Hate Man's back, after an Alameda County judge accepted a deal Monday in which one trespassing charge was dropped and another suspended.
After a three week court-ordered hiatus from Camp Hate, Hate Man returned to the far South East corner of People's Park, known as Camp Hate, where he has presided more than a decade over a loose band of followers, who spend their days, schmoozing, smoking, boozing, pushing, knuckling--living the good life in People's Park, in the service of hate.
Wikipedia calls the seventy-two year old's philosophy "oppositionality which is centered around treating people kindly even when you're feeling badly." But at the Planet we're calling it a "fuck-you revolution," in which all discourse precedes from a tongue-in cheek "I hate you."
Before his banishment, Hate, as he is known in the park, observed that "the forces of fucked up are overtaking us."
Hate Man returned to the park Tuesday. His followers have not yet re-joined him, but Thursday afternoon he was joined in the camp by his sister, brother-in-law, and a nephew from Montana, who said she visits Hate in Berkeley once or twice each year.
Did he enjoy his "vacation" from a heavy schedule of shoulder-pushing (for cigarettes, favors, and cigarette lighters) and philosophizing? "I wouldn't call it a vacation," Hate said, diplomatically, but he has suggested that he had personal matters to catch up on while taking his own Spring break from his park duties.
Calling myself his neighbor (I live a half-block away), I confessed that the neighborhood had been much cleaner, if duller, in his absence.
My candid comment was right out of the open-honest credo of the sixties encounter movement Hate subscribed to in sixties Manhattan.
Saying he thought Camp Hate was well enough maintained, Hate added, "but I hear you."
Ted Friedman reports for the Planet, just a hop skip, and a jump from People's Park.