Accountability

 Odd thought of the day:

In our state, the group that brays the loudest about how "gubmint" should be run like a "bidness" share a common trait, other than being elected officials of state government. No, the trait is that if government shared the same strictures and liabilities as private corporations, many of those most adamant about how it should be run would be in federal court defending themselves of charges of fraud. 

Actually, taking the dilemma of Covid-19 into account, the charges might be more severe. 

Fun

What an oddity. On a day that should be spent in solitude, reflecting upon both honoring fallen heroes and the safety of the human race, the beaches and parks will be filled with frolickers unwilling to spend even this day reflecting upon either honor or safety.

Oh, they will unfurl their dusty flags and attach their store-bought pins and other paraphernalia, They  may even post a patriotic cliche before they head out to enjoy life. Our patriotism seems to be stronger with those who have never had it tested.

And they will promise faithfully to hate those whom they blame for the global pandemic and any pain and loss it may have caused them. The truth or facts behind that hate are less important than the tribal source from which it sprang.

Out, far from the partygoers, lie countless white headstones marking the resting place of those who gave all of their tomorrows so we could have this day. Beyond those lie other grave sites filled with families who tasted full well the bitter dregs of loss and sacrifice. Their grandchildren and their grandchildren will countenance neither, not even today. Some mock and revile those who do.

Beneath almost each white headstone lies one who would follow the orders and examples of their leaders into smoke, fire, and death. The judgement of just wars and unjust wars may have never entered their thoughts. They followed their leaders to their “gory beds” for their comrades first, their families next, and then their country.

Sadly, the streets, underpasses, and forests house many of the living dead, still unable to shed the horror of sacrifice and its lasting effects.

Our leader will likely play golf today. We each choose the path to follow in this life.

Stranger Danger

Lots of comments on yesterday’s post. Seems a lot of people are getting tired of seeing posts to the effect that Dr. Fauci and Barack Obama have teamed up with a group in Iran to spread a false narrative about there being a virus in America.

Are people really that misguided?

Yes.

How does it happen? I read once that the reason we see images in clouds is that our brains are programmed to form images from visual data. Maybe it’s the same with other mental data. Are we programmed to form conspiracies, with a little urging from TV personalities, that satisfy some genetic trigger? They say we even have a trigger that warns us when we feel safe that danger may lurk behind any door or tree. That was probably helpful on the savanna where a creature that felt safe was most likely the next meal. Maybe if we could figure a way to keep people in permanent fear, we could control their behavior. Say we could generate a constant stream of made-up dangers. We might even present genuine concern over real danger as a danger itself.

Imagine Olog telling Snork to pay no attention to that lioness coming their way. “It’s just an image created by the Samboolie Tribe’s medicine man wanting us to give up this territory that the Turtle God gave us. Relax. All is well. Obey our leader. Stay put and fight. The Samboolies wait in ambush. To flee would pose great danger.”

Keep them scared of their neighbors and not the lioness. If only there were a way.

Anyway, it was nice to go ahead and pull the trigger yesterday. Sorry for the firearms imagery. I meant that I hit the “unfriend” button. This action occurred from a post by someone I guess I knew in high school. Mostly, this person posts religious homilies about loving the Savior sprinkled with memes suggesting that Dr. Fauci is at best a Muslim or worse and more likely a minion of The Dark One himself.

Anyway, the meme suggested that worldwide outrage had erupted because Hillary Clinton had called the armed thugs who have been invading state capitols “terrorists.” I prefer thugs myself, but in this case, I simply commented “What would you call them?” Then I hit the button.

Boy, did it feel good. I’m going to do it again today.

Farewells

The Great Unfriending: Yesterday did it for me. On that blessed day of rest, reflection, repose, and, for many. religion, things happened as usual. Friends, some I’ve known since Lakeside grade school in Pine Bluff, Arkansas, continued to post the most scurrilous, venomous, and divisive posts imaginable for all to see on Facebook. I grew weary of it at last.

Some bore false witness against innocent and honorable people. Dr. Anthony Fauci seems to be a favorite target these days, along with President Barack Obama and his family. They have replaced as targets, for the time being at least, shipmates John Kerry and John McCain, men of honor. Sometimes, I wonder if those of certain political persuasions are still capable of shame.

I don’t fault you for adhering to a different political philosophy than mine. People read history, study facts, and draw conclusions differently. Such differences can keep a nation balanced. What I plan to eliminate from view are those who attack the basic human fundamentals of anyone to whom they are directed by people and organizations that I don’t believe have my country’s best interests at heart.

Disagree with my conclusions, or as Sheriff Marge Gunderson called them, “police work.” But I cannot abide you calling Dr. Fauci a disciple of a devil. I cannot abide you calling Michelle Obama or her daughters, “monkeys.” I cannot abide you posting Russian memes claiming that a political party, one that has initiated the safety nets that have protected “the least of those among us” for over 80 years, created a world-wide crisis aimed at destroying America. I cannot abide social media posts designed for no other purpose than to divide us as a nation.

My god, some of you claim to be preachers of the Galilean’s teachings. When did you cross that line onto the wrong side of history?

I realize I cannot change the minds or attitudes of those who support a political movement that would mock the disabled, imprison the innocent refugee, sport the Nazi flag, laud domestic terrorists, or deprive innocent citizens, some who have served their country as I did, the ability to vote in elections. I won’t try to change minds. I won’t, however, allow poison to invade mine. It drives up my blood pressure.

The oath I took more than 50 years ago bade me to “… defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic:” It contained no expiration date. I’m sorry but those armed thugs who are invading our state capitols are included in that charge. So are the two men, an Australian and a Saudi who own most of the network spewing lies and anti-American dissension 24 hours per day.

It’s not that I hate, or even dislike you. I love you, in fact. I know for that many of you have good qualities. Neither do I absolve myself of weaknesses. Had I devoted large segments of my life to watching the Fox show, who knows but what my mind might have left the world of reason and respect.

Neither do I condemn you. We are, despite our differences, all Americans and we are all in this together. We will remain so. We have no choice. I simply will not allow the poison you post to cause me further anxiety. I, in turn, will edit my posts more carefully. I wish you the best, and I would love to remain aware of your hopes and dreams. Unfortunately, it can’t be so. I hope for the best in our country, but I increasingly fear the worst, and I choose not to be a part of it. As Woody Guthrie said, “So long, it’s been good to know you.”

Taunts

Sickening. That’s how I feel about the misguided citizens and thugs showing up at state capitols, some with weapons, some reportedly paid to participate, all oblivious to the lessons of history. The most nauseating sight is of a person carrying as sign reading "Arbeit Macht Frei." For those who don’t know, and there are an alarmingly high number who don’t, this was a favorite slogan of the Nazis who ran Germany in the 1930s and 1940s. It literally means “work sets you free.” It appeared first, I believe, at the jourhasuaz, or entrance to Dachau concentration camp near Munich. That one started as a place of containment for political and other prisoners. It later housed Jews and other "enemies of the Reich."

Eventually, 40,000 people died there. I don’t think the person carrying the sign knows that.

The sign at Dachau was copied by other camps, most famously at the  Auschwitz-Birkenau concentration camps, and has become a symbol of the cruel taunting of people so debased that they would exterminate those whom they consider "lazy and egotistical" faul und selbstsüchtig. For the person in the picture, that apparently includes the elderly.

A little quiz for the few who may think these Koch-funded terrorist are simply protesters. Want to guess which ones below understand the true intent behind the Nazi term "Arbeit Macht Frei?" Oh, and by the way, the governor of the state where this “thing” is protesting is Jewish.

That is what America has become for some. I don’t know whether to puke or burn my Honorable Discharge.

Motivation

I don’t understand. But yeah, I do. There’s a rationale behind our president’s behavior. Twisted? Yes. Ugly? Yes. Unpatriotic? Yes. Un-Christian. Yes. Effective? We’ll see.

Take last week, for example. The stock market took a breather from its plummet, stabilized, and rose a little. There was much oohing and aahing.

What did our president do?

He announced plans to apply additional tariffs against China. Seems they started the Covid-19 Virus in a lab and sent it here to hurt his, the president’s, reputation, standing, and re-election chances. Let’s beat them up for it with tariffs. I know. I know. It’s lunacy, reminiscent of the scene from the movie Blazing Saddles where the new sheriff thwarted the angry crowd by threatening to “Shoot the …” Well, you remember. We also remember one of the more famous quotes from my generation’s war, “It became necessary to destroy the [village] to save it.” So the prez threatened to start another trade war right in the middle of a global epidemic in order to save us.

What did the market do?

Plummeted. There was much gasping and wonderment.

Here’s the deal. Somewhere along the line, the president and his followers discovered the power of hate. The idea probably grew from the success of the so-called “Southern Strategy.” It’s like this: Haters gotta hate. It doesn’t always matter whom or what they hate. It may be minorities. It may be immigrants. Hell, it may even be the idea of health care for everyone. It’s hate that is the sine qua non. That’s all you need to control the crowd.

Hate gets them moving toward a goal, gets them going. It may be to the state capitol with rifles strapped in front of them for maximum show. It may be to sit in front of the Fox channel to get a fresh infusion of rage. It may be to the streets in an effort to scare people.

Heaven help us if it is ever to the town square with their “penis-elongating” rifles, this time in their brown uniforms, hats, and faux military insignia to complete they fantasy.

Yep, it’s hate. Get people hating hard enough and all you have to do is provide the object of the hate and yell, in Southern parlance, “Sic ‘em.”

The hate is what makes their system work. The objects of the hate are interchangeable. Right now, they’ve decided that it’s China. Look for it to focus here in America as November approaches. Sadly, many of us see lots of target groups ahead of us and figure we’ll be okay as long as the trains run on … uh … as long as the barber shops stay open. Indifference is a major catalyst for hate.

I guess it’s time for each of us to start figuring out how far we are down on the list.

Funny in a movie.
Hell of a way to run a country.

Helping Capitalism

Woke up this morning with an angel from the Dark Side in my ear. “Look,” it said, “You once put yourself in mortal danger for the sake of big corporations like MacDonnell Douglas, Lockheed, United Technologies, Boeing, General Electric, Remington, and a slew of others.”

“To my eternal shame,” I said.

“General Dynamics,” it said. “Remember them?”

“Didn’t they make those planes that kept crashing?”

“Never mind,” it said. “The Boss is proud of you. You helped those corporations by going in harm’s way, right? Kept the economy going?"

“To my everlasting shame,” I said. Was that the second time I answered with that? I couldn’t remember.

“But now,” it said, “you won’t even go out and help your friends at the Mexican restaurant. Are you saying you did it for General Dynamics but you won’t do if for Jesús?”

He kinda had me there. I was still groggy and couldn’t quite think straight. “Go to hell,” I offered in way of debate.

“Can’t,” he said.

“And why not?” I was eager to change the subject and gain some time to think.

“Remodeling going on down there.”

“Say what?”

“His Excellency is expecting a big influx. We’re going to be, as someone close to you said, ‘busting at the seams’ in a short while.”

“Say what?” I had him completely distracted now.

“Haven’t you noticed people in high places who are refusing to wear masks?”

“Ahh.”

“But you need to go out and do your part.”

“I’ll do that the day Jesús starts producing fighter planes,” I said.

That left him scratching his horns.

Brainstorming

Bill O’Reilly had the answer: "Many people who are dying . . . were on their last legs anyway," the disgraced former Fox host told Sean Hannity, himself pretty much as disgrace to the human race. They were discussing the Covid 19 crisis and how to sacrifice the elderly to allow their conservative friends to get back in action.

“Guess that’s one way of doing it,” said the gardener while watching two praying mantises making love.

Know what it reminds me of though? Way back in the 1980s, the countries of Iran and Iraq were locked in a bitter war. As an aside, if I remember correctly, the Reagan Administration was aiding and supporting both sides. It’s a wonder it didn’t make those folks hate us.

Anyway, finding heavy minefields between the opposing armies, the Iranians developed a model scheme. They told young kids and their parents that the youth would to straight to Paradise if they would only charge across “no man’s land” to clear paths for the attacking troops.

So we could let the elderly go. They require a lot of care and don’t offer much in return. Here’s one reason, among others, why I don’t like the idea. Click here.

One wonders whether if the virus was particularly deadly to the young, our country’s current leaders might think of a way to use the kids effectively, say by ordering the re-opening of the schools or beaches.

Oh wait …

Unleashing the Monster

Maybe we all need to pay closer attention to things. Oh, and maybe we need to calm down in the process. Donald Trump is playing us all “like a rusty squeezebox.” I say “us,” and I mean it, but the press in particular is falling for his ploy like kids chasing the Pied Piper. Myself, I don’t think he is saying these dreadfully bizarre things because he is dumb or crazy, be those as they may. I think he is saying them simply to make us angry, angry enough to hate whomever. It’s an old pro-wrestling trick, and we’re falling for it.

Angry people are malleable people. Ask the Germans. Ask the Rwandans. Ask the James Jonesians. Ask the Branch Davidians. Anger is a passion, not a calculated conclusion.

If Donald Trump can generate the passion, i.e. the anger, the Fox show, the meme generators, social media, and the Russian trolls can produce the objects for that passion. Leading up to the 2016 election, it was Hillary Clinton, the Obama Family, Nancy Pelosi, and the Democratic National Committee. You remember it. That’s the group that had the unmitigated audacity to prefer a member of the Democratic Party as its presidential nominee. That highly publicized predilection and the directed anger it produced convinced a group to sit out the normal processes of a free democracy. The results of that non-participation are apparent now, if we take the time to look beyond the daily news cycle.

It’s happening all over again. Work folks into a rabid frenzy and they’ll go anywhere you want them to. Targets change. Passions don’t. Prior to both World War One and World War Two, many parents were angry, and the object of that anger was the idea of their young sons being sent to die in a European War that seemed to them simply to be the latest production of a never-ending play. Young men directed their anger toward the draft and a military that would interrupt their jobs and dating schedules. Young women were angry that their lives would change for the worse.

It only took persuasive, but manipulative, politicians, a willing press, and (in the case of WW II) a few Frank Capra films to redirect that anger toward Germany. Then, due to an unmitigated act of stupidity (one that included one sovereign nation’s attacking another sovereign nation that had never done it harm, hmmm), that re-directed anger gained a dreadful and terrifying legitimacy. Justified? Of course it was, but justification doesn’t produce action. Ask our African-American brothers and sisters.

So, my fellow Americans. We don’t need to be angry. We need to be afraid. Very afraid. And we need to be aware, very aware. Most of all, we need to be resolved. Very resolved.

Darkness

In the world’s greatest gallery of sinners, I’ve always held my own. I doubt if I’ve ever been used as a role model. Friends tell stories about me around campfires. My relatives call me an anarchist and won’t let their kids come near me. The word “potential” never appears in a sentence about me without the ubiquitous “squandered.” Through it all, I pressed on, hoping for some ray of hope, as William Faulkner said of Boon Hogganbeck from The Reivers. “No epoch of history nor generation of human beings either ever was or is or will be big enough to hold the un-virtue of any given moment, any more than they could contain all the air of any given moment; all they can do is hope to be as little soiled as possible during their passage through it."

I persevered, and I think I changed some for the better. My attitudes changed on numerous topics.  For example, I entered the United States Navy with a churning belly full of resentment. Now, I wouldn’t take a million dollars for those four years. In other ways as well, I have altered my attitudes. I’ve even learned to like English Peas and poetry.

A friend once said of me, “I love you for you don’t have a 24-hour and attitude about anything.” But I think he was wrong.

Now that I’ve offered my mea culpas, let me argue that I don’t think the “better angels of my nature” have changed over the years, and, if they have, the direction was for the good of humanity. When I was a teenager, I believed in the equality and sanctity all races and backgrounds of people. I still do. When a college student, I came to believe that The Sermon on the Mount was a sublime piece of literature and righteous guidance. I still do. I believe in honesty, good government, striving to help others, truth in advertising, not trusting Russia, and the paramount superiority of turnip greens and cornbread over escargots or kidney pie.

I did flirt with a wee bout of conservatism once when I became seduced into believing it would further my career. Mike Huckabee cured that when he threatened to close migrant worker center in south Arkansas. For those who should have been paying attention, that was a preview of things to come. The road to Hell is not one hidden long from view.

Anyway, about this idea of core beliefs. I see examples of change for the worse every day in friends I have known for years, some for a lifetime. These are folks I once knew to be kind, generous, and caring people. Or they seemed to be. Now, it seems as if a dark cloud settled upon them. They post bad things about good people on social media, and good things about bad people. Something or someone seems to have stolen their sense of righteousness. There is no example of avarice and mendacity for which they cannot find praise if the offeror claims the right political initial after his or her name.

These are not the people I once knew. Or, are they? I don’t know. Dark monsters hide deep within us are monumentally patient. Something rose in my friends, and it isn’t pretty.

They appear, from all aspects to worship a serial divorcee, liar, swindler, adulterer, cheat, and hatemonger. They even boast that the possibility of upsetting me about it is funny.

I’m bemused. The Galilean must be nauseated.

That’s the darkest irony involved. Many, if not most of whom I speak, claim to be Christians. Not Galilean ones, mind you, but followers of the part of the old and new books of faith that espouse despising gays and supporting slavery. Some even claim to be preachers of the Christian faith. Their only core belief lies in the topic of abortion. They want it to be criminalized, but it eludes them that a heavy concentration on sex education, availability of contraception, elimination of poverty, and male accountability would be much more effective (and good for the country) than electing political scoundrels who pretend to be on their side.

Yes, they attend, or lead, services on Sunday mornings and then spend the afternoon on Facebook bearing false witness against Hillary Clinton, Nancy Pelosi, Barack Obama (and his wife), Jimmy Carter, and others.

Something changed them. Maybe the aliens who pick through our smoldering remains will figure it out.

The Tragic Stretch

Sometimes I think of American decency as a rubber band. That is to say that once it is stretched to the limit, it may never go back to its original shape. And sometimes it might not go back to any recognizable shape.

At other, more positive times, I think of our more decent moral foundations as rocks along a wild seashore. Flood tides may cover them, but comes the ebb and they break the surface and stand again in all their strength and glory.

For example. It was my luck to have served in the United States Navy during the high tide of disdain for the military. Having lived through it, I figured, at the time, that it was a permanent trend. No, the tide receded following America’s withdrawal from Vietnam and a long period of respect has followed. Of course, feelings come easy when, for more than 99 percent of Americans, serving your country during war or peace is merely a vague and fuzzy abstraction. It is something that other people and other people’s children do for us.

The point is that our perspectives and attitudes seem to change with time, or do they? I think it was Thomas Hobbes who said, “Our passions don’t change. Only the objects of our passions change.” If this is true, does it mean that our passions are consistent, but guide us toward changing goals? That may have some kinship with the beliefs of William James, the so-called “Father of American psychology.” He was reported to have said, “We don’t sing because we’re happy. We’re happy because we sing.”

This makes me tend more toward the rubber-band theory of moral and ethical behavior. America, it seems to me, is governed at this time by a large group (actually a modest but consistent percentage) of political scoundrels led by a man without a shred of social decency, moral compassion, or ethical underpinnings. Has he stretched our sense of propriety to the point from which it may never return? I fear so.

In the 1950s and 1950s, we discriminated against minorities and women, blew up recruiting centers, assassinated our leaders, destroyed legally constituted political conventions, bombed countries that had never made a threatening gesture toward America, illegally sold arms to a country that had, and murdered college students, among other disdainful acts.

These seemed, in most cases, to have sparked some sense of moral outrage. That had begun to create positive change. Then a likeable old presidential contender chose to announce his candidacy in the southern city where four civil rights workers have been murdered by racist thugs. The message was tragically clear: “Hey, vote for me. I hate the same people you do.”

Out passions—our ugliest passions—perhaps did not change as much as they were legitimatized. We didn’t change immediately. But our moral high-water mark was the election of an African-American president. Passions that stank like rotten garbage rose like Sci Fi monsters of the Cold War films. That led us to the current situation.

Where is the moral outrage this time? It’s there. Those passions for morality, ethical behavior, compassion, peace, love, and harmony are there. It just seems that the power junta has figured out new methods of neutralizing our outrage. They have done it and continue to do it. Our band of righteousness is being stretched beyond its limits by greed, avarice, misogyny, bigotry, and an unquenchable thirst for power.

I question whether we can snap back from it this time.

Approbatio silentium

A poet once predicted:

“This is the way the world ends

This is the way the world ends

This is the way the world ends

Not with a bang but a whimper.”

Watching the rabid crowd of fake protesters, rounded up by supporters of, and possibly by members of, the current administration, one wonders. The participants weren’t whimpering. It was more like drooling snarls, the type of behavior our parents warned us to look for when we suspected a dog was mad from rabies.

Where do they find these people? I suspect it isn’t hard. If one publishes a list of those they hate, I can see hordes of like-minded people joining them. No, it’s not a good way to select friends. It is a good way, however, to form a mob. These individuals represent the most heinous forms of cognitive malfunction. To please the rich and powerful, they are willing to subject each other, and their own families, to destruction.

A Latin phrase comes to mind: “Acta est fabula plaudit.” It means roughly “The play has been performed; applaud!” It was a common ending to ancient Roman comedies that let the audience know that the play had ended. Suetonius in “The Twelve Caesars” claimed it to have influenced Augustus' last words. They have gone down in History as “Have I played the part well? Then applaud as I exit.”

I can only trust that the actions of the imbeciles I saw on TV and in the newspapers this weekend don’t spawn, for America: Acta est fabula plaudit. Can we yet save her? I just don’t know.

Erasmus, we are told, said “In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king.” That, if true, would offer hope that, in a land of the morally blind, a person with half a brain could prevail. A story I read in high school, however, disputed Erasmus. A sighted man showed up in “the land of the blind.” Low and behold, he not only didn’t prevail, he was judged disabled by the inhabitants and sentenced, in order to be a worthy citizen, to be blinded. I worry that the members of the mobs I saw, have brown uniforms at home and are waiting for the call to meet, while we remain complacent.

Their actions could not win if faced with organized resistance. Most are probably cowards, unmanageable anarchists, and dependent upon monetary compensation for their outrage. Their actions could prevail, however, against indifference. 

That’s why I’ve created a new slogan for these musings. It is from Latin as well and would read, “approbatio silentium.” I hope that translates into “Silence is approval.” Maybe Erasmus would agree.

The Great Hoisting

For years I’ve whistled by and haven’t stopped to consider the phrase “hoisted by one's own petard.” I knew it was from Shakespeare, Hamlet I thought. I somehow made the assumption that it was a bit naughty in origin, and maybe I didn’t want a complete examination. Then, for some reason, I got to thinking about the Baby Boomers. That led me finally to learn the meaning of the phrase, for I think it describes their current predicament.

Oh, and the meaning: The petard, it seems, has long since fallen out of use, but was a small engine of war used to blow breaches in gates or walls. They were originally metallic and bell-shaped but later cubical wooden boxes. They were full of gunpowder, i.e. bombs.

The phrase means to be blown up with your own bomb. How does it apply to a population cohort?

The Baby Boomers have always been a little quixotic. Statistically, they, as measurable cohort, supported the Vietnam War. Statistically, as a measurable cohort, they did not support participating in the Vietnam War. They are, somewhat unduly, credited with stopping the war. Actually, the Viet Cong and NVA had something to do with it. Trust me. In fact, the opinion of a whole slew of Baby Boomers concerning war seems to have solidified in favor of the darned things since Jan. 27, 1973.

Fast forward to the present. The cohort appears to have taken a hard course toward conservatism. Republicans they are to a large degree, as Yoda would say. Their attitude seems to be what we call the Clarence Thomas Syndrome: “I’ve got mine. Ya’ll bite me.”

Now comes the hoisting. Having helped elect Donald Trump get elected, and having watched their investments, to a significant degree donated by their parents, soar for ten years or so, the Baby Boomers leaned back from warm rooms on full stomachs, turned on the Fox show, and prepared for the comfortable descent into Valhalla. Young people were discounted as being stupid cell phone addicts. Progressives just wanted their hands on someone’s money to build bridges and sewer plants the “Boomers” no longer cared much about. Worse still, they wanted to hire teachers by raising taxes. Minorities should have never come to America in the first place. Science was as useless now as it was in high school. Life was good.

Then came Covid 19. It was a nuisance. It amounted to nothing but a hoax, their hero Sean Hannity told their other great hero. It would pass soon. Laissez les bons temps rouler. The virus will pass quickly. Prez said it would.

Well, lo and behold, it didn’t. Worse Sean is telling “The Prez” that he must now open the economy up, i.e. quit all this non-participation nonsense. Profits are falling and that is a real crisis. Let's all go out and party on.

Oh, there would be some problems. A lot of people would die in the process.

No problem. It would be the old folks. You know … Baby Boomers who didn’t have a safe place to hide or respirators to see them through. They’ve had their day in the sun. Now it’s time for their day in the barrel.

That’s what it means to hoist yourself by your own petard.

January 27, 1973? That’s when the military draft ended. You know. Baby Boomer Day.

Duty

Anyone reading the news today must be concerned. Groups of thugs are descending on state capitols that have Democratic governors and are demanding that the Covid 19 protections end. Members supposedly include neo-Nazis and other anarchists. The president of the United States of America is encouraging them to follow their worst instincts.

One thing, among many, scares me about these people. It is that it would only take a message from the Russian trolls, or someone they follow, to: "Grab your gun, put on your brown uniform, and meet us in the town square" for the America I served for four years to be at risk.

One thing, among many, dismays me. That is that people I’ve known and loved for years, some for most of my life, and some with post-secondary educations would, it appears from their FB posts, join the thugs. I don’t know what makes these people so mad. I know many of them to have been decent, loyal Americans for most of their lives. Somewhere, the Dark Side prevailed. The transformation started years ago, but seems to have taken on unprecedented strength in early 2009.

One thing, among many, nauseates me. I have seen many things in my long life, but I’ve never seen the president of the United States of America spew venom and incite resurrection toward states not governed by his political party. It is worse still for a president to include tirades about gun ownership in his exhortations. Even Dick Cheney didn’t stoop this low during his eight years as president.

I worry. I’m old enough to last out a normal life, so why speak out and risk my reputation and standing? It’s just that when I saw the blue waters of the South China Sea out the window of that eastbound airline, I could never have imagined an America like this. I never imagined an America that was run like a pro wrestling show. I never imagined that someone close to me who lives with a disability would suffer mocking and disrespect from a candidate for president of my country. I never could have imagined a president who sides with dictators and criminals over decent Americans. I am worried and nauseated in equal shares.

Silence translates to some as approval. I will speak out when I feel it is necessary, even if it is futile. I’m sorry if I offend anyone, but I will violate the oath I took in 1966, for which there is no
Statute of Limitations, if I don’t take a stand.

No, on second thought I’m not sorry. It’s time, actually past time, for us to make our voices heard concerning this insanity.