Wrote a few articles on Daily Kos. I’ll either link to them or share them here eventually.
I like DK. It’s a good place, and there are a lot of good people there, but there are some real pains in the ass, too, and I’m still at that stage where I’m trying to figure out who is who.
Anyway…the negative feedback I’ve either received or experienced from some of the people there…got to me a little bit.
I was hoping to find friends, comrades, brothers and sisters in arms.
Instead there’s a few cool people, and a cliquish group, and several “Liberal Stinkers” (the people who always have to prove that they’re more liberal than you). They bug the shit out of me, but I can live with them. Treating them like overgrown kids is usually the best strategy.
But there are some closet conservatives there on DK, too, who only exist to pester “the libs.” Those guys get to me.
It’s one thing to have an argument with somebody who’s sticking to the issue.
It’s another thing to engage in a discussion with somebody who’s making a special effort to skirt the real issue and make the debate about something else entirely.
Anyway…the world looks pretty callous and indifferent to me now.
There’s a weight on my chest and a lump in my throat.
And the kinship I was searching for has yet to materialize.
I’ve been in love. At least I know that. Lost them both, but at least I know that love is real. And I know that you can love someone with all of your heart, but that doesn’t mean you can live with them.
But I’ve never known success. Not real success. Nothing lasting.
Things worked my way a few times, but…it lead to nothing, ultimately.
I would really like to know the taste of success at least once in this life of mine.
Success being…to capture the thing I’ve always wanted. To be published. To make a good living as a writer. To sell my work, then be asked if I had anything more to sell.
Finding my consort would be great, too. A life partner. A friend I can sleep with. That too seems an impossibility. Not sure why. Guess it’s me.
Still haven’t made any friends at Daily Kos, but I know that takes time. It is what it is. It’s a good site, but there is a clannishness about some of the members and I haven’t got the time or the will to kiss their asses and get on their good side.
I’ll be me. I rock. They’ll see that eventually.
Pretty much every day I visit the site I cross paths with a new Liberal Stinker, or some dimwit who didn’t bother to read my comment closely, misinterpreted what I said, then chose to berate me.
It is what it is. I’ll just ignore most of those little fuckers, unless I’m drunk and spoiling for a fight, and one of them makes a wrong move. Then I’ll draw blood.
But all of that’s…not very relevant right now.
I need to get published. I need to find an agent. I need to market my work, and I’ll be damned if I know where to begin.
After all these years I finally have several marketable works, but I’m too brain dead to bait the hook and throw my line into the water. Been adrift at sea for too long.
Joined Daily Kos a few weeks ago. Since Twitter shit-canned me—twice—without explanation other than a link to their Hadrian’s wall of dreaded, almost meaningless Twitter Rules, I needed some form of interaction. Most of the crew at DK seemed pretty cool, so I thought I’d give it a try.
And they are cool for the most part. Way cool.
But I knew there’d be some flies in the ointment, and there were. It only took a few days for that to pan out.
Fly the First was some naggy old broad from Tesas. I don’t necessarily dislike her, but she has a finger-wagging way about her that annoys me. Our last interchange was about how VA Hospitals suck. She told me they didn’t. Then I posted a link to illustrate the length and breadth of the VA’s suckage. She ended it by saying “Then why don’t you do something about it?”
Nag, nag, nag.
Fly II was some guy who griped at me for using the phrase “indian giver.” I was kind of drunk at the time and thought he was just yanking my chain so I answered as would a frustrated Scottsman in a land that only spoke English.
Fly the Third was some guy who wouldn’t give it up, and basically accused me of being a racist for using that phrase. He also deeply objected to using the word “gypped” because it was originally a slur against Gypsies in Romania hundreds of years ago.
You are way off base. When you have to explain the etymology of a slur, it’s probably not as bad as you thought it was, in this case “gypped.”
Regarding “Indian Giver” the picture of a Native American never entered my mind, and I’m sure that’s true for well over 90% of all the people who use it. We think of The Little Rascals or Leave it to Beaver.
You’re just posturing. It’s a piss poor example of the laziest form of Virtue Signaling.
You’re bending over backwards to find offense where none was intended and only scant evidence exists.
(by the way, the thing I called “indian giver” was alcohol, as in the embodiment of alcohol)
He’s a dick I hope I never see him again. He’s a “Liberal Stinker” which was the topic of another “diary” as they call them there. He’s the kind of guy who will work overtime to prove that he is liberal-er, yea, more liberal-er than thou.
I will refrain from using those phrases again, in the future, because I am a liberal, and as such I strive to be considerate to others.
I have to say that thanks to the Liberal Stinkers, we’ve reached a point in this country where it feels like you can’t open your mouth without offending someone.
Fly the Fourth, and the worst of the flies to date, is some dirty piece of shit conservative who weaseled onto the site just so he can fuck with liberals. Apparently he’s been there for years, so he’s always careful to make his jibes just shy of the line of violation.
If you’re not familiar with sites like this, for reasons too many to go into now, they tend to be distinctly bifurcated. Liberal sites are for liberals, and conservative sites are for conservatives.
The cons keep us off their sites because it is ridiculously easy to show, nay, to prove how stupid their arguments are…and they don’t like that.
Liberals keep the cons off of their site because the cons will run around posting disgusting pictures of dog shit and aborted fetuses and, whenever possible, ganging up on a given user and making his life hell…and liberals don’t like that.
Anyway…the very odd thing about the DK boards is that there is no block or mute button. If you cross paths with an idiot or an asshole, there’s no way to not see that person again, so you have to learn to live with it.
Which might be a good thing in the long run.
Not sure yet.
In closing, I went to DK hoping to find some kindred spirits, and thus far I’ve come up short. Even though online bulletin boards and social media sites are better than nothing…and sadly, for millions of us that’s all there is…you’re probably never going to find a true friend there.
You’ll never really find your people.
You’ll just have to keep looking, out there in the real world, on the planet where you’re beginning to suspect you don’t belong.
The first was very well received. 240+ recommendations. Made the front page. Oooo. BMOC.
The second, not so much. 4 recommendations.
But it’s a new venue to explore. Can’t deny that my inner attention whore loves the…what’s it called? But that’s not the point, and that’s the…seduction of popularity.
Instead of speaking your truth, you’re tempted to say something that people will like. And that messes it all up, because that’s not why we’re here. Well, not entirely why.
Truth is never on our side. We must stand with the truth, on truth’s side.
The discovery of truth upholds everything about society. The manipulation of truth undermines it all. Truth is real. Verifiable.
Perhaps not repeatable in a laboratory, but the truth is like a rock that you stand on.
The GOP has no regard for truth whatsoever. This is not hyperbole. The GOP lies all the time, as do their propagandist media outlets.
Conservatives lie so frequently that if you want to know the truth, just watch one of their shows and whatever they say, believe the opposite, and you’ll probably be right.
One would think it would be easy to beat people like that. It would be, probably, had they not mountains of oil & gas money…and countless billions in kick-backs from arms dealers. Money can proclaim that black is white for a long, long time. Sadly, we seem to have reached the point where people believe it.
All of this is passing. Holding on to the wind. The rock is stupid Unless it’s your rock Beneath your feet
Spent a few days online, arguing with some guy who is convinced that masks don’t work.
As usual—and if you’re a progressive I’m sure you’ve done this before—I posted link after link to qualified, respected health care institutions from around the world, each illustrating and supporting the efficacy of masks.
He supported his claim, primarily, with a single article written by some Libertarian guy (not a virologist) on RealClearPolitics.com.
The pointlessness of the task eventually wore me down, and I just gave up.
Kind of mad at myself for even trying.
The rightwing is so bereft of ideas that they’ve been reduced to a party of contrarians, people who will disagree with Democrats and progressives just for the sake of disagreeing.
It’s not impossible to imagine a new and more deadly threat emerging sometime in our near future, a danger so imposing and ominous that refusing to recognize it may well alter our reality forevermore.
A couple of obvious examples crossed my mind just as I finished that last paragraph.
Someday we’re going to need the conservatives to recognize the nature of an imminent threat and get on board with us in order to defeat it.
And they just won’t do it, simply because we’re for it…
…so they have to be against it.
That’s what we’re up against, and it ain’t pretty.
Joe Biden ended the twenty-year war in Afghanistan. That’s a historical fact now. It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t pretty, but it had to be done, and by God he did it.
His first year in office, too!
When Bush, Cheney, and Rumsfeld invaded Afghanistan in October of 2001, Americans were lead to believe it would be a quick, decisive battle similar to what we saw in Desert Storm, Iraq, in 1991.
Boom boom, bang bang, in and out, done.
Obviously we were lied to, because the Bush administration had no intention of leaving Afghanistan from the start. And they made damned certain that leaving the country would be somebody else’s problem.
Republicans excel at making messes that somebody else has to clean up.
The GOP whipped up popularity for the war by pandering to their base’s bigotry (gonna teach them ragheads a lesson!) while simulatneously accusing anybody who disagreed with them of being unpatriotic and belonging to the “Hate America First” crowd.
Seriously. That’s basically what happened.
While diversity is a progressive strength, it can at times be our most vulnerable weakness. Because often times, in order to win any conflict, you have to stick together despite the imperfection of the alliance.
Progressives don’t like to march in lock step.
Conservatives can’t seem to walk in any other way.
With an uncanny instinctiveness, a hybrid herd mentality, Republicans can easily do one thing that progressives find difficult: they know how to stay on message. Mainly because Republicans on the whole don’t like to think. Truly. And their leaders are only too happy to think for them.
Conservatives will rarely voice any opinion unless they know that most conservatives already agree…because the bottom line is they don’t know right from wrong. Somebody else has to create those parameters for them. Once they’ve reduced a broad, complex, sweeping concept to a pithy talking point, then and only then will they they lock into that standpoint with a religious ferocity.
Rank and file, Main Street Republicans are gawd-awful at debate, but they are experts at regurgitating the talking points of the day. I don’t know why that is, but that’s why they appear to win so many arguments. They stick to the message. They already have the answers.
But progressives have often been compared to a herd of cats. You can’t stampede them over a cliff, because they aren’t prone to stampeding. You can’t round them up in a corral because they are fundamentally resistant to being corralled.
Believe me, people have tried. Didn’t work.
So the thing is, when all of us clever, fickle, leonine progressives hear the GOP predictably blaming the failure of the Afghanistan withdrawal on President Joe Biden…we have to be careful not to get tangled in their logical fallacy.
Sure, we can admit to ourselves that it was par to disaster, and we can admit to ourselves that ultimately Biden was responsible…but we all know perfectly well that it’s just not as simple as that.
You can’t spend twenty fucking years and well over a trillion dollars “nation building” only to watch it evaporate in eleven days and blame it on the new guy.
Because the bottom line is this: Joe Biden didn’t screw up the twenty-year war of Afghanistan. That had already been done twenty times over, starting in October of 2001.
Here we see your typical conservative stud berating an old woman for wearing a mask.
Tough guy. Wish I was there and tequila drunk.
Whenever you hear a conservative talking about freedom, this is the essence of their debate: freedom for me to do whatever the hell I want, and freedom for you to like it or lump it.
They talk about corporate “freedom” — deregulation — the “right to work” and so forth. That just means they want to let big corporations do whatever the fuck they want, and everybody else has the freedom to clean up the mess and pick up the bill.
Hog resources. Pollute the environment. Underpay their workers and force them to labor in unsafe surroundings. That’s corporate freedom. That’s deregulation.
So every time you hear a Republican howling about freedom, remember that dickless wonder in the photo above, towering over a defenseless little old lady and screaming in her face.
Bikers. Can’t fucking stand them. A few bikers walk into the bar, and I generally walk out, especially if they sit their fat asses anywhere near me.
It’s the same way every time. They’ll walk in all quiet and humble, looking like “Hey, man, we just want to have a few beers. We don’t want no trouble.” And fifteen fucking minutes later, they’re stirring up trouble. Their specialty is occupying any given section of the bar, then acting as if they own it. They like corners by the pool tables, but if they get a chance, they’ll take over a patio instead. And, yes, they will literally tell people that it’s their patio and tell them to leave.
But I confess a dark fascination with the brood, amazed at how anybody could be so damned stupid and still retain the heroic allure of an iconoclast.
How, I ask you, how can so many people dress the same, act the same, and think the same…and still call everybody else “sheeple?”
Wonders never end.
Biker girls really turn me on. I think “Wow, that white trash and proud of it attitude is really hot.” Until I have to interact with them in any way, shape, or form, and then they make my skin crawl. Biker bitches are even dumber than the dudes. And meaner.
Biker bitches will threaten you. They get off on it. Never directly, always in the passive tense. Italian mobster chicks are the same way. They’ll start talking about some guy who got his ass kicked…it’s not you, but it sure sounds an awful lot like you.
Not all bikers are bad, I have to remind myself. There are a few exceptions, of course, as there are with everything.
I remember “Mars” from my days spent bartending at the Screwball Inn–smart guy, funny, weird, but mostly good. And “Wrench,” the big skinny guy with two teardrops tattooed on his face…surprisingly good natured…self deprecating…always cracking a dry joke. His wife was a rich kid from Florida, and their little boy looked like an angelic cherub, something out of parochial school, always scrubbed clean and polite.
But there are so many other bikers I’ve met in my life who just…seemed to make a point of making me miserable. No idea why. Too blond, I guess. Too educated. Too liberal. Too something.
Back in Roswell, one group tracked me down from one bar to another, and their muscle man grabbed me by the back of the neck…I can’t remember why. I think I dared to argue with their leader at another bar about GW Bush. This was around the time when Bush, Cheney, and Rumsfeld were all blatantly lying about WMDs in Iraq. Basically provable lies, since no WMDs were ever found and every intelligence agency on earth disagreed with Rumsfeld’s assessment.
Then, in Denver, a “1%” biker gang drew a bead on me and had their fun. One of their bros bellied up to the bar and smirked and said something like “Every fucking liberal sitting at this bar is a traitor to the United States.” Well, like an idiot, I couldn’t let that slide and challenged him on it. This was during the second year of Obama’s first term, when all of the “I’m not a racist” racists were still screaming about his birth certificate.
They figured out where I lived. I had to move out of my apartment. I was pretty rattled. To them, it was a game. I wasn’t afraid they’d kill me, but I was afraid of getting stomped. It was my shit luck that year to move into a neighborhood where they were trying to establish a club and take over the corner bar. Again, all I did was argued with some shithead about politics, and I paid a heavy price.
Bikers are weird that way. According to their mythos, they can basically say and do whatever the hell they want. But you better watch what you say. And you better watch what you do. Because when a biker can’t win the argument, he’s determined to win the fight. And they can fight. That’s one thing they do well. Especially when it’s four or five to one. Then it’s a fight and a bonding experience.
Ah, live and learn.
I know that if, for some reason, there were ever a big barroom soaked in gasoline and a hundred 1% bikers trapped inside…and I had a match…I’m not sure I could resist a certain diabolical urge, if you know what I mean.
So now it’s the middle of August, and all the biker assholes are in Sturgis again, doing what they do best: acting like a bunch of chuckleheads, quite amused by their own idiocy.
Considering their lifestyle, you’d think that bikers would be as liberal as hell, politically. But it’s just the opposite. They’re so conservative that they usually blast past being reactionary and dive head first into what can only be described as populist fascism.
The funny thing, to me, the really funny thing is that bikers hate cops, and cops hate bikers.
Which is hilarious and truly ironic since when it comes to politics, the bikers and the cops are basically the same.