Have you ever wondered what transpired in people's lives to bring them to believe what they do? What events can be credited for what side of the political fence they pitch their lawn chair? Probably not.
Who cares where some pinko-commie or neocon-fascist comes from? Strike them from the face of the earth and be done with it. Chopping the ends off the political bell-curve might relieve many a headache, but without the bookends of militant partisanship of those opposite us, we'd have very dull anecdotes from which to hang our arguments.
Many will read this column looking for a launch pad for righteous indignation, others for affirmation. I have said once before that I am a conservative -- the minority opinion in academia. Frankly, neither of these classes of readership serve the purpose I want to achieve with this column. I take no sadistic joy in watching my ideological opponents squirm. I'm not interested in blind affirmation of my beliefs. I want dialogue.
But before the volley of a meaningful discourse can be achieved, we need to know each other. (For those English majors keeping score at home, this is exactly what the New Critics did not want.) We need to know the whys and hows of our fellow conversationalists. So here is why I'm a conservative.
Have you ever been taken to court? Were you convicted of the crime? Have you ever been convicted of a crime that would otherwise have put you before a firing squad? I have.
Many years ago, I was standing watch around 3 a.m. aboard a U.S. Navy Frigate in the Sea of Japan. Never had a blackness befallen the sea as it did that night. No stars, no moon, no lights of other ships sailing on in diligent silence. Nothing.
I'll dispense with the poesy and say that a rumor regarding the captain's alleged abuse of power had taken hold of the sailors. For some adolescent reason, I took it personally. I was losing sleep, but it really had nothing to do with me. Nevertheless, the only recourse I saw fit was a dangerous act of civil disobedience. I sat down and went to sleep -- on watch.
Very soon, I found myself facing a court martial. I was tried, convicted, sentenced. I was not put to death. The captain only wanted to make an example of me. And for years, I held his name in contempt -- the contempt of an ignorant brat. Even thinking about speaking his name aloud brought rage to my throat.
It took even more years for me outgrow this puerility. And when I did, I came to understand that everything that has happened to me could be credited to an adopted sense of victimization -- or at least my response to them. The wrongs I had committed, the bitterness I had harbored, the injustice I had perceived in my life, everything, in fact, was my own fault.
I had manufactured and sold myself all the failings I "didn't" deserve.
It wasn't long until I discovered that personal responsibility was a cornerstone of American conservatism. The appeal was quick and satiating.
Those more ambitious of my ideological opponents have Hokie-stalked me and found that I live in Monteith. My involvement in the Corps serves as a living example that I have taken this vow of personal responsibility seriously and that I hold no grudge against anyone for the recklessness of my less-informed days.
It is also a celebration of the men and women who are on their way into harm's way. They work to ensure that I will continue to have the liberties that allow for personal responsibility. I cannot follow them to the front lines -- I was built for another service -- so it is imperative that they know that we know who they are and that we hold them in the highest esteem for what they are about to enter into.
There are times in our lives when we don't deserve the life we enjoy in this country. When I slept on watch, I did not deserve the freedoms I have always enjoyed. But one of the great blessings our nation offers is membership in its citizenry, even when we don't necessarily deserve it. This affords us the opportunity to learn why what we have is so rare and precious --they may be rights, but they're still exceptions.
Which brings up another cornerstone of conservatism: gratitude. It is the antidote to the majority of aggravations our charmed American lives present us. But I haven't the room herein for that conversation.
To cement this dialogue, I ask about who you are. What happened to you that brought you to believe what you do? I ask you to write a letter to the editor or leave a comment on this column's Web page. Not because I will benefit from it, but because you will. Putting your beliefs into words forces you to understand yourself.
If this sounds too touchy-feely, allow me to rephrase: Go do something with your life that doesn't begin with "advanced placement" before accusing me of party-line bigotry or thoughtless jingoism. Because the dander raised over my opinions have nothing to do with me. It is ire projected onto a complete stranger. It is the product of insecurity and misinformation, and impetuous adolescence. Write your beliefs out in plain English, study them, and test them by living them. It has benefited me to no end. I am prone to the same insecurity and misinformation as my ideological opponents, but I take consolation in my incessant need to know when I'm wrong.
In the meantime, let's discourse -- without the conversation-halting epithets. I'm not so self-important to think a discussion must involve me, but discussions fail without those who differ.