I watched people burn books

I've been having trouble thinking of what to write lately, but now I know what to write about.

http://www.cnn.com/2009/US/07/22/wisconsin.book.row/index.html

These people want to burn books, because they talk about sex and homosexuality. I don't have a lot to say about that, there's not much to say. What honestly scares me is the book burning part. I used to laugh at that idea, a lot, but not any more. You see, book burning used to be a historic thing to me, something you read about in books and go 'ugh, why?' I never understood this, why people would be so scared of knowledge and expression. My mother taught me from a young age that books are great, I was taught to read and write early because of this, and book readings were a family activity. I always loved that, because those books opened so many doors for me. Because of this, the idea of burning those wonderful things was just alien to me, it was something we did when we thought that the sun orbited the earth and all, or it was a tool of dictators to keep populations ignorant. The idea of a modern, first world, nation doing it was just insane to me, so I laughed about it, thinking it was all one big joke.

Then my friend showed me a flier for a Harry Potter book burning while in Kerrville. We laughed about it, then decided to go see it. I honestly expected a joke, I expected to get there and there would be some guy going "haha gotcha! Come on where the hell are we, Afghanistan?" But we got there and there were people already there, some had just a few books and games and such, some had wagons full. These people bought the books, gave the writer money, just to burn them, some were still in plastic wrap unopened. A bit in there was a big pile of sticks, like bonfires me and my buddies made some times, it was surreal to see something I associate with relaxing with some illegally bought booze on a river or something about to be used for something so...insane. People kept showing up, it wasn't just a handful of people, it was a big group, it was, I dare say, a party.

As the sun was setting, an old man began calming the crowd, obviously the guy who organized this. He was a very stereotypical looking southern preacher man, old, fat, snow white hair, and a giant grin on his face. The worst part was that it wasn't a fake grin that you normally see, it wasn't a 'oh god another damn cake walk...' grin, he was happy, really happy. That made it feel almost personal, this man, this toad of a man, was getting real pleasure out of destroying things I loved. Mind you, on Harry Potter I'm rather neutral, it's pretty good, but it's far from a passion, but the very idea of burning books because you were scared of them made me suddenly care so much more.

Then they lit the fire, and started throwing on books, no reason even given, the preacher was shouting about how he was sending them back to hell and such, but no one was really giving a reason, no one said what page had the super secret Satan Spell, no one said anything that wasn't just affirming the preacher. I kinda hoped it'd be over, then, when the last book was on, I thought they'd just smirk and walk off self satisfied, but no, this was just the beginning. There was clapping and praying and dancing, there were shouts and calls to heaven, it was all so...primal. There was food, it just kinda appeared, cookies, brownies, sandwiches, and punch. People sat around eating it, enjoying themselves as books burned, the air stank, plastic and ink burning, the people were happy though. It was surreal, still, someone, and old goblin looking man asked what brought me here and my friend quickly answered that we were just there to celebrate with them. What scared me was how...happy they all were. I expected rage, I expected hateful accusations, but no, they were happy. I hated them, every one of them, they were partying while books burned, it was almost personal again, it was like they stole those books from me to burn. They were stealing these books from others, though, buying them in bulk to keep them from others, it was hateful, it was greedy, it was gluttonous, but none of that mattered to them.

I got to talk to the preacher there, no introductions, I didn't want to know his name. He welcomed us and told me he was so glad the turnout was good. We made awkward small talk, he asked me what my favorite book of the bible was, it felt like a trap, so I just said Genesis because it was the beginning. We kinda shuffled away after that, people were still eating and celebrating, but we were done. We got in the car and just went away after that. It felt unreal, like I was in a dream, I was abducted by aliens or something, that must have been it, aliens got me and I visited their backwards planet, and soon I'd wake up in my bed and it'd be a funny story.

I didn't wake up though, we got back, kinda laughed for a bit, then walked to our dorms. It was so strange to me to realize that was a real thing I saw, and it honestly took me a bit to really get it. I was seeing pure fear, unbridled fear from them. Fear has two ways of showing, one, the funny image of a crazy old man running away from a book screaming, the other is what I saw. It was primal, it was tribal, but it was all they could do. I don't hate them any more, I feel sorry for them. This is the last act of fear, they see what they don't get and then panic, and burn it, it's a cave man emotion. They can't do anything but this, and while it's sickening to see, it's also really sad at the core. I feel sorry for these people because they've reverted to this out of desperation, they can't change anything so they just try to tear it down, not understanding that all they're doing is giving more money to what they hate. It used to be strange, it used to be funny, it used to be enraging, but now, now it's just sad.