Posts Tagged ‘bellicose’

New Facelift, Front End Loader, No More A Fence Sitter

12 Jan


Young Constitutionalist


Well, I took out some time today to go fresh on this ole page. While I haven't been too active on the blog here, I have been quite active on the Scenewash Project blogs, especially, The Bellicose Augur. All you PC whinos and imaginary peaceniks looking to pick a fight with a dyed in the wool fight picker, head on over, and give me a blast of your cheapest, spoiled bellicose...

I can take it. And send it right back. I've finally gotten off the fence. And come loaded with buckshot and enough trailblazing stories to melt the moon...

You'd think I had AIDS with all the symptoms I sport every day like clockwork beige, but no it's just fruited plain variety obesity, hyperthyroidism, pre-diabetes, and a will to remember not to forget why I wanted to be here in the first place. I have a clear idea of who I am, and what I believe. That is has taken me this long to grasp cleanly what I actually knew in Mrs. Middleton's 4th grade glass when I chose Goldwater in '64, and Nixon in '72, two direct swings at the emotionless stare of my fellow classmates, in the first case, homework assignment endorsement Democrats all, every single classmate cast a vote for Johnson, as did each of their parents. My own two parental units when pressed at the dinner table both admitted they probably wouldn't vote but they guessed they were Democrats. Fortunately they didn't care enough to question further the early impatience of the one who went rogue, so it was essentially an 89-1 vote for Lyndon Baines Johnson. Well, I backed a loser. Fourth graders. What did I know? In the second case, well, let's just say it was easy for me to support Nixon. I had grown up watching him on TV, and I liked him. We had a lot in common some of which I've briefly outlined elsewhere...

Some class homework we had. Soon enough though the south would turn, so I wasn't the only one spotting troubles at home...

New facelift, front end loader, no more a fence sitter,



"Ignorance and virtue suck on the same straw. Souls grow on bones, but die beneath bankers' hours.""