Okay, I know, I’m not Louis C.K. funny, but that’s not the point. It’s that truth, when uncomfortable, has now become a target for censorship, even in social interactions, when the message isn’t liked. Because I risked my life for this country’s foreign policy whims for several decades, and I swore an oath to its Constitution, I fully intend to exercise my First Amendment rights, and my Second, and every other damn one. As far as I’m concerned, I earned it. Even had I not, however, I’d still be equally entitled to those rights. And I feel the same way, even when the exercise of those rights bothers me.
To wit – I’ve happened to be present at some protests years ago – on a whim – where people were burning the flag. I’m old enough to remember Texas v. Johnson, by the way, the 1989 case that went 5-4 and found that a Texas law prohibiting burning of the flag was unconstitutional. Call it my generation’s “Roe” if you like. That case was decided by one. effing. vote. The dissent is passionate and extremely well-written – and when I was in law school (later) as a military officer, I really agreed with that dissent in my heart. But I knew in my head it was wrong.
To a lot of people the flag may be just a symbol, but it’s also the symbol I’ve watched draped over many of my friends’ coffins, and I’ve had to hand out too many of them to grieving families. One of my jobs on independent duty was to attend local funerals for Marines – and since we are “always Marines” – it falls to local units to send someone to handle veterans’ funerals. As it turned out, because of my unit’s proximity to a couple of very large and busy veterans’ cemeteries, and to cities that have a high per capita of Marines (the Boston area is a Marine recruiter’s wet dream), we were the second busiest unit in all of the Marine Corps with funeral duties – only Eighth and I had more. As a consequence, I’ve had to fold and hand over that last remnant of our country’s respect to mothers, fathers, children, spouses, and even grandkids. It’s hard to describe.
The first time I was a wreck. A grizzled Staff Sergeant pulled me aside after it was over and I’d taken a walk to compose myself away from the rest of the troops. He was smoking near a tree as I came back.
“‘salright, sir,” he said, blowing out some smoke. “We’ve all been there. It’ll get…” he paused as if he was about to say ‘easier’ and then reconsidered. “Well, you’ll get better at it.”
So, seeing someone burning that flag makes me really want to give the pollutant a sound a thorough ass-whipping on the spot. But that’s visceral. Most veterans I know, however, don’t and won’t ever do such a thing. They respect Texas v. Johnson, even if they don’t like it. As an aside, I think the country would do well to remember and learn something from the people it asks to be best trained in the use of violence that they follow those one vote decisions. I have more thoughts on that in a later “culture” post still in progress.
So, anyway, to the pictures!
A friend of mine posted this picture to his Facebook page. Kinda funny, nothing to take too seriously, but of course it’s Facebook, so what do you expect?
I saw the comments and found a couple that I thought were interesting. Of course someone is going to find a reason to be offended, especially in response to some comments that were supportive of the idea expressed in the photo.
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| I did have time to protect the names of the dumb |
Now, I have been called many things, including obnoxious, smug, and a prick – among many others. But if people could get past that, I think sometimes I offer some ideas that might be genuinely worth considering.
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| I think the first guy above has a great point. I think I may not have made any friends with my comment, however. |
Okay, so maybe I am an asshole. But really, why the giant 50 cop checkpoint, when you could station a guy or two near large lots where people usually come out of the bars or just in those areas and have Officer Friendly walking around telling people, “if you aren’t sure if you’re over the limit, you probably are. Call a cab. I am here and I do not want to have to arrest drunk drivers. Please don’t make me.”? Wouldn’t that actually prevent a lot more drunk drivers from ever getting their cars in the first instance?
Now here’s the funny part. I know some cops like this. Great guys. The best, really. Exactly what you’d hope and expect for from a police officer. And to them, I offer a hat tip and my eternal thanks. Unfortunately, I also know the other kind, too. And I also know sometimes they’re doing what they’re being told to do, i.e. enforcing shitty laws, whether it’s arresting the scourge of “loosie cigarette sellers” (Eric Garner) or kicking in doors in the utterly-evil-and-irredeemable “War on Drugs.”
Maybe we could eliminate just some of the bullshit laws, the Union requirements, cops walking around with their hands on their triggers (and no, your job isn’t even nearly as dangerous as lumberjacking), and politicians trying to score political points whenever a black guy gets shot – or even questioned if he’s from Harvard (yes, I’m looking at you Mr. President, you douchebag opportunist). Maybe then we could all – police included – start thinking about how to help each other and not how to get each other.