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So I posted this, took a nice sip of water, answered an email, then went to my blog stats. Within the short amount of time it took to do that I had QUITE A FEW hits simply because that post had “FEMA Prison” in the title.
To all you who clicked on my site. MUWAHAHAHAHAHA! You’ve fallen for it! I’ve been contracted by .gov to pass your info to the NWO! You should get a visit from Big Brother very soon.
Are those black helicopters? *thumpathumpathumpathumpa*
<whinge>
If I could just have one more thing to stress about today I might just be able to push my BP over the “HOLY SPIT!” threshold and into the “DIAL 911!” range. Please God, just one more thing could go wrong today. Just one? I mean, really!
I’ve been good! Why the hell have you sicked Karma’s Ass Biter Brigade on me today? Am I paying in advance for something covered with copious amounts of Awesome Sauce? Should I buy a Lotto Ticket? Should I put in the paperwork for that Sound Suppressor to the Houston CLEO???? I mean with the feces river undertow I’m trying to swim against today; you’d think I could have saved up enough credit to become the man-god of a small 3rd World country!
Seriously, STOP IT! I’m not as strong as you evidently think I am. REALLY! STOP! My wack-a-doodle switch has a 5 pound pull on it and you’ve just hit 4 and 7/8th. Enough. Don’t you have mean people in DC and LA to jack with? Why can’t you make Barry have a toothache or maybe serve him warm gazpacho soup? I’m sure some porn king pin in LALA land has some unfortunate test results to get back from the doctor? Someone else. PLEASE!
</whinge>
Tam, Breda, and Bridig have all admitted to various forms of blue funk recently. I must admit… I am in one as well. You can’t move two feet in any one direction without hitting something that makes you just want to scream at its stupidity, injustice, or both.
We are pinned down by enemy fire. Some of us DEEP behind enemy lines. They have the air superiority, the artillery on the hills, and the key strategic positions from which to launch assault after assault after assault on us daily. They know the only way they can win is to demoralize us and cut us off from our comrades. To make us think we are the lone outpost of sanity in the world. To make us lose heart. We need to have courage.
Courage is almost a contradiction in terms. It means a strong desire to live taking the form of a readiness to die. “He that will lose his life, the same shall save it,” is not a piece of mysticism for saints and heroes. It is a piece of everyday advice for sailors or mountaineers. It might be printed in an Alpine guide or a drill book. This paradox is the whole principle of courage; even of quite earthly or quite brutal courage. A man cut off by the sea may save his life if he will risk it on the precipice.
He can only get away from death by continually stepping within an inch of it. A soldier surrounded by enemies, if he is to cut his way out, needs to combine a strong desire for living with a strange carelessness about dying. He must not merely cling to life, for then he will be a coward, and will not escape. He must not merely wait for death, for then he will be a suicide, and will not escape. He must seek his life in a spirit of furious indifference to it; he must desire life like water and yet drink death like wine.
G. K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy
I love the final parts of that quote, “…he must desire life like water and yet drink death like wine.” I get Cat 5 Chills every time I read it. It makes me ready to do battle on all fronts… at once… with only a sharp stick and a blood-curdling yell.
But like Bridid reminds us, we need some time away from the front as well. You can’t keep getting shot at all day and not get… blue. This is the time to remember friends and family. Nature and skylines. Great works of art and tiny miracles of life. But most of all; that there’s more to life than life itself.
The manner in which we conduct our lives… the courage that we show in the face of evil is what matters. Not what the current score on the board is. Because truth be told, we are always losing. Truth is always under assault. It has been since the first lie dominated Man’s heart with a lust for power. But as long as “we few, we happy few,” hang in and fight for what is just, we can never loose in the end. Even if the only earthly evidence of our bravery is a few words uttered to a friend in need… Call it History, call it something transcendent, or call it God; whatever “IT” is, it sees those words and marks us as worthy. Not because we fought and won, but because we fought at all.
So when the enemy’s lies have covered your soul with darkness, take heart. And take “5”. Go kiss your loved ones. Revel in that look of tenderness from your wife. Make the guitar rock and the harmonica wail. Immerse your soul in the things that really matter. Not just the things worth fighting for, but the things worth living and dieing for.
Dun da dah daaah. Dun da daaaah. Dun da d d daaaah. Dun da dah daah daaah.
Sorry. I needed a light hearted post right now.
Actually, I’m going to say precious few words about Mr. Jackson. He got very little rest here on this plane; hopefully he gets some on the next. I’ll leave the discussions about his talent (for music and getting into bad situations) to others who really care. I was never a big fan as I firmly believe, with the exception of a few anomalies, the production of good music began to taper to a trickle sometime in the late 1940’s.
The focus of this post is the Legacy Media. You pathetic bunch of jackals; every damn one of you. You take such delight in building up your herd of media sweethearts. Tending them with such sycophantic care. Measuring the potential meat yield daily. Until that one day when you shepherd one poor old heifer in to be slaughtered mercilessly in your 24 hour news abattoir, hacking and tearing at the bones. Like some sad ancient mythological fertility ritual, you let your stags make hay for a while only to run them to ground when your need for blood drives you to rip apart your creation.
But then, later when the weary eyes of your sacrificial freak show finally close on this world, you scream, “TRAGEDY! A WORLD IN MOURNING!” With practiced and polished sincerity in your voices you chant on and on about how they were the greatest and best and most beloved… and, oh yes, they had some problems that you were loath to talk about back in the day, but bygones, the world can never be the same now. Shame on all of you.
If you really cared so damn much, where were you when the world was crashing down on them and any fool could see they needed help? Why didn’t you intervene to give them some time to catch their breath? How come the cameras never stopped their flashes and the tape didn’t stop rolling? Don’t start talking about journalistic integrity and the, “Public’s right to know.” Don’t try to white wash your actions as a, “Disinterested third party who simply reports the facts.”* Don’t help rip the wings off a fly then act so sad when it finally up and dies.
I hope, before your final breath, you atone for you inhumanity. If not, I’m sure there’s a special place in Hades where even Judas gets to laugh at you.
I was trying to leave this as a comment on Tam’s blog for this post. But Blogger wouldn’t let me. So I’ll do it here and link to Tam instead.
I KNOW! Let’s tell Ahmadi-Nejad that Kim Jong Il is behind this because he wants to win the 2009 “Doesn’t Work and Play Well With others” award.
In Kimmie’s eyes, there can be only one full goose bozo world leader so full of himself he’d rather see his country burn down in flames than admit he’s wrong. And Kim wants that title.
Watch out Obama, Kim may have you in his sights too.
This could work. They are both so whack-a-doodle paranoid that we may just be able to pull this off by int3rw3bz meme alone.
I recently had a small, mostly inconsequential, medical procedure done that has left me at the mercy of Vicodin. I’ve done precious little writing since then as I’ve found that while I’m mostly physically capable, my snark circuits seems to be affected by opioids to the point where they fire off in ways that would get my mouth slapped by even then most neglectful mother or sit just there like an over fed mountain cat in the hot midday sun.
That said. I have to at lease, for the record, say my prayers are with those suffering in Iran. Hopes of freedom die not when those passionate about it are killed, but when those passions are drowned by fear or complacency. Here in the US, we seem to have chosen complacency as the manner by which we kill freedom. I pray the terrors brought to bear by tyrants don’t kill your passion for liberty.
Will this be us in a few years? Not that I think any US President would have the stupidity to not stand for election or be so overt in the use of dirty tricks to retain power. But… these people are fighting for SOME rights while we sell ours for House Tax Credits and Car Tax Credits. Will there be a time when we fight back? Will there ever be a time when we say, “Enough!” Will we have the courage, once disarmed, to stand toe to toe with jackbooted thugs?
*sigh* The answer that comes to mind does not please me. “Fat, Dumb, and Happy,” floating right into oblivion.
By way of Blackfork.
Posted in the comments for her pygmy jerboa post, Tam thows down a full boat of cute cuddwy wuddlyness.
Admiral Ackbar: “…Our cruisers can’t repel cuteness of that magnitude!”
The only thing I don’t have to complain about is some GI taking up space in my living room. I’ll let you know about the Civil Courts if someone ever owes more than $20 to me. ---If you didn’t get that one; sue your Civics or US History Teacher.
Dante's Inferno and Firing Range 