Hate Has No Home Here

My wife and I have a version of this sign outside of our house. It's faded red by now, after years of screaming to any jerk in its proximity that we're not jerks in this house. We might not fully understand the world around us at the moment, but we won't pretend to know better when it comes to doing the right thing, and the simple fact that hate has no home here sort of feels like the umbrella we've been cowering under. Just like whenever I see a "thin blue line" shirt or cap, or a bumper sticker that kisses the butts of our militarized police forces around the country, I can't help but think that white superiority and the blatant inferiority complex of the police machine are cracking because of just how unrealistic their view of life is. If you think anyone in front of you doesn't deserve the same crap you do, you've got some work to do. Hating someone for who they are, what they wear, who the love, or what they believe is stupid, unless they believe their hate is valid, and if you are guilty of any of those things, kindly inhale a fart out of my puckered balloon knot.

Love,
Dad