As mentions of “Occupy Wall Street” or “Occupy movement” waned in early 2012, so too have mentions of “income inequality” and, to an even greater extent, “corporate greed.” The trend is true for four leading papers (New York Times, Washington Post, USA Today, Los Angeles Times), news programs on the major networks (ABC, CBS, NBC), cable (MSNBC, CNN, Fox News) and NPR, according to searches of the Nexis news media database. Google Trends data also indicates that from January to March, the phrases “income inequality” and “corporate greed” declined in volume of both news stories and searches.

Knefel notes that tokens of Occupy rhetoric — most notably the idea of a “99 percent” against a “1 percent” — has seeped into everyday cultural parlance. Since Occupy’s inception last fall, references to “the 1 percent” don’t elicit the response, “of what?”; these numbers are now understood far and wide to connote class disparity  – even though many Occupy participants have at times felt the slogan too reductive to signify complicated socio-politico-economic issues. Knefel points out too “the danger, of course, is that ‘the 1 Percent’ simply becomes a buzzword and ceases to have any connection to the way American capitalism produces and reproduces economic and social inequality.”

FAIR’s findings prompt a number of critiques, both of the media’s attention span and of Occupy’s lasting power. It is a troubling state of affairs that in order to push conversations about rampant inequality in the press, it seems there needs to be continuous, headline-grabbing protests, occupations and public manifestations of anger (with newsworthy slogans, of course). But this should perhaps come as no surprise — after all, it was in recognition of our very troubling state of national and international affairs that Occupy participants took to the streets, parks and encampments in the first place.

Occupy supporters may well be saddened by FAIR’s news: that their important messages about corporate greed and class disparity have not permanently shifted the mainstream media’s coverage of these issues. Knefel’s report is at once a reminder of the long slog it takes to really shift a discourse. It’s a reminder too that mainstream media outlets are fickle creatures, ready to move on to the next shiny object with little focus on the issues underpinning stories.

It’s reasonable (although perhaps less so after the mass mobilizations in streets across the country on May 1) to debate Occupy’s current relevance. For me, the problem highlighted here might not be a radical movement’s failure to stay in the headlines, however; the fault is rather with a mainstream political and media machine that ignores economic and social inequality; hence the importance of radical movements. The question then becomes whether assemblages like Occupy should continue to work to hold the attention of such a machine, or work toward challenging its ability to determine political discourse.

Ample ink has already been spilled (outside the mainstream press, that is) about May 1, some praising Occupy’s success in staging events like teach-ins and the permitted solidarity march, which garnered a diversity of support from union and community groups; some point out the obvious — that no May Day actions actually shut down any of America’s vast metropolises; some have decried the property damage carried out by participants in Seattle; Reuters first reported the day as a “dud” and then recanted, noting it “far from a dud.” We could debate forever, using different, incommensurable metrics, as to whether May Day was or was not successful. But when I think about my Tuesday on strike, my memory is of New York City shrouded in an impenetrable blanket of police.

Having reported on, and participated in Occupy actions for seven months, heavy police presence is by no means unusual. Cops routinely flank banks when protests are called outside, they surround squares where Occupy groups gather, and are swift to disperse any attempts (even when legal) to assemble against capitalism in New York’s public spaces. But on Tuesday, I left downtown Manhattan shell-shocked.

It began on Monday night, when the NYPD, aided by the FBI, raided the homes of prominent activists in New York. Following these preemptive, unwarranted visits — during which activists were questioned about May Day plans –  the police presence throughout Manhattan on May 1 was incomparable to anything I’ve seen in my three short years in the city. Friends, whose time in New York and its radical subcultures far predate mine, agreed; they’d never seen anything quite like it.

Notably, the unpermitted “Wildcat March,” called by New York anarchists and anti-authoritarians, was surrounded by hundreds of police before the 300-strong crowd could even leave its rallying point at Sarah D. Roosevelt park. Barely reaching the sidewalk from the park’s steps, a line of cops stormed into the march’s front banner, snatching and grabbing three participants. I joined a running splinter group as the crowd was chaotically dispersed into smaller marches; we then proceeded, almost one cop to every striker, as we made our slow way to regroup at Washington Square Park.

I didn’t head to the Union Square rally to join crowds swelling to over 10,000; I missed the hundreds of guitarists marching alongside Rage Against the Machine’s Tom Morello in a “guitarmy”; I missed musical performances, free food and free lectures from prominent thinkers like Francis Fox Piven and David Graeber. Instead I wandered around Manhattan in shock and awe with a handful of co-strikers, counting as I passed every block: at least four cops per corner. The buzz of a police helicopter overhead continued all day; I couldn’t count the number of police vehicles.

Writing for In These Times, Rebecca Burns points out that the police have changed their tactics since the early days of Occupy. Although on May 1 Oakland police once again deployed tear gas, we did not see the mass arrests or large crowd kettles typical of police responses in previous months. Burns notes: “Unlike the now-familiar Occupy scene of demonstrators being arrested en masse in dramatic, late-night evictions, May Day protesters in many locales were arrested individually throughout the day, in some cases for crossing over onto sidewalks or, according to local media on the scene in Oakland, seemingly at random.” There were only a reported 97 arrests in New York relating to May Day activity.

Snatch-and-grab police tactics intimidate crowds, but do not lead to the sort of dramatic mass arrest scenes that capture national headlines; it’s a more insidious form of crowd control. It is worth adding, however, that there was no shortage of police aggression: At one point I saw firsthand as a marcher was grabbed by police in the Lower East Side, his face slammed to the street. When pulled up and taken away, officers covered his face with his T-shirt so onlookers could not see the blood.

Then, after the mass evening march in New York had finished and no more than a thousand people had moved to the Vietnam Veteran’s Memorial park at Manhattan’s southerly tip, the NYPD once again covered the area. Some remaining hundreds of the May Day participants had gathered for a mass general assembly; others milled around, sharing stories about the day or dancing to the ever-present drumbeats. The police encircled the small concrete park in time to disperse the relaxed crowd at 10 p.m., when the park closes. Clad in riot gear, the number of officers kept growing; hundreds and hundreds on foot and in vans surrounded the memorial park and every office building, street and corner. The NYPD is a standing army of around 35,000, and on the evening of May 1, New York felt like a city under military siege — it was terrifying.

Those of us who have been inspired by Occupy over the past year, those who see the importance of reclaiming and repurposing space (for public use that is not commerce), and who see the necessity of manifesting in the streets, are not fizzling or losing momentum. We are, however, being trampled, pushed, threatened and dispersed at every turn by well-armed, militarized police forces who once again made clear: We are not allowed to assemble on our own terms in this country.

The role of writers, reporters, citizen journalists, streamers and tweeters is a tricky one when it comes to striking. Some of my colleagues and online followers have suggested that I would better serve the general strike efforts (which I am wont to do) by covering the action. They suggest that, firstly, for those truly unable to join street actions, I could provide some sense of inclusion through live coverage, and that, secondly, mainstream journalists will do a horrible job of covering events — and that efforts should be made to counter that.

It is a valid point that those unable to join street activities could feel included through live coverage or tweets; however, my concerns here are far trumped by the fear that those who could otherwise participate “IRL” (in real life) would instead rely on Twitter feeds and liveblogs to feel involved, ignoring perhaps the most important part of the general strike call, “Take the Streets!” I do not want to mediate experiences on May Day — I will not take part as media.

I have also noticed on all too many Occupy actions that the fixation with coverage can detract from safety and group cohesion on the streets. I have numerous times felt that if 90 percent of the people with smartphones held high actually focused on their immediate environments, marches would improve tactically and participants would enjoy a very different experience.

It’s important to note that my striking is not a strike against Salon — I’m not leveraging withdrawal of labor against one employer; rather, hoping to take part in actions that rupture business and politics-as-usual. As I’m on a freelance contract, it’s far easier for me to take the day off than those in more formal work situations. However, as I have written here before, much organizing for May Day has focused around how an underemployed, freelance, precarious and regularly jobless workforce — as is the economic reality — might strike. If this is a precarious workers’ strike — I know which side of the picket line I belong on. And although I come from immense privilege — with degrees from Cambridge and Columbia — my working situation is precarious. I live from paycheck to paycheck with no benefits. Facing broken ribs and a serious knee injury this year, my husband could not go to hospital and feels constant pain — we are uninsured, he’s unemployed, we’re both angry; this is why we strike.

It is perhaps more obvious why I would strike from reporting (for which I’m paid) than live tweeting, which I do for free. Indeed, a number of my writer friends are not producing content for pay on May 1, but plan to tweet in order to spread the word and galvanize support. And no one can deny the important role social media plays as an organizing tool on big days of action. But it’s a dangerous apparatus too — least of all, since a recent judge’s decision upheld the government’s ability to subpoena our Twitter records to use against us in court. But also, it’s worth remembering that through sites like Twitter and Facebook, we constantly provide free, unpaid content that makes a few corporations unimaginable amounts of money. Furthermore, communicating through Twitter is a constant experiment in market testing our online identities: We literally commodify ourselves 140 characters by 140 characters. I’m keen, on May Day, to step away from such a mode of communication.

I raise a lot of big questions here, none of which I pretend to have the answer to. The May Day general strike is an experiment and one I look forward to taking part in wholeheartedly. I find the distinction between observer and participant a problematic one to uphold. A distinction I prefer, although equally imperfect, is one drawn by philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre in his 1938 novel “Nausea” — the distinction between “living” and “recounting.” The protagonist notes, “a man is always a teller of tales, he sees everything that happens to him through them; and he tries to live his own life as if he were telling a story.” Just imagine what Sartre would have made of Twitter and Facebook timelines.

So, by way of existentialist philosophy, I hope I have explained to some extent why striking on May Day means so much to me. In 2009, a series of student strikes and occupations swept the University of California system — they were important precursors to Occupy. I saw an image from one action in which students took over a highway, carrying a large banner that read “We Have Decided Not to Die.” Although cryptic, it resonated as a powerful refusal to succumb to capitalism’s quotidian oppressions. The students took a life-affirming action. Like them, on May Day, I’ll be choosing to live, and not recount.

Eyes will be on New York and the Bay Area when it comes to setting the tone. On the West Coast, a major May Day plan has already changed at the last minute. The plan had been to shut down the Golden Gate Bridge in support of bridge unions, which have been without a contract for a year. The Golden Gate Bridge Labor Coalition renounced its original bridge blockade plans on Saturday, however, asking supporters instead to join its hard picket lines shutting down ferries and buses (the coalition of bridge worker unions will be striking that day). The Port of Oakland Longshoremen have called for a daytime work stoppage and over 4,000 Bay Area nurses also without a contract will be striking, although the majority of May Day activity has been outside of union organizing.

In New York, back-to-back (and overlapping) actions will be taking place across Manhattan and in some outer-borough areas. Numbers in the tens of thousands are expected at a permitted “solidarity march” in the afternoon from Union Square to Wall Street, jointly organized by OWS, the Alliance for Labor Rights, Immigrant Rights, Jobs for All and the May 1st Coalition. Organizers have been keen to stress that different marches and actions carry different levels of risk. Schedules demarcate rallies as permitted or unpermitted, or “green” or “red” (from a color-code for assigning risk dating back to the late ’90s anti-globalization movement) — enabling individuals with, say, precarious immigration statuses, to avoid activities that might put them at risk of deportation.

There will be unpermitted, unpredictable actions a-plenty — including an autonomously organized Wild Cat march, with the “wild cats” consisting of various anarchists, anti-capitalists, anti-authoritarians and their allies, beginning in Manhattan’s Lower East Side. Its call states, “if we wanted to protest we could carry a sign and walk within police barricades, safely cordoned off in a free speech zone. On May 1st, we aren’t working and we aren’t protesting. We are striking.”

Much of the activity will depend less on the strikers themselves than on the police response and crackdown. The Village Voice’s Nick Pinto noted on Twitter Sunday that according to a “well-sourced” colleague, the NYPD assigned to cover May Day demonstrations “have been ordered to bring ‘hats and bats’.” Conveniently, New York will see increased security and police vigilance on May 1, following warnings from the FBI and Department of Homeland Security about potential terror risks on the anniversary of Osama Bin Laden’s death (even though the Al Qaida leader was actually killed on May 2. and Police Commissioner Ray Kelley notes there is no known terror threat to the city). At a Sunday press conference, Mayor Michael Bloomberg said, with regards to policing on May Day, “We will do what we normally do and find the right balance.” So if we are to go by the normal police response to Occupy mobilizations in New York, we can expect vast police presence, mass arrests, aggressive crowd handling, swinging batons and pepper spray at the very least.

In my view, there is little point in predicting in advance what the May Day General Strike will do. As I argued, writing in the most recent n+1 Occupy! Gazette, Occupy’s zeitgeist-shifting events have never gone according to plan. Even setting up camp at Zuccotti Park — the unmiraculous corporate plaza, which became the epicenter of a radical political opening — was a backup plan after the first choice spot in Downtown Manhattan was blocked by police on September 17.  And so I’ll repeat here what I wrote in Occupy!, I don’t know what a success might look like on Tuesday, rather “I hope for a May Day, which— like other Occupy actions have—re-orients how we feel about failure and success altogether.”

The episode features a televised debate between candidates for the city of Pawnee’s council, among them, Leslie Knope and Bobby Newport, the dimwitted son of a local candy tycoon, hilariously portrayed by Paul Rudd. Newport’s character riffs lightly on George W. Bush, the incompetent son of privilege given easy entry into the political arena. He is also Mr. 1 Percent, symbolizing the influence of corporate money in (even local) politics — most notably during Thursday’s episode, he aims to gain leverage over voters with the threat of moving his job-providing candy factory overseas if he loses the election. So the Pawnee council debate reflects the state of national politics, where corporate interests determine policymaking and policymakers. Luckily for Pawnee, there’s Leslie Knope — the too-kind-to-be true politician, who takes a stand against her opponent’s threats.

“Corporations shouldn’t dictate what a city needs; its people should,” she says in her impassioned debate speech, which is counterposed to Bobby Newport’s desire to “run the city like a business.” Leslie promises to fight corporate control of the town she loves — her words would have fit in comfortably in any of Occupy’s former encampments or ongoing mobilizations and propaganda efforts. Indeed, it is perhaps fitting with the Occupy zeitgeist that Leslie has never expressed preference for Republicans or Democrats — for her, they’re politicians all the same — but she is firmly against corporate influence in government.

Without laboring over the point about a show that is largely just a delightful romp of kooky characters, it’s interesting to keep something in mind: This is a show about politics in America — local government making daily decisions. The fulcrum of politics here, however, is not Democrats versus Republicans, but corporate control versus people’s right to shape their own communities.

“Parks and Rec” is  fictional and Leslie is not real — even within the show’s narrative, her kindness and ability to get things done is revered as superhuman. We don’t have Leslies to protect us from the many-headed hydra of corporations and governments (where there is no line between the two), and then to take us out for waffles. In fact, real life Parks and Recreation departments aided in the eviction of Occupy camps across the country. Following Thursday night’s episode, a number of Twitter comments bemoaned the lack of Leslie Knopes in current, real-life government. We could spend decades searching and waiting to find a Leslie to lead us — but that would be absurd; she’s a lovable fiction. But the idea of fighting for self-determination and freedom from corporate interests is very real — it’s a fight, galvanized last year by Occupy actions, that’s been met with mass arrests and aggressive policing — and even NBC’s “Parks and Rec” recognizes that that is politics now.