Something occurred to me a while back.  I realized that I really, really don't like progressives.

I don't like their raunchy language, their rude behavior, their physical vileness.  I don't like them interrupting lunch, or shouting down a speaker I want to hear, or lying to smear people they disagree with.

I don't like them pretending to be wounded in their souls when somebody says a word they disapprove of.  I don't like them murdering babies in the womb and calling it reproductive health.  I don't like their vindictiveness, their gathering at the homes of political adversaries and making lives miserable, their faking hate crimes and race crimes.

I don't like that they pay hoodlums, gangs, and other bad people to riot and destroy.  I don't like their assaults on American institutions.  I don't like their noise, their violence, their ceaseless vilification of decent Americans, their policing of speech, their intimidation of anybody they find distasteful.  I dislike their proclivity for mob rule, their approval of criminals, their disdain for honest citizens.

I could go on and on about the things I sincerely, totally, completely, and without mental reservation dislike about progressives, but you get the point.  Actually, it could all be summed up as "I don't like adults acting like babies in dirty diapers."

Truth to tell, none of this occurred to me a while back.  Rather, it was some fifty years ago, at the University of Kansas, when I first encountered people like this.

But you know what I mean.