AKA The Boy Who Cried Protest
There once was a cisgender hetero-normative child who identified as a boy. If Rachel Dolezal was writing this, that would be the story.
Anyway, there was a boy who was bored as he sat on the stool at his locally owned vegan bakery watching the village sheep…er…I mean watching the liberal denizens eating their free-trade certified organic Kopi Luwak muffin tops. To amuse himself he took a great breath and sang out, “Protest! Protest! Trump is literally Hitler! He is going to talk all your vegan baked gnocchi!”
The unemployed professional agitators gathered up some well meaning friends who were within earshot and came running up the hill to help the boy drive the Trump/literally Hitler away. But when they arrived at the top of the hill, they found no Hitler. They only found a strange thing they called “normal Americans” and “winning.” They had not seen or talked to these for years. The mob ignored them and looked at the boy. The boy laughed at the sight of their angry faces and hastily assembled and badly misspelled signs.
“Don’t cry ‘Hitler’, shepherd boy,” said the well-meaning but to this point useless agitators, “when there’s no Hitler!” They went grumbling back down the hill complaining about racism and xenophobia, although nobody really knew what xenophobia meant.
Later, the boy sang out again, “Hitler! Hitler! The Trump is turning us into Nazi Germany!” To his naughty delight, he watched the well-meaning but mindlessly misinformed professional agitators run up the hill to help him drive the Hitler away.
When the agitators, who blindly responded to anyone who yelled “Hitler!” saw no Hitler they sternly said, “Save your frightened song for when there is really something wrong! Don’t cry ‘Hitler’ when there is NO Hitler!” A professional agitator named Chuck Shoemer slipped the boy $20 and said “No, boy. You keep screaming Hitler. Don’t listen to the mindless rubes. We must yell Hitler every day. Here is a list of other words to use if you get tired of saying Hitler.”
The boy just grinned and watched them go grumbling down the hill once more, but in lesser numbers than before. Clearly, some of the agitators had grown tired of the false cries of “Hitler!” and stopped coming. The boy , Albert Sharptown, happily pocked the $20 and decided to make a career out of professional agitating when he grew older.
Later, he saw a REAL Hitler prowling about his local farmers market looking for good deals on vine-ripened organic tomatoes and free-range chicken eggs. Alarmed, he leaped to his feet and sang out as loudly as he could, “Hitler! Hitler!” It was a REAL Hitler!
But the villagers thought he was trying to fool them again, and so they didn’t care. Only a few, tired, very old and confused agitators came to shake signs with bad misspellings and offensive slogans. At the point of their greatest need, they were at their weakest. They could not drive the Hitler away because the other well-meaning villagers had grown tired of their nonsense.
At sunset, everyone wondered why the boy hadn’t returned to the village with their $18 Manhattans and deconstructed organic artisan vegan tacos that they ritually order from that new place on 4th Avenue. They, being too tired to engage any longer, got on their smartphone and sent a Task Rabbit for $5 who went up the hill to find the boy. They found him weeping.
“There really was a Hitler here! Your deconstructed organic artisan vegan tacos and Manhattans are gone! I cried out, “Hitler” Why didn’t you come?”
An old sad and seemingly weepy man tried to comfort the boy as they walked back to the village. He told the boy, as he cried “What Hitler did to those tacos…weep…cry…was Unamerican and…weep…mean spirited.” The man had strangely brought a professional photographer and press corps to photograph the event.
“We’ll help you look for the lost tacos in the morning,” he said, putting his arm around the youth, “Nobody believes a liar…even when he is telling the truth! Believe me, I know. I’ve been a liar my whole life and got away with it until about 11 days ago. Don’t worry, we’ve still got that whole list of other names to call!”
*The moral of the story is that the liberals and the left really need to wise up and dial it back. Trump isn’t literally Hitler. I’m a huge fan of our new President. That said, the second he starts rounding up American citizens and gassing them to death, you can count me in on the literal resistance to Hitler movement. However, if you keep up your hysterics to someone who is clearly NOT HITLER, someday there may be someone who is. If you don’t stop it now, nobody will pay any attention to you later.
Listen or don’t. At this point, I don’t listen to you. You’ve lost me and don’t seem interested in ever getting me back. I know who hasn’t forgotten about me. I voted for him in November.