ISTANBUL—In what has become the national pastime for many restless citizens, Turkish streets have once again been filled with protestors chanting catchy slogans, waving posters, and honing their advanced tear-gas evasion techniques. The cause this time? Everything and nothing, claim top protest authorities.
“We just felt it was time,” said a veteran demonstrator, taking a brief respite from yelling in unison with a thousand strangers. “It’s been months since we loudly told anyone in power they’re messing up. We were overdue!”
Hordes of sign-wielding participants reportedly gather for hours to perform a series of synchronized crowd maneuvers that put Broadway choreographers to shame. Witnesses say that between the intense chanting and the unstoppable synergy of banging pots and pans, a citywide jam session has kicked off that might top all summer music festivals combined.
Local shops are joining in on the fun too. Eager entrepreneurs are selling special ‘protest-exclusive’ merchandise—heat-resistant scarves, artisanal face masks, and glow-in-the-dark placards. “I’m here for democracy, but I’m also here for the free refreshments,” admitted one cunning protest-goer juggling a bag of chestnuts and a branded water bottle.
Turkish officials, meanwhile, seem to have adopted a unique, hands-off approach: they closely follow the action from a safe distance, occasionally issuing statements that sound suspiciously like mild disclaimers. “We appreciate passionate expressions of democracy,” they reportedly said, “as long as protestors keep the choreographed dancing to a minimum—it’s hurting our pride to see them so well-coordinated.”
At press time, half the country was strategizing how best to continue making noise until someone important concedes something, while the other half hurriedly Googled “Which protest are we protesting again?” Some suspect this may all be a secret annual tradition—because what better way to unite the masses than the inexplicable magic of chanting, drumming, and fervent demands? If Turkish citizens have proven anything in recent years, it’s that few groups can orchestrate a mass gathering with more flair.
Now, as crowds amass in the squares, journalists stand ready, cups of Turkish coffee in hand, bracing for the next wave of chanting that might just break the internet. And the protestors? They’re delighted to have a cause—no matter how nebulous—to rally around. After all, if there’s one unstoppable force in Turkey, it’s the irrepressible desire to come together and remind everyone in power that their constituents have, in fact, run out of chill.