SoMa Literary Review - Torched Off

Torched Off

By Joshua Citrak

On April 10^th, thousands of protesters in and around the Embarcadero let their frustrations and anger be vociferously heard as they were inexplicably denied their right to scream at the Olympic Torch, marking the elimination of yet another core civil liberty. The Torch, flaunting an elitist behavior and its gross waste of fossil fuels, was to be jogged down the Embarcadero from AT&T Park to Fisherman’s Wharf by a group of racist homophobes celebrating a new era of Chinese world dominance. As the number of politically conscious protesters swelled in anticipation of meeting their foe, Mayor Gavin Newsome held a clandestine powwow with the Secret Service and Hu Jintao’s government to discuss the potential reroute of the Torch Run so as to avoid a probable violent and politically embarrassing clash between S.F.P.D. in charge of protecting the Torch, its bearers and oppressive Maoist ideals and the pro-Tibet demonstrators already en masse. Though as late as one week prior, no one in the developed world gave two shits about the Torch, or the Beastie Boys stance on Tibet , many protesters were galvanized by the importance attacking Americans in blue and white tracksuits.

“People in wheelchairs get it first!” was resonated in firm solidarity.

The Torch, now seen as a phallic affront to justice and peace in the world, was to be met with “non-violent violence” by masses of protesters determined to support the people of Tibet , even though most couldn’t pick the country out on a map. San Francisco ’s own Supervisor Chris Daly, acting with complete spontaneity, led a group of very vocal and decidedly ugly protesters down the center of the Embarcadero, in direct defiance of police orders.

“Listen to me, I’m right!” Daly was heard yelling in the direction of the cops, waving the Tibetan flag above his head. “I’m always right, that’s what I keep telling you people!”

From here, things turned a bit edgy as the protesters shifted their attention from provoking the cops to kick the shit out of them, so they would then be able to claim police brutality, to an unmarked limo-bus that was traveling north on the Embarcadero, which at that point in the morning was still open to vehicular traffic. Thoroughly convinced, despite any evidence at all, it was this bus that was shuttling the Torch bearers to their starting positions, the protesters surrounded the bus in the street and began chanting, “Chinese, Japanese, dirty knees, look at these,” upon which the demonstrators flashed the Filipino bus driver. The pro-Tibetans then began jostling and rocking the bus with the intention of tipping it over. When they found the bus was too difficult to upend, many of the protesters realized, rightly, that it was a plot by the White House to force San Francisco to field extra heavy busses that use more fossil fuels, which in turn creates more greenhouse gasses, which in turn contributes to global warming.

“This is just another in a long line of deceptive, cowardly actions by the Bush administration with the purpose of taking away our rights to free speech and to breathe clean air,” one protester was overheard saying.

Seeing that the normally calm, centered and non-demonstrative San Franciscans were hell bent for hell raising, Mayor Newsome, better known now as Hu Jintao’s ass puppet, made the call to move the Torch Run to Van Ness in the Marina district where, “It would be easier to score with chicks anyway.”

For nearly an hour the protesters along the waterfront were swooning with confusion when the Torch failed to show up on its scheduled route, running up and down city streets and becoming visibly agitated. Theories on the Torch’s whereabouts spread through the throngs of demonstrators, one, relayed to me by a member of Code Pink, held eerie realism,

“It seems that we’ve been duped again,” she began. “The Supreme Court has allowed George Bush to hijack the Torch. Now,” she lamented. “He’s holding it ransom for nearly a trillion Yuan, which will effectively double our trade deficit with China and millions of poor American family’s needs for cheap cell phones, flat screen TV’s, Lego’s and fish balls go unfulfilled while corporations continue stuffing themselves with profits.”

She continued, “The Chinese trade policies haven’t been deterred, but Bush, taking a cue from Iraq, is claiming victory,” she moaned, pointing to the sky and a small plane towing a “Best Deals At Toyota 101” sign in lazy loops across the Embarcadero. “Now, he’s showing off his skills learned in the Arkansas Air National Guard by buzzing the city in a single engine crop duster and simultaneously spraying the entire populace with brown apple moth pheromone.”

When the Torch, made entirely of solid lead, did appear on the other side of the city and the theory proved wrong, it was far too late as hundreds across the county had already begun planning lawsuits after becoming sick from the toxic spray.

As the Olympic Torch skirted the protesters on the Embarcadero, San Francisco Supervisor President Aaron “The Angry Dwarf” Peskin joined with Daly and the San Francisco Chronicle who bemoaned the fact that the demonstrators and police would not engage in bloody, chaotic clashes across the waterfront. “It’s an affront to our liberties as Americans.” he decried.

Supervisor Peskin, Newsome’s most vocal and determined detractor, had been heard complaining earlier in the day at City Hall that Newsome had been “Bogarting the Torch like it was an anorexic, leggy blonde.” Continuing, “All I wanted to do was see it and he kept telling me that ‘You see with your eyes not your hands.’”

However, political feather fluffing aside, there were a few people who counted themselves as losers, simply for wanting to see the Torch go by and “be a part of history.” A long and storied history that began back in 2004 with the summer games in Athens . There, this global running of the torch was reintroduced as a public relations stunt by the notoriously egotistical Greeks to flaunt their historical ownership of the steroid infused Games. However, this was a small consolation to the politically uninterested clones some of whom had traveled as many as five miles to catch a glimpse of the Torch.

As the afternoon waned, both sides claimed success in getting their message out and generally making cross-town traffic one big cluster fuck. There was one caveat echoed unilaterally, the disappointment of not seeing former Mayor Willie Brown, an honorary Torch bearer, get hit with at least one cream pie.

“Had I known he was coming,” one protester wearing a t-shirt depicting the Dali Lama giving the thumbs up sign said, “I would have baked a cake.”

Also by Joshua Citrak on SoMa Literary Review:

Just Because You Drive a Hybrid Doesn’t Mean You Aren’t a Fucking Asshole

Joshua Citrak produces Slouch Magazine, has trouble thinking of synonyms for "trying too hard," and does not live in NOPA.