Ah, progressives. They find a way to radicalize even the tamest, kindest of experiences: A movie about Mister Rogers. Progressive activist Timothy Heberlein of Organize Florida, followed by a gaggle of dreadlocked followers, heckled Florida Attorney General Pam Bondi as she left a theater, where she'd been watching Won't You Be My Neighbor?
Protestors spat at her, bocked her exit and hurled insults. One of the louder protestors shrieked:
What would Mister Rogers think about you and your legacy in Florida? Taking away health insurance from people with pre-existing conditions, Pam Bondi! Shame on you!
Someone else screamed:
You're a horrible person!
In an interview with Fox News, Bondi said:
We were in a movie about anti-bullying and practicing peace and love and tolerance and accepting of people for their differences. We all believe in free speech, but there's a big difference there.
The "protests" were so aggressive that the police had to escort Bondi from the theater. Whitney Ray, a spokeswoman for Bondi, told the Tampa Bay Times:
The video they are choosing to share is of the least aggressive portion of the attack that transpired after police arrived to control the scene. What they are not sharing publicly are several previous encounters involving large men getting in the Attorney General's face, spitting and blocking her exit.
Boy, aren't progressives just a basket of fun? They can't even go to the movies without yelling about their politics. Well, stay strong, folks. Don't take the bait.
Cliché as it might sound, I've got a wholesome message for all of us. It's the first and last stanzas of "If—" by Rudyard Kipling, whose words ring truer now than ever:
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
. . .
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings — nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And — which is more — you'll be a Man, my son!