Actors and Anarchists

Nathan Phillips Square looked more like a battlefield than Toronto’s town center. At one side was a line of police officers in full riot gear. At the other end were enraged anarchists, protesters of the G8 summit.

Chuck arrived at the square by bus. He was a diminutive, bald, overweight middle aged man in khaki pants and neatly pressed blue dress shirt. He approached the crowd of anarchists and raised his fist in protest.

“Frauds,” he shouted. “Pathetic impostors. That’s not anarchy, you fools. I’m an anarchist!” He repeated it over and over again.

A young anarchist stopped him. “Dude, what’re you doing?” he asked.

“I’m protesting. It’s my right as a free citizen. Impostors,” said Chuck.

“You’re an anarchist, right? So why don’t you join us,” said the young anarchist.

“Join you? I’m an anarchist! Don’t use your procrustean tactics on me. I’m an anarchist! I recognize no group,” Chuck shouted to the crowd of anarchists.

The young anarchist clenched his fists. “You call yourself an anarchist? Look at you…”

“At me?” said Chuck. “Look at you with your army boots and ripped jeans and that stupid ‘A’ patch on your jacket. You look like everyone else. It’s your uniform. The uniform of just another bunch of bourgeois stooges. I wear what I want. I don’t conform to your pathetic codes. You’re just a bunch of sheep. Baaa! Baaa!”

The young anarchist looked around as others stopped protesting and stared at Chuck.

“And look at how hard you work to be a non-conformist,” continued Chuck. He looked closely at the young anarchist. “You’re wearing more make-up than my mother. That’s not anarchy. That’s theatre. You’re not anarchists. You’re actors. You know how I know? ‘Cause I’m an anarchist! I don’t bow to any group or organization. I’m free. You, you’re sheep. Baaa! Baaa!”

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Some were angry. Others were confused. Most of the crowd shuffled around uncomfortably. Many quietly left.

Across the square the police quietly watched the protest. One officer leaned to the officer beside him. “Should we hire that guy?” he asked.

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About vanyieck

There is nothing about me that is more interesting than you. I am a man. I have a wife and family. I have a career. I have two dogs. I
This entry was posted in actor, actors, anarchist, anarchy, fiction, flash fiction, humor, humour, short fiction, short story, story, storypraxis and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Actors and Anarchists

  1. Anne Laidlaw says:

    Brilliant! Hilariously insightful. Thank you for a refreshing look on life.

  2. Odos says:

    Were you thinking of Henry Miller’s “Open Letter to Surrealists” with that shirt bit? Awfully clever if you were — wondering what to think if you weren’t… Hmmm. I’m actually pretty curious either way.

    • vanyieck says:

      Actually, I haven’t read Henry Millers “Open Letter to Surrealists”, so I can’t claim any clever connection. Oh, well.

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