Full disclosure: I penned the piece precisely to irritate progressives. “Micro-aggressions!” “Safe places!” “No platforming!” Sounds like a roomful of swooning maiden aunts.
Had I known how easy it would be to bait the species, I’d have added more hooks. You have no idea how much your snarls have boosted a wonderful sense of schadenfreude. Thank you and I mean that sincerely. It’s so satisfying when clichéd core beliefs are exhibited. Makes it so much easier to reel them in for a bang-up fish fry.
Perhaps you’ve been emboldened these last few weeks by the cookie-cutter rants of Ms Gaga, R Gere, M Sheen, C Sheen, M Moore, C Miley and other potty-mouthed intellectuals. It’s telling that not one of them understands the implications of Godwin’s Law, which, broadly speaking, means that as soon as the Hitler/Nazi/Fascist insult is puked up, the speaker has lost the argument. Probably safe to assume everyone here voted for High Priestess Hillary, so I just gotta ask: who collected on Like-A-Virgin-Honey Bun’s promised blowjob? Say what you want about her, but the gal’s got class.
What they all refuse to acknowledge is how their devotion to trendy causes and demand that everyone believes the same, was a major factor in the election outcome. Reminds me of the boy who murdered his parents and then asked the judge for clemency because he was an orphan.
By the bye, for the Kool-Aid-drinking anodyne weepers here, try writing something original rather than plagiarizing or paraphrasing dimwits.
Enough of the preamble. Let’s move on to examining and deconstructing a few of the wonderfully insightful comments here.
GeorgiaDon: "How sad to be burdened with such hate."
It would take a good deal of manipulating to find “hate” in my piece. At first I was puzzled by the tortured interpretation, until realizing it’s a classic example of Freudian projection. A little Googling will reveal this is a common trait amongst those suffering from Narcissistic Personality Disorder, itself a sine qua non for any self-respecting progressive.
Jakee: "Yes Ron, we get it. You poor downtrodden white, conservative, christian males are the most discriminated against class in the whole of western society. Life must be so hard for you. My heart bleeds."
Rather than addressing anything in my screed (I made no reference to white, conservative, Christian males), good ol’ Jakee (like GeorgiaDon) spindles, folds and mutilates to find an outlet for his snarkiness. Tell me, are the white, conservative, Christian males you refer to the same demographic that voted in their millions for BB in 2008 and 2012? You know, the ones he insulted within weeks of taking office by sneering at their guns and Bibles? Are they the same white, conservative, Christian males who suddenly became irredeemable deplorables because they didn’t give their votes to Holy Hillary this time? What abusive adjectives does Jakee apply to the 52% of white female voters who chose Trump? Come on, Jakee, I’m confused, help me out here; what are your criteria for who’s worthy or unworthy? Something else you might also explain, please, is why the curled lip when using those adjectives? Interestingly, Ron and I are not as one on the subject of Christianity, something we’ve discussed a number of times in the past. Just as I’ve never tried to sway him from his sincerely-held beliefs, so he has never asked me to accept his. Nor has he ever disparaged those who share my brand of devout atheism. So congratulations, Jakee, for demonstrating, like all good progressives, your conditional devotion to diversity and inclusivity. Heartwarming. Really.
Normiss: "Allahu Akbar!"
Perhaps I’m just too unsophisticated to understand if there’s a hidden meaning in Normiss’ contribution. But if he wants to discuss my views on followers of the Prophet (PBUH) I could start with being snatched by Iranian-backed mujahedin while covering the war in Bosnia. Listening to them laugh as they discussed how and when they were going to kill me left an indelible impression. Funny, that. Maybe I could share a few jolly insights I gained in, say, Yemen; or northern Sudan; or Egypt; or Tunisia; or Turkey. Oops, I’m so bad. I forgot that all cultures are equal. How insensitive of me. Maybe Normiss will remind us of BB’s dictum that “Islam is a peaceful religion.” He said it often enough: in Cairo, the UN, the Rose Garden, various universities, so it must be true. Islamic terrorism? Perish the thought.
Curious how the earlier-mentioned show-biz icons lead the charge for women’s rights, yet never attack some of the charming traditions prevalent in Muslim societies: female genital mutilation, honour killings, forced to wear burqas, banned from education, adulterers stoned to death (but only if they’re females). Do the libtards know that rape is rape only if there are at least six male witnesses to the act? Oh, and let’s not forget progressive support of sexual orientation rights. How come the luvvies aren't screeching about the Koran/Quran’s commandment to kill homosexuals? The deafening silence must be because all cultures are equal - unless it’s a culture of white, conservative, Christian patriarchs in Middle America. Then they’re deplorable. I’ll be grateful to anyone who can explain any of these fine progressive hypocrisies.
Kallend poses a rhetorical question: "How does your friend enjoy the universal healthcare system and other government supplied benefits in the UK? Seems to me that his “conservative” credentials are somewhat compromised and self-serving."
As a writer I’ll give Kallend a Pass on syntax; as a journalist I give him a big, fat Fail for hammering on his keyboard without knowing the facts. So let me enlighten him. It’s a little convoluted, but bear with me. After selling Z’hills and moving to the UK I began paying taxes and making my monthly NI contributions. Two years later, while covering the war in Namibia, I was shot, the bullet leaving a fragment lodged against the median nerve and brachial artery. It was a most disagreeable experience. The military primary trauma centre had doctors galore but none qualified to address the damage, except to shoot me up with morphine every six hours. So I hied myself to Cape Town where a little micro-neurosurgery removed the fragment and a swatch of T-shirt wrapped around it. This was not a cheap repair. When I called my UK bank manager, a skydiver and former Z’hills habitué, he suggested I buy insurance. Naaah, I said, it ain’t gonna happen again. Contrary to my instructions, however, he took out a policy on me. Less than three weeks after that bullet I was back shooting warry pictures. And guess what: two months after that it did happen again. The five-inch path the mortar shrapnel made from forearm to upper arm was messy but the trauma centre had army surgeons for whom this was an easy-peasy debridement. What they couldn’t fix was a hand that refused to open. “Probably just neurapraxia,” said the surgeon, who’d seen plenty of similar cases. "Should be fine in a couple of weeks."
Having a flipper that didn’t work ended my time in the field and I returned to the UK, to begin writing my first book. Despite the prognosis, months went by with no improvement. Getting into the queue for a NHS operation was going to take a year or more. But then my bank manager smacked me upside the head with the insurance policy. It wasn’t long before a neurosurgeon was slicing, dicing and cleaning up an adhesion where the radial nerve had been nicked. Recovery wasn’t immediate but within six months I had 90% movement in the hand and wrist.
Inasmuch as I was heading off to embed with UNITA rebels I thought it sensible to keep up with the premiums. (I may be a slow child but not that slow.) Good thing, ‘cause after almost eight months trekking through central Angola I went down with severe malaria. (As GeorgiaDon may confirm, it’s a disease that makes you think you’re gonna die and feeling so bad you’re afraid you won’t.) Back in the UK, it was recurring two or three times a year. Rather than go through the NHS, I hauled out the insurance policy again and put myself in the hands of a tropical disease specialist. Again for GeorgiaDon’s benefit, most results came back with Plasmodium Vivax and at least one with P. Falciparum. (Don't ask me.)
As a journalist who dislikes clichés or ambiguities, I have to ask Kellend what he means by, “IMO Jim has gone off of the deep end.” What, when, from where and how does one go off the “deep end”? And what empirical evidence leads him to that sophomoric and imprecise conclusion?
But never mind, if Kallend has any more all-knowing comments, I hope he won’t hesitate to share them with us.
Gosh, and now we come to Gowlick’s measured reaction: "As a so called effeminate, uber liberal, dinner party going,truck driving Canadian, I also offer my condolences for your deep seated resentment over losing the culture wars. Despite this election result your world has changed and will not return to the white patriarchal hypocritical religious era you long for. The battle cry has been given. The Trump administration will energize the left from lethargy. You ain't seen nuthin' yet."
Hmmm, I have no idea who this ultra-sophisticated Gowlick is, don’t know what his predilections are and frankly don't care, though he should understand I used the root word as a verb rather than, as he does, an adjective. Thundering across Canada’s landscape seems to have given him long hours to assemble a string of progressive clichés. By “You ain’t seen nuthin’ yet”, does he mean more violent demonstrations? More weeping and hyperventilating at the unfairness of democracy? More efforts to overturn the US Constitution? More limitations on free speech? More social engineering? More targeted welfare programs to buy more votes next time? But if vomiting all those clichés gives him solace, then I recommend he bolts together an even longer and more delusional list. I’m sure it will make those white, patriarchal, hypocritical, religious males (and females) desert all those ugly constructs and vote en mass for the next progressive candidate. I suppose it’s possible there’s a parallel universe out there, so go for it, pal.
Jerry Baumchen – at last here’s someone who addresses something in my text, if only to correct it, for which I’m grateful. Good to know Bessamers became passé years ago. That’s a fact (rather than a feeling) from someone who knows what he’s talking about. But then, metallurgy is founded on empirical evidence and requires more than a modicum of academic focus. Am also guessing it goes hand in glove with a solid grasp of inorganic chemistry and qualitative-quantitative analysis. Me, I failed to understand even basic high school chemistry, so well done to Jerry. I got a hint of the academic rigour required when looking at my brother’s original research data for his MSc thesis on stress corrosion. Completely bewildered, I headed for the drop zone.
That’s it, boys and girls. Great fun, but my publisher, a stickler for deadlines, is drumming his fingers so I’d better get back to scanning more of my warry photos and writing captions. In the meantime, allow me to offer a little advice to all the delicate flowers and swooning maiden aunts sniffling into their lavender-scented hankies: put down your organic soya latte and accept that you don’t have an inalienable right to everything on your wish list. If that’s too painful a reality, then you might look for an inviolable safe place. BB likes Havana, and your old Ché T-shirts would fit right in. On the other hand, Viva Maduro T-shirts are going for pennies in Caracas, where progressive socialism has worked so well that even toilet paper is rationed. And you’d never have to worry about those progressive dictatorships being kicked out by something as crude as democracy. It’s not allowed.
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