Occupy SF

Out to dinner last night with B, who, inventive as always, wanted to include a visit to Occupy San Francisco before we ate. He arrived before I did and related to me the goings-on in the "general assembly", where protesters were encouraged to use non-sexist language, arranged for Spanish classes and a round of "flyering" in the Mission, and then reflected on the request of a "working group" to start a garden...although they lacked tools, seeds...or soil. There was a tent with a sign that said For Emotional Emergencies. It was empty.

For some unaccountable reason (unaccountable even to himself), B finds the Occupy phenomenon interesting, although supremely unfocussed. For my curmudgeonly rightwing self, I judged the folks down there --all of whom I had seen in the 1960's and 1970's in previous and exact incarnations, clothes, hairstyles, attitudes, nostrums and smells included-- were either a. deluded fools, b. chronic losers or c. worthless trash.

 A Bedouin encampment outside Mecca? Or Occupy SF by the Embarcadero.
Photo by RCI

After B-as-Virgil led me through the Dantean encampment,  he and I had a nice dinner at a local bistro: half-price night for burgers (very nice) and the Niman Ranch Pork Rib Blue Plate Special (excellent), with a coupla glasses of vino and a view of the Bay Bridge. Capitalism may in fact be the worst economic system, except for all the rest.