Conversations With The Flogging Whip

The Flogging Whip and I had a chat over the weekend. As expected, going up against a black leather-laced creature with knotted ends can be intimidating. Nevertheless, I squared my shoulders, downed a handful of anti-anxiety pills, and sat back for our little tēte à tēte. The purpose? The Whip wants to express itself in flaming words, terms, and not feel held back by fear of losing some of its lashes along the flay.

The problem the Whip and I have is that I try to be open to hearing other people's point of view. The other problem is that I just can't agree with what is tossed-out in the public forum these days with regard to women's rights, gay rights, basic human rights....

The Whip wants to send more than one or two lashes in the direction of those who want to push back time to the 1950's and below. The Blogger, "Me", wants to be honest, but has a few concerns in doing so without resorting to the Whip's juvenile tendencies which seem to be ruling the world these days with Twatter feuds and endless name-calling...

Here are the highlights from the encounter:
Whip: You're a wuss, ya' know that?
Me: Huh?
Whip: You won't let me draw blood on subjects you think will offend readers and some friends.
Me: Uh, yeah. Kinda.
Whip: Did you just hear yourself? What kind of answer is that?
Me: A safe one.
Whip: Therein lies your problem, bitch.
Me: Did you need to call me names?
Whip: That's what I'm supposed to do, you idiot!
Me: No, you're supposed to flog people and subjects with a sharp, stinging edge, not with childish name-calling.
Whip: Says who?
Me: Says me.
Whip: And you are….?
Me: The hand that moves your muscle.
Whip: You mean the hand that is a muzzle!
Me: Without me you'd be in trouble….
Whip: Without me you'd be a dullard…
Me: Without a doubt.


Oh my, how quickly I caved to the Flogging Whip! It was easy, as the Whip had been whirling around and ready to puff-out it's handle just like a big scary hissing snake in the midst of a poisonous serum backup.

But what it doesn't know is that I respect its propensity to rise up and flog away whenever a perceived injustice or slice of absurdity enters the general blathering discourse on politics, religion and celebrity/cultural news.

I admit that I do hold the Flogging Whip back from drawing a bloody trail through this blog. There is always a different point of view to consider. But, as the Whip suggests, it has a purpose or else this blog wouldn't exist. So, wuss-though-I-am, I'll let the Whip have its Flogs for the day with some help from today's news:

WTF is with all of those who believe this crap? Puleeze! (Many voters of a certain state believe Obama is a Muslim. Wonder where all of that brainwashing came from?)


Who gives a flying crack? Home For the Not-So-Now-A-Daze ....... Whoa! Gonna stop the Whip right here. There must be more enticing news afoot.....There are endless articles all over the Interwebs regarding Rick Santorum (Mr. Sanctimonious to you, BTW). Both the Whip and I have one thing in common on language at this stage: You, Mr. Dick, are the Living Dead.

Whip: That was soooo lame! I didn't sign off on that!
Me: *hangs head in shame*
Whip: I thought you were setting me free for a few sentences! Liar!
Me: What do you intend to say that hasn't been said already?
Whip: Santorum is living-up to his last name!
Me: That's not original. All fingers point to the dictionary.
Whip: Yeah, it's a dirty tale.
Me: Then tell it to those who don't know!
Whip: Thought you wanted a semi-clean site?
Me: Go Fug yourself. Here it is: Wash Yourself
Whip: Exactly!