A Letter From The Forgotten Man

The forgotten man is the everyday American who has been forced out of the political process so that progressives could satisfy their goals. It’s the person who has money taken out of his or her paycheck each month to go towards programs and policies that keep the Harry Reids, Nancy Pelosis, and John McCains of the world in office. It’s the millions of Americans who just want to be decent to one another, to use common sense, and stay out of the games being played in Washington. Glenn Beck received an e-mail from a forgotten man, here is that e-mail, taken from the Beck web-site. Thanks Mr. Beck

Glenn,

The Republicans caved as I expected, but that’s not news where I live. As the discussions were going on in Washington this week, I called my senator and I called my congressmen too. I left them a message with my phone number and my e-mail address. I asked them to stand tall, to get the spending in order, to make Obamacare equal for all Americans, not just special interests. The recording that I received said they would send me a response. I’ve called them before, got the same recording. I won’t hear from them. After all, I’m The Forgotten Man.

The media today is blaming the TEA Party for all the ills in Washington. I laugh when I hear that, Glenn. Just give me 10 minutes with each of those so-called journalists, just 10 minutes. I’d ask them, “What is the TEA Party? How did the TEA Party get started? What do people who support the TEA Party principles actually believe in?” I can guarantee you, Glenn, they don’t know the answers. But I would share it with them anyway. We believe in liberty. We believe in freedom. We believe in a much smaller representative government. We believe in the God-given right that has been given to each individual. And then I’d ask those journalists, “When you give your daughter her allowance on Saturday and she comes back to you the next Wednesday saying she spent it all, and more, what do you tell her?” If they reply, “Well, you’re going to have to wait until next Saturday and you’re going to have to work it out,” I’d tell those journalists, “Welcome to the TEA Party.” If I met somebody in Hollywood and I asked them, “Why do you use Toronto to depict New York City in their recent movie,” and they told me, “Well, it’s cheaper to do it there,” I’d say, “My gosh, you sound like not only a capitalist but a new member of the TEA Party.” I’d ask them if they believe that every man, woman, and child should be treated equally, regardless of their gender, race, or religion. They would all say, in their journalistic ivory towers, “Of course.” And I would say, “Welcome to the TEA Party.”

You see, where I live, Glenn, using common sense, sharing common values, and exhibiting common courtesy is not the exception. It’s the norm. But I’m The Forgotten Man. And speaking of parties, maybe it is time for a third one. But not for the so-called journalists I see on TV because they already have enough parties. That’s why I don’t think they ask any that you had probing questions. In April I was watching the White House Correspondents Dinner on C-Span. Before it got started, they showed the journalists arriving. I thought I was watching the Academy Awards. Designer dresses, tuxedos, limousines. As each one entered, the flash bulbs would go off. Then they would stop, smile, turn slightly to the right. More flash bulbs, slightly shifting to the left, more pictures. I thought to myself, they’re not journalists; they’re the Kardashians. And it’s the same thing when the Washington Post or the New York Times or Vanity Fair throws a party. They will sell their souls to be there. But they don’t really have any souls to sell because they’ve already sold them before. If you work in the media in Washington or in New York or in Hollywood, I guess you have a decision to make: You can ask the tough questions that Americans actually would support you on, actually expect you to ask, or you can ask the “I want an invitation to the next party” question.

Glenn, I’m through with all of them, but I want you to know I’m also through with complaining. Misery loves company, but I’m kicking misery to the curb. The next time I write to ya, I’m going to focus on what’s good, on what’s possible, what’s remarkable about America. I may be The Forgotten Man, but I haven’t forgotten about America. You say this all the time, “We’ll get through this.” We will. Just wait and see. Much the sun is always brightest right after the storm.

– The Forgotten Man

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One Comment

  1. Well put.

    but I don’t feel forgotten. I see the red dot laser on my chest. I think we are the Target!

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