ISLAM ABUSES WOMEN,

or so proclaimed a new character outside Dwinelle on Monday, holding above him a sign twice his size. As he pondered his heavenly reward (Jesus, after all, taught always to offend and to love others only as a last resort), an angry crowd gathered to read and absorb its wisdom:

ISLAM:

Pedophilia: check!

Polygamy: check!

Wife Beating: check!

“Islam advocates the abuse of women,” the man quietly repeated, savoring the far-more humanitarian thought of the opposing crowd burning in hell. Not to be outdone, they began to chant: “Racist go home! Racist go home!”- affirming their correctness through repetition, and most importantly, use of the term “racist.” The obvious misapplication of the word, in the considered opinion of many present, lent the argument a certain extra poignancy. Someone in the crowd produced a Bible. Someone else produced a lighter.

Ten minutes and twenty-seven “CRUSADES!!!” references later, I began to realize- and I suspect not uniquely- that I was, without question, the most intelligent, reasonable, and virtuous human being in the crowd.

“Take your hate somewhere else, you F*#KING MAN PIG!” the girl next to me (incidentally, a hate-free individual) screamed above the din of the rapidly-expanding crowd.

I may have received a “Just Drop Out Now” on my last midterm, but at least I didn’t say that.

Protests, it strikes me, are not the essence of Berkeley- they are its therapy. Only after months of immersion in this environment of pure and crushing personal failure can we fully appreciate how deeply and perfectly good it feels to catch our peers in the act of being so wrong. Sproul Plaza affords every one of us a unique daily opportunity to be reminded of how brilliant we truly are- if only by nature of not spending more time there. Of course, for those of us with extra-large martyr complexes (and size zero mathematics skills), participation can only serve as a greater distraction from our GPAs. Our protests don’t have a prayer of changing anyone’s mind, let alone the world. But we need them. Tree-sitting might sound stupid- but only if you’ve never sat through Econ 100A.

At some point in this particular protest, some loser pulled out a Qu’ran and began to translate. The rapid influx of information, naturally, terminated our exercise in Free Speech, and the crowd dispersed.

It would be difficult to find an example of a recent protest half as concerned with informational accuracy as it has been with endowing its participants with freedom-fighter status.

But being wrong, as it happens, is our constitutional right.