The Real Champion
Is it true the pinnacle of my feeble protest career is getting on the TV news by standing at a podium on the steps of the Utah State Capitol Building and shouting to the world that unless Salt Lake City mended its evil ways, its air pollution would soon outstrip Los Angeles' (a demonstrably-false statement, by the way, given the lower population, higher winds and cooler temperatures)? I must not be trying hard enough!

I've always admired the real champions of protest - the Sixties radicals. But by the time I arrived in college, they had all departed.

Except one fellow. He had decided to become a more-or-less permanent student and was busy getting a second Ph.D.: this time, in nuclear engineering, so he could be an effective advocate against nuclear power. He brushed his teeth and hair with indifference, and you couldn't see his apartment's carpet because it was covered in discarded newspapers, but, unlike anyone around, he did have one shining 60's protest moment: he got his picture on the front page of the Denver Post for leading a vigorous anti-Vietnam-War demonstration at the University of Wyoming! And how did he achieve this minor journalistic miracle? Yes, you guessed it! He controlled the megaphone!

You've got to control the megaphone! It's that simple!
(Perv With A Dog had his eyes pecked out by scrub jays on, Tue 16 Nov 2010, 22:01, Reply)