Okay, let’s get right to it, what you want to know: Why are we here? At Steve’s house, occupying it, the den at least, and part of his driveway. Short answer: Lots of reasons.

Shorter answer: Steve.

We can’t take it anymore. And by “it” I mean him. We’re fed up, we’re angry, and we want the world to know it, we want Steve to know it, which I think it’s safe to say he does since we’ve been in occupying his den, and part of his driveway, since Labor Day.

And believe you me he knows it. His big flat screen is in the den. I know he’s got a little one in his bedroom, but no DVR up there. He’s getting the message. What he’s not getting is the chance to record his favorite shows and watch them when he wants. And he should get used to that, because we’re not going anywhere, and neither are our brothers and sisters out in driveway. We’re one voice. (For the most part, at least. Some of the driveway people also have a problem with Steve’s sister, Shari. I’ve never minded Shari so much. Her hair is weird. Some people have weird hair. )

Why are we so mad at Steve? When some media stooge asks that the only way I can even respond is by asking them a question (zing!) And that is: Uh, how ignorant are you? On an ignorance scale of 1 to 10 with 1 being “I had work drinks with Steve once and he seemed okay because he paid,” and 10 being “I get most of my news from tweets and find it hard to believe that Steve has already, or probably will in the future, have sex with my wife or girlfriend even though that’s the kind of deeply uncool shit he does all the time.” (Usually it’s around a 4: “He’s just kind of dick-ish.”)

Wake up, world! What does it say about our society when a guy like Steve, a guy who regularly wears driving gloves, gets to walk around the place like he owns it? And by “the place” I mean this really quite lovely two bedroom split-level ranch he, point of fact, actually owns, but part of which is now—say it with me (in Spanish) Ocupado! By us.

We wouldn’t be here if we felt there was another way to be heard. But Steve has these really expensive “noise-cancelling” ear buds jammed in most of the time. (Did I mention his favorite group is Maroon 5? Did I even have to?) And, sure, some of us wouldn’t be here if there was decent public transportation around, but you try asking Steve to borrow his car. I did once. He laughed at me. Just laughed. As he did that thing with his driving gloves where he made them tighter around his fingers, jamming each finger tighter into the driving leather, one by one, real slowly. For God’s sake, I’m his cousin! First cousin. Once removed, but still. We went to camp together. The whole bunk couldn’t stand him. Many of them are here now.

But if you walk around the occupation zone—or what we call Steve-free Larchmont—and really listen to the people here, you’ll find we’re not just a bunch of out of work crazies (even though, point of fact, many of us are, yes, currently between jobs.) We are regular people, from all walks of life (most walks at least) with many different reasons for hating Steve. Some people here can’t stand his laugh (very wheezy.) Others find him overly musky. Most of us have heard him describe himself as a “digital strategist.” There are even people here who have never met Steve but have joined us anyway. Ryan Reynolds was here last week. Ryan Reynolds the actor.

But most of us have been here the whole time, since Labor Day, since Steve’s barbeque. And what started off as a few of us being too tipsy to drive home has become a Movement. Last week’s pop-up occupations of Steve’s summer house out on Long Island, and his favorite elliptical machine at his gym, were an amazing show of support.

Everyday it becomes clearer: we are the majority. Not Steve’s parents, or his trainer, or his pets. And regarding the latter need I remind you that as of last week one of Steve’s cats, Chico, now lives in the den. Even Chico is with us!

So, the last two big questions:

1) How long do we plan on staying?
At least through the NFL playoffs. The TV in the den is the truly phenomenal.

2) What is it, exactly, that we want?
Steve to commit seppuku (ritual suicide in the manner of a shamed samurai.)

Kidding! But we would like Steve to relocate to somewhere in Canada. Which, yes, we realize is probably not going to happen. Steve hates Canada.