I am laboring here folks. As strong a swimmer as I am, I am tiring. Each morning another ripple threatens to overwhelm me. All the while my legs are scissor-kicking gently and rhythmically; my arms doing the classic “8” motion to take some of the burden off my legs. My head is above water but the ripples keep coming. Behind this one is another, and another, and another . . . .
The news assaults me yet again. Usurpation upon usurpation upon usurpation is the norm. I feel sorta like a punch drunk fighter, warding off blow after blow. I’m still standing, still counter-punching but after I whip this challenger there will be another hanging on the ropes ready to jump in and start swinging. Sometimes I get a second, third or fourth wind, but it’s still tiring in the long run.
I honestly must give props to my opponents. They are dedicated if nothing more. In fairness though I sometimes feel as if I am the last man standing while they keep bringing in fresh challengers to try and floor me. As if . . . .
I wonder if some reader’s have noticed I have lately taken to writing commentaries on many different issues in the same article instead of my usual devoting an entire article to one specific topic or action? It is for two reasons – because my reader’s have a terminal limit for reading my work, and because there is sooooooooo much to write about.
I honestly feel as if I am the last man standing. I know I am not, but cognition does not always supplant feelings – just ask a liberal! LOL. When I sit down and fire up the ‘puter and sip that first taste of morning java the news is never reassuring. Assault after usurpation after un-American proposal follows on the heels of each other. The rule of the Constitution is slipping past a disinterested public. The traditions are defamed and belittled. The people favoring them are denigrated as hateful bigots and all other manner of untruth.
For me personally I can handle the assaults upon me and mine. I understand why they assault me and all who express what I publicly write about. That being said, I am sad for the lack of support I receive. The same 15 or 20 people – people I adore and appreciate mind you – are always supportive of my efforts. And while my overall monthly PV’s are consistent, my daily offerings are less well received. I mean when ya have 900 plus offerings, sometimes even a blind squirrel finds a nut, right? Hell, I’ll bet half the monthly PV’s of my old catalog were found by accident anyway.
Of course as I have stated before there is a certain repetitive quality to my work – it is the nature of the beast.
Add in the sheer misery of what I write about. I cannot tell you the number of people including my wife, Mom, daughters, friends and basically everyone I know who knows what I do here and why I do it, who express the almost identical words – “I can’t handle it.” They read my work and are shocked. They ask me “Are you serious Jimbo? Is this real?” To which I respond “Of course it is.”
And these are people who love me and know my veracity is in tact and inviolate. These folks know if I said it it is true and accurate. But they all say the same thing – “I can’t take it.” They mean the sheer volume of the assaults upon America is daunting.
I talk with my first wife every week. She’s a great gal and I love her dearly as the most awesome friend ever. She knew me when I was young, dumb and cocky as Hell. And to my good fortune she loved me then and loves me now. We each had our first “natural born child”, a girl for each, born on the same day, the same year. If that’s not coincidence and karma I don’t know what is. And she reads my work but even she say’s “It scares me. Reading too much of your work is depressing.” She does not mean that badly. She means it frightens her. She is one of my biggest fans and even she can only take so much of the news I write about.
I cannot ignore what I see. As I recently wrote, “What am I supposed to do when I see the dust cloud rising in the distance as the horde gallops toward all of us, full tilt?” (Paraphrased) I am a watcher. I am a bleating voice in the darkness trying to turn on the lights for everyone else to see what I do. I am not smarter, more politically astute or wiser than others. I am just one who pays exceptionally close attention.
So you love sports? Or the entertainment mags? Or you’re busy with “real life” raising kids, working and all that entails? I get it. That’s what America is all about and by-God I am all about America, so I get it. But I still feel lonely. Lonely that me and a few others hold knowledge that so many others do not want to have to deal with. I honestly cannot impart to the reader the burden such bears.
I live every day in mortal fear that not enough are listening. I fear that all too soon the trigger “they” (my ideological opponents and those so desirous for that agenda) have been hoping for will be tripped. What then? The “what then” is what I have been screaming about for years.
I don’t know how many have been paying attention but in January, 2011 I will be a Grandfather for the first time. Then I will have another person to love and protect, and I’m up for it. In fact I’m excited for it. But it is still an additional burden. Another little person who only I can protect. Is there a living soul in the ether who honestly thinks I want what I see coming and preaching about? If so they are a fool. But unlike “them” I separate what I wish from what I know and see.
My wife tells me I am an “intuiter.” I do have a frighteningly uncanny ability to piece together larger mosaics from the disparate puzzle pieces. Again, I am not smarter than others, but I am damn sure watching as close as can be and what I see leads to conclusions that to me are inescapable. My historian status is my proudest non-parenting or interpersonal accomplishment in my entire life. My ability to grasp history, do detailed research and then tie it all together is a blessing and a curse.
Sometimes I just wanna toss in the towel, but I cannot. That would let “them” win and of all the things I am or am not, I do not run from evil. Bullies know me to be their worst nightmare, because I cannot be bullied. The harder they push, the more firm my resolve.
One more point before I wind this up and open myself to the scrutiny of those who find me too, too much and would love to crush me beneath their boot heel – go for it Bitches!
Yesterday Glenn Beck (God, I wish y’all knew how much I HATE invoking his name in anything I write, but truth is truth) finally delivered for the old Scooter Tramp. Last night one of his infamous “blackboards” highlighted the 1963 Goals of the Communist Party for the United States. How many times have I referenced this topic? 50? 75? Whatever, it’s a lot.
And much to the chagrin of the left, when Beck highlights a book or topic it usually becomes a much searched one on the internet. He can take a book that on Monday was 1000 on the best seller list and within 72 hours the book is number one best selling book in the land. So I went and checked my PV’s for my “Communist Goals – Circe 1963” article. It has 2 PV’s so far this month.
Seems even if I was walking around with $100.00 bills sticking out of my top pocket I still couldn’t get robbed, if that analogy makes sense to the reader. Makes sense to me. Maybe in a day or two another 3 folks will read the article. And no, this ain’t about PV’s but how many will walk away being certain that’s why I wrote this? I just want folks to know what is going on. Hell, if more folks would read me I would gladly donate the $15.00 a month I make doing this to a charity.
Honestly folks, I use the moniker I do because I am not seeking for anyone to notice me and praise me for my wondrous works. And I don’t use it because as a couple of detractors have lately accused, I “use Whiplash because I am afraid of backlash if anyone knows my real name.” (paraphrased) Me? Afraid of some big mouthed emoting lefty? Afraid of what exactly? They will call me names? They will defame me? They will come looking for me? I wish.
I use a nom de plume because it’s my personality. It’s as much for comedic relief as anything else. It’s because I figured Snidely Whiplash was an evil joke of a cartoon character and as so many think that of me to begin with, well….you get it. I figured if I used a funny name representing the evil they accuse all conservatives of I would have deflected some of their vitriol, but I was an epic fail in that one.
I wish the clowns who level that accusation could see me in real life. Anyone taking bets they wouldn’t say it then? And not because I am so mean, bad or uncaring that I would stomp ’em into a mudhole, which I am not above doing if sufficiently goaded to it, but because if they looked me in the eyes they would never say it. For some reason even those most offended by my writings would never do that to my face because to look into my eyes reveals my soul. And to look in my eyes reveals a loving, thoughtful and caring person who is doing what they believe to be the right thing. As well, I fear nothing. They can kill me but they damn sure can’t eat me.
I feel burdened by my sense of obligation to this, but that burden, while weighing me down, will never wear me out. I promise ya that. If I ever quit doing this one of three things will have happened – the danger will have passed, thus I will have nothing to warn folks of; AC kicked me outta here; or I woke up dead one morning. Short of those three events, I am here to stay – Bitches!
I hesitated writing this for many reasons – no one really cares about my personal plight and struggles, nor should they; any espousing of one’s personal challenges and demons can be seized upon by one’s detractors and used to defame one because so many want to paint those they disagree with as negatively as possible; and because I never want to show weakness in the eyes of my enemies, and boy do I have a bunch of them – enemies I mean – and of course as a Human, I have frailties.
Lastly, as I do not have a personal blog, I use the “memoirs” publishing category to publicly lament. This is not a plea for anyone to tell me “it’s only the internet. It’s not real life. You take this too seriously!” – I hate that – I really do. If they knew and believed what I do they would never be so condescending and patronizing. All I am doing is emoting out loud my inner feelings. I do not expect any redress for my expressions – I am merely expressing them.
And I will not quit. I know to reader’s it may seem as if hyperbole is in play when I say “they’ll have to kill me to stop me,” but I ain’t kidding. I tire under the assault from the news and my feeling that I must scream from the rooftops what I’ve seen. I DO NOT TIRE at doing battle with them though and I DO NOT TIRE from the challenges a tiny few AC readers deliver me. In fact that is my favorite part of this whole struggle.
My frustration is the feeling that so few are listening. Ignorance of what is going in our nation will take all of us to a place only a tiny minority and their disinterested and naive supporters will follow out of complete ignorance. The rest of us who know where this leads will be forced to go along against our will. I will fight that ’til my last breath. Dear Lord, wake your friends. I don’t care if they read me or not, but wake your friends and family and tell them what is going on. If we do not fight as if our lives depended on the outcome we will be regretting it for the rest of our miserable lives, and our kid’s lives, and their kids . . . .
Very sorry for the length. Please consider this my public diary. I have no private blog so I am just emoting and sharing. Hope those who read this – all 15 of ya – understand I appreciate you more than I can express. I am just saying publicly things I feel. Is it wrong of me?