DEC. 2019
My name is Tucker Parsons. Not Tucker Carlson.
The names are similar, the confusion is understandable.
But I’m not him.
He’s an opinion host on Fox News in Washington DC, I’m a copywriter and family man in Los Angeles. He has hair, I no longer do. He is rich, I am not. He wears bow ties, I never have.
We are not the same person.
I don’t deserve to be called a “pink necked identitarian”, an “alt right troll breeder”, or a “whoring racist dog whistler”. I don’t deserve any attention from any of you. I make a living writing ads for movies and TV shows, not attacking Kristen Clarke, whoever she is.
Sometimes I try to reply to some of you people who think I’m the other Tucker. You don’t take it well. No matter what I say, you insist I’m a bad guy. Not just a regular bad guy… a historic, racist, Hitler level bad guy. I try to tell you, that’s not me. You just say “That’s what Hitler would say!”
I don’t think Hitler actually would say that, but that’s a different conversation.
To my persistent friend “@veganworrior” I am not the “clod footed White ape” who was on Dancing With The Stars. Nor am I the “proto-fascist ass bucket” who co-found the Daily Caller. (btw, shouldn’t it be “@veganwarrior”?)
After many months of this, I finally watched the other Tucker’s show to see who this other Tucker was. Tucker Carlson is younger and (except for that sour expression) better looking than I am. He is also more scared, and more irritated. Watching him made me scared and irritated too. I was trying to understand what made him so angry, but I got distracted by my dog, who has a problem with her skin and scratches herself a lot and needs a special ointment or she scratches all night. Putting that ointment on her is an unpleasant chore, especially because she hates the elizabethan collar she has to wear to stop her from licking it all off and making herself sick. But doing this allows her to sleep, and makes her feel a lot better, which made me feel better too.
I don’t make my living calling people names, blaming anyone for anything, attacking liberals, or attacking anyone else for that matter. I don’t think blaming and attacking people… liberal or otherwise… is very useful. In my experience attacking people just makes them close their minds and attack you back. Pretty soon everyone’s exaggerating every wrong done to them and willfully misrepresenting stuff you said and it quickly just gets more stupid and ugly. And meanwhile there’s a sunset outside… and you might only get to see a sunset that beautiful once more in your life. You never know.
Unlike the Tucker you think I am, I am not estranged from my mother. My mother and I get along very well. My mother has not disinherited me from an oil and gas field in California valued at $2.5 million dollars. She never owned one. She rents her apartment, and at the age of 95, still works as a psychotherapist in Manhattan helping fellow New Yorkers manage their anguish, isolation, and stress. She’s very good at it. But she never owned an oil field. And if she did, I’m sure I’d wind up with a piece of it.
I don’t think I’m better than anyone, even the other Tucker. I don’t blame him for getting angry. I get angry too. There’s a lady who lives several blocks away who sometimes plants her broken down RV outside our house for a week at a time and takes up all the parking on the block. That makes me angry, especially if I discover it at 11 pm when I’m exhausted and looking for a spot. But I usually find a place to park somewhere not too far off, and the walk home does me good, and in the coming days I try to talk it out with her like a human being because she seems like a human being so why not try? It almost always works.
But that’s not the point.