I Love You, But I Disagree

If you sincerely believe that a democratic majority can overrule a person's right to pursue her own peaceful pastime or profession, yet can simultaneously pule about mistreatment of minorities: Hey, are you serious? Hello?

I love you, but I believe in individual rights.

If you can rail against entire categories of humanity, be they men, women, whites, blacks, capitalists, leftists, immigrants, or conservatives, and then snivel about intolerance, racism, homophobia, or religious prejudice: How about trying on a new perspective for size?

I love you, but people deserve to be seen as individuals, no matter how they may be classified.

If you believe in religious freedom for Buddhists, Muslims, Wiccans and Atheists, but express that belief by undermining the religious freedom of Christians, or if the converse is true: What does it mean when you say you believe in equal rights?

I love you, but I protest, for the sake of liberty and conscience for all.

If you honestly feel that freedom of choice in deciding whether your offspring will live or die is a right, but would deny others the right to make their own choices about diet, smoking, gun ownership, seat belt or helmet use: With all due respect, perhaps a thinking cap and a quiet corner are in order.

I love you, but not your politically convenient idea of freedom.

If you contend that frank discussion of morality and ethics has no place in classrooms or courtrooms, and then insist that more government is needed because people are irresponsible and insensitive: Would you refuse ten simple commandments even cursory consideration, replace them with ten thousand volumes of legislation, and then wonder why people cease to live by the law when it wouldn't fit in an encyclopaedia?

I love you, but like love, the higher law dwells within man; the lower serves as a cage to confine him.

If you would disarm your neighbors and friends, but trust power-addled strangers with the common defense and the weapons of force, economic policy, foreign relations, and legislative privilege: Please look around at your neighbors and friends and ask yourself who is really the greatest threat to you.

I love you, but power over other people is anathema to decent folks; they don't want it.

If you support the right to keep and bear arms, but would approve of a military draft and begrudge others the right to keep life and limb out of a war they don't want: What do you suppose the second amendment was protecting in the first place?

I love you, but we have irreconcilable differences.

If you suppose that good intentions justify intruding on the lives and properties of your fellow citizens: Do you appreciate being the target of somebody else's good intentions, or haven't you had that particular dubious pleasure yet?

I love you, but we've reached a philosophical Great Divide.

If you propose that a governor or president, unencumbered by medical background, is competent to make medical decisions for you and an entire population, and espouse the idea that vitamins should be regulated at therapeutic doses: Please refrain from running for office, since the public health is at stake.

I love you, but you would give away what was never yours to give.

If you assume that social justice equals treating everyone specifically according to age, race, tax bracket, gender, sexual preference, and disability, and croon about having a level playing field, as if you hadn't already covered it with boobytraps and dunghills: Ask yourself if it's a field you want to compete on.

I love you, but I opt out of your rigged game; human beings are not chess pieces.

If you believe you can make a crime of thought and prosecute the contents of the heart, but you don't see electrodes and truth serum or inquisitors and thumbscrews in your own crystal ball: Dust it off and look again, the life you save may be your own flesh and blood.

I love you, but enough is enough. Love may be blind, but it's not insensate.

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