In case you're confused about where I stand on Iraq: I'm against the war. I'm against the Bush administration on a lot of things, and have been since well before George II was elected (yes, he was elected. Sure, it was a less-than-mandate election, to be sure, by Electoral College majority, as certified by the Supreme Court. But he was elected. Gore supporters, get over it–there's a better use of your energy.)

I do not count myself, however, among the traditional liberal left (My politics are a bit more complex than that). And ever since I was in college, as a Navy ROTC midshipman on a campus dominated by left-wing politically correct hit squads (remember the mid-80's?) I have had little tolerance for protest as performance art.

There was a group at the University of Wisconsin that called itself the Nu Parable Dance Troupe (that's Nu, as in Nuclear). They liked to gather in a public space and do “die-ins”, like they were the victim of a nuclear attack because of the unwise policies of the Reagan administration. Once, during the National Anthem of a nationally-televised football game, they ran out onto the field toward the Navy ROTC color guard and “died” (not knowing that the TV coverage had cut away for a commercial). One of them tried to grab the flag as he “died” and pull it down with him.

It wasn't pretty. I believe a classmate of mine on the color guard gave him a quick butt-strike with his parade M-1. The football crowd was not impressed with their performance; none of them even knew what they were supposed to be doing, or protesting for that matter. It was a classic Spartacus Youth moment.

Now, there are idjits “dying” on the streets of New York. Okay, it's direct action. Big whoop. But it just trivializes the whole anti-war effort, because it creates an opportunity for ridicule.

Want to get their attention? Go douse yourself with gasoline on the steps of the Pentagon and light a match–it's more effective and makes better television.

Stanley Kutler noted in the Chicago Tribune a week ago that the Bush administration's efforts to quelch dissent bear similarity to the efforts of past presidents throughout history. And he presents one particular act of dissidence that is particularly relavent today:

Challenging President James Polk's dubious response to alleged Mexican aggression against the United States, Congressman Lincoln voted to censure the president in 1848–while the war against Mexico still raged. He contended that the president's justification for war was “from beginning to end the sheerest deception.” Polk would have “gone further with his proof if it had not been for the small matter that the truth would not permit him.” Lincoln threw down the gauntlet: “Let him answer fully, fairly and candidly. Let him answer with facts and not with arguments. … Let him attempt no evasion, no equivocation.” Lincoln more than suspected that the president was “deeply conscious of being in the wrong.”