The Cause was flailing, and I was desperate to make a comeback. As much as I hate it, I knew I had to do some serious PR. I needed photos that would capture the angst and hopelessness of the moment. I went to an underground film maker friend, who has since passed on to the great void of nothingness, and told him I needed a photographer who could capture my innate sense of self-righteous confusion, my tormented joie de vivre. He looked at me like a jackal going in for the kill, and said, “Scarpati!”.
Looking back at these photos makes me harken back to a simpler time. I remember how frustrating it was for our anti-fascist movement to get any press at all. We could blow up an ROTC building and barely make the front page. And nowadays we’re getting credit for storming the capitol, and not one of us was even there. So, I guess in a way that’s progress. EXISTO
