Yes, that post title is the closing line from 2010: The Year We Make Contact, in case any of you were flummoxed by the reference. I am a walking repository of niche pop culture from the '70s and '80s, as followers of my podcasts and Constitution Radio are already aware, and love using their references to illustrate points. Which only consistently works when my audience isn't below the age of forty or so; some time back I was explaining something to a youngster the tender age of 27 and made an Artie Johnson/Laugh-In reference ("Veeeeeerrry Interesting..."). He just stared at me like a gaffed fish. Which is most of the rest of why I indulge in this pastime. What's that saying? "If you can't convince 'em, confuse 'em." Because as often as not, they're already pretty confused to begin with.
Anyhoo, since today is "Status Update Day" on Political Pistachio, I thought I would do my part to rip off Facebook in these hallowed environs. Starting with the trap door that opened on Thursday afternoon about a third of the way through the Hard Starboard Radio podcast. My blogcasting computer bluescreened and took my router down with it; I couldn't reconnect to Blog Talk Radio and spent most of the day yesterday procuring a replacement and hanging on the phone with a gentleman from the other side of the planet who sounded like his office was sublet from the QuickieMart getting it set up on my home network. $120 later it's STILL not completely set up, but I'm back online where it counts. Just didn't want anybody to labor under the misconception that I was tied up in Ted Cruz's basement or something. While the Landlord may be "baaaaaaaack," I have, in fact, not departed.
In point of fact, I have technically been here for quite some time - several years, in fact. I haven't posted much, or at all, until the past few weeks because until recently I, too, had an "incredible" schedule, which effectively shut down my own blog sufficiently that the hackers took down whatever was left. The freeing up of my time coincided serendipitously with the congressman-in-waiting's embarkation on the road to high office, and I have been able, pleased, and honored to "keep the lights on," even if some of you can't always say the same.
But you know what? That's okay. Disagreements between friends, allies, and comrades happen all the time; that need not turn them into enemies, particularly when they, and those depending upon them, really need each other. Or so I have always thought.
I would not classify myself as "establishment," as I've always been far more of an outsider than I've ever been a "joiner". Nor do I consider myself "Republican Party," as, believe it or not, I've engaged in more than one anti-"establishment" rant over the years. Which I'd be happy to regale any listeners/readers with upon request.
No, friends, I am a Reagan/Buckley conservative - and, from what I can see, perhaps the last one. Reagan in the sense that I am an across-the-board, rock-ribbed right-winger, but have learned not to take life too seriously (...."or you'll never get out of it alive," as Bugs Bunny used to say) or to underestimate the need to cultivate, recruit - and convince - allies if the Cause is to ultimately succeed; Buckley in the sense that "Standing astride history, yelling, 'STOP!'" is but the first step in a very long counter trek, the corollary being, "A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, it doesn't consist of one" - and doesn't justify breaking one's own legs for not being long enough.
I am also "the twenty-first century Jeremiah". Like the ancient Jewish prophet, it has become my lot in life to dispense unhappy truths to countrymen who don't want to hear them. I haven't been thrown down a cistern yet, so to that extent "gentleness" would be appreciated. But otherwise it makes no nevermind to me how spirited any of y'all want to get when I take the Tea Party to well-deserved task. It's the pioneers who take the arrows, after all. And being a long time veteran of many a message board war with the worst flying monkey brigades the Left has to offer, I can say with unshakable confidence that no TPer would ever conceive of the kind of profane, obscene, depraved ripostes that have oozed and seeped across my monitor screen. Which is the actual definition of "tripe," by the way.
"I am large, I contain multitudes" - but I never contradict myself. That I let myself remember, anyway. If I do, blame it on Walt Whitman, the filthy RINO.
Seeing as how it's highly doubtful that Mr. Gibbs will get less busy any time soon, I'll still be a regular contributor here. Perhaps cross-posting once I set up new digs of my own, but posting here nonetheless. For, to quote Ambassador Spock, "Nowhere am I so desperately needed as among a shipload of illogical Tea Partiers."
Besides, if Doug wins, he just might wind up as my boss. If that isn't incentive enough for y'all to bust a spleen to cashier Ken Calvert, nothing is.