Yesterday, in its inimitable fashion Facebook reminded me of a blog post I wrote some seven years ago. One not presently online, but doubtless buried in an archive file somewhere on my computer. I might dig it up and dust it off sometime, checking to see if I had anything of importance to say that day. Since it doesn’t look like it involved politics, it might actually be worth something.
Regardless of its contents, the mystery post made me think back over the past 15 years of dizzying digital political life. One who spends as much time as I do online ought to wonder how he or she has managed avoiding drowning in the oceans of digital ink angrily spilled out day after day, month after month, year after year, now decade after decade in the name of whatever given cause was at the top of the pops that day; outrageously outraged words of vital, life-shattering and destiny-changing import furiously pounded out, all to be forgotten tomorrow. Many writers were earnest and honest; sincere zealots whose passion would gradually wither and die in the face of others’ indifference. Some would glom on to you, claiming to be your “friend” when in reality the friendship extended only as far as how many links and retweets you threw in their direction. Others strove mightily to be someone; doing whatever necessary including claiming fealty to Christ yet dropping His leadership and their underwear whenever career advancement was in foreplay, to carve out as big a piece as possible of a very finite pie, plus corresponding paycheck, within the echo chamber of whichever political persuasion they chose. It was, and remains for those still playing, as Solomon wearily wrote: vanity. All is vanity.
And what has been accomplished in a decade plus of blistered blustering blogging and angry Twitter birds? Nothing. All is as it was. Oh, true character has been exposed; sadly rare are moments when a hand of kindness touches a computer or smartphone screen. But politically? No. The powers that be, the moneychangers in what was designed to be a people’s temple long before Jim Jones forever smeared the name with his followers blood, still call the shots, lining their pockets with the work of a middle class increasingly stripped bare of so much as ability to maintain a quiet life, let alone advance. This explains in no small part the rise of Trump and Sanders this primary season. Despite their radical (no pun intended, #FeelTheBern brigade) differences, both stand outside the political world’s door marked BUSINESS AS USUAL. Sanders is in politics but not of it, while Trump is neither in nor of. That the ego rats … er, Democrats succeeded in giving Hillary the nomination with little fuss from her MSM cheer squad while the NeverTrumpets are perpetually screaming over why didn’t the GOP game the game sufficiently to deny Trump the nomination speaks volumes about how so many, desperate for their slice of the aforementioned pie, will say anything they believe enhances their opportunity for climbing the social/economic political insider ladder, country be damned.
The disease of conceit courses through online political discourse’s muddy bloodstream. It rages unchecked, aided and abetted by its enablers, comprised of both corporate leeches and individual sycophants. While it is utter naivety to believe one lone entry in the rapidly dying world of blogging can, or will, change anything, it is imperative to no longer remain silent. The truth must be told. Names must be named. Political ideology is no defense for lies, slander, bullying, and petulance. On this site, these things will be addressed regardless of whether one stands left or right. There can be no other response. There is no other way.
It is time for truth.