There are memories that I have that appear to me clear as anything. I remember sitting in church one Sunday evening, as a child, listening to a missionary speak while he and his wife showed slides of the USSR.
I remember thinking that “underground” churches were literally underground, but I also remember the very serious nature of the discussion.
The missionary talked about how people needed travelling permits to go from region to region. He also discussed how friends, employers, and even family members of folks critical of the USSR snitched on those who dared think in a manner opposed to the Communist state’s government.
The snitching covered words, but also beliefs. They snitched on folks who had hidden Bibles in their homes. The snitching landed people in prisons and work camps.
So, when I hear that we are being asked to snitch on our fellow citizens because they disagree with a proposed policy, it makes me angry.
America provides for dissent…even very vocal dissent. Heck…we endure Code Pink and the like don’t we? I don’t agree with them, but they have the right to yell all they want about policies.
I’m angry. Am I part of an organized effort? No. Is everyone who is at those town hall meetings? Nope.
If I had known about the one in Philly, I would have went. I would have cheered on those who were asking the tough questions of those who had the indignant “how-dare-you-question-big-pappa-nanny-state” looks on their faces.
Btw., why was Rep. Chaka Fattah sitting on his cell phone during the town hall meeting? Guess he doesn’t really care much, eh?
Not many politicians really do care about what we have to say. There are times I have emailed my representative. Rarely have I received any response.
We’re not being listened to, and they are not reading the bills they produce.
They wonder why we are pissed?
Clockwork Orange, anyone? You know, where the real criminals are political offenders.