Loki Was Right

If you have seen the movie, The Avengers, you know Loki's actions in Stuttgart and his capture by Iron Man and Captain America.  When he's busy terrorizing a street full of people he commands all of them to kneel and tells them, "Is this not your natural state?" And then goes on to tell them that he's there to free them.  From the illusion of Freedom.

For those of us who are still rational human beings the idea is anathema.  Our entire being rebels against such a thing.  I know I do.  I will never, ever kneel, willingly, to any despot or tyrant.  Better to be shot off my feet than die on my knees.  It simply will not happen.

But it makes you think. I know it did me.  I think of George Orwell's 1984 and Aldous Huxley's Brave New World, Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged and wonder at three twentieth century authors who saw the future in a totalitarian type of dictatorship rather than a democracy and you have to wonder why.  Could it be that Woodrow Wilson's tiptoe down the Progressive path was a harbinger for them?  I do.  FDR's administration was most likely a huge bell weather to them, screaming of the society to come.  The society where we are all on our knees, dependent on Momma Gubmint for the very food in our mouths.  They foresaw the welfare state and the horrors it brings.

A totalitarian government rules by food. Doubt me? Ask anyone in North Korea.  I know, because I have.  Disagree with those in power and you are forced to watch everyone in your family starve.  Is it really any stretch of the imagination to wonder why the government all of a sudden wants everyone on Food Stamps?  Why Food Stamps are held out like a carrot on this side of the border to those on the other side.  Crawl on your knees and come get it, they are saying.  Be beholden to us, they lure them in and once they are here and on  welfare, they have them, forever. Government is the biggest drug ever created by man and sold as a panacea to everyone.

I have no desire to live my life for the comfort of another. I need no asshole telling me how to live my life so that it can please THEM.  I will never go to my knees, even if it means I will be killed. It doesn't make me brave, it doesn't make me anything but free. Free in my mind, free in my body.  I will always be free and there is nothing anyone can do to change that.  For I will be a slave to no man and kneeling is not my natural state.

Glee

This is not about the Fox TV series, so if you tuned in here hoping for singing and dancing, there will be none of that.  This is real life.

My husband, who is a grown-up little boy discovered a new game. He has to help some creatures build a rocket, achieve escape velocity and orbit a spacecraft around a planet.  It's not as easy as it sounds.  Rocket Science is a real and difficult science.  I know because my dad, way back in the 70's had a TI calculator and he would hand it to me to shut me up after loading up a "game" where you had to calculate the amount of fuel it would take to achieve orbit around the moon and then safely land the craft, then lift off and start a trajectory home.  It was an excellent lesson in husbanding your resources.

My husband, at the age of 43 is just now learning this lesson.  Well, let me be honest, he's not really learned it yet, but I have faith that he will.  I've put in my two cents worth regarding gyroscopes and types of fuel and payload, etc., to no avail.  He will learn this on his own.  And even though I need him to be doing things around the house this morning, I am not saying a word about his sitting there playing this game.

Why?

Because the man is having more fun than is allowed under the Obama Administration in just building the rockets and watching his test pilots die.  He's like some evil, mad scientist, cackling with utter glee every time one of his rockets crash.  To be honest, I'm pretty sure that just one more and he will actually sit back, cackle, then clap his hands.  It's a thing of beauty to watch.  He's had a tough week, and then there is the day in and day out torture of living with me he has to endure.  But, he signed on for that.

Me?  I experience glee walking barefoot in the grass. (If my podiatrist is reading this, I am really standing still in the grass, really.)  I love being out amongst my plants.  I'm even creating an entire part of my backyard so I can sit in my flora and do my first favorite thing, read.  If I feel like it, I may even knit.  And then, my life will be complete.  Utter glee is reached upon riding my bike anywhere.  There is a joy in riding a motorcycle that cannot be experienced anywhere else.  I don't remember liking riding horses half as much as I do my motorcycle.  Mainly because I don't have to groom the horse or clean the tackle after a ride. I'm lazy that way.

Life should be lived with joy, with glee.  Why are we told that misery is supposed to be our natural state and that it is only clawing our way from our misery that we achieve anything and then only for other people, not for ourselves.  What an obscene vision of life that is.  I will live my life with such joy in a world that has little use for it.  Why?  Because I love being alive.  I love living.  I love living for ME and no one else.  My soul is not tortured, nor has it ever been.  There are things that bother me, but nothing that makes me miserable.  I don't allow it.  Some of my happiest moments have been spent troubleshooting a problem so that I do not have to worry and wallow in self-pity, usually brought on by things I have done.

We need to teach our children to enjoy life and live without fear.  Life is to be enjoyed.  Just like the grown man sitting next to me, giggling, because of the look on his test-pilot's face.  Glee.  Utter glee.

ADHD Fictitious Disease

For all of my life I've had to deal with hyper kids.  I started baby-sitting when I was 11 years old and kept it up for long after I had my own kids. I like kids.  I find them funny and appreciative of things like cookies, hugs and someone just listening to them like they matter.


Recently, the Father of ADHD, Leon Eisenberg, admitted that the condition, which has been soooo over-diagnosed, especially in the past 20 years, was a fictitious disease.

“ADHD is a prime example of a fictitious disease”

OK, This is the guy who invented an entire condition that has left 2 generations of kids doped up on Ritalin as basic zombies and now, just before he dies, he admits he made up the whole damned thing?  What this charlatan and his ilk have done to these kids is criminal.  They removed all free will for the children to learn better behaviours in the need for expediency of parents who didn't want to parent and teachers who didn't want to teach.

Go ahead, tell me your stories of your child who was sooooooo helped by being zombified on Ritalin or the other drugs used to make them more malleable, sitting staring at the television so mommy and daddy can enjoy their cocktails without having to actually deal with their children after working.  God forbid they go outside and play and be normal kids.

You may find my indictment of modern parenting harsh, but I've gotten to deal with far too many of the results to think otherwise.  I spent 7 years teaching classrooms of full of the kids no one else wanted to teach because "they're hyper".  I would be saddled with about 13 of these kids each year and yet I had no problem with them whatsoever once I set the perimeters of what our relationship would be.  You would be amazed at how quickly an eleven year old boy can learn the Nicene Creed when he acts up every time in class and has to recite it.  You may talk in class, yes.  But only something that I approve.  It's truly amazing how calmly they sit and listen when you engage their imaginations, play games, or sometimes, just go outside on the playground to teach a lesson about being kind to others by taking turns and not pushing each other.

I gave birth to 4 children.  None of them were ADHD, which, according to the eggheads with liberal arts degrees, say is a statistical impossibility because fully half of all American children are ADHD.  It's my fault my children were not medicated, because I didn't know the signs.  Oh, I know signs.  I love Development Psych in college and excelled in understanding my children's behaviours.  They acted up they got popped on the behind.  They also spent time in a corner and in their room, unable to play outside with their friends or watch TV with the family, with nothing more to engage their imagination than a stack of books on a night stand.  Yes, I was a horrible parent.  EVERYONE COME LOOK AT THE HORRIBLE PARENT!

What's worse?  Medicating my children into a zombie state so I can enjoy 30 minutes of peace and quite when I get home from work so I don't have to deal with the children I insisted on having or dealing with my kids and knowing the ONLY quiet I will have all day is when everyone is asleep and I have 30 minutes to do a load of laundry before I fall asleep on the couch trying to stay awake and watch the news?

When I chose, yes CHOSE, to bring children into the world I also accepted the responsibility of raising them to adulthood and perhaps I would be rewarded by having children other people didn't hate.  It was overwhelming to me how much responsibility I had taken on.  To the point of breaking into tears in the produce section of the local Kroger because at the tender age of 21 I had no idea what I was doing.

But, I did it.  I manned up and I did it.  I accepted that I had very little time to be their parent and the rest of their lives to be their friend.  I didn't have kids so someone would love me. I love myself and that's enough for me.  The fact that I have family and friends who love me as well is icing on a pretty fantastic cake. I raised my kids. It was hard and now that they are all grown, it still is.  I have to keep from putting me two cents worth in and stepping back to allow them their own mistakes to learn from.  I do so with the pride that they are making up their own minds and not just such suggestible zombies because I kept them drugged their entire lives.

That's why kids go nuts when they go to college without mommy and daddy there to make the decisions for them.  They've not learned the skills to get along in life because they have been doped up and medicated their entire lives so mommy can live her life without the benefit of the reality of messy kids.  And then they grow up to vote for Obama because someone with a liberal arts degree tells them they should.

There, I did manage to get politics into it!

Reality vs The Narrative

Eric Jensen, a friend of mine from the Conservative rebel camp on Facebook, told me this morning:

it's a bitch when reality doesn't cooperate with the narrative

Grammar and spelling are his, as well as sentence structure.

Which, in one short sentence, describes the entire Obama debacle.  I feel humbled that I was not that witty in my brevity.  It's taken me scores of blog posting to try to get my point across and he nailed it in one pithy comment on my previous post.

The Obama administration has been butting it's head against the stone wall of reality since before they took office.  One scandal after another has threatened to take them down, and they breathed a sigh of relief when the complicit media assisted them in cover up after cover up.  Then something amazing happened, one of their plantation overseers are CBS news, investigative reporter
Sheryl Attkisson decided that she didn't buy the whole "spontaneous response to a viral video on YouTube" lie and dug deeper.  And like a bulldog, refused to unclench her teeth when she dug up the cover up.  That damned uppity reporter! They're supposed to work FOR the administration, because, you know, that's what j-school taught all of them.

CBS is chafing under the truth bearing light at Attkisson is shining and wants to fire her.  She's finding it impossible to get her stories aired by her employer so she's doing the talk-show circuit, getting her story out.  The reporter has become the story because her moron boss couldn't think it through.  That's the downfall of all Liberals, the inability, unwillingness to see anything they do to it's natural end. Because, if they did, they wouldn't do what they do and cause the harm they do.

When you hear these people scream it's because they have just butted up against the Reality of the Situation.  Not political reality.  The Reality.

What difference does it make?  Well, Hillary, it actually makes a huge difference to people who realize that if you will green light the wholesale slaughter of 4 people under your "care" then you could very well do the same to them.  That is the reality of what you and Obama have done.  We now understand the truth of your vaunted "care".

So, yes.  It's a bitch when the reality doesn't cooperate with the narrative.

If You Ignore It It Will Go Away

An ambassador and three Americans died in Benghazi and our government has consistently lied to us about it every step of the way.  They have taken the attitude that we're too stupid to figure out their duplicity and just ignore the cries for justice for our dead.  This incident, more than ObamaCare, more than Fast and Furious, more the Pigford, more than any of the other numerous scandals of this administration clearly show WHY character matters. 

As an aside, Fuck the Clintons for making sure it hasn't since Bill got caught storing his cigars in a biological humidor.

Mark Steyn, in his recent National Review article wrote this:

Shortly before last November’s election I took part in a Fox News documentary on Benghazi, whose other participants included the former governor of New Hampshire John Sununu. Making chit-chat while the camera crew were setting up, Governor Sununu said to me that in his view Benghazi mattered because it was “a question of character.” That’s correct. On a question of foreign policy or counterterrorism strategy, men of good faith can make the wrong decisions. But a failure of character corrodes the integrity of the state.

 The Democrat Party has not had character since it threw it out with the baby during Clinton's trials with his malfunctioning zipper.  Sununu pointed that out clearly during the documentary that Steyn references.  The rot started at the top and worked it's way down to the men and women now being dragged before Senate hearings in Obama and Hilary's attempt to save their own political skin.  I think that the testimony I managed to hear this week was stomach turning.  When Mr. Hicks testified that he was sickened by Hillary Clinton's actions over Chris Stevens death, I knew exactly from where that nausea originate.  It's the wholesale breaking down of the shields that those people must use to function in that world.  They must put up barriers to deal with the lies, the half-truths, the refusal to be reasonable, rational people that they have to maintain to just function in their jobs.

Orwell was right folks, but the Libtards convinced themselves they were the goodies and that it didn't pertain to them and thus projected that image onto every Conservative they met. Projection is their game, not anyone else's.

Let me explain to you why character matters.  Like Gov. Sununu said, you can make bad decisions.  It is how you handle the fall-out of those decisions that matter.  It's not the scandal, it's the cover up.

Millions of Americans are demanding why, WHY the hell our forces were told to stand down from rescuing those in Libya?  The current administration does not want us delving any deeper, they want it to go away.  Distraction?  Jay Carney has tried numerous times and evidently considers us cankerous boils on his ass because we won't stop demanding answers.  Was September 2012 really that long ago, Mr. Carney?  Because I'm sure it doesn't seem like to the people who loved those four men your cancerous boss let die.  Who gave the ultimate order for them to stand down?  Why did they give that order and if it had ANYTHING at all to do with a re-election campaign, I can guarantee that your party and ilk will not win another election in the foreseeable future. Ask any historian how Reagan came about. 

Jimmy Carter anyone?  He can now rest easy that he will now be considered the second worst president ever.  I know Harding was relieved when Carter flubbed so badly in office.  He's now sitting pretty at third worst.

You all need to demand to know why.  Why the administration thought so little of its ambassador, it's embassy staff and of us, to think they could possibly get away with this?  But the ultimate irony lies in this, Hilary Clinton cut her political teeth on Watergate, she will now lay her political career to rest with Benghazi. Once again protecting a male by standing by him.

She's Fredo in the fishing boat politically.

The Naked Room

When the movie Failure to Launch came out one of the scenes played over and over was the one where the father, Terry Bradshaw, announces that he is going to have a naked room, now that his adult son is moved out of his home.  It was hilarious to the young.  To those of us with adult children still living at home, it rang so true.

I want to be the first to say this, because then others may feel better about voicing their opinions.  I am sick and tired of getting DRESSED to get a glass of water in the middle of the night.  And right here, I must thank Melissa on Twitter, for giving me the courage to say what I must.  I have not walked around my house in a t-shirt and panties since my youngest was on a summer internship in Baltimore.  My husband and I went nuts.  You would have thought we were brand new Nudist converts in our zeal for walking about naked or in very little clothing, especially during a Texas summer.  When she came home we were angry, upset.  When her two older brothers moved back into the house we pretty much gave up hope of ever being comfortable in our own home.

Walking around the house naked is the God given right to every home-owner, rent-payer.  In fact, if they hadn't been so prissy after the Revolution, I'm pretty sure it would be a Constitutional right.  Talk about Natural Rights, yeah?  After years of keeping dressed because there were young men and scads of girls spending the night in my house, I was soooo ready for the last chick to leave the nest just so I could walk around in whatever I wanted, regardless of scarcity of material or state of fabric.  If the husband happens to want a free-balling night on the couch, then he should be able to do that.  Not that he ever has or would, he's a little "not Dutch" that way.  But he should be able to if the desire ever hit him to do so.

I understand that, without a privacy fence, I should not walk about my back yard sans clothing.  It's better for the whole world that way.  But, you know what?  If I did have a privacy fence and within my own extensive gardens, I should be allowed to go sky-clad if I wish.  I should not be held fashion hostage to the perv with a telescope and the nosy Parker with binoculars who invade my privacy by snooping around.  I have a friend with a pool who has had to forego late skinny dips because her new neighbors like to get up on their roof and watch.  But, think about it a moment, if they so chose, they could call the cops and have her arrested for indecent exposure.  For swimming in her privacy fence surrounded pool.

This isn't some pro-nudity rant. I'd much rather no one saw me naked except the two men who are either contractually obligated to do so or get paid to.  I feel for both men as I feel that no one should be forced into viewing that which is unattractive and my flabby, middle-aged body is just that.  But you know what?  It's my body and should be able to walk around with whatever I want covering it up in my own home.

The minute the kids are finally out for good, I'm going to run around here screaming and laughing in nothing but my underwear.  My Wonder Woman underwear.

Sometimes A Cigar Is Just A Cigar

For psych majors, and aren't there really just too many of those out there these days anyway, Freud's observation that sometimes something is what it is is confusing.  Just like that huge run on sentence.  For them, couched in the liberal teachings they've encountered their whole lives, the tacit, the unsaid, the euphemisms, the concept of something being exactly what it appears is mind boggling.  I have a friend who is about to graduate with her BA in psych and she's just recently come to realize this.  She's a really smart cookie with a heart as big as Texas, so it comes as no surprise to me that she's one of the few who realize this.

For those who believe in Political Correctness, Human Resources and Women's Studies, this may be a hard article for you to read.  I will use words that mean exactly what I say and say exactly what I mean.  To the generations who have been schooled in the "nudge, nudge, wink, wink" double speak of the Progressive Liberal, this article may be completely incomprehensible to you.  But, don't panic.  Remember, the Guide has that printed in bold letters on the cover.  A dictionary is always available and right wing academics are waiting with their phones to guide your way out of the darkness you have been conditioned to accept.

In all probability, between Ben Ghazi and Fast and Furious, Obama's administration will go down faster than a hooker on nickle night once the MSM is through sucking them off.  Yes, that was crude and entirely accurate.  Do I think that Chris Matthews is down on his knees under the Oval Office Desk?  Most days, yes, I do.  For all I know it would be Barry fellating Chris under the MSNBC news desk.  Do I think Brian Williams at NBC wants to pet Joe Biden like a prized puppy?  Without a doubt.  Do I think that Rachel Madcow is really an ugly, straight, angry bitch who just wants as much attention as pretending to be a lesbian can get her?  Yes.  Right there, three cigars that are just cigars.  In other words, they are exactly as they seem.

Libtards literally cannot grasp this concept.  For them the truth is hidden beneath layers upon layers of lies, so deep that they cannot be arsed to look for it and kept somnolent by a complicit media who wants so badly to be the good guys without ever knowing the true meaning of the word good.  To be honest, the past few years the idiots in Washington are more reminiscent of monkeys fucking a football than anything else.  The Beltway looks like one enormous circle jerk to everyone outside it and the ONLY people who don't see that are the ones who don't wish to see it.  And yes, that includes everyone within the educational system.

Let me lay this on you. If Libtards truly loved the children and wanted the world so perfect for them, why do they insist on killing so many of them?  Why do they only love oppressed minorities and have no use for those who made it off their plantation?  If they truly agreed with equality of the sexes, why do they notoriously pay women less than they do for a man in the same position? If they truly want equality, explain Nancy Legosi to me.  They want clean, low cost power for everyone and tell resource rich Africans they do not have the right to use their resources and keep them literally in the dark and away from truly improving their lives.  If solar panels are so fantastic, why aren't THEY using them all over the place? Why do they expect others to live in squalor so they can live in luxury?

When you can answer those questions, you will begin to understand this article.  Because, baby, that's just the beginning.  It is what it is.

Why I Will Never Go To Another Theatre

Good manners cost nothing is something both of my grandmothers tried to push into my consciousness.  It didn't really take, not on the level they believed it should, but it's like a TSR program on a computer, always running, always there.  My children would be shocked to be aware of this, as they see me as a growly monster, lashing out irrationally at anyone I consider lesser than me. It clearly shows the state of their immature psyches.

I don't get mad at waiters for bringing me the wrong drink or meal.  Mistakes are made every minute of every day.  The law of averages says I will be on the losing side of one of those at least once a week.  I get irate in traffic. Especially when I see the same cars making the same bad decisions day after day after day.  I yell and scream within the confines of my car or motorcycle helmet.  I glare as I pass by them.  That's as far as my road rage goes.  Much like Mt. Aetna venting to relieve pressure within the magma chamber.

I don't get angry with salesmen/women in shops for doing their job and trying to assist me with a sale.  If I know going in I'm just browsing, I tell them that, politely, so that they can find other pickings.  If I change my mind, I find that salesperson and if they are not assisting anyone else, I allow them to get credit for that purchase.

I tip well, unfailingly thank people for kindnesses or services they give me, and try to treat other people in the same manner.

So how did all of that come crashing down in a movie theatre last night?  Because everything that could go wrong, did go wrong, with a ton of stupidity thrown in for good measure.  I had the worst movie going experience of my life, and this comes my decade long embargo against movie theatres because of the VCR generation.

First off, I purchased my tickets online so that I would not have to stand in what I knew would be long lines. The movie time changed three times from the time I purchased the tickets. The kiosk to get my tickets was broken so I had to stand in the long lines I had tried to avoid (averting the stupid is also a good tool in retaining your courtesy).  I finally get to the window with my cell phone out, passbook open with my Confirmation Code.  The chick behind the glass then hands the phone back telling me she needs my confirmation code.  I pointed to it on the screen and said, "It's right there where it says 'Confirmation Code'."  She had the grace to look sheepish just before the swept the glass and lost it all.  I had to go back, find my code and hand it back to her, which, at this point I was not betting was a good idea.  I finally get my two tickets and head inside.

Inside I am herded into an even longer line.  My son held a spot in line while I visited the amenities. When I got out the line was moving. We got through and then were immediately herded to the theatre.  WTF?  I want my Icee and Twizzlers!  We get into the stadium and there are literally rows and rows of empty seats with sweaters, jackets and teens spread across them.  "These seats are saved!" the little beasts screamed.  Great.  Now I am in a theatre with screaming pre-pubers, loud teens, and I have to sit over to the side with a huge bar blocking my view of the bottom half of the screen. Oh yeah, so flippin' happy I've paid money I've earned for this experience.

There were, what seemed like, 20 hours of previews for mediocre movies I have now decided to never view, not even for free in the confines of my own home.  The only ones I wanted to see were for the new Thor movie and the new Star Trek movie.  Eye candy, yes.  My son nerdgasmed over the new Man of Steel movie.  Yawnfest.  I've never been a Superman fan.  The new Wolverine movie also doesn't appeal.  I've never been a fan of his either.  I endured him over the years so I could enjoy the other X-Men.

And then finally, the dimmed lights go completely down, the curtains make their final swoosh to create a bigger screen for the movie and... people are still talking, still on their cell phones, despite the 8 hours of begging people to turn them off and disconnect for the movie.  So, awash in the backlit glory of iPhones, the movie began.  For the next 2.5 hours I was rapt, caught up in the tale of Tony Stark's struggle to come to terms with who he now was.  Ironman 3 completely rocked. The theatre experience blew diseased goats.

Through all of this, I did not tell anyone to shut up, sit down, or take their screaming baby out of the theatre.  My son and I kept our remarks amongst ourselves.  He has much more experience in this milieu as he's a movie person. I am not.  He's noticed the decline on a much more subtle scale than I because he's in the theatres almost every week.  I go, maybe, twice a year, and that's very maybe.

Hollywood sits backs and wonders why gates profits are steadily declining.  It's because what I experienced last night is now the norm for going to the movies.  It used to be considered rude if you talked in a movie and was not tolerated by the management.  Now it's ignored because someone, somewhere is afraid they will offend some teenybopper taking a picture of herself in the theatre to show she's actually there and then laughing and giggling as she posts it to Instagram. If any of them had attended with me last night instead of only seeing movies within the confines of their personal office theatres, then they would have had crystal clarity of why people with jobs and money no longer enjoy going to the movies. If I could buy the movie online and watch it at home, streaming to my TV I would do it and never ever again step foot inside a theatre. I hear that the studios are seriously considering such a scheme.  I know it will kill theatres, but they started it when they began refusing to quiet the rabble that were obviously not being taught good manners at home.

My husband is going to see the matinee today with our eldest and he will report back to me if his experience was any different from mine.  He would have gone nuts last night.  Perhaps it was a good thing he was too sick with man-flu to go with.

Nuke 'Em 'Til They Glow and Shoot 'Em In The Dark

Immediately after posting my last blog, I wrote on Twitter that I was totally uninspired to write. Then I got an article about Rick Perry's reaction to a cartoon in a Kalifornia newspaper.

On Facebook Governor Perry said,

Additionally, publishing this on the very day our state and nation paused to honor and mourn those who died only compounds the pain and suffering of the many Texans who lost family and friends in this disaster.

 Really Kalilfornia?  You flippin' attention whores can't even let families and communities mourn?  I'll definitely remember that the next earthquake/landslide/wild fire I hear about in your paradise of a state.  I'll hone in with laser accurateness the next time one of you idiots whine about your taxes/immigration/stupid government officials woes.  I will pray with the fervor of Old Testament David for you.

Uninspired now?  Oh, hell no.  I'm inspired with the kind of righteous anger only seen in Paladins and Templar knights. If the idiots in Kalifornia had any sense of self-preservation they would hunker down, STFU and remember that as the whiney pieces of crap they are, it might be best if they weren't seen OR heard.

But, wait until you get a load of the cartoons I have ready for their next self-created disaster.  In 5... 4... 3... 2...

Remembrance of Socialism

I was in conversation with my eldest child this morning, drinking coffee, as you do, when he asked me how old I was when I "discovered" socialism.  He didn't believe me when I said I was three years old.  I told him the story which I will now relate to you.

I had just learned how to read, I was a spontaneous reader, and I used to watch TV with my parents.  One night Russia was in the news. Since I'd never heard of Russia I asked my mother about it.  Hey, I was a toddler and still not sure that I should never ask that lying witch anything!  She tried to explain Socialism to me in terms she though I could understand at the tender age of three.  She told me that people were told what they would be when they grew up and who to marry.  All choice removed from their lives.  I told her, in the innocence of the age, that I hated that.  She agreed with me that it was a hateful thing.

I can remember that conversation as clearly as anything, yet I can't tell you what I had for dinner last night.  Hell, I don't remember IF I had dinner last night.  But you can say that my mother had one positive influence on my young mind in that she reinforced my innate hatred for anything that smacked of Socialism.  I think it shows a little greatness in me that I hated the system and not the people.  I was precocious, what can I say.

I grew up in the last 30 years of the Cold War.  My first presidential election I voted for Ronald Reagan.  I never voted straight party ticket because that's wrong and narrow minded.  If I may hazard being considered a baiter, it's bigoted as hell.  I never understood judging people based on stupid things like the color of their skin or what religion they practiced.  I've always judged people on the use of their abilities. Yes, I judge and I hope that I am judged on the same criteria.  I'm what you could call a DNA based Objectivist.  It was not something taught to me.  I recognized it immediately when I picked up Atlas Shrugged and began reading it at age 16.  I've always hated Socialism of any type. I didn't say, Oh!  This is a new idea! Because, I'd already recognized it as living in me.

I remember watching the Film Threads in the early 80's and being horrified at the effects of a nuclear war on the entire world.  It scared the hell out of me.  I'm not ashamed to admit that annihilation scares me.  The thought of anyone else telling me how to live my life infuriates me to the degree I think I will actually start breathing fire.  I'm a person and I know what is best for me.  I remember doing the bomb drills.  I remember Civil Defense signs and drills.  I remember what a bomb klaxon sounds like and freak out because both of my boys use it as their alarm clock sound.  Yeah, really fun to freak mom out, guys.  I know where you sleep, little buggers.

But, even with that childhood in my past, I always knew that if that was what it took to wipe out Liberalism and altruism, then I could accept that.  My freedom to choose my own path in life was worth that.  Plus, I always figured mankind was too smart to do annihilate itself. These days I'm not sure.  I've about had it with our bubble-wrap society and would OK a nuclear strike on DC, California and New York without a second thought.  I'm in Texas, it would never touch me.

For those of you gasping and clutching the pearls, let me tell you straight up, I am not stealing their choice from them.  Not one iota.  I am merely showing them the consequences of their decisions.  Choices have consequences and those consequences should be carefully weighed before you make your choice.  Is screaming in my face that I'm a selfish bitch worth the punch in the face you're most likely to get after I'm done laughing at you?  If it is, then scream away.  If you're lucky I laugh and walk away.  If I'm in a mood then you're lucky to walk away with a functioning psyche.  Yes, I paid close attention in all the psych classes I was forced to endure. I see most of the choices people make as God given sanction to mess with their heads.  However, I'm told I'm not a socio- or psychopath because I do have extreme empathy. I just don't base my actions or reactions on that.  I'm responsible and don't mess with people just because I can.

I remember watching the Berlin Wall falling and thinking to myself, "We are in for some shit now."  I was not proven wrong. We slowly watched nation after nation turn on socialism like a reverse Domino Effect.  Watching the Balkans implode in the next 20 years was also on my list of Things Most Likely To Happen.  I'm not a precog.  Not even close, but historically speaking, it really was the most likely thing to happen.  How are you going to hold them back when Archduke Ferdianand was already dead?  And they were not likely to have happy feelings towards those in NATO since we basically handed them over to Russia at the end of WWII.  Anyone remember that one?  No? OK, then.

But now we're on the verge of turning to a socialist nation while Russia is going through the growing pains of a Free Market society.  Go figure.  I still reserve my right to make my own choices.  If one of those choices is to shoot every communist mofo I recognize then so much the better.  Sacrifices must be made and I find that one acceptable.

I wonder when I will be able to write Remembrance of Capitalism?