There’s been more than a little angst as ammunition tossed about recently. Nationally we hear it in the sequester talk, which at last look had morphed into assurances we will have children being forced out of their orphanage in the middle of a blizzard just in time to see sacks of puppies and kittens being thrown into the river if we don’t agree to continue spending money we don’t have on government employees we don’t need to carry out “services” we don’t want. Meanwhile, in social media land it’s battle plans and detailed counterplots galore as everybody is seemingly in a family feud with at least five other people and/or groups. Blood may be thicker than water (and a whole lot harder to clean up when spilled), but butthurt lords over all.
Meanwhile, I saw a note on Facebook today from a high school buddy that his older brother had died.
It’s interesting to note where priorities lie for people. I clearly recall after my brother passed away unexpectedly last year feeling not a little anger toward those too self-preoccupied to express condolences even after having been directly notified about what was happening. I also heard from more than a few conservative new media types that I needed to “get over it” and was grieving far too much whenever I mentioned this. Such individuals make this whole forgiveness thing quite the challenge, but it’s a work in progress.
Those who have tasted the unfortunate fellowship’s bitter communion wine lean heavily toward viewing the assorted raging on Twitter and elsewhere as so much pansy-ass piffle, rejecting all efforts to be drawn into same with a dismissive sidelong glance. What are people fighting about, why are they fighting and does it make one iota of difference for anyone or anything? We have a government, insanely out of control, seeking to direct us in all things down to the minutia of our lives, unsustainable debt, crushing taxes, openly encouraged class warfare… and people preparing for funerals even as others hurl f-bombs at each other because Johnny and Jimmy and Susie and Sally can’t be on the same social media playground without someone saying something to someone else, after which another someone else jumps in and then it’s free for all time.
Do we ever listen to ourselves? Do we hear the profanity and slander? Are we so absorbed in our self-righteousness and unmovable belief in our being utterly correct, convinced that all must yield to our whim and will lest they be considered a fool, that any deviation from our designed line to toe makes that person who dares to do so a deviant of the lowest order? Is every everything breathed against us such a savage blow that it requires rounding up our posse to mount a full-blooded (emphasis on blood) retaliatory strike? Are we that thin-skinned yet certain of our wishes and ways being sacrosanct? When did we decide to flush the Golden Rule like it was a dead goldfish?
Stop. Just stop. Get priorities in order: faith, family, friends.
Cures butthurt every time.
P.S. If we insist on having a free for all, at least let’s make it a rockin’ one…
Looks like the boy’s in trouble again
Living much too close to the edge of sin
Now he finds himself where he should not have been
It’s been an interesting day, starting with snapping at several people first thing this morning on Twitter. The Brett Kimberlin and Neal Rauhauser as flesh incarnate Gog and Magog meme in which so many wallow got the better of me, and I snapped at the usual suspects, some of whom snapped back. I have no love for Kimberlin and/or Rauhauser, holding them in approximately 37.4% of the esteem I have for a pimple on a warthog’s butt. However, after a while the constant victimization cry wears thin, especially when it is conveniently accompanied by donation pleas. Please. Give it a rest and get a job already. Either you are giving these two jokers far more credit than they could ever possibly deserve, or you really ought to be cutting them a slice of the funds you are receiving given how they are the centerpiece of your every fundraiser.
Oh God why is Your peace so hard to find
And the answer to the questions that haunt my mind
Oh Lord Your ways are not like mine
Next came a spillover from the previous evening. The back story first. By now you’re doubtless familiar with the Lindsey Stone saga. Ms. Stone, during a recent company outing to the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, thought it would be amusing to pose for a photo channeling to some small degree the late Lenny Bruce:
I rather doubt Ms. Stone knows who Lenny Bruce was, but that’s neither here nor there.
Anyway, as the story unfolds, unfortunately for Ms. Stone and her co-worker who took the picture it was noticed a couple of days ago by some who viewed it with less than a favorable eye. Said people started circulating the photo with Ms. Stone and her employer’s names attached. Before you can say “gone viral” the photo did go viral, with vitriol by the vat full hurled at both Ms. Stone and her employer. The former replied by deleting her social media presence; the latter responded to the howls for blood by firing Ms. Stone and her co-worker. Justice served; pound of flesh taken; scalp… scalped; Ms. Stone’s head hoisted on a cyberpitard. Everyone happy, right?
No, not really.
My initial reaction to the photo was a combination of revulsion that anyone could be both that disrespectful to those who gave the ultimate sacrifice in defense of Ms. Stone’s freedom to be disrespectful and astonishment that anyone could be so dense and self-serving as to think this was actually funny and a great photo op. Which is still my reaction. I would love nothing more than to give Ms. Stone a reading of the Riot Act that would forever be enshrined in academia and studied as a textbook example of how it is done, followed by dragging her by the ear to the nearest VA hospital for a lengthy tour so she could witness first hand the price paid for her enablement to be a jerk. If that didn’t provide her with the necessary clue she needed to get a clue I’d finish by handing her a copy of Jonathan Edwards’ sermon “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God” while telling her to never say she wasn’t warned, wash my hands and walk away. Period.
But here’s what I wouldn’t do.
I wouldn’t print her address and phone number.
I wouldn’t print her parent’s names, address and phone number.
I wouldn’t demand she be fired.
Why?
It’s something Jesus mentioned once. You know…
… let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone?
You see, God is still in the sin forgiving business. He still loves His creation. Even when it behaves badly. Sometimes very, very badly. Something to remember. Which, apparently, many on the right have failed to do. Having said all that, back to the original story.
Anyway, a conservative blogger saw an opportunity to score points by writing an open letter to Ms. Stone, verbally stoning her while throwing in some fat jokes for good measure. At which point I snapped — again — and wrote a snarky reply complaining bitterly about how the aforementioned blogger had time to do all this but apparently never had the time to offer condolences for my brother’s death this past August. At which point it was on. He fired back, I fired back to his firing back and several others entered the fray with no intention of discussing how to save a life.
And it pounds like thunder within my breast
All the anger all my humanness
And though I call You Lord I must confess
I’m a stranger to Your holiness
A stranger to Your holiness
Now, one thing you quickly learn in the blogging game is that every blogger with a following can count on at least some of their followers to immediately rise to their defense by heaping scorn on anyone who dares take the object of their fanboi or fangurl affection to task. This defense will range from everything from gentle rebukes to wannabe tough guys trying to call you out, calling you every name in the book because you politely decline to publish your home address so they can “pay you a visit.” I’m sure the FBI will be delighted to hear of such charming offers. But I digress. Anyway, all of the above quickly came down on me. A fine fun time for all involved, no doubt.
Well, actually, no.
Can we really be what we were meant to be
Jesus people living by the Spirit and living free
My heart longs to serve but wanders so aimlessly
Oh Lord You deserve every part of me
I realized in the midst of all this I was not heeding my own words: Be the better. Never become what you profess to oppose. I was behaving like a wounded pseudowarrior in the Battle of Butthurt. This was wrong, inexcusable and indefensible. Thus properly chastised (and don’t you hate it when you have to give yourself a stern lecture?), I withdrew from the battle, deleted my furious comments and apologized. Last time I checked the acid thrown my way was still there, but I’ll let God deal with these people even as He dealt with me today.
It pounds like thunder within my breast
All the anger all my humanness
And though I call You Lord I must confess
I’m a stranger to Your holiness
A stranger to Your holiness
That all said — and it needed to be said — I remain extremely disappointed with the conservative blogosphere. Here it had the opportunity to offer not snark, but sharp rebuke tempered by the knowledge that we, too, are but sinners saved by grace. Instead, we rose in self-righteous indignation, took our best cheap shots and then whooped it up over our “victory.” Victory? Really? Acting without grace and/or love is victory?
Hear my cry of desperation
As I see the wickedness of my ways
You alone are my salvation
And Lord I’ve learned this one thing to be true
Is that the closer I get to You
I see I’m a stranger to Your holiness
Don’t want to be no stranger
And it burns like a fire
One can say Ms. Stone is responsible for her own misfortune, and be quite correct in doing so. One can also say she got what she deserved. Fair enough. However, stop and think. How many times in our lives have we not received what we deserved as just punishment for our sins? How many times have we really, really screwed up, hurting ourselves, God, and others by our actions and/or words, and not been taken behind the woodshed and thrashed within an inch of our lives? Yes, we bear the consequences of our sin. Yet even those are ofttimes kept away from us by God’s hand and by His grace.
Are we genuinely better than Lindsey Stone? No. We have presumably not yet posted our sin on Facebook for all the world to see. That doesn’t make us sinless.
We need to open our hearts to God and our eyes to ourselves. We need to love as Jesus loves us. I failed miserably at that today. That doesn’t preclude me from saying that many others are also failing miserably. We don’t have to be such failures.
We can stop being a stranger to holiness.
And it pounds like thunder within my breast
All the anger all my humanness
And though I call you Lord I must confess
I’m a stranger to Your holiness
A stranger to Your holiness
Don’t want to be no stranger oh no
Don’t want to be no stranger
Don’t want to be no stranger
Looks like the boy’s in trouble again
Turn on the spotlight strike up the band Everyone’s looking my way They came to see the excitement firsthand And hear all that I’ve got to say
Oh it makes me wonder What if I slip will they catch me Or watch me fall
I am walking on a wire I tiptoe in through the fire Never looking down to see that I am walking on a wire The pressure’s getting higher But I don’t look around
It’s been an interesting twenty-four hours on social media, starting with the post here last night in which I blew a gasket, followed by an argument with Lee Stranahan on Twitter starting shortly after the post went up and finishing this morning. Then I interjected myself into a disagreement between Mark Scudder and Dana Loesch, in the process forgetting that Mark’s real beef was with Chris Loesch who unfairly dissed him a few weeks ago. That was straightened out, thankfully.
I don’t relish skirmishes in the Battle of Butthurt which raged throughout the summer and shown no signs of anything of accelerating as fall makes its presence known. I don’t live for conflict and controversy. It’s not me. I’d much, much rather take an alternative route, proposing reasonable third options whenever one presents itself that all parties can hopefully find acceptable. I don’t do the bit of being outrageously outraged over the outrage of the day. I pray I never play the victim. I don’t look for others to hide behind should slings and arrows be aimed in my direction. I do not enjoy fighting and I do not go looking for a fight. But I will fight when cornered.
Everyone roots for the winner The others well maybe next time Your time at the top only lasts fifteen minutes Then they just leave you behind
Oh it makes me wonder What if I slip will they catch me Or watch me fall
I am walking on a wire I tiptoe in through the fire Never looking down to see that I am walking on a wire The pressure’s getting higher But I don’t look around It’s so far to the ground
While there will doubtless long be a part of me desirous of conservative social media fame and acclaim, the rational side of my being knows better. I’ve crossed swords with too many people, and frankly I don’t have the 24/7 it takes to build a high profile presence. Should despite my best efforts I actually rise to a higher level, it is most definitely my prayer that I treat others as I wish to be treated and that I never treat anyone with a condescending attitude because they’re beneath my pay grade. If I mess up, I want someone to call me out on it. Once I get past the initial smarting, hopefully I’ll be attune to the Spirit and will see my mistakes. If I’m not owning up to my failings, but instead trying to either blame others for them or attempting to divert attention from them by harping on the failings of others, then I am a miserable failure indeed.
God isn’t looking for perfect people. He’s looking for penitent sinners, people who know they’re not better than anyone else and will speak up about the sins of others not out of a judgmental spirit, but rather a desire to see all humble themselves before the Lord as it is the only way to truly receive the boundless mercies of His love.
Will they catch me if I fall Will you catch me if I fall
But if I slip will they catch me Or watch me fall
I am walking on a wire I tiptoe in through the fire Never looking down to see that I am walking on a wire The pressure’s getting higher I don’t look around It’s so far to the ground
I don’t enjoy days like today. Not in the least. Some very good people, people I respect and admire, unfollowed me for what doubtless they believe is good cause. I don’t blame them and God bless them. But I can’t undo what has been done. Nor can I turn my back on sin, be it my own or that of others. To do so would be profoundly unloving of me.
I am a sinner, saved by grace and not through my own merit, for I have none. My prayer is that all will understand this applies to them as well. I pray people examine their lives and realize Jesus wasn’t kidding when He said, “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. Many will say to me on that day, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name and in your name drive out demons and in your name perform many miracles?’ Then I will tell them plainly, ‘I never knew you. Away from me, you evildoers!” Just as we cannot wrap ourselves in religious causes and from them find salvation apart from Christ, neither can we wrap ourselves in political and/or social causes, from them finding salvation apart from Christ. Do we honestly believe He cares who narrated what film, or wrote which blog post, or raised such-and-such money, or did the most work to bring about political change? Are these things brownie points to be counted in lieu of kneeling at the Cross, confessing our sins and receiving His forgiveness and grace bought at such a terrible cost?
I’m never looking down
I will challenge anyone if I believe they are in error, and I will disagree with anyone regardless of who they are. My loyalty is to Jesus, not man. Because of this, the person who stubbornly clings to their sin, refusing to so much as admit it is sin, is not someone with whom I can work regardless of their work, for we are not allies.
I do not let my friends choose my enemies, nor do I let my enemies determine my friends. I must walk the path I am on. If it costs me, it costs me. If I’m wrong, may I quickly see that, repent and start walking on the correct path. And if I fall off the wire altogether…
In Frank Capra’s classic film Mr. Smith Goes To Washington, one that is mandatory viewing for all lovers of America and haters of corrupt politics plus media, there is a scene during the movie’s climax in which Jimmy Stewart’s character is on the Senate floor confronting false charges brought by those who brought him to the Senate to vote for a pet project. One of the senators asks him to yield the floor, to which Stewart’s character angrily replies, “No, sir, I will not yield.”
I’ve rather felt like Sen. Smith the past several days, reading blog post after blog post either directly or indirectly stating I and others are either leftist tools for asking questions and/or utter fools for not meekly accepting that we are somehow feeding the enemy by believing people on our side ought to have integrity.
To which my response is the last sentence in this:
F— you and your pathetic bleating about how unity must rule over all.
F— you and your enabling of con men and unrepentant pornographers.
F— you and your passive-aggressive BS, Ali Akbar.
I am not going to sit down.
I am not going to shut up.
I am not going to tolerate any more wimpy, whining moaning that by calling out people claiming to be on conservatism’s side, yet either defend morally reprehensible past conduct or conduct their present business in an underhanded and questionable manner, I am somehow helping the enemy.
If we are pressured by those ostensibly on our side to accept without questioning people whose honor, integrity and moral fiber is fairly called into question, what does that say for these people? What does this say for our principles, aside from them being of no genuine importance?
Is honor of no consequence?
If so, count me out.
If honor does matter; if character does count, I’m in. And I will not be silenced by anyone’s complaints.
As the Battle of Butthurt rages on, it’s interesting to note how recent media malpractices are echoed in the echo chamber where the Rockefellers speak only to the Vanderbilts and the Vanderbilts speak only to themselves.
Over the past few days, we’ve seen our ambassador and embassy personnel murdered, our embassies (which are our sovereign territory) attacked, our flag desecrated and replaced with one favored by Al Qaida, embassies of other Western civilized countries attacked, the Middle East drawing ever closer to war… and the media responding by first clamoring loud and long over Mitt Romney having the audacity to criticize an official US State Department communique that threw the First Amendment under the bus as it expressed outrageously outraged outrage over some lame film trailer hurting Muslim’s precious little feelings (after which assorted and sordid members of the Religion of Perpetual Outrage attacked the embassy anyway), then as the horror of our ambassador being dragged through the streets of Benghazi could no longer be avoided shifted its attention to the maker of the aforementioned lame film trailer as the root of all that ails our foreign policy. Apparently Romney and the aforementioned film maker were responsible for egging on an Egyptian crowd to chant “Obama, Obama, we are a million Osamas.” Because, you know, no one in the Obama administration has ever said a word about how Obama was President when the US military found and killed Osama Bin Laden, as to do such a thing might possibly incite assorted and sordid Islamofascists to do things like… oh, attack and murder American officials. Which they’re going to attempt anyway, but now with additional cover reasons for their crimes. Anyway, of course this whole minor incident in Libya by a few misguided misunderstanders of Islam was an entirely spontaneous protest incited by the aforementioned lame film trailer. And one of the protesters just happened to have a RPG on them. Happens all the time. Why, RPGs are more commonly carried items than cellphones in Libya! As is the case everywhere.
Now that that’s out of my system, moving on to how the aforementioned media malpractice ties into the Battle of Butthurt.
One of the reasons, if not the single most prominent reason, new media is so attractive to so many is the opportunity it theoretically offers the common person to have their say about events of the day. No longer is one subject solely to mainstream media’s malfeasance; now new, fresh voices can be heard and used as information sources. This is a good thing, or at least it ought to be.
The problem comes when those who wish to have leading voices in the conservative choir (I imagine the same is true for liberals as well) get what they want, namely a prominent position in new media. Be it Twitter, blogging or any combination thereof, people whose fondest wish is to be publicly recognized, or at the least recognized within their tribe, put themselves out there day after day saying, in essence, “Look at MEEEEE!” Unfortunately for them, those who demand attention often get it from those who, if they had their druthers, they’d rather not receive attention. Well, they don’t have their druthers, and they never will.
It’s no secret there are some very nasty people out there who live for tearing other people down. They will harass, hound and slander others in an effort to drive them away. Ofttimes, these nasty people will devote tremendous energy toward uncovering anything in a person’s past they can use in an attempt to discredit or embarrass that person. This is how they operate. This is what they do. They are diseased cretins steeped in satanic hatred. And they are unavoidable.
A celebrity, unless they are utterly clueless which most likely describes the vast majority of today’s pop culture icons, understand that celebrity status comes with penalties as well as perks. Your privacy will be repeatedly assaulted. There will be unstable individuals, who could well do you physical harm, from whom you need protection. Your every word and action will be analyzed and dissected. And if there’s a camera around when you’re wearing nothing more than what God and your parents (and quite often plastic surgeon) gave you, the photo will make it onto the Internet, guaranteed. That’s the deal. You accept it, or you drop out. There are no other options. Complain about it, and the understandable response is telling you to shut up and quit whining as you knew what you were getting into. If it’s that bad, walk away and find a different career.
It is the same deal with new media’s self-made, or self-proclaimed if you prefer, celebrities. You cannot possibly be caught by surprise when you’re attacked by the other side’s fringe elements, or for that matter your side’s zealots. You know this is going to happen. You know if there is anything in your past that can be used against you, it will. You know that if there is publicly available information usable to cast aspersions on you, it will be broadcast. If you don’t know these things, you’re an idiot.
So why are you complaining about them?
Right now Twitter is so overburdened with drama kings and queens it’s impossible to keep track without a very large scorecard. Someone said something bad about me. Someone called me a name. Someone tried to destroy me two years ago. Someone’s trying to destroy me now. I’m being persecuted. I’m being violated. I’m being threatened because… well, because someone used a search engine to find out stuff that’s out there for anyone who knows how to use a search engine. PAY ATTENTION TO ME WHILE I’M PLAYING THE MARTYR OVER PEOPLE PAYING ATTENTION TO ME!!!
Okay, butthurt boys and girls.
You begged for attention with every tweet and blog post. You craved the spotlight. You dreamed of becoming, and schemed about how to become, the ace face. And now you’re whining about how unfair it is people are making you the center of attention even as you rip into anyone who doesn’t make you their center of attention?
Did you genuinely think everyone would shower you with rose petals? Did you, and do you, believe everyone else should drop everything else for the sole purpose of making you the star of the movie? Are you sincerely astonished when others decline your demand to join your pity party over every perceived affront? Do you honestly wonder why everyone doesn’t rally to your cause when your life consists of endless 140 character melodramas? Do you?
You wanted to be a Twitter star. Okay, fine. You’re a Twitter star. You got what you wanted. You also got everything that comes with it whether you wanted it or not. Deal or disengage by turning social media off and turning toward doing something else with your time. In case you should choose to do so — which you almost doubtless won’t as your need for attention is too ravenous for any course other than the one you’re on — here’s a news flash for you. Ready?
