Honky Tonkin

I’d like to show you all something I’m very proud of,
those in the front will have to move back a
little………

I’m not sure how to go about this or even explain it,
but “Don” has so baffled me with his own protracted
confusion, I now stand fascinated.

I need to understand this man a little better. He and
I occupy opposite extremes at the polarity of common
vs. uncommon sense. I simply cannot believe over half the
shit that comes out of his mouth with the sincerity
and abandon on his part, of some sort of holy warrior
patriot.

One of us is most certainly and completely, wrong.

I hope it’s not me.

As woefully misguided as I estimate him, he seems to
mean what he says. As frightening as that may be, I
need to have a better grip on it.

Should I send a friend request?

I imagine he already understands that on my blog,
he is something of a sideshow freak, long after
the circus has left town. At the very least, he is a
limbless man/boy named Matt or a repulsive woman
with a silky beard. No less than a pariah to some of you.

His indefatigable willingness of participation to my blog, has
allowed us far more than a brush with a freak that we
wouldn’t typically have been afforded such intimate exposure to in such close quarters.

I kinda feel smeared.

Forgive me though, I’m curious.

What confounds me so much; the man is clearly
not stupid. Far from splitting the atom, he still
writes and expresses himself reasonably well. And he
has conviction. In his own mind and perhaps even his
heart, he speaks truth.

How can that be? He reflexively vomits right wing
caustic bigoted and boilerplate bile immediately upon
being challenged or confronted. It is a learned
behavior. Pavlovian.

He performs it with churlish indignity.

Where does such volume of passion, for what is all but
a quivering house of cards, come from? How can that
be? It makes no sense.

Fear. The great force multiplier.

An effort has been made to influence every one of us
with the cudgel of fear that equalizes our dignity
while multiplying our reptilian impulsions for
bloodshed and carnage.

The Cold War. I grew up in literal fear of nuclear
war. We actually had drills and were shown violent
and ominous movies. My fear was palpable, it was
fucking chewy. In the end, we didn’t blow them up.
We outspent them. And America was damn near broke by
the time that infamous Wall fell.

During that time, heavy pockets got heavier. Lite
pockets got lighter. The birth of contemporary
plutocracy. The concentration of wealth through fear
as the the great wealth multiplier.

We are now in that loop, only it’s version V.2.7.

See what I’m saying?

Guys like Don paid good money for this shit and they
want to see some dead “sandmonkeys” on TV. They don’t
want to see black men with an education, much less
nicer rims on their cars. That is an affront to men
like Don. He is afraid. He learned to be.

When he’s not afraid, he’s at least distracted, probably annoyed, He’s just watched Fox and probably got his ass kicked as a kid.

It is so very compelling that he was so willing to
assume that I was neglected and/or abused as a child.
I wasn’t.

FEAR.

See what I’m saying?

Don, and all the people like him are small, by virtue
of fear.

“There is nothing to fear, but fear itself”-FDR

Maybe, just maybe, the point is not to hold Don up as
the example.

Maybe the onus is on us. Individually.
Responsibility. Accountability.

See what I’m saying?

Drinks for my friends.

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