So now, as predicted, we’re seeing all the usual ostentatious, self-serving displays of “grief,” and are told again and again that we’re “honoring our dead,” “paying tribute to the victims” of the latest Muslim atrocity with them. All over the country and the world, people are lighting candles, giving each other a nice hug, and having themselves a good cry over the sadness of it all. And almost nowhere do you see anyone proposing to do the one thing that would truly and appropriately honor the dead: making sure it never happens again, by swiftly and brutally avenging them.
How the hell does it do anything but dishonor to both the dead and ourselves to make a big public show of pathetic weakness and grief for them? This isn’t honor; it’s disgrace. Exhibit A:
I cried all day.
I cried walking to the subway. I cried on the subway. I cried when I got off the subway. I cried while giving a tourist directions to Chelsea Market; I think she may have asked me because maybe only true New Yorkers are comfortable crying in public here. I cried walking to work. I cried at work. I cried when I left work early because I couldn’t stop crying. I cried sitting on a stoop in Chelsea, talking on the phone with friends. I cried knowing one of my best friends was coming to New York tonight and he would be the perfect person to be hugged by and cry with on a day like today. I can’t stop crying.
I am gay. I don’t know if I’ve officially said that on the internet, though I’ve certainly hinted at it, and I’ve said it plenty in real life. I am gay.
I am also from Orlando.
I don’t know when I’ll stop crying. I want to stop crying. I want to stand proud and be brave. But also, I don’t want to have to be brave. Why should I have to be brave?
Because you live in something some of us like to call the Real World, honey, and it can be cold and ugly and hard. There are bad people living in it, unswervingly determined to do very bad things to others, and if we don’t stop them their badness will only spread and grow stronger like the plague it truly is. Relying on others (the military) to be brave for you so you don’t have to is what we’ve been depending on for decades, but when the plague has spread so far and become so firmly entrenched—and when we’re busy importing as much of the plague virus as we can to come and live right in our very midst—that method just won’t work anymore.
In the Real World, if you don’t get brave, you’ll eventually get dead.
Your mama should have told you about all this long, long ago, but apparently that’s yet another of those Jobs Americans Just Won’t Do nowadays.
Can trembling milksops like this actually for one moment really believe all that “Love Wins!” flapdoodle they spout? Can there be a single living soul on this planet willing to arm himself with a pen to take on someone wielding a sword to prove once and for all the old tommyrot about which is mightier? Can there really be anyone so enamored of the smell of their own bullshit as to be willing to spend every minute of their day inhaling it? Anyone who really thinks they’re going to accomplish a damned thing by mouthing empty words to the effect that they intend to “Stand against terrorism!” when what they’re actually doing—rather than bothering to, y’know, stand up, which is just too hard—is lying down, rolling over, and presenting their yellow bellies and exposed necks to it?
Do you people really think that coming out on the lucky side of the draw and surviving merely to die another day because you didn’t happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time is somehow going to win this war?
And what about all this “cried all day” stuff anyway? Maybe that might almost be appropriate for the girl who posted the above piteous and contemptible wallowing in her own funk, since she’s a former Orlando resident and patron of the club; presumably, she may still have had people she was close to there and who might have been present and done tragic harm. But what the hell are all the others across the globe doing weeping so copiously over people they don’t even know personally, and never will? Do these poor fragile souls have similar day-long nervous breakdowns every time they drive past a bad accident on the freeway or see one on the 6 o’clock news? And what the hell has convinced them that they should be displaying such evidence of mental disorder publicly, as if if fragility and neurosis had somehow become a badge of honor, a virtue they should be proud of instead of a flaw for which they should probably be seeking some sort of professional medical assistance in overcoming?
Can you people at long last come around to the idea that cowardice, laziness, and obstinate clinging to a delusional fantasy are not characteristics of which any decent, worthwhile, honorable person should be proud—and are CERTAINLY not pillars on which Western civilization can stand for its survival? If not, can you at least somehow search through the fog of your near-impenetrable self-regard to find the decency, honesty, and clarity to tell us how many more of us must be slaughtered like pigs in an abattoir before you will? What price, exactly, are willing to have others pay to prop up your mistaken feelings of moral superiority? What will be the butcher’s bill for liberal guilt? Are you willing to finally tot it up for us? And if not, why not?
If you really want to honor your dead, you man up and do whatever you must to make sure there are a lot fewer of them in the future. You damned sure don’t fall back on making yourself feel better by making a public display of your own supposed virtue in “grieving” for people you never met and will most assuredly have forgotten all about in a couple more weeks or months, when it all happens again and the whole sick-making spectacle repeats itself.
New category inspired by this ignoble rot: “Culture of Cowardice.” Sadly, I should have done it long ago.
Update! A further thought on all this: “Love Wins!” ONLY when it’s used as a club against decent people living in a contemporary, tolerant society whose inhabitants by and large don’t think it’s worth it to draw sharp, hard lines around weaklings and fools, who are willing to let them win rather than waste time fighting real wars over nebulous bullshit. In the Real World, amongst the Bad People, not so much. Here, most of us are willing to respond to the Brat Left’s Tantrum Of The Week by shrugging and saying, “To heck with it, let the whiny little snowflakes have their way. It ain’t worth killing them over.”
Until one day, it IS. That day comes when the rest of us realize that weakness, cowardice, and foolishness are getting the rest of us killed along with the fools. Then, watch out. On that day, if it comes, you might REALLY have something to cry about. Which is another thing your mama should have told you about.
Progress of a sort update! The antidote. Well, sorta.
Yes, there is a war between religious fundamentalism and the spirit of love and tolerance. But we progressives here in America still labor under the delusion that the religion we need to combat is Christianity. But that’s a strawman opponent, and has been so for decades. Since the 1990s, Christian extremists have essentially lost all their power, and are now toothless nonplayers in the “culture wars.” Meanwhile, Muslim extremists, with guns, murder us, and on the left our only response is to bleat about “Islamophobia” and jump through hoops trying to explain away the self-evident religious motivation for the killings.
Oh sure, all year I’ve been playing the “Bernie or Hillary?” game with all the other default-Democrats in my social and professional circles. But this is no longer some kind of game. Our lives are on the line. Although I voted for Hillary in the primary, I now cringe inwardly with shame and embarrassment at having done so, and in November I will vote for Trump.
I also now realize, with brutal clarity, that in the progressive hierarchy of identity groups, Muslims are above gays. Every pundit and politician — and that includes President Obama and Hillary Clinton and half the talking heads on TV — who today have said “We don’t know what the shooter’s motivation could possibly be!” have revealed to me their true priorities: appeasing Muslims is more important than defending the lives of gay people. Every progressive who runs interference for Islamic murderers is complicit in those murders, and I can no longer be a part of that team.
I’m just sick of it. Sick of the hypocrisy. Sick of the pandering. Sick of the deception.
And you know what makes me angrier still? The fact that I have to hide my identity and remain anonymous in writing this essay. If I outed myself as a Trump supporter, I would be harassed and doxxed and shunned by everyone I know and by the Twitter lynch mobs which up until yesterday I myself led.
I am ashamed.
Yeah, well, hate to say it, but you damned well oughta be. It took you way too long to realize what some of us have been shouting from the rooftops for years now, at least since 9/11 if not before. But welcome aboard at long last, anyway. Better late than never, and better late than too late for sure.