Land Of The Free Speech And Home Of The Brave Protester

by pessimist

In the spirit of redirecting attention toward the big story of the week - that's Cindy Sheehan - I'm going to look at some other protest efforts that are going on in this nation.

In New York City, a modern Lady Godiva attempts to raise the consciousness of America through its libido:

"This is my only way to talk about my beliefs. It's a metaphor. When I am appearing naked, I have disarmed myself from any uniform because naked people, they never can make war."

I'm not so sure that I agree with that assessment, but considering the state of the loyal opposition in this land, I'll take what I can get. How bad is it? What does it take for a full-time Lt. Col in the US Air force Reserve to risk the end of his career for expressing his distaste for Bu$hCo supporters promotion of the Oil War by defacing their cars?

It's enough to force our wrong-wing friends to ask? "Where's that infamous liberal tolerance?"

San Francisco Chronicle columnist Mark Morford answers that question.

Where is your supposed progressive openness? Your liberal generosity of spirit? I thought you Lefties were all mushy and passive and live-and-let-live?

In other words, where is that famous so-called tolerance I thought all you libs were supposed to possess like some sort of gentle polyamorous smiling hug for the world?

You cannot be serious. Does the answer really need to be articulated? Is it not painfully obvious?

Morford proceeds to provide a long list of grievances. If you care enough to go through them, or if you really need to (if you are a Bu$hCo supporter, this means YOU), you can read them at your leisure.

You, hate-mailers from the sanctimonious Right and even some of you morally paralyzed middle-grounders from the Left, are correct. I am, in fact, deeply intolerant. It is true. I can hide my deep biases and predispositions no longer.

Oh, let us be clear. I love diversity, religious pluralism, peace and love and pacifism and good drugs and open-mouthed sensuality, happy to let you believe in any god you like and marry any gender you like and let you love how you will and be in full control of your sex and your body and your mind.

This, to me, is the America worth fighting for. These are the laws I support. Don't believe in abortion? Don't understand gay people? Sexuality make you rashy? Think Harry Potter teaches kids evil and witchcraft? Don't marry a sexy gay witch abortionist.

But don't you dare, based on your limited understanding of God and life, make laws declaring that I can't.

Enough. Basta. Let us explode those dead meanings, correct the mistaken neocon dictionary. Let us hurl that dying and mealy and abused term back at their powerful and often bigoted scowl. Here is your weak, ineffectual tolerance. We cannot swallow it anymore. In fact, we are choking on it. Let's refashion the old, stagnant definition of tolerance and make it less about merely enduring, merely putting up with the existence of other narrow-minded beliefs no matter how devastating and embarrassing they obviously are to the nation's health.

This feeling, that it is time to rise above our tolerant selves and make a fight of it, extends to a group that rarely involved itself in politics. In their salad days, they sang of street fighting and killing the king, but up to now seem to have sputtered into an inconsequential charicature of the selves they once were.

Will anyone thus notice that the street fighters are back, and killing the king (in a metaphorical way) is again their rallying cry?

"It is direct," Jagger says with a laugh. "Keith said [he breaks into a dead-on Keith imitation], 'It's not really metaphorical.' I think he's a bit worried because he lives in the U.S." Jagger smiles. "But I don't."

Richards is sitting back and taking the long view. "Maybe we're just a product of our time," he muses. "You can get disillusioned with the state of the world."

You call yourself a Christian, I call you a hypocrite You call yourself a patriot, well I think you're full of s—t - Sweet Neo Con

The time may not be right for violent revolution, but something needs to change.

King George had his minions dump Cindy Sheehan into a ditch, but how did he feel when a soldier ditched him?

One day a nurse came in to ask Rodgers if he wanted to meet President Bush, who was visiting the hospital. Rodgers declined.

"I don't want anything to do with him," he explains. "My belief is that his ego is getting people killed and mutilated for no reason -- just his ego and his reputation.

"If we really wanted to, we could pull out of Iraq. Maybe not completely but enough that we wouldn't be losing people -- at least not at this rate. So I think he himself is responsible for quite a few American deaths."

Rodgers says he also declined to meet Dick Cheney, Donald Rumsfeld and Condoleezza Rice.

This wounded soldier has lost faith in his leaders, and he no longer believes their repeated assurances of victory.

Face it, George, the Cindy Sheehans of America are slowly gaining supporters and ever more strength. You can't run, you can't hide - not even in one of Unka Dick's Secrit Hidey-Holes.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and it's even worse when Mama Bear is missing a cub.

Argentina had The Mothers of Plaza de Mayo. America has the Mothers of the Crawford Ditch.

You keep acting like you want us to think you are a brave man just because you pose in militarily-styled clothing in front of massed ranks even though you have dodged every opportunity to demonstrate real bravery.

Are you such a wimp that you can't even face one woman even through the screen of your security detail?

We think so.

Real Texans pride themselves on their personal bravery. You can't even stand up to face a mere woman. You're yellow. The streak is a mile wide down your transceiver-equipped back.

What would Sam Houston say?

"Brave Texans were friends of mine. Governor, you're no brave Texan."

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