The bayous are a primal place, rich in vegetation and teeming with life. The sunlight filters through huge cypresses to form patches of gold on the brackish water. Crocodiles blink blearily and frogs croak in shrill symphony as I clamber aboard the Rosemary, a houseboat fashioned from wood and fiberglass. The aroma of crawfish fried with potatoes in butter and roast duck wafts from the kitchenette. Roland Carter emerges with a tray clasped firmly between his gloved hands. Cooking remains his second passion. The first, snapping candid pictures of celebrities, went extinct with the celebrities.

First of all, I would like to make myself clear on one account-I was not a paparazzo. That means I did not stand around airports and gyms hoping some B-lister flashed her fleshy thighs at the camera or had a slip up with her sports bra. I was with a reputed company, yeah? Event managers hired us regularly for official photoshoots and. I was a proper knight, and my holy sword was the dazzling Sony A7R IV which serves me to this day.

But yes, sometimes the occasional dough came handy. Times were lean bro. Who was I to complain?

I already knew about the hearing before it actually happened. A source in the Associated Press sent us a tip and come Monday Mark was yammering at me to drop my coverage of the upcoming Marvel movie and haul my ass to Capitol Hill. I had not slept in two days and was sustaining myself on a steady diet of orange juice, coffee and hamburgers. I think I cussed him. But in the end Mark was the man with the money and I was saving up to move to Manhattan, so I simply pulled on my jacket, grabbed my camera and took the tube to Capitol Hill. I kid you not, the moment I stepped out I was lost in a crowd of people from all over America who had gathered here just for the hearing. Fast food stalls sold fries and flipped burgers faster than obese teens could stuff themselves, women with so much makeup they looked inhuman conversed with indie journalists and men in power suits and ties expressed their concerns over corporate interests. There were more. College students, watchdogs, tree-huggers, hippies, closet commies and those who enjoyed chaos in general. It was like a fucking carnival.

I found a spot under a tree and waited there. It was not long before a couple of police cars wailed down the road, escorting a sleek black sedan in their midst. A current passed through the crowd and they surged as one, babbling fit to rouse the dead. The police with typical foresight had erected barriers which stopped them from engulfing the car, but even the batons and loud warnings seemed to have little effect on the crowd. I remember thinking to myself, this here is a marvelous example of people scared their way of life was going to be extinguished by the government.

Morgan Zelinsky got out of the sedan and waved his skinny arms dramatically at us. The people went berserk, reassuring him of their support and hurling vile abuse at White House in the same breath. The line of reporters undulated like the folds of a snake before the cops sent it back. I hardly cared. I already had two shots of Zelinsky in the stupid posture and one of a young blonde girl reaching out to touch him as he passed like he was some new-age messiah. High drama and little substance.

Now all that remained was to record his statement after the session was over. Very few journalists were allowed inside the building, so I bought a burger and sat down chewing on it. Morning turned to noon. Some of the crowd left, others remained. I saw a girl making a placard about free internet or something and I took her snap. Man it was getting hotter every second out there. I had a half a mind to pack up and leave.

But two hours later, Zelinsky shot out of the Capitol like a shotgun blast and a tide of reporters spilled out after him like entrails from a wound. He looked damn angry, like someone had abused his mama on live TV. He beckoned one of the suited assistants who followed him around like a shadow and whispered something in his ear, then raised his arms and began walking towards the curious crowd. Galvanized, they started cheering again.

See, most good cops and photographers have this intuition. We know when something major is about to go down. I left my comfy spot in the shade and moved as close as I could to the semicircle which was forming around Zelinsky. He looked like he was about to burst, red in the face and eyes wide and hot. Here was a man who had formed the largest social media network during his freshman year at Yale and slyly cheated the co-founders out of a fortune that numbered some $430 billion. Governments in almost every country had a working relation with him. Therefore it was only natural that when he took a decision, the earth trembled ever so slightly.

You can find some rough-cut shot with a smartphone quality video on Dailymotion even today if you search hard enough, but I was there and I heard every word that man said. The government of the United States of America, Zelinsky claimed, had decided to place several restrictions on Facebook and also try him next month for apparently overlooking the harmful, graphic content on the platform that had caused the Digital Psycho outbreaks in three continents. It was a ruse, he yelled, to enslave us and muzzle our opinions. The liberal, immigrant-loving, self-loathing Democrats wanted to tamper with our sense of perception and steer us towards a ditch of their own making. We were sheep to them. But he would never let them take away Facebook.

It was at this moment that he knew he had taken a large bite out of the political sandwich of rotten meat and stale veggies. There was an instant uproar and the cops came under dire risk of being swallowed whole and spat out. I was jostled this way and that by people frothing at the mouth as Zelinsky whipped them to a frenzy of stolen rights and muzzled speech. Nothing gets American panties in a twist faster than even a hint of threat to their rights eh?

Zelinsky knew-I saw it in his face-that he had public support. I have no idea what happened to him, whether it was ego boiling over or the necessity to announce something grand and melodramatic, but he climbed onto the roof of his car and shouted the words that would haunt everyone for a long time come.

"From today, hate speech is also free speech! We shall no longer categorize minority groups and causes as forbidden ground no matter how harsh, bellicose or radical their words! All shall have a say in this new world! And the new world, begins right now!"

There was a moment of calm. A brief ugly moment when I could hear each individual heartbeat distinctly. Then someone punched a cop and a baton came down over another man's head. A child shrieked. A woman produced a can of pepper spray and waved it indiscriminately. An unattended poodle barked at me and I shooed it away with a kick. In less than five minutes, the whole of Capitol Hill had erupted in bloody riots. My last view of Zelinsky was the somewhat dazed man being pulled down by his dour bodyguards and shoved inside the sedan. I think I managed to click a hasty one to capture the moment.

The food is delicious. I ask for a second helping and Roland spoons another crawfish on my plate. The infamous declaration by Morgan Zelinsky, founder and CEO of Facebook, changed the political realities of the world drastically and overnight. Designated terrorist groups could now post their content freely on popular social media platforms owned and managed by Facebook. A large target audience was no longer safe from hate speech and rhetoric. It was like putting an official stamp on mass radicalization, the dire consequences of which the world faced in the next few months.