I’ve known plenty of 
but when it comes to being scratched about it, it has to be my old neighbor that lived just down the road at the intersection, one of the first to buy (and performatively loop around the neighborhood with) a Te$la.
I had the misfortune of running into him at the bookstore, and he had this sort of eager “oh boy I’m going to blow your mind” look on his face as he saw me at the tables by the obligatory coffee shop inside.
“Isn’t it insane what’s happening out there?”
“What?”
“The looney left! They’re out of control! I mean… you know it’s bad when the most philanthropic human on the planet says they’re out of control.”
“Oh…”
“Yeah that’s right! ELO~N has to take a stand or no one will! I don’t want to be stuck living in a mud hut just so I don’t hurt someone’s feelings!”
“Oh it’s your turn. She’s trying to take your order.”
I had someone tell me that I am not voting for Kamala Harris because
thankfully I’m not AmericanI don’t care about politics and I’ve led a comfortable life free from hardship and marginalisation.Wanna know my lore? [CW: child abuse, animal abuse, violence etc. ahead]
I grew up poor. Never poor enough that I didn’t have shoes on my feet or food in my stomach but enough that keeping the house at a comfortable temperature was often a luxury.
I’m queer. My dad is a violent homophobe who used to be part of a neo-Nazi street gang that would beat up gay men for sport in his younger years. You better believe that he would grill me and conduct minor inquisitions to “ensure” that I wasn’t gay. He used to be addicted to heroin and as a young person would torture animals for fun. He also came close to some big charges for violence later in life. So, zero empathy to speak of with this character. If that’s painting a very particular picture then yeah.
Suffice it to say that it wasn’t a peaceful household I grew up in and it wasn’t a safe one either.
As for my mum, being married to someone like that, you’d have to be pretty messed up and that was certainly the case for her who very much has an undiagnosed personality disorder. There was low-moderate grade medical abuse coming from that side of the nuclear family. Never enough to be at that threshold for direct outside intervention but definitely enough that it wasn’t just a few little whoopsies which happened over the years either.
On top of this I went undiagnosed for ADHD and autism for all of my childhood, well into my adulthood, and I’ve had to become my own case manager and advocate and (if you’ve ever seen me post about medical stuff then you’re probably already aware) my own armchair physician too. Autistic monotropism has its perks, I suppose. I got dealt a pretty bad hand but I’m extremely fortunate that one of the cards I got dealt was to be intelligent because that’s been just about my only saving grace.
I had a very-near miss with homelessness not too long ago as well.
I’m not trying to make this a pity party or anything but I’m just illustrating that my life has been an ongoing struggle and to tell the kid who grew up with the very real prospect of either facing homelessness, as the good outcome, or the credible threat of being provided a swift dirt nap if their dad ever found out about their sexuality that they have lived a cushy life free from marginalisation and oppression which is why they don’t take politics seriously… that’s pretty absurd.
The instinctive urge for this scratched liberal to immediately presume that because I’m not Blue MAGA that therefore I’ve never done it tough is kinda wild because it was an attempt to strip me of my identity and to deny the struggles I have faced. Their ability to empathise or even just to listen short circuited the moment that they deemed me guilty of the highest treason, of holding a differing opinion.
This sort of dehumanisation and vilification of a person simply because they don’t agree with your particular brand of politics is peak-scratched liberal imo.