Thursday, February 24, 2011

A Just-Plain-Nasty Republican in Georgia

I have been away for a while. . . in the South!  I enjoyed my trip and I especially enjoyed seeing my family.  My visit gave me a lot to think about, especially concerning my family and my life now and in the future.

But Justin Rosario hijacked my brain, and I have to write about his posting on, Why Pretend that the GOP Actually Gives a Damn about you?  Or “Liberals Hate America?  Who Are You Kidding?”

Justin does his usual articulate job in presenting the sickening discrepancies between what the republicans say and what they mean.  He says what needs to be said and read, and he says it well.

Another “older” fan (another Geezer?) writes this in reaction to what Justin posted today:

“Hey Justin, you know I agree with the substance of your articulate work, this article being no exception. You ring many bells of resonance for this old reader. The only thin...g I have trouble with, is your use of pejorative labels and name-calling. Isn't that really about being sucked into the same language dynamic, projective mire, and the public identity of the very political machine you critique? Or perhaps, you are comfortable with this as your journalistic persona --- with some goal, I'm too dull to see. I'm sure you'll explain it to me, and my fog will clear. Meanwhile, I am on a dead-end quest to embrace my own shadow, and find some new way to assimilate polarities. Sounds like nuclear fusion, eh?

“ever a fan of your scurrilous blogs –


Justin doesn’t need me to explain his rhetoric, and I wouldn’t even try.  I have to write about this comment for my own reasons. 

As a Geezer raised during the time of the Eisenhower, Kennedy, and Johnson administrations, I grew up with an understanding of the clear boundaries for political and civil discourse.  People were polite to one another, even when they hated one another’s guts.  Even Nixon, as Vice President, never said “Fuck you!” to one of his many enemies in the Senate, as Dick Cheney said to Senator Patrick Leahy on the Senate floor.

Times have changed, though, and republicans like Cheney changed them.  Palin, Beck, Limbaugh, et al., have accelerated and intensified this change.  Anyone with whom they disagree is attacked viciously and personally.  Ideas no longer are paramount in our discourse, it seems to me.  Personality assassination rules.

My brother and his family took me to lunch at a restaurant in Unicoi State Park, a gorgeous state park in Georgia.  The lunch menu was a buffet of traditional Southern fare, including fried catfish and hush puppies.  My father’s family is from the South, and I grew up relishing this kind of food, prepared with a lot of love and a lot of lard by my grandmother.  The food on the buffet table was authentic and absolutely delicious.

As we were walking to the restaurant, the local Red Hat Society arrived for lunch in a Mercedes Benz bus.  I spoke with some of these women, and I was treated to a feast of true Georgia accents and true Southern charm.  It was all I could do not to ask them if I could eat at their table.  These women were Southern to the core, and, judging by their clothes and jewelry, not poor.  Probably republican, I thought, but still so appealing to me that I wanted to sit down and soak up their conversation.  Several of the women chatted with me all the way to the buffet table.

When we went into the restaurant, we had to get in a short line to serve ourselves from the buffet.  One of the Red Hat ladies, totally immersed in our chat, didn’t get the protocol.  She absent–mindedly grabbed her plate and started filling it with food.  At the head of the line were two men in scruffy suits, bellies bigger than I can describe.  One of them actually had a red neck.  The red neck said, loud enough for everybody to hear, “She must be a Democrat.  They all think that they should be the first to get what’s being given out.”  The ladies with whom I was chatting went silent, as did I.  I had no idea what to say to such rudeness.  The lady filling her plate wasn’t so intimidated, however.  She looked at the red–necked one and said, “Sir, the last Democrat for whom I voted was my Daddy’s friend, Herman Talmadge.”

Justin writes, “I’ve been asked why I constantly call conservatives “idiots', 'morons', 'imbeciles', 'suckers', 'retarded', 'stupid', 'dumb', oh you get the point and I usually point to stuff like this. For some reason, it’s never enough to prove my point.”

There is an axiom in the art of rhetoric that tells practitioners of that art always to use language that the audience understands.  Jason’s language probably falls short of that dictum.  He is much too thoughtful, educated, caring, and civil to reach the depths of gratuitous insult that is the discourse of people like the red–necked, ignorant, rude, uncaring, and just–plain–nasty republican at that buffet table in Georgia.

1 comment:

  1. Justin is an idiot and a whore for the tax predator ruling class. All the gay kids bullied because their parents have no school choice and cannot send them to a better school, all the kids murdered by Obama's predator drones, all the people jobless in Obama's great depression, are on his bloody hands.