Free Markets, Free People
Yeah, yeah, yeah – I know, what they did was destructive to personal property and isn’t right. But I’m having a hell of a time working up any real anger over that:
Shortly after finishing their protest at the funeral of Army Sgt. Jason James McCluskey of McAlester, a half-dozen protesters from Westboro Baptist Church in Topeka, Kan., headed to their minivan, only to discover that its front and rear passenger-side tires had been slashed.
To make matters worse, as their minivan slowly hobbled away on two flat tires, with a McAlester police car following behind, the protesters were unable to find anyone in town who would repair their vehicle, according to police.
The minivan finally pulled over several blocks away in a shopping center parking lot, where AAA was called. A flatbed service truck arrived and loaded up the minivan. Assistant Police Chief Darrell Miller said the minivan was taken to Walmart for repairs.
I’ve defended the rights of these cretins to do what they do as an act of free speech, a right that only has power if those we disagree with are able to exercise it as well. But I think these scumbuckets are the dregs. And while I don’t condone what was done to their tires, I can understand the anger that might drive some to do it.
What I found most enjoyable, however, was the fact that the repair shops refused them service. We call that the "consequence" of exercising your right of free speech.
Oh, and this:
Even before the protesters discovered their damaged tires, they faced off with a massive crowd of jeering and taunting counterprotesters at Third Street and Washington Avenue, two blocks from the First Baptist Church, where the soldier’s funeral was held.
Miller estimated that crowd to number nearly 1,000 people, and they not only drowned out the Westboro protesters with jeers, but with raucous chants of "USA, USA."
You don’t pull that sort of stunt in Oklahoma. My wife’s an Okie. I know of what stuff they’re made . And its pretty stern.
Rest in peace, Sgt. McCluskey.
I love you, McAlester.