Right Like Me

My editor called me in.

"Weber!" she said in her unspeakably sexy, Greek accented rasp. "Go undercover. Find out what makes them tick."

"Tic as in twitch or tick as in bug or tick as in tock or...?"

"Get out, moron!"

I love a strong woman. So here it was: I was to use the unnaturally plentiful gifts that made me arguably the greatest actor in modern times, gifts which propelled me past all others to the highest level of achievement in an often blood thirsty and heartless industry, to assume the guise of a Right Winger.

All my life I watched Right Wingers. I saw them in movies and in news segments on MSNBC, heard stories about them hating, lying, chewing, spitting. And now I would become one of them. I made a list of everything I would need to become an ill-informed, easily manipulated, raging right-wing sack of nut-meat:

• a rubber sledge hammer (for bashing myself in the temples to effect the signature glassy-eyes and hanging lower lip);
• an assortment of stick-on Hitler mustaches (to deface pictures of President Obama or to use as replacement beards for my Robert Bork action figure);
• penis reducer;
• a "God, guns and guts made America free" bib;
• a "Bible for Dummies" (big print);
• a Chia® Neil Cavuto;
• and a winking Sarah Palin endless video loop.

And all of these items were available at Walmart® so it was one-stop shopping. Easy!

I locked myself in the wine cellar of my Hollywood Jew-liberal home and began my transformation. I read everything by Jonah Goldberg and John Gibson I could get my hands on. I watched every movie Ronald Reagan made. I pleasured myself to Anita Bryant singing "This Is My Country", over and over and over.

It was painful, having to carry the burden of all that dogma on my narrow, liberal shoulders, along with convincing myself that I was surrounded by enemies, infidels, and jihadists. There were terrorists out there. I was suitably terrified. Just looking at an ordinary bath towel would make my knees buckle. Step one: complete.

Step two: I began to eat as much as possible. Steak, chicken, venison, pork, bacon, gristle, skin. If it mooed, clucked, yipped, bleated or screeched I fried it and ate it. While there must be some arcane explanation for the Right Wing diet (perhaps having to do with consuming the soul of one's enemy) all I knew was, after several hours, I had a cinder block-sized obstruction in my colon and no amount of sitting in front of a plasma screen TV watching QVC could dislodge it. My liberal digestive system, used to a gentler diet of quinoa, seitan, rice milk, seeds and Fiji® water was simply too pussified to handle such a corrosive onslaught.

Desperate, I took the classic Right Wing recourse to all manner of tribulation: I turned to prayer.

And I have to say, it worked. Nature, or in this case Jesus, abhors a vacuum. It took a while and there was much glossolalia but eventually I shrieked bloody "Hallelujia!" and found relief. Step two was downloaded.

Step three: I took one last look in the mirror. But it wasn't just a physical transformation I would need to pass myself off as a card-carrying, xenophobic loon. It would require a complete psychological transformation as well. I had to dispose of all tendencies I may have had towards sensitivity, mercy, sense, humility and Joni Mitchell and embrace the dull, dormant savage within.

I immediately stopped doing the Sunday New York Times crossword puzzle (in ink) and took up the challenge of the Word Search.

I eschewed any affiliation with gay people (no easy feat, as I have official gay icon status).

Next, I would have to adopt a wholly contradictory and delusional approach to authority: profess to love and follow the kind which would never punish me in real time should I violate any of its sacred precepts -- which I will. And then hate the kind which could take literal action against certain kinds of behavior which, unregulated, could cause things like economic collapses, skyrocketing insurance costs, a terminally polluted environment, shit like that.

And most importantly: I would have to know childhood disappointment and pain.

Now, I'm no shrink, but I would guess that most if not all children experience both disappointment and pain. In the case of the Right Wing crackpot however, it feels to me like the disappointment and pain felt in childhood must have been more profound than in, say, moderate conservative children. Or liberal long hair hippie tie-dye t-shirt wearing hog farm no plastic or war toys children. Whatever, the future Right Winger's childhood pain and disappointment was clearly not tended to in a healthy way by the people whose job it was to love them unconditionally. Like I said, I'm no shrink. But I was on Wings®.

Now that I was ready, I set out on my assignment: a health care town hall meeting. I'd sure been reading a lot about them and realized that what was once considered a civilized gathering of concerned and informed citizens was now a swirling hotbed of seething, mindless wrath. It would be like stepping into Danté's version of Milton Bradley's classic game Twister®.

(Factoid: Milton Bradley, while noted for having popularized the concept of the board game, also invented the paper cutter, which would decades later prove indispensable for, among other things, shearing said paper into tiny, little Hitler mustaches. Okay, go on.)

Getting into my flatbed (loaded with empty gallon bottles of Pepsi® and a rusted ferris wheel axle to lend further authenticity) I turned the stereo on to Sirius® Patriot and gunned the engine.

As I rode along I saw the majority of my Hollywood neighbors avoiding eye contact with me. I could feel their disdain like a trophy wife feels the pain of a needle delivering precious Botox® to pesky laugh-lines and crow's feet. Even though I knew I was only assuming an identity to curry favor with my successful and wildly stimulating editor, there was something oddly freeing about wearing the opposition's jockstrap.

I felt like a pirate, autonomous, born to rebel. "Don't tread on me!" I shouted at some gardeners, but their gas-powered leaf blowers were so loud they couldn't hear me. Like that would matter, as they probably couldn't speak a word of God's greatest language, English. And they were probably here illegally. Boy, I was really beginning to go full-on Actor's Studio, something I rarely do. Is James Lipton reading this? Is anyone? Mother?

I arrived at the town hall meeting, which was being held at a local junior high school auditorium. Attendance was high and sure enough there were my Right Wing peeps clustered outside the venue, holding hands and skimming stones.

I mean chanting slogans and bearing signs. (Shit. I keep slipping back and forth between my old liberal sensitivity and my newly acquired disdain for all things breathing that aren't white. No classic Elton John? If this is what it means to be a whacked-out, froth-flecked, tea-bagging birther, then my spineless pussy-faced, bleeding heart bleeds for them, the poor sods.)

I noticed that the person leading the meeting, a local politician clad in the classic "I'm just a reg'lar guy" shirt sleeves and loosened tie seemed a bit at sea.

Or rather caught in a rip tide. For the crowd had, as its collective genetic predisposition would insist, turned ugly. A woman in a wheelchair was trying to speak into a microphone and tell her story: she had been denied treatment for her malady (whatever the hell it was, the lazy loafer) and was living proof of the inadequacy and heartlessness of the current health care system, the one we were here to preserve, protect and defend, even if it would actually bankrupt and/or kill each and every one of us in the end.

Because I knew at that moment that being part of a group, no matter how destructive, is the best thing about being American. It's tribal. It's basic. The individual is the enemy. The group is the friend. Unless that group is comprised of individuals. Then that group is my group's enemy. And the friend of my enemy's group is my group's enemy as well.

How dare anyone have the temerity -- no, no. Too many syllables -- gumption to speak against our group? How dare this woman -- if she really is a woman, since she can't walk and probably can't have my babies either -- try to tell us that corporations are anything other than groups of more successful versions of ourselves and who are the embodiment of all which our founding fathers and Jesus Christ Almighty believed. I hate you, crippled lady! I hate you and I am going to shoot you with my automatic weapon I am allowed to bring to such gatherings!

And then I collapsed and had a major heart attack.

As I looked up at the crowd gathered around me I realized that instead of the expressions of concern I craved in my moment of need I instead saw crazed, eye-rolling anger. I was able to sense disgust at what they thought was "weakness". I heard them call me names like "pulmonary pinko" and "cardiac coward" and felt their tepid spit as it spritzed from their mouths onto my twitching form. And then everything went black. Like that bastard in our White House.

When I woke up I was in a modern medical facility replete with every piece of equipment I would need to make a full recovery. Yes, there was some grime here and there and those attending me were friendly but clearly working to capacity but I never felt as though I was in less than capable hands.

Of course I was in Canada, where my super hottie editor had medivacked me (courtesy of George Soros). True, it was an elitist thing for her to do and obviously there was a "thing" brewing between us that would have to be "dealt with at some later stage, but I think she was making a point and it is here that I will perform my "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington"-style award-securing monologue:

"What the hell has happened to us? How can we have allowed the baser parts of our national identity to trump our common sense? And how come, with all our fusty braggadocio about being the greatest, the biggest, the best, we are unable to provide for every citizen decent or affordable health care or credible, affordable education at all levels? Why do we allow a group of power mongering obstructionists -- Right Wingers -- to ride roughshod over the will of The People? Why is this country being hijacked by a fearful, craven, dumb mob? Why can't prosperity go hand in hand with a decent quality of life for all Americans? Why does profit depend on despair and division?"

"The will of The People has been effectively muzzled by non-stop distraction, keeping our common sense and humanity at a distance which permits the muzzlers to act in their own, selfish, profiteering interests. It is this country's imperative to pull itself out of its induced coma and do the right thing. America was born out of necessity, its people were keenly alert to the problems which prompted their desire to live a better, freer, more productive existence than the one from which they fled..."

The nurses looked at each other and politely clapped as I was eased back onto my bed. "You need to rest, sir. And to be less flowery when you speak" the nurse said, patting my moist forehead. She wasn't wrong, of course. She was just giving me free end-of-career counseling. "He's like a young Shatner..." one of them whispered as they walked out.

I am still feeling residual effects of my complete submersion into the heart of darkness that beats within the occluded chest of the Right Winger. But I know now what drives these misguided people to do the things they do. And I see that maybe all they really need...is Love®.

Thank you. And goodnight.

Comments

[DickTater]

Loved it Steven

You asked a time or two how our baser side wins out over reason, and how our national dialogue got hijacked. Two Words....C­orporate Media.

I want people to understand that we only have, in our recent and terribly paralyzed state....O­NE CHANCE to voice our opinion...­.every 4 years in this case....at the polls.

The ReichWing knows this. They have a say every day. They have Corporate Media to trumpet their views and stomp on OURS....24­/7.

With the election, Obama had 12 months + to get his message out for our Decision. Now it's over, we have no voice, no vote. This is now in the hands of our bought and paid for criminal Legislators and the Media. Look what they have done with it. Totally stomped/st­rangled/ma­ngled our WILL, our voice, our decision, our votes. Hell, you can't even get a liberal word in edgewise. No truth/reason/facts get on air....jus­t the poison/bil­e/anger/cr­azy/chaos. And then they trumpet and echo it again and again.

How did Obama lose his mojo? WE were taken out of the equation. When he could bring us together to decide on our future course, even against the wishes of the Corporate Media....w­e won. Now he only has the Congress and Corporate Media to play to....and that is going to be a loss every time. If Obama could not do it, no one can. We are well and truly screwed.

[tatertots]

Nailed it! As usual. You make me wish I had actually watched Wings back in the day. Or maybe I did, but for Timothy Daly - I loved Diner! But who knew what burning wit was behind your role as the on the prowl brother or cousin or whatever you were...

Keep up the great work!

[imfedup]

LOVE IT, but does Pepsi come in gallons?

[Ventoi]

Obama are you trapped in this guys 'collective' wit?

[TheRubberRoomHotel]

OH, Bravo brave soul!
And thank you for a great belly laugh today!

[birdsofafeather]

thank you...and lots of love.

[TheMisanthrope]

Steven, despite being "the greatest actor in modern times" I'm glad you find the time to write. Your posts are always entertaining. Although that might be just because I agree with your deviant liberal mindset. If I were "raging right-wing sack of nut-meat" I'm sure I would think you were a talentless hack - haha.

If you're not currently working on a book, you're depriving the world of a strong voice for rationality, compassion, and wit.

[Sardonica]

*applauding, throwing roses*

Brilliant work, Steven. High quality satire & great writing - the quips were fast and furious and several lines ("I hate you, crippled lady!") left me literally guffawing. Thanks for the pleasurable reading experience!

[Leatherhelmet]

Now I know where Mike Judge got the Gerald Goode character.

[DirectProf]

Brilliant ...

[llovejim]

Very good...eve­ry negative stereotype of the conservative and right wing core audience used in one article...­it's bad when the frothy mouthed right wingers stereotype the liberals, but when the liberals stereotype the conservatives, it is just brilliant satire and not mean-spiri­ted...kudo­s!!

[SoulKeeper]

Guess you didn't notice the negative stereotypes of liberals in this article, did ya?

Oh well, it was still one of the funniest things I've read in a long time!

Mr. Weber, you nailed it! Thanks

[viewfromuphere]

shoe....me­et other foot.

[CJ1]

Yer kinda the shining example of another stereotype--a conservative who did not read very closely, maybe too quickly, so as to get to the opportunity to whine again. McCain lost. Get over it already.

[antmousie]

Beautifully put.

[Dondowolfe]

Absolutely brilliant commentary Mr. Weber. Funny and educational. I loved it!

[JustifiablyParanoid]

That was brilliant.

[Sandra Wilson]

Although I have tried, I couldn't have said it better myself!