The spectacle of far-left activism seems to have reached a new level of theatrical absurdity with the latest “No Kings” protest designed to counter-program an innocuous celebration of President Trump’s birthday. As the demonstrators proclaim that the White House is “the people’s house,” a small group gathers in the streets, chanting about ownership of the streets with all the enthusiasm one might expect from a community theater rehearsal gone awry. It’s amusing, really—their insistence on shouting “whose streets?” with the mad fervor of someone who just lost their car keys in a chaotic pile.

This time, the protest isn’t just confined to the streets; it’s splashed across a stage in New York City. Led by Jane Fonda—an actress with a history as colorful as a tie-dye t-shirt at a Woodstock reunion—this “rise up, sing out” concert wants to spread a message that’s not just vocal but also star-studded. Joining her are celebrities like Bette Midler and Patti Smith—luminaries who have made their careers out of, among other things, publicly detesting Trump. The irony of Fonda championing anti-fascism might escape those unfamiliar with her Vietnam War antics, but to many, it’s as perplexing as seeing a vegan at a barbecue cook-off.

Behind the curtains of this grand protest-a-palooza, however, lies a complicated web of funding. An organization called Refuse Fascism, one of the many groups marching under this “No Kings” banner, benefits from the financial embrace of various deep pockets. Among them, to no surprise, is George Soros, the boogeyman whose name often surfaces whenever a protest involves cash and catchy slogans. It’s essentially a who’s who of the nonprofit world, a veritable alphabet soup that boasts a collective war chest of $3 billion. Their mission apparently includes hiring activists to protest King Donald’s figurative coronation, which, if we’re being honest, sounds more lucrative than it does loyal.

Standing amid this financial and ideological tempest is Asra Nomani, a senior editor known for delving into these very matters. She’s at the forefront deciphering this “insurgency,” a term more at home in military briefings than peaceful demonstrations. While the crowd may not be overwhelmingly large—numbering roughly fifty to a hundred at best—Nomani rightly urges people not to dismiss their potential impact. After all, history has shown us that small, vocal groups can punch above their weight, especially when their efforts are buoyed by billionaire benefactors whose vision of the world includes currency as their amplifier of choice.

The concert and other antics, though, seem to point less to a coherent message and more to a penchant for performative protest. The imagery of protestors constructing their own cages for symbolic effect might make an art school professor proud, but to the average American, such gestures only highlight a disconnect from reality. The DIY cages don’t send activists to real jail, nor do they reflect a monarchy’s tyranny. Instead, it’s a vivid demonstration of drama kid antics that, for all their noise, may not conjure the revolutionary spirit needed to drive true change.

So there we have it: a lively assembly of Hollywood’s finest and fanbooks of financial backers rallying against a birthday, ostensibly standing for something profound. Whether this “No Kings” saga will achieve its lofty goals or merely become a quirky footnote in the chronicles of protest history remains to be seen. Until then, the rest of us can sit back, perhaps with popcorn in hand, and watch how this little duet of cash and controversy unfolds on its political stage.