K.K.K. I’m not a member. Never have been. Ain’t gonna be. Don’t even know for sure how to spell it or pronounce it. Is it Klu Klux Klan, or Ku Klux Klan or Ku Kux Klan? I just looked it up in Mirriam-Webster’s dictionary to learn my second guess is correct.
Same dictionary told me I’m not a bigot. I do sometimes have strong opinions about things, but they are generally about stupid things politicians do rather than about people’s race or color or religious preferences.
I’m not Neo-Nazi, Neo-Fascist, alt-right, alt-left, a skin head, or a member of any other radical group currently in the news. I am in no manner an extremist, although I have fervent hate for stupidity, which all those groups mentioned appear to have in abundance. I have no reason, inclination or time to join and participate with any of them.
BUT. When I come home from a day’s work, turn on the television to relax, catch the evening news and tomorrow’s weather forecast, I don’t want to watch “Black Lives Matter” raging through city streets littered with broken glass from shattered windows of businesses where hard working folks earn a living. I don’t want to watch them wheeling stolen televisions, bigger than the one I’m watching, down streets in appropriated shopping carts. I don’t want to watch them jumping through those shattered windows carrying boxes filled with the shoes my children want, but I can’t afford to buy for them right now. I don’t want to see that store left burning behind them.
I don’t want to watch “Occupy Wall Street” demonstrators, blocking streets, highways and traffic intersections, to impede commuters moving to and from their jobs. I don’t want to see the public blocked from entering business and public buildings. I don’t want to watch public parks become open cess pools of shit, garbage and general litter making them unavailable to the working folks whose taxes paid for them and support their maintenance.
[private] I don’t want to see these things, but I do. Such sights are not pleasant to watch at the end of my working day. I go to the supper table or to bed with long face and sour mood. I have absolutely no positive thoughts about those demonstrators or sympathy for their causes. It’s not that I want to hide my head under a blanket and ignore it all. I just want it to stop.
I think I’m not alone. Lots of folks seem to lean toward my way of thinking. We don’t want to be recognized as radicals. We keep our opinions to ourselves or share them with close acquaintances. We don’t wave banners and dress different in public. We don’t sneak around at night planning civil disobedience. We don’t want to physically confront protesting mobs. We go about everyday lives working, honoring friends and family and America. Yet, still, under our breaths we mutter that we need somebody to face down the protestors.
Ultimately, smash, burn, steal and block traffic as they please, protestors will have little lasting impact on the causes they espouse. Sympathizers may agree with, but not join them in the streets. Instead, they will do their protesting at the ballot box where big issues are always decided.
That’s where they’ll meet me. Election day, my poling place. That’s when our votes will be counted and where protested issues will be decided. There we’ll elect political representatives who represent majority of voters. Representatives, who will maintain status quo or change policies to suit their constituents. That’s where we found an alternative to Clinton’s continuation of Obama’s policies. That’s where we found President Trump.
I think he’ll do more toward calming rabble rousing dissent than any possible liberal Democrat candidate we’ve seen lately.