So will Psalters, a traveling collection of musician/activist/missionaries who are often a band (this summer they played in North Carolina and the Netherlands, among other places), often homeless ("unless you call our bus a home," says Psalter Scott Krueger, stage name Captain Napkins), and often a committed, principled community in Philadelphia.
It's a circus against violence.
Cohen, calling from the road, says, "There's going to be a little of everything. I will be doing some demonstrations" - reportedly involving Oreos - "that point out the size of our military arsenal, to make it easy to understand how our government spends its money and how we can redirect it toward peaceful uses. There'll be videos. There's a juggler. There's a welder." (That welder will "tie an AK-47 into a knot.")
The word Jesus shouldn't freak anyone out, says self-described "secular progressive" Cohen, a longtime activist much at home with the passionate, radical social message of people like Claiborne. So, while Claiborne will "talk about Jesus," Cohen will talk about dollars, war, and the Pentagon. And they will end up at the same goal.
Jesus, Bombs, & Ice Cream rows against a tide in public affairs in which religion and secularism have become polarized. Each side regards the other with suspicion and derision. Yet Cohen and Claiborne, secular exec and longhaired Christian street worker, are good buds. Blown away by Jesus for President, Cohen met Claiborne at the White Dog, "and really got along," in Cohen's words. Soon, Jesus, Bombs was born.
Cohen says, "We said, 'We ought to do something together, because if we're really going to create change in this country, secular progressives need to work together with religious people.' "