November 20, 2014
I learned a lot from being a Democrat when I was young. At the time, I didn’t realize I was learning anything. Sometimes quite a few years have to go by before you can sort out what you’ve seen and heard, and fit it into a bigger picture.
I took a lot of readers’ heat this month for urging folks to vote Republican because it was the only chance we had to stop Obama. I believe God means for us to work, as King Hezekiah and his people worked to secure Jerusalem’s water supply in the event of an Assyrian invasion. It wasn’t going to keep the Assyrians out of the land of Judah; but it was the only thing they could do, so they did it. Later, when the Assyrians invaded, God Himself destroyed them.
It was critically important, this year, to stop the Democrats. Whether the Republicans will actually do what the people have given them a mandate to do—well, that’s out of our hands. We the voters have done our part.
When I was still in college, and thinking that I knew a lot when I only knew a little, I joined and became active in my local Democratic Party. My town had long been a Republican town, but soon Watergate came along and changed all that—to this day, in fact.
I enjoyed being a Democrat. The top man in the party, back then, was our long-time Congressman, Ed Patten. Every two years, everybody, including Republicans, voted for him. Jolly old Ed was everybody’s uncle, always accessible to the people of his district, always ready (and usually able) to help with any kind of problem anyone might have with the government. He always showed up for picnics. Democrats had lots of picnics in those days, and they were good ones. Ah, the beer and the horseshoes!
Our party leaders were always around. Anyone, even a 22-year-old nobody, could talk to them. And they would listen.
Well, all that changed.
Our county convention in 1972 was the tipping point. I was there with all my friends. We’d rounded up a raft of votes to send one of our number to the national convention as a delegate, way more votes than were needed.
But this county convention was different. The chairman of the county’s McGovern campaign stood up and told us who to vote for as delegates. He had a whole slate of them. Well, who was he—and who were these people that we’d never heard of? But, wonder of wonders, each and every one of his candidates, and no one else, was elected. Mayors, councilmen, and state senators and assemblymen—including our guy, who had recently been elected to the town council—were all passed over. No one but the hand-picked McGovern candidates was selected. And our dear old Congressman retired, and soon died.
At the time, I didn’t understand what had happened. I couldn’t see the fix was in. I see it now. We got new leaders who had no time to chit-chat with the peasants. The fix has been in ever since.
Somehow a party full of normal, benign people got fundamentally transformed into an impersonal, imperious, impervious political machine. Somehow the ordinary people in it ceased to matter anymore, and the only ones whose voices could be heard were teachers’ unions and assorted left-wing activists who’d been nuisances in college and were now grown into powerful, influential nuisances. Our county chairman became a corrupt kingmaker who finally had to go to jail for all the fun he had, at our expense, while his little sock puppet, James “I am a gay American” McGreevy, partied in the governor’s mansion.
It was a deep and thorough transformation of the party, and it has taken me some forty years to appreciate its magnitude.
So it doesn’t surprise me now when my old party boos God at its national convention, installs a completely unqualified Marxist community organizer (whatever that is!) as president, aggressively promotes sodomy, and displays an insatiable lust for power as an end in itself. It has lost all vestige of what we used to take for granted as morality, and despises the American people whose votes and tax dollars keep it alive and perpetually hungry for more.
It is this party that must be put out of business, once and for all.
And then we’ll see about the Republicans.
� 2014 Lee Duigon - All Rights Reserved
Lee Duigon, a contributing editor with the Chalcedon Foundation, is a former newspaper reporter and editor, small businessman, teacher, and horror novelist. He has been married to his wife, Patricia, for 34 years. See his new fantasy/adventure novels, Bell Mountain and The Cellar Beneath the Cellar, available on www.amazon.com
E-Mail: [email protected]