I had a dream that I was invited to give a speech on feminism at The University of Massachusetts-Amherst. And in the dream I accepted the offer, largely because I wanted the money to buy another gun.
And in my dream I arrived at the airport in Hartford, Connecticut. The students who picked me up to take me to Amherst told stories of radical groups bent on destroying America - starting with an assault on the First Amendment at Planet U-MASS.
The groups, I was told, would follow the Republicans to every conservative event and disrupt their First Amendment activity. They would stand in front of tables - where the Republicans were doing nothing more than collecting donations for disabled veterans – and shout at them. They would call them “war mongers” and “racists” and chant in unison.
And in my dream I arrived at the student union to give my speech. Immediately, I saw droves of gay students marching by wearing dresses. They were arriving to protest my appearance. Others wore black masks and marched in unison - much like the Hitler Youth in Nazi Germany. Still others wore the communist Red Star upon an outer garment.
And in my dream I walked into the room some twenty minutes before my speech was to begin. But I could not stay. The stench of body odor was too great for me to bear. But as I peeked in, I saw the young “men” dressed in drag as they performed their little dance toprotest my speech.
When the speech began, I told a story about a racist who referred to blacks as “coons.” Though condemning racism, the radicals and self-described communists began to hiss and interrupt my speech. And when I condemned a racist and segregationist governor of Mississippi, I asked the audience whether they would join in the condemnation instead of exercising the “tolerance” they spoke about so frequently. But rather than raise their hands, they started shouting me down. I was convinced it was only a dream.
When I spoke of a drug raid – one I participated in nine years before - members of the audience booed and asked whether I had ever smoked pot in high school. I suggested that if they allowed me to finish a sentence, they might determine that I shared some of their libertarian beliefs on the drug war.
But then a young radical shouted “We aren’t libertarians!” She didn’t know how to use the terms “libertarian perspective” and the “Libertarian party affiliation.” Nor did she know how to use soap or deodorant.