OPINION: Cheer for your candidates, but don’t commit crimes for them

Dang, look at the time! You can count on your fingers and toes how many days until the presidential election. (Except for Cousin Festus, who lost a few fingers when the meth lab exploded.)

Supporting your preferred candidates is healthy, just like cheering for your favorite sports team. In some cases, that competitive spirit –– that desperate will to win –– morphs into felony crime and that’s when things get serious for those who cross the line.

One of our former presidents keeps babbling about a “rigged” election four years ago, but when it’s time to put hard evidence before a court –– well, there is a lot of talk but no evidence. Dozens and dozens of courts around the country have dismissed his specious claims because they lack merit.

That’s not to say no one has faced legal consequences for breaking the law in the run-up to and aftermath of the 2020 presidential election. Some of them are pretty high up the political food chain (looking at you Rudy Guliani, Steve Bannon, Roger Stone and Michael Flynn), while others are regular folks like you and me.

You probably remember the QAnon Shaman, that bare-chested dude with a coyote-tail-and-bullhorn headdress who prowled the Capitol on Jan. 6 like a conquering druid. Of course you remember him! Who could forget that dude?

Well, Jacob Chansley had his 15 minutes of fame, and now he’s serving a 41-month prison sentence. The fact that he carried a spear into the building probably didn’t help his cause.

Roughly 140 police officers were assaulted on Jan. 6, and there’s a price to pay when you battle with cops. According to the U.S. Attorney’s Office for the District of Columbia, 749 scofflaws have been sentenced for their crimes that day; of those, 467 have been sentenced to prison.

Stewart Rhodes, founder of the Oath Keepers tin soldier brigade –– er, militia –– is in the early days of an 18-year prison sentence for seditious conspiracy that amounted to terrorism. Enrico Tarrio, leader of another tin soldier militia called the Proud Boys, is in the early days of a 22-year prison sentence for seditious conspiracy.

The moral of the story is that conspiracy theories, and the mayhem they sometimes generate, can have extremely serious consequences. Think about that if you’re tempted to start a ruckus when your favorite convicted felon fails to win the Nov. 5 election. Little people go to jail, too, and some of them lose their jobs.

Take Cuoy Griffin, a former county commissioner in New Mexico and co-founder of Cowboys for Trump. Because he participated in the Jan. 6 riot, Mr. Griffin has been barred for life from holding state or federal office. Yessir, the former Otero County commissioner clearly violated the 14th Amendment’s prohibition on public officials participating in insurrection or rebellion. Simply put, that’s an ejection seat from public office if you’ve sworn an oath to uphold the Constitution.

Want another sad story of partisan stupidity?

Earlier this month, the erstwhile clerk of Mesa County, Colo., got nine years in prison for tampering with voting machines in an attempt to show they had been used to rig the 2020 election. Before she was led away, Tina Peters had to sit through a blistering lecture from the judge about her repeated false claims and subsequent rise to celebrity among election deniers.

“You are no hero,” said Judge Matthew Barrett. “You abused your position and you are a charlatan.”

At the bottom of the political food chain are common citizens, most of whom accept election results graciously –– even when their candidates lose. Still, there are plenty of Neanderthals roaming the hills of the Palouse who are capable of harassing and threatening county election workers. Before they do, they should consider the consequences: 1) Harassment and threats won’t change the outcome of an election; and 2) There’s a good chance they will go to prison.

In rural communities such as ours, there is a finite supply of people willing to work for county election departments. Threatening or harassing behavior aimed at public servants is a bright red flag for prosecutors. Criminal convictions for this behavior are great opportunities for local judges to impose extraordinary prison sentences.

For those capable of anticipating the consequences of their actions, the message is clear: Civil society is fed up with your threats of violence.

Brock has been a Daily News columnist for more than 22 years. He has lived on the Palouse even longer.