11 September 2024
In political terms, I’m an independent, or, more precisely, I am independent.
That label has brought to me no end of mis-labelling, mis-understanding, mis-appropriating of an identity, and missed opportunities for a certain stripe of American to truly know me.
Usually, I am mis-taken for a Liberal. Living in California has only added to this mis-perception.
Even the Liberals here would take me under their manipulative wing, until I left their smelly viper’s nest. Their responses to my having gotten away from their webs of deception prompted me, at one juncture in my life during the early 1980s, to live a very covert existence. All so that I could live to not tell.
Or, in the case of my first novel, NORTHSTAR, to tell.
When my Dear Husband first met me, in 1984, he thought that I was in some sort of witness protection program.
And I was. I’d witnessed, starting from a very young age, too many sins and crimes!
During the aftermath of the 1992 election of the Co-Presidents, a friend from my home state of New Jersey called me, concerned about my mental state about a lying draft-dodging rapist being elected President.
He confessed: “I was afraid you’d become a liberal. You’ve always been a power-to-the-people person.”
“Well,” I replied. “In case you haven’t noticed, the Republicans are now in favor of that constitutional right.”
That Bill of Rights presently needs fact-checkers!
I was always able to handily debate the mis-perceived opinions of this dyed-in-the-wool Democrat son of a union thug. Such was never the case with the Moderates, or the Mushy Middle, or the Undecideds, or, to cite a completely mis-used term, the Independents. The Moderate could never belly up to a finite thought. It used to drive me nuts. For my own sanity, I’ve had to avoid them, like a viral plague.
The Moderate in America is a gutless non-wonder. He, or she, has allowed the courageous and the cunning among us to do the heavy lifting of engaging the cowardly liberals, for decades. The Moderate then rises up from his fetal position of indecisiveness to proclaim that he’s risen above partisan politics and the Politics of Personal Destruction, and he will therefore deign to vote for So-and-So.
I do not understand the type of person who will stand on the sidelines and NOT take a stance during a crisis. I don’t want to comprehend that lack of intestinal fortitude. I’ve had too many years of contending with it, the selfish mollusks who won’t take a side, or won’t judge. They call it being neutral, or, ahem, independent.
It’s not being neutral. It’s being a passive coward. It is the embodiment of this immortal quote by Edmund Burke, the Irish statesman and conservative philosopher whose time on earth was brief, 1729-1797:
“The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.”
Not to quibble with this verity by Mr. Burke, but I do I ponder the goodness of anyone who does nothing in the face of evil.
I’ve seen, and felt the consequences, of too many individuals who dodge doing the right thing, or, even worse, do the right thing, for the wrong reason.
And I take exception to the Americans who took part in the holiday from history of the 1990s, that led to 9/11; and who categorically refused to believe that the Democrats could possibly be traitors to their nation.
“You cannot question their patriotism,” I was told ad nauseam by the morally smug moderates.
Shortly after 9/11, I informed one Moderate Radio Talk Show Host in Sacramento, on the air, that the Dems are putting on a show, but they’ll do the bidding of the Arabs when enough money comes their way.
He was speechless before vehemently denying that possibility. “We’re all so united now! How can you say that?”
Well, I just did say that. And I continued to say it, countless times, right up through the Benghazi atrocity that got covered up by the Obama Regime, which led directly to the slimy lies and stupidities of the Biden regime.
You cannot count on the Moderate to be decisive, except for acting upon the motives of selfishness, greed, expediency, false sense of security, false sense of togetherness, false sense of being in the majority on this one.
This feeling of safety-in-numbers: It’s a concept that I have a hard time understanding. I do not malign people who buy into the notion, but when the blob fails to be the mechanism that protects them, they need to assess their skewed model of reality. I steer as clear as I can of the type of person who believes that if 1 million people huddle, in place, together, nothing can harm them.
It’s a variation of the truism by Anatole France, the French poet, journalist and novelist. In his day, which not merely during his lifetime, from 16 April 1844 to 12 October 1924, but beyond those years — Monsieur France was deemed the ideal French man of letters.
His nobility of style, acerbic wit, graceful irony, and overall Gallic temperament made him a man to be admired and emulated. Today, he’d be banned globally, online, and impugned by the puny President of France.
Anatole spoke for all true French, and for all true patriots in any nation, especially in the U.S. of A., when he so logically and honestly said:
“If 50 million people say a foolish thing, it is still a foolish thing.”
My variation of that sensible statement is:
“If 50 million people believe in a foolish thing, it is still a foolish thing.”
The Moderate will try to find a way to defend the foolish thing. Being alone is the one thing the Moderate cannot abide.
Unlike the Independent, he, or she, needs those fellow fools to hold hands with, while the rest of us boldly face the music, and dance, and defeat the lies that the Moderates must weigh, and parse, and make excuses for. Anything, just so he doesn’t have to come to a final decision. Just so he can stay in the middle of the road and not have to choose sides.
My advice — as The Independent — to the fence-straddler called The Moderate is:
Get out of the middle of the road. The Silent Majority is coming through!
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