Posted on January 10, 2019
by Steve Janowick
If I have to spend time surfing in the cesspool of brain-cell rot that is YouTube, I want to pass it watching classic videos of my rock and roll heroes.
Nothing wrong with spending an hour or two on a lazy Sunday watching the Motor City Madman circa 1977 melt faces with his cranked up 1962 Byrdland Gibson screaming from a Marshall stack.
I can vividly remember hearing for the first time, as a small kid, the live version of Great White Buffalo. Besides the thunderous, galloping licks sounding like a charging herd out on the open plain-and the sheer melodic catchiness of the damn thing, I was mostly intrigued and captivated by the story the lyrics told. My imagination was revved up. As I sat cross-legged in front of my record player, I knew for sure that this was a guy who revered the wild. This was a guy who was pro-animal and pro-nature. He was for the underdog too-for the indigenous man; be damned the invading white dog who only “cared about his billfold.”
This Ted Nugent cat was pretty alright.
Sure, he sang about getting laid a lot in his other records. He was also supremely confident and a bit of a chauvinist at times. But who didn’t and who wasn’t in the 1977 rock scene? Hell, he was drink and drug free through his entire span of relevance-and that’s certainly saying something for that era. Luckily, I was able to keep all of it in context and wasn’t ashamed to call myself a huge fan of the Nuge in my youth. He was the perfect outlet for me, and every other hormone-raging, testosterone-fueled teenager looking for a release. That’s why he was one of the most popular, and top selling, artists of the late 70’s.
Looking for a sweet ballad? Forget it. He was unapologetic, balls to the wall rock and roll. And he pulled no punches when it came to expressing his political/personal views either. He was, and still is, a staunch constitutional conservative, with the preservation and celebration of the 2nd Amendment being his primary sticking point. Well versed in all its subtleties, he is passionate about living a life that fosters his beliefs. He puts his money where his mouth is.
And the left despises him for it.
But they just don’t get him. Or don’t want to get him. Please, show me a man who’s more entrenched in the pragmatic sustenance of wildlife than this guy. He believes in the balance of nature. He believes that killing your own meat is much better, overall, for that balance than getting it from bottom-line driven, corporate slaughterhouses. And for this, and other conservative views, he is labeled a provocateur. A radical. A right-wing nut job to be silenced at every turn. Yet, concurrently, Eddie Vedder is an “activist”. Bruce Springsteen is an activist. Adored by the benevolent masses.
Please, spare me.
The Nuge is an activist too! Our activist. Our voice.
But if it makes you feel better to blatantly champion one kind of activist while vilifying the other-then be my guest. Ted Nugent doesn’t care about your labels. He doesn’t need your collective stamp of approval, mass-media. In fact, he enjoys toying with you. He’s telling an inside joke every day that flies over your head. He gets under your skin at every turn-and he knows it. If you want a villain, a boogeyman, he’ll gladly give you one.
And he’ll never waiver from his steadfast convictions, and neither will we. We see how the game is played in 2019. You’ve drawn your line in the sand. We see it. But if you think you’re going to step over it and tell us how to live our lives, I know of a certain rock and roll activist who may have something to say about it. He will have his crossbow pulled and waiting…
ready to put you in a stranglehold, baby!
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