I’m just going to come right out and say it. I love you Rush Limbaugh. After many years of despising your every word and cursing your every move, I’ve finally realized that my deep feelings for you aren’t hate, but love. I think my turn of heart came when I realized that your callousness and intolerance are simply the way you protect some raw nerve that sits deep in your soul. Somewhere along the lines you learned that the best way to protect yourself from the pain of being Rush Limbaugh was to turn your animosity outwards on the world around you. I see it now and I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner. The moral superiority that you claim God gave you made you feel a little less insignificant in the world. Finally, after all the years of feeling sad and empty inside, you were superior and the mere convenience of not being held into account by anyone other than your spiritual guide seems almost too perfect an excuse to give up. It should have been right there for me to see. The radical weight shifts, the prescription drugs, lashing out at people more successful than you; all meant to fill the void of being a sad person with a closet full of regret. Sure, you’re financially successful and you’ve definitely carved out a niche for yourself in a world that rewards a seething animosity for anything outside your narrow vision of good, but I’m wondering if you might be a happier person if you just had a little love in your life. So, while it was hard for me to come to terms with, I finally recognize that hatred for you will only make you stronger—almost like a violent storm that gains strength over warm waters. You and your cohorts will continue to prosper financially by feeding on your flock and burning the fields with your vitriol, but I truly hope, on your death bed, you’re able to look back on your life and feel as if you made this world a better place.
Love,
Charlie