A Heart-Warming Tale to End the Day

Ha ha! It seems LA Hippies are constructed with a bit more piss and vinegar than your garden variety, trust fund Burning Man attendees. Now, I don’t want anyone getting the impression that I condone violence, because I don’t. It’s just that sometimes, karma can be a bitch. The radical right-wing fringe in this country is on the march, helped out by not so subtle hints from their political and corporate masters. I have a sinking feeling that something big is going to happen before they slink off to their underground bunkers and plot for their next revival. Until that happens, though, I hope you won’t fault me for taking a wee bit of pleasure in paragraphs like these two gems:

“Before members of the white supremacist group had arrived, a bare-chested middle-aged man with Nazi insignias tattooed on his chest and back walked into a crowd of hundreds of counter-protesters gathered near 1st and Spring streets.

Surrounded, the man mockingly bobbed his head to the rhythm of demonstrators chanting “Nazi scum.” About a dozen protesters suddenly began pelting the man with punches and kicks. He fell and was struck on the back with the wooden handle of a protester’s sign, which snapped in two. Police eventually reached the man and pulled him from the melee, as blood poured from the back of his neck.”

It’s almost as if all the racist Nazi tattoos and hateful grandstanding are masking a deep-seated self-loathing, lack of self-esteem, and debilitating cowardice. Who’d have thunk it?


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