Yesterday I was talking to Third-Son-By-Adoption (and before I (again) get jumped by a bunch of people on facebook when this post shares, he’s not my adopted son, he’s my son-by-adoption, a science fiction thing where you claim your close friends as family members. He has parents (whom I like very much too) and claiming him as my son would impinge on their rights) late at night and I told him I haven’t been this angry since my young street-brawl days. (I wore reinforced boots for a reason.)
Between 12 and sixteen, I took a saying by some commie (which was taught to us by our lefty teachers, because really, the left never seems to understand when they ARE in power) “A flea can’t stop a train, but it can give an itch to the conductor” as my motto, and engaged in hooliganism, sabotage and general … well, I aimed to misbehave and boy, oh, boy I did.
Except for one occasion when fate thrust me in front of machine guns and my reaction might or might not have determined the reaction of the crowd, my actions were small and might never have been illegal. Or if they were — it was illegal to remove political posters, because you needed a license to put them up — it was more than flesh and blood could manage, when they plastered the city in posters maligning the Americans, that I wouldn’t find a way to tear them out. (I’d back up to the poster, and remove it behind my back, then stuff the pieces in my very large purse. Every night I’d come home and hand my mom the pieces to burn.) Mostly it was “pranks to make my classmates and teachers look stupid, because they are.” And there was street fighting.
All of this kept me from getting in real serious trouble, of the “setting people on fire” variety.
For that matter, my blog might be my safety valve.
As to why I’m more angry now than I’ve been since then, it’s rather the same thing and the same reasons.
Another friend — might have been a commenter here — the other day was classing people according to Pratchett characters and said “And you’re William DeWorde.”
I don’t think this person had any idea how close — for various reasons — that hit to the mark.
Despite being a fiction writer (fiction is consensual mutual lies, okay?) I despise seeing truth abused. There has been so much of it in my life. I’ve been told so many lies by people who were sure they were my moral betters, even while they knew they were lying to me. And those lies were so poisonous. Their lying interpretation of history and economics have filled 100 million graves at least (and as Colonel Kratman says, probably more.)
For people in power to speak power to truth, particularly when those people are leftists who are reversing victim and aggressor makes me INCANDESCENTLY angry.
I can take people lying. Of course, I can take people lying. I even understand the concept of social/polite lying and don’t get bent out of shape over it (yes, I DO want a medal. Why?)
It’s when the lies are poisonous and you reverse power and powerless and victim and attacker that I become angry. VERY VERY ANGRY.
So the memo… was not news, except for where it matched ideas that were so “crazy” they made even me uncomfortable. And yet… it was true. Yeah. So.
I’m angrier than I’ve been in decades. I don’t think I’m alone in this.
And Number Three Son By Adoption said “Remember you said revolutions occur when things are getting better? Well, things are getting better.”
He’s right you know. For the first time in years a lot of us have emotional space to be angry. At the same time the left, the side formerly in control of all the mass everything from communications to entertainment, feels their power slipping away and are getting outright stupid. Stupid people make mistakes, and not of the kind we shouldn’t interrupt them while said mistakes are being made. I.e. as we used to say in the eighties “the bear is most dangerous while wounded.”
So — beware. There’s quicksand ahead. A revolution or armed conflict is still the worst case scenario. Even we — particularly we — on the freedom side aren’t likely to like the result. But it might also be very hard to avoid.
Keep your wits about you. Beware of how your emotions cloud your judgement. Do not retreat. Do not apologize. But don’t strike the first blow.
Sursum corda. The odds are slim but there IS still a chance we get through this unscathed and emerge closer to the constitution. And you know, maybe G-d isn’t tired of looking out for fools, drunkards and the United States of America. Yet.