It’s a bright sunny April afternoon in La Belle Ville, and I’m moseying down historic Prince Arthur Street in search of ice cream. I’m groovin’ to my walkman playing the theme song from Fushigi Yuugi when all of a sudden, I hear, “Hey, Comrade!”
Not being aware that the Bolshevist revolution was in progress, I turn my head. There is this big old guy looking at me with a stupid smirk on his face. “Hey, Comrade! How’s the revolution going?”
Now it may come as a surprise to some, but I Am Not A Revolutionary (IANAR?) However, I deduce that his question refers to my lovely unbleached-cotton reusable environmentally sound tote bag with the logo of the NDP emblazoned on it in cheerful orange.
This fine specimen of humanity - whom, I feel obliged to point out, I have never seen before today - proceeds to vulgarly harangue me for the next five minutes, following me as I continue in quest of frozen dairy products. Words such as “union whore” and “Chairman” and “lame” and whatnot are used.
Finally I find a likely-looking gelateria and step inside, cutting off this gentleman’s diatribe midway through. The incident mildly annoyed me, though. I like my NDP bag, and I’m annoyed at the notion that I might have to give it up in order to avoid street harassment.
…You’re into politics, eh? Let me tell you, I ran for Parliament in the last election as the New Democratic candidate for Verdun St-Henri. I’m serving on my party’s renewal committee and going to the general council in November. I have done committee, community, protest, and direct activism in the causes of students’ rights, the environment, fair trade, GMOs, medicare, political prisoners, democratic reform, and gay and lesbian rights. I have literally gone to the barricades for my political beliefs and have been attacked by the police for them.
Now then, just what exactly do you do with your oh-so-deeply-held convictions? Anything at all, or do you just hang around and harass passers-by?
Thought so. Bite my social-democratic faggot ass, comrade.
