I watch a guy walk up to the line of horses. He's wearing sunglasses and a black scarf over his red beard. "This is the Boston Tea Party, you fuckers!" he screams. He sees me jotting down notes and walks over to me. "This is the Boston Tea Party!" he yells again, this time at my notepad. He realizes this is weird. "I'm yelling at your pad like it's a microphone," he observes.

The delegation reaches Seventh Street and Wabasha and stops. A crowd has gathered, including major media. ("Are you NPR?" asks one protester excitedly.) Goodner takes the bullhorn and recites a list of grievances. Civilians are dying in Iraq. The federal government botched the relief effort in New Orleans. There's no "free tuition" for college or "free health care." "Mother Earth is crying in pain, from, uh …" he trails off. The crowd laughs. He mumbles something about alternative energy. "It's windy here!" offers another protester. An onlooker comes up to me. "Shouldn't they be in college?"

Another vanful of riot police pulls up. Meanwhile, a counterprotest is forming. As an Iraq chant begins, one of the anti-rioters yells, "You could have volunteered!" "Or take a bath!" shouts another. A protester raises two middle fingers skyward: "Fuck you, white America!" The two hecklers seem baffled. "You're white," says one.