And it made me wonder if most, if not all, of them are just like me - people whose lives won't be that much affected whether Thaksin Shinawatra leaves or stays. I wondered how many of them had Temasek, Ample Rich or CTX on the top of their minds before going to Government House and after leaving it. One man who waved cheerfully to the camera radiated eagerness and determination, but I bet he would be at a pub tonight and probably discussing with friends how far Arsenal could go in the Champions League.

I arrived at Government House shortly after 9am, my first-ever participation in the anti-Thaksin street campaign. After three dozen articles and commentaries - some of them carrots and others sticks - I guessed it was time to see what difference a more direct approach would make. My first "Thaksin Get Out" was a whimper, though. And the embarrassment intensified when the lady friend of a colleague roared those words like a lion.

You have got to forgive my awkwardness. We have been receiving letters lambasting The Nation's "lack of professionalism" in covering this political turmoil. (We humbly accept the criticism, although it doesn't quite dawn on us why society expects journalists to uphold the highest and strictest standards but when it comes to the country's leader it's, "Hey, he's human. Give him a break"). After all, there's a clear line between writing on the front page, "Dear Sir, you have lost your legitimacy. Please leave", and shouting along with thousands of emotional protesters who want him to rot in hell.

My yell improved after a few timid tries. I told myself I was human, too. Also helping me cope with this "guilt" were recent articles of more senior editors. Different tones, different styles, but the same bottom line: Thaksin, you have overstayed your welcome, and there's the door.

I'm writing this as a journalist, but I was at Government House in the morning as a Thai citizen. Conflict of interest? Welcome to Thailand then. At least I don't have to oversee the Revenue Department, the Securities and Exchange Commission, see through a Bt73-billion deal for my company without paying a single baht in tax, and advise government authorities on how to deal with my TV station's request for a hefty reduction of concession fees - all at the same time. If it's all right for a prime minister to be simultaneously in those positions, I guess I'm entitled to a day with what Thaksin calls a "stupid mob".

The people I met at Government House would never torch a building. Many of them would be the first to run if someone shout "Fire!" in a theatre. A lot of them still use AIS mobile phones. When they are hungry, they swarm 7-11. And they will watch UBC when they get back home.

But they will either boycott the upcoming snap election or mark "abstain" in their ballots. What motivates them? What has driven these peaceful people to converge day in and day out and face that "undemocratic" label from the other side? What made them do what many others think is a waste of time and their prime minister deems a "stupid" act?

To them, "democracy" is not just about casting their vote in an election. Several "mobsters" that I talked to insisted that democracy is also about checks and balances, which they think have gone missing under Thaksin. To them, the snap election, under present circumstances, is not a cure, but something that will strengthen the very root cause of the present crisis - Thaksin and his near absolute power.

Most of the protesters will go home and probably watch soap opera or soccer telecasts with friends and families. Very likely they will forget about Thaksin for a while. But one thing was so obvious to me during my brief time with them: none of them had to listen to the speakers detailing the alleged irregularities in the Temasek deal. They already knew what's wrong about it, by heart.

Whether they are called sour losers, rule violators or fools, they will come back. This phenomenon of democracy will come back, to test its own stubbornness against that of a leader who doesn't hold democratic values as dear - but grasps them like they are his last straw.

Tulsathit Taptim

The Nation