I was pretty sure I was in the right place. A door was open. There appeared to be some people talking inside, along with some festive decorations.   After a few minutes, a few cars pulled up to the curb, and a few pedestrians dressed fancy approachethed.

A woman in a magnificent maroon suit approaches with a smile. I know it was maroon, or magenta-ish, because she noted we were wearing the same color. She asked about my sign. I raised my index finger to my lips and pointed at myself. “Silent Protest!” I mouthed, silently. She repeated out loud “silent protest!” and laughed heartily. I don’t know who she was but she was a joy to interact with. Some were not so joyous. The interactions of the next 47 minutes could be the basis for a college paper on human psychology.

The encounters with men who felt the need to take on this buffoonery (me being the buffoon) -- each ramping up their own style of macho in defense of the indefensible (The Davis Vanguard that is) -- became fascinating to witness. And each became a metaphor to help explain the unexplainable (my protest that is).

A slender young man with long curly hair, a serious look, and a suit stood behind the door and photographed me with his camera. Several minutes later he approached and asked why I thought the Vanguard sucked; he went out of his way to let me know he wasn’t recording me. “Silent protest!” I mouthed. I took a picture of him since he had taken several of me, and this seemed to annoy him.  And metaphorically made my point: it’s annoying when those moderating the Vanguard comments are annoyed by the annoying things that others do without realizing they are annoying in their annoyed annoyingness. Enough said.

A older couple approached and the man looked over and read my sign and snarled in retort, “Yeah, you suck buddy!”.   Yeah, he got me with that one :-| . And metaphorically made my point for me: The Vanguard sucks, buddy!

A guy with stern looks and dressed in a Secret-Service-style suit (an SSSS) walked around on the sidewalk, eyeing me.  He asked if I was going to be here all night. I nodded in the negative. He snapped, “Good, because you’re wasting your time!”. Like, trying to be intimidating and downgrading, like. And he, like, metaphorically makes my point for me: in reading the Vanguard we are wasting our time. Even more so nowadays as regurgitation has increased, wack-a-mole ads take up time and deter reader convenience, and with the banning of Alan C. Miller from comments, the D.V. is much less humorous and interesting.

Another guy came out and tried to understand my sign by questioning me with statements. “Why are you saying the Vanguard Sucks Donkey Balls?” (shhhh! Silent Protest). “That’s kind of crass” (I smiled and nodded), “and lowbrow” (I smiled and nodded some more). And that’s another metaphor: if people on the left say crass and lowbrow things about other Vanguard commenters, the statements are often left in, while similar comments that are no-more-crass-or-lowbrow made by non-super-lefties are omitted.

One may remark about the above metaphors: ‘those metaphors really weren’t fully logical nor made much sense’. I fully agree, and in agreeing I note you have made my overall metaphorical point: the opinions in the Vanguard are rarely logical nor make much sense.

A very nice woman in a blue dress came out and offered me food and drink. She then asked me who I was with. I pointed at myself to indicate I was with myself. Who else I would be with?   She then offered for me to come inside. I recognized the technique from nonviolence theory – disarm the opponent with kindness and refocus their attention. I was impressed with the strategy and attempted implementation, but declined the invitation.

Another amused gentlemen came out and began quizzing me and was really cool about it, also trying to gain information on who I was and what my protest was about. “You’re a D.A. aren’t you? That’s it, you must be a D.A. !” he concluded. That made me laugh. Out loud.

My favorite reaction was one of the most subtle. I wish I had it on film, because it was one of those things that was beautiful but difficult to describe. A distinguished black gentlemen approached solo on the sidewalk, dressed to the nines in a well-fitted, classic & classy suit and tie.   He approached slowly, read my sign, and started grinning ear-to-ear.  He softly and slowly began to laugh under his breath, “Heh . . . heh . . . heh . . . heh . . . heeehhhhh”, then turned and doubled back, repeated the smile and laugh, then once again turned to laugh and smile as he walked in the door. I couldn’t tell if he was laughing at me, with me, agreed with the sign, or just found the whole clown-show amusing. Regardless, the man made my night.

Strangely, I never saw David Greenwald. Not that I could really see much through those ridiculous spriralized glasses.

Most of the several dozen people who passed by my dancing protest (getting in some cardio and putting some joy into standing on a sidewalk) seemed to think I was there to mark the event, “Thanks, now I know I’m in the right place”. This was often followed by a look of mild confusion. Probably when they got to the Donkey Balls part of the sign.

One may ask, ‘why donkey balls?’ Answer: because I felt hippo balls were too large.  They are also internally located on the animal.  Who knew?

Most important: What are my demands?

1. A living wage for all current and past Davis Vanguard staff, interns and so-called volunteers, plus back-pay to all such persons retroactive to the start of the Davis Vanguard.
2. Fully unbiased moderation of the comments section – with comments from all political leanings treated equally and published without delay, editing or deletion.
3. An explanation citing the specific Vanguard policy violated whenever a comment is omitted or edited.
4. Stop sucking.

Will my demands be met? What am I, a comedian? Today’s progressive protesters always have ‘demands’, most of which are impossible or ridiculous and will never happen. So I figgered I’d present my own list of ‘demands’. Thank you, Davis Vanguard, for providing the opportunity to make this dream possible.

Also worth asking: do I have any leverage in making these demands?   Is being annoying a form of leverage?

In protesting I in no way mean to disrespect the people being honored. The disrespect is 100% for the Davis Vanguard itself. Those being honored might be doing something good. Back in the day, I might have read up on the event and the persons being honored, as I used to read a lot of the articles in the Davis Vanguard every day. But it’s so annoying to read now with ‘wack-a-mole’ ads and ‘Newsy’, that I only read a few articles a week now, and only for the entertainment value.

So there’s a good strategy:  more ad revenue at the cost of losing readers (except those who really, really want to try, try, try to, y’know, read DG's blog).  So you think I'm annoying?  Try reading the Vanguard and succumb to being annoyed to death by pop-ups and self-playing videos. One can argue that those who really want to read the Vanguard will wack all the moles – but isn’t the point to reach a wider audience?  Maybe not. Whatever the number is, one has to acknowledge that many people won’t and don’t bother anymore.

There was a bit of a lull in people traffic as we got near 6:30pm and the light was beginning to fade, amplifying the purple floodlight on the columns of the old bank building. I started to see a few people trickle back out of the event, apparently those just looking for ‘show face’ cred. A pair of young men who looked vaguely familiar skipped out of the event smiling. One of them pointed at me and proclaimed, “I love your sign!”

And on that high note, my cue to depart. I had promised the faux-Secret-Service agent (FSSA) that I wouldn’t be there all night, and 47 minutes of my life is too much time already to have flushed down the toilet in protest of the Davis Vanguard sucking. 

And I am . . . OUTIE HERE

(All persons described in this piece were real and if you think you recognize yourself it was probably you. Some persons described were composites of multiple real people for the sake of brevity)