Never found a big centralized demonstration tonight; people proceeded toward Madison Square Garden and sort of agglomerated around the many police fortifications engirding the MSG area. Spontaneous sidewalk demonstrations occurred here.



Obviously there wasn't much to see...and so the occasional delegates (or credentialed, delegate-looking people) who popped out of a car and proceeded briskly along the avenue on the police-protected side of the barriers had to assume the entire burden of the crowd's jeers, boos, laughter, and chants of "shame." Would not have wanted to be in those delegates' shoes.



Every path toward the Garden was sealed off for many blocks in every direction...except for one, apparently, which led directly back to that dumb-ass "CNN Diner" from yesterday:



So we watched Shitface through the diner's windows--the sound was being broadcast on the sidewalk. This would have been a great location for a demonstration (right next to the Garden), if everyone else had found it. As it was, the location made for surreal and unsettling convention-watching. All the CNN whores inside the diner scarcely paying attention, and the folks on the sidewalk outside a pretty thin mixture of protestors, convention supporters, and indeterminate onlookers. There was a girl with wild purple hair (wig?) and a punkish outfit right up against the glass watching raptly and waving a little flag (unironically, as I gradually learned) whenever Turdeater said something that pleased her. I developed quite a rapport with this lady:



She was gentle, insane, and cheerful. As I heckled Bush out loud ("Vote Bush! Kill Gays!" etc.) all of my sarcasm was lost on her, and she increasingly wanted to give me high-fives. Even when she recognized my preterite, fallen, Bushless condition, she was still friendly. We managed to both agree that God would sort us--and Bush--out, however He saw fit.