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Strikes and boycotts. Preferably serious boycotts, like the 1955 bus boycott in Montgomery.

Marches and stuff stopped working long ago; they're ubiquitous and now they have so little meaning since everybody and their damn brother uses them for everything. They mean nothing and the government figured out how to deal with them anyway. Don't do anything stupid, and it'll just be another note in the paper. Do something stupid (like, ya know, fire hose or sic police dogs on the marchers), and it'll bring serious attention to them and their cause.

Hey, silly wolf boy.
Check this guy out: http://www.principiadiscordia.com/forum/index.php?action=profile;u=1741;sa=showPosts
It's only eight pages of posts. Which really isn't that many, when it comes to PD.

I spent all day yesterday sorting my murrini, and now... somehow... I have  misplaced the whole bag of them. About a pound of murrini. Worse yet, I can't finish today's project until I find them. 

What's a murrini?

What is murrini?

There are many different ways that murrini is spelled: Murrini, Murrina, Murrhine, murrine. Regardless of how it is spelled Murrini, Murrine, Murrhine, murrine, is a cane made by "layering up" hot bits of colored glass, or by fusing together preformed components which are melted in such a way that the various colors join together to create patterns and pictures that are then pulled (like taffy to make the cane smaller in diameter). The end result is an image within the cross section of the glass cane. When the patterned cane is cooled it is cut into slices.

http://www.murrini.com/art.htm

I hope you found them, Nigel.

I think he meant it as a joke...I hope so, anyway. People from Indiana, especially those near South Bend, should avoid humor.

Whhhy?

Inhaling various conflagration fumes SUCKS is why!

It's probably too late.

  Nevertheless.

I actually kind of want to go to that gem show at some point.

You can't make LSD from morning glories, iirc. They are mildly hallucinogenic, though.

1. I live in NW Indiana, near South Bend.

Everything NEAR South Bend is nothing but snake-handling religious faptards.  I'd feel bad for you, but...

THIS. My grandparents are from there. Good god, they're crazy but the relatives in SB proper are even worse.



Also, welcome various new people. If you aren't Pop Tart, anyway.

Whhhy?

 

Good lord, man. What a childhood.

This woman needs to be punched in the neck. Repeatedly.

That ending, man. That was something else. I like it, though. I look forward to the other ones.

Probably doesn't mean all that much, but I'd be sad to see you go.

I suspect that she thinks she's different from others when she spouts the same shit about the cultural center, homosexuality, etc. just because she's a pah-gun.