Several years ago a family of JWs drove up and sent their twin teenage boys up to evangelize me. I cut to the chase, as I always do, by asking them if the world ended in 1914, 1925, or 1975 and where the Bible states that Jesus Christ is St. Michael the Archangel. They had absolutely no clue.
"Well," I said, "can't you at least tell me that Michael is Hebrew for 'like God' and since you think Jesus is NOT God but merely like God, then He must be Michael?" Blank stares. It was clear that I knew much more about Watchtower Apologetics than these callow sprouts (Yeah, yeah, I know, I have TOO MUCH time on my hands).
This made me angry, and so I started yelling, "Look, if you're going to pitch your bullshit, then you could at least know something about it." The boys immediately scurried down the steps as I worked myself into a frenzy. "What? You think I'm stupid? You'll think I'll just be won over by the innocence of youth? Fuck that. If youth is stupid, then innocence is not worth a rat's ass."
Then the father got out of the family's Suburban Assault Vehicle and told me to calm down. That just provoked my inner Libertarian (every one has one--except, perhaps, Elizabeth Stoker Brünig), and my voice got louder, my waist line got wider, and my cotton jeans became polyester.
No, I didn't scream, "Get off my lawn," (they weren't on my lawn, anyway) but did say in the loudest volume yet, "This is my fucking property. You don't tell me to calm down. You got that?"
Thereupon, the father announced that he was calling the police.
"What? Are you fucking insane?" I shrieked, "There is no fucking law against telling Jehovah Witnesses on one's own property to piss off ." The boys having long since climbed back into the SAV, the father got back behind the wheel, slammed the door, and sped off. Sometimes being a Libertarian is oodles of fun.