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Exclusive! Get ready for some truth that's gonna shock your panties off: Secret Service guys might try to violate your civil rights. I know. I didn't think it was possible either, that the very men whose duty it is


to protect our fearless leader and the American freedom we hold so dear could get bored enough to yell at small redheads taking pictures of walls. If you're ready to leave your innocence behind, read my shocking tale of…

The Time My Civil Right to Take Boring and Awful Pictures of Sweaty Republicans Was Taken Away From Me For a Few Minutes!

The afternoon started off so innocent. I was peacefully getting shots of people standing around, my imaginary press pass dangling non-existantly

Click to Visit the RNC Archive.

from my neck, looking for anything that might resemble excitement. While trying to figure out how to get a giant security gate to look superimposed on a tacky, Madison Square Garden-sized poster of the Statue of Liberty (that's fucking art, dude), a guy in a bright orange vest with "Secret Service" written on it (shh, it's a secret) starts yelling.

He wants to know what I'm taking pictures of. My response is "huh?" Clearly, I'm one of those anarchists he's read about in the <EM>Post.</EM> Not about to be taken for a ride, Officer Some Guy grabs my digital camera and starts jabbing at the buttons. "Does this viewfinder work?" he asks, pointing at the photo display.


"Show me the pictures you took!" Gallant. Commanding. Willing to risk his life for his duty, not even flinching in the face of my 63 inches of pure menace. I fiddle with my camera, noticing that he has managed to turn on the auto-timer and select a panoramic view.

"Is this legal?"

"It is when the safety of Secret Service-protected people is at stake." (Ahem.) Looking around, I see what he means. We are a block and a half away from the Garden, surrounded by gates and people with guns and absolutely nothing remarkable except for Secret Service guys announcing to passers-by that this is where high security people will pass through. In the face of reason, I relent, showing him this national-security-endangering picture of:

The back part of CNN's tour bus, sort of. He is unfazed. Then I reveal:

This shocking photo of some guy getting his car towed. "This is a picture of a guy getting his car towed," I say, helpfully.

"This one is of people standing around. It would've been better if I was taller, I think."

"I thought maybe this one would like sort of like Abbey Road, only it didn't"

"And did you know that Burger King takes credit cards? I thought that was funny. Who would need to pay with a credit card at Burger King?"

Suddenly, hassling me became more boring than standing around. "So you didn't take any pictures here?" he asked. I explained that he had yelled at me before I had a chance to. Confident that he had averted an impeding terrorist attack, he sent me on my way with a warning not to take pictures of entrance and exit points if I didn't want my camera confiscated. Apparently the Secret Service doesn't yet have the technology to just erase the offending photos.

And that, my friends, is what it sounds like when doves cry.


Audrey Ference means no harm, she swears.