Below you see what is known as an angry activist dyke. Were it not for dykes of this caliber, the Dyke March would have collapsed like a Rush Limbaugh erection years ago. Wherever an angry activist dyke goes, a ripple of wind inevitably accompanies her. It rushes through her hair, giving the general impression of Stevie Nicks singing "Gold-Dust Woman." All she needs to match Stevie is a feather boa, tasseled microphone stand, Lindsay Buckingham and Mick Fleetwood exchanging angry glares in the background, and an eight ball of coke for her efforts. Yet, the angry activist dyke will reject all of the above--including the trappings of fame--as she is too busy orchestrating what is known as a "Cause." Indeed, angry activist dykes are stuck in a permanent wind tunnel (certainly a part of their appeal), so that hair blowing across her crown is no mistake. Angry activist dykes can be found en masse in academia at places like, but not limited to: Vassar, Barnard, Smith, Mount Holyoke, Bryn Mawr, Wellesley, and Radcliffe ("Seven Sisters" schools all), Yale (home of Jodie Foster and Sara Gilbert), Oberlin, Sarah Lawrence, Eugene Lang (a stones throw from Stonewall), NYU, Stanford, Lock Haven University (home to a gym teacher cloning machine), and SUNY Purchase.
As more angry activist dykes take to the streets the stroller moms retreat to their lairs and hide their children in fear of that notorious queer contagion. The maternal instinct to quarantine their children from gayness overrides common sense. Better safe than sorry! Everyone knows that gayness--like blackness--can dangerously rub off onto another person's skin with a mere brushing of clothing fabrics. Consequently, close proximity to a queer rally should be avoided at all costs. You would be better off drinking bleach and injecting one gallon of bird flu infested, pureed feces into your bloodstream.
Below you will note the banner brandishing dykes and several hangers-on. The hangers-on like to find a banner to stick near, that way, it appears they have a "Cause" (other than hooking up). This particular Cause, the Gay Liberation Network's (GLN) protest about the ex-gay fraud, was on June 27 (a few days after the Dyke March). The GLN is an organization that responds to hate crimes. They meet at 7 PM on the first Wednesday of each month at Gerber Hart Library, 1127 W. Granville. I love the Gerber Hart library; they have great book sales! I digress! So far, the GLN has two upcoming events slated on their calendar. They update their website regularly, so check it out if you're interested. For now:
* Wednesday, July 5 -- Monthly Gay Liberation Network general meeting. All who want to work for Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender freedom are welcome! 7 PM at the Gerber Hart Library, 1127 W. Granville (just west of the "Granville" Red Line el station). GLN meets here at 7 PM on the first Wednesday of each month.
* Sunday, July 9 -- Protest against violent suppression of Gay Pride in Moscow by religious fanatics. Call 773-878-3697 if you want to join the protest.
That's right, the GLN likes to throw down and protest. None of this Limber Lips Lucy bullshit. If you have a bur up your ass, and a bone to pick with The Man, take that piss and venom and get your protest on! I love a good protest or boycott. Just thinking about it makes me salty as a sailor.
As the GLN banner makes its way through the crowd, you will notice the bullish cop maintaining a stance referred to as "I see London, I see France." This is an authoritative position frequently assumed by those in power. Typically, this stance is accompanied with the hands-on-hips combination posture. This stance says, "That's right, I've got one leg in London, and one leg in France; Je vous aurais bien aide, mais je ne vous aime pas." It also says, "I'm packing." Now, "packing" can mean several things. It can be a noun, verb, or adjective. Political leaders, CEOs, cops, film students, corporations, pool sharks, gang bangers, pimps, professional athletes, Pac-Man, pregnant women, entertainers, Dr. Laura and Dr. Laura's doppelganger, and dykes in drag are all fond of "packing." In the case of a drug dealer, gang banger, or cop, "packing" usually prefaces the word "heat." Combining those terms creates the phrase "packing heat;" an intimidating notion indeed. For me, the term "packing" usually applies to lunch.
Below, you will note the same cop from above demonstrating what is known as a single player round-robin tournament of "pocket-pool." That might sound paradoxical, but he's packing so we won't argue. Most people play billiards in a bar, but this cop has the good fortune of working his beat and banging around the balls in public. When cops play pocket-pool, no one cares. Clearly, this cop is thinking, "Good Gawd, I hope I don't see my daughter here--if so she'll catch me playing pocket pool." Of course, that's all it means if you catch your daughter at the Dyke March...
This cop is modeling a wonderful bullet-proof vest in the event that the angry activist dykes become violent, and seek a flesh sacrifice. The vest should keep the carnage down to a minimum.
Below you will note a cute dachshund, informally known as a "wiener dog." The sticker attached to the dog's ass reads, "I Y My Clit." I bet this wiener dog enjoys the Dyke Diva's website almost as much as I do...
Here we see some dykes with what appears to be pink duct tape attached to their nipples. I wish I would have thought of that, instead, I haven't done laundry and I'm rawking a sports bra on week 103. That's right, as several friends have indicated, this sports bra is cramping my style. 
The sign below reads, "We May Not Go Down in History, but We Will Go Down on Your Sister." That was my favorite sign at the Dyke March. It wins Protest Poster of the Day (PPOD, pronounced "pea pod") in my book. Other memorable signs include, "Lezzy 4 Prezzy," and the more sobering, "Homophobic Health Care Policies Breed Homophobia." PPOD runner-ups, all. Actually, a lezzy 4 prezzy might not be a bad experiment, all things considered... 
Below you see a smiling dyke. Why is she smiling? Because she Y's her clit. You too would smile... 
In the below photograph you will notice a group of dykes; a random sample of the crowd, if you will. They might seem harmless on the surface, but covertly they personify the words Valerie Solanas penned in her opening lines of the SCUM Manifesto:
"Life in this society being, at best, an utter bore and no aspect of society being at all relevant to women, there remains to civic-minded, responsible, thrill-seeking females only to overthrow the government, eliminate the money system, institute complete automation, and destroy the male sex."
"The male sex," or, as bell hooks would phrase it, the "white supremacist capitalist patriarchy," should cringe in fear of the poisonous contagions witnessed below! If you observe the Andersonville Dyke March as a microcosm of the macrocosmic ill-effects lesbians have on society--as evidenced in the stealth, organization, financial backing, and aggression of the Dyke March--the world better watch out! Today Clark Street, tomorrow the Universe! Where is your god now, Dr. Laura, you rape machine!
Enough angst, it's time for another peaceful sign. Ahhh...the Pomegranate Radical Health Collective, just what the doctor ordered. Incase you are wondering why anyone would care a rats-ass about a pomegranate, check out these facts...
Pomegranates in Literature:
* When Hades kidnapped Persephone and dragged her down to the Underworld, her mother, Demeter, (goddess of the Harvest), went into mourning and all things green stopped growing on the Earth. Zeus couldn't let the Earth to die--because then what would he bicker with the other Olympians over--so he told Hades to return Persephone to her mother. But get this bummer: the Fates decreed that anyone who consumed food or drink in the Underworld would be forced to spend eternity there. Persephone had no food, but Hades tricked her into eating six pomegranate seeds while she was still his prisoner. Consequently, she was condemned to spend six months in the Underworld every year. During those six months, when Hades is cramping Persephone's style down in the black abyss, her mother Demeter mourns and denies the earth fertility. This became an ancient Greek explanation for the seasons.
* In the sixth century BC, Polykleitos took ivory and gold to sculpt Hera in her temple. He depicted her with a scepter in one hand and a pomegranate in the other.
* Hera wears, not a wreath, tiara, or diadem, but clearly the calyx of a pomegranate. This is her crown.
* "About the pomegranate I must say nothing," ventured the traveler Pausanias in the second century AD, "for its story is something of a mystery."
Pomegranate Trivia:
* Ancient Egyptians were often buried with pomegranates.
* Ancient Babylonians believed chewing pomegranate seeds before battle made them invincible.
* Pomegranates have a calyx shaped like a crown. In Jewish tradition it was seen as the original "design" for the proper crown.
* Unless you wash spilled pomegranate juice with bleach, it stains your clothes permanently.
* Grenada, an island off the coast of South America, was named after the Spanish / French word for 'pomegranate'.
* The pomegranate gave its name to the hand grenade--from its shape and size (and the resemblance of a pomegranate's seeds to a grenade's fragments), and to the garnet from its color.
* The pomegranate was the emblem of the Roman Emperor, Maximilian I. (In my opinion, this guy's got nothing on Nero or Caligula.)
Another good sign...
More dykes at Clark and Berwyn. 
Below. A skater dyke. The worst kind! Note the studded belt and hair wet with Bed Head. These dykes threaten the very fabric of society. Her extended hand is a metaphorical beckoning towards America's youth. Parents. Heed this dark omen. Should your daughter travel down this path, I recommend a forced viewing of Hell House, and nothing short of queer bootcamp! (Alternately, a slumber party debut of But I'm a Cheerleader will suffice.)
What's she rawkin? 8-Inch Betsy. Gossip. Sleater-Kinney. Le Tigre. The Casual Dots. Melt Banana. What's she reading? Nightwood by Djuna Barnes, Sula by Toni Morrison, or Rubyfruit Jungle by Rita Mae Brown. Who's she hawkin? Your Mom.
As you will note in the picture below, there's something especially hot about a woman on a bike. For a general commentary, think about Bicycles and Film: The Bicycle Thief, Beijing Bicycle (Shiqi sui de dan che), Un Affaire D'Hommes, The Day I Became a Woman, The Tall Blonde Man With One Black Shoe, Henry and June, Middle of the World, Time Chasers, The Triplets of Belleville, E.T. The Extraterrestrial, Life is Beautiful, and Pee Wee's Big Adventure.
Bikes are so European--perhaps that's what it is? This I have a problem with, as I often confuse hot European women for dykes. As a preventative measure, I came up with a checklist to ensure that I keep this faux pas down to a minimum. You too can refer to my European or Dyke? checklist when in doubt:
SMOKING CIGARETTES?
Just consider some of these iconic cigarette wielding ladies; some straight others questionable, all hot: Bette Davis, Marlene Dietrich, and Audrey Hepburn to name a few. As a general rule of thumb the World Health Organization estimates that 22% of smokers in America are women; 26% of European smokers are women--so if she's smoking she could be a European tourist. If you are in Europe she's probably European...
SMOKING CHECKLIST: (or not)
* Take note, are they filtered, hand-rolled, or nonfiltered? Hand-rolled; good chance she's European. As a general rule of thumb, if they are filtered she's probably not European.
* How many in a row does she smoke? Three or more in a chain? Probably European.
* If her smoking is accompanied with an accent, definitely European. Conversely, there is a slim chance you have encountered a theatre student doing "homework." If so, calmly walk away from the scene of the crime.
* What brand are the cigarettes? Parliaments; a hipster from the U.S.(don't deny that "hipster" link your love, asshole). Shermans; A word of caution, you may have encountered the Escape Goat on payday, if not, this brand presents a basic either / or scenario: Either European Or an American hipster with a trust fund--an accent test is in order. Cloves; Art student with an STD (possibly bisexual) or a teenager with a death wish who probably looks old enough to make a pass at (thanks to smoking since she was an embryo), but isn't; nationality--Indifferent. Menthol; doesn't matter, menthol is universally wretched--avoid her like a hole in the head--it's likely she's frigid or really, really boring. There is a bleached-out skeleton in her closet, and it's probably wearing Lacroix. Kissing her is like licking the remnants at the bottom of a crematorium. Hookah; Is she sitting on a mushroom? Have you fallen down a rabbit's hole?
TATTOOS?
* Ask yourself this simple question: Are the tattoos presented in combination with numerous body piercings, circa 1990? If so, you're dealing with a pissed off all-American dyke. Proceed with caution. This one probably reads Sandman and owns an assortment of interchangeable strap-on dildo attachments.
HOT TATTOOS:
* John G. Raped and Murdered My Wife...Find Him and Kill Him
* Winona Forever
* With the exception of a conch shell, a koi fish, or Neptune being pulled by a chariot of giant seahorses, anything nautically themed (especially if it suggests mutiny on the high seas) is admirable. For instance: an anchor, a pirate, the Nautilus with Captain Nemo at the helm, a Jolly Roger, a Kraken, an albatross, Nessie, or the phrase Call me Ishmael, all suffice.
* 867-5309
* Max, from Where the Wild Things Are
* A replica of Picasso's Garcon a la Pipe (recently bumped to second on the most expensive painting list after the sale of Klimt's Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer for $135,000,000)
* Fuck Superman's emblem! Who do you think you are--Shaq?! Forget it. The Green Lantern's ring is the thing! The only thing that could stop the Green Lantern was the color yellow--No Shit! The color yellow. When I was a kid I was a card-carrying member of the Green Lantern Corps. The Green Lantern even has an oath he mutters when he charges his ring:
In brightest day, in darkest night
No evil shall escape my sight
Let those who worship evil's might
Beware my power, Green Lantern's light!
NOT-SO-HOT TATTOOS:
* Designs involving celtic knots, chinese characters, or tribal tattoos
* Zodiac Signs
* Elmer Fudd on your ass
* Portraits of people...I don't care if it's your dead homey. Resist the urge. Tattoo portraits just don't work. (Unless Kat Von D of Miami Ink fame does the job. Even so, you better make it a Virgin Mary--which she especially excels at.)
* A tombstone with the birth and death dates of your dead homey (see above)
* Anything with Old English lettering--unless of course you are a gang banger with a razor tucked beneath your tongue
* Skulls and barbed wire in combination or barbed wire / razor wire wrapped around an appendage
HAIR? (Clearly, my hair style is the "Laurel Canyon" as referenced in this link.)
* Short hair? An absolute coin toss
* Rat tail? Lesbian (no straight European would scandalize their scalp with such a move)
* No hair? Gender Fucker or Joan Jett
* Unibrow? Look for a signature, you may have unearthed a lost Frida Kahlo masterpiece
GLASSES?
* I only make passes at girls who wear glasses.
ACCESSORIES?
* Birkenstocks--lesbian
* black leather jacket--lesbian
* boxer shorts--lesbian
* trucker wallet with a chain--lesbian
* skateboard--lesbian
* flannel without irony--lesbian
* backpack--lesbian (Or a European tourist who has lesbians to thank for popularizing the general use of the backpack as an urban containment device.)
As the procession snakes towards the pumpkin patch along the beach, Dyke March 2006 nears a close...
Below we see a good Samaritan dyke in her natural habitat. She is supplying a thirst-weary dog with drink. Watch out dog, that might just be the date rape drug.
In the wake of the Dyke March we see the grisly aftermath of debauchery: A barren street. Revelers in drag. Decapitated bodies. A freak on a unicycle.
And finally, the perfect cap to this post, an erect barber's pole...
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