On Killing Bambi

America, in 2019, is a land and a culture of sanitized convenience.  Our needs are met many times over.  In fact, our basic needs are so easily met that we rarely think of them.  We have morphed into a culture that believes that our desires and our wants are our needs.  All Americans, including me, have succumbed to this to one degree or another.

We have lost our connection to life, death, struggle, and provision and replaced reality with convenience, pleasure, fashion, hobbies, and games.

I was thinking this morning about how many Americans have never killed something and then cooked and eaten it.  Meat comes in a package, not with a heart and a set of lungs walking on bones.  Meat doesn't come with eyes pleading for life; it arrives riding on a carpet of Styrofoam, lifeless, and without context or concept of the life it once represented.

Killing an animal is not something to take lightly.  There is something quite unpleasant about it.  Even today, I feel a sympathy for the dying animal for whose death I am directly responsible.

Guilt, however, is not the emotion, for I feel no guilt in using the bounty that God has provided.  Connection comes as close as anything to describe the feeling.

I feel connected to a collective human past, connected to the provision of God in the most direct way possible, connected to the animal itself as its life is transformed into nutrients that make the continuation of my life possible.

It also reminds me that, someday, my carcass will be fodder for another creature.  And so it goes.

Every human, at least once in his or her life, should kill something, dress it, cook it, and eat it.  We all need to understand this fundamental aspect of life, to understand the nature of life and death, to enter a world that is bloody, and messy, and unsanitized, to enter a life that is connected to something real, to something that matters.

A small box I made from a Pecan Tree

Although I have focused on life and death, on killing and eating, there is so much more to consider.  Making your own lumber for instance.  The list is nearly infinite.

We, in our current culture, can never completely abandon the end-consumer role that we all play, however, there is great merit in taking steps to ensure that we have at least a rudimentary understanding of our actual dependence upon raw materials.

There is also a spiritual dimension, for, somehow, this awareness helps transform the crucifixion of Christ from an abstract concept to a loving sacrifice.  His life, much like the animal's life, was given for my benefit.  The animal's life contributed nutrients to my physical life; Christ's life provides the absolution needed for my spiritual life.

So give some though to making something, or cooking something.

Tell God how appreciative you are.

TheCurmudgeon

The Nazification of America

Since at least the dawn of the 20th century in America, there have been those who advocate for continued increase of governmental control.  American idiom labels this political philosophy as left, leftist, progressive, or liberal.  It has generally lived in the Democratic Party over the last 110 years or so.



Adolph Hitler

One can think of politics in general as being divided into one of two broad categories.  The first is a centralized focus of control, the other is a dispersed, or population, focus of control.  In other words, does the sovereignty of a nation reside in the hands of a central few, or in the hands of the populace?  In political terms, socialism advocates central control.  Notice that socialism, although touted primarily as an economic system, is also its own political system.

In order to achieve a socialist society, rights must NECESSARILY be taken from the populace and placed into the hands of the very few, or of the one.

The prelude to this take over is a predictable formula: 1) indoctrinate the young, 2) disarm the populace, 3) create (or exploit) a crisis, 4) discredit and marginalize the opposition.

Do yourself a favor and learn all you can about he rise of Nazi Germany because this is the exact formula that Hitler used to achieve power in the 1930's.

Germany, before Nazism, was the intellectual flower of Europe.  It had more Nobel laureates than any country on Earth.  It was also the home of the best theological thinkers.

How then, did it become the home of the most debased, tyrannical system Europe has ever seen? 

That is the question upon which you must focus.


Following the devastation of WWI, Germany was thrown into chaos and hardship, especially economic hardship.  The countries against whom Germany fought sought and secured retribution from the German people.  While perhaps satisfying at the time, this retribution placed a burden on Germany that was so large that it served as a focal point of unity amongst the disenfranchised German citizens.  The man who spotted this disenfranchisement as his crisis to exploit was Adolf Hitler.



Exploiting a Crisis

In America today, the crises need to be manufactured rather than identified, because there are no real crises to exploit.  Endless harangues about rampant racism flood the mass media and is, in my view, one the manufactured crises of the left.  It falls in line with the general tendency of the left to create victims of certain subgroups of American citizens and then set themselves up as the saviors of these various subgroups.


Indoctrinate the Young


Also, the left has been steadily, almost stealthfully, overtaking the education of our youth.  Not only in formal elementary, secondary, and university education, but also in daycare.  Consider just one small, seemingly innocent, cause of the left: universal daycare.  Ostensibly, their concern about providing daycare is their care of, and concern for, the welfare of the family, but the real issue is about who is filling young minds with ideas.

The concept of universal daycare as a political tool is not new: it was also used to great effect by the Nazis.


Disarmament

Another hallmark of the prelude to takeover is disarming the populace.  From the point of view of those who want to rule, disarmament is critical.  If one can render a population defenseless, the road to tyranny is well-paved.

In America, our right to be armed is guaranteed by the 2nd amendment to the US Constitution:

"A well-regulated militia being necessary to the security of a free-state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed."

In Germany, the Nazis demanded that a central registry of firearms be created for the ostensible purpose of aiding in the investigation of, and, therefore, lowering the rate of, crime.  The populace thought this sounded reasonable and voluntarily complied.  Soon thereafter, however, it was "determined" by Nazi officials that the anticipated decrease in crime had not occurred, therefore it was decreed that all firearms must be surrendered.  This task was simplified by the fact that those in power had a list of all the firearms in the country.  At that point, disarming the German populace was a fait accompli.

The purpose of keeping and bearing arms, according to our constitution, is to maintain "the security of a free-state."  It is not, as some on the right claim, for the purpose of defending ourselves against the common criminal, although it does serve that purpose as an added benefit.

When it comes to the second amendment rights, nothing less than our continued existence as a free society is at stake.  Do not forget this.  Do not be persuaded by reasonable-sounding arguments that gun control legislation is primarily concerned with crime reduction.  It is most emphatically not!  But, even if it were, it would ring hollow because, in America, the cities with the strictest gun control laws have the highest crime rates.  Just look at the homicide states from Chicago.

Gun control is a policy that fails at each and every level of scrutiny.

We are currently living in a time of considerable danger to our continued freedom.  The left has had almost complete control of our education system for several decades and we are now seeing the fruit from those seeds.  The young adults in America aren't simply left-leaning, increasingly, they are openly socialistic.


It has happened slowly, incrementally in small, additive decisions, each of which seemed unimportant in itself.  Remember the frog who begins in a comfortable vat of water but ends up boiled to death with small, seemingly unimportant increases in temperature.  This if how the left operates, a little at a time.  Always keep this in mind.

TheCurmudgeon

Heartbroken in Galveston

UTMB-Galveston

This year we had a great idea.  Megan thinks it was her idea, but, c'mon.

We figured that it would be fun to hang out at some exotic location with all of our kids and various other family members instead of giving Christmas gifts.  We were right about that.

We chose Galveston for the happening.  Actually, we chose Crystal Beach, and the house was great, the food was scrump-dilly-ishous, and the fellowship was superlative.  It's a pretty great group of people.

We arrived on a Thursday night and planned to leave Sunday morning.  Which we did.

As an added bonus, Sunday, March 3rd was our wedding anniversary.  Yep.  One year of wedded bliss.  Meg told me that she didn't want to do anything very exciting to celebrate this year, but I had a big surprise for her!  It was such a big, exciting surprise that even I didn't know about it.

Sunday morning happened to be my day to cook breakfast, so I rose early and began cooking up a simple, light breakfast of biscuits, sausage, white gravy, and eggs.  Just what the doctor (Kevorkian) ordered.

My Boy Gage

As fate would have it, while I was cooking, I felt the hammer thud of a heart attack.  I was pissed because I knew it would ruin my day.  I wouldn't even get to eat breakfast.

On a positive note, however, I had already tasted the gravy and it wasn't all that good, so I wasn't missing much there.

Next thing I knew, I was wringing wet with sweat, pale as Casper, short of breath, and I felt like Thor was having his way in my chest.  He's a jerk.

As I was being loaded on the ambulance, I looked over the crowd of my loved ones and I was sorry that I was putting them through this.

It didn't seem fair that they were so sad while I was looking forward to an exciting ride on an ambulance that was going to cross the bay on the ferry.

While I was happily bouncing along in the ambulance, Megan was racing behind us in the truck.  Somehow, her version of the whole thing isn't as carefree as mine because she thought the bouncing looked a lot like CPR.  She's a party-pooper.

In short order, I was whisked through the emergency room to the intensive care unit.  My nurse was cute.  Her name was Carlee.

In addition to Carlee, there were all manner of cute nurses who were busy like bees as I lay there in my fancy bed and backless gown.  There were beepers and buzzers and electrical cords and IV tubes going all whichaway.

Megan is still bitter that, while she was buying anniversary gifts in the hospital gift shop, I was getting a spongebath from a bunch of cuties.

And I quote, "And I didn't even get to watch!"

Leave it to her to put a negative spin on an otherwise great afternoon, but I think she was just jealous.

My Echo (Gender Reveal Pending)

And Carlee kept asking me questions.  Lots of questions.

Nowadays, apparently, hospitals are pretty concerned about our safety at home, so Carlee asked me if was getting enough food at home.  Uh, duh... I'm a fat guy in an ICU having a heart attack while on vacation... What's your best guess, sweetie?

Then she asked me if was being abused at home.  Keep in mind that I'd had a bucket of morphine by this point, before you judge me for saying, "If there's any abuse going on in my house, I'm the one doing it."

Thinking back on it, I'm glad that she didn't call the cops on me then and there.  Thankfully, I don't think she believed me.

The real kicker question, though, was this, "Have you been touched inappropriately?"

In a singsong voice, I immediately replied, "Not yeeeeet!"

The Ferry Ride Home

What can I say?  I'm an eternal optimist.

In case you're wondering, I've still not been touched inappropriately, but I'm not dead yet, right?

A few minutes later, I was taken to the cath lab where an otherwise polite doctor stuck a giant straw in my groin and passed a long tube into my heart where he shot a bunch of dye into my coronary arteries.  He saw that one of my main arteries was completely clotted.  He sucked the clot out and put a stent in the artery and my chest pain went away!  Glory be.

All-in-all, it was a pretty good time.

After spending two boring days in the hospital, they finally sprung me and we got to drive home.  I was plenty glad of that.

On the way through Lake Charles, we stopped at Steamboat Bill's and I had some Alaskan King Crab.  It was very yummy, and it was carb and red meat free, so shut up.

Never one to pass up an opportunity to give advice, I shall now do so:

Steamboat Bill's

1. When you're making white gravy, include some of the sausage.  It'll make it taste better.

2. Ambulance rides are fun.  Ferry rides are fun.  Riding in an ambulance while on a ferry is awesome.  The two events are synergistic.  If you ever get a chance, you should do it.  I'd recommend avoiding near death to do so, although, come to think of it, it did add to the excitement, so I guess you should make that decision for yourself.

3. Steamboat Bill's, in Lake Charles, Louisiana, is a terrific place to have one's first real meal following a heart attack.  I highly recommend it.

4. Sponge baths and cute nurses go together like peas and carrots, although your wife might not be too crazy about it.

5. If you ever get sick anywhere around Galveston, TX, go to UTMB-Galveston.  It's a great hospital with an amazing staff.  Even though they're Longhorn fans, I found that I wasn't able to hold that against them while they were saving my life.

I feel better now, though, and my Tigers are set to play the Horns this fall, so it's politics as usual now.

6. It's good to be alive.  Appreciate it.

The Curmudgeon

Harmony or Discord: Race Relations in America

As you may have noticed by many of my posts, I am interested in race relations in America.  I always have been.

In our current era, if one listens to the nightly news, one would believe that we are presently in the midst of a terrible racial crisis, that the races are at each others throats.

I'm reminded of an apocryphal story about an old man sitting at the gates of his city.  One day, the man was approached by a traveler and asked about the kind of people he should expect to find in the city.

The old man asked, "What are the people like where you come from?"

The traveler replied, "Oh, the people where I come from are wonderful.  They are kind and generous and understanding."

The old man said, "You shall find the same kind of people here in my town."

A bit later, another traveler arrived at the gate and asked the same question of the old man, whereupon the old man asked the new traveler the same question, "What are the people like where you come from?"

The second traveler replied, "You'd just not believe how terrible they are.  They're rude, they cheat whenever they get the chance, and they're stingy."

To which the old man said, "You shall find the same kind of people here in my town."

I have noticed that one sees what one wants to see.  I've also noticed that, as humans, we tend to personalize things to an unhealthy degree.  It's not unheard of for me to receive poor customer service of one sort or another.  Sometimes it's from a white employee, sometimes from a black one.  It's easy, because I'm white, to attribute poor service from an employee who happens to be black to a racial bias.  It may be easy, but it's not healthy.  More likely, they're just having a bad day, or, perhaps, they are just cranky all the time.  The likelihood that they care about me or my skin color is pretty low.

But, more often than not, I receive good customer service from blacks and whites alike.  They are generally cheerful and helpful no matter what their race.  All, whether black or white, are almost universally happy when I greet them cheerfully, and, if the mood strikes, with a joke of some sort.  We share a moment of humanity then go our own ways to meet our next task.

And, sometimes, we meet the extraordinary human.  Last week, as I pulled onto the highway after leaving work, I immediately noticed that my front tire was flat.  Never a good sign.

I pulled over and got busy changing the tire.  After about fifteen minutes of struggling with the broken mechanism which lifts the tire to its storage port under the bed of my truck, a man pulled up next to me and got out with an offer to help.  He saw the problem immediately because the same thing had happened with his truck last year.  He crawled under the bed and fixed the problem in short order.  He then stayed and helped my change the tire.

The whole time we chatted and enjoyed one anothers company and I felt as though I had met a kindred spirit.  He is someone who shares my view of man.

It shouldn't be noteworthy that he is a black man, but in today's climate, it's worth noting.  Honestly, it doesn't impress me that he is black because I think that humans are humans.  Some humans are kind of icky and creepy, and some humans are wonderful.

So, on a random weekday, in a random town in the deep south, a grouchy middle-aged white guy was blessed by a cheerful middle-aged (though somewhat younger) black guy.

That is the America that I see.

The America that I know.

The America that I love.

God Bless America.

TheCurmudgeon