ORLANDO
If you look back to the beginning of "Roadhouse Blog", you will notice that I have never made mention of my personal theology. This has never been an oversight, rather a purposeful decision. I have always asserted that it is not a prerequisite that you belong to any particular religion to be a conservative. Though conservative philosophy may be rooted in Judaeo-Christian beliefs, you don't need to be a Christian to understand and adopt the principals of conservatism as your own.
For instance, you can be an Atheist and understand free-market economics. You can be a Buddhist and understand the concept of national sovereignty. You can worship dirt and still understand the purpose and importance of a strict immigration process. So I would like to take this opportunity to set the record straight on my personal beliefs and their relevance to this post.
I'm a Christian. To "the left", that means I am an in-tolerant, hate-filled bigot who fears anyone different than myself. To Christians, it means that I am not even allowed to hate others...ANY others. So, when it is said that a Christian's opposition to certain parts of the "gay agenda" is based on hatred, I simply remind myself that I know better than that.
Yes, I will always dis-agree with the concept of "gay marriage" for both theological and practical reasons. Yes, I will always see the "transgendered" as suffering from a dis-associative mental disorder. And yes, I will always see homo-sexuality as a "sin".
That being said, after the terrorist attack at "Pulse", a popular Orlando, Florida night club frequented by the local gay community, I think it's high time we all take a step back and re-examine our priorities...not just as Christians or homosexuals, but as Americans.
My disapproval of some one's personal choices does not prevent me from accepting their value as an American. Besides, how ridiculous would it be for me to assume everyone agrees with some of my proclivities.
So, in the spirit of patriotism, I would like remind everyone of a few things. When a Muslim extremist attacks a gay bar, he's not just attacking "gays", he's attacking infidels. In infidel is anyone who is not willing to submit to Islam. The "gay" thing is really nothing more than a "twofer" for a Muslim terrorist. Similarly, my Christianity makes me a "twofer" as well. In that sense, a Christian and a homosexual have a common, equally brutal enemy who would like to see both of our heads removed. At the very least, it may be time for both of our camps to assert the "the enemy of our enemy is our friend" philosophy.
Furthermore, the Second Amendment protects every one's right to protect themselves...even homosexuals. A bullet does not care who fires it. It will take down a bad guy for a gay person just as well as for the strait. So, before you go sachet'ing on down to protest your local gun shop, maybe you'll want to consider going in and asking them to teach you how to shoot. A bedazzled pink .45 semi-auto is the perfect accessory to match your chartreuse feather boa...and it might just keep you alive too.
To sum up, getting shot at a gay bar is tragic, and so is getting shot at a mall, school, sporting event, concert, or on the street. So, I suggest we move our usual differences to the back burner for now, and focus on the what's really important...life.
Tuesday, June 21, 2016
Tuesday, February 2, 2016
Anti-Social
The term "Orwellian" has never been used as a compliment. There's a reason for that. George Orwell's "1984" depicted the consequences of what happens when society ultimately decides to trade liberty for convenience. The story illustrates the conflict between man's thirst for power and willingness to submit. If you've seen the movie or read the book, you know how terrifying Orwell's vision was.
After watching or reading "1984" you might find it strange and ironic that it's author was in real life a socialist. But when you consider the seductive nature of socialism, it's not exactly a "shocker".
Orwell saw his dystopian vision as a fictional account of socialism that is mearly mis-managed, as opposed to the natural end to a tyrannical means. He suffered from the same delusion as socialists from before his time and present day.
From Trotsky to Chomsky, advocates of socialism have believed that if we would simply allow a particular set of specific circumstances to fall into place, guided by a specific group of particularly chosen rulers, then socialism would blossom into a beautiful Utopian wonderland where all needs are met and all faces are smiling.
Flash forward to 2016 and we see the freight train of socialism barreling down the tracks in the form of Bernie Sanders and/or Hillary Clinton with Barack Obama as the conductor. The momentum and speed of it's approach is impressive and intimidating to say the least. But for all it's hype and popularity, this train will crash because it's tracks end at the solid granite mountain-face of human nature.
This is not a prediction that Sanders or Clinton could not possibly win...they absolutely could. It's simply my understanding that win or lose, their ideology will always lead to the same place...slavery. Not in the form of blacks submitting to the desires of all-powerful plantation owners, but in the form of citizens submitting to the desires of all-powerful government.
Like the plantation owner who maintained order among his "stock", a socialist government needs to do the same thing. When a slave needs food, water, clothing, shelter, or medical attention, he had better be worth the investment to the plantation owner, otherwise he/she will do without.
This is the same crude "social contract" philosophy used to seduce people to the "dark side" known as socialism. The common thread between slavery and socialism is power. Whoever happens to have it will be in charge until someone with a bigger stick comes along and takes it. Keep in mind that a bigger stick does not equate to intelligence, sophistication, common sense, compassion, fairness, morality, kindness, understanding or mercy.
This is typically where the discussion actually starts. The socialist will make a comparison to "corporations" holding power over the "little guy". A compelling concept...except. A corporation does not have the power to put me in jail or order a troop of armed men to break down my door at three AM. If a "little guy" like me does not like what one corporation is doing, I have options. I can do business with any number of other corporations, or none at all if I wish.
I am not compelled by force of law to comply with anything a corporation might want me to do. If Microsoft orders me to purchase their product, I can tell them to "pound sand", and Bill Gates is powerless to do anything about it. But if Barack Obama orders me to purchase a health care policy...I must submit, comply, give-in, bend over...etc. The fact that I have always paid my doctor's bills on-time means nothing. The fact that I have rights means nothing. The fact that I had better plans for that money means nothing. Such is slavery.
The socialist will tell you that corruption is one of the hallmarks of capitalism. Actually, corruption is a hallmark of human nature. More specifically, corruption is a hallmark of nature in general. The animal kingdom is not usually known for it's democratic principals.
Regardless of anyone's brand of governance, there will always be the risk of corruption. Under capitalism, you might bribe someone for a variance in a land deal. Under socialism, you will have to bribe someone to get anesthetic for you child's dental surgery. Corruption is perfectly comfortable festering in the heart of any type of ruler or society. If you want to end corruption, you're going to have to end life in it's entirety. Option "B" might be to put the "corrupt" in jail, let the animal kingdom do it's thing, and move on with your life.
Some would consider "theft" to be a form of corruption. It's hard to imagine something more corrupt that the theft of one's ambition. When you are dependent on someone, you are at their mercy...and they know that. Over time, that becomes your understanding of life. You have no desire to advance, because you know there is a penalty for straying from the prescribed metric assigned by the ruling class. You justify this existence by accepting the "greater good" guilt trip, and the "our experts know better" mantras you've been fed since birth.
As a result, new advancements are not made, and inspiration is kept "in check" so as to maintain order among the population. After all, if the ruling class wants to stay in power, enjoying all the benefits of their position, they can't have the people getting all "uppity". Logic dictates that anything that might typically "inspire" someone to think outside the box will need to be tightly regulated. This includes music, art, dance, education, magazines, the Internet, blogs, social media, speech and you guessed it...movies and books. The term "Orwellian" is so much more appropriate as a synonym for irony.
The term "Orwellian" has never been used as a compliment. There's a reason for that. George Orwell's "1984" depicted the consequences of what happens when society ultimately decides to trade liberty for convenience. The story illustrates the conflict between man's thirst for power and willingness to submit. If you've seen the movie or read the book, you know how terrifying Orwell's vision was.
After watching or reading "1984" you might find it strange and ironic that it's author was in real life a socialist. But when you consider the seductive nature of socialism, it's not exactly a "shocker".
Orwell saw his dystopian vision as a fictional account of socialism that is mearly mis-managed, as opposed to the natural end to a tyrannical means. He suffered from the same delusion as socialists from before his time and present day.
From Trotsky to Chomsky, advocates of socialism have believed that if we would simply allow a particular set of specific circumstances to fall into place, guided by a specific group of particularly chosen rulers, then socialism would blossom into a beautiful Utopian wonderland where all needs are met and all faces are smiling.
Flash forward to 2016 and we see the freight train of socialism barreling down the tracks in the form of Bernie Sanders and/or Hillary Clinton with Barack Obama as the conductor. The momentum and speed of it's approach is impressive and intimidating to say the least. But for all it's hype and popularity, this train will crash because it's tracks end at the solid granite mountain-face of human nature.
This is not a prediction that Sanders or Clinton could not possibly win...they absolutely could. It's simply my understanding that win or lose, their ideology will always lead to the same place...slavery. Not in the form of blacks submitting to the desires of all-powerful plantation owners, but in the form of citizens submitting to the desires of all-powerful government.
Like the plantation owner who maintained order among his "stock", a socialist government needs to do the same thing. When a slave needs food, water, clothing, shelter, or medical attention, he had better be worth the investment to the plantation owner, otherwise he/she will do without.
This is the same crude "social contract" philosophy used to seduce people to the "dark side" known as socialism. The common thread between slavery and socialism is power. Whoever happens to have it will be in charge until someone with a bigger stick comes along and takes it. Keep in mind that a bigger stick does not equate to intelligence, sophistication, common sense, compassion, fairness, morality, kindness, understanding or mercy.
This is typically where the discussion actually starts. The socialist will make a comparison to "corporations" holding power over the "little guy". A compelling concept...except. A corporation does not have the power to put me in jail or order a troop of armed men to break down my door at three AM. If a "little guy" like me does not like what one corporation is doing, I have options. I can do business with any number of other corporations, or none at all if I wish.
I am not compelled by force of law to comply with anything a corporation might want me to do. If Microsoft orders me to purchase their product, I can tell them to "pound sand", and Bill Gates is powerless to do anything about it. But if Barack Obama orders me to purchase a health care policy...I must submit, comply, give-in, bend over...etc. The fact that I have always paid my doctor's bills on-time means nothing. The fact that I have rights means nothing. The fact that I had better plans for that money means nothing. Such is slavery.
The socialist will tell you that corruption is one of the hallmarks of capitalism. Actually, corruption is a hallmark of human nature. More specifically, corruption is a hallmark of nature in general. The animal kingdom is not usually known for it's democratic principals.
Regardless of anyone's brand of governance, there will always be the risk of corruption. Under capitalism, you might bribe someone for a variance in a land deal. Under socialism, you will have to bribe someone to get anesthetic for you child's dental surgery. Corruption is perfectly comfortable festering in the heart of any type of ruler or society. If you want to end corruption, you're going to have to end life in it's entirety. Option "B" might be to put the "corrupt" in jail, let the animal kingdom do it's thing, and move on with your life.
Some would consider "theft" to be a form of corruption. It's hard to imagine something more corrupt that the theft of one's ambition. When you are dependent on someone, you are at their mercy...and they know that. Over time, that becomes your understanding of life. You have no desire to advance, because you know there is a penalty for straying from the prescribed metric assigned by the ruling class. You justify this existence by accepting the "greater good" guilt trip, and the "our experts know better" mantras you've been fed since birth.
As a result, new advancements are not made, and inspiration is kept "in check" so as to maintain order among the population. After all, if the ruling class wants to stay in power, enjoying all the benefits of their position, they can't have the people getting all "uppity". Logic dictates that anything that might typically "inspire" someone to think outside the box will need to be tightly regulated. This includes music, art, dance, education, magazines, the Internet, blogs, social media, speech and you guessed it...movies and books. The term "Orwellian" is so much more appropriate as a synonym for irony.
Wednesday, November 4, 2015
MARCH OF THE INSANE
As a working man, I can tell you in all honesty that I am not always a fan of reality. For me, "reality" is a mortgage, electric bill, gray hair, and high cholesterol. Like most, my reality includes a list of things that do not always match my personal desires. I may desire to be seven feet tall, but reality has deemed me to be a more common six. I may desire to be Asian, but reality has deemed me to be caucasian.
Complicating my life further is reality's complete lack of sympathy for my "feelings". I may really, really feel like a 350 lb. Sumo wrestler, but then that pesky reality shows up in my bathroom mirror in the form of a 185 lb. truck driver. I may really, really, really feel like a police officer, but I suspect that reality will step-in again the first time I try to arrest someone, or drive off in the Sheriff's squad car.
So, what if I simply refuse to accept this intrusion of reality into my otherwise normal life? Maybe if I simply proclaim that I am the Emperor of our local shopping mall, I can claim a Royal entitlement to unlimited access to the food court. In fact, isn't it my "right" to demand that every other man woman and child in the United States of America accommodate my delusion?
To aid in my quest to popularize dementia, I'm pretty sure I can rely on the media to take up my cause by convincing the masses that I am worthy of their sympathy. They can assist further by recruiting "experts" to teach us that anyone who disagrees with my fantasy-play-fest is guilty of a hate crime. It will only be a matter of time before I am hailed as a hero. What can possibly go wrong?
Now back to REALITY! In the real world, you can pretend to be something you're not as much as you want. It's a free country, and it's your business...that is, until it becomes my business. The problem is, this is not the United States of YOU! The rest of us live here too, and we have rights. Such as the right to not be forced to live a lie on account of someone else's "feelings".
So who do we blame for this absurdity? The left? The media? The schools? The courts? Absolutely, but let's not forget the "enabler" crowd. These are the friends and family of those suffering from "gender confusion". So caught up in a desire to be politically correct on one hand, but supportive on the other, they fall for the socially engineered hype cobbled together in university faculty lounges.
Rather than steer their loved one back onto the road to reality, they exacerbate the problem by playing along. If their son "feels" like a female, they refer to him as "her" and demand that the rest of us follow suite. They fight for his "right" to use the same bathroom as my eleven year old daughter while complimenting his choice of eye shadow. All the while expecting me to play along.
As for me, I refuse to comply. If I recognize your natural gender, that's exactly what I'm going to refer to you as. I'm not being rude, I'm being honest. Which is more than I can say for someone trying to bully me into denying reality.
Beyond simple reality, both truth and basic compassion demand that we grow up and start acting like adults. The Bruce Jenners of the world need help, not appeasement. Is it any wonder that the suicide rate among the "trans-gendered" is so high when the people closest to them are going out of their way to add to their confusion?
It is said that the road to Hell is paved with good intentions, and Jenner's family has paved many-a-mile...with the help of his adoring fans and "supporters".
As a working man, I can tell you in all honesty that I am not always a fan of reality. For me, "reality" is a mortgage, electric bill, gray hair, and high cholesterol. Like most, my reality includes a list of things that do not always match my personal desires. I may desire to be seven feet tall, but reality has deemed me to be a more common six. I may desire to be Asian, but reality has deemed me to be caucasian.
Complicating my life further is reality's complete lack of sympathy for my "feelings". I may really, really feel like a 350 lb. Sumo wrestler, but then that pesky reality shows up in my bathroom mirror in the form of a 185 lb. truck driver. I may really, really, really feel like a police officer, but I suspect that reality will step-in again the first time I try to arrest someone, or drive off in the Sheriff's squad car.
So, what if I simply refuse to accept this intrusion of reality into my otherwise normal life? Maybe if I simply proclaim that I am the Emperor of our local shopping mall, I can claim a Royal entitlement to unlimited access to the food court. In fact, isn't it my "right" to demand that every other man woman and child in the United States of America accommodate my delusion?
To aid in my quest to popularize dementia, I'm pretty sure I can rely on the media to take up my cause by convincing the masses that I am worthy of their sympathy. They can assist further by recruiting "experts" to teach us that anyone who disagrees with my fantasy-play-fest is guilty of a hate crime. It will only be a matter of time before I am hailed as a hero. What can possibly go wrong?
Now back to REALITY! In the real world, you can pretend to be something you're not as much as you want. It's a free country, and it's your business...that is, until it becomes my business. The problem is, this is not the United States of YOU! The rest of us live here too, and we have rights. Such as the right to not be forced to live a lie on account of someone else's "feelings".
So who do we blame for this absurdity? The left? The media? The schools? The courts? Absolutely, but let's not forget the "enabler" crowd. These are the friends and family of those suffering from "gender confusion". So caught up in a desire to be politically correct on one hand, but supportive on the other, they fall for the socially engineered hype cobbled together in university faculty lounges.
Rather than steer their loved one back onto the road to reality, they exacerbate the problem by playing along. If their son "feels" like a female, they refer to him as "her" and demand that the rest of us follow suite. They fight for his "right" to use the same bathroom as my eleven year old daughter while complimenting his choice of eye shadow. All the while expecting me to play along.
As for me, I refuse to comply. If I recognize your natural gender, that's exactly what I'm going to refer to you as. I'm not being rude, I'm being honest. Which is more than I can say for someone trying to bully me into denying reality.
Beyond simple reality, both truth and basic compassion demand that we grow up and start acting like adults. The Bruce Jenners of the world need help, not appeasement. Is it any wonder that the suicide rate among the "trans-gendered" is so high when the people closest to them are going out of their way to add to their confusion?
It is said that the road to Hell is paved with good intentions, and Jenner's family has paved many-a-mile...with the help of his adoring fans and "supporters".
Thursday, December 4, 2014
HEAD GAMES
A telltale sign of a failing culture is an inability to shock people. In a post-9/11 world, so many of us have seen in Hi-def, what previous generations could have never imagined. Our minds are jammed with sounds and images piped-in from any number of electronic devices at nearly every waking moment of our lives. On one hand, society has more opportunities to educate itself than ever before thanks to digital media. On the other, as we become more attached to and dependent on electronic communication, our ability to relate to each other on a human level seems to be questionable at best.
Is it any wonder that today, when a "death cult" posts their latest beheading of another human being onto the web, the masses react with about as much anger and disdain as when their team doesn't make the playoffs? Now that we have a self-imposed blurring of the lines between real life, and "reality TV", we enjoy a comfortable buffer from things that should shock and horrify us to action.
For a writer, such "action" could be to remind people of the horrors of which I speak. Beheading has been around for about as long as recorded history can tell us. It is the preferred method of execution of "infidels" by Muslims as prescribed by their "faith". Although, explosives, stoning, fire, acid, wood chippers, and pavement rollers are also acceptable ways for Muslims to demonstrate how secure they are in their "faith"as well. But, today we're going to focus strictly on beheading.
If there is anything left of it after years of video games and hip-hop music, I will need you to use your imagination...briefly. Imagine being held captive, while knowing that your fate is to have your head removed by a man wielding a large steel sword. Fast-forwarding past the time that you have to contemplate how this situation came to be, and the time you have to realize that you will never see your family again, we'll just get right to it.
For the sake of time, let's assume that your executioner's implement is razor sharp and he has the skills needed to do the job with one swift blow. Keeping also in mind though that neither of these are a priority. "Misses" are common, and occasionally intentional. Sawing and gauging motions are also a typical technique.
Regardless of your executioner's personal beheading style, the real horror comes after the physical trauma you experience as your head separates from your body. I have read that the human head can live for as much as six minutes after being detached from the body.
Six minutes stuck in an elevator. Six minutes waiting for a Quarter Pounder. Six minutes stuck at a construction zone. A six minute lecture from your spouse. All are unpleasant. But imagine spending six minutes - your last six minutes - watching your body thrash and twitch reflexively as the blood gushes from the hole where your head once was.
Try to imagine the thoughts that might race through your mind as you try to scream, but can't...because your lungs are no longer there to push air across your now-severed vocal cords. Your brain tries desperately to signal your arms, legs, or anything to react with some sort of defensive motion...but there's nothing. The connection is gone. For all it's pluses and minuses, what was once your body, is now being violently beaten with sticks and rocks as you can do nothing but watch...and think. For six minutes.
But don't worry my fellow infidel, this is probably not your fate...probably. Hey, what's on TV tonight?
A telltale sign of a failing culture is an inability to shock people. In a post-9/11 world, so many of us have seen in Hi-def, what previous generations could have never imagined. Our minds are jammed with sounds and images piped-in from any number of electronic devices at nearly every waking moment of our lives. On one hand, society has more opportunities to educate itself than ever before thanks to digital media. On the other, as we become more attached to and dependent on electronic communication, our ability to relate to each other on a human level seems to be questionable at best.
Is it any wonder that today, when a "death cult" posts their latest beheading of another human being onto the web, the masses react with about as much anger and disdain as when their team doesn't make the playoffs? Now that we have a self-imposed blurring of the lines between real life, and "reality TV", we enjoy a comfortable buffer from things that should shock and horrify us to action.
For a writer, such "action" could be to remind people of the horrors of which I speak. Beheading has been around for about as long as recorded history can tell us. It is the preferred method of execution of "infidels" by Muslims as prescribed by their "faith". Although, explosives, stoning, fire, acid, wood chippers, and pavement rollers are also acceptable ways for Muslims to demonstrate how secure they are in their "faith"as well. But, today we're going to focus strictly on beheading.
If there is anything left of it after years of video games and hip-hop music, I will need you to use your imagination...briefly. Imagine being held captive, while knowing that your fate is to have your head removed by a man wielding a large steel sword. Fast-forwarding past the time that you have to contemplate how this situation came to be, and the time you have to realize that you will never see your family again, we'll just get right to it.
For the sake of time, let's assume that your executioner's implement is razor sharp and he has the skills needed to do the job with one swift blow. Keeping also in mind though that neither of these are a priority. "Misses" are common, and occasionally intentional. Sawing and gauging motions are also a typical technique.
Regardless of your executioner's personal beheading style, the real horror comes after the physical trauma you experience as your head separates from your body. I have read that the human head can live for as much as six minutes after being detached from the body.
Six minutes stuck in an elevator. Six minutes waiting for a Quarter Pounder. Six minutes stuck at a construction zone. A six minute lecture from your spouse. All are unpleasant. But imagine spending six minutes - your last six minutes - watching your body thrash and twitch reflexively as the blood gushes from the hole where your head once was.
Try to imagine the thoughts that might race through your mind as you try to scream, but can't...because your lungs are no longer there to push air across your now-severed vocal cords. Your brain tries desperately to signal your arms, legs, or anything to react with some sort of defensive motion...but there's nothing. The connection is gone. For all it's pluses and minuses, what was once your body, is now being violently beaten with sticks and rocks as you can do nothing but watch...and think. For six minutes.
But don't worry my fellow infidel, this is probably not your fate...probably. Hey, what's on TV tonight?
Friday, April 4, 2014
FORT HOOD II
There comes a time when reasonable adults step back from a given situation and assess their options. As Americans, that time is now. It's high time we step back and ask some tough questions. The first being; Is it time to disband the military? Before you assume that my prolonged absence from the blog-o-sphere has resulted in some sort of de-programming by the left, I ask that you hear me out.
One of the hallmarks of a true conservative is a sense of pragmatism. This goes along with our use of logic, reason, and common sense when approaching an issue. This is also what sets us apart from the left. That, and pants that actually fit.
After the most recent Fort Hood shooting, I find myself questioning the logic of having a military force at all. Think about it. We take a fellow citizen who was gracious enough to volunteer his/her very life for the sake of others, and our government doesn't even have the decency to develop a proper way to use them.
We spend countless amounts of tax payer dollars to teach them how to destroy an enemy, and then we send them into a war zone with a sea-bag full of rules and regulations that prevent them from even insulting an enemy. Of coarse the enemy sees this and exploits it to their advantage, resulting in more flag-draped coffins landing at Dover AFB.
We elect people to positions of power who probably can't even pronounce the word victory, and go on to the further extreme of helping our enemies build their dream nation. So our troops get to see the Muslim Brotherhood gain an entire hemisphere on one side, while watching their brothers and sisters die on the other...both sanctioned and facilitated by their own President.
We train them (at great expense) in the proficient use of firearms, award them pins and medals for it, and then deny them the right to carry those firearms on the same soil that they are willing to die for to protect. This way, they can't defend themselves from "active shooters" while coming out of the PX with a quart of milk and loaf of bread.
We lower the bar for the training process in order to be more "inclusive" and to accommodate some misguided diversity experiment, and then act surprised when some of the test subjects crack under the pressure of war. In the old days, the weak were weeded-out in order to maintain the integrity of the whole force. Today they are welcomed with open arms, as if the U.S. military is supposed to be some sort of halfway house for emotional pansies.
We throw them into the meat grinder of combat and then berate them when the war doesn't poll well.
We subject them to this insanity, and when they finally do go insane, we throw psychotropic drugs at them and tell them to get in touch with their feelings. By the time our government-issued therapists realize that the drugs aren't working...the bullets are already coming out of the barrel.
It seems to me that it would almost be more humane to simply dissolve the military and let the chips fall where they may. After all, if we're not willing to build, maintain, and use the military for it's logical intended purpose, then what's the point of having it at all? Why put these men and women through the indignity of such vague, nebulous, and convoluted service to a nation where 50% of it's citizens have no understanding of liberty anyway?
It's time we turn our military bases into homeless shelters and marijuana farms. Then we can paint the Army tanks yellow and use them as school buses for Democrat-run inner cities. Finally, we can hire the former service members to teach the civilian population how to stand in line, take orders, and eat rationed food. We'll need to know how to do those things when Putin shows up.
There comes a time when reasonable adults step back from a given situation and assess their options. As Americans, that time is now. It's high time we step back and ask some tough questions. The first being; Is it time to disband the military? Before you assume that my prolonged absence from the blog-o-sphere has resulted in some sort of de-programming by the left, I ask that you hear me out.
One of the hallmarks of a true conservative is a sense of pragmatism. This goes along with our use of logic, reason, and common sense when approaching an issue. This is also what sets us apart from the left. That, and pants that actually fit.
After the most recent Fort Hood shooting, I find myself questioning the logic of having a military force at all. Think about it. We take a fellow citizen who was gracious enough to volunteer his/her very life for the sake of others, and our government doesn't even have the decency to develop a proper way to use them.
We spend countless amounts of tax payer dollars to teach them how to destroy an enemy, and then we send them into a war zone with a sea-bag full of rules and regulations that prevent them from even insulting an enemy. Of coarse the enemy sees this and exploits it to their advantage, resulting in more flag-draped coffins landing at Dover AFB.
We elect people to positions of power who probably can't even pronounce the word victory, and go on to the further extreme of helping our enemies build their dream nation. So our troops get to see the Muslim Brotherhood gain an entire hemisphere on one side, while watching their brothers and sisters die on the other...both sanctioned and facilitated by their own President.
We train them (at great expense) in the proficient use of firearms, award them pins and medals for it, and then deny them the right to carry those firearms on the same soil that they are willing to die for to protect. This way, they can't defend themselves from "active shooters" while coming out of the PX with a quart of milk and loaf of bread.
We lower the bar for the training process in order to be more "inclusive" and to accommodate some misguided diversity experiment, and then act surprised when some of the test subjects crack under the pressure of war. In the old days, the weak were weeded-out in order to maintain the integrity of the whole force. Today they are welcomed with open arms, as if the U.S. military is supposed to be some sort of halfway house for emotional pansies.
We throw them into the meat grinder of combat and then berate them when the war doesn't poll well.
We subject them to this insanity, and when they finally do go insane, we throw psychotropic drugs at them and tell them to get in touch with their feelings. By the time our government-issued therapists realize that the drugs aren't working...the bullets are already coming out of the barrel.
It seems to me that it would almost be more humane to simply dissolve the military and let the chips fall where they may. After all, if we're not willing to build, maintain, and use the military for it's logical intended purpose, then what's the point of having it at all? Why put these men and women through the indignity of such vague, nebulous, and convoluted service to a nation where 50% of it's citizens have no understanding of liberty anyway?
It's time we turn our military bases into homeless shelters and marijuana farms. Then we can paint the Army tanks yellow and use them as school buses for Democrat-run inner cities. Finally, we can hire the former service members to teach the civilian population how to stand in line, take orders, and eat rationed food. We'll need to know how to do those things when Putin shows up.
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
GALT'S GULCH OR BUST
Being a man of few ambitions, my "bucket list" is really not that long. Worse yet, it's not that exciting either. While some have managed to cross sky diving or swimming with sharks off their bucket list, I recently managed to cross reading "Atlas Shrugged" off mine. I know it's not exactly alligator wrestling, but at 1069 pages, it's a personal achievement none-the-less.
Let's be honest, it's length and less-than-satisfying ending make this book a challenge to read, and a risk to recommend to just any reader. That is not to say that Ayn Rand didn't hit the nail on the head in her attempt to illustrate how the real world works. She did.
As I started to read the book, it didn't take me long to notice the spooky parallels between things happening in Rand's fictional story line, and things actually happening in real life today. But it's not the similarities between the clash of human nature vs. public policy in the book, and pretty much everything I see in the news right now that gives me "the willies", it's the fact that this book was written in 1957!
Did Ayn Rand have a crystal ball, a sixth sense, or just a wicked talent for deduction? Who knows?
The premise of the book is to simply ask what would happen if the people who "make the wheels go-round" simply decided to quit working and drop out of society. After years of excessive regulation, excessive taxation, intrusive government interference, and the media slandering and misrepresenting them and their purpose to the public day after day, the industrialists, inventors, and producers of the nation decide that they've taken enough abuse. They pull their resources and go "on strike".
The book walks you through step by step the importance of industry to modern man and what happens when the ruling class tries to control the natural instincts of man as applied to the free market. Rand brilliantly illustrates the linkage between one industry to another and the "domino effect" that happens when "intellectuals" use their power to institute some convoluted brand of "social justice".
The title refers to the mythological god "Atlas" who's only purpose was to hold the Earth on his shoulders. So, the metaphor is to ask what happens if Atlas were to simply shrug his shoulders, drop the Earth, and walk away?
When I hear people rush to blame the "rich" for the ills of the world, I have visions of the people of Earth throwing rocks at Atlas every time something doesn't go their way. Rather than saying "Hey, Mr. Atlas! Thank's for holding the Earth in place!", he get's to hear "Hey, Mr. Atlas! You're rich, and I'm not, so that makes you a jerk!" Just how long should he have to put up with that? How long would you?
In the book, "Galt's Gulch" refers to the remote, hidden community built by the producers and industrialist of America to live during their "strike". Complete with their own power company and monetary system, they live a simple, yet comfortable life based on conservative principals and free market values...totally isolated from the outside world. As the outside world falls into ruin, the government tries to "fix" each new crisis with a new policy which inevitably spawns multiple new crises. Like some hellish game of "Wack-a-Mole", each government intervention costs more jobs, money, and lives until society falls into anarchy and chaos.
It's not likely that there will be a real-life "Galt's Gulch", but if there is, I'll be the guy standing in my front yard with my family yelling "Take us with you! I'm a worker! Not a moocher!"
Being a man of few ambitions, my "bucket list" is really not that long. Worse yet, it's not that exciting either. While some have managed to cross sky diving or swimming with sharks off their bucket list, I recently managed to cross reading "Atlas Shrugged" off mine. I know it's not exactly alligator wrestling, but at 1069 pages, it's a personal achievement none-the-less.
Let's be honest, it's length and less-than-satisfying ending make this book a challenge to read, and a risk to recommend to just any reader. That is not to say that Ayn Rand didn't hit the nail on the head in her attempt to illustrate how the real world works. She did.
As I started to read the book, it didn't take me long to notice the spooky parallels between things happening in Rand's fictional story line, and things actually happening in real life today. But it's not the similarities between the clash of human nature vs. public policy in the book, and pretty much everything I see in the news right now that gives me "the willies", it's the fact that this book was written in 1957!
Did Ayn Rand have a crystal ball, a sixth sense, or just a wicked talent for deduction? Who knows?
The premise of the book is to simply ask what would happen if the people who "make the wheels go-round" simply decided to quit working and drop out of society. After years of excessive regulation, excessive taxation, intrusive government interference, and the media slandering and misrepresenting them and their purpose to the public day after day, the industrialists, inventors, and producers of the nation decide that they've taken enough abuse. They pull their resources and go "on strike".
The book walks you through step by step the importance of industry to modern man and what happens when the ruling class tries to control the natural instincts of man as applied to the free market. Rand brilliantly illustrates the linkage between one industry to another and the "domino effect" that happens when "intellectuals" use their power to institute some convoluted brand of "social justice".
The title refers to the mythological god "Atlas" who's only purpose was to hold the Earth on his shoulders. So, the metaphor is to ask what happens if Atlas were to simply shrug his shoulders, drop the Earth, and walk away?
When I hear people rush to blame the "rich" for the ills of the world, I have visions of the people of Earth throwing rocks at Atlas every time something doesn't go their way. Rather than saying "Hey, Mr. Atlas! Thank's for holding the Earth in place!", he get's to hear "Hey, Mr. Atlas! You're rich, and I'm not, so that makes you a jerk!" Just how long should he have to put up with that? How long would you?
In the book, "Galt's Gulch" refers to the remote, hidden community built by the producers and industrialist of America to live during their "strike". Complete with their own power company and monetary system, they live a simple, yet comfortable life based on conservative principals and free market values...totally isolated from the outside world. As the outside world falls into ruin, the government tries to "fix" each new crisis with a new policy which inevitably spawns multiple new crises. Like some hellish game of "Wack-a-Mole", each government intervention costs more jobs, money, and lives until society falls into anarchy and chaos.
It's not likely that there will be a real-life "Galt's Gulch", but if there is, I'll be the guy standing in my front yard with my family yelling "Take us with you! I'm a worker! Not a moocher!"
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
TWO CAN PLAY THAT GAME
A common tactic used by up and coming tyrants and power hungry narcissists is to be surrounded by children during public appearances and use the power of cuteness to sway the masses toward any number of self-destructive policies. When children are not personally available for use as props or set decor, it's also typical to pull out a letter allegedly written by some dis-advantaged elementary school kid, who was so concerned about the issue-at-hand, that they decided to sit down and write their president a letter about it. As we all know, the one thing eight year olds love to do is write letters. I'm also pretty sure that there is no chance that the parents of these children had anything to do with their children's sudden interest in public policy. And it would surely be crazy talk to even suggest that someone desperate enough to exploit children for political purposes might go as far as to fake a "Dear President" letter...so I won't go there.
In keeping with the idea that what's good for the goose is good for the gander, I decided to adopt this tried and true liberal tactic myself. So here is a letter to President Obama that may or may not have been written by my daughter.
Dear Mr. President,
My name is _ _ _ _ _ _ and I am eight years old. My Daddy says you are trying to destroy our country so you can remake it the way you want to. My little brother does the same thing when I try to make animals with Play-dough. That makes me sad. My Daddy told me that we don't have as much money for ice cream and toys because you are taking more of his money to give to lazy people, and because Daddy's customers have less money to spend at his company for the same reason. If my Daddy's company doesn't have enough customers, will he lose his job? That would make me sad, because he said he would take us to the beach this year if we had enough money. I like to build sand castles.
Mr. Obama, are you going to take away people's guns? Our Principal said that a bad man hurt some kids with a gun and we should tell a teacher if we wanted to talk about our feelings. If a bad man comes to our school, who will help us if my teacher isn't allowed to shoot him? I would be very sad if my friend Timmy had to go to heaven because there was no way to stop the bad man. Timmy's birthday is next week, he is having a party.
My favorite story is "The Little Red Hen". It is a about animals on a farm that want some bread, but the hen is the only one that will work to make it. The other animals still think they should have the bread. My Daddy says that they think they are something called "entitled". That must mean "lazy". He says that you really need to read that book. If you come to our story time, I can read it to you.
I hope you get my letter and read it to the world like you do with letters from other kids. Please stop hurting my Mommy and Daddy. It makes me sad.
Your pawn,
_ _ _ _ _ _
A common tactic used by up and coming tyrants and power hungry narcissists is to be surrounded by children during public appearances and use the power of cuteness to sway the masses toward any number of self-destructive policies. When children are not personally available for use as props or set decor, it's also typical to pull out a letter allegedly written by some dis-advantaged elementary school kid, who was so concerned about the issue-at-hand, that they decided to sit down and write their president a letter about it. As we all know, the one thing eight year olds love to do is write letters. I'm also pretty sure that there is no chance that the parents of these children had anything to do with their children's sudden interest in public policy. And it would surely be crazy talk to even suggest that someone desperate enough to exploit children for political purposes might go as far as to fake a "Dear President" letter...so I won't go there.
In keeping with the idea that what's good for the goose is good for the gander, I decided to adopt this tried and true liberal tactic myself. So here is a letter to President Obama that may or may not have been written by my daughter.
Dear Mr. President,
My name is _ _ _ _ _ _ and I am eight years old. My Daddy says you are trying to destroy our country so you can remake it the way you want to. My little brother does the same thing when I try to make animals with Play-dough. That makes me sad. My Daddy told me that we don't have as much money for ice cream and toys because you are taking more of his money to give to lazy people, and because Daddy's customers have less money to spend at his company for the same reason. If my Daddy's company doesn't have enough customers, will he lose his job? That would make me sad, because he said he would take us to the beach this year if we had enough money. I like to build sand castles.
Mr. Obama, are you going to take away people's guns? Our Principal said that a bad man hurt some kids with a gun and we should tell a teacher if we wanted to talk about our feelings. If a bad man comes to our school, who will help us if my teacher isn't allowed to shoot him? I would be very sad if my friend Timmy had to go to heaven because there was no way to stop the bad man. Timmy's birthday is next week, he is having a party.
My favorite story is "The Little Red Hen". It is a about animals on a farm that want some bread, but the hen is the only one that will work to make it. The other animals still think they should have the bread. My Daddy says that they think they are something called "entitled". That must mean "lazy". He says that you really need to read that book. If you come to our story time, I can read it to you.
I hope you get my letter and read it to the world like you do with letters from other kids. Please stop hurting my Mommy and Daddy. It makes me sad.
Your pawn,
_ _ _ _ _ _
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
RAPE SQUADS REJOICE!
Apparently, chivalry is not only dead, but is was brutally beaten, gang-raped and sexually mutilated on the battlefield before-hand. But hey, let's not allow a little fly like "reality" to get in our politically correct ointment...right? Like most progressive ideas, it seems that either no one has taken the time to "workshop" the likely outcomes of allowing women in combat roles in the military, or simply no one cares. As someone with a mother, wife and daughter, I would like to be put into the "I care" column. In any case, our "Forward" thinking leaders have decided that they will be forgoing all that messiness of considering the possibility of tragic disaster, and gone ahead and opened the door to females in the theater of combat. What's the worst that could happen?
Well...rumor has it, that a certain "religion of peace" has a long history of sanctioned sexual abuse of women. You might recall the "rape rooms" of one Saddam Hussein. Is it beyond the realm of possibility that the same folks who traditionally mutilate the genitals of their own civilian female children, might actually consider treating female U.S. troops captured on the battlefield in a less-than-kind manner? Not as conservatives, or leftists, not as Republicans or Democrats, not as pot-smoking hippies or moonshine-swilling rednecks, but as men, are we ready to have this on our conscience? When it is one of our wives, mothers, or daughters that come home in a condition that I dare not think about, that's if they are even lucky enough to come home alive to begin with...what will we say to them? "Gee, sorry we allowed you to be subjected to horrors that you will never heal from, but look how we advanced political correctness!" "Yeah!" "You go girl!"
Then there are the slightly less tragic, but still just as real consequences of this little sociology experiment gone awry. Things such as pregnancy, P.M.S., and the since-the-dawn-of-man-but-only-until-last-week problem of the "love triangle" on the battlefield. Consider this, men and women have been driven by love, lust, and jealousy to do some of the most diabolical and depraved things to others and themselves since Adam first layed eyes on Eve. The names Van Gogh, OJ Simpson, and Lorena Bobbit come to mind. But whether you're severing ears, heads, and "wedding tackle", or just innocently infatuated with someone in your platoon, does it strengthen our forces to have drama in the ranks? It's one thing to have two guys at the office competing for the affection of the receptionist, but what happens if two infantrymen are competing for the same woman in their squad, and one is "supposed" to lay down some cover fire as the other takes the hill? Accidents happen...right?
Not that a married man such as myself would know anything about this next question...but. What happens to a woman's performance in a combat situation on one of those "heavy" days? I'm just asking! What happens to a unit's continuity when one of them has to be taken off the field due to pregnancy? Are there some who would play that card on purpose? It's probably easier than shooting yourself in the foot like men have to do when they want off the battlefield. Would an increase in pregnant troops strain medical units who are relied on to treat the wounded?
And finally, has anyone taken the time to consider the next draft? How can we possibly think that if there is ever a draft in the future, the same liberals won't be making the same arguments to demand women be included? After all, if women are to be treated "equally" when they volunteer, then it stands to reason that they will have to be treated "equally" when they don't. Will we be so ready to sacrifice our mothers, wives, and daughters then?
Our founding documents have certified that we are all created equal. The Bible says that we are all equal in the eyes of God. But nowhere is it written that we are created "identical". There are differences between the male and female of all species. This may not be a popular fact, but it's a fact none the less. And when we try to dismiss, ignore, or deny these differences, we shouldn't be surprised when human nature does not comply with our demands. When males and females get together, it is a natural likelihood that things will probably happen. And when marriages are destroyed and lives are lost unnecessarily, all for the sake of checking another box on a list of liberal agenda items, the blood will be on the hands of those who helped make it happen.
Apparently, chivalry is not only dead, but is was brutally beaten, gang-raped and sexually mutilated on the battlefield before-hand. But hey, let's not allow a little fly like "reality" to get in our politically correct ointment...right? Like most progressive ideas, it seems that either no one has taken the time to "workshop" the likely outcomes of allowing women in combat roles in the military, or simply no one cares. As someone with a mother, wife and daughter, I would like to be put into the "I care" column. In any case, our "Forward" thinking leaders have decided that they will be forgoing all that messiness of considering the possibility of tragic disaster, and gone ahead and opened the door to females in the theater of combat. What's the worst that could happen?
Well...rumor has it, that a certain "religion of peace" has a long history of sanctioned sexual abuse of women. You might recall the "rape rooms" of one Saddam Hussein. Is it beyond the realm of possibility that the same folks who traditionally mutilate the genitals of their own civilian female children, might actually consider treating female U.S. troops captured on the battlefield in a less-than-kind manner? Not as conservatives, or leftists, not as Republicans or Democrats, not as pot-smoking hippies or moonshine-swilling rednecks, but as men, are we ready to have this on our conscience? When it is one of our wives, mothers, or daughters that come home in a condition that I dare not think about, that's if they are even lucky enough to come home alive to begin with...what will we say to them? "Gee, sorry we allowed you to be subjected to horrors that you will never heal from, but look how we advanced political correctness!" "Yeah!" "You go girl!"
Then there are the slightly less tragic, but still just as real consequences of this little sociology experiment gone awry. Things such as pregnancy, P.M.S., and the since-the-dawn-of-man-but-only-until-last-week problem of the "love triangle" on the battlefield. Consider this, men and women have been driven by love, lust, and jealousy to do some of the most diabolical and depraved things to others and themselves since Adam first layed eyes on Eve. The names Van Gogh, OJ Simpson, and Lorena Bobbit come to mind. But whether you're severing ears, heads, and "wedding tackle", or just innocently infatuated with someone in your platoon, does it strengthen our forces to have drama in the ranks? It's one thing to have two guys at the office competing for the affection of the receptionist, but what happens if two infantrymen are competing for the same woman in their squad, and one is "supposed" to lay down some cover fire as the other takes the hill? Accidents happen...right?
Not that a married man such as myself would know anything about this next question...but. What happens to a woman's performance in a combat situation on one of those "heavy" days? I'm just asking! What happens to a unit's continuity when one of them has to be taken off the field due to pregnancy? Are there some who would play that card on purpose? It's probably easier than shooting yourself in the foot like men have to do when they want off the battlefield. Would an increase in pregnant troops strain medical units who are relied on to treat the wounded?
And finally, has anyone taken the time to consider the next draft? How can we possibly think that if there is ever a draft in the future, the same liberals won't be making the same arguments to demand women be included? After all, if women are to be treated "equally" when they volunteer, then it stands to reason that they will have to be treated "equally" when they don't. Will we be so ready to sacrifice our mothers, wives, and daughters then?
Our founding documents have certified that we are all created equal. The Bible says that we are all equal in the eyes of God. But nowhere is it written that we are created "identical". There are differences between the male and female of all species. This may not be a popular fact, but it's a fact none the less. And when we try to dismiss, ignore, or deny these differences, we shouldn't be surprised when human nature does not comply with our demands. When males and females get together, it is a natural likelihood that things will probably happen. And when marriages are destroyed and lives are lost unnecessarily, all for the sake of checking another box on a list of liberal agenda items, the blood will be on the hands of those who helped make it happen.
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
THE HARD WAY
The morning after the election, I went through a range of emotions. As you can imagine it went something like this; shock, disbelief, fear, anger, and then on to varying degrees of depression. On the way to work, I even quietly wondered to myself "What's the point of even going?" For a brief moment I seriously considered turning the truck around, going home, and spending the day playing board games with my kids. Then I thought, "No, that would make me one of them." I'm a worker. I work. That's what I do. I'm not ruled by emotions, jumping at every chance to use my feelings as an excuse to get out of doing something less than entertaining.
With that, I went on to a day of sucking it up, and moving on with my life. Of coarse, this did not cure my near-crippling depression and nagging sense of impending doom, but I still managed to keep all 18 wheels between the lines without aiming them at the first Prius with an Obama sticker that came into my view.
For the next three days, I instituted a total media blackout at casa de Roadhouse. With the exception of non-news oriented shows and channels, I shunned both my TV, and radio. During my self-imposed exile, it occurred to me that what's happening in our country can be compared to a similar dynamic happening in my own home.
I have two children, each representing one half of the population. Despite being part of the same family, and living under the same roof, both have vastly different ways of approaching life...much like our current electorate living in America.
With one child, I can tell her to not put her toy on the toilet tank because it will probably fall into the bowl. In most cases, she will examine the likelihood of that, compare it to my warning and put the toy in her room.
With the other, he will determine that he knows better, ignore my warning, put more toys on the tank, and soon, you can guess who will be fishing for a die-cast John Deere tractor and a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle action figure...PRE-flush. If you guessed "Roadhouse", you win the prize.
True, it's not my tractor or action figure, and it's not my feelings of regret, shame, and humiliation after the fact, but it is my hand that gets to go elbow-deep into a pool of unmentionable biology in order to fix the problem.
The flaw in my analogy is that my son can fall back on his young age and eagerness to be independent as a reasonable excuse for his short-sightedness. But for Americans of voting age in this country...not so much. So, though I am not looking "Forward" to it, I realize that there is little I can actually do about the fact that for at least the next four years, we are all going to be fishing for toys in a of bowl of poo.
The morning after the election, I went through a range of emotions. As you can imagine it went something like this; shock, disbelief, fear, anger, and then on to varying degrees of depression. On the way to work, I even quietly wondered to myself "What's the point of even going?" For a brief moment I seriously considered turning the truck around, going home, and spending the day playing board games with my kids. Then I thought, "No, that would make me one of them." I'm a worker. I work. That's what I do. I'm not ruled by emotions, jumping at every chance to use my feelings as an excuse to get out of doing something less than entertaining.
With that, I went on to a day of sucking it up, and moving on with my life. Of coarse, this did not cure my near-crippling depression and nagging sense of impending doom, but I still managed to keep all 18 wheels between the lines without aiming them at the first Prius with an Obama sticker that came into my view.
For the next three days, I instituted a total media blackout at casa de Roadhouse. With the exception of non-news oriented shows and channels, I shunned both my TV, and radio. During my self-imposed exile, it occurred to me that what's happening in our country can be compared to a similar dynamic happening in my own home.
I have two children, each representing one half of the population. Despite being part of the same family, and living under the same roof, both have vastly different ways of approaching life...much like our current electorate living in America.
With one child, I can tell her to not put her toy on the toilet tank because it will probably fall into the bowl. In most cases, she will examine the likelihood of that, compare it to my warning and put the toy in her room.
With the other, he will determine that he knows better, ignore my warning, put more toys on the tank, and soon, you can guess who will be fishing for a die-cast John Deere tractor and a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle action figure...PRE-flush. If you guessed "Roadhouse", you win the prize.
True, it's not my tractor or action figure, and it's not my feelings of regret, shame, and humiliation after the fact, but it is my hand that gets to go elbow-deep into a pool of unmentionable biology in order to fix the problem.
The flaw in my analogy is that my son can fall back on his young age and eagerness to be independent as a reasonable excuse for his short-sightedness. But for Americans of voting age in this country...not so much. So, though I am not looking "Forward" to it, I realize that there is little I can actually do about the fact that for at least the next four years, we are all going to be fishing for toys in a of bowl of poo.
Monday, January 14, 2013
THE NEW BUNKER MENTALITY
For those who care, there are many reasons I haven't blogged for more than a year. My family is my priority, and how I spend my free time reflects that. There's been no personal tragedies in my life, and my schedule hasn't changed that much since my last post. Truth be told, I've just been tired. After years of shouting in the wilderness, I had decided my family would be better off if I spent more time getting a good night's sleep, and less time trying to save liberals from themselves. But the pendulum swings on.
Looking back at the events of 2012, I can't seem to shake this nagging feeling of guilt that I associate with doing nothing as the neighborhood burns to the ground. Considering my very limited resources, I opted to ease back into the world of political debate. Curious to see if I still "got it", I figured I would fire some ideological shots over some metaphorical bows over at www.democraticunderground.com and maybe re-light the furnace here at my little right-wing oasis. Who would have thought that after only two...yes, TWO comments, they would kick me out of their web site.
Was I insulting? No. Was I making threats of any kind? No. In fact, I didn't even have a chance to start a polite debate with anyone there. Not being one to go quietly into the night, I prepared an E-mail response to the site moderator that was meant to illustrate their lack of confidence in their positions, and challenge them to a debate on their own turf. As I readied my index finger to click the "send" icon, I suddenly remembered who I was dealing with...liberals.
I thought back to the countless incidents of liberals going off the deep end around the world over the past few decades. From UAW workers attacking a disabled T.E.A. Party member, to "occupy" activists crapping on police cars, E.L.F. arsonists, Greek rioters, Sierra Club vandals, and even my own personal experiences with our "tolerant" advocates of peace.
I decided that people with skin that thin, and so willing to wall themselves into such an easily challenged ideology may not be reasonable enough to be trusted. Do I know that they would find my address and "try something"? No. But like I said, my family is my first priority...so why risk it?
Besides, I took their reaction to me as a sign of panic, and verification that I do in-fact still "got it".
For those who care, there are many reasons I haven't blogged for more than a year. My family is my priority, and how I spend my free time reflects that. There's been no personal tragedies in my life, and my schedule hasn't changed that much since my last post. Truth be told, I've just been tired. After years of shouting in the wilderness, I had decided my family would be better off if I spent more time getting a good night's sleep, and less time trying to save liberals from themselves. But the pendulum swings on.
Looking back at the events of 2012, I can't seem to shake this nagging feeling of guilt that I associate with doing nothing as the neighborhood burns to the ground. Considering my very limited resources, I opted to ease back into the world of political debate. Curious to see if I still "got it", I figured I would fire some ideological shots over some metaphorical bows over at www.democraticunderground.com and maybe re-light the furnace here at my little right-wing oasis. Who would have thought that after only two...yes, TWO comments, they would kick me out of their web site.
Was I insulting? No. Was I making threats of any kind? No. In fact, I didn't even have a chance to start a polite debate with anyone there. Not being one to go quietly into the night, I prepared an E-mail response to the site moderator that was meant to illustrate their lack of confidence in their positions, and challenge them to a debate on their own turf. As I readied my index finger to click the "send" icon, I suddenly remembered who I was dealing with...liberals.
I thought back to the countless incidents of liberals going off the deep end around the world over the past few decades. From UAW workers attacking a disabled T.E.A. Party member, to "occupy" activists crapping on police cars, E.L.F. arsonists, Greek rioters, Sierra Club vandals, and even my own personal experiences with our "tolerant" advocates of peace.
I decided that people with skin that thin, and so willing to wall themselves into such an easily challenged ideology may not be reasonable enough to be trusted. Do I know that they would find my address and "try something"? No. But like I said, my family is my first priority...so why risk it?
Besides, I took their reaction to me as a sign of panic, and verification that I do in-fact still "got it".
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR
I've been occasionally checking in on some of the footage of the post-pubescent children who constitute the "occupy Wall Street" mass mooch-ins that are infecting various cities in America this week. Originally, I wasn't planning to dignify them with my valuable typing time, but then I started to wonder...could these human parasites actually survive in the world they want to create? I doubt it.
Let's assume for the sake of discussion that their vague-yet-hilarious demands were met, and suddenly the "rich" were forced to hand over their wealth for equal distribution among those unwilling to work for a living. With profit now off the table, there would be no reason for anyone to continue advances in industries including, but not limited to health care, energy, transportation, security, housing, or even food production. What's the worse that could happen? Right?
Obviously I don't claim to know what such a future would look like in any accurate detail, but logic demands a scenario somewhere between the Great Depression and Orwell's "1984".
Could a person solely dependant on others, live and thrive in a world that would in all likelihood demand resourcefulness, personal motivation, and testicular fortitude? Could this particular brand of riff raff meet those standards? It seems to me that having a personal philosophy that leads you to believe you have some claim or entitlement to other's wealth would make you a pretty successful thief or gang leader in a Road Warrior-esque, post revolution, progressive/anarchistic utopia. Except for one little problem. These over-feminized, hyper-sensitized, vegetarian, latte swillers don't have enough muscle, backbone, or sufficiently thick skin to last a week in the future of their own creation.
In fact, it's more likely that if these "men" were lucky enough to survive the riots, viral epidemics and famine in the early years of lib-topia, they would never be able to escape being gang-raped by marauding bands of motorcycle gangs. After all, a true "progressive" would never carry a gun to protect themselves. And a true "liberal" wouldn't even think of hunting deer for meat. I simply assume that an un-armed, physically weak nineteen year old boy with green hair, "skinny jeans" and a Che Gueverra T-shirt, might be at a slight dis-advantage in the food chain of the future.
Just what does a parasite do when there is no more blood, or no more host? What do those who depend on hand-outs do, when there are no more hand-outs to take? Who do you steal from once you've made everyone poor? Once you kill the cow, where do you get your milk?
Oh well, I've never accused the left of being "forward thinkers". I guess they better just hope that "Bubba the biker" has a gentle side.
I've been occasionally checking in on some of the footage of the post-pubescent children who constitute the "occupy Wall Street" mass mooch-ins that are infecting various cities in America this week. Originally, I wasn't planning to dignify them with my valuable typing time, but then I started to wonder...could these human parasites actually survive in the world they want to create? I doubt it.
Let's assume for the sake of discussion that their vague-yet-hilarious demands were met, and suddenly the "rich" were forced to hand over their wealth for equal distribution among those unwilling to work for a living. With profit now off the table, there would be no reason for anyone to continue advances in industries including, but not limited to health care, energy, transportation, security, housing, or even food production. What's the worse that could happen? Right?
Obviously I don't claim to know what such a future would look like in any accurate detail, but logic demands a scenario somewhere between the Great Depression and Orwell's "1984".
Could a person solely dependant on others, live and thrive in a world that would in all likelihood demand resourcefulness, personal motivation, and testicular fortitude? Could this particular brand of riff raff meet those standards? It seems to me that having a personal philosophy that leads you to believe you have some claim or entitlement to other's wealth would make you a pretty successful thief or gang leader in a Road Warrior-esque, post revolution, progressive/anarchistic utopia. Except for one little problem. These over-feminized, hyper-sensitized, vegetarian, latte swillers don't have enough muscle, backbone, or sufficiently thick skin to last a week in the future of their own creation.
In fact, it's more likely that if these "men" were lucky enough to survive the riots, viral epidemics and famine in the early years of lib-topia, they would never be able to escape being gang-raped by marauding bands of motorcycle gangs. After all, a true "progressive" would never carry a gun to protect themselves. And a true "liberal" wouldn't even think of hunting deer for meat. I simply assume that an un-armed, physically weak nineteen year old boy with green hair, "skinny jeans" and a Che Gueverra T-shirt, might be at a slight dis-advantage in the food chain of the future.
Just what does a parasite do when there is no more blood, or no more host? What do those who depend on hand-outs do, when there are no more hand-outs to take? Who do you steal from once you've made everyone poor? Once you kill the cow, where do you get your milk?
Oh well, I've never accused the left of being "forward thinkers". I guess they better just hope that "Bubba the biker" has a gentle side.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
DANCING WITH THE FRAUD
One of the bonuses of being a truck driver is that I get to meet a wide cross-section of people every day. Inevitably, this exposes me to many varying opinions relating to any given subject. One such subject has risen in popularity lately with the announcement that Chastity Bono is going to be a contestant on "Dancing With the Stars". As expected, and according to plan, the resulting controversy about her appearance on the show sparked headlines and commentary from pretty much everyone in the media, as well as some of my co-workers.
You can safely assume what some of the more common thoughts on Chastity might be, but the theme I find most interesting comes from the "unsure" crowd. These are your friends or relatives who know that there's something wrong, but can't quite put their finger on it, let alone explain it. Thankfully, I'm here to do the heavy lifting on this one.
The reason there's a problem with Bono's appearance on the show is not so much that she's gay...it's because she's a fraud. The last time I checked, with the exception of actors playing a role, undercover police work, or Halloween costumes, pretending to be something you're not is a form of deception. And also the last time I checked, deception was something that was supposed to be frowned upon. I can assume Bono was the producer's choice because Bernie Madoff is currently...indisposed.
You see, Chastity Bono is no more a man than I'm a seven foot tall black guy. Sure, I could have my skin dyed, or take melanin injections, but would that change the fact that my family tree hails from parts far north of Africa? Does "feeling" like I should have been born a seven foot tall black man justify having femoral extensions implanted into my legs to make me taller? What does it say about the ethics of any doctor who would do such a procedure?
What if I decide that I "feel" like a police officer? Does that give me the power to arrest someone?
There are many accomplices taking part in this fraud. Starting with Chastity, a woman pretending to be a man, then having the audacity to expect and demand that everyone play along. Then, anyone who enabled or played along with the charade. This list includes anyone who refers to her as "him" or "Chaz", and ends with any member of the medical profession who had a hand in the mutilation of her body.
It's very simple folks. You play the hand you're dealt in life. If you're dealt a penis, you live life as a male, because that's what you are. If you're dealt a vagina, you live life as a woman. To do it any other way is to live a lie.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get ready for my NBA tryout.
One of the bonuses of being a truck driver is that I get to meet a wide cross-section of people every day. Inevitably, this exposes me to many varying opinions relating to any given subject. One such subject has risen in popularity lately with the announcement that Chastity Bono is going to be a contestant on "Dancing With the Stars". As expected, and according to plan, the resulting controversy about her appearance on the show sparked headlines and commentary from pretty much everyone in the media, as well as some of my co-workers.
You can safely assume what some of the more common thoughts on Chastity might be, but the theme I find most interesting comes from the "unsure" crowd. These are your friends or relatives who know that there's something wrong, but can't quite put their finger on it, let alone explain it. Thankfully, I'm here to do the heavy lifting on this one.
The reason there's a problem with Bono's appearance on the show is not so much that she's gay...it's because she's a fraud. The last time I checked, with the exception of actors playing a role, undercover police work, or Halloween costumes, pretending to be something you're not is a form of deception. And also the last time I checked, deception was something that was supposed to be frowned upon. I can assume Bono was the producer's choice because Bernie Madoff is currently...indisposed.
You see, Chastity Bono is no more a man than I'm a seven foot tall black guy. Sure, I could have my skin dyed, or take melanin injections, but would that change the fact that my family tree hails from parts far north of Africa? Does "feeling" like I should have been born a seven foot tall black man justify having femoral extensions implanted into my legs to make me taller? What does it say about the ethics of any doctor who would do such a procedure?
What if I decide that I "feel" like a police officer? Does that give me the power to arrest someone?
There are many accomplices taking part in this fraud. Starting with Chastity, a woman pretending to be a man, then having the audacity to expect and demand that everyone play along. Then, anyone who enabled or played along with the charade. This list includes anyone who refers to her as "him" or "Chaz", and ends with any member of the medical profession who had a hand in the mutilation of her body.
It's very simple folks. You play the hand you're dealt in life. If you're dealt a penis, you live life as a male, because that's what you are. If you're dealt a vagina, you live life as a woman. To do it any other way is to live a lie.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get ready for my NBA tryout.
Monday, August 8, 2011
CURING THE CULTURE
First, I'm not dead, I'm a Dad... and a husband. Since my last post, life has dealt me some interesting hands that have kept me from my blogging duties. Not to worry though, aside from a hale storm/tornado giving our house a good ol' fashioned ass whoop'n, and a work schedule that went into hyper drive at around the same time, everything has been going pretty well at the Roadhouse...house. And thanks to taking the time to research my choice in homeowners insurance policies when I bought our home ten years ago, the storm damage was well covered and since fixed.
I've written often about how being a conservative is not always easy. Let's face it, part of the mass appeal of liberalism is that it requires little in the way of intellect, foresight, reason, or personal ambition. On the flip side, conservatism is based in the idea that an individual is duty bound to pull his/her own weight, handle his or her own problems and do everything in their power to not put themselves in a position where they would need to depend on or mooch off of others. As expected, actually living this philosophy usually means some type of work and/or sacrifice.
Case in point; recently, we had a major problem with Mrs. Roadhouse's car. As opposed to taking it to the dealership, or "certified" mechanic, I opted to fix it myself. After all, that's what a conservative would do. Especially one who actually knows what those things under the hood do.
No do-it-yourself car project would be complete without a trip to ye-old auto parts store. For many shade tree mechanics, a parts store is also a place to socialize and catch up on local gossip. On this day, another local guy came into the shop as I was waiting for my parts. The conversation turned to what new venture he was starting, as he is known to be involved in various different enterprises. He told the guys behind the counter that he was getting into raising honey bees. I was not really paying attention to any of this until he proudly proclaimed that the government was going to give him $1000.00 per hive.
At that moment he had inadvertently pressed my "on" button. I calmly turned to him and said "I think you meant to say that WE are going to give you $1000.00 a hive...right?" as I motioned to everyone in the store. While looking at me as if I just grown a second head, he asked me what I meant. I reminded him that the government can not spend one plug nickel on anything, until it takes it from someone else first. I suggested to him that by rights, everyone in that store would be entitled to some of the honey from the hives we would be helping to finance, and we would be anxiously awaiting our first jar. Un-amused, he took his quarts of oil and left the store.
This incident, coupled with our government's child-like understanding of free market principals and the actual role of government supports my theory that nothing is going to change for the better in America until we break our addiction to Uncle Sam's ever-helping hand being expected to wipe our ever-dependant rear ends.
First, I'm not dead, I'm a Dad... and a husband. Since my last post, life has dealt me some interesting hands that have kept me from my blogging duties. Not to worry though, aside from a hale storm/tornado giving our house a good ol' fashioned ass whoop'n, and a work schedule that went into hyper drive at around the same time, everything has been going pretty well at the Roadhouse...house. And thanks to taking the time to research my choice in homeowners insurance policies when I bought our home ten years ago, the storm damage was well covered and since fixed.
I've written often about how being a conservative is not always easy. Let's face it, part of the mass appeal of liberalism is that it requires little in the way of intellect, foresight, reason, or personal ambition. On the flip side, conservatism is based in the idea that an individual is duty bound to pull his/her own weight, handle his or her own problems and do everything in their power to not put themselves in a position where they would need to depend on or mooch off of others. As expected, actually living this philosophy usually means some type of work and/or sacrifice.
Case in point; recently, we had a major problem with Mrs. Roadhouse's car. As opposed to taking it to the dealership, or "certified" mechanic, I opted to fix it myself. After all, that's what a conservative would do. Especially one who actually knows what those things under the hood do.
No do-it-yourself car project would be complete without a trip to ye-old auto parts store. For many shade tree mechanics, a parts store is also a place to socialize and catch up on local gossip. On this day, another local guy came into the shop as I was waiting for my parts. The conversation turned to what new venture he was starting, as he is known to be involved in various different enterprises. He told the guys behind the counter that he was getting into raising honey bees. I was not really paying attention to any of this until he proudly proclaimed that the government was going to give him $1000.00 per hive.
At that moment he had inadvertently pressed my "on" button. I calmly turned to him and said "I think you meant to say that WE are going to give you $1000.00 a hive...right?" as I motioned to everyone in the store. While looking at me as if I just grown a second head, he asked me what I meant. I reminded him that the government can not spend one plug nickel on anything, until it takes it from someone else first. I suggested to him that by rights, everyone in that store would be entitled to some of the honey from the hives we would be helping to finance, and we would be anxiously awaiting our first jar. Un-amused, he took his quarts of oil and left the store.
This incident, coupled with our government's child-like understanding of free market principals and the actual role of government supports my theory that nothing is going to change for the better in America until we break our addiction to Uncle Sam's ever-helping hand being expected to wipe our ever-dependant rear ends.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
ARE WE SUPPOSED TO FORGET...?
One of the great things about the Internet, books, magazines and newspapers is that they are a permanent record of opinions, ideas, and things that happened in the past. In recent weeks, I have come tho the conclusion that the Obama administration has either forgotten this, or they are simply to arrogant to care.
After September 11, 2001 I, like many others here in America became fixated on the news and what was happening around the world. Speaking for myself, that hasn't changed. Though I don't watch the news to the extent I did nine years ago, which lead to the FOX NEWS icon being permanently burned into the bottom left corner of my TV screen, I still pay close attention to what's going on out there. And though I don't have the photographic memory of my lovely wife, I do recollect a few things from recent years. One such thing is the war in Iraq.
From nearly day one, the media amplified the talking points of the anti-American left. We were treated to daily doses of screeching pacifists comparing President Bush to Adolph Hitler, and the invasion of Iraq to imperialism. We were told that going to Iraq was going to create more terrorists. We were told that despite the broad coalition of countries who were helping, it was still a "unilateral" invasion. We were told that despite the finding of mass graves, known use of weapons of mass destruction, the invasion of Kuwait, attempted assassination of a sitting President, support of terrorism, and active attempts to acquire nuclear weapons, Saddam Hussein was no threat to the United States.
Flash forward to today and the "whatchamacallit" we're doing in Libya. Don't get me wrong, you will never hear me complain about Mohmar Quadafi being taken out of power...but. Where are the accusations of being "bogged down in a quagmire"? Why no cries of this being an "illegal invasion"? Where is Code Pink and Cindy Sheehan? Who's whining about "exit strategies" now? Where are those ever-pennywise Democrats that were so concerned about cost of the war in Iraq now? Are fighter planes and missiles free now?
Personally, my issue regarding Libya is less about the total and absolute hypocrisy from the left, and more about the apparent "let's see what happens if we do this" approach we seem to be taking there. It's one thing to help the townsfolk fight back against an infamous street gang such as the "Bloods". But what if there was a pretty good chance that most of those "townsfolk" were actually made up of of members of the "Crips", and/or "MS-13"? Imagine being that U.S. fighter pilot who's job it is to take out Quadafi's forces, but you know in the back of your mind that in all likelihood, you're actually helping the Taliban, or Al Queda take over another Middle Eastern country. On top of that, you can also assume that according to our justification for going to Libya, we'll be going to Syria, Yemen, Darfur, and every other totalitarian society on the globe in the next few months as well. After all, it wouldn't be fair to only pick on Libya, when so many other countries treat their people so much worse. Right?
Such moral dilemmas are part of the reason I have so much respect for our military. Following orders that you know are going to bite you in the ass later is just one of many indignities our military are forced to put up with. If it were me in that fighter plane, I think I'd be tempted to just say "screw it" and pull the eject lever. That's the difference between someone serving in the military, and a civilian puke like me.
One of the great things about the Internet, books, magazines and newspapers is that they are a permanent record of opinions, ideas, and things that happened in the past. In recent weeks, I have come tho the conclusion that the Obama administration has either forgotten this, or they are simply to arrogant to care.
After September 11, 2001 I, like many others here in America became fixated on the news and what was happening around the world. Speaking for myself, that hasn't changed. Though I don't watch the news to the extent I did nine years ago, which lead to the FOX NEWS icon being permanently burned into the bottom left corner of my TV screen, I still pay close attention to what's going on out there. And though I don't have the photographic memory of my lovely wife, I do recollect a few things from recent years. One such thing is the war in Iraq.
From nearly day one, the media amplified the talking points of the anti-American left. We were treated to daily doses of screeching pacifists comparing President Bush to Adolph Hitler, and the invasion of Iraq to imperialism. We were told that going to Iraq was going to create more terrorists. We were told that despite the broad coalition of countries who were helping, it was still a "unilateral" invasion. We were told that despite the finding of mass graves, known use of weapons of mass destruction, the invasion of Kuwait, attempted assassination of a sitting President, support of terrorism, and active attempts to acquire nuclear weapons, Saddam Hussein was no threat to the United States.
Flash forward to today and the "whatchamacallit" we're doing in Libya. Don't get me wrong, you will never hear me complain about Mohmar Quadafi being taken out of power...but. Where are the accusations of being "bogged down in a quagmire"? Why no cries of this being an "illegal invasion"? Where is Code Pink and Cindy Sheehan? Who's whining about "exit strategies" now? Where are those ever-pennywise Democrats that were so concerned about cost of the war in Iraq now? Are fighter planes and missiles free now?
Personally, my issue regarding Libya is less about the total and absolute hypocrisy from the left, and more about the apparent "let's see what happens if we do this" approach we seem to be taking there. It's one thing to help the townsfolk fight back against an infamous street gang such as the "Bloods". But what if there was a pretty good chance that most of those "townsfolk" were actually made up of of members of the "Crips", and/or "MS-13"? Imagine being that U.S. fighter pilot who's job it is to take out Quadafi's forces, but you know in the back of your mind that in all likelihood, you're actually helping the Taliban, or Al Queda take over another Middle Eastern country. On top of that, you can also assume that according to our justification for going to Libya, we'll be going to Syria, Yemen, Darfur, and every other totalitarian society on the globe in the next few months as well. After all, it wouldn't be fair to only pick on Libya, when so many other countries treat their people so much worse. Right?
Such moral dilemmas are part of the reason I have so much respect for our military. Following orders that you know are going to bite you in the ass later is just one of many indignities our military are forced to put up with. If it were me in that fighter plane, I think I'd be tempted to just say "screw it" and pull the eject lever. That's the difference between someone serving in the military, and a civilian puke like me.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
LOVE THY BULLY
When I sat down this evening in hopes of pounding out a brilliant think-piece about America's latest bout with Libya, I realized immediately that it just wasn't going to happen...at least not tonight. I did make a half-hearted attempt, but putting such massive amounts of hypocrisy, incompetence, and short-sightedness into one article was going to take more time and patience than I happen to have tonight. For now, "ROADHOUSE ON LIBYA" will have to wait. In the meantime, I offer the following substitute.
In recent months, it's been hard to miss the growing trend of anti-bullying messaging in the media and throughout my daughter's school. When President Obama referenced bullying in one of his many "let's talk about this so you won't focus on my total lack of competence" speeches last week, I knew I had to address the topic. And as usual, I will be taking a road less traveled on the issue.
Let's face it, being bullied is no fun. Yes, I do speak from experience. The effect it can have on your dignity and self esteem can be devastating and emotionally crippling. On the other hand, being bullied can be a lesson in life that you will draw on for the rest of your days. The choice is almost always that of the "victim".
As with most problems in life, liberals are under some weird impression that lots of your money, legislation, regulation and public service propaganda campaigns will somehow magically end bullying. Even if bullying could be ended with the wave of a hand, Jedi mind trick style, I think it is in our children's best interest if we take a minute to ask if bullying actually should be stopped.
Consider this. What lesson does a child take away from a scenario where he/she is bullied, and an all-powerful third party steps in and saves the day? Did the child learn self-reliance and the value of knowing how it feels to overcome adversity? No, he/she learned how to be totally dependent on some other person or group, reinforcing and solidifying his/her low self esteem.
Now, what lesson does the same child take away from being allowed or even forced to handle the bully on his/her own terms? Win or lose, the child will never be 40 years old, still living with the regret of not at least trying to stick up for themselves.
Personally, being bullied was probably the most influential factor in shaping my personality to this day. I don't even remember how many months I suffered, fearing my bus ride to middle school because of my bully. Thankfully, I had parents who were wise enough to push me into standing up for myself. So one day, shortly after he started his daily routine of pushing me around, my bully was met with a fist in the face, resulting in his blood on the bus floor. From that day on, he never bothered me, or anyone else on that bus again.
As far away as that day is now, I still reflect back on that particular bus ride whenever I have a challenge to face in my adult life. Call it survival of the fittest, call it natural selection, or call it the school of hard knocks, but my bully has saved my self esteem and maybe even my life many times over in the decades since that encounter. Looking back, I realize that being bullied was probably the best thing that ever happened to me.
When I sat down this evening in hopes of pounding out a brilliant think-piece about America's latest bout with Libya, I realized immediately that it just wasn't going to happen...at least not tonight. I did make a half-hearted attempt, but putting such massive amounts of hypocrisy, incompetence, and short-sightedness into one article was going to take more time and patience than I happen to have tonight. For now, "ROADHOUSE ON LIBYA" will have to wait. In the meantime, I offer the following substitute.
In recent months, it's been hard to miss the growing trend of anti-bullying messaging in the media and throughout my daughter's school. When President Obama referenced bullying in one of his many "let's talk about this so you won't focus on my total lack of competence" speeches last week, I knew I had to address the topic. And as usual, I will be taking a road less traveled on the issue.
Let's face it, being bullied is no fun. Yes, I do speak from experience. The effect it can have on your dignity and self esteem can be devastating and emotionally crippling. On the other hand, being bullied can be a lesson in life that you will draw on for the rest of your days. The choice is almost always that of the "victim".
As with most problems in life, liberals are under some weird impression that lots of your money, legislation, regulation and public service propaganda campaigns will somehow magically end bullying. Even if bullying could be ended with the wave of a hand, Jedi mind trick style, I think it is in our children's best interest if we take a minute to ask if bullying actually should be stopped.
Consider this. What lesson does a child take away from a scenario where he/she is bullied, and an all-powerful third party steps in and saves the day? Did the child learn self-reliance and the value of knowing how it feels to overcome adversity? No, he/she learned how to be totally dependent on some other person or group, reinforcing and solidifying his/her low self esteem.
Now, what lesson does the same child take away from being allowed or even forced to handle the bully on his/her own terms? Win or lose, the child will never be 40 years old, still living with the regret of not at least trying to stick up for themselves.
Personally, being bullied was probably the most influential factor in shaping my personality to this day. I don't even remember how many months I suffered, fearing my bus ride to middle school because of my bully. Thankfully, I had parents who were wise enough to push me into standing up for myself. So one day, shortly after he started his daily routine of pushing me around, my bully was met with a fist in the face, resulting in his blood on the bus floor. From that day on, he never bothered me, or anyone else on that bus again.
As far away as that day is now, I still reflect back on that particular bus ride whenever I have a challenge to face in my adult life. Call it survival of the fittest, call it natural selection, or call it the school of hard knocks, but my bully has saved my self esteem and maybe even my life many times over in the decades since that encounter. Looking back, I realize that being bullied was probably the best thing that ever happened to me.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
HUMILITY 101
Since the devastating earth quake and resulting tsunami, followed by impending nuclear disaster in Japan, there have been many lessons to be learned. As a distant observer nestled in my comfy country home hear in America, I have the luxury of picking and choosing what to take away from the tragedy in Japan. I could focus on the many political angles, or question the wisdom of building nuclear plants in known earthquake zones. I could focus on the media's complete and total incompetence in their reporting of the situation in there. Or I could simply distract myself from the devastation with basketball brackets and trips to Rio DeJinerio (like some people have chosen to do).
Rather, I am going to stick with my usual ROADHOUSE BLOG m.o. of seeing things just a little bit differently than most folks. Regardless of any religious or theological tendencies you may or may not have, there is one lesson that you are duty-bound to learn from what's happening in the land of the rising sun. The lesson is a simple one: You (we) just ain't "all that".
While you were considering the long term global effects of what particular type of light bulb you were going to purchase, there were tectonic plates beneath your feet considering what particular day they are going to shift, causing your entire house to be swallowed by a massive undiscovered fault line.
While you were wringing your hands at the checkout line because you had to decide which method of grocery bagging would have the least effect on the mating habits of some obscure species of field mouse in the year 2053, a nearby body of water was contemplating surging across the shoreline, destroying everything you ever loved.
The point is, you can worry about whatever unproven, fraudulent, over-hyped, yet-to-actually be witnessed, future faux-disaster you want to. But just remember this, as we learned last Friday, your recycling bin will not save you from twenty million gallons of water and debris rushing toward you at 100 mph. There is no natural disaster that will be impressed that you drive a Prius.
In short, we are small. As a species, we are so insignificant in the grand scheme of things, that we are really not in a position to waste time preparing for theoretical dilemmas. Considering the size, scope, and longevity of Mother Nature, it seems to me that we would be better off spending our time, money, and energy preparing for things we actually know can happen. Maybe the climate will change to an un-sustaneable level because I bought the wrong light bulb, maybe it won't. But in the meantime, I know for a fact that there will be volcanoes, floods, tsunamis, earthquakes, droughts, and swarms of angry man-eating locusts sometime between the end of time, and the next thirty seconds. Maybe we should concentrate on some of that.
Since the devastating earth quake and resulting tsunami, followed by impending nuclear disaster in Japan, there have been many lessons to be learned. As a distant observer nestled in my comfy country home hear in America, I have the luxury of picking and choosing what to take away from the tragedy in Japan. I could focus on the many political angles, or question the wisdom of building nuclear plants in known earthquake zones. I could focus on the media's complete and total incompetence in their reporting of the situation in there. Or I could simply distract myself from the devastation with basketball brackets and trips to Rio DeJinerio (like some people have chosen to do).
Rather, I am going to stick with my usual ROADHOUSE BLOG m.o. of seeing things just a little bit differently than most folks. Regardless of any religious or theological tendencies you may or may not have, there is one lesson that you are duty-bound to learn from what's happening in the land of the rising sun. The lesson is a simple one: You (we) just ain't "all that".
While you were considering the long term global effects of what particular type of light bulb you were going to purchase, there were tectonic plates beneath your feet considering what particular day they are going to shift, causing your entire house to be swallowed by a massive undiscovered fault line.
While you were wringing your hands at the checkout line because you had to decide which method of grocery bagging would have the least effect on the mating habits of some obscure species of field mouse in the year 2053, a nearby body of water was contemplating surging across the shoreline, destroying everything you ever loved.
The point is, you can worry about whatever unproven, fraudulent, over-hyped, yet-to-actually be witnessed, future faux-disaster you want to. But just remember this, as we learned last Friday, your recycling bin will not save you from twenty million gallons of water and debris rushing toward you at 100 mph. There is no natural disaster that will be impressed that you drive a Prius.
In short, we are small. As a species, we are so insignificant in the grand scheme of things, that we are really not in a position to waste time preparing for theoretical dilemmas. Considering the size, scope, and longevity of Mother Nature, it seems to me that we would be better off spending our time, money, and energy preparing for things we actually know can happen. Maybe the climate will change to an un-sustaneable level because I bought the wrong light bulb, maybe it won't. But in the meantime, I know for a fact that there will be volcanoes, floods, tsunamis, earthquakes, droughts, and swarms of angry man-eating locusts sometime between the end of time, and the next thirty seconds. Maybe we should concentrate on some of that.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
COLLECTIVE BULLYING
I've been watching the events in Wisconsin for the past few weeks, and I am reminded of the fact that we have a long way to go in the fight to fix our educational system. On full display for everyone to see is a broken public school system run by the same people we are supposed to entrust our health care to...our government.
Rather than put my own personal spin on ground that's been well traveled over past couple of weeks by bringing up the cowardly democrats who fled like rats to avoid doing their job, or connecting the dots from President Obama to the labor unions, or whining yet again about the unfair coverage and blatantly bias coverage by the media of Governor Walker's fight to balance his state's budget, I'm simply going to boil this all down to a philosophical discussion. How's that for a run-on sentence?
Ask yourself the following question; Do the rights offered in this country apply to every citizen, or only the well connected? To ask me, you would hear me tell you that our rights apply to everyone, to ask a union representative, you would hear a well worded tap dance designed to distract you from the fact that he/she believes that the rights of a union member overrides and usurps that of an employer or the amount of money that employer has to work with in their budget during any given fiscal year.
Much like the big kid who would threaten "swirlies" unless you forked over your lunch money, unions threaten "strikes" unless you fork over wages and/or benefits that the free market would not otherwise provide under normal circumstances. At this point, the typical union member would proudly say, "Exactly, unions raise the standard of compensation for workers!". OK, but what happens when that artificially inflated level of compensation can no longer be afforded by the employer? Answer: Your employer either shuts it's doors, or bills the tax payer for a bailout as in the case of GM and Chrysler.
Worse yet, the difference between the car industry bailouts and what's happening in Wisconsin is the fact that in the case of the auto industry, the divide is between "labor" and "management". Labor being guilty of bullying their way to compensation packages that would eventually bankrupt the manufacturer while inflating the price of the car, and management being guilty of letting them, and then having the nerve to assume the tax payer should foot the bill. Yet in the case of Wisconsin, the divide is between labor being guilty of bullying their way to compensation packages that would eventually bankrupt the state while harming the quality of the children's education, and the tax payer being guilty of earning a paycheck and trying to provide for their family in the middle of a government induced recession. It's ironic that in both disputes, the tax payer is the one expected to fork over the cash.
As a conservative, I am duty bound to accept the rights of all people, even if the rights of others might not be in my best financial interest. That means I realize that when I pursue a particular job, it is the right of the employer to offer the terms of the job, and it is my right to accept them or not. It is my right to go elsewhere in search of employment, and it is the employer's right to offer an unreasonable compensation package that will result in him/her not being able to find quality employees, ultimately resulting in failure of his/her business. So says the free market.
For me to come to the negotiating table with a third party who's sole purpose is to win me "extras" that this particular job would not usually entitle me to, says a lot about me. It says that I can not stand on my own two feet, and that I have trouble navigating life without some powerfull third party holding my hand. It also says that I am starting from an adversarial position regarding my future relationship with my employer. It also tells you that I am not very forward thinking, because I do not recognize the exponential costs of my demands, and their inevitable result...unemployment. So says liberalism.
Lost in the haze of the Wisconsin debate are thousands of kids who are not being taught, by teachers who routinely claim that they teach because they "love children and love to teach". I guess that's as long as they pull down a salary and benefits package that would be the envy of any truck driver on the interstate.
I've been watching the events in Wisconsin for the past few weeks, and I am reminded of the fact that we have a long way to go in the fight to fix our educational system. On full display for everyone to see is a broken public school system run by the same people we are supposed to entrust our health care to...our government.
Rather than put my own personal spin on ground that's been well traveled over past couple of weeks by bringing up the cowardly democrats who fled like rats to avoid doing their job, or connecting the dots from President Obama to the labor unions, or whining yet again about the unfair coverage and blatantly bias coverage by the media of Governor Walker's fight to balance his state's budget, I'm simply going to boil this all down to a philosophical discussion. How's that for a run-on sentence?
Ask yourself the following question; Do the rights offered in this country apply to every citizen, or only the well connected? To ask me, you would hear me tell you that our rights apply to everyone, to ask a union representative, you would hear a well worded tap dance designed to distract you from the fact that he/she believes that the rights of a union member overrides and usurps that of an employer or the amount of money that employer has to work with in their budget during any given fiscal year.
Much like the big kid who would threaten "swirlies" unless you forked over your lunch money, unions threaten "strikes" unless you fork over wages and/or benefits that the free market would not otherwise provide under normal circumstances. At this point, the typical union member would proudly say, "Exactly, unions raise the standard of compensation for workers!". OK, but what happens when that artificially inflated level of compensation can no longer be afforded by the employer? Answer: Your employer either shuts it's doors, or bills the tax payer for a bailout as in the case of GM and Chrysler.
Worse yet, the difference between the car industry bailouts and what's happening in Wisconsin is the fact that in the case of the auto industry, the divide is between "labor" and "management". Labor being guilty of bullying their way to compensation packages that would eventually bankrupt the manufacturer while inflating the price of the car, and management being guilty of letting them, and then having the nerve to assume the tax payer should foot the bill. Yet in the case of Wisconsin, the divide is between labor being guilty of bullying their way to compensation packages that would eventually bankrupt the state while harming the quality of the children's education, and the tax payer being guilty of earning a paycheck and trying to provide for their family in the middle of a government induced recession. It's ironic that in both disputes, the tax payer is the one expected to fork over the cash.
As a conservative, I am duty bound to accept the rights of all people, even if the rights of others might not be in my best financial interest. That means I realize that when I pursue a particular job, it is the right of the employer to offer the terms of the job, and it is my right to accept them or not. It is my right to go elsewhere in search of employment, and it is the employer's right to offer an unreasonable compensation package that will result in him/her not being able to find quality employees, ultimately resulting in failure of his/her business. So says the free market.
For me to come to the negotiating table with a third party who's sole purpose is to win me "extras" that this particular job would not usually entitle me to, says a lot about me. It says that I can not stand on my own two feet, and that I have trouble navigating life without some powerfull third party holding my hand. It also says that I am starting from an adversarial position regarding my future relationship with my employer. It also tells you that I am not very forward thinking, because I do not recognize the exponential costs of my demands, and their inevitable result...unemployment. So says liberalism.
Lost in the haze of the Wisconsin debate are thousands of kids who are not being taught, by teachers who routinely claim that they teach because they "love children and love to teach". I guess that's as long as they pull down a salary and benefits package that would be the envy of any truck driver on the interstate.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
YOU'RE HIRED...not!
Last week, while playing with my son, the phone rang. The caller ID read: "PA SENATE". Ever the pessimist, I almost didn't answer it, assuming it was some sort of robo-call, or plea for donations by someone's lower tier staffer. The curiosity got the best of me, so I answered it. As it turns out, it was actually my State Senator Rich Alloway. Still the pessimist, I was waiting for him to ask for a donation, but he didn't. Instead, he just wanted to call me personally to tell me how much he enjoyed reading my book.
You see, some time back, he was speaking at a local fund raiser, and after some coaxing from my wife, I attended the event and gave him a copy of my book. Senator Alloway's call was very sincere and we had a great conversation about the media and general politics. After his call, I could feel my ego inflating. After all, it's not every day that a State Senator calls you for no other purpose than to say he's a fan of your work.
As pure coincidence, Alloway was to be hosting a job fair at an events center here in my home town. I decided to stop by and introduce myself in person. I'm glad I did, because though Alloway recognized me right away and couldn't have been a cooler dude to talk to, the event itself turned out to be worth the frozen/Arctic trip into town on it's own.
I've been to job fairs in the past, but this was easily the biggest one I have ever attended. Being there as an employed truck driver allowed me to observe the event as an outsider. After all, I wasn't there to find a job.
As I watched the variety of people wandering aimlessly throughout the boothes manned by various trade schools, community colleges, and local industries, I realized two things. One, you know unemployment is too high when a job fair in a rural area such as this can draw a crowd this size (1000+people). And two, you could easily split that crowd into two groups; those who want a job, and those who don't.
Those who wanted a job were easy to spot. They were comprised of people who went the extra mile to look their best. Dress pants, and pressed shirts for the men, dresses and heels for the ladies. All carrying some sort of folder containing a portfolio and resume. In this group there was also a sub-strata. Those who wanted a job, but weren't going to get one because they sabotaged themselves before they even left their house.
These were the folks that took the time to wear the right clothes, prepared the right portfolios, but couldn't find a convincing way to hide the "flaming skull with rotting flesh" tattoo etched into their neck. Not to be out done, there was the guy who realized all too late that the giant disks that usually plugged half-dollar sized holes in his earlobes were probably not going to help his employment situation, so he opted to ditch the disks and went with the "I want my earlobes to look like soggy onion rings" look.
Last week, while playing with my son, the phone rang. The caller ID read: "PA SENATE". Ever the pessimist, I almost didn't answer it, assuming it was some sort of robo-call, or plea for donations by someone's lower tier staffer. The curiosity got the best of me, so I answered it. As it turns out, it was actually my State Senator Rich Alloway. Still the pessimist, I was waiting for him to ask for a donation, but he didn't. Instead, he just wanted to call me personally to tell me how much he enjoyed reading my book.
You see, some time back, he was speaking at a local fund raiser, and after some coaxing from my wife, I attended the event and gave him a copy of my book. Senator Alloway's call was very sincere and we had a great conversation about the media and general politics. After his call, I could feel my ego inflating. After all, it's not every day that a State Senator calls you for no other purpose than to say he's a fan of your work.
As pure coincidence, Alloway was to be hosting a job fair at an events center here in my home town. I decided to stop by and introduce myself in person. I'm glad I did, because though Alloway recognized me right away and couldn't have been a cooler dude to talk to, the event itself turned out to be worth the frozen/Arctic trip into town on it's own.
I've been to job fairs in the past, but this was easily the biggest one I have ever attended. Being there as an employed truck driver allowed me to observe the event as an outsider. After all, I wasn't there to find a job.
As I watched the variety of people wandering aimlessly throughout the boothes manned by various trade schools, community colleges, and local industries, I realized two things. One, you know unemployment is too high when a job fair in a rural area such as this can draw a crowd this size (1000+people). And two, you could easily split that crowd into two groups; those who want a job, and those who don't.
Those who wanted a job were easy to spot. They were comprised of people who went the extra mile to look their best. Dress pants, and pressed shirts for the men, dresses and heels for the ladies. All carrying some sort of folder containing a portfolio and resume. In this group there was also a sub-strata. Those who wanted a job, but weren't going to get one because they sabotaged themselves before they even left their house.
These were the folks that took the time to wear the right clothes, prepared the right portfolios, but couldn't find a convincing way to hide the "flaming skull with rotting flesh" tattoo etched into their neck. Not to be out done, there was the guy who realized all too late that the giant disks that usually plugged half-dollar sized holes in his earlobes were probably not going to help his employment situation, so he opted to ditch the disks and went with the "I want my earlobes to look like soggy onion rings" look.
Moving on to those who had no intention of finding work. They were easy to spot as well. Many in this group moved in packs. Bringing friends and family and looking like reject extras from a bad rap video, these folks weren't even trying to be discreet about their agenda. They were there to grab job applications so they can fill them out as a requirement for unemployment benefits and welfare.
All in all, braving the elements to experience my town's job fair extravaganza turned out to be not only a great chance to see slackers and go-getters in their full glory, but it was also a good chance to push my son around in his stroller and make fun of people.
Monday, January 10, 2011
LIL' GANGSTAS
Maybe the reality that confronts me daily in the form of newly issued grey hairs is finally sinking in. Maybe I actually am out of touch. Maybe my intellect has not yet reached a level that would allow me to properly contextualize any form of entertainment popularized after 1987. Maybe I actually am an over-protective parent. Or, maybe there is a segment of society that cannot muster enough fore-sight/long term speculative reasoning ability to recognize a bad idea when they see one. This segment is known as the "clueless parent".
First, in the interest of full disclosure, it has been brought to my attention that my following opinion could be mis-interpreted as some sort of racial prejudice. So, to set the record straight...it is not. Please withhold judgement until the end of this piece.
Recently, my six year old daughter was in our living room when she decided to start dancing. This is not unusual because she has lots of energy and loves to dance. The problem was the particular dance she was doing. Cross between the ticks of someone who suffers from cerebral palsy and something I would commonly see on the dance floor of bars I used to frequent before I met my wife, this "dance" concerned me enough to ask my daughter what she was doing.
She explained that she was do the "tooty-ta" dance. After further inquiry, I learned that it was something she was taught in her first grade class, and it turned out to be a video that I was able to find on "You-Tube".
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qULd3d_gDCg
As a father, I am told that one of my duties is to protect my children from things that might harm them or things that might not be in their best interest. I am also told that my wife and I are responsible for whatever our children turn out to be as adults. On both points, I am in total agreement.
In the year 2011, the ever-growing list of things I need to protect my children from includes but is not limited to the following...bees, germs, snakes, pedophiles, sharp objects, traffic, drugs, pimps, prostitutes, stripper poles, and negative stereotypes disguised as cute, harmless little dances for children.
Call me crazy, but I have a bit of a problem with my kid being taught to emulate the mannerisms of people who refuse to wear clothes that fit properly, and can't seem to figure out which end of the hat is the front. Top that with comically large gold medallions and non-sensical lyrics and viola! A brand new gangsta rapper in training. Every parent's dream.
As for the racism angle, not so fast. My prejudice against rap music runs both deep and wide, and for many reasons to be written about in a future article. But this has nothing to do with skin color. It simply has to do with musical tastes. And for those who doubt my sincerity, I offer my CD collection as exhibit "A". It contains the following artists: Buddy Guy, John Lee Hooker, Muddy Waters, Jimi Hendrix, Stevie Wonder, Miles Davis, Taj Mahal, Ray Charles, Bo Diddly, BB King, and a whole list of other black musicians who know how to make music with actual instruments, as opposed to electronic sampling programs.
As for "tooty ta", it has no apparent educational value for kids of any color.
Maybe the reality that confronts me daily in the form of newly issued grey hairs is finally sinking in. Maybe I actually am out of touch. Maybe my intellect has not yet reached a level that would allow me to properly contextualize any form of entertainment popularized after 1987. Maybe I actually am an over-protective parent. Or, maybe there is a segment of society that cannot muster enough fore-sight/long term speculative reasoning ability to recognize a bad idea when they see one. This segment is known as the "clueless parent".
First, in the interest of full disclosure, it has been brought to my attention that my following opinion could be mis-interpreted as some sort of racial prejudice. So, to set the record straight...it is not. Please withhold judgement until the end of this piece.
Recently, my six year old daughter was in our living room when she decided to start dancing. This is not unusual because she has lots of energy and loves to dance. The problem was the particular dance she was doing. Cross between the ticks of someone who suffers from cerebral palsy and something I would commonly see on the dance floor of bars I used to frequent before I met my wife, this "dance" concerned me enough to ask my daughter what she was doing.
She explained that she was do the "tooty-ta" dance. After further inquiry, I learned that it was something she was taught in her first grade class, and it turned out to be a video that I was able to find on "You-Tube".
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qULd3d_gDCg
As a father, I am told that one of my duties is to protect my children from things that might harm them or things that might not be in their best interest. I am also told that my wife and I are responsible for whatever our children turn out to be as adults. On both points, I am in total agreement.
In the year 2011, the ever-growing list of things I need to protect my children from includes but is not limited to the following...bees, germs, snakes, pedophiles, sharp objects, traffic, drugs, pimps, prostitutes, stripper poles, and negative stereotypes disguised as cute, harmless little dances for children.
Call me crazy, but I have a bit of a problem with my kid being taught to emulate the mannerisms of people who refuse to wear clothes that fit properly, and can't seem to figure out which end of the hat is the front. Top that with comically large gold medallions and non-sensical lyrics and viola! A brand new gangsta rapper in training. Every parent's dream.
As for the racism angle, not so fast. My prejudice against rap music runs both deep and wide, and for many reasons to be written about in a future article. But this has nothing to do with skin color. It simply has to do with musical tastes. And for those who doubt my sincerity, I offer my CD collection as exhibit "A". It contains the following artists: Buddy Guy, John Lee Hooker, Muddy Waters, Jimi Hendrix, Stevie Wonder, Miles Davis, Taj Mahal, Ray Charles, Bo Diddly, BB King, and a whole list of other black musicians who know how to make music with actual instruments, as opposed to electronic sampling programs.
As for "tooty ta", it has no apparent educational value for kids of any color.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
LAST RIGHTS
Throughout history, one of the identifying features of a civilized culture has been the respecting of a dying man's last request. Whether a matter of law, policy, or unwritten rule, the seeing-through of the deceased's last wishes has usually been considered a noble act reserved for the closest of kin or best of friend. Then came liberalism.
Where common sense and general decency dictate that your property is exactly that-your property, liberalism dictates that your property belongs to the government, who allows you to "borrow" it until the moment of your death, at which time they have the right to reclaim it. At least, that seems to be the logic behind the idea of the "death tax".
Consider this. Assuming that you are a law abiding citizen, during your time on this Earth, every paycheck you ever earn is taxed before it even touches your hand. Then, everything you ever purchase is taxed...sometimes redundantly. By rights, (and the constitution) anything left over is supposed to be yours. Consequently, it is supposed to be you who makes the decisions regarding who will inherit what's left over. But, as with all other decisions in life, liberals believe that your last request should be left to that Goliath of bureaucracy we call "the government".
I say "Why stop there"? If the government is entitled to decide who gets your money when you die, then why not the rest of your stuff? After all, who are you to decide who gets your family photos? Pets? Clothes? Beer stein collection? Books? Baseball cards? Etc, etc...
With liberalism having such a "death grip" on our life...and death, it's easy to see why it is no longer a custom to place pennies on the eyes of the dead.
Throughout history, one of the identifying features of a civilized culture has been the respecting of a dying man's last request. Whether a matter of law, policy, or unwritten rule, the seeing-through of the deceased's last wishes has usually been considered a noble act reserved for the closest of kin or best of friend. Then came liberalism.
Where common sense and general decency dictate that your property is exactly that-your property, liberalism dictates that your property belongs to the government, who allows you to "borrow" it until the moment of your death, at which time they have the right to reclaim it. At least, that seems to be the logic behind the idea of the "death tax".
Consider this. Assuming that you are a law abiding citizen, during your time on this Earth, every paycheck you ever earn is taxed before it even touches your hand. Then, everything you ever purchase is taxed...sometimes redundantly. By rights, (and the constitution) anything left over is supposed to be yours. Consequently, it is supposed to be you who makes the decisions regarding who will inherit what's left over. But, as with all other decisions in life, liberals believe that your last request should be left to that Goliath of bureaucracy we call "the government".
I say "Why stop there"? If the government is entitled to decide who gets your money when you die, then why not the rest of your stuff? After all, who are you to decide who gets your family photos? Pets? Clothes? Beer stein collection? Books? Baseball cards? Etc, etc...
With liberalism having such a "death grip" on our life...and death, it's easy to see why it is no longer a custom to place pennies on the eyes of the dead.
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