"How did you get in here?" I asked, more annoyed than shocked.
No reply.
"How did you get in here?" I repeated the question, shifting the emphasis. But she didn't say anything. She just kept shaking the paper at me until I took it. Then she hopped out of the toaster and made a lovely running leap onto the windowsill, where she disappeared behind some plants. I haven't seen her since.
When they first appeared as part of the RNC circus, the Falun Gongers were a blast from the distant past. I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen anything about the oppressed group in the press—at least not since China's accession to the WTO. I was grateful for the reminder.
Of course, "remind" doesn't quite do justice to what the Falun Gong activists do. Along with handing out graphic literature, they reenact hardcore brutality for commuter consumption, forcing upon passersby a harsh visual translation of the media cliché "crackdown." The still and studied expressions of fatigue and pain, the fake blood, the prison garb—it's devastatingly effective street theater. In the spectators' minds, the well-scrubbed reformist face of Hu Jintao can't help but transform into a scowling Pol Pot, which is exactly what Falun Gong wants. Their goal is nothing less than the rebranding of China in the media capital of the world.
The more I see of them, the more I wonder, Why isn't organized labor out here doing the same thing? They could pool their Chinese horror stories and expand their reach. And where are the Free Tibet activists? The Chinese government's plan for Tibet is Falun Gong oppression writ large, with a whole culture threatened.
The answer is, it takes huge gongs to stand out on street corners and bear aggressive witness like this, day after day after day. Few non-cult groups can mobilize such sustained dedication from its members. But mobilize it they do. If a Martian were to land and wander Manhattan's streets for an hour, it'd likely conclude that the only issues of concern to humanity were homelessness, Falun Gong and discount mattresses.
There's no denying the campaign has been a success. Say the words "China and Falun Gong" to 10 random people who live or work in Manhattan, and my guess is that seven of them will visualize battered women in five-by-five iron cages before they think of pajama people in Central Park. That's not bad for a few dozen rotating cadres of backpackers from Taiwan and Singapore, most of whom don't speak English. Now if they'd only stay out of my kitchen. o
