I’ve never been much of a tribalist or a joiner, and I have no use for conformity of thought or dress. Unless it’s Halloween or a costume party, I don’t like playing dress-up. Nor do I want to be part of a group where people might think I accidentally left my pussy hat at home. When I see a bunch of white kids wearing kaffiyehs, I can’t help wondering what ever happened to the whole anti-cultural-appropriation thing.

When someone drones on about solidarity, all I hear is, “Get in line.” When there’s no room for dissent from the dissent, there’s no room for me.

Color me an anti-fan of performative politics, particularly if it means I’d be part of the show that features bigots posing as bleeding hearts...

Every time someone at one of those encampments cried out, “Free Palestine,” I’d be tempted to yell “From Hamas!”