Frankly, I don't know what the hell you're doing, but it sure looks like fun, and if I were 22 and jobless, screwed with $100,000 in college debt, I wanna think I'd be down there, Woodstocking with you, fightin' The Man. So, for whatever it's worth, give the rich ratbastards hell, because they deserve it. No. Let's be honest. We deserve it. All of us made this bed. But the Wall Street ratbastards have skated too many times. Give 'em hell.
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But here's where it gets dicey. Somebody always gets his head cracked. Somebody always pays a big price, far more in their lives than global social change was worth. This doesn't mean you run away. But I don't want it to be you.
So listen: Here is your insurance against a skull-crushing police boot.
Yankee swag.
The NYPD loves the Yankees. Always has. It's part of the cop soul. It's part of NY pride. Yeah, there are Met-lovers, but not enough to matter. It's a Yankee frat, a Yankee-loving paramilitary force.
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We can win this revolution. We are the 69 percent - the Yankee fan! Wear your colors! Change the world! (And support next year's lineup!)
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