Our hero Simon Moon – one of them, at any rate – has just informed his equally-leftist, but much less stoned and certainly more hard-headed parents that Freedom will come through Imagination (in that very, very serious voice. You know the one). His father (Tim Moon) responds… well, read:
Dad was the first to recover. “Imagination.” he said, his big red face crinkling in that grin that always drove the cops crazy when they were arresting him. “That’s what comes of sending good working-class boys to rich people’s colleges. Words and books get all mixed up with reality in their heads. When you were in that jail in Mississippi you imagined yourself through the walls, didn’t you? How many times an hour did you imagine yourself through the walls? I can guess. The first time I was arrested, during the GE strike of thirty-three, I walked through those walls a million times. But every time I opened my eyes, the walls and the bars were still there. What got me out finally? What got you out of Biloxi finally? Organization. If you want big words to talk to intellectuals with, that’s a fine big word, son, just as many syllables as imagination, and it has a lot more realism in it.”
I mentioned elsewhere a few days back that I’d trade the entire system of right-punditry – including me – for five experienced GOP street operatives in every district. Because right now we need less pounding on tables and more pounding on doors. You can always find somebody willing to do the former; it’s the latter that’d be more useful right now.
PS: If pounding on doors appeals, though: here’s a site to get you started. Trust me, they’ll be happy to hear from you.
Crossposted to RedState.