its tyrannical leaders.”
Fists raised by crocheted arms pierced the winter air. “The United States must use its considerable power to ensure the search for the 15th Dalai Lama lies in the hands of the Tibetan people, and no one else! Meddling in other countries’ business is unacceptable!” cried a woman unintentionally wearing a $700 vintage Grateful Dead shirt.
The crowd’s division became clear in the fervor to protect their versions of democracy.
What was supposed to be a rally for the assertion of Twitter rights had been accidentally co-opted by the Boston Symposium for a Freer Tibet, who believed the group’s anti-China agenda to be their own. Scuffles broke out in the crowd, trading cries of “Nazi” and “Commie”.
When asked for a comment on the situation, one Dunkin patron replied, “Listen bud, the playoffs are on at 2:30, I don’t have time for this shit. My fuckin Coolatta is probably melting all over the place while these morons discuss Asian geopolitics with next to no nuance! The only issue people should be talking about right now is Belichick and the Medal of Freedom. Insurrection this, unpatriotic that, the fact is, we played like shit this season. I don’t even know how this clown got nominated.”
Screams and silence as one member of the Tibetan bloc walked out of the Dunkin carrying the spent Wake-Up wrap bacon grease, dousing himself. ‘Everyone, shut the fuck up! These words are meaningless. Ever since the Dalai Lama got his book co-signed by Obama, everyone thinks this whole Tibet situation is sunshine and lollipops. That’s why right here, I will shed this material vessel in protest and be born again from the fire. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Does anyone have a light?”
“Isn’t that from the Bible?”
“Jimmy, aren’t you at St. Lukes?”
“We got Confirmed together.”
“Do you even believe in Reincarnation?”
“Not in front of the children, Jimmy!”
“Jimmy, what about your poor mother? What would she think?”
“Don’t make the Father come down here.”
“Come on, Jimmy, let’s go down to Wahlburgers and catch the game. I think we all got a little too excited.”
For one, brief moment, people realized that what divided them was far insignificant to what united them: Catholic guilt and blaming their unhappiness on China.
As the crowd dissipated, it seemed as if everyone walked away a little more hopeful, a little more understanding, and a little more entrenched in their fruitless, lifelong struggle to never become their parents.
So that day, instead of violence and screams, the people of Boston did what they did best: watched sports and mindlessly consumed Dunkin’. At the end of the day, isn’t that what America runs on?
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