Earlier today a friend of mine shared this gem from Fox News:

Yes, all 193% of Republicans reported in.

Chuckle chuckle yeah yeah. Fox, whatever. Another friend commented on the link, mentioning that Palin would be signing her book, Going Rogue, at the Barnes & Noble here in Orlando tonight. Jokes were made about witty protest signs and I wrote a satirical poem off the top of my head. On further reflection, though, I decided I actually had something to say; not specifically about Sarah Palin, but about the apparent value system of those lining up for hours to purchase her tome and catch a glimpse of the "so gorgeous" hockey mom.

I'm not normally a protester. Rather, I don't go to rallies or hold signs or chant or any such thing. Typically I just write, but today I wrote an open letter to my American brothers and sisters. I hand lettered it in black paint on brown contact paper, used spray adhesive and cardboard to fashion a backing, rolled it up, and went to check out the show.

Before setting myself up across the street I went inside the store so my friend could buy himself a hot chocolate. I had my sign rolled up backwards so none of the words were showing. I knew perfectly well it would be disrespectful and bad for business if I unfurled my message in the store, and had no intention of doing so. A very friendly police officer came up to me.

"Is that a protest sign?"

"Not yet."

"May I see it?"

"I'd rather not unroll it in the cafe."

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"But I haven't done anything wrong yet."

"Should I really wait for you to do something wrong?"

I smiled. "Well, since I have no intention of doing anything wrong, that would be nice."

"I'm not saying I don't agree with you." Sly smile.

Grin. "But that isn't the point."

His partner sidled up, a full two inches shorter than me, and started getting gruff. Officer Friendly waved him off. "Alright hon. But if management comes up and asks you to leave, I need you to leave."

"Not a problem."

After leaving the store and scouting a well lit location across the street from official B&N sidewalk, I unrolled my sign. There was only one other man with a sign, but he was rather inflammatory and nearly got himself beat up twice. Surprisingly, the first five or six passersby gave me cheerful honks, waves, and shouts of support, with a great many thumbs up. I felt good. Bring it on righties!

Fun Fact: The money spent on Going Rogue at this tour stop alone would support me for over a year.

Of course I got all the ignorant backlash I expected to get:

My unemployment is due to my own laziness.
I must believe I'm entitled. (To what I'm not sure... the opportunity to work? To life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness? I'd hope so.)
I must be a socialist.
I must be an Obama supporter. (I'm not)
I blame Palin for my unemployment.
I blame Palin for the economy.
I am angry. (I was smiling and cheerful the whole time, ready to speak intelligently with anyone who wished to engage me.)

Nevermind the fact that my letter calls out an icon-worship form of pageantry these people are more than happy to pour their money into. If Stephen King is free to write a bestseller, why not Sarah Palin? Touche, she is free to write a memoir, and you are free to buy it, but I nonetheless find the millions of dollars of demand for it a sad, sad thing for America.

A couple of men talked to me for forty-five minutes or so; far too long. They had a real passion for Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged, (an argument I've gotten into before and won't waste time on now). To be fair, they at least attempted to understand me, even if they kept putting the same unrelated words in my mouth as everyone else. Insistent that my unemployment is due only to the fact that I don't work hard enough, I told them to tell the other unemployed twelve percent of the country that same thing. I told him that if my financial hardship were my fault, rather than HIS generation's fault, then thousands of local families wouldn't be lining up for the 10 million dollars in rent aid available to Central Florida. Yep. 10 million. And that won't be enough to go around. None of this got through to them. They were busy trying to charm me.

So what did I take away from this? Oh yes, a business card, and an offer of "good honest work" cleaning bathrooms for NJC Corporate Enterprises, Inc. (The website totally sucks, btw.) The sneer on Mr. President, CEO's face as he said it made it painfully obvious he's the type to jerk off to the thought of being the dominating benefactor standing over me on my hands and knees in a bathroom stall, cleaning up his filth.

Because the work I do isn't honest, right?

You know who isn't honest? With themselves, at any rate? All the smug middling businessmen who truly believe they and they alone are the reason for their (minor) successes.