I am not a bagpiper

Look, it's Kilt Guy who isn't a kilt guy. Bagpiper who doesn't play bagpipes. The Ceci n'est pas une pipe of humans. And proud member of the 99%.

Walking around in front of the library, most people would think he was crazy. His sweaty face, nearvous step, and loud, soapbox-preacher tone lend him that aura. But he doesn't think so. In fact, he's totally convinced he has a message to take to the world, in any way possible.

“I am not a bagpiper,” he claims, marching in front of the Art Museum. “But I am a member of the 99%!”

The elderly woman, sitting at a stainless steel table in the plaza out front, about ten feet away from the prosletyzing protester, looks at him in some sort of shock. It would seem he's speaking directly to her, as no one else stops to listen, or dares venture onto the plaza.

But it's clear he's shouting to the world around him.

“Question their looks,” he's saying.

Just because you wear jeans and flannel doesn't make you a country bumpkin, or a grunge guitarist. Just because you wear a suit and tie doesn't mean you earn hudreds of thousands of dollars a year. Just because you go to rave parties doesn't mean you don't have a family and a steady job. And just because you carry around bagpipes and wear a kilt, doesn't mean you're a folk musician.