When I was around eleven or so, me and Dad were driving around (I can’t remember exactly where we were going, but who cares?), and a huge SUV passed us. Dad and I then had a short conversation that went something along like this:
Dad: Look at that big gas-guzzling monster. When you see something like that, you know it’s some selfish redneck Republican who doesn’t care how much pollution they’re pumping into the atmosphere.
Me: Dad, you shouldn’t say stuff like that. You don’t know who is driving that car. They could be perfectly nice people. You shouldn’t judge them just because they drive a certain type of car. Would you want someone to judge you based on the car you drive?
Dad: You’re right, honey. I’m sorry I said that.
Yep. That was me when I was eleven. I hated being judgmental, and I avoided labeling people.
Today when Dad and I go for drives and see a huge SUV, our conversations are somewhat different. For one thing, I start them.
Me: Look at that gas-guzzling monster. That fucking tea-bagging redneck needs to have his tires blown out. Hell, I’ll blow his tires out!
Big difference, huh?
When I was eleven, or in my early to mid-teens, I never would have dreamed of putting my political/social views in my stories because 1. I hated being judgmental, and 2. I was afraid of controversy. I was afraid of the totalitarian Republicans yelling at me and harassing me.
In other words, I was a pussy liberal.
But I ain’t a pussy liberal no longer.
As I neared my eighteenth birthday, I grew disgusted with myself and all the liberals who said they would never include their views on religion and politics in their writing or vlogs. Why, I asked myself? Because of fear? Of what? Stirring up a little controversy? Those racist, misogynistic, totalitarian bastards at FOKKK News?
I’ll say it outright: I write propaganda. I have an agenda to let the world know what I believe in regards to subjects like abortion, religion, and politics. But unlike FOKKK News, I actually care about facts. I don’t go out of my way to twist them in order to make myself look noble (undoubtedly, there are people who beg to differ, but I don’t give a shit). What’s more, I’m not out to dictate to people what they should or shouldn’t believe. That doesn’t interest me in the slightest.
I’m out to let my voice be heard, and I’m not afraid of its power.
I do realize that if enough people read Error Corrector, I’ll be getting yelled at and harassed by totalitarian Republicans. And it’s something that I greatly look forward to. Like Harlene, I do so love it when people amuse me with their stupidity. In doing so, they fulfill their sole reason for existence.