Would you like to yell at a politician?
     I've seen it done on TV when politicians speak at gatherings--town hall meetings or venues with "backdrops" composed of human beings symbolically representing the politician's publicly stated views.  A protestor in such settings doesn't have much of a chance remaining in the room, so he or she must shout the point of disagreement, the words brief as if they're written on a sign.  Since the protestor just sounds angry, and is, the politician need only remain silent, waiting for the muscle to shove the citizen expressing free speech out of hearing of those present, and the microphones.
     Savvy politicians, once yelled at, may make a witty comment, or a quip not so funny, as when Sarah Palin used the opportunity of being yelled at to praise the police and first responders, while ridiculing the Black Lives Matter movement--a clever, but malicious jab, illustrating her genuine pettiness combined with the contemporary Republican willingness to embrace divisiveness.
     After a protestor gets taken away by Secret Service men or private bodyguards, I wonder what happens to them outside the event.  If they remain argumentative, a ride in a police car may take them away from the object of their displeasure.  The politician, meanwhile, works his or her mouth, saying the usual things:
   
     America is the greatest nation in the world, the greatest in history, and our greatest days are ahead.
     There may be many reasons for pessimism, but hope will take us far.
     America has nothing to apologize for.
     Our great democracy finds itself challenged by an ever-changing world.
     Beans make us fart, but cheese makes us irregular.
   
     News cameras follow the politician, but I want to see the arrested protestor on the back seat of the police car, handcuffed, thinking about the televised encounter, hoping it made a difference.  The protestor may already realize his or her outburst means nothing in the big scheme, but it must be exhilarating to break with decorum at a gathering where the only focus should be a politician running things already, or wanting to run things.
     The Iraqi man who threw his shoes at President Bush during a press conference did so for good reasons: Bush made the decision to invade Iraq based on fabricated evidence of Hussein's WMD programs; he appointed L. Paul Bremer as virtual viceroy--Bremer's mismanagement fueled the Iraq Civil War--and the President and his advisors, Dick Cheney and Donald Rumsfeld especially, destabilized the Middle East, making decisions leading to the wrecking of Iraq's infrastructure, to the maiming, torturing, displacing, and killing of hundreds of thousands of people, making them mass murderers and doom bringers on a scale the next school massacre perpetrator can only dream about.
     None of these horrible realities meant much to news reporters when showing and talking about the shoe throwing incident.  They talked about Bush's quick reflexes, the fact, too, that shoes, for God's sake, were thrown.  In Iraq, shoes, associated with dirt, thrown at a world leader, mean, "You are shit, you are contemptible."
     Bush, oblivious to the meaning of the man's malice, joked about it.  The shoe thrower got beaten up and went to prison.  Bush returned to Washington, or Crawford, Texas, to take another vacation.
     The problem with yelling at politicians is similar to the problem of trying to talk to them.  Even reasonable, polite questioners won't necessarily get answers relevant to what they've asked.
Politicians' minds calculate angles as they talk:
     What shall I say to not offend that particular group which supports me with enough campaign cash to buy a portion of the next election?
     Jeb Bush asked himself this while trying to sound compassionate discussing the latest mass shooting at a community college in Oregon.  Not wanting to offend the National Rifle Association's sociopathic leadership, Bush took a typical Republican tack on the subject, simultaneously sounding prim by not using the expression as it's usually spoken:
     "Stuff happens."
     He meant "Shit happens," but if he'd said that, I guess he would've sounded insensitive.
     Yes, former Governor Bush, the young students shot to death by a white man with a collection of automatic weapons so numerous they were hardly needed for defensive purposes, had families and friends who can now comfort themselves with your words, "Stuff happens," when they vote in the Oregon primary, fuck you.
     Do I want to yell at a politician?  No.  I don't even want to be near them.

                                                                         Vic Neptune