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Over the past few weeks I have been debating people, on the issue of health care.  In preparation for the blog that I just did about health care, debating and finding out ideas and just going out there to gauge my arguments.  That blog was a compilation of most of them, I discarded some of them, and I added others.

But in the course of this debate something came up, in one of them in particular.  I was called a fascist.   I was debating a bunch of British people who have lived under a ‘similar’ system for a while now, and I was called a fascist.

And it did not phase me, not really.

OK, it did, I was greatly saddened by it…that someone who knew me, and who I considered a friend could call me that, just for being afraid about government encroachment…which is fascism.

But that is a debate for another day.

What this did was it caused me to come to the realization of just how much I have grown in the last couple of years.  During the election cycle had someone called me that I would have gone mental, and in fact I have in the past gone mental, posting whole pages of words condemning the person and attributing some irrational generalizations to the person.

I do not mean to toot my own horn here, but it was just interesting to me, and noteworthy to see how far I had come.  That I was able to put aside my feelings of hurt and just continue with the debate even though someone called me a nasty name.

And, to add-on to that.  The feeling of hurt was more that the message that I was trying to convey was disgraced, and not me.  I was sad for the message, and not that it was an insult against me.  That the message was the one was being targeted, and not it was getting through, that what I believed was a message for freedom, increased rights, and greater democracy, was instead called something complete opposite of what it should have been.  That it was misrepresented.

That is what was going on in that debate.


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