Riley Is Not Dead (Yet): Very Brief Update From Occupied Libertyville Park

"We got rained on hard."

Your move, Bob Dylan.

♪♫"And what'll you do now, my blue-eyed son?
And what'll you do now my darling young one?"
I'm a-goin' back out 'fore the rain starts a-fallin'.
I'll walk to the depths of the deepest black forest
Where the people are a many and their hands are all empty
Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters
Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison
Where the executioner's face is always well hidden
Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten
Where black is the color, where none is the number
And I'll tell and think it and speak it and breathe it
And reflect it from the mountain so all souls can see it.
Then I'll stand on the ocean until I start sinkin'
But I'll know my songs well before I start singin'.
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, and it's a hard
It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.♪♬

Lady Noonington wadeth in:
OWS is not in itself important—it is obvious at this point that it's less a political movement than a be-in. It's unfocused, unserious in its aims.
…
A movement that will go nowhere but could do real damage would be "We hate the rich, let's stick it to them." Movements built on hatred are corrosive, and in the end corrode themselves. Ask Robespierre. In any case, the rich would leave. The rich are old, they feel like refugees in the new America anyway.