On his show Monday, Rush Limbaugh announced he had stage 4 lung cancer.
I started listening to Rush in 1990 during the Gulf War. While I've not been a regular listener for a number of years, I've always been a fan of his steadfast and resolute conservative convictions. In many respects, his is the last voice left of the true conservative.
No, he's no saint, and his bombast rubbed many the wrong way. That being said, when conversing with someone with whom he disagreed, he always did so respectfully, and with an eye toward conversation. No personal put-downs. Just conversation, albeit with a hope of perhaps changing a mind.
I heard his announcement, and he sounded weak. I saw his picture, and he had lost a ton of weight - weight which plagued him his whole life. I came away from those engagements concluding that he is indeed a very sick man. His odds are incredibly long, if not completely insurmountable.
In the wake of the announcement came the vultures. The comments at the Huffington Post (the only area I allowed myself to read) were stomach-turning. His impending death is being met with glee. Unmitigated, hate-filled glee.
I won't link to that garbage and I won't say any more about it, other than if your political side celebrates the impending death of someone on the other side for the sin of political disagreements, you and your ilk are beyond sick.
And, as it turns out, you're even worse than what you imagined Rush thought of you.
Rush had a saying, "Rush is right." Even in the announcement of his greatest fight, he's proving that phrase correct.
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