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The Occupy Camp Shack movement began in earnest last week only hours before the opening of deer season. The protesters, mired in the 90 percent of the population that controls 27 percent of the wealth, indicated it was their intention to stay at deer camp until their many grievances were heard.
We at Camp Shack certainly were sympathetic, also mired in the 90 percent of the population that controls 27 percent of the wealth and getting older by the day on top of it.
With the recent addition of the ample and airy bunkhouse and levitation center there was plenty of room for all.
Bring on the grievances great and small. No better time to contemplate grievances than during deer season when guns are toted about with Second Amendment glee, rum is poured and fairness is once again preferred in our Great Democracy.
Mantras were handed out with every hand warmer and complimentary pair of wool socks.
The Exalted Shack Master ordered the shack witch doctor to bless the bullets of the protesters who joined the hunt and would soon be heading out to their stands deep in the Lake County woods, miles from the nearest hint of civilization or even an educated guess, save for the many interesting labels on the booze bottles which always present terrific reading for a culture in fast decline.
The Shack Marching Band, resplendent in blaze orange uniforms, sashes and cummerbunds hung with panache, would be heading out at daybreak to serenade lonely hunters in their deer stands, a tidy tradition enjoyed by most, but not all, hunters just hoping to see a deer in the quiet forest. The much-celebrated band, 100 instruments strong but always in the hunt for a few more tubas, make their way on foot across as much of hunting country as is possible in 16 days with music blaring and a jaunty rhythm of beer barrel polkas and marches by John Phillip Sousa written before he quit drinking.
Let’s just say his earlier work was the best and most lively.
Just the kind of music for deer season.
The Exalted Shack Master, absolute ruler of the shack but still a real nice guy, then ordered a ceremonial protest song played for the gathered masses. You’ve never heard such a rendition of Jimi Hendrix’s Star Spangled Banner in your life. It brought the camp to tears and really solidified the will and persistence of the protesters.
One of them leaned on the Exalted Shack Master’s broad but not too imposing shoulders and said he was so moved he might stay at the shack forever.
Forever is a pretty long time the Exalted Shack Master explained succinctly.
“Lets just say that as long as you help with the dishes and donate a tenderloin or two you can stay as long as is necessary,” he said.
The protester wiped away a last tear and volunteered to be in the band, preferring music over hunting. The Exalted Shack Master reminded the protester that while most hunters enjoy the visits from the band, a few spoilsports aren’t quite as thrilled to have the entire cavalcade of percussive and wind instrument mayhem milling about the base of their deer stand.
Practice your non-violent means but be ready to get the hell out of there if things turn a bit unruly.
It can happen pretty quick he said.
The one thing the Occupy Camp Shack protesters have had to grasp is one iron rule: there will be no technology allowed that existed before 1971.
No Facebook. No texting. No internet hookup. The camp is low tech, very low tech, though several hunters are shooting a non-lead, all-copper bullet.
Social networking is done socially, a face-to-face conversation or with hand signals. All marches for good causes and to stir up a sit-on-your-hands society are done in person. There is no virtual reality allowed, no confusing twitters, no mix-ups.
They seem to be getting along just fine now that deer season is in full swing. There is no income inequality, no superior airs or condescension. Junk food, except potato chips and those little candy bars left over from Halloween, is outlawed. There is no industrial thinking at this camp, no bankers hours, no hedge funds, no demands to box in a movement with useless terms.
You pull your weight during this ongoing revolution.
Pulling your weight is made easier during gatherings at our Camp Shack Levitation Center. We can’t explain how it works but it does. You’re light on your feet and your attitude is nothing short of rosy. All we know is that if you need a weighty subject off your chest, a quick session at the levitation center does the trick. We also know that levitation has been present in one form or another prior to 1971 so all is well.
Personal bartenders were assigned. Camp chores were meted out. Vegetarians won’t persecute the venison lovers with the fact you don’t have to shoot the broccoli in order to harvest it. Carnivores and omnivores will practice non-violence as much as possible and like it.
The occupation of Camp Shack is underway.