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I took a little breather from the Messy Desk over the past few months. Lots of changes in my life; new job(s), kids off to school, working on books three and four, trying to get my second through editing. Just a lot converging and frankly, I missed it quite a bit.

It's been fun.....

It’s been fun…..

I didn’t miss, however, the negativity that comes with putting yourself out there. Not everyone will share your opinion in the world and it takes skin much thicker than mine I guess. And frankly, I’m not into confrontation. So be it.

But the trend during this political season had me startled. And I’m going to take a serious pounding here and place the blame squarely on you of the liberal persuasion. Sorry, I know you get all pissy with the “broad brush” examples and all. And yes, there are fringe douche-nozzles on each side of the spectrum that make us all look bad. That kind of crap I expect. But I never, ever, expected the unbridled hate that was directed to me from people who I truly assumed were, and indeed, I called my friends. Some of you may recognize yourself here. I trust given your recent behaviors, quite a few of you will never admit to it. Again, so be it.

You can be one of those people who have thousands of followers on twitter; hundreds of friends on Facebook. I’m not quite sure how that works, not sure of the value other than that you have found some measure of validation, some way to massage a flagging ego. I look at friends differently. Emotionally. As a personal investment. If I call you my friend, you have had some measure of impact upon my life, brought some value to it in some way. I may not have impacted you one iota. That’s fine. But since I considered you my friend, you always had my respect, your opinion was valuable and sharing your experiences with me gave me a broader horizon than I would have ever been able to attain on my own.

In fairness, it really started well before this political season. Maybe it was just awareness on my part, an awakening perhaps. Or maybe, I was just finally getting fed up with your bullshit. I started to go over conversations we had had, over and over, trying to discover what inopportune thing I might have said, some thought poorly expressed that would cause you to go into personal-attack warrior mode. I never ascribed it to your political ideology. I always assumed some flaw on my part, even though I never attacked you the way you attacked me. And as always, I was the one who wanted to breach the impasse, allowing your insult to go by un-challenged, putting it off to a “bad day”, or maybe I caught you at the wrong time or some other rationale to cover for your boorish behavior. As a friend, you were more important to me than my ego. I must have said something that pissed you off. What was it?

Turns out, it wasn’t anything I said at all. It is, after all, my unwillingness to bow to your whims, to see it your way. If I wasn’t going to agree with you on every issue, you had absolutely no desire to have me as your friend. Sometimes I’m a little slow on the uptake. But thanks to your constant reminders and reinforcements of late, it has finally dawned on me that I’m not the kind of person you would ever wish to be associated with again. Clarity.

The first inkling was when Obama was running for the first time. I just couldn’t get you to understand that I didn’t think I was greedy for wanting the government to stop taking a larger and larger share of what I earned. Simple. I think I called it “government approved theft.” You on the other hand, felt that not only was I greedy, I hated people who were less fortunate than I was. First implication: I want to keep more of what I earn, ergo; I hate poor people. Yay for you, point scored.

It wasn’t long before I was discussing Obamacare, probably around the same time frame. I was warning about the dangers of a single-payer system, having friends and family who live under it in other parts of the world. No matter; again, I was informed that I hate poor people. I just can’t stand to see them get something I have. I was still trying to digest that statement when you told me what my real problem was; I just want to see Obama fail because it really drives me nuts to see a black man in the White House. You caught yourself when I sent daggers. Well, maybe not me specifically you relented, but a lot of people who think the way I do. Yeah, that really cleared it up for me. And you said it with no hesitation, no remorse and no apology.

And so on it went. When I would disagree over issues with friends who actually shared my values, we’d get heated and say something like, “man you just don’t get it! Somebody hit you with a stupid-stick?” Then we’d chuckle a little, agree to disagree, open a bottle of something cheap and talk about kids, our jobs or the Patriots. Not so with my friends on the opposite side of the political spectrum. With them, it was never about a common understanding, it was always about my penchant to hate, well, apparently everyone.

I had a chance to talk to another old liberal friend about abortion. It was just as disheartening. Coincidentally, I’m on the outs with my conservative readers over my stance on abortion. That’s okay, I’m not doing any better with those on the left. “Sorry,” I told my friend, “I just don’t see in the constitution where it says “A woman’s right to scrape her unborn child from her womb shall not be infringed.”” I believe its a states’ right, not a federal issue and at the end of the day, I have no desire to pay for a woman to do what I fundamentally believe is murdering her own child. Take me out of the equation, pay for your own abortions and you and I will be just fine.

Well, maybe not just fine. Her defense of her position had to do with how misogynistic my positon was, and something about how the need to control all women makes me feel superior while strong, independent women threaten my maleness. I think I drove her apoplectic when I told her that strong, independent women could find the money to kill their own children without involving me, thank you very much. I am heartless. I am dangerous to all women and all they have worked to achieve over the last thirty years. It’s men like me who want to push women back into the kitchens and then out into the back alleys. Really. That’s how she defended her position on abortion, how she was going to persuade me to see her view; by telling me how much I hate my wife, sisters, mother and daughters.

Fast forward. Having spent many years following the exploits of the Clintons, I wasn’t surprised by any of the email or Clinton foundation scandals. I wasn’t going to support her come hell or high-water anyway. And it made absolutely no difference who I would have named as my candidate, you had no desire to win me over; no, you were vested only in silencing me. Once you defined me as racist, bigoted, misogynist, a Nazi, homophobic, Islamophobic, transphobic, e-i-e-i-o, you never needed to defend your positon at all. And yet, I never even told you who I was supporting, only who I wasn’t.

Maybe I was going to vote for the republican candidate of color. Except, we know he’s really not a black man because, according to you and your party, color is subjective and one must subscribe to a certain orthodoxy to be legitimately considered black; you know, that specific set of beliefs that all black people must believe in. All blacks. Every. Single. One.

I may very well have been thinking about the republican Latino candidate. Maybe not authentic Latino enough for your taste? Too legal, too documented?

I really considered the female republican candidate. Of course, she’s not really female. I doubt she even has a vagina. She’s not down with the whole abortion thing so we know she’s not a real female. No, the left wouldn’t let her into the “strong, independent female club,” even if she stood in the middle of a ladies’ restroom at the local Target and said she identified as one. No; strong, independent women only come from the Liberal side of the aisle, where they complain about being given the same chance as the boys, but fall back to helpless damsels in distress to demand that the requirements be lowered for the sake of equality.

You based your hate filled diatribes only on the fact that I wasn’t going to support your candidate. No, not the old white male candidate your party offered up in its great diversity of choices; the old white female one. You know, the one who destroyed evidence that was under subpoena; who giggled about setting free the rapist of a 12-year old girl; who destroyed the lives and reputations of some strong, independent women, tramps and sluts one and all, who just happened to have been sexually assaulted by her husband; who worked with the DNC to make sure she would have no real challengers in her primary, selected not elected; and who lied to you, to your face, about every bit of it.

So here we are. The 45th president of this great experiment in self-governance is Mr. Trump. And you’ve made it abundantly clear that anyone who supported him, willingly or as the lessor of two evils, is racist, homophobic, Islamophobic, yaddi-yaddi-yadda. I went to bed early on election eve resigned to the fact that we would wake up with our first female president, a victory for vaginas everywhere. Apparently, Madonna didn’t have quite the appeal she imagined she had and lo and behold, I woke to the gnashing of teeth and claims of “whitelash.” And being the masochist I truly am, I fired up Facebook just to take a peek.

One acquaintance of mine posted that he was absolutely not going to continue a friendship with anyone who may have pulled the lever for the wishing troll. The responses he got were mixed; some were very supportive of his decision. Some were not. One individual, who apparently had been his friend for decades, was astounded that they would no longer be friends because he didn’t vote the way his tolerant friend had wished. He asked him, “are you seriously going to give up decade long friendships over this?” Sadly, the answer was yes. Well, a wishy-washy yes. It was okay if you didn’t pull the lever for the secretary of corruption, but if you voted for Donald Dump, well sorry; you’re not the kind of person with the kind of morals I can associate with. I stayed silent. You see, I’m fucking deplorable.

There are quite a few others posting similar things, people I know well and have for years; some I have known for shorter periods of time but are still people I find interesting. The common meme is if you voted for “him,” you’re a horrible person and they produce the same list of accusations defining just who you actually hate in case you may have forgotten.

So one would assume that I’m going to lose friends over this election. A shame really. In any event, I wish you and your loved ones a long, healthy, happy and prosperous life. I’ll miss what you brought to my life, the jokes, the difference of opinions and the other worldviews. But no, I won’t apologize; I won’t defend myself, for I have no reason to. And as you peel away the years of friendships and acquaintances you have gained over the years, you can settle back smugly into that safe little echo chamber where your definition of tolerance is everyone agreeing with you. Where you get to define freedom of speech as only speech you agree with, that doesn’t challenge you, force you to defend or rethink your positions. Where diversity means everyone is just like you and you get to dictate what it means to be black, female or moral. Where compromise means everyone gives into your beliefs and abandons their own.

One wonders; is discarding friends really that simple? Does it ever give you pause for introspection? After all, if you can disparage people without remorse, insult them that deeply and personally, what kind of friend have you really been to others? And when you’ve cleaned house, you do realize don’t you, that you’ll be left with people just like you; people who are willing to toss you from their lives if your opinion should deviate from theirs?

And so, I wish you the best. I’ll still be here, checking into Facebook every once in a while to see what your dog is doing, what flavor latte you had this morning, maybe chuckle at one of your jokes. I have no intention of un-friending anyone over this for two reasons; one, life is far too short and too random for me to assume I have all the answers. I rely on the viewpoints of my friends and acquaintances to help keep me grounded, educated and humble.

And secondly, I’m not quite sure how to un-friend anyone anyway and If I ask my daughter one more question about Facebook, she’ll un-friend me too.

 

 


The GOP elites, establishment as they’re known out here in “not-Washington DC,” told voters for years to hold their noses and unify around the nominee they gave us. For the good of the party, for the good of the country, you see. And we did; to no benefit at all to the voters who did so. It was however, of great benefit to those who chastised us for complaining about the nominee(s).  They kept their hold on power, even expanding it while giving lie to the promises they made to the millions of working stiffs who canvassed neighborhoods, made cold calls and gave meager donations from the household rainy day funds in the hopes that we could halt the progressive slide towards socialism and moral decay we were witnessing.  Even though they continued to look down upon those who pulled the lever in their favor, they assured us that the party needed to be open to everyone who held dear the common principles of the party, as tepid as they were in support of those very principles.  Principles that they were all too willing to abandon once they started to wander the halls of power and prestige, looking for the opportunity to trade the power delegated to them for their own personal gain. They gladly shook hands with those of the other party, and quickly gave away the hopes, efforts and passions of their constituents, playing nice so they could reap the rewards of being able to sell their influence at the expense of those who truly owned that power.  The big tent was actually the tent of snake-oil salesmen and we were duped by mere carnival barkers, the voters dutifully playing the role of P.T.Barnum’s suckers.

Tickets limted; see #nevetrump for details

Closing soon! Tickets limted; see #nevetrump for details

 

So now the tent is too crowded for them; they look upon the Trump voters with the same contempt they claimed to have had for their opposition. Reality happened to come along and poke them in the eye.  The party became too inclusive over night;  actually over the course of a very unconventional campaign season.  A season, you might remember, that was highlighted by the pledge to support the nominee, no matter who it might be, and to eschew the thought of the third party route for those who might just suffer from a bruised ego and seek vengeance on the party.  Of course, they were at that time, trying to contain the biggest ego on the stage, the one that sucked all air out of the room and wasn’t ashamed of his inability to practice the art of political correctness.  Assuming Trump would never energize the party, they wanted to ensure he could do no more damage once he was defeated; hence Mr. Priebus noted in the early days of the pledge that “I think everyone understands that if Hillary Clinton is going to get beat, she is going to get beat by a Republican and most people that run for president run to win. If our candidates want to win, then they will have to run as a Republican.”  It took some convincing Ol’ Donald; who knows what was agreed to.  But Preibus managed to get the Donald to sign the document in early September, after the other sixteen wannabees had done so.  Why would Trump give up his third-party leverage? Simple; because he intended to win.  Why did the other sixteen sign? Equally simple; because they didn’t think he would.  And like most of the promises the party leadership has made through the years, this one too, went by the wayside. Now, it’s all about #nevetrump.  Or as I like to call it, #yeahwe’refinewithhillary.

It’s rather amusing watching this all unfold as someone who is not a Trump supporter. Where was all this new-found party unity during the last few election cycles?  Just half of the effort directed at derailing Trump would have been quite useful against Obama.  Or, even now, directed at Hillary-the-Great.  Party be dammed, country be dammed, no matter what Priebus’s original disingenuous intent was, his statement still holds true;  beat Clinton with a republican.  He just managed to leave off the remainder of the sentence, the unspoken qualifier that we voters had seen put into practice before; our chosen nominee.

What troubles party elites the most about Trump might be several things. One, he brings the great unwashed into the tent.  A party that wants to increase its size and inclusiveness is certainly doing its best to alienate any of those nearly nine million votes Trump has garnered to date. He betters Mitten’s  vote count at this point by more than two  million. Of course, they all happen to be bigots, racists, low IQ, misogynists and a few Nazi’s sprinkled in for good measure.  The media says it; Democrats repeat it; the GOPe believes it; it must be true.

Secondly, Mr. Trump has reminded those in power just how they got there. And they don’t like it. Not just in the GOP mind you; party elites in the democrat party are doing their best to hide the growing contempt their voters have for their own prom queen. The realization that these usurpers in Washington may just have to answer to someone who doesn’t have a private jet or a zip code in Hollywood scares the living shit out of them.  As it should.  “Where the people fear their government, there is tyranny. Where the government fears the people, there is liberty.”  Of course, democrats don’t believe that one bit because it was uttered by on old dead white guy.  White, but dead, privilege you know.  The GOP doesn’t believe it because no one at the Chamber of Commerce told them to.

Those leading the GOP have no intention of going down without a fight. The years they spent alarming us about the democrats, and how the GOP could fix everything if we just voted for them, voted their way, has given us all the clarity that comes with hindsight. Conservatives and libertarians were never truly welcome in the party at all; the tent was zipped, no matter what they tell you. They did everything they could to keep us out and now have the audacity to warn us that Mr. Trump is certainly no conservative; as if that’s a great concern to those we elected whose first act was the omnibus, effectively funding everything we voted them in to stop.

So of course, now the cry is that a vote for Trump is a vote for the wife of Monica’s boyfriend. If true, then what is a vote “not for Trump?”  Their answer of course; voting for my conscience.  All of a sudden, those who told us for years that they would repeal Obamacare and build the wall, a wall they voted the funding for years ago, have a conscience.  Yes, they have a conscience the way “the Donald” has a filter.  Not so much.

More telling is that Mr. Trump has expanded the party, gaining cross-over voters as well as independents. We can’t all be racist can we? Or misogynists?  I’m quite sure I’ve seen ladies and blacks and even black ladies supporting him.  Howzat? He’s increasing not only the diversity and inclusiveness of the party; he has awoken a great number of people who have been fairly apolitical up to now.  People who want to take their power back from Washington, not necessarily people who agree with one another or even agree with Trump on all issues, except in that Washington is a failed state, filled with those who are only concerned with the welfare of their constituents when they need funding for their next election cycle.

As the GOP finally folds the tent, I’ll be mildly amused. I’m sure those who are firmly #nevertrump will be easily accepted into the democrat party for as long as that gig lasts.  And they’ll blend in very nicely too, most likely adopting the #neverbernie stance that will be required.  Hell, they’ll probably even sign a pledge supporting “Wall Street’s favorite Motivational Speaker.” Don’t think that those voters won’t remember your names. Then there’s speaker Ryan, who was probably just echoing what he’s been hearing since he took over his speakership role; the hue and cry from voters disappointed in his performance and his willingness to throw us under the bus, back the dam thing up and hit us again. Ironically, Ryan speaks about more than unifying; he talks about a dedication to conservative principles. Are you kidding us? You actually believe the things you’re saying, don’t you Paul? Mr. Speaker, you should heed your own advice.  Millions of people are supporting the man with the unruly hair; I doubt you could garner as much support.  Oops; sorry, I forgot, you were on the ticket with Mitt.  You probably already realized that for all his faults, it’s fairly likely that Donald is far more popular with the voters then you are. In fact Paul, it might just be time for you and Mitch to look into switching parties.  You know, your conscience and all?

I mean, now that the tent is coming down, you’ll need hawk your wares in front of someplace other than the tent of  “Trump’s Party of the Disaffected.” I hear Hillary is vetting VP’s.  There’s one born every minute…


You just gotta love Camille Paglia. Well, maybe not all the time, but her writing is succinct and well reasoned; even if you don’t agree with the central thesis of whatever piece you happen to be reading. I’m quite sure that as often as I’ve shaken my head in amazement at her stances, some of her liberal friends find themselves in the same boat. Her article from last Thursday is a great example of what I mean. I’m quite sure she’s pissed off more than a few of her fellow abortion rights comrades by highlighting their religious fervor towards the issue of abortion, much the same way the pro-choice movement derides those of a more traditional religious viewpoint. I’ll give her this much; she’s consistent and declares herself to be more courageous than her fellow abortion rights supporters who hide behind what she calls the “cowardly euphemism” term of “pro-choice.” Courageous indeed.

Been there, done that, got the T-shirt...

Been there, done that, got the T-shirt…

Paglia was writing about the unfortunate slip of the tongue of Hillary the Great, the anointed democrat nominee. (Can nominee and anointed be used in the same sentence?) Was Hillary trying to soften her abortion stance, hoping to move as far to the right as Bernie will allow her, or was this actually a deep rooted conviction from a woman who has really only shown a deep rooted conviction for anything that might benefit Hillary? Was Hillary simply confused when she referred to the fetus as an “unborn person,” quite possibly recalling her junior high school biology lessons where I and millions of other eager yet empty headed youngsters first learned that when a woman gets pregnant, she’s carrying a human child and not a puppy, a goldfish or a snail? How dare she humanize a fetus? Did she possibly search Webster’s online: “an unborn or unhatched vertebrate especially after attaining the basic structural plan of its kind; specifically :  a developing human from usually two months after conception to birth.” Say what you will, but I won’t be shaken from the certainty that you’re killing something that was always human. It’s biology you see.

It’s quite amazing, really, and somewhat depressing that young women are being taught that they’re not carrying anything that even remotely looks like their own baby pictures. If you don’t humanize it, it’s easier to kill it. And heaven forbid someone offers you a chance to look at the face of your “choice” via any type of ultra-sound so you can see just what you’re about to tear to pieces. What kind of idiot provides a woman with that kind of clarity? But hey, Hillary redeemed herself by assuring those so offended by the term “unborn person” (you know, a human child) that the unborn don’t have any constitutional rights anyway. So there.

Camille, Like Hillary, is quite sure that the execution of the unwanted gestating child is supported without restriction under the fourteenth amendment. And Camille does pat her self on the back quite often, proud that she has always been consistent with respect to the sanctity of life, and feels that her support of abortion on demand equals her support for the death penalty of those convicted of heinous crimes. She tells us that she feels that pro-choice Democrats have become “callous and extreme” about abortion. How you can, in the same breath, find that abortion is protected by the fourteenth amendment which gives equal protection to all persons under the law and then equate an innocent unborn person with a convicted murderer is beyond me. And to call others callous in the process. But such is the life of an ardent, courageous “pro-abortion supporter” I guess.

Troubling even more is that she glances over her support for Margaret Sanger, noting only in passing Sanger and Planned Parenthood’s origins promoting eugenics; she never mentions the fact that much of the purification of the gene pool was aimed at blacks. No, Camille became disillusioned over Planned Parenthood when she realized it became a “covert arm of the democrat party.” And leaves it at that. Not because Planned Parenthood and the democrat party are systematically killing unborn not-quite-human-victims, many of them black mind you, but because they are a “covert arm of the democrat party.” Which of course, is news to no one at all.

At least Camille points out that nature oppresses women in far greater ways than men do. But the left doesn’t quite go for biology; see the entry above from Webster’s. In fact, if they can’t find someone to blame, they can’t create more victims. Like Camille, I too consider myself quite libertarian, leaning more conservative. And yes, my own views on abortion frustrate the bejeebus out of everyone. Want to have an abortion? Go ahead. On your own dime. With your own child, not mine. Explain it to your God, or Gaia, or whatever you call your conscience, but leave me out hell out of it. I have no right to tell any woman who is not carrying my child what she has to do with her body. Sorry friends, I have always felt that way. I have no more right to control you than you have to control me. But that’s not good enough for second or third wave feminism. What was once a movement about reproductive rights became sex without consequence; the choice at the front end of the act de-coupled from the consequence of that “choice.” And somehow, you decided the government needs to get me involved. Either I pay for your abortion or pay for your offspring. I got just as sick of the feminist movement over abortion as Camille seems to be. And of course, I’m told I hate women because of it. Camille, you dammed misogynist. It appears that feminism was just a change in how women could fund their victimization due to the burden of pregnancy. Being supported by a man is heinous; having his financial support coerced from him and filtered through the government; a-okay.

It’s interesting to note that she brings up what she feels were the “flimsy and overblown” charges leveled against Clarence Thomas. Interesting in the fact that during the same period, many young men like myself were ardent supporters of equal opportunities for women; even though we were constantly subjected to harangues of how evil men were as we stood should to shoulder with those slinging these arrows. I was concerned for my sisters (biological!) and the future Ms. Messydesk and possible daughters. But I was raised to be considerate of women; yes we were taught to pull out the chairs at the table, open doors, give up our seats on the bus. And more often, I was looked upon with derision for those actions, even to the point of being publically berated on more than one occasion. Maybe it isn’t biology that second and third wavers were struggling with, maybe it was friggin’ manners. Who knows? But it became tedious. I would always be the enemy and they were dammed sure to let me know, no matter how many signs I held up side-by-side with them. Or maybe it was because I expected them to become truly self-sufficient. And called them on it.

To be consistent, Camille should also discuss, not only how feminism misses the point on the biology of women, but also how feminism has declared war on the biology of men. Fatherhood is a joke; a quaint but antiquated social construct. No need for a man to make a child anymore. A strong father figure in the home is a vanishing breed. Any of the adjectives once used to describe the rugged male individual that women used to long for and men wanted to be like were discarded long before the Marlboro man choked out his last cigarette. No, we were now being forced to take sensitivity classes, wear pregnancy suits for a whole day, quizzed by our prospective paramours on whether we are afraid to cry, told to be less introspective and more talkative and for god sakes, take off those sweats and put on some dammed skinny jeans. Emasculation of the American male is really the goal here. This is no longer about equal opportunity, to raise women to their potential. No, the gap between the sexes, regardless of the dictates of biology like muscle mass and bone structures, uteri or prostate glands, could only be diminished by disparaging those traits that made males uniquely, biologically male. From Marlboro man to pajama boy in less than a generation.

But it’s even worse for those runny-nosed little heathens, boys, dealing with that toxic soup of the evil testosterone while they try to sit still in class, dreaming of pulling on that mesmerizing, swaying pony tail at the desk ahead of them. Society now treats them as predators in waiting, busted for a simple hug or stolen kiss on the playground, labeling them as serial sex abusers long before they develop the slightest wisp of pubic hair. Great cottage industries have grow up around diagnosing little boys as damaged little girls who might just be saved if we drug the natural, biological tendencies out of them and exchange their Tonka trucks for Barbie’s dream corvette or pry GI Joe from their hands, replaced by any one of the My Little Ponies. We wonder why children are facing dilemmas about their sexuality in far greater numbers; because we can’t face biology and project our inability to come to grips with it upon those who are currently at that stage in their lives when it has the most emotional and physical impact. Why do we teach little girls to fear and hate little boys and little boys to hate themselves. Go ahead; deny it if it helps you sleep better at night. Maybe you’re courageous too, like Camille.

We’ll never settle the debate over abortion. Unfortunately, we’ll never even agree to disagree. Some of us believe life starts at conception. Others believe life begins when society decides it does. Like maybe when you make it home from the hospital. In any event, feminism has moved to a place where I can no longer recognize why I, as a male, believed in it so strongly when I was younger. I still believe my daughters should have every opportunity to try anything they are capable of. And I also believe that their success should not be predicated on the demonization of the other half of the species. Feminist can deny their biology all they’d like; to each his or her own. But the issue still remains that what I see as the brand of feminism displayed today is nothing more than vitriol, self-loathing and an intense feeling of, maybe a celebration of victimhood. And if abortion is their Holy Grail, we should also note that biology includes death; the death of over 50 million babies aborted since Roe V. Wade. Mom went to Planned Parenthood and only brought back a tee shirt.

So like Camille, I’ve become quite disillusioned with feminism. I will however leave you with one last comment. If you can celebrate the death of your unborn child, then struggling with biology is likely not the only thing we can’t agree to disagree on.


Thanks a bunch Reince; your little performance at the start of Thursday night’s debate surely must have healed the divisions and strife among the faithful of the party; those millions of GOPer’s sitting at home watching, probably hoping for another WWF battle royale. Your equivocation was likely lost on the vast majority too. Still, I seriously doubt that anyone outside of yourself and those handfuls of kingmakers in the party leadership believe a word of what you tried so earnestly to persuade them to swallow. You implored them all to believe that the party will rally around the nominee, whomever that would eventually be. You did fail to mention however, that you’re working like an insidious flesh eating bacteria, trying desperately to damage anyone the party elites do not prefer; so as long as your candidate gets the nomination, you’ll be one hundred percent supportive. Maybe you haven’t heard; you’re done. So is your party. It’s now about open rebellion; are you willing to drive this totally over the cliff, or are you going to listen to the will of the people and accept their final choice? Given the past failures of the party; thumbing their voters in the eye at every turn, it’s lack of leadership and willingness to dismiss the concerns and desires of its own constituents, voters are now willing to go it alone, to stand outside the well-defined, constricting definition of a party to finally claim the power that they have always owned, guaranteed to them by a constitution which the GOP no longer wishes to defend. You, Reince, have created a third party. It will swallow the GOP first; and the democrat party is next.

"It's my party and I'll cry if I want to.."

“It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to..”

While voters were coming out in record numbers this year, a real demonstration of the power vested in them by their constitution, GOP leaders were busily trying to find a path to make sure that the party leadership would still ultimately decide who that nominee would be. Will of the people, constitution be dammed. But hey, that’s okay too. It is after all, their party. They can pretty much do what they want. And I assume that being as myopic and narcissistic as they appear, they’ll slit their own throats this year and then turn around and blame the great unwashed for the blood on their own hands. The meeting at Park City Utah wasn’t a strategy session on how to take down the democrat challengers. And with all due respect to the Trump supporters, it wasn’t solely focused on him either. It was an admission by the party elites that they no longer have a brand that is supported by a majority of its members; a desperate attempt to formulate a strategy to regain control over the great unwashed. So if you’re a republican, you need to vote for party loyalty; good for the party. And it’s pretty handy too if they don’t tell you who to vote for but limit your choices. Same result. Makes you want run right out and send in that donation.

Well, at least they have principles that define the party, don’t they. Well, maybe. I haven’t seen them fight for any principles in years, but that’s what they tell us every cycle. The threat is always that “the other party” doesn’t stand for this or that, bedrock principles of the GOP that drive voters to the polls, only to have those principles tossed overboard as soon as the party elites are comfortably ensconced in the warm embrace of superpacs and wall street lobbyists. How obvious can you get? How many true conservatives were at the World Forum on Sea Island Georgia? Think Tim Cook is going to promote republican values? Gee, maybe Arthur Sulzberger was there to fill out a GOP application form. And for goodness sake, could someone please shove that little white board up Karl Rove’s ass?

The most amusing aspect of all this is the reaction from the other side. I have some seriously political friends on the opposite end of the spectrum and they’re poking me daily about how the “repuglicans” are blowing up, a party filled with hate, Nazi’s everyone one of us. All while they support a woman who should have been indicted long ago and a proud socialists who talks about the evils of Washington selling votes for favors even as he promises to rob Peter to pay for the vote of Paul. Go figure. Of course, the difference between a closet communist and a proud socialist is pretty narrow anyway. I think the proper phase is “what difference does it make.”

What the RNC is doing in broad daylight, the DNC has already accomplished; it’s just that the party faithful are either too complacent or too ignorant to notice. And the press, that siren call for all good propagandized democrats, is all too happy to ensure that the DNC party line is adhered to with quite a vengeance, simply by not pointing it out in the first place. Let’s just take a peek at little old Cow Hampshire. Eight of New Hampshire’s 32 delegates are super delegates. Governor Maggie and Senator Jeanne Shaheen are two of those super delegates. After the dust settled in the democrat primary, Bernie Sanders had managed to promise enough free stuff to voters to entice 60 percent of them to vote his way. A landslide for all intents and purposes. The DNC however, doesn’t quite see it that way. Both “Hilarious” and “feel the Bern of government theft” walked away with an equal number of delegates to date, at that time 15 each. Of course, being good little soldiers in the “party of the people,” Maggie and Jeanne are already pledged to Hilarious; their votes cancel out about 9,000 of the primary votes cast for the aging socialist from the far left-wing Sha’ar Ha’amakim kibbutz. Nice, neat, clean, simple. No messy brokered convention to worry about here. Same result; it doesn’t matter who you pick, they don’t really give a shit. After the contentious 1968 democrat convention, the DNC realized that it couldn’t allow its voters to choose the party nominee; this from the party which claims that republicans are trying to keep people from voting. What started with Humphrey in 1968 led to McGovern in 1972 and on to Carter in 1980. In 1982, your totally democratic democrat party settled on the super delegate system and since then the number of these delegates, free to vote however they see fit, has increased steadily from 1984 on.

It would appear then, that Messrs. Trump and Sanders have a real shot at transforming the political landscape albeit not so much for their policies, whether or not you consider them misguided if not outright dangerous. No, they have a chance to shake a complacent electorate out of its infantile stupor, possibly forcing voters to recognize that devotion to a party over country, a handout over your principles, is the quickest route to tyranny and a country that is bankrupt, financially and morally. It’s time to grow up America; this experiment in self-governance rests with you.

Are you finally willing to take responsibly for your own actions instead of voting for who you’re told to vote for, only to whine about the limited, miserable choices you were offered afterwards?

We overthrew one king; why would we allow others to choose our next? Oh yeah; for the good of the party.


So it would appear, at least according to Madam Albright, a great number of the women in New Hampshire went straight to hell last night. In hell and feeling the Bern, no doubt. Let’s do some very simple math; the aging socialist got sixty percent of the democrat vote last night; if we assume for the sake of brevity that half of those voting were women, well, that means that thirty percent of all of the women who voted the democrat ticket are now living in the zip code of Mephistopheles. And all this apparently, to meet some really hot hipster dudes who are also feeling the burn.

Listen closely and you'll hear Connie singing "where the boys are."

Listen closely and you’ll hear Connie singing “where the boys are.”

Puzzling to say the least; no, not the appeal of any one campaign or another. No, from the perspective of a man, I wonder just what the hell the message of feminism truly is. I can’t pin it down, but at least I can take comfort in the fact that it’s not just me; old Gloria and Madeline don’t seem to have it pegged either. I used to think that is was a rebuke of everything man-hood. At least that’s how it used to appear. Women wanted to be everything a man was; well at least all of the things that they thought were positive. They hated men because according to feminists, we “think with our dicks.” Fast forward. Now it’s important to think with your vagina. Used to be that feminists believed that sexualizing women was the worst trait in men. Fast forward. Now you can’t watch any one of the young ex-Disney performers without them showing off their assets. But that’s celebrated as empowerment. Honest ladies, I don’t peek though. So just who are they displaying their duck lips and enhanced pumpkin-shaped derrieres for? Strippers used to be denigrated by feminists. Now they give them Oscars and Grammy’s. Go figure.

 
If it’s all so confusing for the ladies, they should take a look at the men in their lives. Or if they don’t have a man, maybe it’s because we’re often not quite sure what you expect of us. Or even if you want us around at all. After all, we’re just as useless as bicycles to a fish. Well except for that “dying on foreign lands” thingy, and running into burning buildings and spiders in the tub. This goes beyond the “what do women want” meme. Want to be in combat? Okay, as long as you don’t have to meet those stringent requirements. Same goes for being a fireman or a cop. Then you’re all in. if I hadn’t registered for the draft, I wouldn’t have been allowed to get those wonderful college loans that Bernie’s supporters don’t want to have to pay. Oddly, my sister never had the same requirement. (Poor thing was just as saddled with them as all the rest of us..) Time to sign up for the draft, ladies. All things being equal and all.

 
Was feminism about their strength, their possibilities and the opportunities that women wanted? Why would women be told that a man in their life was that last thing they should need; that women can and should take care of themselves. Heaven forbid you try to pay for a lady’s dinner; how patronizing. Assuming she needs to be taken care of? Misogynist asshole. Heaven forbid you try not to pay for her abortion. Wait, what? Women don’t need a man to take care of them; they only need government to do so. Ah, women never said they don’t need a daddy. They just prefer a nameless faceless one, chosen by other women who get to define, randomly and inconsistently, just what the hell it means to be a woman. Literally. Just ask Glamour. They have it all figured out. Except I guess, that part about voting with your vagina.

 
Maybe it was all misread on my part. Why in the world would women want to become more like us, more like the dreaded man, what they had despised so much? After all, once you became that which you hated, would self-hate be far behind? Or was self-hate what drove you in that direction in the first place?

 
Feminism was merely a ploy to separate the sexes from one another in an attempt to build a voting coalition. Period. Go ahead and argue that point all you want, but I and a lot of other men my age spent most of our lives on the receiving end of hate directed towards our gender, often times for things we had never done. Well, I am truly sorry however, for giving you my seat on the bus and opening that door for you. My bad. Misandry is acceptable as a political tool; it does nothing as far as human relations between the sexes. But that’s okay, you don’t need us anyway. You’ve pretty much made that abundantly clear. Well, you need some of us, at least sometimes. You’re certainly willing to give ol’ billy-boy a sloppy knob if he promises to vote the way you want him to. Trading sexual favors? Thought that was demeaning. Feminism is all about situational ethics. Shit, now I get it. That’s why you can blindly support a woman who takes large sums of money from governments willing to give a woman hundreds of lashes for showing her ankle. A woman who giggles about setting free the rapist of a thirteen year old girl. A woman who hides behind the feminism that’s supposed to unite all the uteri of the world, claiming that every woman has the right to be believed, unless of course she’s attacked by one of those preferred members of the replacement daddy-class whom feminism seeks to marry you to.

 
Sorry, but I’m no fan of socialism; learn your history and maybe you’ll figure out why. Ponder for a minute why people are dying to cross over our borders to get here, but for the last hundred years or so, they were being shot trying to cross their own borders to escape socialism. No matter, vote your conscience. Your own individual conscience, not the collective conscience handed down from on-high by people who view you as nothing more than a set of reproductive organs that can be persuaded to move as an indistinguishable herd. At least I’m very pleased at all the young ladies, old ladies, skinny ladies, chubby ladies, ladies rich, poor and maybe a few not-quite ladies who felt the Bern last night. They spit in the eye of the old feminist guard who have done nothing but teach them to despise men and might very well have reclaimed what had originally appealed to us all about feminism; the individuality of the American woman, her independence, her strength and her will. And who knows, they probably met a few nice guys too.

 
Meanwhile, somewhere in a campaign office in snowy New Hampshire, someone is wondering just what in hell happened…

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