Florida Threatens to Kill Violent Protestors
(If subtlety were a class, the Sunshine State skipped it to set off fireworks in the parking lot)
I’ve called New York City, Los Angeles, and Paris (briefly) home, but I spent the better part of my childhood in Florida. It’s a quirky stretch of turf, home to both the Salvador Dalí Museum and the Skunk Ape Research Headquarters, and affectionately known as God’s Waiting Room, Swamp Vegas, Spring Break Purgatory, the Gunshine State, and—my favorite—Floriduh. (If it’s stupid and it made the news, odds are it happened in The Peninsula of Poor Decisions.)
Florida isn’t just a state—it’s a parallel universe where alligators get stuck in your lawn chairs, sinkholes are blamed on iguanas, and your parents use natural disasters as an excuse to host drunken adult sleepovers that might last for days. (To young Jenna, the word hurricane wasn’t a noun; it was an adjective used to modify party.) It's the only place on earth where it’s totally normal to see someone buying fireworks, boiled peanuts, and a live python at the same gas station—shirtless at 3 a.m. It’s where laws of nature get bent, laws of man don’t apply, and owning an emotional support honey possum is perfectly legal (no permit required!).
Related true story: When I was in fifth grade, my cousin Eric caught a baby alligator in his backyard. (He lived on the river, where I learned to waterski. Surrounded by alligators. “What about the gators?” I asked my dad. “Don’t fall!” was his reply.) Eric was older than me and went to a different school, but he stuffed that thing in a giant trash can and brought it to my classroom so I could parade it around for show-and-tell. For a brief, glorious moment, I was the coolest girl in that school.
That’s peak Florida, right there.
To my knowledge there’s no Massachusetts Man (or Wyoming Woman) game, but if you’re from south-of-Dixie, you’re fluent in Florida Man. For newbies, Florida Man is simple: type “Florida Man” plus your birthday into the Google search bar and see what headline pops up first. Spoiler: it’s always something like “Florida Man Stabs Roommate Over Toaster Strudel” or “Florida Man Chows Down on Cheesecake in his Underwear in the Middle of the Everglades”.
Here’s mine:
Given this contextual background, you likely won’t be at all surprised by yesterday’s press conference held by Florida’s Brevard County Sheriff, Wayne Ivey, aimed at preempting any shenanigans should Saturday’s “peaceful protests” turn violent. It might be the very best thing I’ve seen on the internet all year.
“If you resist lawful orders, you’re going to jail,” Ivey explained. “If you block an intersection or a roadway, you’re going to jail. If you flee arrest, you’re going to go to jail tired, because we’re going to run you down and put you in jail.
“If you try to mob rule a car in Brevard County, gathering around it, refusing to let the driver leave in our county, you’re most likely going to get run over and dragged across the street.
“If you spit on us, you’re going to the hospital and then jail. If you hit one of us, you’re going to the hospital and jail, and most likely getting bitten by one of our big, beautiful dogs that we have here. If you throw a brick, a fire bomb, or point a gun at one of our deputies, we will be notifying your family where to collect your remains at. Because we will kill you graveyard-dead. We’re not going to play.”
[*races to add graveyard-dead to list of legendary zingers]
Ivey’s comments followed similar remarks by Governor Ron DeSantis, who basically gave Floridians the green light to run over protesters blocking roadways if they feel threatened.
“If you’re driving on one of those streets and a mob comes and surrounds your vehicle and threatens you, you have a right to flee for your safety, and so if you drive off and you hit one of these people, that’s their fault for impinging on you,” DeSantis said. “You have a right to defend yourself in Florida.”
Obviously I do not condone violence of any sort. I’m genuinely anxious about this upcoming weekend and the inevitable carnage that will ensue. I think there are way too many folks out there—on both sides—who are wound up like watches and itching for any excuse to partake in a nationwide bar brawl. I’m just saying, you’ve got to respect a state that treats civil unrest like a speed bump on the way to the Waffle House. Unlike California, which is currently suing the adults who are trying to break up the fight, Florida doesn’t engage in frivolous litigation or snivel about overreach. It looks you dead in the eye and says, “We don’t press charges, we dig holes.”
LMK what you think, and stay safe out there this Saturday (and always), fam!
OH AND HAPPY DAD’S DAY WEEKEND!
Here’s to all the men out there still being men and modeling courage, strength, grit, integrity, and general badassery. I hope your Sunday is filled with family, fishing, beer, sportsball, lobster, laughter, or whatever it is you love the very most. XOXO
As I see it, someone has to find a way to sideline the shock troop loons in the Democrat party and Florida looks like it has the answer. I’m tired of coddling them.
Love me some Wayne Ivey and Grady Judd!