September 6th, 2005 by Jemaleddin Cole
The best thing about being called an asshole hippy by some immature mama’s boy in your office, is when you get to watch him having the same kinds of arguments with the same people that got him all riled up in the first place.
Clint called me a hippy for saying that we shouldn’t shoot looters (and just to pick nits, I said that we should arrest them, not try to understand them), while he spent a day explaining the socialist realities of a modern society in which it’s in everyone’s best interests to spend public money to rebuild private property destroyed by an “act of god” to a person that said that “those people chose to live there.” Who wants to buy him his first tie-dyed shirt?
Not that I mind being called an asshole. (Or a hippy, for that matter. Some of my favorite family members are hippies.) I know it isn’t nice, and I know it isn’t polite, but when I hear somebody spouting bullshit, I call them on it. If wanting people to know the basic facts of the issues they’re discussing makes me an asshole, so be it.