Why do we write? And to whom? Dangerous questions that cry out for answers in these perilous times.

::::::::

Why do I write? That is the question I found myself asking, as the calendar turned over this month. Is it all an exercise in ego inflation? Am I fatally addicted to blowhardery? Or is there some higher purpose behind all these words?

The answer came to me like a revelation. I write to persuade. And if I write to persuade, I'm writing for people who disagree with me.

I don't write so I can get a lot of hits online and nice letters from fans who agree with my ideas. I write to persuade those who don't. But written argument is a tricky business; the temptation to exaggerate, to be hurtful and cruel, is very strong in print and it's even worse online. I know; I've succumbed to it many times.

I think I'm a pretty good writer, but I know I'm not a perfect one. Sometimes my aim isn't true. Sometimes a Predator Missile of satire hits some innocent civilians. It doesn't even have to be satire--there is always a danger of collateral damage when one shoots off his mouth in print.

As writers, we don't often stop to think about the regular folks who might be hurt or offended while we're tossing bombs at some big target. I know I haven't. But this is a new year, and I'm thinking about them now.

We've all heard, and been put off by, the mealy-mouthed apologies of politicians, media personalities and sports stars when they forget, for a moment, that their every foolish word will be broadcast on YouTube from here to eternity.

"To anyone who might have been offended by my words, I apologize." Which is tantamount to saying, "It's not really my fault, it's yours. But since you're mad at me, I had my legal team come up with this no-fault apology, because I make too much money being famous to put my endorsements at risk."

I don't have those excuses; I'm neither rich nor famous, so I'll try to be more generous with my apology.

"Dear readers, forgive me. I wasn't aiming for you when I shot at Dick Cheney or Julian Assange. When I blasted you Tea Partiers, I was shooting at your ideas, not your souls. When I make religious jokes my target is never your sincere, benevolent belief, it's the hateful twisting of the divine for malevolent purposes.

"When passion and frustration ruin my accuracy, when my attempts to persuade you crash, and anger you instead, I have failed us both.

"I apologize. Forgive me."

But I make no apologies for what I'm attempting to do with my writing. There is nothing wrong with strong opinion, powerfully expressed. And when one is a satirist like your humble servant, one has even more latitude. For the sake of the joke, nearly all things are permissible.

Besides, taking the high and the mighty down a peg is good, clean fun. They don't mind, they don't even read it. That's what interns are for.

But I do myself, and you, no favors when I alienate the very people I most want to reach.

I'm an old hippie. I believe in peace and love. Ideals that are as unattainable now as they were back in the sixties, and twice as corny.

But what else is there? War and hate? Anger and ignorance? Conflict and hostility? For the life of me, I can't think of a better set of values to strive for.

Peace and love. That is not only what I want to promote, it is how I need to promote it.

So here is my New Year's resolution. I will continue to try to be funny, and sometimes I'll overshoot the mark. I will continue to opine, and sometimes my enthusiasm will run away with my better nature. But I will not deliberately, with malice aforethought, spit in the face of the people I want to persuade.

When I write to progressives who have, in my opinion, have taken their hatred of injustice in America around the bend to hating America, I won't meet that hate with hatred. I will try to persuade them, as lovingly as I can.

When I write to conservatives who have let their suspicions of government become a paranoid rage that seeks only to destroy, I will not meet fire with fire. I will try to persuade them as lovingly as I can.

I know I will fall short, humans always do. But I promise you, I will try.

Authors Bio:
San Francisco based columnist, author, gym rat and novelist. My book, "The Confessions of a Catnip Junkie" is the best memoir ever written by a cat. Available on Amazon.com, or wherever fine literature is sold with no sales tax collected.

For those seeking more detail on yours truly, the following is from my website, allangoldstein.com, where you can partake copiously, and for free.

"Allan Goldstein lives in San Francisco with his wife, Jordan, and a minimum of two cats. His op-ed newspaper column,"Caught off Base," has appeared in San Francisco's West Portal Monthly for the past decade. Satire, invective and humor are specialties.

He also blogs regularly on opednews.com and on hypocrisy.com under the pseudonym Snark Twain. Other work has appeared in Spitball, The Baseball Literary Review, The Potomac Review, and several magazines including Rock and Gem and Pilot's Preflight. He is currently at work on his third novel."