When conservative radio giant Rush Limbaugh died, it took only seconds for the vultures of the left to swoop down and begin picking at the public corpse.
Not all on the left did so. Some were gracious. But many were filled with glee hat their great enemy was gone. I won't begin to dignify them with a response.
I prefer to mourn Limbaugh as a great American, a great conservative, a tremendously talented broadcaster who loved his country and its traditions of individual liberty. And he unapologetically made millions of dollars doing it, which fed the rage of his detractors.
Limbaugh was a man with public warts and a bombastic, albeit entertaining manner who, on the radio, trolled his political and philosophical opponents before they controlled Twitter, inspiring their hatred.
But he embraced those warts. He went public with his addiction to painkillers, as portions of his audience were going through similar chaos. And he understood instinctively that big government and big liberal corporate media and their Big Tech masters are adversaries of individual liberty.
Not since the late President Ronald Reagan and William F. Buckley Jr. has there been such an important conservative voice in America. And unlike Buckley, and perhaps even more than Reagan, Limbaugh spoke directly to the forgotten Americans. They live in what's derisively called "flyover country," marginalized by the Washington political establishment, both Democrat and Republican.
He knew who he was. He had a sense of humor about himself. He knew what he believed. And he remembered who his audience was, as Reagan moved off the national stage, leaving a void.
In the late 1980s and early 1990s, you couldn't walk into a factory, garage, butcher or machine shop without hearing his show. Some even had Rush listening rooms.
