Forty Years Ago

Forty years ago today, Man achieved what was once thought to be the impossible.

Forty years from today, the country from which Man first came will no longer exist.

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Thanks for leaving the redistribution stains over the glory, morons.

  “Take my advice and go back to the time you
  came from.  The future isn’t what it used to be.”
          — Ambassador G’Kar, Babylon 5






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The Fourth That Once Was Is A Fourth That’s No More


“I hope you don’t hold my liking WALL-E against me.”

Good Lord, NO!

“I just thought it was a cute movie.”

Which, if you don’t dissect it, it certainly is.  My trouble with it lies a little deeper.

“So, please, don’t think I’m an ‘environazi’ or anything like that because I thought WALL-E was a cute movie.”

I don’t, and I know you aren’t.  The reason you will be spared in the coming “purge” is because you have a great big brain.  Great big brains are not that piece of propaganda’s intended audience; tiny little talking monkey brains are.  This film is no different — NO different in any way, shape or form (aside from the glorious digital animation) — from any piece of National Socialist propaganda cranked out by Goebbels on Hitler’s behalf in 1930′s Germany.  Its stated mission (aside from making George Soros’ allies money) is to “…indoctrinate young people by educating them to accept that the mistakes of their parents cannot and should not be tolerated nor perpetuated in an era of drastic MAN MADE CLIMATE CHANGE.”

This is why we have who we have running the country right now, as it is the result of two generations of public school indoctrination into the manufacturing of a service industry society where all individual achievement is shunned and viewed as a collectivist success.  It’s also why I have said that it’s never been easier, because the American electorate has never been stupider.  Not ignorant, mind you, but stupid.  Ignorance can be cured by education, but, like Ron White says, you can’t fix stupid.

All great big brains — like yours — are immune to the illogic.

All brains that know only their collectivist training are disgusted by anyone who would point to achievement as not being the product of a committee.

“Honestly, I just think the robot is adorable.  And the cockroach.  That’s all.

Notice how the robot only gains empathy and love through watching Barbara Streisand in Hello Dolly?

Honestly?  If this movie were any more of a kick in the crotch of everything America once stood for, it would be goose-stepping.

Oh, and when a disease-carrying cockroach is anthropomorphized into being “adorable” you know you’re being preached to–no… Preached AT.


Okay.

Now that you’ve picked yourself up off the floor to wonder why I changed into such a raging ideologue asshole, please understand that this is what I do.  In fact, this is pretty much all I’ve done over the last two decades.  I do clarity, not compromise.  I come from a position that is the hardest ideological sale in the world, because it doesn’t rely on the usual mechanisms of change: fear and ignorance.  Instead, my “political sales pitch” is no sales pitch at all — which explains why my fellow Objectivists and I routinely fail at being elected; Ron Paul being the exception proving the rule.

You know how hard it is to get people to listen to you when the only thing you’re offering is the notion that Free Men have the right to be left alone?

No new programs?

No free money for special classes?

No efforts ending with the phrase “it’s for the children”?

Just living free within the constraints of the Constitution of this democratic constitutional republic?

(Note: NOT “democracy” but Republic.)


“Are you mad, sir?”


Oh, you have noooooooooooooooooo idea…


And, yes, I’m all about the enjoyment of what little we have left, but I am no longer able to turn my back and enjoy life the way I once did as a child.  This isn’t the hubris or apocalyptic notion of some crazed end-timer.  I am simply stating fact, and there is no opinion in fact.

We are, in every literal sense of the word’s definition, a fascist nation now.

And this electorate can’t seem to get enough of it.

I’m also in a particularly festive mood from having to wait TWO HOURS to clear a Pima County Sheriff’s Office random checkpoint coming back home from watching Otisburg’s largest firework display celebrating our nation’s birthday… A display that uses no taxpayer dollars, I might add.


The Founders did not leave us this legacy.


Stupidity did.


Happy Birthday, America.

Please accept my humble apologies for what we’ve done to soil your promise — mainly by thinking you ever owed us anything in the first place.

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The Man Next To You



I wrote the following for a friend who had been visiting VA hospitals in the Northwest during the Fall of 2007.  My friend was not part of any larger group or organization, he was visiting wounded vets simply because he believed he needed to.  After delivering some books and spending a few precious moments with one gravely wounded Marine, he reluctantly left the ward and proceeded to leave the hospital.   Not more than a minute later, a nurse came running down the hall after my friend in order to tell him that the Marine he had just spoken with had expired.   My friend was the last living soul to speak with this Marine.   It is my honor to call one man my friend.  It is my honor to call the other my countryman.


The Man Next To You


He waited.


He waited, but not for a parade, nor permission, nor a public pat on the head from some opportunistic policy maker.


He waited because he had yet to confirm he was good to go – but he couldn’t just hear it from anyone.


He waited to hear it from someone who mattered.


He waited to hear that it mattered.


He waited to hear that he mattered.


He waited for the only one with whom he knew he could trust his life.


He waited for the only one for whom he would give his life.


He waited for the man next to him.


He waited because, in the end, the man next to him was all that really mattered.


He waited because he knew the man next to him had always understood.




He departed knowing the man next to him had always had his back, and would someday stand beside another man.  The man next to him is who he was fighting for – who they‘re all still fighting for.  The rest is just background noise.


Just noise, that is, save for the last man to stand next to and comfort a wounded Marine.


At that moment, the man next to him became every man who’s ever stood at the side of another man in war.   At that moment, he more than mattered.



He made a difference.


He made us worthy.




Semper Fidelis, indeed.


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