I'm taking a step back from the Woundup for awhile. Evidence to the contrary notwithstanding.
I've started a new blogging life elsewhere. I won't link to it from here because I really don't like what the Woundup represents right now. The Woundup, as the name implies, is all about being keyed up about something or other, usually involving the stupidity that is American politics today, and writing about it as if I were some sort of rabid commentator with a point of view worth sharing with the world.
All blogs of a political nature start that way, don't they? We write missive after missive about The State of Things. We spend countless hours trying to find that very clever voice that people will just fall over themselves to read and admire, then sit around wondering why the linkage never happened.
I can't honestly say that it happened exactly that way for me, though. I never really deluded myself with the idea that my writing was of any real interest to more than a handful of my closest friends, family, and a few hangers-on.
However, I can say - with certainty - that I dislike what this experience has brought me. High levels of stress, increased sarcasm and cynicism, and an unhealthy dislike of our modern political process. I saw these aspects of my writing developing over a period of years in the waning days of the Bush administration, and have seen them rise with alarming rapidity in the opening days of the Obama administration.
I can't read about health care reform without getting angry. Nearly violently so. Not that I would ever direct this anger at anyone in the physical world. No, I really am far too pacifistic for that. But I see that anger manifest itself in these posts and feel somehow... not ashamed, but grief-stricken, as if for someone who had come to a tragic end. What a waste, people might say about Woody. He never really had a chance, did he?
Well, that may be true, if one were to judge Woody merely on the totality of these writings. I, more than anyone else including my critics, know that I am not a political analyst of any caliber. I have no legal background. I am not highly placed in corporate America so I cannot drive the market for better or for worse. I can only observe and offer my views.
Which have become angry. So very, very angry.
I despise the direction this country is taking. That's not just the Republican in me speaking. That's the experience of a man who has watched wistfully as his own party slowly but inexorably denied its own roots to become little better than the opposition at keeping America free from its increasingly socialist tendencies. I see now a country in total disarray. People who refuse to kneel at the altar of nationalized health care are branded as Nazis. Unions are mobilizing now to infiltrate the same Town Hall meetings where people asked pointed questions of their elected representatives so they can "punch back twice as hard." The mob mentality was never sharper than it is today, working on behalf of Obamacare.
And as my stress levels rise in response to these stimuli, so also does my spiritual connection with my Creator necessarily decrease. Thus I must make a decision. Continue to cull through so much material about which to write my snarky blog posts, or take a step back and try to preserve my mental and spiritual energies.
There really is no choice. The Woundup must slow to a crawl and stay there for the foreseeable future.
In the meantime, as I mentioned before, I blog elsewhere. The Inner Dad will slowly dissipate in favor of the new blog I started over at Wordpress. If you must find me, look for me there. You'll still see references to Woody, but Woody will be much more contemplative in his approach to his writing, at least until these toxins are expelled from my system.
One last thing: I do not and will not apologize for what I've written here. Those opinions were and (mostly) still are valid. They represent what I feel, particularly when pointing out the foibles of politicians and their blatantly unthinking legislation. For that reason alone, I don't believe the Woundup will ever disappear completely. There will come a time when the pen must try to outshout the sword, particularly when Congress and the President try to force socialized health care down our throats.
When that happens, I'm sure I'll have more to say. I can't deny who I am, after all, and I still occasionally get wound up.
MAYBE THEY COULD EXERCISE ON THE TOILET?
4 hours ago