There is little, if any, disagreement among polling agencies. All but 11 percent of the people think Hillary Clinton is untrustworthy, dishonest, deceptive, corrupt, blah, blah, blah. Put that conclusion another way. Only 11 percent thinks she’s trustworthy. Nine of ten people think she’s shifty, if not sinister. So what? The statistic is meaningless. Everyone knows who and what Clinton is. That everyone includes what appears to be half the American voters who fully intend to vote for her. That means 9-10 of those Americans who vote for her believe she’s a phony, or worse. If she’s a criminal, what does that make someone who votes for her? You can’t say that millions of people are hopelessly ignorant, can you? You can’t say that millions of people are inherently bad, can you? You can’t imagine that registered Democrats are so wedded to a dumb political party that they would put aside basic morality and vote for a documented crime boss, can you? Yes, yes and yes. A thousand times yes. You are living to witness just the latest version of human deviance. Look at your history books. Study any continent, any civilization, any culture, any millennium, any era, any century, any decade — and you begin to understand the unerring accuracy of that famous axiom: “History repeats itself.” Pay attention, class. If history has been engaged in continuous instant replay, some one or some thing is responsible for that repetition. Summoning every ounce of your intellect, you surmise the guilty parties are not the fish of the sea, nor the fowl of the air, nor the beasts of the field, nor every creeping thing that creepeth upon the face of the earth. Brilliantly, through process of elimination, you confirm that God put you and your ilk — humans — in charge of the replay booth. As an armchair quarterback, it’s easy enough to question His judgment, to ask if He might have considered other options. But you weren’t there on the Seventh Day to appreciate the constraints affecting His decision. Not too long after that first historic act, humans began rioting, killing and pillaging to steal, to rule and to satisfy their lust for blood. The September 21st replay in Charlotte was no different. Once again, a violent minority has intimidated the irrelevant majority — a majority that, with help of a pietistic media, will engage in introspection, to lay bare the cancer of its discrimination, to purge its guilt, to do penance and seek harmony through understanding — until the next riot. Charlotte and her progressive reformer Mayor (Jennifer Roberts) and City Council were primed perfectly for a hot war following a war of words over their unilateral mandate that a grown man could take a leak alongside any female of their choosing, if their feminine side happened to be in charge that day. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Transgender. Now the Mayor has other fish to fry as she reaches out to the NAACP and the local African American community with assurances of her heartfelt intention to seek justice, to erase discrimination and seek economic and social equality. Charlotte is so lucky to have a Mayor who understands why people are so angry. Unfortunately, no one knows how the people of Charlotte or the rest of North Carolina feel. And no one cares, because these people must be the people who are doing the oppressing — the very people the virtuous Colin Kaepernick dumped on by sitting, kneeling or squatting under the American flag. In November, Americans will once again decide whether America is worth their attention. In 2008 and 2012, they elected a black president. Black athletes, black entertainers, black politicians and black media personalities proliferate the landscape as never before. The outcome of this black accomplishment? Racism is more rampant than ever. The black community is more angry than ever. One woman loves the hostility and violence. She depends on it, banks on it as one key to victory. The other more vital key is her gender connection. America’s women will decide whether Hillary’s a “sister” or a shrew. You hope women will refuse to reward a career of criminal behavior and give America the chance to heal and flourish. You hope women will give you reason to have faith in humanity — to see history reject the replay button, and write a new story.
You and most of the people you know aren’t insane — that is, insane enough to risk confinement under the supervision of Nurse Ratchet. But don’t rule out, by virtue of being human, everyone is at least marginally cracked, much like everyone is a sinner — as the denizens of every pulpit at every faith-based gathering will never let you forget. Giving yourself a pass on ordinary Sin, you’re also gratified to know that you’re innocently possessed by a trace of insanity, and that knowledge might finally help explain human behavior. Unfortunately, no one has invented a polygraph for the brain — a simple device that, in the time it takes to chug a cup of coffee, could measure your level of derangement. Using an insanity scale of 1-10, a score of 8-10 would render you certifiable. A score of 1-3 would suggest that you’re normal — yet unpredictable enough to occasionally say or do something irrational — even something remarkably dumb. But please don’t confuse serious insanity with a misstep, an accident or some kind of spontaneous, regrettable action. Compared to these “normal” behavior patterns, a serious mental disorder — namely, level 5-10 — generally involves a studied premeditation.
You’re a husband and father, tooling along a relatively peaceful, back country two-lane road. You come to that runway stretch, and squeeze the accelerator, squeeze it, squeeze it, till the needle kisses 130, risking the lives of Farmer Brown, Bambi and assorted livestock, as well as exposing your family back home to ridicule and pain. Nuts, open and shut. You’re a 20-year-old stud, happily juiced as you lurch from your frat party, stumble behind the wheel and decide, no sweat, the late hour means light traffic. Besides, you’ve been down this road before. Your power of concentration is the stuff of legends. Mental city. You’re 16 and all the friends you care about — especially that sweet thing — are into pot, ecstasy and coke — you know you’re strong and can dabble all you want, no problem. Well, not for an imbecile. You’re a wife, mother and staff attorney at an association meeting, when simultaneously you choose to advance your career and escape boredom in the arms of a senior partner. Temporary insanity, your Honor. You’re a 30 year-old, single, African American mother of three, working two jobs, and you press the voting booth button for Hillary Clinton because she’s your best hope for a better life. Utterly mindless. You’re the head of the FBI and you decide the fate of your country, the stature of your office and your self respect are not worth upholding the letter of the law. Sheer madness. You’re a 20 year-old university coed, and you think, really believe, that the American taxpayer should bear the cost of your reproductive choices. Major screw loose.
Bear in mind, you dare not confuse customary insanity with criminal behavior. Evildoers are the sanest of people. They don’t make a move that isn’t calculated, aimed at illegally taking control, taking property or taking lives. Predators must be organized — clinical and pragmatic to the extreme. Serial killers are more methodical than your favorite financial analyst. On the insanity polygraph, evildoer scores rarely exceed the level of 1. You know who these people are. They know who they are and they don’t care that you know who they are. They come in all sizes, colors, genders, races and economic classes. The most famous of these evildoers reside in Washington DC, laughably the place designed to reflect the Nation’s highest ideals. But you know predators inhabit every nook and cranny of this great land — corporate boardrooms and back alleys, city highways and country lanes, posh neighborhoods and decaying slums. You must admit you have a grudging admiration for those beasts who risk their lives in the pursuit of plunder. It’s an “honest” living. Conversely, you reserve your most extreme loathing for criminal politicians who abuse the public trust and go to any length to gain power, influence and money. These are people who get away with murder behind the cloak of respectability. Insanity can be treated. Evil is incurable.
The overwhelming majority of people don’t know who the man is, never heard of him. Colin Kaepernick has the good fortune to live in a free country where his talent and work ethic allow him to earn millions of dollars playing professional football for a Left Coast team named the San Francisco 49ers. But Kaepernick doesn’t like or respect America. He decided not to honor her flag by standing at team events. He recently said: “. . . . .I am not going to stand up to show pride in a flag for a country that oppresses black people and people of color . . . . . to me, this is bigger than football and it would be selfish on my part to look the other way. There are bodies in the street and people getting paid leave and getting away with murder. . . .” All you know about this guy is what you read about him. You know he’s the product of mixed race germination, adopted and raised by white “parents.” It seems reasonable to assume he sees himself as a person “of color.” It seems reasonable to believe he sees himself as a person of courage, willing to publicly stand on principle by refusing to stand for a flag that represents oppression. It’s at times like this you vow to study witchcraft. But, realistically, you must be satisfied with imposing a juvenile curse. You hope Kaepernick fractures a leg on the first play of the new season, ending his football career. True, he might forever miss the thrill of victories but never again would he suffer the agony of flag waving ceremonies. There’s no doubt you will be condemned for this harsh, if not vicious, judgment. Fair enough. You happily accept any assault in honor of the men and women who fell defending the very flag that grants this overgrown bum the freedom to play a game in America for money. At least Kaepernick’s out in the open. He’s the face of the new generation — the Spoiled Rotten, Dumb Generation. He denounces a “country” for oppressing people like himself — people of color. Since the “country” is “the people,” you must conclude he’s denouncing people who have “no color;” ergo, white people. Maybe he didn’t want to call out white people by name because that would offend the NFL minorities — the white players. Regardless, you have a message for this millennial role model. The “country” has been in the hands of a “man of color” for eight years. His chief law enforcement officer and many other top aides are “people of color.” At least 50 cities with populations exceeding 50,000 have Mayors of Color, including Philadelphia, Atlanta, Detroit, San Francisco, New Orleans, Washington DC, Baltimore, Charlotte, Jacksonville, Cleveland, Columbus, Oakland and Newark. According to the FBI, non-whites (“people of color”) commit 90% of all violent crime. http://newobserveronline.com/90-nonwhite-violent-crime-rate-fbi/. Yes, African Americans bodies are lying in the streets and African Americans happen to be the killers putting them there. Now you have a message for the 49er organization that offered this public statement: “In respecting . . . freedom of religion and freedom of expression, we recognize the right of an individual to choose and participate, or not, in our celebration of the national anthem.” Shame on you. Shame on you for disregarding and dishonoring your fans as well as millions of other American families who understand what the American flag represents. And shame on gutless owner Jed York for besmirching his family’s rich legacy. Such is the debility of lucky sperm. The 49ers had the right to free speech, as well. They could have and should have sent a proper message: “No comment.” But their message and your message have no consequence. The only message that counts belongs to the players — the 49er players and the players of 31 other teams. You hope they send a message that sends Colin Kaepernick packing. You hope they send it soon. Make it the very first play from scrimmage.