Screw you, Ferguson. I say it with love.
Screw you to everyone participating in this violent screaming match. You've embarrassed your community, the St. Louis Metropolitan area, the State of Missouri, and the nation.
Screw you to Ferguson citizen protesters. You've rioted, burned down buildings in your own community, and thrown bottles and rocks and whatever else at the police. And not just a screw you to the extraordinary small number of protesters engaged in violence, but screw you to all those calling for a predetermined resolution rather than justice, and those demanding Darren Wilson's arrest whether legally warranted or not. It's a modern day lynch mob.
Screw you to the police and government officials. After Michael Brown was shot, you left him lying in the street for hours, and then responded to initial unrest with tanks and armament that would be the envy of any 3rd world dictator. And not just a screw you to the small number of police officers who engage in illegal conduct that deprives people of their basic rights, but screw you to so many others who bully citizens the second they question your authority, and those of you who look the other direction or make excuses when you see it happen.
Watching both sides of the mess you've created for yourself is like watching one of those toxic couples we all encounter from time to time. Both parties are so dysfunctional that the relationship is a spiral of despair. Sometimes, one's reaction is to try to help them both see where they can change and make things better. Eventually, though, someone has to say, "You know what? Screw you both. I'm tired of watching you do this to each other, and I'm walking away."
Right now there are a lot of people cheering you on an encouraging you. "Let's try to make something positive out of this," they say. Maybe they're right, and I applaud them for being willing, on the surface at least, to join in and try to help facilitate the healing process.
Count me out. Kumbaya from Jay Nixon and Barack Obama is all well and good, but sitting Indian-style around a campfire isn't any fun when one side is throwing molotov cocktails and the other one throwing tear gas and flash grenades.
I have a life to live, Ferguson. I can't force you to love one another. You'll have to learn how to get along yourselves.
It's my sincerest hope that one day you can get it together and that maybe we could even become friends.
In the meantime, to both sides in this saga, all I can say is that you deserve each other.