Going to the Dogs

Paranoia strikes deep
Into your life it will creep
It starts when you're always afraid
Step out of line, the men come and take you away
(Buffalo Springfield, For What It's Worth, 1966)
(Trigger Warning - right-wing notions, polysyllabics, a picture of a kid giving the finger and an acronym that invokes the word fuck).

I saw a post on Facebook this morning. It was "political satirist/comedian" Stephen Colbert taking some slap at a misstatement made by a Fox News commentator (immediately corrected) concerning the attacks on Americans in Benghazi, Libya on 9/11/12. A friend had "liked" it, which brought the post to my attention.

I have very strong feelings about what happened those terrible hours that night so far from home. Maybe you do, too. I was about to voice them on a forum in which they would have been contrary to the post's point. Likely, it would have drawn the ire of someone who might take exception to my analysis.

And so I deleted it. 



I've been called all kinds of things at work. So have all of my co-workers. But, making a political comment on FB? Okay, my Back-East-Buddy and I can get into it. He's a great guy, very smart, and I respect him (even though he's almost always.... Sorry.). He's not going to crash my FB account, wreak havoc with my on-line stuff and create work for me simply because we disagree. 

The on-line world is populated with individuals of every political description who would maliciously damage or destroy my on-line identity because I'm being...what, insensitive?

So I just got myself another big mug of STFU and fed the dogs. At least they don't call me names when I'm on a rant - as long as I'm filling their breakfast bowls in the process.