the conformity of non-conformity (10 years ago yesterday)

(Photo: Jenna Pope)

The date was Jan. 12, 2013. The location was Bluestockings Bookstore in New York City’s Lower East Side (a venue long since infected with the deadly #woke virus).

The event was a literally overflowing, standing-room-only talk by yours truly. Every square inch of the store was jam-packed with “activists” of all stripes (see photo above; that’s me in the corner).

At some point, I declared: “I’m gonna go out on a limb and take a guess that the world has more than enough corporate lawyers, investment bankers, Wall Street executives, and real estate brokers. If you agree, clap your hands.”

(Much applause)

“That went well so I feel safe playing another hunch,” I continued. “I also say the world could never have enough dreamers, poets, artists, activists, romantics, visionaries, fighters, militants, radicals, and non-conformists. Who agrees with that? Clap your hands!”

(Very, very loud applause)

Buoyed by this response, I decided to “borrow” something from Steve Martin’s old stand-up days. I next asked (loudly): “How many non-conformists do we have here tonight?”

(Everyone’s hand was raised)

“Okay then, I’d like all you rebels to take the non-conformist pledge with me,” I said with a dimply grin. “Are you ready? (cheers) “Raise your left hand and repeat after me.”

With a bookstore full of self-proclaimed leftist radicals quite pleased by the prospect of breaking with tradition by raising their left hand, I quickly commenced the pledge.

“I am a non-conformist.”

(everyone enthusiastically repeated that line)

“I think for myself.”

(everyone enthusiastically repeated that line)

“I do not repeat what other people tell me to say.”

(everyone started to enthusiastically repeat that line before catching on)

I chuckled and warned them that they needed to work on such easy obedience. 

In retrospect: I should’ve left the microphone, bolted out the door, and never looked back.