Strike the Empire Back

When I left the house yesterday, the sky was buzzing with police helicopters. Whenever I see one, I think of the movie "Charlie Wilson's War." I have fantasies of standing on a rooftop with a shoulder-mounted missile launcher and bringing the motherfucker down. Here I am, knocking on the door of middle age, and I can't remember when I last saw the cops as anything but the enemy.
A general strike had been called for 29th March to protest the austerity budget getting rammed through by the conservative government this week. With Spain's economy circling the toilet and Europe being effectively run from Berlin, the country is bracing itself for what promises to be a brutal assault on the welfare state that people here have come to take for granted. The Socialists, reduced to opposition, supported the strike in theory. Thanks a lot, guys. Where were you last May when thousands of us took to the streets demanding the very same changes? Oh yeah. You were in power. I find it disheartening that when the financial crisis hit, revealing the global economic system to be a crooked casino game, instead of sweeping it aside and working on something new, every country in the world doubled down on free markets and rolled the dice again.
It was a surreal scene as I slowly cycled up Pg de Gracia, the city's main artery, lined with all the luxury stores that regularly get shout-outs from Kanye and Jay-Z. (One percent rap?) The street, and may others, had been blocked off to cars as people marched, waved flags and chanted slogans. The Barcelona stock exchange was extensively guarded by a row of paddy wagons. It made me wonder how cops, never the silver spoon types, so willingly become the lapdogs for the rich and  powerful. Is the thrill of carrying a gun really such a draw? Those humble public servants dutifully protected the building from the fate that befell many other (less important?) banks - smashed windows and burning garbage bins. People decry the destruction as counter-productive and they may have a point, but I don't think a couple of bank presidents hanging from the Gaudi-designed street lamps would have been excessive.
There were massive rallies later on. Even strikes happen on Spanish time. Five o'clock is a little late to call a demonstration in my opinion. It's a day of protest, not a late afternoon of protest. Thousands more came out, but I missed those. On Thursday afternoons, I teach private lessons to kids, and it seemed a little weird to strike against the people who are coming out of pocket to further their children's education. I recognize that, on the one hand, it's a rationalization and younger more idealistic me would have done it anyway. Sadly, younger more idealistic me doesn't have much of a say in my life anymore. Maybe he should go on strike.