With a flair for nostalgia that rivals bell bottoms and lava lamps, the Democrats have reintroduced a truly groundbreaking political stunt—the sit-in. That’s right, folks, grab your tie-dye shirts and peace signs because the year 1968 just called, and it wants its protest back. For as long as 12 grueling hours, participants sat down on the Capitol steps in a daring confrontation against the urge to stand up or go anywhere productive. It was an inspiring display of inaction, one sure to resonate with all of the bustling crowds who decided the Trump rally in Michigan was a more exciting Monday night than sitting down.
The sequence of events leading up to this historic sit-in had all the cohesion of a dream that occurs post-midnight snack. The evening’s protest was preceded by an imaginative eight-hour sleep-in, where activists bravely caught their Z’s in beds across the nation. You can’t make this up! From there, they rolled into a defiant eat-in at nearby cafés, flaunting their eggs and butter toast as markers of resistance. This was brunch activism at its finest—minus the mimosas, unfortunately.
The sit-in itself sought to champion all the greatest hits from the progressive playlist: keeping gangsters around for added diversity points, suggesting irreversible changes to children to fit fashionable ideologies, and switching off the lights in the name of Mother Earth, replacing reliable energy with windmills big enough to make Don Quixote salivate. Not to be outdone by brunch or bedtime, the gathering hosted a singalong led by Rev. William J. Barber, whose alignment of faith and politics might require a Venn diagram for full comprehension.
Senator Cory Booker, ever eager to project strength and moral fortitude, took the opportunity to address a crowd that presumably skipped the sit-in to arrive early for those Michigan festivities featuring Trump. Booker’s impassioned acknowledgment of Rev. Barber’s gutsy stance against ancient scripture was met with the same enthusiasm generally reserved for a dental cleaning. He assured all ten attendees that his heterosexuality was as robust as his Canadian love life, all while pitching a moral moment that was neither clear nor particularly relevant.
Meanwhile, as Booker pontificated and the rest continued their riveting sit, elsewhere, reality was taking big swings. President Trump went on a spree—deporting gangsters, lowering prices, tweaking China’s nose, and embarrassing an ABC anchor—all things one could argue affect most Americans more directly than sitting. However, kudos to the sit-in crowd for trying. Their commitment to “change through chair avoidance” will surely be a case study someday. Or not.
