I can feel the ghost of old Joe Hill watching. His blood, and the blood of every man and women spilt in the pursuit of fairness and justice. It colours how I’ve acted and how i perceive every vote and the bullshit political posturing of phoneys. Their ideas built on silver matchstick foundations.
Ours is not a memorable struggle. There will be no great songs sung about us, no footnotes in the great stories of history. Just a small group out on the edge. A small group pitted against an incredibly stubborn, corrupt, and deceitful foe. For them scorched earth seems the tactic of choice. There may be no company to work for after this is over.
Here we stand at the end of the fifth week. This has lasted far longer than any of us thought. We still stand strong as we are sickened by the elements, heckled and supported by the Victoria public, and thinned by the rationing of food.
Our group, as raggedy as we might now be, shall not be moved. Shall not be intimidated by the idle threats of self proclaimed “authorities;” and raise our fists in defiance of an employer who’s motto is “do as I say, not as I do.”
Brother, can you spare a dime?…
From the line. September 20th, 2009. 16:20