The Destruction of America

I will let this piece speak for itself.

Just riddle me this....What would you do if you were the devil?

This speech was broadcast by legendary ABC Radio commentator Paul Harvey on  April 3, 1965:

If I were the Devil . . . I mean, if I were the Prince of Darkness, I would of course, want to engulf the whole earth in darkness. 

I would have a third of its real estate and four-fifths of its population, but I would not be happy until I had seized the ripest apple on the tree, so I should set about however necessary to take over the United States. 

I would begin with a campaign of whispers. With the wisdom of a serpent, I would whisper to you as I whispered to Eve: “Do as you please.” “Do as you please.”   To the young, I would whisper, “The Bible is a myth.” I would convince them that man created God instead of the other way around. I would confide that what is bad is good, and what is good is “square”.  In the ears of the young marrieds, I would whisper that work is debasing, that cocktail parties are good for you. I would caution them not to be extreme in religion, in patriotism, in moral conduct. And the old, I would teach to pray. I would teach them to say after me: “Our Father, which art in Washington” . . .

If I were the devil, I’d educate authors in how to make lurid literature exciting so that anything else would appear dull an uninteresting. I’d threaten T.V. with dirtier movies and vice versa. 

And then, if I were the devil, I’d get organized. I’d infiltrate unions and urge more loafing and less work, because idle hands usually work for me. I’d peddle narcotics to whom I could. I’d sell alcohol to ladies and gentlemen of distinction. And I’d tranquilize the rest with pills. 

If I were the devil, I would encourage schools to refine young intellects but neglect to discipline emotions . . . let those run wild. I would designate an athiest to front for me before the highest courts in the land and I would get preachers to say “she’s right.” With flattery and promises of power, I could get the courts to rule what I construe as against God and in favor of pornography, and  thus, I would evict God from the courthouse, and then from the school house, and then from the houses of Congress and then, in His own churches I would substitute psychology for religion, and I would deify science because that way men would become smart enough to create super weapons but not wise enough to control them.

If I were Satan, I’d make the symbol of Easter an egg, and the symbol of Christmas, a bottle. 

If  I were the devil, I would take from those who have and I would give to those who wanted, until I had killed the incentive of the ambitious. And then, my police state would force everybody back to work. Then, I could separate families, putting children in uniform, women in coal mines, and objectors in slave camps. In other words, if I were Satan, I’d just keep on doing what he’s doing.

Paul Harvey, Good Day.

The Making of an American

I have been pondering what it means to be American.  From the time I could think in a cognitive fashion, I have been proud to be an American.  I knew in the core of my being that I lived in the greatest country on earth.  My countrymen where honorable and true and our leaders were fearless and just.  Americans were the "knights in shining armor" of two world wars and they conducted themselves in a manner befitting our princely nation.  My heart swelled with pride and thanksgiving knowing I was a child of the great United States.

What is it that I loved about my native country?  I loved that our citizens were fiercely independent.  I loved that we were willing to sacrifice personal comfort in order to do the right thing.  I loved that we were a country of principle and character.  I loved that we could make do with anything and thrive in any circumstance.  I loved that we would rather go without than burden someone else with our problems.  I loved the fact that we made a stand for right and hated wrong.  I loved the fact that we cared about our fellow man more than we cared about ourselves.  I loved the fact that we were more concerned with disciplining ourselves than policing everyone else.  I loved the fact that we rewarded achievement and punished evil.  I loved the fact that we were willing to work hard for what we wanted.  I loved the fact that we had the strength of character to succeed when the odds were against us.  I loved being an American.

I am still proud to be an American.  I still see the best in us.  But I see the worst too.  I see people who would rather take than give.  I see leaders who would rather be served than to serve.  I see good being called evil and evil being called good.  I see a people who have lost their dignity, willing to accept handouts rather than resolutely making their own way.  Americans are being replaced.  We are being replaced by impostors - haters of the American way.

It's not too late.  We can reclaim our heritage - our country.  It starts with you.  It starts with me.  It starts by throwing off the shackles of an over-reaching government.  Get off welfare, get off WIC - be too proud to accept the state's handouts and be bound by their chains.  Do the hard things.  Be willing to suffer, work hard and make your own way.  Don't blame the economy, the government or your parents.  Find that inner strength and rebuilt your nation.  Embrace good and shun evil.  Stand up for what you believe in, no matter what the cost.

It starts with you.  It starts with me.   We are the making of an American.

Liberty Alert!

I watch in awe as our liberties and rights are eroded one by one!  Will we stand by and allow this tyranny?  Will we meekly accept the "inevitable"?  Would  you be willing to trade liberty for "safety"?  Would you be defined as a "terrorist"?  This is our watch, people.  What are we going to allow.....

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Senate Moves To Allow Military To Intern Americans Without Trial

NDAA detention provision would turn America into a “battlefield”

Paul Joseph Watson
Infowars.com
Monday, November 28, 2011

The Senate is set to vote on a bill today that would define the whole of the United States as a “battlefield” and allow the U.S. Military to arrest American citizens in their own back yard without charge or trial.

“The Senate is going to vote on whether Congress will give this president—and every future president — the power to order the military to pick up and imprison without charge or trial civilians anywhere in the world. The power is so broad that even U.S. citizens could be swept up by the military and the military could be used far from any battlefield, even within the United States itself,” writes Chris Anders of the ACLU Washington Legislative Office.

Under the ‘worldwide indefinite detention without charge or trial’ provision of S.1867, the National Defense Authorization Act bill, which is set to be up for a vote on the Senate floor this week, the legislation will “basically say in law for the first time that the homeland is part of the battlefield,” said Sen. Lindsey Graham (R-S.C.), who supports the bill.

The bill was drafted in secret by Senators Carl Levin (D-Mich.) and John McCain (R-Ariz.), before being passed in a closed-door committee meeting without any kind of hearing. The language appears in sections 1031 and 1032 of the NDAA bill.

“I would also point out that these provisions raise serious questions as to who we are as a society and what our Constitution seeks to protect,”Colorado Senator Mark Udall said in a speech last week. One section of these provisions, section 1031, would be interpreted as allowing the military to capture and indefinitely detain American citizens on U.S. soil. Section 1031 essentially repeals the Posse Comitatus Act of 1878 by authorizing the U.S. military to perform law enforcement functions on American soil. That alone should alarm my colleagues on both sides of the aisle, but there are other problems with these provisions that must be resolved.”

This means Americans could be declared domestic terrorists and thrown in a military brig with no recourse whatsoever. Given that theDepartment of Homeland Security has characterized behavior such as buying gold, owning guns, using a watch or binoculars, donating to charity, using the telephone or email to find information, using cash, and all manner of mundane behaviors as potential indicators of domestic terrorism, such a provision would be wide open to abuse.

“American citizens and people picked up on American or Canadian or British streets being sent to military prisons indefinitely without even being charged with a crime. Really? Does anyone think this is a good idea? And why now?” asks Anders.

The ACLU is urging citizens to call their Senator and demand that theUdall Amendment be added to the bill, a change that would at least act as a check to prevent Americans being snatched off the streets without some form of Congressional oversight.

We have been warning for over a decade that Americans would become the target of laws supposedly aimed at terrorists and enemy combatants.Alex Jones personally documented how U.S. troops were being trained to arrest U.S. citizens in the event of martial law during urban warfare training drills back in the 90′s. Under the the National Defense Authorization Act bill, no declaration of martial law is necessary since Americans would now be subject to the same treatment as suspected insurgents in places like Afghanistan and Iraq.

If you thought that the executive assassination of American citizens abroad was bad enough, now similar powers will be extended to the “homeland,” in other words, your town, your community, your back yard.

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Paul Joseph Watson is the editor and writer for Prison Planet.com. He is the author of Order Out Of Chaos. Watson is also a regular fill-in host for The Alex Jones Show.

Going to War with the Gear You've Got....

As we go about our lives - eating, drinking and being merry - our newspaper headlines are unfolding like a poorly written end-of-the world novel.  The Euro is on the brink of failure, with the dollar quickly tumbling into the abyss.  Social chaos, once unthinkable, has now become commonplace.  This nation, planted by free men and fertilized by the blood of patriots is being ravaged by petty tyrants spouting equality and justice.  Smooth words oiled with lies provide a balm to the people while these tyrants establish for themselves empirical kingdoms - kingdoms whose very foundations crush the freedoms of men.

For those of us who see the signs of the times, all of this can be more than a little disturbing.  In fact, it can be downright scary.  My first inclination is to circle the wagons.  I want to make sure that my house is in order.  Do I have enough wheat?  What about antibiotics?  I'm pretty sure we could use some more olive oil.  The list is endless.  And then, what about our living situation?  This is not where I want to be.  I'd like to be a little more remote.  A root cellar sure would be nice.  And what about a milk cow - how can I survive the end of the world without a cow?  The worries pile up, one on top of the other, until they threaten to crush me.  And then I remember.  You have to go to war with the gear you've got, not the gear you want.

The reality is that when our country was hewn out of the forest, it was done so with little more than a few tools and a whole lot of heart.  The men and women who so desperately wanted a new life were willing to work, suffer and even die to establish a new country.  They relied on God and each other to survive.  They were willing to suffer, I mean really suffer, in order to secure a better life for themselves and their children.  They were always cold, always exhausted, always dirty, but they soldiered on because they knew that to turn back meant to live their lives at the mercy of someone else rather than living as free men.  They didn't have very  much in terms of "gear", but that didn't matter.  They chiseled a new world with the tools they had, not the tools they wanted.

I could come up with list after list of gear, equipment and provisions that I "need" to survive the-end-of-the-world-as-you-know-it, but the truth is, that it would never really be enough.  I would never feel like I had "made it".  I don't think I will ever utter the words "We're there - we don't need anything else".  It is just not human nature.  I can, however, go to the end of the world with what I have.  I have the most important things.  I have God.  I have my family.  I have skills, toughness and optimism.  And I am not afraid to suffer.

Too many times, in our rush to prepare for an uncertain future, we stock up, pile up and store up things, but we forget what we really need to be preparing - our minds and our souls.  Any of you who read this blog know that I think there is prudence in long term food storage and accumulating medical necessities and tactical gear, but, I urge you to realize that you will really never have enough of these things. You need to ready yourself for battle by preparing yourself for deprivation, for suffering and for hardship.  You cannot insulate yourself from the realities of the "end of the world" with storerooms full of stuff.  You will have to be able to go without and to make do.

No matter what you do, you will never have enough to last you through the end of the world.  Store what you can.  Learn what you can.  Do what you can.  Then, go to war with what you've got, not with what you want.

Sundown at Coffin Rock

This is a two part story that was originally published in The Blue Press.  Part two will be posted at a later date.  I'll let the story speak for itself.

________________________

By Raymond K. Paden

The old man walked slowly through the dry, fallen leaves of autumn, his practiced eye automatically choosing the bare and stony places in the trail for his feet. There was scarcely a sound as he passed, though his left knee was stiff with scar tissue. He grunted occasionally as the tight sinews pulled. Damn chainsaw, he thought.

Behind him, the boy shuffled along, trying to imitate his grandfather, but unable to mimic the silent motion that the old man had learned during countless winter days upon this wooded mountain in pursuit of game. He’s fifteen years old, the old man thought. Plenty old enough to be learning…But that was another time, another America. His mind drifted, and he saw himself, a fifteen-year-old boy following in the footsteps of his own grandfather, clutching a twelve gauge in his trembling hands as they tracked a wounded whitetail.

The leg was hurting worse now, and he slowed his pace a bit. Plenty of time. It should have been my own son here with me now, the old man thought sadly. But Jason had no interest, no understanding. He cared for nothing but pounding on the keys of that damned computer terminal. He knew nothing about the woods, or where food came from…or freedom. And that’s my fault, isn’t it?

The old man stopped and held up his hand, motioning for the boy to look. In the small clearing ahead, the deer stood motionless, watching them. It was a scraggly buck, underfed and sickly, but the boy’s eyes lit up with excitement. It had been many years since they had seen even a single whitetail here on the mountain. After the hunting had stopped, the population had exploded. The deer had eaten the mountain almost bare until erosion had become a serious problem in some places. That following winter, three starving does had wandered into the old man’s yard, trying to eat the bark off of his pecan trees, and he had wished the “animal rights” fanatics could have been there then. It was against the law, but old man knew a higher law, and he took an axe into the yard and killed the starving beasts. They did not have the strength to run.

The buck finally turned and loped away, and they continued down the trail to the river. When they came to the “Big Oak,” the old man turned and pushed through the heavy brush beside the trail and the boy followed, wordlessly. The old man knew that Thomas was curious about their leaving the trail, but the boy had learned to move silently (well, almost) and that meant no talking. When they came to “Coffin Rock,” the old man sat down upon it and motioned for the boy to join him.

“You see this rock, shaped like a casket?” the old man asked. “Yes sir.”  The old man smiled. The boy was respectful and polite. He loved the outdoors, too. Everything a man could ask in a grandson…or a son.

“I want you to remember this place, and what I’m about to tell you. A lot of it isn’t going to make any sense to you, but it’s important and one day you’ll understand it well enough. The old man paused. Now that he was here, he didn’t really know where to start.

“Before you were born,” he began at last, “this country was different. I’ve told you about hunting, about how everybody who obeyed the law could own guns. A man could speak out, anywhere, without worrying about whether he’d get back home or not. School was different, too. A man could send his kids to a church school, or a private school, or even teach them at home. But even in the public schools, they didn’t spend all their time trying to brainwash you like they do at yours now.”  The old man paused, and was silent for many minutes. The boy was still, watching a chipmunk scavenging beside a fallen tree below them.

“Things don’t ever happen all at once, boy. They just sort of sneak up on you. Sure, we knew guns were important; we just didn’t think it would ever happen in America. But we had to do something about crime, they said. It was a crisis. Everything was a crisis!  It was a drug crisis, or a terrorism crisis, or street crime, or gang crime. Even a ‘health care’ crisis was an excuse to take away a little more of our rights.” The old man turned to look at his grandson.

“They ever let you read a thing called the Constitution down there at your school?” The boy solemnly shook his head. “Well, the Fourth Amendment’s still in there. It says there won’t be any unreasonable searches and seizures. It says you’re safe in your own home.”  The old man shrugged. “That had to go. It was a crisis! They could kick your door open any time, day or night, and come in with guns blazing if they thought you had drugs…or later, guns. Oh, at first it was just registration – to keep the guns out of the hands of criminals!  But that didn’t work, of course, and then later when they wanted to take ‘em they knew where to look. They banned “assault rifles”, and then “sniper rifles”, and “Saturday-night-specials.” Everything you saw on the TV or in the movies was against us. God knows the news people were!  And the schools were teaching our kids that nobody needed guns anymore. We tried to take a stand, but we felt like the whole face of our country had changed and we were left outside.

“Me and a friend of mine, when we saw what was happening, we came and built a secret place up here on the mountain. A place where we could put our guns until we needed them. We figured some day Americans would remember what it was like to be free, and what kind of price we had to pay for that freedom. So we hid our guns instead of losing them.”

“One fellow I knew disagreed. He said we ought to use our guns now and stand up to the government. ‘Said that the colonists had fought for their freedom when the British tried to disarm them at Lexington and Concord. Well, he and a lot of others died in what your history books call the ‘Tax Revolt of 1998,’ but son, it wasn’t the revolt that caused the repeal of the Second Amendment like your history book says. The Second Amendment was already gone long before they ever repealed it. The rest of us thought we were doing the right thing by waiting. I hope to God we were right.

“You see, Thomas. It isn’t government that makes a man free. In the end, governments always do just the opposite. They gobble up freedom like hungry pigs. You have to have laws to keep the worst in men under control, but at the same time the people have to have guns, too, in order to keep the government itself under control. In our country, the people were supposed to be the final authority of the law, but that was a long time ago. Once the guns were gone, there was no reason for those who run the government to give a damn about laws and constitutional rights and such. They just did what they pleased and anyone who spoke out…well, I’m getting ahead of myself.

“It took a long time to collect up all the millions of firearms that were in private hands. The government created a whole new agency to see to it. There were rewards for turning your friends in, too. Drug dealers and murderers were set free after two or three years in prison, but possession of a gun would get you mandatory life behind bars with no parole.

“I don’t know how they found out about me, probably knew I’d been a hunter all those years, or maybe somebody turned me in. They picked me up on suspicion and took me down to the federal building.

“Son, those guys did everything they could think of to me. Kept me locked up in this little room for hours, no food, no water. They kept coming in, asking me where the guns were. ‘What guns?’  I said. Whenever I’d doze off, they’d come crashing in, yelling and hollering. I got to where I didn’t know which end was up. I’d say I wanted my lawyer and they’d laugh. ‘Lawyers are for criminals’, they said. ‘You’ll get a lawyer after we get the guns.’ What’s so funny is, I know they thought they were doing the right thing. They were fighting crime!

“When I got home I found Ruth sitting in the middle of the living room floor, crying her eyes out. The house was a shambles. While I was down there, they’d come out and took our house apart. Didn’t need a search warrant, they said. National emergency! Gun crisis!  Your grandma tried to call our preacher and they ripped the phone off the wall. Told her that they’d go easy on me if she just told them where I kept my guns.” The old man laughed. “She told them to go to hell.” He stared into the distance for a moment as his laughter faded.

“They wouldn’t tell her about me, where I was or anything, that whole time. She said that she’d thought I was dead. She never got over that day, and she died the next December.

“They’ve been watching me ever since, off and on. I guess there’s not much for them to do anymore, now that all the guns are gone. Plenty of time to watch one foolish old man.” He paused. Beside him, the boy stared at the stone beneath his feet.

“Anyway, I figure that, one day, America will come to her senses. Our men will need those guns and they’ll be ready. We cleaned them and sealed them up good; they’ll last for years. Maybe it won’t be in your lifetime, Thomas. Maybe one day you’ll be sitting here with your son or grandson. Tell him about me, boy. Tell him about the way I said America used to be.” The old man stood, his bad leg shaking unsteadily beneath him.

“You see the way this stone points? You follow that line one-hundred feet down the hill and you’ll find a big round rock. It looks like it’s buried solid, but one man with a good pry bar can lift it, and there’s a concrete tunnel right under there that goes back into the hill.”

The old man stood, watching as the sun eased toward the ridge, coloring the sky and the world red. Below them, the river still splashed among the stones, as it had for a million years. It’s still going, the old man thought. There’ll be someone left to carry on for me when I’m gone. It was harder to walk back. He felt old and purposeless now, and it would be easier, he knew, to give in to that aching heaviness in his left lung that had begun to trouble him more and more. Damn cigarettes, he thought. His leg hurt, and the boy silently came up beside him and supported him as they started down the last mile toward the house. How quiet he walks, the old man thought. He’s learned well.

It was almost dark when the boy walked in. His father looked up from his paper.

“Did you and your granddad have a nice walk?”

“Yes,” the boy answered, opening the refrigerator. “You can call Agent Goodwin tomorrow. Gramps finally showed me where it is.”

Editor’s note: “Sundown at Coffin Rock” is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual events or to actual people, living or dead, REMAINS TO BE SEEN.

Sundown at Coffin Rock originally appeared in the May 1994 issue of The Blue Press – a catalog/magazine published by Dillon Precision Products, Inc., 8009 E. Dillon’s Way, Scottsdale, AZ 85260. For a free catalog, call (800) 762-3845.

The death of a Representative Republic

I was reading a news article earlier that announced our current administration's intent to raise tax rates for small businesses so that we would not be forced to shrink the government.  Interesting.  EVERY person I know believes that we SHOULD be shrinking the government.  If our country is truly a Representative Republic, were are our representatives?   The truth is, we don't have any representation.  Our country is being run by a tiny percentage of elite pseudo-intellectuals hell-bent on engineering their own utopia.  Their intent is not to build and maintain a bastion of refuge, opportunity and prosperity for the common man, but to build and maintain a feudal kingdom - a land of serfs, lords and kings, where the useful serve the useless.

One of the elements of our government that made our country great, was the fact that we were governed by our peers.  The very people who constructed laws were our friends and neighbors.  They resumed their lives after their duty of public service and lived under the laws they created.  That is no longer the case.  Our lawmakers now come from the societal elite.  They are lawyers, judges and masters of academia.  Gone are the farmers, the workers, the "common" man.  Our "public servants" now pass law after law that apply to everyone but themselves.  They get special deals, special passes and special favors.  No longer are we the masters and they the servants.  Our roles have reversed.  Now, rather than our days being filled with pursuing our destiny, they are filled serving our masters.

Unfortunately, the demise of our great nation has come from the families up.  Once, our children grew, learned and anxiously awaited the opportunity to make their own way in the world.  They would struggle, work hard and finally succeed, making their world and ours, a better place.  Now, all too often, our children are content to sit at home and allow their parents to take care of them.  They would rather have their folks pay the mortgage and buy food, supply them with medical care and make them snacks.  Struggle and hard work have become dirty words.  And so it is with our country. The parallels are uncanny. As we have watched our families decline, we have watched our country fail.  Every program, every hand-out, every so called "social improvement" has, in reality, crippled and handicapped our populace.  We have become so disabled that we are willing to become serfs under the protection of our benevolent lords.

If we do not stand up on our crippled legs and become our own masters, we are lost.  If we allow an elite few to dictate to the common masses, we will be watching the death of a Representative Republic.  We will be witnesses to the death of the United State of America.

Us against them

It is so easy to blame all of our societal ills on our duly elected leaders.  Us against them.  "They" just keep spending money.  "They" raise the debt ceiling.  "They" protect the banking industries and mortgage companies. "They" are evil.  We are merely innocent pawns in their multi-billion (or is that trillion?) dollar chess game.

Not so fast.  The reality of life is "the squeaky wheel gets the grease".  The more we yell about how tough life is, the more they throw money at us.  The more money they throw at us, the more we yell.  And on it goes.  We are so concerned about getting what we want for ourselves that we have  forgotten that you don't get something for nothing.  There is a price to be paid for everything, whether it is a "free" lunch for our children at school or a low interest rate on a mortgage we can't really afford.  We scream for the government to supply us with a paycheck when we are unemployed because it's not our fault we can't find a job.  We scream for the government to "help" us with our grocery's because times are tough and we can't provide for ourselves.  We scream for the state to pay for our hospital stays because medical costs are too much for an individual or family to bear.  We want subsidized housing, agriculture and education.  We want the state to pay for schools, special needs programs and youth sporting events.  We expect special services provided by the state when we have children with hearing problems, chronic medical issues and mental health concerns.  And then we wonder why our country is going broke.

Ultimately, all change begins with us.  We can keep voting one person after another out of office, but not a thing will change.  Nothing will change until we quit putting our hand out.  Nothing will change until we take responsibility for our own lives and our own choices.  Nothing will change until we choose to care for our own children, our own parents and our own selves.  Until we are ready to do the hard things, we are willingly putting ourselves at the mercy of a corrupt government.  Until we are willing to pay for our own hospital bills, our own mortgages, our own children's lunches and our own children's hearing aides, we are responsible for destroying our own country.  We are responsible, not "them".

We will live.  We will live without a constant influx of other people's money.  It will hurt.  It will reduce our standard of living.  But so what?!  It is during times of famine and times of want that truly great people are molded.  It is during adversity that character is built.  Be that person.  Choose to be a standard.  Choose to take responsibility, regardless of what Fred, down the road is doing.  It starts with one person, with one family, with one neighborhood.  It starts with you saying "no".  No to a free lunch.  No to welfare.  No to medicaid.  No to a corrupt government.  Say "no" to a handout and "yes" to true freedom. It isn't really us against them.  It is us against us.

The Great Men of History

It should have been a simple repair.  Generally, when our water pipes freeze, I just heat them up with the blow drier for a couple of minutes, and, wallah - running water.  But not this time.  The pipes just wouldn't thaw.  I wasn't too concerned.  It was just a minor inconvenience.  We did have cold running water at the bathtub, so I could keep things running fairly smoothly.  I was hoping for Sir Knight to get home, because he seems to have the magic touch with the hair dryer.  He always puts it in just the right spot and miraculously, water starts flowing almost immediately.  But not this time.

Sir Knight got home from a day slaying dragons, to a wife saying "before you get too comfortable...."  I told him that I had been unable to get the pipes thawed and that I had been at it off and on all day.  I also informed him that using the generator to run the hair dryer was not working because the dryer kept flipping the circuit breaker.  Maid Elizabeth and I had a system.  She would run out to the generator, make it back into the shouse just in time for me to yell "go flip the circuit breaker", run outside again and, well, you see were this is going!  It had been nothing short of frustrating.  By the time Sir Knight got home, I really didn't care if we had running water at the present, I just wanted to be done messing with the pipes.

Riding to my rescue, Sir Knight rolled up his sleeves, and humming a little tune (I think it might be his theme song) went to work on the pipes.  He cheated though, and used a torch (now why hadn't I thought of that?).  But still, the pipes wouldn't thaw.  What in the world? And then he saw it - the pipe was not only frozen, it had completely split at a seam!  Had any of my efforts, or the early efforts of Sir Knight worked, our entire bathroom would have been flooded.  And so, Sir Knight went to work.  Still humming his theme song, he dug through the tool box, found a little of this, a little of that and a hose clamp (don't ask) and fixed that broken pipe.

After his great success with the pipes, he was ready for a cup of tea.  But before he sat down to enjoy the evening, he decided to head out and start the generator so that we could charge batteries as we enjoyed our afternoon cuppa.  The generator started with one pull and Sir Knight came into our cozy shouse ready to put his feet up.  And then the breaker flipped.  Yes, you read that correctly.  After having tripped the breaker a gazillion times trying to run the hair dryer, it would no longer "hold".  There truly is no rest for the weary.  We really had to charge batteries, so it was back into the dark night for Sir Knight.  He had yet another dragon to slay.  With a flashlight held between his teeth, blowing on his hands from time to time to keep the frostbite at bay, Sir Knight re-wired the generator.

As Sir Knight lay on his back in the snow, in sub-zero temperatures (with a wind chill), holding a flashlight between his teeth, fixing the generator yet again, I started thinking about great men.  I don't mean wealthy men or successful men or powerful men, but GREAT men.  Men that persevere in the midst of crushing adversity, men that fail only to dust themselves off and start again, men that rise from the ashes like a Phoenix taking flight.  Men like my husband - the slayer of my dragons.

The great men of history have not been formed in the halls of academia or the nurseries of grand homes.  They have not been chiseled from the boardrooms of commerce or the venerable marbled columns of congress. They have been hewn out of adversity.  The stoic men that built our country held fast the British and overcame the British and Hessian armies through sheer grit, determination.  They met adversity as Great Men.

"To compound Washington's problems, the enlistments of the majority of the Militias under his command were due to expire at the end of the month and the troops return to their homes.  Washington had to do something, and quickly.


His decision was to attack the British.  The target was the Hessian-held town of Trenton just across the Delaware River.


During the night of December 25, Washington led his troops across the ice-swollen Delaware about 9 miles north of Trenton.  The weather was horrendous and the river treacherous.  Raging winds combined with snow, sleet and rain to produce almost impossible conditions.  To add to the difficulties, a significant number of Washington's force marched through the snow without shoes. 


The next morning, they attacked to the south, taking the Hessian garrison by surprise and over-running the town.  After fierce fighting, and the loss of their commander, the Hessian's surrendered.  


Washington's victory was complete, but his situation precarious.  The violent weather continued - making a strike toward Princeton problematic.  Washington and his commanding officers decided to retrace their steps across the Delaware River, taking their Hessian prisoners with them.  


The news of the American victory spread rapidly through the colonies reinvigorating the failing spirit of the revolution.  The battle's outcome also gave Washington and his officers the confidence to mount another campaign.  On December 30, they again crossed the Delaware, attacked and won another victory at Trenton on January 2, and then pushed on to Princeton defeating the British there on January 3.


Although not apparent at the time, these battles were a decisive turning point in the Revolution.  The victories pulled the languishing Revolution out of the depths of despair, galvanized colonial support, shocked the British and convinced potential allies, such as France, Holland and Spain, that the Continental Army was a force to be reckoned with."
                                            EyeWitness to History.com

The list of great men is long, but, I'm afraid, not current.  I do not see Great Men leading our country, standing in the gap between good and evil.  I do not see Great Men being hewn in the school of adversity.

Our country longs for a Great Man.  We long for a leader that will stand for truth and righteousness regardless of the personal cost.  If a Great Man were to lead us, we would follow.

Our family is lead by a Great Man.  That is a beginning.  If many Great Men were to rise in families, more Great Men would follow in their footsteps.  If we embraced adversity and allowed it to form our boys into Great Men, our country would experience a revival unparalleled.

And behind every Great Man, there is a woman, quietly, humbly, encouraging, serving, helping her man become a Great Man.

It is well....

I write this with tears rolling down my face.  As I read the news headlines, I am overwhelmed.  Each headlines  feels like a physical blow.....Oil tipped to bubble over $100 per barrel; US Treasuries hit by biggest selloff since Lehmans;  Food stamps rolls continue to rise;  Walmart joins with DHS in "If you see something, say somthing";  and the list just goes on and on.  My country is falling apart.

Am I weeping for my creature comforts and my lost dreams?  Maybe, a little.  But what I am really weeping for is the greed, the pride, the sin that brought us to this point.  I weep for the very integrity of a country bent on destruction.  We have put our own needs before the needs of others.  We have forgotten to stand in the gap between evil and good.  We have followed the crowd and been lead like sheep to the slaughter.

As my mind reels, as I struggle to understand where we are as a nation - one song keeps rolling through the forefront of my soul...."It is well".  It reminds me that this life is but a vapor, a poor reflection of eternity.  My only concern is to see that it is well with my soul.

It is Well

1. When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
   When sorrows like sea billows roll;
   Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
   It is well, it is well, with my soul.
   • Refrain:
     It is well, with my soul,
     It is well, it is well, with my soul.
2. Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
   Let this blest assurance control,
   That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
   And hath shed His own blood for my soul.
3. My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
   My sin, not in part but the whole,
   Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
   Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!
4. For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live:
   If Jordan above me shall roll,
   No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life
   Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.
5. But, Lord, ’tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,
   The sky, not the grave, is our goal;
   Oh, trump of the angel! Oh, voice of the Lord!
   Blessed hope, blessed rest of my soul!
6. And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
   The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
   The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
   Even so, it is well with my soul.

There is a price to be paid...

Ten years ago, Sir Knight and I went off-grid.  We had toyed with the idea for years, but never seriously considered an off-grid life.  And then, we met the representative from the power company.

In order to have power run to our new shop, we had to hire an engineer from the local electric cooperative to tell us how much it would be to bring in power.  He met my husband at our property, shot the distance from the service hub to our shop and said that it would be  $9,899.00 for power and an additional $125.00 for his services.

We had budgeted about $5,000.00 for electrical service, not $10,000.00, so Sir Knight asked if we could hire a contractor, dig the ditch and run the lines ourselves.  The engineer said, "Nope, our equipment, our lines, our easement.  That way, when we want to run power to your neighbors house and cut across your property, you can't tell us to ***** off".

Sir Knight and I had a decision to make.  We could either accept the power company's demands, or we could stand on our principles.  We didn't believe that the power company had the right to dictate to us what they could do (and what we couldn't do) on our property.  We chose to make our own power.  We have paid the price.

We spent our first year and a half with no electricity.  We paid the price.  We spent thousands of dollars on generators.  We paid the price.  We spent more money on fuel than we ever would have for power.   We paid the price.  When our power goes out, we can't make a phone call and expect power to be restored.  We paid the price.  We continue to pay the price for our principles every day.  We made a choice.  That choice came with consequences.

I often wonder how many people are willing to pay the price for the choices they make.  Are people willing to stand on principle - or are they content to bellyache about their lot in life?

Unfortunately, it seems that people want to have their cake and eat it, too.  They want to complain about rights being ripped from them, but are unwilling to make a stand.  They want to protest and write letters and proclaim their displeasure, but they sure don't want to inconvenienced by actually standing on principle.

As I watch our rights being eroded by the very people we put in place to ensure our liberty, I mourn.  I mourn, not for the rights we once had, but for the character of the people that have allowed this tragedy.  I mourn the death of the American citizen that would rather die than forfeit liberty for security.  I mourn the staunch character that embodied this once great nation.  I mourn the fortitude of a people that would choose "right" over "easy", and were willing to pay the price for their choices.  I mourn our Nation.

Our country needs a few good men.  It needs men willing to say "this far, and no further". It needs men willing to stand on principle.  It needs men willing to pay the price.

As quoted in the painting above:

"War is an ugly thing, but not the ugliest of things; the decayed and degraded state of moral and patriotic feeling which thinks nothing worth a war, is worse.  A man who has nothing which he cares about more than he does his personal safety is a miserable creature  who has no chance at being free, unless made and kept so by exertions of men better than himself."


                     John Stuart Mill  1806-1873

Thanksgiving Blessings

I send a heartfelt "Thank You" to all of my wonderful readers this Thanksgiving day.  Perhaps I am a bit prejudiced, but I am quite certain that the folks who share in our life adventures through this blog, are very possibly the true salt of the earth.  Thank you all, and Happy Thanksgiving!

Inasmuch as the great Father has given us this year an abundant harvest of Indian corn, wheat, peas, beans, squashes, and garden vegetables, and has made the forests to abound with game and the sea with fish and clams, and inasmuch as he has protected us from the ravages of the savages, has spared us from pestilence and disease, has granted us freedom to worship God according to the dictates of our own conscience.


Now I, your magistrate, do proclaim that all ye Pilgrims, with your wives and ye little ones, do gather at ye meeting house, on ye hill, between the hours of 9 and 12 in the day time, on Thursday, November 29th, of the year of our Lord one thousand six hundred and twenty-three and the third year since ye Pilgrims landed on ye Pilgrim Rock, there to listen to ye pastor and render thanksgiving to ye Almighty God for all His blessings.


--William Bradford
Ye Governor of Ye Colony

It happened on your watch

I have been watching with interest the recent victories of "tea party candidates" in numerous primary races across the country.  The grass roots Patriots are routinely trouncing their RNC loyalist adversaries.  The Republican incumbents are left feeling robbed of "their" seats and wondering what happened.  They are stomping their feet like spoiled children having a temper tantrum, screaming "If I can't have it, no one can!"

I know what happened.  The United States of America crumbled on their watch.  They can cry "but I didn't vote for it" or "I argued against it" or "I told them it wasn't a good idea", but it falls on deaf ears.  When push came to shove, what did they DO about it.  Nothing.  When the health care bill was passed in the middle of the night they did nothing.  When loyalist supreme court justices where sworn in they did nothing.  When corporate CEO's were raping the American public they did nothing.  They let it happen.  Then, to add insult to injury, they stood in front of news cameras and blamed every evil on the men and women on the other side of the aisle, who where, in fact, their co-conspirators, knowing that the ignorant public would open wide and swallow the poison they had concocted in the darkness of night.

The ignorant public isn't so ignorant after all.  They haven't believed the lies.  They are no longer buying what the loyalists are selling.  They are standing up and saying "It happened on your watch".  They are speaking with their votes.  The People are voting for fellow citizens who have never held a public office.  They are looking for representatives who will actually represent them, not the established system.  The people are saying "It happened on your watch, and you did nothing".  The American public knows, "All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing" (commonly attributed to Irish Political Philosopher Edmund Burke).  Evil has been flourishing and it has been happening on their watch.

Our "good" men did nothing.  And now they are paying the price.  Our Patriots our taking back their country.  They are not willing to allow evil to triumph.  American Patriots have taken the watch.  Loyalists, consider this your notice.

Resistance is futile

A "global community"? Really?  Is that what we are working for in this enlightened age?  Whatever happened to rugged individualism, personal responsibility and personal property rights?  Aren't those the tenets that made our country unique - not to mention great?

We were not designed to be part of a hive.  We were designed to be fully functioning, well-rounded, complete human beings, not dependent upon another group of people for our happiness or our survival.  We have, within each of us, the ability to prosper and thrive in any number of situations.  We adapt and we overcome.

Early in the history of our country, we tried communal living.  The Plymouth Colony was designed to be a utopia of civilized living.  Neighbor helping neighbor, everyone getting an equal share.  Widows who were unable to work would receive the same portion as the family whose members all toiled under the harsh conditions in the new country.  Families with small children would receive the same allotment as families made up of young, strong healthy men.  Everyone was equal.  It was a true socialist utopia.  It failed.  Miserably.

The first winter, nearly half of their number died.  Their social experiment is described thusly;♠The experience that was had in this common course and condition, tried sundry years and that amongst godly and sober men, may well evince the vanity of that conceit of Plato's and other ancients applauded by some of later times; that the taking away of property and bringing in community into a commonwealth would make them happy and flourishing; as if they were wiser than God. For this community (so far as it was) was found to breed much confusion and discontent and retard much employment that would have been to their benefit and comfort.

They began to reconsider their social experiment.  After much consideration, they came to embrace private property and individual responsibility...So they began to think how they might raise as much corn as they could, and obtain a better crop than they had done, that they might not still thus languish in misery. At length, after much debate of things, the Governor (with the advise of the chiefest among them) gave way that they should set corn every man for his own particular, and in that regard trust to themselves; in all other things to go in the general way as before. And so assigned to every family a parcel of land, according to the proportion of the number, for that end, only for present use (but made no division for inheritance) and ranged all boys and youth under some family. This had very good success, for it made all hands industrious, so as much more corn was planted than otherwise would have been by any means the Governor or any other could use, and saved him a great deal of trouble, and gave far better content. The women now went willingly into the field, and took their little ones with them to set corn; which before would allege weakness and inability; whom to have compelled would have been thought great tyranny and oppression.

 
All around, we hear the call to globalism.  Our children are called to be "Global Citizens".  We are obsessed with "Global Warming".  Our legislators encourage our admittance and adherence to "International Courts".    Our every day responsibilities are being usurped by state agencies under the guise of the "common good".  We are forced to comply with emission standards for the "common good".  Homes and business are seized under the auspices of eminent domain for the "common good".  Our children are educated by the state for the state, so they will be good "hive" members rather than rugged individuals.

Socialism has been tried.  Many times.  It has failed.  Many times.  People were not designed to be part of a collective.  We were designed to be unique, individual.  When we take that individual responsibility away, we take away the part of the man that makes him good.  Without being responsible for ourselves and without the necessity to provide for ourselves we become lazy and indolent.  When our personal property is stripped from us we no longer have the incentive to be good stewards.  If it is not ours, we have no vested interest in how it is cared for.  That goes for our homes, our jobs, our children.

We are racing toward destruction.  We are destroying our families, our communities, our country and our world.  We have to take back property and responsibility - they are interwoven and cannot be separated.  We cannot have life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness without property and responsibility.

I don't want to be a good little "Global Citizen".  I want to be a "Rugged Individual".  I believe that resistance is not futile.  We can resist.  We must resist.

Loyalist or Patriot?

Miss Calamity (our eleven year old daughter) stunned me the other day with an incredibly astute observation.  She informed me that ours is a family of Patriots.  Now that statement, in and of itself, may not seem earth shattering, but it got me thinking.  If we were patriots, what were the people who staunchly support the entrenched establishment?  After thinking long and hard, I came to the conclusion that the supporters of the status quo must be called "Loyalists".

Looking up the definitions of both Loyalist and Patriot, I made a startling discovery.  The definition of a loyalist is:   One who maintains loyalty to an established government, political party, or sovereign, especially during war or revolutionary change.   Conversely, here is the definition of a patriot:  One who loves and loyally or zealously supports one's own country.  Do you see the difference?  One supports the established government and the other supports their country!  What a revolutionary idea!  Literally.

As I watch our State and Federal governments in action, I see a wholesale group of loyalists.  They are loyal to their programs, they are loyal to their pet projects and they are loyal to their pocket books.  Ultimately, they are loyal to themselves.  Nowhere do I see a loyalty to their country or their countrymen.

Patriots have become icons of terrorism.  They have been labeled as enemy combatants and dissidents.  They have been marginalized for their love of country and staunch support of the ideals on which this great country was built.  We, as Patriots have become the enemy.

We are a country divided.  The terms "Republican" and "Democrat" no longer apply.  We are either Patriots or Loyalists.  Lovers of government and tyranny or lovers of country and freedom.  We are being thrust into a new era, that is, in fact, but another chapter in the story of liberty.

As said by one of the Great Patriots:  Gentlemen may cry, Peace, Peace-- but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!

We stand on a precipice.  Patriot or Loyalist. Tyranny or Liberty.  Security (supposed) or Freedom.  We all make a choice, either consciously or passively.  Choose you this day who you will serve - the author of oppression or the Father of liberty.  Will you meekly serve your masters or are you willing to suffer and perhaps even die in the name of Liberty and Freedom.  Choose you this day.