In late 2006, a wave of outrage swept upon an otherwise sleepy town. It appeared to many that an injustice had occurred. A man was told to stop dancing. His name was Bruce Thomas and he often danced to the music played to throngs of people who picnicked on the lawn of a local health food store. On this Fall day, no music was playing but alas, Bruce danced on. Other adults hoola hooped and played guitar. Barefoot children ran wild in the dust that used to be grass, climbing small trees that could not support them. Wine was consumed and dogs barked. Thursdays at Weaver Street Market were a haven for the customers. A time to relax and break free of their hustle and bustle lifestyles, going to and from class, to the Research Triangle Park in their air conditioned cars. Here, they could discuss their children, their children's activities, and their favorite wine. Here, have some of this great cheese. Did you make it to yoga last week?
But as it was soon revealed, all of that had changed. Bruce had been asked to stop dancing on the lawn on that day, the owner citing it was bad decorum. And many of the devoted Weavers, as they were called, came together on discussion forums to discuss what should be done. The injustice! The singling out! What if more people were told they were not allowed to express themselves on the lawn? Didn't the WSM owners care about the community? It just wasn't fair. And many though very busy, haulted their work day, at various points, to write in. Some 400 messages in total, the conversation was heated at times and many points were addressed. It was all very democratic. It was clear to many about what needed to be done: have a dance-in.
The next Thursday, clad in t-shirts with the slogan "Footloose Bruce!" the protesters danced. They expressed. They felt. Because Bruce should have freedom! We all love him! It just wasn't fair.
Meanwhile, one week earlier, less than a mile up the road, there had been a fatal shooting at the Avalon nightclub. It barely created a stir. Why? What did community and freedom really mean to the Bruce Thomas supporters?
To the Bruce Thomas dance in protesters, fuck you. Fuck you and your leisure lifestyles. I pity you for clinging to some vague idea of protest. You humiliate yourselves. The real injustice is right under your nose with your vintage wines and cheese made in far away villages by quaint old men. You don't buy wine from the store you find unjust and then go express yourselves on their lawn! Have you forgotten what "consumer" even means?