I Have Raided My Last Intellectually Weak Fortress

The problem with being as intelligent as myself is the dreadful lack of competition. Every great and dominant leader throughout history has had an adversary worth his consideration and respect. Jesus had Satan. Alexander had Darius. Conan O'Brian had Jay Leno. Uncle Tom has no one.

I no longer get a high off verbally destroying an over-zealous ladder climber, psychological warfare against low-aspiring, half-wit politicians has lost its romance, and I just can not find the fire to pillage the empty mental castles of my so called enemies. To paraphrase the 1965 hit by the Righteous Brothers, "Baby, you've lost that fightin' feeling."

After Darius died, Alexander the Great had nothing to live for. He became a drunkard and an idolatrous man. He no longer had that great and constant opposition to keep him sharp. I'm beginning to understand that. I have become intellectually drunk by the foul liquor of stupidity that ever surrounds me. I will be forever hungover with the whiskey of small minds and reactionary thinkers. No man can hold a candle to my flame of superiority. I need not even mention how futile it would be for a woman to attempt to do so.

I have hopes that sometime, somewhere, the good Lord will raise up an opponent actually worth my time and efforts. If that never happens I will put my faith in science and patiently await the day in which I will have the ability to clone myself... Naturally I would have to destroy myself because there is only room for one Tom Schultz and even with one it gets a little crowded at times.

Your Able Servant,

Uncle Tom

I Refuse to Shackle Myself with the Chains of Common Courtesy

Alleged good manners and common courtesy are nothing more than another attempt by society to bind me down to yet another ridiculous notion. These two social handcuffs are just an insurance policy, slapped on by the self-righteous to make themselves feel superior. It is if for this very reason that I've cast common courtesy off forever.

The amount of freedom I feel since breaking the bonds of common courtesy is indescribable. I feel like a POW who has just escaped a death camp and there's no going back now. I wouldn't trade this new found liberty for anything. Actually just the other day I dropped a string of heart-felt profanities in public as well as in the presence of a lady. It was amazing. No regret. No embarrassment. I'm telling you folks, this is what the Founding Fathers had in mind when they talked about life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

The masses fear a man who is not carrying the yoke of common courtesy. They don't want to cross a man who decency and kindness can't hold back from releasing a swarm of insults, petty arguments, and angry tirades.

Now you wonder if a man who is so free can still have friends who are still in bondage. The answer is yes and I'll tell you why. Those still chained to common courtesy are cowards and shake with fear in the presence of societies task-masters. The only freedom they taste is through a warrior like me, and that's what keeps them coming back, even when they've been blasted with my special kind of liberty.

And also, common courtesy is just so common and who wants to be that?

Your Faithful Servant,

Uncle Tom

The Opening Act

It is with great delight and moderate surprise that I open up this blog. As many of you know, I have been anxiously engaged in raining down verbal hellfire upon my adversaries. I now bring the war to a new battlefield.

I take great pride in my work because I feel that I can give back to this fine country.
The thing I realized about blogging is you can never walk away. Its one of those jobs that society doesn't want to recognize. Its all dirt and blood.
Many people have said that blogging is only for the living-dead who roam the vast digital streets of the web late at night. And just because its a God-forsaken blackhole of information doesn't mean that the blogs should be shoddy. Sometimes people forget that. I've seen a lot in this disreputable hobby. Its stuff most people suspect but few ever see. I am one of those few but not the proud.
Friend you wouldn't last three furlongs in my world. It pulls you in though. You can't ever walk away from blogging. People think they know what that means but they don't. Not really.
The one thing that brings a mental tear to the eye of my mind is that I know with a surety that I'm not a lifer. This bittersweet symphony has an end for this blogger.
But I know that it'll never leave me. You may take the boy out of the blog but you can't take the blog out of the boy.
I remain your faithful universal critic.
Uncle Tom