Yes, it’s been four years since my column debuted in this fishwrap. This prompts consideration whether another four years is advisable. For the time being, I’ll answer in the affirmative.
Frankly, I never thought this gig would last as long as it has – so, I suppose I’m required to express some gratitude to the whip hand in these here parts. I certainly am thankful for the thoughtful readers who either comment on my articles online or take the extra time to fire off an email. I enjoy reading them – yes, even those that take me to task.
It’s sorta kinda fun being the only literary-minded outdoorsman in this real estate who also happens to be a small “c” conservative, small “l” libertarian, capital “R” and “C” Roman Catholic. Yup, in the words of an industry that formerly declared me a member, that’s my brand.
And it’s a brand I take both seriously and light-heartedly. Sometimes I get it wrong, or at least change my mind after hitting the “send” button. But, then I figure it’s okay simply to let it ride. Let the ideologues among us check every jot and tittle to ensure their prose conforms to their narrow, postage-stamp narratives of racism, never-Trumpism and anti-Republicanism,
I seem to recall one specific local columnist who boasted about and later defended his decision to cast a primary vote in favor of Trump, declaring it an actual vote for Hillary Clinton. Oops! That didn’t end well for his team, did it? The phrase “too clever by half” seems fitting here.
Trump’s win did grant the columnist in question however the eventual opportunity to scoff at the Commander in Chief’s choice of ketchup as a steak condiment, so there’s that. The Morning Sun has been lacking a food writer for far too long, after all. It seems Woodward and Bernstein’s legacy of taking down presidents has been passed on to a new generation of writers also thoroughly steeped in Frank Bruni. Interestingly enough, neither the referenced columnist nor Bruni had much to say about the previous president’s culinary history that included consuming dog meat. Not hot dogs, coney dogs or Alpo, either. Real Bowsers, Spots and Lassies.
As for two other local scribes, I discern a faint whiff of vinegar or at least sour milk poured on the breakfast cereal accompanying their Morning Joe each day. It has to be exhausting for them to perform what amounts to hall monitor duties in these pages with the current president residing in their respective brains 24/7.
It all conjures for me a made-up scene from The Exorcist wherein bile is substituted for spewed pea soup. Every accusation or outlandish charge against the president is granted credence and repeated incessantly. Even positive accomplishments are spun negatively, and followed by the collective “we must” do something or another to stem the evil tide. Because, you know, the Thirteenth Amendment to the U.S. Constitution might get repealed any day now. And, oh yeah, climate change.
Aesop related the story of the boy who cried wolf too many times. When the previously absent wolf finally appeared, nobody believed the boy and his flock of sheep perished. Wouldn’t it be better if – instead of perpetually presenting listicles of presumed improprieties and illegalities in the unlikelihood one of them sticks somewhere down the road – our writers here and nearly every place else toned down the style?
The old Bunker Hill adage comes to mind: “Don’t shoot until you see the whites of their eyes.” By which it is meant ensuring your initial accusations have merit before expending too much rhetorical ammunition espousing them. Additionally, you might want to change up the subject matter once in a while.
Bruce Edward Walker (walker.editorial@gmail.com) is a Morning Sun columnist, contributor to The Federalist, creative-writing instructor, freelance writer, and host of the Acton Institute’s “Upstream” contemporary-culture podcast.