I read this a couple of days ago at Ace’s, and meant to say something about it, but forgot to mention it. Then I saw that Jim Geraghty quoted it in today’s Morning Jolt newsletter, and I thought I’d pass it along. It’s a little long, but I think useful:
At the heart of every conservative’s worldview is this simple truth. You—not your lucky rabbit’s foot, not some cosmic lottery, not your circumstances, your parents, your race, gender, or disability—YOU determine the life you live.
Belief in self-determination is at the very foundation of our ideology. It is why conservatives champion liberty and personal responsibility while rejecting collective guilt, class envy, tribalism and victim-hood. It’s what defines us. It’s what we believe and it’s who we are.
And so I say to you, so what if we lost this election? [Bleep] your poor-me-ism and [Bleep] mine too.
Winners win. Losers lose.
And you’re a winner.
Good. Now here’s the action plan. Feel free to add to it in the comments:
Be better than them
Remember this saying? Living well is the best revenge.
Well, it’s got nothing to do with accumulating a bunch of wealth so you can show it off to your enemies and make them jealous.
Quite the opposite. Living well means living a happy, contented life filled with love, laughter and meaning.
Look at these clowns on the other side. They won. Conservatives are demoralized. The GOP is splintering. Socialized health care is now the law of the land.
They’re getting almost everything they’ve ever wanted, yet they’re as angry, dishonest and hateful as ever.
Did they really beat us?
Not where it counts.
They’re empty inside.
They’re not winners. Winners learn, love and grow. Winners have strong work ethics, faithful marriages and unshakeable values. Winners don’t blame others for their failings, they work to overcome them. Winners believe in something greater than a man in the Oval Office.
Remember this: No matter what happens in D.C., no one can make you stop loving your kids. No one can prevent you from being a great mom, a wonderful spouse, or a loyal friend. These things are yours. You own your life. They do not. No matter what lies they tell about you, they can’t diminish who you are.
[…] Love more openly and honestly than you ever have before. Forge deeper and more meaningful relationships with your friends and family. Smile, laugh, and enjoy the day.
Life is precious. You’re not here for long. Every moment you waste reacting impotently to [the President] and his enablers simply magnifies his destructiveness.
Reclaim your God-given influence and reach. Politics is not the only agent of change in this world.
Again, I return to the satisfaction of knowing that conservatism is only a partial philosophy of life, and I’m reminded of a poem. Richard Lovelace was one of the Cavalier poets of the 17th C., and when he was confronted with what he saw as the impending dreariness of Puritan rule during the protectorate, he wrote “The Grasshopper.”
To My Noble Friend, Mr. Charles Cotton
O thou that swing’st upon the waving hair
Of some well-fillèd oaten beard,
Drunk every night with a delicious tear
Dropped thee from heaven, where now th’ art reared;
The joys of earth and air are thine entire,
That with thy feet and wings dost hop and fly;
And, when thy poppy works, thou dost retire
To thy carved acorn-bed to lie.
Up with the day, the sun thou welcom’st then,
Sport’st in the gilt-plats of his beams,
And all these merry days mak’st merry men,
Thyself, and melancholy streams.
But ah, the sickle! Golden ears are cropped;
Ceres and Bacchus bid good night;
Sharp, frosty fingers all your flowers have topped,
And what scythes spared, winds shave off quite.
Poor verdant fool, and now green ice! thy joys,
Large and as lasting as thy perch of grass,
Bid us lay in ’gainst winter rain, and poise
Their floods with an o’erflowing glass.
Thou best of men and friends! we will create
A genuine summer in each other’s breast,
And spite of this cold time and frozen fate,
Thaw us a warm seat to our rest.
Our sacred hearths shall burn eternally,
As vestal flames; the North Wind, he
Shall strike his frost-stretched wings, dissolve, and fly
This Etna in epitome.
Dropping December shall come weeping in,
Bewail th’usurping of his reign:
But when in showers of old Greek we begin,
Shall cry he hath his crown again!
Night, as clear Hesper, shall our tapers whip
From the light casements where we play,
And the dark hag from her black mantle strip,
And stick there everlasting day.
Thus richer than untempted kings are we,
That, asking nothing, nothing need:
Though lords of all what seas embrace, yet he
That wants himself is poor indeed.
Have a great weekend!