HOWIE CARR: Poseur protest hits town

Halloween came early to the Common yesterday — check out this photo of a guy on his way to a costume party as a beekeeper, I mean, as an “antifa” member.

I mean, he must be “antifa” because, judging from his spare tire, he’s certainly not “antifat.”

Next time, Comrade, try the salad bar! Who knew antifa was recruiting at Weight Watchers? From Days of Rage to All U Can Eat.

Is it over, finally, this weeklong orgy of virtue signaling, moral preening, selfrighteous posturing and beating of dead horses? All topped off by yesterday’s non-event on the Common was, all over a handful of beta-male losers who, if the Charlottesville pattern repeats itself, will now be fired from their jobs as second-shift pizza deliverymen.

At least Mayor Marty Walsh didn’t try to stop the “rally,” which might have garnered some sympathy for the mama’s boys that nobody ever heard of before, or will ever hear of again.

This was less of a demonstration than it was a play date.

But all the “counterprotesters” like The Beekeeper were desperately trying to convince themselves that they might be in some kind of physical danger on the Common from anything other than tripping over their own Birkenstocks.

It was enough to make you nostalgic for the Hempfests of yore.

You remember Hempfest? It was a big rally on the Common every September, with thousands of suburban hippies demanding the legalization of weed. Be careful what you wish for, Cheech.

Dude, like, what are we going to do now, with no Hempfest? Totally, it was such a blast, taking the train into town, blasted! Uh, you got any weed?

So yesterday, the cool kids Ubered in from Dover and Prides Crossing and Wenham to ... Fight the Power!

Of course, there weren’t any real Nazis, or Klansmen or anybody else. There wasn’t even a billy club-wielding contingent from the BPD’s nowdisbanded Tactical Patrol Force from the ’70s. Hell, the BPD doesn’t even have a mounted unit anymore. In short, for all the peril they were in, the “counterprotesters” might as well have been back at Lincoln-Sudbury High throwing spitballs at the phys-ed teacher.

Of all the obnoxious posturing on social media this week, the worst may have been these trust funded poseurs posting side-byside photos of themselves and the D-Day landings on Omaha Beach — as if their courage in bravely taking the smelly Red Line in from Harvard Square to Park Street to smoke some pot was somehow equivalent to storming Nazi machine-gun nests at Normandy.

I got a text Friday from a guy who said he heard some teenagers in his posh suburban town complaining about the Civil War statue on their Common. They apparently didn’t know that the statue commemorated the Union side. But then, like a lot of the protesters, they probably also thought the Civil War started when the Confederates bombed Pearl Harbor.

I got another text from a guy who said he occasionally likes to spend part of Saturday browsing the great used-bookstore on West Street.

“But no way I’m going near the Common tomorrow,” he said. “Sorry, Brattle.”

This was the biggest act-out by the children since they blocked rush-hour traffic in Milton and Medford last year to protest ... something. Remember how one of those “protesters” turned out to be a squirrelly looking hippie who lived in his parents’ $3-million mansion on the top of Moss Hill. Talk about white privilege ….

Well, yesterday’s pretend protesters have all changed their profile photos on Facebook by now. Today they’ll be busy shopping online for new outfits for the next fashion show, I mean protest. Like, do you think Lululemon sells antifa leggings?

When’s the next party? Hey Beekeeper — what’s the buzz?

Buy Howie’s new book, “Kennedy Babylon” at howiecarrshow.com.