Didn’t conservatives use to be tough? or “Where have all the cowboys gone?”

Between the time when the country elected Reagan and the rise of the Party of Tea, there was an age undreamed of.  And unto this, the Conservative, bold and manly but destined to wear the thorned crown of martyrdom upon a troubled brow.  It is I, The filthy liberal scum, who alone can tell thee of his downfall.  Let me tell you of the days of high pitched whining!

It’s true!  Once, there were herds of Manly Conservatives thundering across the country.  The Manly Conservative was self-assured and tough.  They smoked cigarettes and drove pickup trucks like the mighty Marlboro Man.  The Manly Conservative was master of all he surveyed.  Women quivered and swooned at his approach and they knew exactly who was in charge.  He strode the land as a colossus, secure in the knowledge that he was the epitome of all that was good and strong in America.  John Wayne was his role model.  Ronald Reagan, his idol.  John Rambo, his non-gay man-crush.

But, alas, they are gone now.  No more shall the Manly Conservative stand before TV cameras and belligerently bellow “Bring it on!” while other Manly Conservatives fainted from testosterone overdose.  No more shall they casually make racist jokes in public knowing that it was socially acceptable and even if it wasn’t, they did it anyway.  Those days are tragically gone.

The Manly Conservative, you see, evolved.  Or rather, he DEvolved.  The election of a black president combined with the almost total Democratic control of both Houses of Congress led to a freakish transformation.  The Manly Conservative vanished, almost overnight, as the dinosaurs once did.  In its place we find now the Whining Insecure Martyred Pussy or WIMP for short.

The WIMP  was once thought to be the ancestor of the Progressive Liberal but recent studies have found that while they exhibit some of the characteristics of a WIMP, the Progressive Liberal is actually more closely related to the WYRM (We Yes Republican Motions).  The WYRM is a spineless Earth loving peacenik that avoids confrontation whenever possible.  Both the WYRM and the WIMP share the self defense mechanism of complaining a lot but that is where the similarities end.  The WYRM is in the process of developing a spine and becoming a true fire breathing DRAGUN (Darn Right Americans Gave Up Nonsense) while the WIMP has lost its backbone and has taken to wallowing in its own filth.

The WIMP specializes in angry incoherence to scare aware predators.  When confronted by its natural enemy, the mainstream media, the WIMP begins a ritualistic bellowing and stomping in order to confuse and confound.  Direct questions are answered with bizarre, rambling statements containing little to no substance.  Occasionally, the WIMP will have the media banned or detained so as not to be unduly burdened with having to justify any previous statements.  Of course, these are all used as a last resort.  The preferred method of avoiding scrutiny is for the WIMP to remain in its lair at Fox, nestled snuggly among fellow WIMPs.

The WIMP is a truly sad creature, having only recently lost its ability to stand upright, it still remembers its glory days.  It looks to them often as a balm for the anger it feels at having been bumped off of its comfortable perch at the top the political food chain.  To this end, the WIMP has grown a pair of rose tinted lens over its eyes.  This would not be such a problem but for the fact that the eyes have also migrated to the back of the WIMP’s head.  This bizarre adaption has resulted in a peculiar condition where the WIMP moves forever backwards while mistaking this motion as progress of some sort.

Another fascinating adaptation of the WIMP is its ability to play the victim card at almost supernatural speeds.  This skill, dubbed “the Palin” is frequently used to deflect criticism away from the WIMP.  The ironic nature of this defense is easily recognized but the WIMP employs it with such skill that it is not easy to overcome.  Where once the WIMP was the predator, boldly feasting upon the easily cowed masses, it is has been reduced to a sniveling pseudo-victim eagerly lapping up the scraps left to it by its corporate masters.  Such a majestic specimen laid so low is sometime difficult to watch.

But there is still useful lessons to learn from the WIMP.  Its migration pattern is very interesting.  When confronted with adverse sociopolitical conditions, the WIMP tries to run away from the source of its irritation.  The normal pattern is one of WIMP Flight, where the WIMP moves towards a greater concentration of its own kind and away from those it considers “different” or “dangerous.”  But the rarest of WIMP migrations is the dreaded secession.  There is only one recorded instance of secession in the lineage of the WIMP.  This was during the time of its ancient ancestor, the Racist Pig.

The Racist Pig was a proud and powerful creature that fell victim to the twin scourges of morality and history.  The Racist Pig was on the wrong side of both and was rendered mostly extinct.  Those that survived eventually became the Manly Conservative.  Some traits were retained, like a deep seated hatred for black culture and a desire for the “good old days” that they have been trying to emulate ever since with little luck.

Today’s WIMP makes simpering sounds similar to the secession song of the Racist Pig but is lacking the nerve to follow through with a second mass migration.  Partly because it’s afraid but mostly because it knows it is incapable of taking care of itself despite insisting that it is a strong, independent, self-made WIMP.  Sometimes the WIMP uses this delusional declaration to incite riotous laughter in others as a means of slipping away unnoticed.  The Great Attempted Secession of the Racist Pig is the stuff of legends among WIMPs who long to be free of the ridicule of those it considers inferior.  Unlike its ignoble ancestor, however, the WIMP never intends on following through with its childlike threats of running away from home.

Overall, the WIMP is but a shadow of its former self.  It can still rear up and roar but the roar becomes less convincing every day.  WYRMs and DRAGUNs, inured to the fake umbrage of the WIMP, have begun to encroach deeply into its territory.  Unused to actually having to face a fair fight, the WIMP attempts to subvert the natural order by buying elections but this is only a stopgap measure.  In the fullness of time, the WIMP, unable to adapt to its new environment, will become an endangered species.  Children will read about it in history books and marvel how such a creature could have once been so dominant in a country built on diversity and equality.

But fear not!  There will always be a safe haven for the remaining WIMPs to propagate their peculiar brand of empty anger.  The DRAGUNs will fence off a preserve where the WIMP can live unmolested by the modern world and its frightening progress.  The living conditions will be the worst in the country but the WIMP will not notice.  Amid the future wastelands of Texas, the WIMP will truly be at home.

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