So I have a few readers – those from Canada specifically - who have gently inquired in the polite way that I have come to know as being characteristic of our friends from the North about why I would allow a certain ridiculous comment in the last post to stand unchallenged.

The answer is easy: Like the title above suggests, I don’t argue with idiots. It’s a waste of my time. If you are a decent human being whose mama has raised you right it is a waste of your time too.

Not that I have never argued with idiots. There was a time when -as a vigorous young college student – I felt it my sacred duty to put the verbal beat-down on anyone who disagreed with my point of view. It wasn’t hard for me to “win” in these exchanges, seeing as how I was a graduate of the James Michener school of verbosity and have always possessed the energy of ten thousand yapping chihuahuas. 

(Typically my sparring partner would give up: not because I was right, but because I had a habit of physically outlasting anyone who challenged me.)

Since then, however, I have changed my mind.

It happened one day while I watched one of those Explorer documentaries on the National Geographic channel. The subject of this particular program was white supremacy and while I can’t remember the bulk of it (the documentary wasn’t one of NG’s better attempts) there was one scene in which a group of be-sheeted KKK members had rallied on the steps of some public building. Or at least they were attempting to, because while the march may have originally been intended as a recruitment event it was clear that it was better attended by hordes of angry residents (both black and white) who were absolutely pissed that their streets had been taken over by a bunch of swaddled redneck jackasses.

I’d assert here that I can’t blame the residents but that would be digressing.

So anyway, while the embattled members of the KKK (and I refer to these guys as “embattled” in the same way I might refer to Fred Phelps should he ever find his way into a windowless room filled with gold star mothers) worked their way up the parade route I noticed something very interesting; their police escort was heavily manned by men and women from the local law enforcement detail… a good number of whom were black.

So…

#1 – In the KKK you had a group who, no matter how ignorant and disgusting their message is, has an inarguable and constitutional right to assemble peaceably.

#2 – You had the counter-demonstrators who were exercising their own constitutional right to publicly decry the event.

#3 – You had the requisite law enforcement outfitted in riot gear with batons encircling the KKK folks in order to prevent them from being torn to pieces by said counter-demonstrators.

#4 – And! There was nary a recruit in sight. Maybe because even in the South showing up to participate in such a disgusting spectacle without having your identity hidden by mom’s best egyptian cotton is a sure way to get your ass kicked when the cops aren’t looking.

I’ll admit it was quite a sight watching several white supremacists being protected by the very people they deride as inferior. But then again, I thought, maybe it’s not so awful.

Obviously I don’t know any of those officers personally and if the program featured interviews with any of them I don’t recall it. I have no way of knowing what was going through their minds as they performed their duties to protect free speech that day.

That being said, it did occur to me that there was really no reason the KKK should have ruffled the feathers of those officers in the least. When you get down to it, the very reason the police were there was because the KKK and it’s message is so wildly opposed that the group required police protection in the first place. Why should those officers lower their personal standards by engaging in behavior that was anything but dignified? Why should any of them have wasted their breath uttering contempt for a relic of an ugly past that is clearly dying?

In other words, why did I expect any of those officers to waste their time pointing out that the KKK was an ignorant group of hateful misanthropes when the retards were more than willing to throw on a few sheets and prove it themselves?

And that, my friends is why I don’t argue with idiots. If you want to make stupid comments, spew hateful rhetoric, or behave like a bigoted moron then be my guest. So long as you restrict yourself to the realm of free and protected speech and don’t violate the laws of this country then knock yourself out. Your inability to think critically and relate to others in a mature manner is a poor reflection on you, not me.

Also, I don’t know about the rest of my readers but I’m a very busy person. I don’t have the time nor do I have the desire to run around the blogosphere arguing with every bed-wetter with internet access. The way I see it, these folks should be actively encouraged to reveal their particular brand of stupidity since it is only by their words that we can recognize and better ignore them. 

Which is why I don’t argue with the jackasses anymore. If those officers could – in the midst of a situation that carried over a century of hurt and ugly history – conduct themselves in a dignified manner while protecting people who hate them then I can certainly ignore a few bigoted and ignorant comments left on a freakin’ blog.

So what do we have here?

#1 – First off I apologize to all my Canadian readers for that last post. I never meant to insinuate that bloodthirsty hordes of Canucks were waiting to swarm down and force their funny-looking money on us. (But I still suspect that under all that politeness lurks a nation who is secretly annoyed with being America’s hat.) I even apologize to the wannabes who aren’t really Canadian but moved their silly asses to Manitoba. Although I must admit that I narrow my eyes at a people who – by choice – spend their winters in a place that involves snow, de-icer and this thing, I believe it is called a wind chill factor? 

(shudder)

Just writing that makes me want to go lather myself in Coppertone.

#2 – Secondly! MW, of DWSUWF, which happens to be my favoritest political blog ever - even when I vehemently disagree with him (which I never do in a public forum because me taking on mw over foreign policy would look something like a bowl of pudding challenging James Carville to a debate. And not even a particularly bright bowl of pudding at that.)

…but even when, ahem, he’s wrong and I’m right MW has the virtue of always being entertaining. Except when he tags me with memes because anyone who has been hanging around since my last blog knows that I hate the *%$#@! memes so much that I banned them. MW seems to have found a loophole however; he tagged me with not one, or two but THREE of the vile little bastards just after I moved into my new digs but before I could install an effective anti-meme device or even break out the cootie spray. 

Yeah, I’m getting around to your memes MW but you’ll have to give me a day or two to recover from this slashing knife wound in my back.

#3 – Thirdly, Lori is spreading her own bloggy virus in the form of a “letter to my body” post which she had great fun writing here. I really liked her post and figured it would be fun to take her up on the suggestion of writing my own until I realized that a letter to my body would read like the amend portion of a twelve step program. So Lori, I promise I’m working on this but it’s gonna be a few days until I’m able to adequately research the statute of limitations on, uh, a few things.

#4 – My brother, you know, the guy who digs up dead people for a living and keeps human heads in jars on his desk? Yeah… he’s finally decided to get away from the lame blogging tool on myspace and head into the murky waters of Blogger. As in an actual blog. On Blogger. So! If you want to read the awesome effort that is my brother’s insistence upon waking up everyday with the singular goal of being perpetually annoyed with his fellow man then hop on over to Anthroslug: The Much Put Upon.

Oh, and nobody can grow a wicked Viking beard the way my brother can. Who doesn’t want to read a blog by a guy whose facial hair makes him look at home in a helmet with horns coming out the sides?