Parades are Free

Muses, the women's parade, was the best street party I've ever been to. You know, up in Boston I never understood the point of parades: just standing there, trying to see shit that is not that awesome anyways. But being on a super tight budget down here has really made me notice that parades have one huge thing going for them: freedom. And rather than be scared by the crowd and worried about being in other people's way, I've felt free to join in the spirit of Carnival: a participatory, freeing state of mind. Americans are so obsessed with safety, which half the time just means comfort: 'I'm not comfortable with that, it must be unsafe...' I wonder where we all got the idea that we're entitled to a roving bubble of comfort. I wonder where we all got the idea that our very presence anywhere public or private entitles us to shut down what we find uncomfortable in that place. I wonder where we all got the idea that we have the right to be safe without having to lift a finger to protect ourselves. I can't tell you how many times someone skeptically eyed me and said, 'If you swing those beads into me, it's gonna be bad news.' And I replied, 'Please just don't walk into the beads!' Because Whatever! Beads cant fucking kill you, they can hardly hurt you; your comfort bubble is fucking disbanded here. This is a parade; this is fun; this is free; you can go home if you need to be comfortable. Seriously dude, lady, drunk parent with tired child: Whatever. It's Fucking Carnival.