A man dressed as a pregnant woman, wearing a red demon mask and carrying a sign that read "I want a sandwich," spent several hours bemusing and in some cases enraging attendees at Glenn Beck's Tea Party rally in Washington, DC. Jeff Jeton and photographer Dakota Fine of Washington blog Brightest Young Things document the rally-crasher's strange experience. The demon crossdresser's mission is unclear; one assumes he was attempting some kind of abstract, dada-esque statement about the absurdity of the rally. But his bizarre presence provided an interesting Rorschach test for the conservative ralliers who came into contact with him.
Jeton is clear that he sees no nuance in the ralliers, whom he calls "complete idiots" and "stereotypical know-nothing [jerks]." But his reporting of the responses to the sandwich-loving demon paint a somewhat more interesting picture.
When you go dressed up as a 6-foot tall pregnant demon in heels with a sign that reads "I Want a Sandwich", the Tea-Partiers really have no idea what to do. Should they be angry? Should they be amused? What does the sign mean? Why is that demon pregnant? ... Again, it's confusing.
Jeton writes that some observers responded by getting angry at the crossdresser, who was clearly there to mock the event, and who directly contradicted a request that event host Glenn Beck made repeatedly: No signs of any kind. However, some rally attendants were kind and hospitable, handing the strange man what added up to 17 sandwiches.
And we have to say, the sign just baffled folks. And out of that bafflement came a lot of anger. Angry, angry TeaPartiers angry about a man, dressed as an expectant demon, expressing her desire for sandwiches. Seriously, screaming-mad TeaPartiers, damning us to hell (duh? demon!), praying for our souls, getting in our faces, etc. But there were some gentler, kinder TeaPartiers who just wanted a calm discourse. Were we hungry? YES WE WERE! Can we eat meat? YES WE CAN! YES WE CAN! YES WE CAN!
The counter-protester also received two hot dogs, two granola bars, two waters, and a bottle of lemonade.
This article is from the archive of our partner The Wire.
We want to hear what you think about this article. Submit a letter to the editor or write to firstname.lastname@example.org.