Buy the t-shirt, get the decoder ring

Biking to work yesterday, I made my way around the entire security perimeter downtown. In the shadow of a couple of tractor trailers parked sideways across Liberty Avenue, I noticed a young protester about to be confronted by what appeared to be building security from some nearby establishment.

"Let me see that shirt. What does that sign say?" I heard as I inched closer, trying to appear nonchalant. The garment in question was printed in simple block letters, "RESIST" or something like that. The sign read simply "9/11 -- INSIDE JOB" in what looked like street number stickers you affix to your mailbox when you move into a new house. He was alone, I stuck around despite my reservations about his subject matter and tactics. Freak loyalty and all that.

"Aw, man!" the security guy said when he read both slogans. A portly fellow wearing an official-looking black printed t-shirt I didn't bother to read, he approached the protester.

"I gotta get a picture," he announced with a guffaw, handing a digital camera to another guard and putting his arm around the young man with the sign.

I do not know what to make of any of this.