Three weeks into the revolution, there is no common theme.If Fart Smeller guy isn't amusing enough, it appears mental hospitals have released patients to beef up the numbers in Boston.
At the periphery sit well-heeled thrill-seekers who’ve traveled from Virginia Beach, Seattle, Ohio and Portland, Ore.
Others come from Mars.
Like the guy who marched with a sign announcing that he was the “Fart Smeller.’’ Say what?
“It’s not a joke,’’ he said, as serious as open-heart surgery, showing me a photograph of his important work. “I go up to women and ask to smell their ...’’
At the stinky end of the park, I met a smart man, Phillip Belpasso, 64, in a filthy Army-style jacket, who said he’s been in Zuccotti Park “pretty much since the Towers came down.’’ A decade?
“This all happened around me, sort of,’’ he said. “Say, have you figured out what’s going on here yet? I don’t even know if they know what they’re for. ’’
Ian K., who passed as an official -- the word “Security’’ was on the “Hello’’ sticker on his chest -- informed silly me that having a point isn’t really the point.
“There isn’t a coherent message,’’ said Ian, 30. “The fact is that we are individuals. You’d have to ask every single individual and you’d get varying answers.’’
The lack of what Ian called a “uniformity of commonality of message’’ was wearing on Calum McPherson-Smith, 23, who’d taken a bus here from Virginia Beach 10 days earlier.
“I came because I’m hopeful this will grow into something to combat a giant, vast disease affecting our society and socioeconomic system,’’ he said. “We don’t look serious! We look like a bunch of dirty kids hanging out!’’
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