I was reading Jim Geraghty’s “Morning Ace Quotes” column today and it occurred to me: a multitude of disparate voices aren’t really necessary any longer in a failed erstwhile constitutional republic like ours, especially so long as we have properly networked realists pointing out, to each other and in an endless feedback loop of links and retweets, should their barometers tell them the time is ripe, how, eg., the media is unfair to conservatives and has a double standard when it comes to probing wedge issues (unless, of course, the conservative in question happens to be some dumb snowbilly embarrassment; or maybe a former witch apprentice; or some businessman or doctor with no “practical” experience to run the government — and therefore, an unserious player whose very intrusion into big boy politics is just so much distraction: those presumptuous fuckers get the beatings they deserve, and the pragmatists who join the left in excoriating them are merely doing some pruning, for our own electoral good!).
I mean, the right-side blogosphere has done the “liberal hypocrisy” thing for over a dozen years now, and it seems to be what sells, particularly among the insular crowd who has taken an Army of Davids and “managed it” into a more elite fighting force of its own conceit. Call it, “an army of centrally-edited clearinghouse sites who will decide for you who is given a voice and who isn’t.” We, as a movement, have become but the scribblers of finger-in-the-wind jeremiads — of endlessly changing philosophical stances designed to fit the mood of the current political climate.
That kind of atmosphere is completely alien to me, and I can no longer breathe in it. It is petty, egotistical, and carefully policed — not just on blogs but on Twitter and other social media platforms, as well.
I thank you all for your support over the years, my dear readers and online friends — those few of you who are left — but my time on the stage, such as it was and has been, is through.
Party politics as team sport is not something I’m interested in playing. I’ll leave that to the fake wonks and the wannabe amateur pollsters who litter the “new media” landscape like so many discarded bumperstickers. The political blogosphere is not the place of academic or even philosophical ideas, nor is it any longer conducive to unearthing, examining, and revealing the kinds of kernel assumptions that create the very conditions we conservatives (a label whose meaning has been watered so thin that Oliver Twist would need several helpings just to fill his stomach) constantly bitch about.
Instead, it’s all about the bitching — though the more “nuanced” writers on “our” side will often take a different tack and try to appear more equanimous, a stance they believe sets them apart from the typical shrieking wingnuttery that so embarrasses them and that therefore evinces from them a kind of “thoughtful” waffling that in actuality is intellectual cowardice masquerading as sober deference. But hey, at least they get invited to the internet version of the Oscars every year, where they celebrate each other and, beyond that, provide very little that amounts to anything but a reinforcement of the status quo. And maybe bring home a collectible mug with a flag on it.
Since I started writing daily, back in Dec of 2001, I’ve watched a once robust blogosphere become a cheerleading competition, a pair of competing Mean Girls tables, and the backstabbing and cliquishness of the thing has so thoroughly soured me on it all that most days I don’t know why I bother.
And if I can’t figure out any longer why I bother, it seems to me best not to.
It’s really no secret what’s happened to protein wisdom — a “has been” site that certain people worked very hard to leave in that condition. People I once championed and defended. People I worked with on occasion. People whom I’ve visited and who have visited me. People who I thought would have my back, but instead who only viewed it as a place to stick their knives. Never in plain site. Never from the front. But always from behind, and in stealth. For which they’ll eventually have to swallow the shame.
Frankly, it’s time for me to tell them all to go to hell. And I can do that with impunity, because they don’t much care what I have to say, my reach having been effectively stymied, all by design. Though most of them haven’t the sack to admit it.
As this month’s fundraiser dribbles to a lackluster close, with the marketplace clearly telling me my insights aren’t especially valuable any longer, it seems like a good time for me to bow off the stage. Unless and until I can re-invent myself as something other than the shunned, pseudo academic, pyschosexually violent and predatory destroyer of the Noble and Virtuous and politically sane champions of the GOP cause — which ain’t gonna happen.
I mean, I gotta be me, right?
And staying true to that means I surrender the field to the positioners, the poseurs, the “pragmatists,” the “realists,” the “serious” and “sober” and “nuanced” thinkers on our side who have, since the initial boom of the political blogosphere, given us a supermajority Democrat Congress, the disastrous end to the Bush years, McCain and Romney presidential runs, the “Good Man” Obama with his crisp pant crease and the debt and destruction he had hidden in his pockets, and a spirited defense of every justification why it’s good and righteous to savage activist conservatives, particularly those running for office, who make any kind of gaffe that can be “used against us” by a media that will always find a way to create the soundbite they need to harm us, context be damned.
In short? Gggghah. Last bridges burned. With no regrets. The field belongs to the I’M OUTRAGED crowd — whose answer to every real question concerning the unraveling of our republic is to find moderates “who can be elected.” Frankly? They’re impotent preachers to the choir, and they bore the everloving shit out of me these days.