A Mandatory Theft

     Yes, Gentle Reader: there are times when stealing is mandatory. Our favorite Graybeard has provided one:

     It cannot be put any better than that.

Unspeakable? Why?

WARNING!
Rough Language Ahead!
Send the kiddies out of the room!

     Nearly fifty years ago, a great jurist, Associate Justice John Marshall Harlan, decided that it was critical to make an important point about freedom of speech...by saying fuck in an open session of the Supreme Court during his reading of the majority opinion in a freedom-of-speech case. He offended a lot of sensibilities, including those of Chief Justice Warren Burger, by doing so. Yet he had established once and for all that the word fuck, at that time generally deemed one of the “unspeakable” words, is protected by the First Amendment to the Constitution of the United States. The incident is reported in Bob Woodward and Scott Armstrong’s excellent book The Brethren, a chronicle of the first years of the Burger Court.

     As with words, so also with opinions, including political opinions. Of course, that’s hardly the attitude of the contemporary Left. Their military wing AntiFa doesn’t believe you have a right to express your opinion. Your opinion is “hate speech,” and therefore beyond the pale. Only opinions they approve shall be allowed the freedom of speech.

     Which brings us to this morning’s pseudo-controversy: a series of tweets from President Donald Trump:

     Quoth our second-favorite Bookworm:

     The reaction from the Progressive and Democrat cohort, encompassing politicians, presidential candidates, and the media, was predictable: RACIST!!! It did not matter that Trump said nothing about race. There was a dog whistle there and, naturally enough, race-obsessed Leftists heard it.

     President Trump refused to be cowed:

     The combination has sent a number of generally sensible and perceptive conservative commentators into a frenzy of hand-wringing, complete with prognostications of doom.

     I have only one question: Why?

     Would the majority of Americans find fault with the sentiments Trump expressed? I think not. Indeed, I think the great majority of the nation has been waiting for a forthright, fearless spokesman for Americanism. It’s part of the reason we elected Trump president, isn’t it?

     Then was there something offensive about the way the president expressed himself? I can’t find it. It was clear to whom he was referring. It was equally clear what he was castigating them for. He made no references that exceeded their persistent, vicious, even slanderous denunciations of the laws of the United States and the enforcers thereof.

     Yet even conservatives who’ve applauded Trump at other times seem to think he’s damaged himself with the tweets above. Either the Republican Establishment and the media have drummed the “niceness uber alles” ethic too deeply into their skulls, or they harbor an unreasonable fear of the sensibilities and judgment of the sensible and reasonable common people of these United States.

     My assessment is quite the opposite of theirs. It’s beginning to look as if, come November 2020, the Democrats will be hard pressed to hold Illinois, New York, and California, no matter how many canvassers they send to the graveyards.

---

     Several years ago, Historian wrote thus:

     There is a reason that those who would rule us fear a frank and open discussion of their abuses of power, their arrogance, their elitism, their cowardice in the face of our enemies. They fear an honest critique of their Marxist value system, of their attempts to destroy the rule of law, and of their corruption. They know well the power of ideas, of free thought and inquiry, and they have been working slowly for over a century to destroy that which they fear. Above all, they fear being forced to confront the essential nature of their inhuman creed, which is why collectivists pathologically avoid the truth and strive to conceal their acts and beliefs. One of the ways in which this gradual erosion of our liberties has been concealed is by means of perverted politeness.

     Politeness was used as a weapon against the Jews, many of whom would not allow themselves to conceive that the German National Socialist pogrom would actually be so rudely carried out against them, and who politely walked to the gas chambers to the strains of Mozart and Beethoven, as requested. There are many reasons for the Holocaust, but perversion of politeness was one of them. If you think it incredible that thousands of people walked to their death for fear of being impolite, ask yourself, "Am I any different?"

     Wild applause! If your enemies succeed in silencing you – especially in the expression of objectively verifiable truths – what can they not do to you? And if they’re willing to silence you, what wouldn’t they be willing to do? What virtue is there in kowtowing to their strident and entirely insincere claims of offense?

     Fuck ‘em and the swaybacked, spavined nags they rode in on. Fuck ‘em up the ass, sideways, with a rusty ripsaw! Send them back to the shitholes they fled and watch how they express themselves there! The time for prissy self-restraint in the face of their provocations has passed...if, indeed, there ever was such a time.

     My Gentle Readers know I have a fair facility with the English language. Yet even I find that certain sentiments are best expressed in the fashion of the paragraph above. Moreover, I deem it imperative that millions more voices be raised in such terms and to that effect.

     Historian asked:

Why stand you there silent?
Where are the awkward questions, the rude insistence on speaking the truth?
Why are there not MILLIONS of blogs such as this on the Internet?
Why is Liberty a minority opinion?
Why is the rule of law mostly an historic concept?
Why do you let Marxists set the terms of the debate?
Why do you respect illegitimate authority?

     And why, oh why, do we repress our own perfectly justified, righteous anger at these contemptible vermin who, having been succored by the greatest and most generous nation ever to exist, persist in defaming it and accusing it of all manner of entirely fictitious offenses?

     Take the gloves off, Gentle Reader. It’s long past time.

What Americans Do

     I’ve gotten a lot of feedback about The Wise and the Mad. Not all of it has been positive. Some of the comments have castigated me for “approving” of the recently much-discussed phenomenon of transgenderism. Some of the castigations have verged on condemnations. Yes, really.

     You’d almost get the idea that a writer must believe, with absolute fidelity, what each of his characters believes, and would do what each of his characters would do if put into their particular situations. Hot Flash To the Slow Of Uptake: It isn’t so. It’s never been so. And it is particularly distressing to hear any of my readers express an attitude that ignorant of what a fiction writer struggles to do.

     Wait, strike that last: “What a fiction writer struggles to do” — ? Naah. What an American tries to do...and, God willing, succeeds.

---

     “Thank you for this, Miss Holly.” Fountain buckled herself into the passenger seat as Holly started the engine. “I enjoy cooking, but my lord has always reserved the grocery shopping to himself. He’s allowed me to accompany him to the supermarket only once.”
     “Did you enjoy it, dear?” Holly pulled out of the Sokoloffs’ driveway and headed toward the Wegmans at the edge of the city of Onteora.
     “Greatly, Miss Holly. It was a place of wonder. Even now it seems I must have imagined it, that such a dream of abundance could not have been real.”
     Holly chuckled as she turned onto Grand Avenue. “It was no dream, dear. America is a place of fabulous abundance. More than those who abused you dared to let you see or know. Think of all the other wonders you’ve witnessed since Larry found you. The comfortable homes and furniture. All the cars. The beautiful music you’ve heard and the instruments it was played on. All the books, movies, and television shows. All the kitchen gadgets that make cooking easier. The gorgeous clothes and shoes Larry and Trish have bought for you. Those things weren’t produced by miracles, but by men who wanted them to exist and labored to make it happen.” She reached over to caress Fountain’s cheek. “Just as you have labored to create your marvelous dishes. It’s what Americans do.”
     “Am I an American, then, Miss Holly?”
     Holly pulled into the Wegmans parking lot, quickly chose a space, and carefully positioned her car in its exact center. She killed the engine and turned to her companion.
     “You, Fountain, are as American as any of us,” she said. “More than I am, really. Many years ago I left America for another place far away, out of a need to escape from my family. I should have stayed and fought for myself. I’m back now, and may I never again feel the urge to flee my native land, where I have always belonged.” She smiled. “Do you have a list of ingredients in mind yet, dear?”
     “I do, Miss Holly.”
     “Then let’s grab a shopping cart and be about it.”

     Throughout the novel, transwoman co-protagonist Holly Martinowski speaks in an upper-class English idiom. Her lover is an emigrant from the Sceptered Isle. Their most important guest is a British nobleman: the Duke of Norfolk, which was at one time a very powerful military position that ranked the holder just below the royal family. But her conduct is American: when she sees something as a problem, she undertakes to solve it. As she tells Fountain in the above, she regrets her teenaged self’s departure from that standard sixteen years before: it wasn’t an American thing to do.

     Americans are a problem-solving people. Indeed, we’re the problem-solving people. We don’t always “get it right;” a glimpse at our political morass would be enough to tell you that. But we don’t sit around whining and lamenting. We act.

     To be an American worthy of the name, you must be predisposed to action. Even our “don’t try to help me with my miseries; I just want to talk them to death” women are more action-oriented than the women of other lands. I wrote Holly that way.

     Yes, she was born male. Yes, she elected to change her presentation to a feminine one. Even in that, you can see her American-ness: she acted to change a situation she found intolerable, rather than merely lamenting her condition. My backstory perspective on her incorporated that action-orientation. I saw it as the principal reason for her decision to return to America.

     Was Holly’s decision to change her presentation “the right course?” What does it matter? It was her course. As I’ve constructed her character, it improved her life. She’s not intended to represent all transwomen; she stands only for herself.

     And in this is expressed the core thesis of the novel, which my castigators have missed.

---

     If there’s a single, conclusive knock against the tide of illegal aliens swarming over our southern border, it’s that they are not Americans and have no intention of becoming Americans.

     No one who intends to fatten on the fruits of our welfare state has any “right” to enter this country. The odious Jorge Cardinal Bergoglio, a.k.a. Pope Francis – and I really wish he’d taken some other ecclesiastical name – should have that tattooed on his eyelids – the inside of his eyelids. He’s one of the reasons for my invention of Pope Clement XV. Clement embodies the attitude an American placed on the Throne of Saint Peter would bring to that job: identify the problem and solve it. That, of course, is why the Curia finds him difficult to cope with.

     If there’s a single, conclusive knock against the American welfare system, it’s that it imposes no obligations upon its beneficiaries:

• They are not required to work for what they receive.
• They are not required to engage in any kind of self-improvement.
• They are not required, should they ever become capable, to make restitution.

     Indeed, they’re not even required to be grateful...and most of them are not. But most damning of all, they’re not required even to contribute to the solution of their personal problems.

     It is in our welfare system that we’ve departed most destructively from our founding principles. For liberty, as George Bernard Shaw has told us, implies responsibility. (“That is why men dread it!”) Shaw, be it said, was a socialist, and no fan of individual freedom. Yet he pinned the matter more accurately than many an ardent libertarian. There’s a lesson in there.

     But this, too, shall pass away. Doesn’t everything?

---

     The Wise and the Mad was a great struggle to write. My distant friend Amy, who is a transwoman, helped by providing feedback as I pulled it together. It was vitally important help, in that it reassured me that my characters were acting in ways consistent with their construction and their respective backstories. As those backstories are threaded through several other novels and novelettes, it was a task that required awareness, discipline, and quite a lot of effort. I’m very grateful for it, which is why Amy’s name appears on the Dedications page.

     (Yes, I’m a tricky bastard. When I need help, I go to someone who has, or could be seen to have, a natural interest in whatever I need help with. But what else would you expect from a Certified Galactic Intellect, eh, hero? Besides, no one’s complained...yet.)

     Amy is clear-eyed about the downside of the transgender phenomenon, despite being a part of it. Those who are evangelizing for it among impressionable youngsters are doing great harm: intolerable harm. The harm done by evangelists for some “cause” is part of what I strove to delineate in the novel...and that, too, far too many readers have missed.

     At the conclusion of her efforts on my behalf, Amy wrote:

     In the end, I think I've got a good grasp on the message behind The Wise and the Mad. In the varieties of human experience, there are some that are commendable, some that, though seemingly distasteful, are in the end at least tolerable, and some that are utterly beyond the pale. But no one group or organization has the same perspective on these things. Many of them, like Inclusivity, are far too willing to overreact one way; others, like the pre-Clement Catholic Church, overreact in exactly the opposite way. Ambassador Kosh Naranek tells us, "Understanding is a three-edged sword." Those three edges are: your side, my side, and the truth. The truth always lies somewhere in between...and it's up to us to find it. And sometimes, when the truth is found, the hard part is convincing everyone to believe it.

     Indeed. Wherever there is public controversy, one can find at least some departure from objectivity. It becomes the task of an American to determine not only what the truth is, but also – and in my not-at-all-humble opinion, far more critically – what is tolerable and what is not.

     Lines are being drawn, just as William Blake has told us:

     “Wise men see outlines, and therefore draw them.” – From Songs of Innocence
     “Mad men see outlines, and therefore draw them.” – From Songs of Experience

     I’ve used that pair of seemingly opposed insights once before this:

     “A very smart man once said that imagination is more important than knowledge.” Redmond guided the truck out of the parking lot and onto NY 231. “It was an overstatement, and context-free to boot. Still, he had an important point in mind. He wasn’t the first to make it, either. What is an outline, Todd?”
     The conversational swerve jarred Todd into a curious state. His thoughts seemed to drift free of mundane reality. He struggled to discipline them.
     “The boundary around an object?”
     “Have you seen any outlines lately?”
     “Huh? I don’t...hm.”
     “In the world outside our heads.” Redmond piloted the truck smoothly down Kettle Knoll. “Did you see anything you could point to and say ‘there’s an outline,’ at any time recently?”
     “I don’t think so.”
     “And why is that? Every object has a boundary, so it must have an outline, right?”
     Todd was overwhelmed by the sense that he was being introduced to a higher realm of thought, a sphere of concepts and relations whose existence he hadn’t suspected.
     He’s way beyond me.
     He fought down his distaste at the admission.
     If I’m going to learn anything more from him, I have to accept it.
     “Outlines are imaginary, then?”
     Redmond pulled into the Iversons’ driveway, stopped, and set the parking brake. “Not quite. It depends on whether you’d say an image—a picture of the world you have in your brain—is imaginary. When we look at the world, we see...things. Objects we take to be bounded and separate from one another. Most of us view the world that way, most of the time. We have to. It makes organized thought possible. And it’s what moved a great writer to write that ‘wise men see outlines, and therefore draw them.’”
     “Who was that?”
     “William Blake. A poet of the late Enlightenment.” Redmond’s eyes twinkled. “He wrote something a bit different a few years later, though.”
     Todd waited.
     “‘Mad men see outlines, and therefore draw them.’”
     “Huh?”
     Redmond held up a hand for patience. “It was an important insight, centuries ahead of its time. Modern physics tells us that there are no absolute boundaries between things, that boundaries and outlines are only tools of thought.” The engineer’s smooth, solemn face seemed to acquire the weight of centuries. “They exist, whatever that means, only as long as we insist on them. And there are subjects where we can’t make any progress at all unless we refuse to see them.”

     Outlines matter because they qualify and condition our responses to what’s inside or outside them. The most important outlines of all are the ones we propose to separate what is tolerable from what is not. That deserves to be presented in a really big font:

Nearly every social problem can be solved by drawing the right outlines.

     That is the peculiar art at which Americans have historically excelled. We confront many venues for its employment today. Transwoman Holly Martinowski is tolerable, even if you think her choice irrational, because she asks nothing of others except to be allowed to go her own way in peace. The activists of Inclusivity are intolerable by virtue (?) of their diametrically opposite attitude and orientation. We must tolerate the former, even if condoning it is difficult or impossible, just as we must condemn and oppose the latter. It’s the American way.

     If I have any insight of greater importance to offer, I can’t imagine what it might be.

The Resilience Of America

     This might strike my Gentle Readers as something of a “one-off,” a piece deliberately set at odds with most of what I write. I must admit, it’s come upon me all unawares, and from what source I cannot be certain. I can tell you only a few things about the context in which it’s being generated:

• I’ve been in contact with a fellow blogger of equal lineage, about subjects of great import.
• I’ve been listening to Jeff Wayne’s War of the Worlds.
• My essential defiance has confronted the naysayers, raised its head, and bellowed “No! It shall not be!”
• And yes, I’ve been drinking.

     If you proceed hence, what you read might confuse you. I make no apology for that. Much of what I write requires more concentration than the typical reader is willing to give it and more erudition than the typical reader possesses...though in neither case does that apply to the Gentle Readers of Liberty’s Torch. What I’ll say in my own defense is that for the first time in decades I am hopeful. Even optimistic.

     And I shall tell you why.

---

     There’s a lot of political commentary here. That’s most of the reason for this site: I like to write about politics. But politics is not a primary of life. It’s very much a secondary consequence, something that arises and acquires importance from more fundamental sources. The primary considerations often demand that we ignore politics – that if we were to grant it the importance that the politicos demand, we would soon find that a decent life had become unavailable.

     Americans have long cherished a view of political institutions as servants: agents charged with providing us certain services, rather than masters to which we are obligated regardless of any contrary inclination. The Left, of course, and much of the Establishment Right dislike that premise; they would prefer that we concede our subjugation to the State, that we might be more efficiently “managed.”

     The 2016 election makes plain that a substantial fraction – probably a majority – of the people of this nation are unwilling to be managed. We defied the luminaries, the pundits, the bien-pensants, and in many cases our friends, relatives, and colleagues to elevate a Queens real-estate mogul to the highest executive office in the land...and it’s driving those aforementioned luminaries, pundits, bien-pensants, friends, relatives, and colleagues completely batshit.

     “How could they have done this?” they wail. “We thought they understood!”

     That’s their problem, you see. We did understand. We grasped, in sufficient numbers adequately distributed, what was being done to us. We decided we didn’t like it, wouldn’t have it, and reached for the sole available alternative. That alternative will be inaugurated this coming Friday.

     The thunderous denunciations that have followed our clearly declared choice have only intensified our resolve.

---

     I’ve said it before: I was dubious about the suitability of Donald Trump as president. Events subsequent to the election have greatly improved my peace of mind. But that’s the most superficial aspect of our current condition.

     I’m here to tell you a thing you might not be willing to believe. It’s pretty grandiose. Many members of the elite would piss on it from a great height. “Who is he to say such things?” they might write. I’ll tell them who I am: I’m brighter, more knowledgeable, and above all more moral and ethical than the lot of them. And I intend to jam their presumptions right up their supercilious asses.

     We are the inheritors of the Founding Fathers. We are the conservators of freedom.

     And we will defy the self-nominated “better sort” as it pleases us.

---

     We’ve endured quite a lot of chastisement – verbal, of course – from the “better sort.” They didn’t expect us to wave them aside. After all, we’d kowtowed to them regularly, even reliably, for decades. Their reaction to having been disregarded gives new meaning to the neologism butthurt.

     Their consternation is equaled by our glee. We were uncertain, you see. We feared that they would find some way to punish us for “going off the reservation.” But it hasn’t happened. All they’ve ever had is their supercilious attitude and their words, and that has at last been made plain.

     “You think politicians are important because the papers tell you so.” – Sir Fred Hoyle, The Black Cloud.

     That goes doubly for the hangers-on that have supported them with their oraculations.

     I sometimes wonder why anyone has ever heeded them. I wonder twice as intensely why I should have granted them the least amount of respect, when I could give the highest of them cards and spades and still make them look ridiculous.

---

     The rebellion has begun. The bien-pensants have lost all traction. The Punditocracy is paralyzed with fear, its future having been made uncertain beyond all prognostications. The politicians themselves? They have no idea what’s coming. But of one thing we may be certain:

     Their fate will be ours to determine.

     The Europeans have accepted their yokes and fetters meekly. They’re accustomed to thinking of themselves as subjects unworthy of the privilege of self-governance. Americans are of a different breed.

     Fisher Ames, of the Founding Fathers the most disdainful of the common men of America, coined the phrase “The people are a great beast.” That has been reversed: We, the “beasts” whom Fisher Ames and his inheritors despised, have remembered that we are a great people – and we shall not forget it.

     We have endured a century of creeping totalitarianism...and have opted to throw it off. We have been told that the process is irreversible...and have elected to reverse it. Our intellect and our sensibilities have been derided by the whole of the elite...and we have chosen to disregard them.

     We mean to take this country back, to make it once again the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave...and we will.

     Do your part.

Wounds

     “You've heard of animals chewing off a leg to escape a trap. There's an animal kind of trick. A human would remain in the trap and endure the pain, feigning death that he might kill the trapper and remove a threat to his kind.” – Frank Herbert, Dune

     “I couldn't have stood it even one more day. I would rather have died. The surgeon said I nearly did. But I was willing to kill, and I did, and if a faceful of scars is all the price I'll have to pay for my escape, I'm the luckiest woman on Earth.” – On Broken Wings

     I strongly disapprove of violence done to me. – Robert A. Heinlein, Glory Road

     Today is of course December 7, the 75th anniversary of Japan’s attack on the U.S. Pacific Fleet moored at Pearl Harbor. It was the largest blow ever struck at the United States in a time of war. it catalyzed the rise of the nation from “sleeping giant” to the power that for most of a century would bestride the world.

     A wound can do that. Wounds can do many other things as well.

     FDR’s “day that will live in infamy” might be the best known of the ringing phrases the attack inspired. My favorite, however, comes from Admiral William Halsey: “When this war is over, the Japanese language will be spoken only in hell.” We had been struck; we had an enemy willing to kill us to get what it wanted; it was incumbent upon us to gird our national loins, go to war, and force that enemy to its knees. And so we did.

     Pearl Harbor was a truly empowering wound, perhaps the greatest strategic mistake made by any nation in the recorded history of nations. It’s said that one Japanese figure of note was aware of it even as we reeled from the blow: “I fear we have awakened a sleeping giant and filled him with a terrible resolve.” (Japanese Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto)

     America in 1941 recognized the wound done to us as the action of an enemy, correctly identified the enemy, and chose war over surrender. The suffering we endured, ultimately and in true Nietzschean fashion, made us stronger. It was possible because Americans exhibited a clarity about the attack, its origin, and its implications. We haven’t often shown such clarity since then.

---

     Wounds may be partially categorized thus:

• Imagined;
• Self-inflicted;
• Inflicted by enemies.

     We could pass in silence over the first variety. It’s a species of mental illness; the suffering is as imaginary as the wound. Yet there are many who imagine that others have done them such wounds – indeed, who cherish and carefully nurture their resentment over them. Just now one doesn’t need to look far to find such persons; quite a gaggle of them have been “protesting” in our streets since just after Election Day.

     The second variety can be purely destructive, as in the case of persons addicted to cutting their own flesh. However, it can also be healing, even empowering. Pain has an imperative way about it; it focuses the mind on the present moment and its contents. When the pain results in improved health and strength, as is the case with the suffering that comes from exercise properly performed, it’s merely the precursor to a net gain to the sufferer.

     The third variety of wounds speaks in the loudest voice of all. He who has been wounded by an enemy should take notice, identify the enemy, and react against him. Not to do so is to accept damage and humiliation for no imaginable gain. Submission to the enemy often follows...and the wounds that follow from that can be truly terrible. Ask the former Eastern European members of the Warsaw Pact.

     Whence, then, comes the contemporary strain of thought, so common on the Left, that the proper response to an enemy’s blow is to placate or propitiate him?

---

     Seldom is an identified enemy your enemy alone. What he has done to you he might intend to do to others, if not even worse. To meekly accept the wound he has dealt you and placate him – to “perform the kowtow,” in a classic phrase – leaves him not only “ahead in the game” but encouraged to repeat his aggression, whether against you or another. To recognize this is clarity, as I noted in the opening segment.

     Yet for some years America has eschewed such clarity in favor of a propitiatory response to wounds dealt us: “Talk nice. We don’t want to make them mad.” That’s the institutional mindset that has taken hold in our State Department, roughly since the end of the Vietnam War. One of my older essays touches on this and the reasons for it.

     We’ve accepted wound after wound, humiliation after humiliation, to no benefit of ours. Why? Are we afraid? Do we reasonably fear what some lesser power might do to us? Or are our diplomatic mandarins terrified by the idea of what we might do to them?

     This has been the case even in dealing with allies – allies protected by American military power. American diplomats have urged all manner of cautions and appeasements of the political elites of European nations that have gutted their own militaries. Where’s the sense? They owe us! In several cases they literally owe us their existence! Yet we’ve acted all too frequently as if their willingness to allow us to protect them is somehow a favor to us!

     Pure, unadulterated madness. President-elect Donald Trump’s recent chat with the prime minister of Taiwan illustrates this vividly.

---

     The next few years could provide many a great surprise. I certainly hope so; the years immediately behind us have been drearily costly...drearily predictable. It’s imperative to reclaim the clarity with which Americans once reacted to a wound inflicted by an enemy with malice aforethought, whether by word or by deed:

     Remember Pearl Harbor. Remember the fallen.

A Credo For Our Time

     This comes from the worthy proprietor of A Nod To The Gods:

     I have had enough of hearing Obama say “This is not who we are as a nation”. I don’t get who the hell he is talking about.

     Letting perverts into a girls locker rooms and bathrooms is not who I am.
     Bringing in muslim refugees from around the globe without knowing who they are is not who I am.
     Letting illegal immigrants in by the millions across the southern border is not who I am.
     Providing free healthcare for people with no ambition while fleecing the people who do work to subsidize them is not who I am.
     Letting gender confused mentally ill people into the military and positions of power in the Pentagon is not who I am.
     Allowing alphabet agencies destroy business’s across the country in the name of global warming climate change is not who I am.
     Having the Vice President claim the American peoples support for Turkeys’ Erdogan is not who I am.
     Giving a terrorist country billions of dollars and nuclear capability is not who I am.
     Allowing a radical black activist cult into the White House is not who I am.
     Releasing terrorists back into the battlefield to kill more Americans is not who I am.
     Putting the country into debt more than every previous President combined is not who I am.
     Allowing militant minority groups to sue a business because of their beliefs is not who I am.

     I am a hard working, hard partying, divorced, remarried father of three that believes in less government, secure borders, and a moral code of conduct for a society that has devolved into chaos. I am God fearing man who thinks that welfare should have a sunset time frame, illegals are not allowed access to tax payer benefits, each state should be allowed to regulate themselves, gay people can be gay but not militant, minorities should be held to the same standards as everyone else and given no preferential treatment. Illegal immigrant criminals held in our jails and prisons should be returned to their homelands, and a very large wall should be constructed on our southern border.

     That is who I am. Not everyone believes the way I do which is fine, I have never claimed that what I believe is what we are as a nation, that would be foolish.

     So before you talk for me and my fellow Americans remember at least half of us are nothing like you. A majority of Americans were not part of a choom gang, are not closet muslims, did not get special access to college, did not start a grievance business as a community organizer, did not gain affirmative action access to the senate, and did not become POTUS due to the color of their skin. So before you say “It’s not who we are” remember we are nothing like you and never will be….so shut the fuck up about “Who We Are” because you have no idea.

     BRAVO!!