As I leaf through the images of the 50501 protests around the country I’m sickened by what I see. The detritus of humanity: the unproductive, the losers, the self-absorbed, the ignorant, the spoiled, the impetuous, the insolent, the corrupt, the desperate-for-attention, the FOMO, the lemmings, the addled, the dumbed-down, the brain-polluted, the brain-dead, the indolent, the limp-wristed underbelly of our society with their multi-colored hair, pre-printed placards and obnoxious, droning “Hey Hey Ho Ho” chants…I’m disgusted by it all.
How sick is this? From what you recall of history, is this not the substance of the communist revolution? That may sound hyperbolic, but to suggest that these orchestrated “protests” are similar to the 18th century uprisings is not fanciful.
Yes, I know I’m supposed to be tolerant of all people, open to dialogue, respectful of different opinions.
But these people (I hesitate to call them that… ‘vermin’ is more apt) don’t have opinions, they won’t listen to reason or facts or arguments based on reality. They don’t even know what is real anymore! Up is down, right is left, men are women, women are men, or “non-gendered”.
“Oh,” my well-to-do, highly educated liberal acquaintances will say, “They’re just opposing the chaos that Orange Man has wrought.” “Look what he’s done to democracy, to the rule of law, he’s a dictator, he’s inhuman, he’s a fascist, he’s not a legitimate president…” and so on and so forth. These used to be, nominally, friends. Now I can’t stand to be around them. I dread going to the grocery store and having to stand in line with these self-absorbed, in-your-face wastoids.
Occasionally I’ll see a “normal” mom with kids in tow, dressed like kids are supposed to be dressed and behaving like kids are supposed to behave. It’s jarring…so unexpected…almost out of place!
But refreshing. I almost feel like approaching them and saying, “Thank you for being normal.”
In fact, there have been times in a restaurant when I’ve stopped at a table with a mom and dad and two kids quietly sipping milk, no iPads, Apple watches or iPhones in sight, and offered my compliments on just how wonderful it was to behold the scene they made.
By way of contrast, I’m becoming immune to the depravity around me.
As I sit here trying to articulate my dismay and sadness with what’s going on in our country at the moment, I’m at a loss for words. Writers far wiser than I have said it better. I merely add my contempt and revulsion to theirs.
But it’s Easter Sunday. One side of my face is bright red and painful. I shall try to turn and offer the other side.
