A few days ago, the glossy-haired fourth estate of the Occupy Movement, Naomi Wolf, joined other activist/journalists in accusing police, federal law enforcement, and “big banks” of committing “totally integrated corporate-state repression of dissent” over Occupy protesters last year. According to Wolf, Occupy was totally subjected to torturous police crackdowns of their peaceful, non-violent, property-respecting protests, for no reason whatsoever.
Wolf’s description of this “corporate-state repression” is, to be kind, histrionic. She sees herself and other protesters as deeply and dramatically victimized freedom fighters and visualizes Occupy’s many enemies as some sort of highly coordinated giant squid, or maybe a huge fascist octopus. I thought it was more like code enforcement, myself. The main concern of most taxpayers, after all, was the scabies and the defecating in the streets.
Though, I would happily draft the biggest fascist octopus available to silence the round-the-clock drumming circles.
In an editorial in The Guardian, Wolf vividly describes:
a terrifying network of coordinated DHS, FBI, police, regional fusion center, and private-sector activity so completely merged into one another that the monstrous whole is, in fact, one entity: in some cases, bearing a single name, the Domestic Security Alliance Council [try not to scream as punctuation gets tortured]. And it reveals this merged entity to have one centrally planned, locally executed mission. The documents, in short, show the cops and DHS working for and with banks to target, arrest, and politically disable peaceful American citizens.
Elsewhere, just yesterday, police busted yet another peace-loving armed-to-the-teeth political activist. Aaron Greene, reportedly of Harvard University and Kennedy School of Government, had ironically stuffed the Greenwich Village apartment he shares with his very pregnant socialite girlfriend with enough grenade launchers, shotguns, and unstable explosive powder to totally recreate the famous 1970 Weather Underground Greenwich Village Townhouse explosion that killed socialite Diana Oughton and two other Weather Underground terrorists. The three accidentally blew themselves up as they assembled nail bombs that were to be used to kill scores of servicemen and their girlfriends at a dance at Fort Dix later that night (see here and here for other recent bomb-related arrests of “peaceful” Occupy protesters).
The cynical way of describing this confluence of events would go something like this:
Naomi Wolf/Occupy Movement Peaceful: 0 — Police: 1
But, why be cynical? It’s the most magical time of the year. And thanks to a “totally integrated” police response to Aaron Greene and Morgan Gliedman’s little home-made lab, Ms. Gliedman is safe and sound and reportedly giving birth in a hospital as I write this, rather than possibly having what’s left of her fingertips peeled off the remains of a smoldering pile of rubble, which was the fate Diana Oughton met in 1970. Contrary to what Naomi Wolf seems to believe, police possibly saved these two, and a newborn, and who knows who else, today. The explosives they were messing with were not for amateurs: more than one building reportedly had to be evacuated to deal with their venal stupidity.
1970 Greenwich Bomb Factory Explosion
Morgan Gliedman, 2013: New Mommy
Diana Oughton, 1970: Dead
Yeah, I know. The resemblance between these two women is downright creepy. You would think that Ms. Gliedman was trying to look like Diana Oughton. She certainly appears to have been working on turning out like her. Hopefully, she will someday have the decency to thank the cops who risked their lives and their own families’ future holiday memories in order to save her from the stupidity of trying to hatch a baby in a retro hippy bomb factory.
Just Doing My Job, Ma’am
But if I were the police, I wouldn’t hold my breath waiting for an apology. Gratitude for being rescued from their own stupidity has never been a virtue of the radical Left.
Naomi Wolf, for example, is shown at the top of this post being arrested at an Occupy protest last year. By her own description, she apparently believes that the arrest arose merely from her vigorous efforts to educate ignorant police about protesters’ rights by citing a chapter about sidewalk permits from some book she once wrote. I’m just going to say it: no matter how much we all wish we lived in a world where it was illegal for Naomi Wolf to write book chapters, that’s not what really happened. Yet, here is just one portion of the breathless, hair-tousled, cop-loathing Patrick Henry-inspired facebook entry she penned to memorialize her arrest:
The [Occupy] protesters were being told that they needed to leave the sidewalk outside of the Huffington Post event because “Huffington Post had a permit” to control the use of the sidewalk. I have a chapter in Give Me Liberty on NYC permits so I knew that could not be accurate. Sidewalks are public spaces and can’t be leased by private entities. I asked for a copy of the permit . . . Some press reports say that I was arrested because I ignored police warnings to get off the sidewalk or that I was arrested for using a megaphone without a permit. Both of these are untrue. I told the protesters that the NYC permit requirement that states that using a megaphone is illegal. . .
And so on. And so on.
Is anybody else itching to gnaw off their arm to escape this? Remember, the cops have to be there.
In her recent Guardian editorial, Wolf breathlessly tells the whole world that’s watching (or at least the part of it that reads The Guardian) about a nefarious plot by police, the FBI, and “big banks” located in different cities to use actual cellphones to communicate with each other about completely non-violent Occupy protesters who pacifistically announced in writing in advance their intentions to invade banks, destroy property, and physically attack police officers.
Here’s how Wolf describes this mysterious law enforcement plot to talk with each other on the telephone:
It was more sophisticated than we had imagined: new documents show that the violent crackdown on Occupy last fall – so mystifying at the time – was not just coordinated at the level of the FBI, the Department of Homeland Security, and local police. The crackdown, which involved, as you may recall, violent arrests, group disruption, canister missiles to the skulls of protesters, people held in handcuffs so tight they were injured, people held in bondage till they were forced to wet or soil themselves –was coordinated with the big banks themselves.
Mystifying group disruptions? Canister missiles to the skulls? Faceless banks wanting protesters to wet their pants? Bondage?
Now I’m just going to say this: would it be at all possible for modern feminists to at least try get through an essay about ANYTHING WHATSOEVER without mentioning “bondage”? Please.
Also, having spent a very stinky week in August tramping around after Occupy protesters who were trying to shut down the Republican Convention in Tampa by creating pure physical revulsion through the wearing of giant sweaty pink vulva costumes, I think I speak with a frisson of authority when I say that there was absolutely no need for anyone to “coordinate” with “big banks” in order to get that crew to soil themselves.
Anyone who has ever failed to properly clean their pet gerbil’s cage knows exactly what the Occupy encampments in downtown Tampa smelled like, all on their own, with no pressure from Wachovia.
Really, do we have to do this Occupy/Sixties nostalgia thing all over again? Because somebody’s going to get hurt. It was the cops in Tampa who were being pummeled with abuse as they handed out bottled water to masked “anarchists” wandering around looking for trouble while being trailed by their own personal ACLU attorneys and gaggles of argumentative middle-aged women dressed like vaginas.
Yet, Naomi Wolf apparently still feels that when lit.crit. majors with nary a mouse-pelt of common sense between them announce portentously in AdBusters that they are going to arrive by the tens of thousands to smash bank windows and meaningfully blockade Staples stores in order to transform reality itself with their ideas, police and federal agents should just stick their fingers in their ears and let them do it.
Let me try to explain this is language that can be understood: the police have the right to pick up the phone and trade hippy-punch notes with Sgt. Friday out there on the Left Coast. OK?
Speaking of radical chic, it was sort of a Weather Underground thing to mix babies with bomb making, from Bernardine Dohrn and Bill Ayers to Eleanor Raskin and Jeff Jones. Make that Judge Raskin. The future judge and her future labor lobbyist spouse were busted in yet another apartment/bomb factory with baby in tow in 1981.
Robert Redford is about to release a film that actually romanticizes all those toddlers-n-TNT moments. You know, the terrorists will be the good guys.
Remember 1981? Here are just a few of the police officers who didn’t get to go home to their own children around that time because of the murder campaigns against cops waged by the Weather Underground, the Black Panthers, the Black Liberation Army, and others. Always remember that cop-killers are revered by the peace-loving Occupy Movement:
Murdered in Brinks Robbery: Officer Waverly “Chipper” Brown
Murdered in Brinks Robbery: Brinks Security Guard Peter Paige
Murdered in the San Francisco Police Station Bombing: Sgt. Brian V. McDonnell
Murdered during the Assata Shakur escape: Trooper Werner Foerster
It’s only a matter of time — and the sort of self-indulgent cop-hating rhetoric Wolf and many others are spewing — before something ends in tears.