The Viking and The Fool

“If one does not understand a person, one tends to regard him as a fool.”

-Carl Jung

 

 


Part of the fun of doing this project is starting with a blank notepad and throwing ideas down until I have something I can elaborate on. With the nation bracing for potential chaos, It could be a really easy time for someone as opinionated as me to write about the plethora of crazy events going on. The more I write the ideas down, the more important it becomes to pick the ones that matter to me.

 As always, I want to focus on something that bothers me deeply, but may not even be news in most people’s eyes. I want to talk about a rather infamous event from early on in the year. An event that invoked 25,000 Troops to feel the need to surround the US capital. But most importantly, I want to talk about one fur-wearing man that gave the entire event an iconic image. 


 

As you would expect, I am not going into this conversation without some sort of understanding of the events as they unfolded. What many of you don’t know is that I have been glued to current events in the past few years. Something about the chaos surrounding our last election cycle had me passionate about all of the craziness that surrounded the infamous debates between our two most recent candidates. Obviously, most of the country wanted nothing to do with the arguments, I was completely enamored with the chaos. After witnessing every speech I could, from every side I could find, I was able to have a clear grasp on what my values were going into the election cycle.  The weird part was watching the way both sides were portrayed by the corporate press,  this is when I really started to notice a massive imbalance in the treatment of both individuals.

While the president at the time would receive absurd questions like what is your stance on white supremacy, the up-and-coming candidate would then receive questions that were incredibly softball which never invoked any sort of the same aggression. This was a really strange way to have a fair representation of goals and aspirations. To me, it all felt rigged from the start. So as the deadline to decide our future loomed near, I became ever more cautious of what I was watching. When the vote tallied in favor of a new president, I really wasn’t too surprised. If anything I sort of expected that the power structures in place would welcome in someone who didn’t’ act like a bull in a China shop. All of the decisions as to whether or not there would be any challenge to the matter rested on what would happen on January 6th.

I remember speaking with friends about how cool it would be to get a ticket to DC to watch what I expected to be a monumental moment. Doing the number crunching on hotels, travel, and everything I would need to witness the possibility of a future where the common people finally got to speak. While I did not make the expenditure to travel, I was not going to miss a second of such an impactful event. SO January 5th I could barely sleep without the thoughts of how cool the next day was going to be.

The following morning, I rose early to ensure that I would have as many different ways I could keep track of everything going on. I counted 16 different windows I had open between 3 monitors all live streaming the event from different “independent journalists.” While I recognized a few of the names from the riots across the prior summer, most of these streams were quite new to me but appreciated nevertheless. While I did have tasks that needed to be accomplished that day, many of them were sidelined by the complete wonder I was experiencing watching so many people gather in our nation’s capital. To make sure their voices were heard. They all expected the same thing, for the Vice President to refuse to authorize the votes, and take the United States Government to court.

When it became clear that wasn’t going to happen, I could see waves of disappointment on the faces of thousands. I mean thousands, literally. Not hyperbole, but an accurate representation of the grief that many were not experiencing as they realized the entire event was for nothing. It wasn’t long before that frowny-faced crowd would start marching towards the capitol door like angry trick or treaters who felt slighted by a lack of candy. It was unbelievable to watch with my own eyes, like something out of a movie. As the crowd pushed past the small race-track-like security fence, it became clear that this was going to be too many people for any individual officer to handle.

At this point, both of my boys were as glued to the screen as I was. In hindsight, not the best thing for a 14-year-old to be focused on, but this was history. This was a moment that you can’t really live twice.

I remember scanning different streams trying to get an understanding of just how many people seemed angry or had tools and weapons that could be used to start something incredibly frightening. I remember chatting with my kids about the different costumes and regalia people had that signified what groups they were affiliated with. I remember laughing at how freaking cool the Viking Costumed man was with the bullhorn, bellowing lines such as “This is the people’s house.”

I remember my dad calling me asking me if I was watching this. The first time I realized that this wasn’t just me, that the entire nation was probably glued to this, but from different perspectives. I remember the nervousness in both of our voices because we saw people with weapons, we saw someone with what looked to be a guillotine outside on the lawn. We knew people were pissed, I mean they had just experienced an entire 4 years of being told they were deplorable. Yet for some reason, we also felt that if anything went down, there were enough people there with the decency to save lives rather than take lives or cause bodily harm.

We had no idea what was going to happen next. While I had personally witnessed some absolutely brutal experiences on these streams in the summer before, my belief was that this was a mostly conservative crowd. A crowd that generally would have a great deal more respect for the property and well-being of those around them. As the doors opened, dread set inside me deep. The feeling of being out of control as you watch what would likely become a train wreck. Paralyzed with fear, but unable to look away. 

But funny enough, as the protesters trickled in, you could see the sheer amazement on the faces of people as they looked around wondering how on earth they actually made it inside. None of them ever expected to make it this far. Watching live on camera as security guards nodded and shook hands with some of the protestors.

I watched as people went around the rope line respectfully, so as not to damage anything. While there were a few hooligans who caused a bit of ruckus, there was nothing that made me think this was an out-of-control event. Then there was a gunshot. I watched live as people rushed to the aid of an unnamed woman but never fought back or tried to burn down the door. Throughout the summer, the second someone escalated the violence, things got dark quickly. This was different, a woman was laying on the floor experiencing her last moments, as a man on the other side of the building had been sitting with his feet on the desk of a certain ill-famed politician.

Crowds have always bothered me throughout my life. I have never been comfortable being around that many strangers whose intentions are unclear. So, as I watched in bewilderment, I had a constant feeling of tension that it could get very dark very quickly. I was incredibly relieved when I heard the now infamous Viking on a bullhorn telling everyone to go home. A man who appeared like he would have been the first one to throw an ax was now trying to make sure nothing got any more chaotic than could be controlled. I remember my youngest thinking that guy was pretty cool because he wanted to make sure nobody was going to be hurt.

As the riot squads moved in and started pushing the crowd back, I watched as the closest thing these people would get to being understood was shoved out the door, onto the lawn, and to a safe perimeter so they could safely evacuate the “important people.”

After the dust settled, I went into the office to discuss how cool, but absolutely crazy the day had been. When I showed up and saw people circling around the tv. I noticed the story I witnessed was already different than the way the TV was showing. Insurrection. I knew then and there that talking about any of this in a positive light was going to be met with complete disdain and have me ejected from polite conversation

 

 

 

“Thinking is difficult, that’s why most people judge.”

-Carl Jung

 

 


Fast forward to now, to the entire point I am even detailing this crazy experience. Why would I bring this entire day up again and possibly attempt to defend any of these “horrific events.”

Well, that Viking-clad man has now been sentenced to 41 months of prison time, for being involved in the most “dangerous right-wing event” that the corporate press had ever feared. This came as no surprise to me until I read that he originally would have received 51 months, if not for the time he already served. Except there is a very dark caveat. His time served, was served in the most awful method we could conjure.



The man who simply believed that average people had the right to be heard, just spent 317 days in SOLITARY CONFINEMENT.

 

I don’t say these words lightly. Solitary confinement is absolute torture. Human beings are social creatures, and to sentence anyone to be completely alone is a crime I would not wish on even the most horrendous individuals. Nobody deserves to have their mind broken in that way. 

Since then, his lawyer has stated that Viking-man regrets his actions that day, He no longer wants anything to do with it, as he wants to focus on his own recovery instead. Of course, he now believes that what he did was wrong. He spent nearly a year alone, while some incredibly vile people repeated to him that these actions were to be condemned.

An autistic man, who used a bullhorn to reign-in people and keep everything civil, just had his mind broken by very powerful people, who believe that the right to assembly only should be defended if it is being used to burn down small businesses or harm members of ideologies in opposition to their own.

Something about this entire situation shakes me deep in my soul. Even writing this all down is a bit nerve-wracking, because writing what I believe, could possibly take me out of the polite conversation. It could make it more difficult for myself, or my family to have any sort of credibility in the future.

I have thought about the things I am willing to discuss in this blog, and the dangers to my own cultural stability in the future, But that is a risk that I feel is necessary to take. Because I am more than happy to say that I respected that man. He tried to stand up to an absolute monolith. 

 

But of course, he’s a criminal because to try and stand up to very powerful people…

 

You would have to be a fool.

 

 

 

Thank you for reading

 

 

 

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