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If Your Protest Blocks Traffic I Will Be Against It No Matter How Noble It Is, Even If It’s Anti-Dead Puppy

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I was writing a short story for the site to take my (and your) mind off the shit tornado of emotion that is this country right now. It was about frats, getting drunk, etc. A real solid piece of dick-fiction. (God I need a better name for that, but I won’t ever come up with one. And part of me doesn’t want to.) It’ll be ready tomorrow.

That’s because I, like, everyone else, can pretty much only think about one thing: last night. And there is almost literally nothing to distract me from it. Everything involves last night. If I went to see Doctor Strange tonight I’m like 60% sure Benedict Cumberbatch would at some point turn to the screen and say, “Donald Trump” in his mediocre American accent.

Emotions are running high. Running high with the fury of Usain Bolt on PCP being chased by a mountain lion that he’s hallucinating.

Facebook is currently a wasteland of anxiety, moralizing, speculating, shaming, gloating, and people I went to college with gaining weight. Yes, I know that sounds like every day on Facebook, but somehow it has multiplied itself by infinity. My Twitter feed, which is largely made up of journalists and news outlets, is all reaction pieces and live look-ins at protests all over the country.

One of those protests happens to be here in Austin, TX. And it’s currently blocking roads downtown. The protesters, who are being broadcast on Facebook live by the University of Texas’ student paper, say it’s because of democracy, though I have to imagine based on last night’s results, combined people’s intense hatred of sitting in traffic, the majority of citizens here would probably vote to not have their commute extended indefinitely by a bunch of angry hipsters.

Look, I didn’t want Trump to win last night. And I completely understand why there are people who are anxious. Personally I think their fears are founded, though, ultimately, will not come to fruition. (At least, not the really bad ones. If you’re afraid you’re losing your Obamacare, well, yeah that’s gone.) But yes, if a candidate spent a lot of his campaign calling Irish-Catholics Pope-blowing alcoholics (a real thing that more or less happened back in the day!) who we needed to put on boats and send back to Rotten Potato Island, and crowds greeted that sentiment with wild enthusiasm, I’d be a little worried when he got elected.

But holy fuck stay out of my way when I’m trying to get home in the midst of a caffeine crash and hunger pangs. Just get on the side of the road. I can fucking see you. All the rubberneckers will already slow things down enough to make it possible to read your signs and hear your dumb chants.

“Hey hey, ho ho, Donald Trump has got to go.”*

*The Austin protesters were actually chanting this. Amazing Trump’s campaign was able to overcome creativity like that.

I would run down old women protesting to stop government sanctioned euthanasia if they were blocking my commute. I would advocate for literally whatever the exact opposite of a road-blocking protest was demonstrating for. It could be a “Keep Rob Fox’s Butthole From Being Decimated On A Bi-Daily Basis By Sharpened Jackhammers” protest. But if they got between me and taco night I would end up 1) being opposed to their cause and 2) having a closed casket funeral that nobody felt comfortable speaking to each other at.

“Let’s just remember Rob’s smile.”

“I… I can’t do that because I read the police report and know that one of those backhoe sized jackhammers you see at highway construction sites knocked out all his teeth… through his butt. That’s how he died.”

“Good God. Well… how about those Cardinals, huh?”

I am generally inclined to hear anyone’s case about anything. Every week on this site I field dozens of TFM reader arguments for why life is worthless. That’s what makes this country great. Open minds and discourse. So maybe don’t start your pitch with something that makes me literally consider hitting you with my car, or at least delivering a glancing blow.

Trump won. You wanna make a difference? Start working for the Democrats. Or, if you’re an idiot, the Green Party. Knock on doors and make phone calls for the candidates you believe in. You know, things you almost certainly didn’t do up until yesterday. (I’m sure someone who’s reading this will be like, “Well I did work for Clinton so nice assumption you white-cis-male-privileged idiot!” Good for you, random outlier. Like 95% of that protest didn’t. And clearly, if they can hug and cry in a road for four hours today, they had the free time to help out.) I know the grassroots stuff isn’t as fun as blocking traffic, chanting, having news stations film you, and getting hella likes. But also, me and a lot of other people you’re trying to reach won’t want to run you down with a car on sight. It seems like that might behoove your cause.

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