The Invisible Manifesto
Nine hours alone in a car gives you plenty of time to think. And so I did. As I was driving from Maryland to Georgia, I had plenty of time to mull over several matters. I reviewed my last exam in my head, until that started to annoy me. I thought about all the good food my wife would be fixing over the winter break and what we would do when we got to San Antonio. I also, of course thought about politics.
In my slightly exhausted, slightly excited state I started to ponder the attitudes David Neiwert has been documenting over at Orcinus, about the increase in eliminationist rhetoric coming from the mouthpieces on the extreme right. What struck me about this sort of kill all the dirty liberal rhetoric was not its startling lack of imagination (unfortunately, this sort of hate speech has been around for a long time and like all things older than the hills, it's not all that original) but the personal edge that the Neocons give it. They of course backpeddle as soon as they're fingered on their libelous speech and claim it was only satire but this just underscores their ignorance. Does anyone really think Rush Limbaugh would know satire if it dropped a wooden rabbit on his head?
No, they make personal attacks and try and claim it's something else when it's pointed out to them that, hay, you know that sort of talk is dangerous because some dim bulb out there might not get your feverish brand of Benedict Arnold Satire. This got me to wondering, what are their gripes? Why does Rush Limbaugh hate me personally, even though he's never met me? I can only conclude that it's because I am what he is not and that scares him. I'm the Other. The thing he dare not look for when he combs over his hair in the mirror.
I'm a liberal. An outspoken intellectual. An Atheist. A freethinker. A nonviolent activist. Agent of change-for-the-sake-of-change. A freewheeling, fast moving force upon the face of the Earth and a hell of a good dancer.
I'm everything Rush, Shawn, Bill and their lie spinning Bible addled handlers Unelectable, Crisco Johnny and Defib Dick haven't got the guts to be: Free. I make up my own mind instead of having my ideas handed down to me from Neocon Thinktanks, Pundits and the Eye of Sauron himself, Karl Rove. I think not just outside the box but outside the frickin political solar system. I'm the lefty from outer space. My ray beams shoot sexy daydreams to all the kids, making them pant and lust for the sort of life that exists outside of corporatist groupthink, that America we somehow forgot three years ago, the one I want to go back to next year: the land of the free and home of the brave.
*Edited to remove funny symbols that where not intended to be there.