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Anarchy Pony's avatar

Meet me in the middle, says the unreasonable man.

You take a step toward him, and he takes a step back.

Meet me in the middle, says the unreasonable man.

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Old Man Shadow's avatar

No.

This is not the time.

This is not the place.

Do not tell me to love right now. Do not tell me to turn the other cheek. Do not tell me to hug it out with oppressors. Do not tell me to proclaim evil to be good and good to be evil.

The voice of the moderate has and always will call for peace, peace... when there is no peace. They want the absence of tension. They want the polite acceptance of bigotry. They want the targets of that bigotry to shut up or smile and act nicely and say, "Thank you, Sir, may I have another?" Just as their fathers and grandfathers smiled at the "Negro" who "knew his place" and shined his shoes or opened his door for him and then kindly walked around to the back and ate lunch in the alley out of sight never knowing or caring that he only served him and acted polite because he feared the mob that would torture and hang him if he didn't and the "justice" system that would excuse it leaving his family destitute and without him.

They want the women to tolerate the assaults, the sexual violence, the rape, the desecration of their bodies and souls, the demeaning of their minds, the crushing of their spirits, and the very silencing of their voices, while the boys chuckle and laugh.

They not only want a false peace, they want praise for their "moderation" as if moderation and compromise with evil was something to laud!

No, sir. Not today. Not now.

Evil won. And I do not care what excuses you make for it. Our tone? Our tone! Every day we sit and endure words and sentiments that are a thousand times worse than the righteous judgements we have made in the face of heaven and men. Yet we are expected to excuse and forgive and ignore them. We are expected to endure while they moan and wail when the good man and good woman say, "Woe unto you, you hypocrites!"

Not today. Not now.

You have pushed. We have fallen back. You have pushed more. We have fallen back. In our attempts to reach common ground and appease your vile appetites for cruelty and malice, we have surrendered to you time and time again, but no, sir. Not now. Not today.

The line is drawn here. You will not move farther.

If that means the sacrifice of our time, so be it. If that means we must surrender our liberty to the jailers, so be it. If that means we must make a sacrifice of our own blood, then may it bear witness against you in history and in heaven and on the Earth and may it mean something.

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