Objects in mirror . . .

Are even stranger than you could imagine.

We're at the end of Conch Republic Days, this year commemorating the 25th anniversary of the time the Customs Service set up checkpoints on the mainland road to and from the Keys, sparking a secession, a declaration of war on the U.S., instant surrender (on our part) and application for foreign aid as the Earth's first fifth-world nation. It didn't work, but it was fun.

These revelers were coming down Upper Duval to participate in Saturday's Bed Races, on Lower Duval, which is actually above Upper on a map, so they were going down by coming up. (Don't ask.)

The race benefits AIDS Help, and this contingent was from the 801, a gay bar, but the race headquarters is the Hog's Breath Saloon, as straight as they get. That's what our city motto, "One Human Family," is all about.

The week was filled with drag races (races in drag, actually, to benefit the Helpline), boat races to the reef, the Conch Crawl (as if one needed an excuse to bar-hop), the Conch Cruiser Car Show (the CIA entry -- Cuties in Action -- was of course painted by the late, sainted Captain Outrageous), the World's Longest Parade (all the way from the Atlantic to the Gulf --two whole miles!) and a reenactment of the Great Battle.

The battle itself never happened (the official weapon of the Conch Republic is a loaf of stale Cuban bread, which can be hurled or swung). But who wants to get hung up on details?

In the re-enactment the Conch Republic Navy (actually a schooner, a clipper, a mothballed PT boat and several stalwart dinghies) fires eco-friendly confetti at a Coast Guard cutter in the harbor while shoreside patriots cheer and the CR Air Force provides close support.

I was smiling at the spectacle -- and then I closed my eyes and said a prayer that every war, every rebellion, every insurrection, could be waged in the same spirit, and by the same means.