
It’s amusing to see them pose the question to themselves. It’s not really a question; rather, it’s rhetorical. Posing the question, “Why aren’t we marching in the streets?” is their way of saying that they really should be.
But even after considerable angst, self-incrimination, and rhetorical excesses about not marching, they’re still not marching.
As for why, there’s a simple answer and a complicated one. The simple answer is, because it’s cold outside.
Remember the “protest era” of the 60s and early 70s? College kids would organize protests and sometimes riots with two goals in mind:
- Ending the Vietnam War (or, really, just ending the draft); and
- Ending Spring finals.
You might reasonably ask, what about Winter finals? Well, they wanted to end Winter finals, too, but, baby, it’s cold outside when Winter finals roll around. What fun is it to protest outside in the cold?
So, the hippies conveniently decided that the Vietnam War – or at least the draft – needed ending mainly in the spring, not the winter.
Along the way, the hippies appointed themselves as the outsiders, the disrupters, the independent thinkers, the anti-establishmentarians who were rightly skeptical of government.
Such images were useful in fitting in with the cool kids, and picking up chicks.
Here we are, two generations later. The hippies are now grown up, kind of, and have jobs, sort of, at businesses, of a type, such as colleges and media outlets tasked with setting the cultural norms.
Those hippie-run institutions survive on some tuition from suckers (or advertising in the case of the media), huge donations of money from foundations that they and their friends run, and grants from a government that, again, they and their friends run.
In short, the hippies who sought to tear down the establishment are now . . . the establishment. Ironically, and with an utter lack of self-awareness, they continue their quixotic tilting at The Man, even as they themselves have morphed into him.
There’s one particular man they loath. This Bad Orange Man is an outsider, a disrupter, an independent thinker, an anti-establishmentarian who is rightly skeptical of government.
Does that sound familiar?
He’s everything the hippies imagined themselves to be two generations ago, and still fantasize that they are now, even as they rake in money and power from the establishment they simultaneously condemn and control.
Bad Orange Man is therefore not just a threat to their creature comforts, but to their self-image. For that, they deem him stupid, diabolically clever, fascist, Hitlerian, and a pooh-pooh breath with corny hair. They’d say he’s a communist, if only they disliked communism.
Yes, he’s as bad as they get. But who wants to stand on the streets of DC in the semi-freezing winter?
That’s the simple answer to the question “Why aren’t we protesting in the streets?”
Here’s the complicated answer. They feel just a twinge of admiration and empathy for Bad Orange Man. Maybe they know, deep in their subconscious, that he’s not The Man they protested against, but is the man they always imagined themselves to be.
Then again, that credits them with both a consciousness and a conscience.
We’ll see come spring. Until then, the brave resistance of the aging hippies will remain mostly pixel protests composed in keyboard comfort. Come spring, they might get out a bit more. But those achy knees . . .







