As the court is clearly not going to do the right thing with Kurt, it’s become necessary to ratchet up our protestation to a new level. There are now daily candlelight vigils, as announced on the forums within, and it’s time to let the general citizenry — the folks who really matter in all this — know that options are available to them. We need to start getting down to the court each morning, as the crowds are arriving to be processed through the obedience machine, to tell them, with signs, songs, flyers, and discussion, that this could happen to any one of us, and will, if we don’t start pushing back!
I have plenty of appropriate signs, and anyone may come over to paint a personal one — just contact me. I’m also working on an outreach flyer with an artist. I’d like to hear from anyone else who has other suggestions for making this a success.
One of the problems with these events is the silence — often broken and filled with patter, chatter and inappropriate laughter. Attempts are often made to pack it with chanting, but — especially to the liberty-loving — that sounds mindlessly ovine.
A better approach, it seems, would be music — and history backs up that assertion: No major movement in American history has caught on without songs. I fondly remember singing along with “Fixin’ to Die Rag” and “Give Peace a Chance” during the Vietnam War years; I can also recall loving the ubiquitous call-and-response songs like “Kill for Peace” and the indispensable “We Shall Overcome” (We’ll ignore “Kum-Ba-Yah” for this discussion . . .).
The flexible nature of that form allows the song to be tailored to a particular situation, and can galvanize a group into constructive action far better than chanting or random prattle. In a tense situation, confidence can easily begin to falter; I saw first-hand how a single voice beginning to sing “We Shall Overcome,” and getting a chorus going, could reassure every single person in that crowd that overcoming really was inevitable. When another voice called out, “We are not afraid!,” and we began to sing along, we almost magically became unafraid. When it got to “We shall not be moved” — we weren’t. That contribution to the success of the civil rights movement was instrumental (no pun intended . . .).
The Twenty-first Century liberty movement is sorely in need of a similar anthem! And with that in mind, I wrote something to submit that might do until a good one comes along . . .:
SOMEDAY, SOMEDAY SOON
Freedom, someday, someday soon!
Freedom, someday, someday soon!
And we’ll work for all we’re worth for liberty.
As we know tomorrow’s sun will rise,
We see, with hearts, as well as eyes,
That someday, someday soon, we will be free.
Click here to listen to the melody. I sang it alone last night, and it didn’t sound too bad to me — but then, as H. L. Mencken pointed out, a man always believes that his wife is pretty and his children are intelligent . . .
Any seven-syllable phrase with alternating stresses will serve for the first two lines, and virtually anyone can think up something like that, even under the spontaneous pressure of a crowd situation. Some examples:
We are not afraid of you
Jail will only strengthen us
We will break the chains you forge
All your laws are paper threats
You can never jail our souls
We will never bow to you
In your power, you are weak
We do not belong to you
We forgive you for your crimes
Cage us, still our souls will soar
Drop your guns and join with us
Your corruption cannot last
You can change your evil ways
We can see right through your lies
Truth is light that frightens you
Cam’ras show the truth you hide
We are not your property
Your corruption is exposed
Did you get your stories straight?
You can’t legislate at will
Yes, we will Live Free or Die
And, just for the moment:
We’ll do this till Kurt is free!
Kurt will walk and see again!
If we can start to make our point, emphatically but peaceably, that we’re not going to take it anymore, and neither does anyone else have to, we’ll be on our way to a freer, safer environment in the town we love so much.
So be at the courthouse on Monday, November 23, at — sorry about that — 7:30 A.M. There’ll be signs, flyers to hand out, and now we have a song to sing (we can practice while you’re over painting that sign, if you like). Protesting is not my favorite activity, I must admit, and 7:30 is certainly not my favorite time of the morning — but I keep asking myself: If I don’t do this for Kurt, who’ll do it for me, if I end up in the same position?
