Grumpy Bear, The Credible Hulk

Grumpy Bear mode

When I get fired up about something, my passion is often mistaken for anger. Oh, I do get angry sometimes, and that’s when I transform from a relatively mild-mannered Southern gentleman into what liberals perceive to be a raving lunatic, or from my own perspective, this mythical creature known The Credible Hulk. The image below is actually the background on my Facebook page.

It’s true: liberals don’t like it when I’m angry, because I am always ready, willing, and able to support my arguments with a barrage of common sense, logic, facts, and solid documentation. I’m the opposite of lazy when it comes to being able to source a justification for anything I might say or write; I’m a little neurotic (maybe O.C.D.) about being able to provide a reason for the things I say and write. You can safely assume that if I make a strong, declarative statement about some current controversy, I’ll have an extra tab open in my browser window with my supporting evidence waiting to be offered to the first critic. That’s how I lose friends (and sometimes even family) on Facebook, because I’m not willing to compromise with evil. It’s not in my DNA.

Evil must be defeated. It cannot be mollified, and concessions only give it strength. You’ve got to go full Conan on evil: you must crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and to hear the lamentation of their women.

And as far as losing virtual friends on Facebook is concerned, at least there is a bright side.

Once upon a time I was a Boy Scout, and I’ve never forgotten the organization’s motto was “Be Prepared.” (I’m a great source for useless trivia.)

In this new era of co-ed “Scouts”, now being prepared might include packing condoms for camping trips. But I digress…

That last snarky phrase, the quip about the condoms, is why my wife’s pet nickname for me when I get into my other persona is “Grumpy Bear.”

I’ve grown quite fond of that moniker. And when I decided to write this piece, I did a quick research with a search engine and discovered that there is actually something called a Grumpy Bear, an individual member of yet other conglomeration of cartoon characters I’d never heard of before, otherwise friendly little critters known as the Care Bears.

Perfect! I care about my freedom, and my home, the U.S.A. Passionately. And I care about the truth. But I also care about copyright infringement, so I’m not going to be using this “Grumpy Bear” as my permanent sigil. I’ll have to commission some artwork.

Needless to say, Grumpy Bear has been a frequent visitor in my house this past week, as I’ve watched the travesty of justice known as the Kavanaugh confirmation hearings. I’ve watched our nation get more divided, and I’ve had endless conversations with liberals who seem to be allergic to logic, reason, and evidence.  The more emotional they become, the more irrational their demands. A pernicious evil is struggling for the soul of America, and currently winning the battle by convincing our liberal friends and neighbors that our souls don’t even exist. We are actually living in the dystopian society that George Orwell described so brilliantly in his classic novel 1984. He was only 34 years late.  

Grumpy Bear has been very busy, lambasting the lame stream media, excoriating the execrable (but now only reprehensible) Bob Menendez for his evil hypocritical ways, and even proposing what I thought was a reasonable solution that might even appeal to unreasonable people. This is when I wasn’t begging for money, warning people about internet scams, or defending a fellow Christian from a dishonest book review.

Turning into Grumpy Bear or The Credible Hulk is about as difficult for me as breathing. I have a fairly strong compass that points North to truth, and that’s what I want. The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. If you read enough of my articles, you’ll probably conclude that if Quid est veritas? isn’t my favorite phrase to quote, it’s definitely in the top three.

HOWEVER…family, friends, and mostly importantly, the woman who has put up with my crap for the last thirty years, have all told me that “Grumpy Bear” hurts reader’s perceptions of Rocky Leonard’s novels, and I’m in the process of giving some thought to separating “Rocky” from Southern Prose entirely. One step at a time. First, though, I’m focused about getting paid.

So some necessary changes are coming to the website. Certain articles will still be free (Georgia Bulldogs football?) in order to attract new readers, but those who want to see Grumpy Bear will have to feed him something in order to be able to watch him perform.

This is my circus, and these are my monkeys. 

We must monetize Southern Prose because I can’t keep spending money out of pocket to give away free content. If you’re already a fan of my work, you shouldn’t mind kicking in a few bucks per month to keep things up and running and reward me for my labor. A few days ago, I put a small “Donate” button on the website’s home page. To date, nobody has donated a penny.

Seriously? Over 300 people shared one of the recent articles I wrote with their friends on Facebook, and it wasn’t even worth a dollar? A coke costs a dollar at Costco. People are constantly asking me for money, but they aren’t even offering to do anything to earn it. I work hard, and my mind works nonstop.

Sure, my feelings was hurt, but (perhaps) I just wasn’t cut out to be a Younger. Maybe I do need a “day job” instead of asking people who like to read what I write to chip in when I pass the hat. But I’m not giving up on earning my keep with my keyboard just yet. We’re going to be introducing a subscription plan for Southern Prose where certain content is free, but other content will only be available to premium subscribers. We haven’t sorted out the different tiers and rewards for those tiers yet, but there will definitely be an upper tier of subscriber who will only be allowed to read Grumpy Bear material, going forward. 

Note to reader: If you think you know the movie that “Younger” line was borrowed from, post a comment with your best guess. If your name isn’t “Mike Forster” and you know the answer, I’ll be seriously impressed, and I’ll let you know if you guessed right, and whether or not you won something. (Hint: you didn’t, except my admiration for your knowledge of useless trivia.)

 If you like what I write, show me the love! Use that little PayPal button below my signature and above the email subscription box and kick in a buck or two. Let me know you care about Grumpy Bear. 

It’s called “incentive”.

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