Operation: Secret Mission

Dispatch from Washington

We got to DC on midnight Thursday. Our spot was maybe 2 miles from the Capitol. The next day we brought all our cameras to the Peace march. Which was a melancholic and depressing event. The “left” was here demonstrating, what they were demonstrating couldn’t really be deciphered. Every group of people had their own niche issue that they were championing.

Most of the classic older white women had signs about abortion, the younger mask wearing people had Palestinian Flags.

“Pussy Hats, get your Pussy Hats here.”

The DC natives had all descended to make a quick buck off some cheap shirts and pussy hats.

The most vocal people there were the pastors who screamed about the evils of homosexuality and had a bunch of signs about going to hell. There were a lot of handmaidens there who all seemed rather smug.

“I told you so”

The crowd barely filled the bottom of the Lincoln Memorial. (Which was closed for cleaning) We got some pitchers of beer and morale immediately improved.

I came to D.C as an actor, last minute shoehorned into my friends last minute movie.

My politics haven’t really changed since 2020 when Biden won. I walked around Washington Square Park and felt a keen sense of nothing. Liberals screamed their heads off and I talked to a kid in a tan suit named Andrew Callahan who was shooting his HBO movie. (Which I am in @ 2:47)

The next day we went to the Cap Center to shoot more scenes. It had promised snow but all we got was rain, then hail. There was an amazing 30 minute flurry in the late evening. The snow was heavy and clung to everything. The architecture of DC is epic. And it’s hard not to be there without feeling powerless. At night we walked through the Capitol as Mexican workers put up miles of 10 ft tall black fencing. They seemed unconcerned that we were walking through. When we finally got to the media party it was over and we took the train back home where we got a drink and then went to the Milady Rave.

I had been to a Milady rave before. In a warehouse in East Williamsburg. It was crawling with teens and spilt White Claw, I left immediately. It was insanely hot and wet inside.

I was dmed that I should “pretend to be friends w yarvin” and “it was a hard door” The bar was a block away from where we were. Me and my ragtag crew walked in without anyone even glancing at us. The bar was tasteful. There were lots of people wearing suits and not many women. We immediately went to the bathroom and started doing bumps off a knife. After that I went upstairs and ran into a woman from Instagram that had followed me that day. I don’t remember this conversation at all because I was soon accosted for being a journalist some A*** F***** tried to use his miniscule amount of power to throw me out, somehow I escaped his wrath and walked away.

(If i ever see you again remind me to slap the shit out of you)

I always thought journalism was lame. Low hanging fruit for people that thought things were important. But now here I am writing about something that happened. This would be more interesting if I had been on more drugs. Then it would be Gonzo style AKA based AKA Hunter S. Thompson.

The real realization is that every time I go to a political event I remember politics is for nerds. I remember reading most of Fear and Loathing On the Campaign Trail ‘72. It was boring and I threw it away when I learned the results of the election of ‘72.

Was this an important event? I had just walked in off the street. I knew maybe 10 people by face, 3 or so by name. The election was won this was a victory lap. The only way anything becomes relevant is with time. In 10 years will any of us be remembered? Will Dimes Square ever make something relevant outside of New York City?

I’ve been hearing that it’s just too full, of well, lets call them “low aura individuals” and there hasn’t been enough gate keeping.

It’s hard to gatekeep without a gate.

When the only requirement for entry is walking into a basement in Chinatown you accrue a lot of riff raff.

The crowd was strange, it was like if all the people you have met 100 times at Sov but never remembered their name, all come together and wore suits. The “idea guy” from Dimes Square was there.

“Where’s Crumps bro?”

“Oh it looks bad if he goes to too many right wing events in a row”

“Why are you here?”

“I don’t know”

Fair enough. There were slightly more women upstairs and the only black guy, the dude that’s friends with Drake. The sov owner burst out from the basement with a group and for half a second I thought he was gonna dance, but he just went and talked to the DJ. We spoke for half a second about how I had texted him 3 minutes before asking him if he was in D.C. The vibe of the night was sort of New Years esque, not in the celebration vibe, everyone was poised. But in the way that everyone was looking for the next party, the better, more clouted party. Which was actually just in the basement and was guarded by some sort of dejected woman sitting at the bottom of the stairs. The Remilia team was there and I spoke with nobody for a long he was chill.

Outside the Trump Tesla sat out front, it’s windows open blasting dubstep. I guess the point was to be as fried and obnoxious as possible.

Apparently Grimes was there but I didn’t see her, apparently Red Scare was doing a live pod with her. Those girls left right before I did.

Inside I had been rudely taking unflattering flash photos of strangers. I saw a photographer from NYC and I knew he was at least being paid because he wasn’t shooting film.

The inauguration the next day was great. Long lapses where only the weird music played and old white people walked down a long hallway. There was even a black cowboy. The Trump speech was good.

We’re going to Mars.

We are finally going to do something.

The next day I walked around high on weed. My friend who is 85 btw made them and it’s the only way I ingest weed, mostly because I love him so much and it’s awesome he still makes weed brownies. There were snipers everywhere. We waved at them and pointed at them and took a lot of photos of them and all they did was aim their guns at us. It was freaky but they seemed bored. It was cold as hell and we interviewed people and hid out in the National History Museum. There were a bunch of people dressed up in Dungeons and Dragons ass outfits and we joked that they were all feds. Then we went home and watched a Harvey Keitel double feature “Bad Lieutenant” and “Mean Streets”.