"One man, living again in his home state, surrounded by territory once rife with Conservatives,
and now hijacked by imported Liberals. This is the product of a self-imposed duty to continue to speak my Traditionalist Values
despite the Left's proliferation, procreation and perpetual regurgitation."

"One woman, living in a southern state, invaded by liberal policies, where strong Conservatives
were once revered. Proudly clinging to my guns. Proudly singing to my God."




social transition


Gossamer Socialist



Problem obvious

Liberty Caged, 11-4-08

Next Opportunity for Redemption of The Republic...

...6:00 AM Eastern, November 1st, 2016

Click for Western Maine Mountains Forecast

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Regarding The "Gut Feeling"...

I have them... I guess we all do. Most of the time, I check them out mentally to establish for myself their true source and examine their potential validity. I am frequently... "skeptical", in a word.

So I had this encounter several days back over at my friend Gayle's excellent blog. She posted a moving, bold video regarding the threat of an Obama Presidency. I was struck, both because of its' content and its' finished sheen. I like videography and have dabbled with it just enough to understand how much effort goes into trying to do a seamless, top shelf job (and recognizing that I am a hopeless amateur). This thing was decidedly good.

Gayle had e-mailed the source, telling her that she had posted the vid at her site and how much she appreciated it. The authoress stopped by Gayle's blog, read the preponderance of approving comments and duly commented herself, kindly thanking those for their remarks. Her words were articulate and humble. I felt an eyebrow spontaneously rise.

Gayle inquired as to why she did not blog. There was a replying expression of interest and curiosity. There went that eyebrow again.

I went to YouTube and searched out her account page. I saw several other videos she has made, a very short time account history with YouTube and a striking "bio" she had added there. Both eyebrows were now at attention.

Any of us who blog can likely recall the somewhat daunting emotion that accompanied our first efforts following a decision to try out the medium. It sure seemed to me to be probably a lot more complicated and involved than I was ready to attempt, but I had a political voice inside that was crying out.

Here in this lady, I seemed to see a very strong, capable voice. She was already quickly making quite a "disturbance" on YouTube with liberals howling and snapping out their drive-by personal attacks. Quite an effervescent splash going on over there!

Here's where my "gut feeling" took off.

I have a blog. I have great, thinking readers (although not many... but that is just fine... quality is not common nor found in great numbers). It would be pretty easy to offer her some "keys"... if she were interested. The video creations are already a huge task... Could I encourage her to use her writing voice also and perhaps make the entry to blogging a bit easier, in light of her already noble contributions?

Yes, I could. It might be quite a risky, bold, maybe even "dangerous" extension of my hand... but I could do it. I don't focus on me personally here much, but I have been known to do dangerous things before! It might be a disaster. It might be something I soon regret. It might be all sorts of things...

But I wouldn't know if I didn't go there and find out. And I had a little voice telling me to throw caution to the wind this time.

So, I have.

I have placed no restrictions on her, no limitations. I told her to write her mind and to write for her. I welcome her video compilations but still have emphasized my interest to read her words. I will carry on just as I always did... writing when I have something I want to say, no fluff, and silent when I have nothing to offer. If I disagree with her, I will say so respectfully and clearly, just like I have at any other blog. I could care less if my site "traffic" ebbs or flows. I only want the high caliber of commenters I have slowly accumulated over the past couple of years. Nothing has changed for me. It is still quality, not quantity.

Welcome to "Dena". Please... sing as you see fit.


Here follows Dena's reply and first entry:

"I am humbled by your warm welcome and I sincerely hope that I am able to do it justice.

In all likelihood, there will be moments when someone quietly wonders what I am doing here - and of this I have no doubt, because at this moment - the person quietly wondering, is me. As time passes, I can only hope that I can dissuade any doubts that you may have about me and by virtue of your acceptance - alleviate some of my own. I have often wondered where I could go to find an outlet which could properly electrify my jumbled thoughts ranging haphazardly from social injustice to mundane trivia.

Where does someone go to find that elusive connection or that feeling of Home?

Ideally, I would like to say that I simply clicked my heels together three times and landed on this moment. But, the truth is that I sincerely believe in the biblical verse which promises that for everything there is a Season - and a time for every purpose under Heaven. And in all fairness, I should give due credit for this cosmic revelation to my rather hazy recollection of the Byrds version of the classic song - Turn, Turn, Turn.

You will no doubt see that my depth of character often resembles a pendulum rapidly swinging - aligning almost evenly with daunting excerpts from literary giants such as Kafka on one side - to the nonsensical, oft overlooked insightfulness of Bugs Bunny on the other. What I learned from my cartoon world is remarkably similar to that which I have learned while aspiring to achieve acceptable levels of higher education.

"Anyone who cannot come to terms with his life while he is alive needs one hand to ward off a little his despair over his fate - but with his other hand he can note down what he sees among the ruins." - Franz Kafka.

"Don't take life too seriously. You'll never get out alive" - Bugs Bunny.

It is all clearly just a matter of semantics.

I realize that I am simply a willing fool who wandered into a literary forest without so much as a compass to guide me. Choosing to rely instead upon the sound of my own echo to forge a path. But in this strange new world of mind and matter, I am hoping that our minds will occasionally meet to form a new crossroad where our possible differences will matter less - or not at all.

There's no place like Home.

And so it begins..... "

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