Scared of a rug in a desert.
Warriors? Cowards.
Scared of gay people. Oh no our marriage.
Scared of trans people. Oh no bathrooms.
Scared of Muslims. Oh no a mat.
Scared of Mexicans. Oh no my job.
Scared of women. Oh no accusations.
So scared of black people. So, so scared of black people.
They're the guys on Titanic punching women to get on the life boats first then letting them down half-empty so they can stretch their legs.
They'll tell you.
Then ask them: "Aren't you curious why I'm unafraid? Would you like to know what makes me so brave?"
Then tell them.
What, do they think we don't have jobs and families and houses, too?
Do they think we libs and lefties control these hordes they fear so much?
If we did, why did they hit New York City on 9-11?
Then tell them why you're unafraid of all the things that make them tremble.
But the story they tell themselves is one of bravery.
Just bring their awareness to the fact of their fear.
Let it eat a bit at the myth of their bravery.
Perhaps that can be a start.
But they can't deny they're scared of a rug in the desert.
They just said so.
Oh, you want a bathroom law? Yeah, but I'm just not living my life in fear like that.
Gay marriage amendment? Why? I'm not scared of gay people.
Oh but you ARE scared, huh.
Huh
Sure, terrorists are dangerous. But still, I oppose the ban. I don't want to live in fear. You know how it is when you're extra brave.
Or maybe not.