You all saw that whole business in Idaho where a woman was zip-tied and dragged out of a political town hall meeting by three burly men because she was heckling the speaker? Or “popping off with stupid remarks,” as the moderator put it. It was a public event, also known as a “private event,” according to the sheriff, who told her to leave. She didn’t, and the goons materialized.

Even if you hate when people shout over each other, or disrupt a speaker, and even if you don’t really care what happens to mouthy lefty broads, and even if you don’t suspect a hint of misogyny here, there’s something about this you should care about. The men who dragged her out of the room for popping off, directed by Sheriff Snowflake, had no identifying insignia of authority. Not even a jacket stamped SECURITY. Nothing. Which is not legal.

The chairman of the hosting Kootenai County Republican Central Committee was asked whether they had hired the security guards. He was not quite willing to own that. “Yeah, they volunteered,” he shrugged. “They’re known in the community, and we said, uh, we need some security, and they said ‘Oh, we’ll help out.’”

Yeah, that’s right. Volunteers. It’s the Jim Cro-Magnon Security Agency. If that doesn’t chill your American soul, your history books were sanitized. And don’t imagine for a moment that silencing and erasing a woman didn’t give them a mass boner.

But I’ll tell you what. All of this makes me want to go disrupt something. Go make myself so obnoxious they’ll have to drag my sorry old ass out of the building. Get that on tape, please, the forcible removal of the little old lady. Get a closeup of the thin old-lady skin being scraped along the skeezy carpeting, get the money shot of the old-lady panties billowing out above the pants as they hike up my shirt. I’m willing to take the hit. I look the part, but I’m not a bit fragile and my bone density is stellar.

I just have to find a Republican town hall event that hasn’t been canceled yet, due to a sudden outbreak of paying-attention among the electorate, and I might have to travel. Eastern Oregon maybe, or as they prefer, Western Idaho.

And I’d have some questions for the Citizen Rent-a-Nazis. Hello, boys! Little old lady here. No need to know my name. We’re all the same to you anyway. But listen up:

I can parallel park, keep a map in my head, pop a clutch, and sleep in the woods without a gun. I can make do. I grew up licking the sugar off the Juicy Fruit wrapper. I’ve had mumps, chicken pox, and measles (red and German). I grew up without child-proofing, when safety belts didn’t exist, and dogs ran wild in packs. I’m not afraid of immigrants, queers, vaccines, town hall disrupters, death, or leaving my cell phone at home.

I’ve had almost 500 periods in my life, any one of which would have made you junk monkeys call in sick to work, stone cold sober this time. Most of the women in this room have pushed a human being out of their bodies at least once, and you have to spend fifteen minutes on the toilet in the morning. You and your little proud-boy sperms might try giving childbirth a whirl yourselves before you start forcing grown women to do the same. Which is what our friend in Idaho was being disruptive about.

And I don’t need freedom of speech lessons from people trying to shut down the free press and burn books and strip the history out of our history texts. And I definitely don’t need them from the West Wing of the Kremlin.