There was a video published at this web site right after the last election.
http://www.thebattleforamerica.com/ It consisted of a series of ordinary looking people in ordinary settings speaking various parts of the text below. The last time I checked (12/22) the video wouldn't load. (1/19/05 the video was back online.) I mirrored it here for a while, but the file is huge (34.5 MB) and I didn't have permission to publish it, so I took it down. I may make it available again on a limited basis if there's enough interest.
http://www.timbuk3.com/battle.htmIn the meantime, what these people said is important. Here's the text, as best as I could transcribe it.
I'm reposting it here, now, because of what you said.
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Hello friends, family, comrades, rebels, insurgents, refugees, exiles, ex-patriots, people in hiding, and all the ships at sea...
I debated whether or not I should say this. I wondered if it would do any good. I have profound fears for the future, and deep anger and sadness for my country.
Our country. Our country that's been stolen away from us. Captured by those who traffic in fear, and hatred, and bigotry, and poison.
I feel like we're lost in a forest right now. We're down the rabbit hole and there is no end in sight.
I know you all feel the same sentiments. The rage against the unanswerable abyss, the terror of what lies ahead, the confusion of what this nation has become.
I will not attempt to glide over the monumental disaster that was this election. There is no silver lining. There is no redemption. The illusion of hope in this last year has been mercilessly stripped away.
The monster we face is now unleashed, and free to wreak havoc and spill the blood of innocents.
We are in a dark place. Perhaps the darkest place. Unable to even conceive of the idea of light.
But we have been in such midnight moments before.
We have been in the pits of Viet Nam and the hanging trees of Jim Crowe. We have despaired on the cotton fields of Mississippi and the breadlines of the depression. We've been beaten down by crooked cops, pushed around by factory bosses, terrorized by the Klan and the Fascists and the Nazis. And neonazis, and the fat cats, and robber barons, and the fraud politicians and wicked masters.
But we have never surrendered. We have never weakened or wavered.
Did we surrender at Kent State? Jackson State?
No.
Did we surrender at Selma, Alabama?
No.
Did we surrender at Haymarket?
No.
On the lettuce fields of California, in the textile mills of Massachusettes, in the coal mines of Colorado, in the meat packing plants of Chicago, at the stone wall to rights, at the pro-choice rallies, at the equal rights for women marches, at the anti-war demonstrations, at the strikes and walk-outs, and the bus boycotts?
No.
No.
NO!
Remember, we have history on our side. We have the march of progress, the struggle for what is right and good and pure and free and equal and just and beautiful. We have the raised fist of every fighter. We have the righteous yell of anyone who's been wronged by the system, anywhere, at any time.
We have the power of the powerless.
We have the moral clarity of the dispossessed.
We are the heart and the soul of the struggle of the battle that never ends.
Look to our heroes. We are the inheritors of a proud past populated by giants, heroes, artists, revolutionaries, thinkers, believers in mankind, defenders of the oppressed.
We have the pen of Walt Whitman and Hemingway.
The determination of Cesar Chavez, and Margaret Sanger.
The faith of Martin and Malcom.
The beauty of Billy Holiday and Duke Ellington.
The strength of Roosevelt and Kennedy.
The joy of Mark Twain.
The history of America has been written by us. It does not belong to demagogues, the fear-mongers, the war-profiteers, the rich, the greedy, the theocrats, and the mullahs.
They twist the constitution, but we make it straight.
They wrap themselves in the flag, but we fight for the freedoms, not the fabric.
They shout out their pledges of allegiance but we do the dirty work of democracy.
They claim to represent the real America, but we are the keepers of the tree of Liberty.
It ain't over yet, folks. Not by a long shot.
So cry a few tears. Bang against the walls. Scream into the wind.
Then collect yourself and get back to work.
It's time to punch the clock.
The battle for America has begun.