Bring on the Hate

I don't pretend that this will make me feel better. It won't. But I wanted to try my hand at this "I'm intolerant of intolerance" angle. I figured that, rather than dip my toe in the shallows, I'd dive right into the deep end and go for the real meat: Hate. I mean, maybe I've never hated anything because deep down a curmudgeon needs to be annoyed, and so, in a stupidly twisted way, embraces the source of the annoyance. Or maybe I never cared enough to get my dander up to the point of actual hatred. Even when it came to the extremely unpleasant and wholly unjustifiable serving of liver and Lima beans, I could only muster the old lukewarm "agree to disagree" cop-out. Well, no more. I'm about to bring on the hate.

If you support the "Fairness Doctrine," I hate you.
Not because you are ill informed, I'll give you the benefit of that particular doubt. But because you want to live in a world where Congress will literally have the power to tell American radio stations what they can broadcast, where there is an outside chance (I don't care how remote) that we might have to "balance" songs about sex with an equal measure of songs about abstinence, or force program directors to go out and find someone who loves the war and broadcast their statement every time someone says they despise it. You'll say this example is egregious: I hate the idea of rape. I hope that you do as well. Imagine a broadcasted discussion about the horrors of rape, featuring numbers victims could call for support, followed by a legally mandated commentary by some freak who thinks it is part of the natural way of things. This is what your fear of people who disagree with you will get us.
And by the way: If you're afraid to let the market decide who should be on the air, then I hope you can accept my hate as a respectful substitute for the pity I was going to extend.

If you have ever compared (or agreed with anyone who compared) modern Islamic extremists to modern American Christians, I hate you.
I'm not part of any born-again evangelical superchurch, in fact it irks me to say anything that appears like defending their ilk. But really--go ahead and mock and deride and dismiss religious types all you want. Just don't EVER put an American who would show up at your door with banana bread if your spouse was ill with someone who would cut off your head because you think Jewish people have a right to exist. I get that religious extremism causes problems, but an activist who carries a sign that says "Abortion Stops a Beating Heart," is a far cry from a jihadist who stops beating hearts on a bus with a bomb strapped to his chest. Surely you see how even a so-called christian who writes their Congressperson to express their stupid opinion that gay people shouldn't be able to visit each other in the hospital (if you ever meet one, by the way, I'll give you a dollar) cannot be put in the same box as a religiously sanctioned official who would castrate a gay person in the public square. And if you think they ARE in the same category, then I'm beginning to think that you are a bigger problem than both of them.

If you persist in thinking that there is a huge difference between the two behemoth political parties, I don't hate you yet, but I'm getting there.

If you bought a Dixie Chix album just to support their apparent cause (as if it could or should be anything beyond selling records), I hate you. It used to be about the music, man.

If you are in the Mafia, I hate, Hate, HATE you. In fact anyone who has ever perpetrated or observed an act of physical violence without feeling sick inside should be feeling the hate.

Yeah, now I'm rolling.

I'm also officially stating an official hatred for litterbugs, thieves, and guys who take their shirts off in public, with an honorable mention to teenagers, that guy who threw the giant beer soaked paper towel wad at my head at a baseball game, anyone taller than me, every last one of you who has ever spoken ill of a Mormon missionary, and anyone who ever made fun of my little brother.

I was wrong. I do feel better.