Once upon a time, I was 16 and totally excited to go to Berkeley because it was Berkeley, man. I wore a peace symbol on a chain around my neck everywhere I went, and I really, truly believed that people could solve any problem if they just talked about it long enough. I also thought that reason would win out when they did, and that reason demanded all sorts of bizarre and irrational things. I vehemently opposed the war in Iraq and spent a good portion of my first-period physics class arguing about it with one of my equally geeky friends.
I was 21 when I voted for Bill Clinton because he’d signed the bill expanding the student loan program, meaning I could scrape together enough money to go back to college. That was all I really cared about just then.
Then I was 25 and broke and tired of the grad school games, and I dropped out and joined the Navy. I’d given up being a Democrat because I couldn’t stand Clinton’s tendency to over-parse. I’d had enough of that sort of thing in the classroom and it infuriated me. I still thought that people could work things out without violence if they were only honest. I was tired of having a specific viewpoint rammed down my throat in my classes, so I joined up to have a specific viewpoint rammed down my throat while marching around in circles. I firmly believed that this was absolutely different because it was useful.
Then I was 26 and on hold indefinitely and busy mocking people who had voted for Al Gore. I took up going to church for the donuts and accidentally found Jesus. Somebody flew some planes into some buildings that September, and that made me very, very angry. Especially when they kicked me out of the service and I didn’t get an opportunity to help blow anything up. Because by then I was quite sure that sometimes the only way to deal with people is to blow them up.
In 2003, I started blogging. I started because I was angry at people who didn’t believe in the Iraq war, because I was sure that if we just showed the world how badass we were, it would back the hell off and leave us alone.
I must have had an inkling what was to come, because I remember clearly explaining to my mother why the Patriot Act was a bad idea.
I was also very certain that I knew what other people ought to be doing with their genitals. And their time. And their money. Because I was a conservative, dammit, and all about the personal responsibility. If you give people freedom, they’ll try to rob you, don’t you know?
Then life happened and I suddenly realized that I’d been wrong the whole time, both ways around. Gave up Jesus and voting. Felt better.
Expanding on this last point is pretty much why this site is here. Well, that and to get my wannabe anarchist rants off of our family blog and into a proper venue. I’m still hoping that some of our friends with different viewpoints will join in and make the site a bit more interesting than I alone can manage.
Either way, there you go. Reformed liberal, reformed conservative. Now proudly divorced from the political process. That’s me.