Posthuman Blues

I strolled down to the Memorial Fountain today to meet a friend at Kansas City's big antiwar protest. I never found her, but was swept along the Country Club Plaza by a stew of protesters with upthrust signs and banners, all coolly scrutinized by news cameras. Relentless honking from passing cars accompanied by approving cheers.

Some endearing slogans: "No More Bu$hit," "Drop Bush, Not Bombs," "Eat the Patriarchy."

I swilled a cup of coffee and attempted to read, but the swarm of marchers rendered concentration impossible. Plus, I felt rude by ignoring the demonstration. Someone might think it was deliberate and decide to brain me with a "No Blood for Oil" placard.

So I drifted back into the chanting crowds, brandishing Neal Stephenson's "Crytonomicon" like some subversive piece of anti-war propaganda, fingers growing steadily numb. A news helicopter circled overhead like a metallic gnat, taking in the throngs though darkened windows. Theoretically, at least, I might be on TV.

Bruce Sterling has referred to the Bush regime as a postideological technocracy. But I think the sickness runs deeper. W. appears to lack genuine empathy or reason, like a junkie desperate for a fix and willing to suspend higher brain functions until he gets it. Cheap patriotic sentiment and clever slogans aside, the pending war is sickeningly wrong. But can protest really avert it? Stooping to examine a newspaper vending machine, I was slightly heartened by the sheer numbers of war opponents taking to the streets.

Some useful antiwar sites: www.antiwar.com, www.commondreams.org.