The “community activist movement” was also filled with lazy, slothful entitled people who got up at the crack of noon, wandered hung over or still stoned into a warehouse filled with other young idiots to begin their tough day of running the occasional mimeo machine, handing out leaflets, or making a few phone calls. It shocked me how many were trust fund babies. How do I know this? Because I was in charge of them – both in Minneapolis and San Francisco.
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