Some negative connotations come along with the word “Republican.” That’s the party who loves big business, who doesn’t care about the common man, who bathes in oil and loves war, who drinks it up when the impoverished suffer, and who is only out to pad its members’ already hefty pockets. I think it’s sad that there’s so much bad blood between our two major parties that people have actually been convinced that a whole half of our country is this evil and inhuman. I feel sorry for any liberal who is truly that pessimistic. If you know me, I hope you have come to learn that I am a compassionate, kindhearted, sensitive person. You also know that I am a Republican. I ought to be living proof that Republicans are not bad people. I do not want to kill minorities or squash the poor, and neither does my party.

But it’s easier to argue with wrong assumptions than it is to replace them with the truth. Allow me to try:

I am a Republican because I believe in the American people. We are the most capable, determined, tenacious of all the earth’s populations, and there is nothing we cannot achieve. Every single one of us can succeed if we try. Even when we’re pressing through unbelievable adversity, trying to squirm our ways out of dire circumstances, or overcoming an endless series of obstacles, we do it. America has always been able to recover from tragedy. Our unity in the days after September 11^th, 2001, demonstrates our patriotism and character. The way we have defended our allies throughout strenuous world wars proves our courage and strength. Our ability to bounce back from such domestic hardships as the Great Depression and Hurricane Katrina are testaments to our resolve.

I am a Republican because I know all of this. I have seen the American people get up from the hardest falls, and I know that we are able to make each of our own ways in the world. We do not need free handouts or government coddling or legislative handholding. Republicans expect the best from our people and do not preemptively offer assistance before it’s asked for. I know that each one of us can succeed independently, but if effort is no longer a requirement, we won’t try. Nothing is worth having if it’s easy to get. America is good at working for what it gets, truly earning it, and I think every one of us deserves the chance to rise to that challenge. That is a core Republican value.

I am a Republican because I do not think anyone should be punished for success. When a person has aimed for greatness and hit the target dead center, that’s a time for celebration, not a slap on the wrist. It is not right to get angry at someone because he or she was able to do what someone else would or could not. Competition is part of human nature, and when we stifle the competitive spirit for the sake of sameness, we are abandoning what has made mankind successful. The rich are not evil. They are not crooks or thieves or murderers any more than any other sect of our society, and their vilification comes of nothing but jealousy. The rich have worked hard and made good decisions to earn their pennies, and nothing is stopping a member of the lower class from doing the same. But when, instead of encouraging entrepreneurship or dedication or diligence, we offer to redistribute a rich man’s money into a poor man’s pocket, we have become accessories to criminal action. We have allowed the government to steal from its people and punish the innocent. To each his own, and only that. Another Republican value.

I am a Republican because I believe in freedom. I think that each one of us should be granted the right to make all of our own decisions so long as our choices do not infringe upon others. For instance, you have the right to own a gun so long as you don’t use it to kill another man. Over the past two centuries since our founding fathers established American government, it has grown to sizes that were never meant to be. We, the electing public, should control the government. They now control us. That is not democracy. When your government even has the option to propose a 700 billion dollar corporate bailout, your government is too big. The government is now trying to tell us what we can say and hear via the Fairness Doctrine, limiting what healthcare options we’re allowed to get via the universal system, and controlling exactly where our hard-earned money goes and how much of it we can bring home. We are losing our freedoms, and it’s as though people have stopped caring. It’s as though we’ve forgotten what true freedom feels like and why it’s so great. Elephants never forget. So freedom has remained a Republican value.

I am a Republican because I am an American, through and through. Awaiting election results a few days ago, people on both sides were swearing to move to Canada if things didn’t go a certain way. I couldn’t even fathom. I could never move to Canada because I could never leave America. I know that we are the greatest nation on earth and it is vital, not only for ourselves, but for everyone in the world who depends on our prosperity for their own, that we remain strong and free. We were founded by rebels who revolted against oppression, and I fear that we are becoming the kind of country we first left. But because I am an American, because I am a Republican, I will fight against this again. If we start to slip back into limited speech, religious persecution, socialism or monarchy or tyranny, I will plant my feet in American soil, remembering the solid grounds on which we built this country, and what we once believed in.

I am a Republican because I want to be, and true Republicans will always stand for choice. Every American can make his or her political distinction out of pure, free, unadulterated choice, and this is the one I’ve made. Maybe someday I’ll take a different path, but I wouldn’t count on it; I am a Republican because I was born that way, in my very heart and soul. And no one can tell me that that’s not who I am.

I’ve been trying to find the right message for my first post-election essay. Looking for the perfect words, the most moving theme, what people need to hear. I’ve been riding on a seismograph of emotion, up from crying on the phone with my mom to angry debating with a stranger in the dorm lounge, down to denial and shock, and finally finding a positive medium where I can find contentedness in my faith in America’s resilience. My father encouraged me with a reminder of my own strength and that of my political brethren. We have been hurt, there’s no doubt, but we’re not dead.

I know that my party is not done. While we’re going to have it rough for a few years, fighting to balance seemingly unchecked liberal control in all three branches of the government, we can do it. We should’ve known all along that we’d never go down without a fight; this election was just one round in a series of many matches to come. Let’s call it a warm-up. We are going to regroup after this loss, pick up our things, center ourselves, and move on. We will use this defeat as a wakeup call, alerting our members with a call of duty. We have a job to do now, and it’s time to get to work.

All we need is a strong leader to emerge. That has been our downfall over the past few years, no impressive orator, no head honcho, no Reagans or Buckleys or Lincolns. I don’t know who it will be or where the person will come from, but I’ll be looking. Maybe Palin, maybe someone we haven’t heard from yet, maybe someone we won’t expect. No matter who it is, the bottom line is that this person needs to make him or herself known soon. In the meantime, the rest of us need to man up, get together in our towns, and prepare our revolution.

If you’re a conservative reading this, you know exactly what I’m talking about and you’re with me. If you’re a liberal reading this, you think I’m crazy. But you’re not my audience right now, so that’s ok. This is a message to Sean Hannity’s “Conservative Underground.” We’re in it together, and we’re going to win. It has started already. Walking to my first class this morning, I had an unspoken bond with everyone I passed wearing black. We’d nod a somber nod to one another, and no one else seemed to see it. If secrecy and stealth missions are the future of the Republican Party, so be it. We’re good at stuff like that.

As scared as I am for the future of our country and of our party, I am hopeful, because I know how strong we are. We have stood against evil before and won, and those are the battles that trained us. Our courage has been fortified in the fires of war, our faith is founded in God’s will, and our characters have been tested, more tryingly in recent months than perhaps ever before, and have passed with flying colors. Our patriotism is not this easily snuffed, and we know that America is the greatest nation on earth, one well worth the battle ahead of us. We have fought for Her glory before. We will do it again, starting today.

Do not be discouraged. Instead, take this as a warning of things to come if we continue to do nothing. If we all still want prosperity and peace and reform, failure is not an option at this point. Dress your wounds and come with me.

While we’ve still got the right to bear them, I’m bellowing a call to arms. Republicans of America: It’s go time.

Usually when I write about my politics, it comes out a place of agitation or fire or frustration. Today, it’s because I’m scared. I’m starting to get genuinely terrified for the future of our country, and it’s making me sick to my stomach. I’ve got a lump in my throat like I swallowed a tennis ball, I’m shivering under my fleece hoodie, and my hands are almost too cold to type. Physiological fear over US politics. Maybe I’m just obsessing too much over this election, or maybe, just maybe, it really is this bad.

I think it’s really this bad.

I just looked up the current poll numbers from Gallup, and Obama is leading McCain overall by 50 to 42%, well outside the 4% margin of error. Right after McCain announced Palin as his running mate, I felt a surge of confidence that he had victory in the bag, but her freshness wore off far too quickly, and now, as the McCain ticket continues to run an unaggressive campaign, I’m starting to think it’s too late. We’re going to lose. And I feel utterly helpless.

I don’t know what else to do. I’ve been screaming at the top of my lungs for months, but the world has gone deaf, and I am going hoarse. Why doesn’t anyone get it? He’s bad. He’s dangerous. He’s going to be our demise.

It’s not enough that he refuses to salute our flag or wear its pin. It’s not enough that he is the least experienced presidential candidate ever put up for office. It’s not enough that, in a time when I thought we all agreed we needed to start working across the aisle, that he’s the most liberal member of Senate we’ve got. It’s not enough that his long-time mentor repeatedly expressed anti-American and racist, Black Supremacist views. It’s not enough that his very campaign began at a backyard barbeque at the home of a radical 1960s terrorist who still stands by his murderous actions. It’s not enough that he’s gotten generous campaign contributions from a prominent Chicago business criminal. It’s not enough that he vocally supports the banning and censorship of television advertisements and radio programs, solely on the grounds that he disagrees with them. It’s not enough that his economic plan closely resembles one that, less than thirty years ago, proved to be detrimental to America and its citizens. It’s not enough that he openly supports socialist ideals over democratic fundamentals, and it’s certainly not enough that he shares circumstances, slogans, and character traits with the same kinds of men who came to power in places like Germany, fascist Italy, and Cuba.

To those who support this man: what is enough? What else could I possibly tell you to open your eyes? Obama leads 2 to 1 among young voters, and I feel that as a young voter, I’m at liberty to say that this is because, as a whole, we’re naïve and impressionable. We’re jumping on his bandwagon because he’s got hype, he’s got excitement, and he’s got the media’s blessing. But if our generation is the one looking toward the future, trying to make sure things are still good for our children and grandchildren, claiming to be informed and intellectual, then this man is not the one to represent us.

I know I’m just one voice. And I know that I’ve been using my one voice this whole election season and changed a grand total of 5 minds. But I can’t stop trying. My fear won’t let me. So if you’re with me, pass it on. If the McCain campaign won’t get aggressive, we have to. There’s still a solid 28 days until the votes are counted, and until then, I will be writing, talking, and, most of all, praying for a shift in the wind.

Don’t let me do it by myself.

This title, of course, refers to my own work. I am a moron. I am closed-minded and arrogant. My ideas are the only ones that matter, and they often involve the encouragement of violence, are littered with baseless insults, and are communicated with ghastly diction and syntax. I can’t believe anyone in his or her right mind would consider for one moment that I have anything worthwhile to say, and I am further astounded that there is a single Republican left in the world because everything on the right of the political spectrum is obvious crap.

Not.

But someone in my dorm hall feels this way. He (I’m assuming a male did this based on a simple handwriting analysis) came by my door sometime between 10:30pm and 5:00am last night and wrote on my whiteboard, “Your misguided Republican mindless hate mongering is what is wrong with America. Meaning this,” which he followed up with an arrow pointing down to my Fresh Elephant advertisement. This guy is more than welcome to disagree with my conservative epithets. But the adjectives used to describe his disgust with me (none of which were separated
by their necessitated commas, by the way) are beyond inaccurate.

“MISGUIDED”
Wow, you’re a humble son of a gun, ain’t ya? To say that someone else is mentally blind and deranged solely on the grounds that their ideas differ from yours is incredibly elitist, and if we’re all so concerned about global warming, our first order of business should be to suffocate your monstrously huge head as I’m sure it produces an enormous amount of waste. You, sir, are arrogant, and I am sorry that you find yourself incapable of having the single iota of tolerance it takes to recognize that not everyone who disagrees with you is just plain unhinged. To sum up, I’m not MISguided. I’m just guided on a path that you haven’t yet explored. Join me anytime you want, and feel free to show me yours.

“REPUBLICAN”
Ok.

“MINDLESS”
Looking back at my posts in summation, I can give myself high marks for information and education. I use actual citations from accredited sources left and right, base most of my remarks off of legitimate newsletters I get and study on a daily basis, and I articulate my arguments beautifully, if I do say so myself. I have college professors, high school principals, English teachers, business executives, and former political officials reading what I write, and while some don’t agree with me, they all support my efforts and acknowledge that my logic and writing skills are superb. I am never one to get on my high horse. In fact, I don’t even have a high horse to mount. But when someone questions my intelligence, I will respond with full confidence that they are mistaken, because, if there is one thing I know infallibly about myself, it is that my intellect is strong. Do not discount my brainpower just because it produces different results than yours.

“HATE MONGERING”
I’m not 100% sure who exactly it is I’m being accused of hating, but no matter who this guy thinks it is, he’s wrong. I do not hate any single demographic, nor do I feel I convey hatred for any individual, idea, or political party. I state (with acumen!) that I think certain ideas or candidates are wrong, and I give fully substantiated reasons as to why, and I claim my own views with resilience. Hatred is never a factor. Granted, I often use a biting or sarcastic tone, either because I’m peeved when I write or I think it’ll make it more fun to read, but I try very hard to not alienate or insult anyone, except for maybe the candidates themselves (but if SNL does it, so can I). I can’t count how many times I have said something along the lines of, “it’s ok if you disagree with me” or “tell me I’m wrong,” but apparently this is not sufficient compensation for all the other times I go off on tyrannical monologues wherein I discuss the bloody holocaust of all things liberal, right? Your previous use of “misguided” and “mindless” tells me that you’re far more “hate mongering” than I am.

In fact, all of your words indicate to me that you never even read the stuff you’re criticizing. Maybe you saw the Republican elephant logo in the background and assumed my writing would be something disdainful, but I’m afraid, sir, that you’re sorely mistaken, and I’d appreciate it if you’d reread (or just read) my stuff. After that, I give you full amnesty in your judgment, so long as you don’t succumb to further hate-mongering.

Aside from your adjectives, I take umbrage with your haughty generalization that I am “what is wrong with America.” Firstly, I can think of a whole lot of things that are wrong with America, and freedom of expression and competition of ideas never come up on my list. I could so easily take this one statement you’ve made on my little whiteboard and tell you what’s really wrong with America: we don’t listen to one another. We’re all so stuck in what we believe, even when we have no idea why we believe it, that all things unfamiliar are automatically filed as evil. Your snap judgment of me is what is wrong with America. Your superiority and hardheadedness are what is wrong with America. Your grammatical ineptitude is what is wrong with America!

I am so sick of all this! I see the looks people give me when they see me unlocking a door decorated with John McCain merchandise. Do you think I’m blind? Republicans have been blacklisted, for crying out loud, and we do not deserve the rap we’ve been getting. Right across the hall from me is girl with an Obama sticker on her door. Have I ever vandalized it or challenged her intelligence via her whiteboard? No, because I respect her freedom to say whatever she wants to say. And until people start granting Republicans this same respect, we will be fully founded in our assumption that we’re just bigger, more adult people than they are. Please, prove us wrong.

It’s easy to confuse liberalism with freedom because it initiates change, and the idea that nothing is concrete opens doors and therefore lifts any feelings of entrapment one might have. Conservatism works to keep things the same. While this may come across as stagnancy or limitation, if the thing being preserved is freedom, permanence is good.

Thus is the core difference between the two ideals: remember the anecdote, “don’t fix it if it ain’t broken”? Conservatives noted the lesson; liberals did not. Barack Obama is the poster child for this bought of liberal blindness. His campaign has been built on the basis of change, and because everyone seems to hate the way things are right now, change sounds like what we need. Change sounds like liberation. It sounds like sunshine. It makes us feel warm and fuzzy.

But I’d rather watch a Disney movie if that’s the outcome I’m shooting for, not elect a Socialist. On the surface, Obama’s big changes make us want to stutter along with David Bowie lyrics, but when we listen to the record backward we hear the hidden messages, much like Satan left behind rock and roll in the 70s. The specific changes Obama wants to make will take us further from real freedom than we’ve ever been. If we need change, this isn’t it.

At this point, the conservative candidate is also proposing change, but in a much more positive way. McCain wants to return the core philosophies of the United States, the roots out of which we grew into such a strong establishment.

No one is satisfied with the way things are now. Everyone wants a change. But if we chomp at the bit at the mention of the word before we look into things more meticulously, we’re going to trip mid-race and get shipped to the glue factory. All I’m asking is that we vote with care. Study, divulge, scrutinize both candidates from home life to social ideas to moral codes to their whereabouts at the time of Nicole Simpson’s murder. If none of us can be open-minded enough to consider all the points on the table, we’ve become what we despise about our opposition.

Please, at least smell the Kool-Aid first.

The Olympics. The world comes together every four years to pit our strongest, fastest, lithest, most tenacious athletes against each other to see which country’s youth is truly golden. Although we are in competition, no other event seems to breed as much international unity as these games. Individual patriotism, however deep-seated, does not overpower camaraderie between mismatched flags. For just a few days, we do not see other countries as debt collectors or political allies or roadblocks of our affairs. We are all just humans, rooting for our teams and experiencing every loss, victory, injury, and fairy tale in tandem.

But every night, after I turn off the instant replays and national anthems, I remember that everyone hates America. Isn’t that right? We’re the international bad guys, the global heavy-weights of idiocy and pollution and general pig-headedness? That’s the impression I get from many politicians and average members of the US populace alike. And whenever I speak of my own devotion to the stars and stripes, it automatically makes me a conductor of the machine that is American Evil.

Since when did it become an American trait to hate America? We’re all so ashamed of our nation, taught to ignore anything good we do. Our schools sucks, we love war, we’re nuclear energy hypocrites, we stick our big, democratic nose where it’s said to be unwelcome, and we’re a bunch of fatties. Focusing on the things previously listed, I’d hate us, too. But this is not the definition of America.

I’ve always considered myself a mild patriot. While I’d like to claim that I’m whole-heartedly proud of my country, almost to the point of nationalism, and that I wear my passion on my red, white, and blue sleeve, my patriotism has been blasted by the anti-American epithets and bitter cynicism that fly under the name of liberal media, and it has been a struggle to keep my grip on it. My mother, moved to tears by the words of a Frenchman, seemed to have forgotten, or tucked so deeply away, her love for her country that a foreigner had to remind her that we do good things. While this new French president’s speech was incredible, my mother’s reaction to it made me sad, because the duty of inspiring patriotism in US citizens’ hearts should not fall in the hands of anyone who does not reside within our own borders. Instead of beaming with pride, we tear down our nation from within. How might we stand when we don’t even support ourselves?

It should not come just once every four years that we feel something besides hatred for our great land. Call us what you will, but our country is a source of hope for the rest of the world, a powerhouse of opportunity, and a safeguard for anyone pledging allegiance. I don’t claim American flawlessness, but we are not the soul of blackness our own people make us out to be. And what saddens me most is that this reputation is one we have created ourselves. And only we can undo it.

I am not ashamed that I well up whenever our anthem plays for a gold medalist our flag has bred. I am not ashamed that we are more fortunate than anyone else in the world. I am not ashamed that we are strong. I am proud to be an American, and I am proud to have such pride.

Stop letting shame define Americanism. It is the antithesis of our foundation, and a return to our roots is apparently long overdue.