Postcards from the convention

Unanswered questions...So many unanswered questions.......

AUGUST 30-31:

Kentucky Fried Pacification

After visiting the Denver art gallery, we head to the station where we discover that the train to Denver is 2 hrs late.  When the train does finally arrive and we take off, we end up stalled in the exciting (sarcasm) Great Plains, arriving in Chicago more than 5 hrs later than scheduled, sending our much anticipated plans for Chicago deep dish pizza up in flames.  However, before our arrival in Chicago, AMTRAK picks up some KFC as each hungry passenger is placated by a free meal comprised of 3 large pieces of chicken, a bowl of coleslaw, mashed potatoes and a large biscuit! Many people have missed their connections but we fortunately make our connection to Buffalo with little time to spare.

Too much time to think:

Never drive or train across the Midwest. If you need to travel across the United States, fly and spare yourself the agony of 2 empty wastelands known as "Nebraska" and "Iowa." With little else to do but stare out the window at the Great Plains of Nebraska (left) and never-ending cornfields of Iowa (right), all I can do is reflect upon my experiences at the DNC.  In the process of such relentless thought, I am forced to challenge the blind optimism I felt only days prior. The emotional buzz of INVESCO Field, which left me with a naively optimistic view of Obama's campaign, is now fading as the cynicism returns and I now interpret Obama's emotional power over people as disturbing rather than uplifting.  When I return and countless family members and friends ask me "what did you think of the DNC?" I will respond that "I am still thinking" because it is certainly going to take me months of thought and reflection in order to make sense of what I have experienced.  Ultimately, the 3 of us leave this country with an overall negative view of the United States as a country but a sympathetic view of the American people as victims of this nation who possess an admirable level of strength which I pray will endow them with the ability to overcome this nightmare...with or without the help of Barack Obama.

--- Johnathan Buck

Homeward Bound

AUGUST 30:

On the train ride back I was burned out and ready to sleep through the whole trip back. I sat down in my seat beside a woman who clearly hadn't had her fill of politics from the week long convention. Despite my attempts to sleep, she wanted to talk about the week that had passed by. However, like a typical Obama supporter she was actually more interested in the future. She described her intentions to go to Chicago for election night, which she was sure would be a celebratory environment due to her anticipation of Obama's win. Apparently she had already reserved a room in Washington in January for what she expected to be his inauguration. After talking with her for some time and helping her bring her luggage to her connecting train, she gave me a pair of self-made Obama earrings for my girlfriend. I decided that this woman, with her unyielding hope and DIY dedication, epitomized what I realized during the whole convention - that the zeal and fervour of many Americans over Barack Obama's candidacy went beyond politics. I have yet to decide if this is a good or a bad thing.

--- Alex Alton

Someone should drop a boulder on Boulder

AUGUST 29:

After this hectic week, we decided to just take it easy today. Sick of Denver, we have decided to hang around Boulder instead. In the morning, we do a quick tour of the beautiful University of Colorado at Boulder campus, supposedly world-renowned for its science program (I should have gone mountain-climbing instead --- the decision not to go will haunt me forever). We then went to the local cafe, full of university students, where we watch the scenery and relax, hanging out with a fellow Canadian from Quebec who we had met at the hostel.

Boulder = California East:       

In case you aren't familiar with Boulder, it is an upscale university town set against the gorgeous backdrop of the Rocky Mountains (albeit the foot of the Rocky Mountains and thus lacking the majestic jagged peaks of the further West Rockies) and populated almost entirely by spoiled students from California, the males of which have the appearance and behaviour of brain-dead surfer-types and the females of whom are largely cell-phone-clutching materialistic bimbos. It's also the most homogenous city I have ever seen in my entire life as every single person here are white upper-class students. At night, the Bourgeois boobs drink and mildly "party" all night (it must be due to the low alcohol content of American beer) before heading to downtown Boulder --- a city entirely devoted to serving these students --- and   fill up on expensive sandwiches and pitas at 3am (I kid you not). Oh yeah, Skateboarding is big here...really really big.... so is driving around town in luxurious cars purchased by their rich mommies and daddies.  I've only been here one day and my blood is already boiling. I depart for the real world tomorrow.

--- Johnathan Buck

A DAY TO REMEMBER

AUGUST 28:

Obama = Box of Soapflakes, Denver = Police State....need I say more?:

Today, we wake up, catch the bus to Boulder in the impossible hope of entering INVESCO field in order to see Obama deliver his acceptance speech. There are still police EVERYWHERE.  Some claim that the overwnhelming police presence is justified due to the assassination threats.  Try telling that to the elderly gentleman sitting beside me on the bus from Boulder to Denver --- he is an elderly Presbyterian minister who was peppersprayed at the 2004 DNC in Boston while engaged in a peaceful demonstration against the Iraq and Afghanistan wars.  The police presence in Boston was equally draconian and yet Kerry was hardly a major assassination target!  The Reverend attributes the police presence, and the two Middle Eastern wars, to a "culture of war" as he prays that America will one day adopt a "culture of peace."  

There are venders EVERYWHERE, especially along 16th Street Market in Denver, selling tacky Obama-themed merchandise ranging from t-shirts to hats to dolls to buttons to pictures to bracelets to posters to action figures. The line up of these venders also extends alongside the seemingly never-ending lineup of smiling people snaking their way toward INVESCO field for this, the final day of the convention. Is Obama Micky Mouse or something? This is sickening. Obama’s historic campaign is being cheapened, debased and reduced to a tacky political carnival which serves as a mockery of democracy itself. At the end of the line, we are turned away by security for not having the proper credentials, as a hotdog vender in the background can be heard yelling "get your Obama-dogs — hot and juicy and full of hope!" We are disgusted by the commercial exploitation of Obama, frightened by the Orwellian police presence, fundamentally upset by the racism and disappointed by our inability to get into the stadium. At this point, we just wanna go home. Anxious to return to Canada, we head to Denver Union Station to see about leaving tonight, 2 days before our scheduled return date. All the trains are booked. We are trapped in this politically and socially ill country. Disappointed by our inability to get into INVESCO field and anxious to leave this city, Yusuf and Alex return to the hostel in Boulder while I stay in Denver, determined to ignore the sickness long enough to bear witness to history.

  The Dis-United States of AmeriKKKa:

On my way to INVESCO field, I become lost and befriend a young woman from Kentucky who is trying to find her way to a bar near that same stadium. Apparently she was raised in a very strict conservative community, where her teachers, church and family told her she would burn in hell for so little as taking a sip of beer. Now, she is making her way to a bar to drink with friends in celebration of a liberal black man’s race for the presidency! In a constant reminder of how bitterly divided this nation truly is, a redneck holding a sign reading "Obama bin Biden" approaches a group of African-American who have set up shop alongside the INVESCO field lineup. The redneck points out the wittiness of his sign in an obvious attempt to provoke them. The venders claim "blacks don’t blow up buildings" to which the redneck responds "yeah, but they rob stores." Even the Democratic Party itself is shown to be bitterly divided as the Kentucky woman and I wander away from the escalating racist confrontation, passing by Clinton supporters who are protesting Obama’s acceptance of the party nomination. How can Obama possibly unite the nation when his own party remains so divided?

The mind-blowing experience of a lifetime:

Myself and Kentucky girl head to the front gates where youth are gathered beside radios listening to Gore’s speech. A man steps in front of us and asks for credentials. Unable to get in, we soon come across a couple of men who are also determined to get into INVESCO. The four of us are convinced that we’ve found a point where there are no police and we can just walk up to the stadium but, much to our surprise, a group of men with rifles come out of hiding and shout at us to go back from where we came. After Kentucky girl goes her separate way, I climb a hill to the overpass where a police officer claims I can get the best view of the convention and I record the following.

I am watching Obama through a chainlink fence on a hill overlooking INVESCO field. Everyone has their cameras out, anxious to capture this period of hope for renewal. Straight ahead of me, Obama’s face is projected upon a monolithic screen surrounded by a deafening sea of people with brilliant waves of camera flash. I am not watching history in the making...I am experiencing it. Considering the mind-blowing fact that the entire world is simultaneously looking inside that exact stadium at this exact moment, the atmosphere outside the stadium is surprisingly quiet, not the awkward sort of quiet, but a peaceful sort of quiet which is periodically broken by thunderous applause and the buzz of security helicopters circling overhead. I am by no means a strong supporter of Obama’s campaign but here I am overcome by the emotion of this atmosphere as I clutch the chainlink fence which separates me from the stadium.  Everyone around me is teary-eyed — from elderly African-Americans who more than 4 decades ago could not vote to idealistic youths who smile and nod with approval at Obama’s every word.  It is as if each and every eloquent word emanating the stadium has hypnotized the people, penetrating their very souls and forcing tears from their eyes. This is intense. The police across the street are gathered around a van as they listen to Obama’s address on the radio. Directly across from these police are youth, mostly Hippie-types, lined up along the chainlink fence and sitting on the curb. Beyond the fence and below the hill, Christian Right and McCain supporters are gathered along a quiet street seeking to stir up trouble by shouting that "McCain is a war hero" and "Obama is a zero." They appear so small and insignificant against the behemoth stadium, towering straight ahead of them and packed with tens of thousands of rapturous Obama supporters. Maybe it is the mountain air or sentimentality of this emotionally-charged atmosphere speaking, but I suddenly have some degree of (blind?) faith that Obama can help cure this sickened nation. In stark contrast to the previous days of racial confrontation and police/protester intimidation, people are noticeably at ease as police officers and activists alike smile and wave to one another. Following Obama’s address, the serenity is broken by a river of smiling and laughing people flowing from INVESCO field and into the downtown core of Denver, where optimistic Americans loudly celebrate the birth of a new era through drink, dance and music.

Yes, I came "all the way from Canada"...

During the post-acceptance speech celebrations in downtown Denver, everyone seems impressed by the fact that I have come all the way from Canada in order to witness the DNC. Street venders, high on the jubilation which followed Obama’s acceptance speech at INVESCO field, give me a free banner, poster, bumper sticker and commemorative hat upon learning that I am from Canada. "Take this button back with you to Canada and tell them America’s changing" says an elderly African-American woman after I tell her that I am from Canada and most Canadians support Obama. At one of these vending stands, I meet a delegate from California. Astonished that I have come all the way from Canada, he assumes that I am an Obama supporter and urges both me, and my absent friends, to work as volunteers in the key battleground state of Ohio. In an attempt to explain the relevancy of Canadian participation in the US election, the delegate looks around to make sure no one is listening and tells me something he claims he would never say in front of his fellow democrats: "I honestly believe we are saving the world."

Beer with a Congressman:

Struck with an overwhelming urge to participate in the celebration which has taken hold of the city, I stop by a bar in downtown Denver where a popular liberal Colorado Congressman and his wife.  A self-proclaimed "child of the sixties," they are impressed by the fact that I endured almost 30 hours of train travel to come here, and buys me 2 beers as he denounces the Iraq antiwar protesters of the previous day for their lack of goals and purpose while expressing disgust they would seek to "recreate 68." He and his wife jokingly discuss the absurdity of security at INVESCO field, where the setup of security seems to imply that terrorists won’t walk places because they prefer to use trucks to carry out their dirty work.  Like virtually everyone else I've talked to, they are convinced that Obama will "bring light" to "8 years of darkness" represented by the Bush Presidency.  With so many people having invested so much faith in Obama as the saviour to a ruined nation, I feel as though the man is destined to fail if elected president.  Obama is after all only one man and one man alone cannot reverse all the damage caused by the Bush Administration.  

What is this, the 1950's or something?

On more than one occasion, I noticed the racial tensions surrounding this convention. Outside the concert tent where the Black-Eyed Peas were playing, a pony-tailed man with signs alleging that Obama is a "Black Muslim" and a Middle-Aged African-American woman are engaged in a heated verbal fight when, out of nowhere, a group of black men come up from behind the redneck and strike him in the arm, knocking the racist signs from his hands. A group of white men step in on the side of the redneck as the confrontation grows increasingly racialized –– a conflict between blacks on one side and whites on the other. This is mind-blowing. I thought this sort of stuff stopped in the 1950's! On a street corner, a young Navajo who admits to periodically drowning his sorrows in drunkedness, tells me that US democracy is "a sham," pointing out how he and his friends cannot vote because they served time in jail, allegedly placed there unfairly by a racist justice system. A group of African-Americans pass a bus stop where they are scolded by a man in a trucker cap for supporting a "Black Muslim" (it is odd how, amongst racists here, antiblack racism and Islamophobia often go hand-in-hand). Playing upon the fears which drive most anti-Obama racists at the dnc, one of the Obama supporters responds "pretty soon you’ll be working for us." Indeed, I was surprised that when I looked into the eyes of racists at the convention — from the "Obama bin Biden" guy earlier in the day to the pony-tailed protester outside the concert tent, I noticed not hate but fear.....fear that the white man will lose his privileged position in this changing society.

Should you forget your suit, remember to wear your white skin to the hotel: 

When I go to the Denver terminal in order to catch a bus back to Boulder, I encounter an elderly African-American doctor from Chicago named Robert on a park bench outside the station. It is an hour before the terminal opens, the air is frigid, and the Dr. needs to use the washroom. Because we are at the moment engaged in an active discussion on race and politics in America, the Dr. proposes we head to a nearby hotel in order to carry out a sociological experiment. As he approaches the doorway, a police officer rudely snaps "what do you want?" and abruptly says "no" when Robert asks to use the washroom. I ask the exact same question and am granted access to the hotel.  At a time in which 1000's of people are visiting the city for the DNC, it doesn't make any sense that an elderly man would be denied access to a hotel washroom: What if he has bladder problems? It’s ludicrous. As we enter the hotel and take the escalator, security is already waiting on the second floor to remove Robert from the building. "This is what black people go through every day" he explains as he analyses the situation, emphasizing that it is just as much an issue of class as race because if he had been wearing a fancy suit he probably would have been allowed inside. The 2 of us, he notes, are both wearing "the same sort of casual clothing," but I am wearing "something extra" — my "white skin." I shake my head at the notion that a doctor of medicine and education could be treated like a vagrant due to the colour of his skin. While I am convinced that the grassroots democracy surrounding Obama's campaign and Nader's progressive movement do indeed represent hope for change in the USA, these experiences with racism in America have taught me that true change must begin internally, with a change in the conditioned mindset and worldview of so many Americans.

--- Johnathan Buck

PHENOMENAL Concert, Disappointing Demonstration, and a Nadir of faith in US democracy

AUGUST 27:

RAGE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Before entering the Denver Coliseum at around 1pm in order to see the free Rage Against the Machine concert, we have to place our bags across the street for "security reasons" and, at the coliseum entrance, we are frisked for weapons. I can see the point of this, considering all the die-hard fans of Rage who are anxious to disrupt their once-in-a-lifetime chance to see their favourite band play for free at a historic DNC (sarcasm). Upon entering, people are given either a blue bracelet for spectator seating or an orange bracelet for access to the moshpit. We receive orange bracelets and blue-bracelet Rage fans are offering to buy our orange bracelets from us.  Rage plays such classics as "Testify," "Bulls on Parade," "Killing in the Name," as well as a performance of "Kick out the Jams" with MC5 guitarist and '68 DNC activist Wayne Kramer!  The concert is beyond awesome...a highlight of the DNC. I can’t even put it into words, and I'm pretty sure that not even the greatest of writers or story-tellers could aptly convey the sheer awesomeness of this moment which many would certainly give their kidneys in order to experience, so I won’t even bother trying to explain. Just watch it: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n2PfpLH3mhU;  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a0r3GtNNCfA&feature=related.

Rage is marching music:

Pumped-up by the powerful music of Rage Against the Machine, a hodgepodge of anarchists, liberals, Communists, environmentalists, immigrant-rights activists and Civil Rights activists have taken to the streets in support of the Iraq Veterans Against the War. There are far fewer demonstrators than was initially forcasted --- as usual, the amount of protesters has been exaggerated in order to justify an over-the-top police presence (there are probably between 500 and 1,000 police here!). Indeed, the protest is humorous at first, with one side of the street lined with camera-wielding journalists while the other side is flanked by baton-wielding riot police. Together, there are perhaps as many journalists and police as there are protesters!  However, the gravely serious human cost of the war is powerfully evident. Everywhere, demonstrators are carrying tombstone-shaped signs with the names and ages of US soldiers killed in the conflict.  The occasional appearance of teary-eyed wheelchair-ridden Vietnam and Iraq War veterans, who appear as sad islands within a sea of anger, are powerful enough to turn the most hardened hawk, for at least one second, against this morally unjust war.

You call this a protest? 

European demonstrations, not to mention protests of sixties America, put this protest to shame. The march seems sadly unorganized and largely ineffectual as it is noticeably disunited in its goals, with some marching to end the war and occupation of Iraq (the official reason for this march), others to legalize cannabis use, others to end wiretapping, others to grant amnesty to illegal immigrants and many for the sake of blindly lashing out at the Establishment. How can anything be accomplished when everyone is marching for something different? Compared to Canadian protesters, there is a greater sense of desperation and anger in people’s eyes. There is also a greater tendency for intimidation and violence as many try to provoke the police into attacking them (although it must be noted that the VAST majority of demonstrators are peaceful in every way, making the draconian police presence rather ludicrous). Many protesters tell me how, unlike Canadians, they are terrified of their government and frustrated by the inability to express themselves due to the decrepit state of US democratic institutions. I therefore cannot blame the protesters for their lack of unity and the preference of some American demonstrators for violence. This is precisely what fear and desperation does to people.

Nader, Penn, Morello, Sheehan, Biafra -- now, that's what I call a "Super Rally"!

With the convention closed off to the masses in a representation of elitist democracy and the protest demonstrating the dire state of grassroots democracy in the US with its lack of organization and disunity, the closest thing to a real sense of hope occurred at the University of Colorado, where Ralph Nader blasted both the Republicans and Democrats for their similar allegiance to Big Business and called for a greater role for 3rd parties at the "Open the Debates" super rally. The Nader movement truly epitomizes grassroots, bottom-up democracy, at its best.  Nader is opened by Tom Morello who does an awesome performance of the original version of Woodie Guthrie's "This Land is Your Land," which is most often censored in order to remove the socialistic verses: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BGfbfFWl7oI.  However, even this event depresses me to some extent, as celebrity speaker Sean Penn attracts more media attention and audience excitement than the impressive line-up of political speakers, his celebrity aura threatening to drain and rob the event of its substance.  Then again, considering how people worship celebrities, I suppose one could consider him a powerful asset to an important movement.

Who in the hell is that guy?

An angry old man sitting immediately behind us constantly reminds me how bitterly divided this nation truly is, as he constantly shouts at Cindy Sheehan as she addresses the audience, flinging both his arms in the air, his middle fingers extended.  His heckling ranges from the straight-forward "go back home bitch," to the sexist remark "go home and bake cookies," to the oft repeated "she's an embarassment to every vet in this country" and "veterans don't wanna hear this."  Everyone here is perplexed: Why did he pay to be here if he hates it so much?

--- Johnathan Buck   

Tension (temporarily?) alleviated

AUGUST 26:

 Aren't people normally shocked by assassination attempts?

Today, the 3 of us have decided to take it easy after the already overwhelming experiences of the previous day, with our only major plan being to visit the "Manifest Hope" Obama-themed artshow in "Lodo" ("Lower Downtown") Denver. Before heading out, I read the Boulder newspaper and learn of a foiled plot to kill Obama. The bus from Denver to Boulder, which we take twice a day, is just as much a place for political discussion as a mode of transportation, and the passengers we talk with seem surprisingly unsurprised about the assassination attempt against Obama.  Later, I ask an elderly man on the city bus if there is anything interesting in the news.  He points to an article about the assassinaton.  In the cliched Canadian way, I say "that's unbelievable, eh?" and he just shrugs his shoulders uninterested.  Everyone seems to act as if the assassination attempt was inevitable and, honestly, seem to expect worse. A police officer tells me that the high degree of security and police presence is likely to reach its peak on Thursday when the convention moves to INVESCO field, the site of the alleged assassination plot.  Walking down 16th Street Market, I notice venders selling shirts bearing the likeness of both Obama and MLK and excited, idealistic, liberals constantly compare Obama to RFK. At the "Manifest Hope" gallery, there is a monolithic Warhol-esque picture fusing the face of Obama with that of Lincoln and a painting depicting Obama standing arms folded in front of the Lincoln Memorial.  Whether people say it or not, there is a deep fear within the hearts of Obama's followers that the Illinois Senator will meet the same demise as the idealistic Attorney General, charismatic civil rights leader and Great Emancipator to which he is frequently compared. 

The Colonial Connection:

With little else to do in Denver, we head to Civic Center Park where a band is holding a concert against the Iraq War and most of the antiwar activists are gathered.  In order to reach this locus of antiwar and anti-imperial activism from the downtown core, we pass between monuments erected in celebration of the European conquest of the continent --- a racist statue of a beligerent Aboriginal warrior on horseback, a frontier cowboy and a monument glorifying Christopher Columbus. While I remain to take in their lyrics and the activist atmosphere, Yusuf and Alex head to the nearby Colorado State Capitol.  Draped over the walls near to the band are banners urging protesters to "Recreate '68."

The Boulder Express:

The bus from Denver to Boulder is packed with a variety of people, from University of Colorado students to delegates.  We sit with 2 female university students who are attempting to open a bottle of beer at the back of the bus. They tell Yusuf that he has a "Mexican accent" and offensively ask where he is "really from" after he tells them he is a Canadian.  It is a subtle sort of racism, not meant to be harmful, but it is nonetheless offensive and it is everywhere. So is the ignorance. Someone sitting near to us asks "who is the president of Canada?" --- this is the third time I have heard this question. In our discussions with convention delegates, we learn the frightening reality that, like many other Americans, many of them don't seem to know his platform as they go on empty rants about vague notions of "change" and "hope"! Well, what type of "change" and "hope" are they speaking of? It is disturbing that so many Americans have eagerly bought into Obama's vague messages of "hope" and "change" with little or no knowledge of his specific policies.  This seems like more of a cult of personality than a political campaign.

--- Johnathan Buck

Prayers and Sirens

AUGUST 25:

The protest in downtown Denver, after police used pepperspray against demonstrators, showed me the ugly side of the United States that I thought Obama would stop.  A protest is supposed to be an event where citizens express their views openly, but how could anyone express anything when the very institution that's supposed to protect you becomes your number one enemy.  It was extremely difficult as a Canadian witnessing this event because I normally respect these institutions.  I had a brief moment with a protester running toward the frontline between police and demonstrators in order to see if her peppersprayed friend was ok.  As I looked in her eyes, I saw courage yet a sense of fear that seemed to have always existed.  Her eyes expressed a sense of dejection and a loss of hope in the United States of America.  All of a sudden, on a park bench away from the violence, I heard a language that I thought would never be heard in this atmosphere --- I heard in Arabic the first verses of the Quran Prayer.  I heard the prayer amidst the sirens.

--- Yusuf Faqiri      

Is this what it looks like when democracy dies?

AUGUST 25:

Mile-High Arrival:

Early this morning, I learn exactly how divided the Democratic Party remains as I find Tim and Thomas engaged in a heated discussion in the AMTRAK lounge. Tim is convinced that medicare is the solution to the healthcare crisis while Thomas believes that government is a part of the problem, the reason that healthcare is so expensive, and it is the responsibility of corporations to take care of workers' health.  "I can't believe there are people in the party that think this way," complains Thomas as Tim leaves the scene.  What ensues is one of the most intelligent political discussions I have ever had as we talk about the healthcare crisis, the decline of the American Empire, election fraud in 2004, race and class in American politics and the social/economic/political effects of North America's economic transformation from manufacturing to service and high tech.  Our conversation is broken as a group of AMTRAK police interrupt and demand we show our passports. 

Media Circus: 

Getting off the train, we get our first glimpse of Denver and let me say it is nothing special --- kind of an ugly city roughly the size of Hamilton. Walking from the train station to the bus terminal in order to take the coach to our hostel in Boulder, we pass by the media stand for MSNBC. The area surrounding the stage is a complete circus with venders selling Obama merchandise, Evangelicals protesting abortion, 9/11 conspiracy theorists waving protest signs, and a group of riot police knelt down on the sidewalk nearby going through someone's luggage --- this is the first glimpse we get of the atmosphere surrounding the convention. It is impossible to explain how great the media presence is here. As we continue on to the terminal, we notice that half of all the people we see in this city have press passes dangling from their necks.The hostel in which we are staying is a former frat house for rich kids located near to the University of Colorado --- this hostel is the penultimate palace of hostels. The environmental conscience of this clean town is impressive and, unfamiliar with the bike streets of Boulder, we unknowingly obscure the paths of cyclists who speed toward us, swerving and cursing at us and, while picking up our groceries near the hostel, where mostly organic foods are sold, we are given a cloth bag with which to do our shopping. 

Welcolme to CHAOS-ORADO:

We arrive back in Denver just in time to witness an act of police brutality which transforms a peaceful march into a state of pure pandemonium.  Walls of baton-wielding riot police have surrounded a large group of peaceful protesters en route to the convention and pepper-sprayed the trapped marchers, who are guilty of nothing more than nonviolently exercising their democratic rights (see http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hRn9GarYBUw).  Panic-stricken friends and family members of those assaulted are chaotically running toward the pepper-spray hazy frontlines, with the look of utmost terror and fear in their eyes.  There is a girl rushing to the protest zone to recover her pepper-sprayed friend.  We remark how easily America could "turn Fascist" in the future; She replies with great sadness, "look around you, it's already happened."

What it looks like in 1930's Berlin...um, I mean 2000's Denver:

This is not a city....this is a police state. There are police clustered at every single corner in the city. Continuous rows of armoured vehicles pass by, with police hanging off the sides. Police are moving everywhere in military formations. Riot police clutching batons can be seen performing marching exercises on side streets. Hundreds of cops on bicycles race down 16th Street Market in continuous lines (I cannot emphasize enough that the photographs here do not do justice). Security helicopters can be seen and heard constantly circling overhead. If one looks closely, snipers can be seen on rooftops throughout Denver. There are so many police that actual city buses are being used by law enforcement in order to transport full loads of police officers to protest zones throughout the city! We pass one officer who is holding a leashed barking and snarling dog at a street corner. While some argue that this police presence is necessary due to bomb threats from anarchist terrorists and racists' assassination conspiracies against Obama, most people are noticeably uncomfortable with the overwhelming police presence.  We pass by a woman on a cell phone arranging with her husband to leave Denver with her kids before a "riot" or "massacre" occurs. Many are acknowledging the disturbing truth that, in this paranoid atmosphere overpopulated with armed officers, the tiniest misunderstanding could trigger a police riot or, god-forbid, a massacre. It is the mot intense near the frontlines, where angry activists stare down a line up of angry officers decked in riot gear amidst chants of "tell me what a police state looks like! this is what a police state looks like!" and an angry chorus of "f*** the police!" with the occasional return of profanities from officers. Here, at the frontlines, a suspicious man tells Yusuf that he does not believe that we are from Canada and asks to see our passports.  As Yusuf reaches for his passport with a typical Canadian naivity, I call him to the side and warn him not to show his ID to anyone because there are hundreds of plainclothed FBI agents stationed throughout the city, gathering information on people. I hate feeling so paranoid but that is the reality of the situation. Meanwhile, the police grow increasingly irritated as stressed officers yell at people to clear the sidewalks, at one point running toward us and hollering to step away from a cruiser we did not notice we were near.

Impossible to escape the police state:

Deeply disturbed by the Fascistic atmosphere, we leave the epicentre of commotion for a quieter location.  On the street alongside us, lines of armoured vehicles race to the front lines with police hanging off the sides.  We cross over to Civic Center Park, where a display encouraging American understanding of Iranians has been erected in an attempt to prevent racism and war through education.  As we stand here, talking to people involved with the project, and debating with an Islamophobic Christian fundamentalist opposed to the project, sirens scream and helicopters circle overhead, periodically bathing us in their searchlights. For us, Civic Center Park is an enclave of semi-calmness on the fringe of unbridled pandemonium. 

The REAL hope for America:

As we head back to the station in order to catch the bus back to Boulder, I meet the famous antiwar acivist leader Ron Kovic, about whom the film "Born on the Fourth of July" was made (.  Apparently, he left his hotel after someone told him "there was a riot outside," intending to place himself in the middle of such a conflict. He tells us that his "life represents peace not violence" as he emphasizes "we cannot be served by violence" and acknoweledges that there is a great deal of "apprehension and fear on both sides."  With Americans such as Kovic, who defiantly proclaims "they are not going to silence dissent in this city" and "they can take me to jail...I will not be silenced," I have faith that democracy will continue to survive another day. 

--- Johnathan Buck

Mile High Merchandising

AUGUST 25:

 

It appeared while walking through the streets of Denver that every business in town has some sort of a sign in their window that reads "Welcome 2008 Democratic National Convention Delegates." These signs hang everywhere from the Taco Bell to children's clothing stores, even adorning the panes of the local cabaret club. The streets are cluttered with impromptu vendors hocking their Obama branded paraphernelia. Obama's embracing grin is displayed on t-shirts, hats, posters, bobble-heads, buttons, cardboard cutout stands, fridge magnets, and anything else someone is gullible enough to buy, with the wares ranging from tacky to extremely tacky. The red, blue and white decorations that line the city are not much more aesthetically refined. However, the scenery, although garish, seems appropriate for the bizarre climate of the choreographed stage show that is this convention.

--- Alex Alton

Annoyed in Illinois, a corny story about Iowa and the not-so Plain trip through Nebraska

AUGUST 24:

Initial difficulty blowing out of the Windy City:

After trying out some awesome excellent deep-dish pizza at Uno's Pizzeria (all 3 of us are in agreement that this is by-far the best pizza we have ever had in our lives), we rush to Union Station. It is as if we have enjoyed ourselves too much because we make it there with only 10 minutes to spare...we run through the station and stop to pull our tickets from our bags. Alex does not have his ticket. It is gone. Where is it? Panic. We dig frantically through our bags. Yusuf and I are faced with the difficult decision about whether to leave a friend 1,000 km behind in Chicago and meet up with him in Denver in 2 days. Alex insists we leave. We say goodbye to him and board the train. Moments later, Alex comes running down the platform toward the train as the doors are about to close. His ticket was found, with only one literal minute to spare!

I will never eat corn again!

The train from Chicago to Denver is excruciatingly boring at first as we pass through the flat cornfields of Western Illinois and Iowa, which seem to drag on forever without end.  Seven hours of corn is enough to make one want to kill themselves, although watching the sun set over an endless expanse of cornfields is beautiful in a dull sort of way.  Parts of this trip is occupied by long conversations with a Californian theology student en route to Omaha about the cultural/political power of the Christian Right in the USA, which has largely monopolized Christianity here, and the strange absence of a Christian Left in this country.  Meanwhile, Yusuf is doing his best to connect with our American counterparts by declaring his love for American football to everyone within earshot, including the need to launch an NFL franchise on Canadian soil. As we stop at isolated and impoverished communities along the way, I get a sense of how sparsly populated much of the United States truly is, as well as an understanding of why so much of the Midwest is so racist and xenophobic --- isolation and ignorance breed intolerance.  The most visually powerful images of isolation are on the other side of the Illinois border, where lone farm houses and barns --- in one case even a solitary tractor on its own tiny isle--- are seen stranded on small islands of land, land which has been swallowed by the unforgiving waters of the mighty Mississippi. 

The AMTRAK lounge is a place of political debate...

The dining area is filled with folk singing improvised ditties about train rides, politics and the Midwest itself to the accompaniment of a guitar as tourists with cameras gather around in curiosity. There is an elderly African-American mailman from Chicago who, four decades ago, was subjected to a savage beating at the hands of Chicago police after being swept up in the whirlwind of violence at the 1968 DNC.  He hopped on this train with the sole ambition of personally meeting Obama in Denver --- it is a highly unlikely goal but it is one which keeps him going in these twilight years of his life. The lounge of the AMTRAK just hours before arriving in Omaha, at around midnight, is a political event in itself as most people depart, leaving just a handful of delegates, journalists and political buffs to intermingle and speak their minds about what everyone agrees to be a transformative year in US history — the dawn of a new post-racial era in which left and right wing no longer exist and people will no longer be pigeon-holed. One of these individuals is a friendly and likeable delegate from Detroit named Tim (left picture) and another is a young left-wing freelance writer from Ottawa — the first Canadian we meet on our trip. The deep conversations with these 2 men become choppy and frequently cut short as every delay on the train is misinterpreted by the anxious smokers as the glorious Omaha smoke break. However, when it does come, this stop is meant to be more than a smoke break. After the small group of journalists, politicians and general tourists are finished enjoying their smokes along the dark and barren Omaha track, talking politics with me and Yusuf, AMTRAK personnel herd us into the first floor of the train — a luggage storage area. Apparently, worried about threats from anarchists about violently disrupting the dnc, the canine unit was sent to search for bombs on all trains en route to the convention. Tim shakes his head while noting that this is precisely what paranoia can do to people. This is my first experience with police and overreaction. While cramped within the corner near the luggage area, we listen and watch as a construction worker in an orange helmet throws jabs at Obama as he tells jokes to the AMTRAK worker which mock Obama's alleged lack of decisiveness. As the doors close and the train takes off, a humourous convention host with dreadlocks named Thomas (right picture) comments about how he hopes the dogs don't find the drugs he has stashed in his luggage. It is sad that America has become so paranoid, even at this moment of great optimism in its history, but Thomas demonstrates that laughter is always the best medicine.

...and the first floor is a church...

As Tim, Yusuf and the comedian host ascend the stairway, I hear a calling from the darkness from through the other side of the luggage room. An obese and diabetic woman with saddened eyes by the name of Nicole, en route to a Christian rock concert in Denver, is struggling to set up her oxygen tank in a 15-seat room...isolated...alone...in need of company...shut away. I hook up her tank, rush upstairs and return with crackers and granola bars. I introduce myself as John and she responds, "oh, John 3:16." A woman named Rochelle who recently boarded at Omaha joins us as we talk of our lives. She shows me an old ratty note book with the words "John 3:16" written in pencil, traced multiple times and surrounded by a fancy border. As I depart, Rochelle and Nicole both say, "it was nice to meet you, John 3:16." God, is this ever a religious nation!

— Johnathan Buck