Monday, October 11, 2010

Special People Sometimes Act...Well...Special

Most of my progressive friends are really as open-minded as they claim to be. In my gradual metamorphosis from progressive Democrat to Libertarian conservative, I have managed to keep almost all my friends. They may think I've gone nuts, but they still love me.

I especially tip my hat to the editor at Whosoever magazine, for which I frequently write. Candace Chellew-Hodge is everything a progressive should be: bright, open-minded, inquisitive and fair. She understands that religious faith is all about the search for truth. Her magazine exemplifies that conviction -- and I can truly say she also does so in her life.

One local friend, a former fellow church-member I'll call Sandy, has turned out to be the sole objector to my conversion in political faith. She just can't STAND that I no longer agree with her on political matters. She picks at our differences like a child picking at a scab.

I cannot help but notice, in Sandy's almost-daily preachments, that she regurgitates -- almost word-for-word, things the progressive "talking heads" have said. (She doesn't seem to realize that I still make a point of listening to both sides.) They may be her opinions, but she seems utterly incapable of expressing them in her own words.

Statist mind-manipulators on both sides -- Left and Right -- have discovered that if they play on people's insecurities, they can make them feel they must belong to their club. Those on the Right usually put forth the notion one can't be a loyal Amurrican or a godly Christian without being conservative. On the Left, this snake-oil is usually sold under the guise of "This You Must Think to be Smart, Sophisticated, Hip and Evolved."

Sandy wants nothing so much as to be smart, sophisticated, hip and evolved. Thus -- she seems to think -- she must identify as a "progressive." I'm not saying ALL progressives are like this. But hers is the worst case I've ever seen of it.

Regardless of which "club" such a person has signed up for, I call this syndrome "Political Opinion as Fashion Accessory." I made the mistake of finally telling her my diagnosis. This seems to have torn it for us as friends.

She may not understand this, but I did it out of love. Whatever she really and truly believes, she should learn to care enough about herself to hold and express those convictions without shame. I really hope, for her sake, that someday she is able to do just that.

I don't know how soundly she sleeps at night. But she doesn't have to listen to me anymore.



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