The Ultimate Protest
He does what he wants, wherever he wants. Got that?
See, in Nebraska we’re not real experienced at protesting like you Coastal Whale-savers, partly because we have basic knowledge of how things work.
We know that if we sit down in a street, a car is going to run over us. That club in the policeman’s hand will hurt when he uses it, and he’s not just holding it for show. That fire hose the firemen are holding, water’s coming out of that with enough force to kick our asses. Once you get beaten, drenched and squished, protesting kind of loses its charm.
You goody-goody liberal whiners will protest any little thing like a war for oil, human rights violations, racial inequality and every other time a hat drops. Yawn city. Get a life and maybe get behind a real purpose that will help people while you’re at it.
We protest just two things in Nebraska: life and death. End of list. And even though we protest only two things, we’re not very good at protesting either one.
The no-brainer protest, the one you would think Nebraskans couldn’t even fuck up, is the abortion protest. You go to any of the four Planned Parenthood offices in the state, and you’re sure to see someone, whom consequently no one would fuck (not that that really matters as people who have no say in decisions and are not directly affected by the consequences often make decisions for people without any hesitation), standing outside with a sign that reads how abortion is murder or God hates abortion or God should kill you for wanting abortion or something classic like that. We, in the last 30 years, have become very good at standing in front of abortion clinics, but as you know, abortion is still legal.
The seemingly innocuous, innocuous until he’s liquored up, more powerful protest, however, comes from the man with a mullet. That form of protest, we’ve become very good at.
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