The Animosity Train.

The popular phrase is “tipping point.” It means some issue or some situation crosses a threshold that changes it dramatically and unalterably — when it reaches the point of no return. Something tells you that the families and friends of slain policemen in Dallas and Baton Rouge are well past that point. They now live tormented by grief and overwhelmed by anger, and perhaps hate. Meanwhile, millions of other people are delighted and vindicated by cop killings. You can almost hear the voices, saying, “It serves you right; now you know how it feels . . .” The President of the United States of course was obligated to deplore the violence in his typically cool, detached manner. Other leaders offer their condolences. Memorial services provide recognition and attempt to soothe and placate the aggrieved. And from every pulpit and behind every microphone, you hear the ubiquitous calls for unity, for community outreach, for understanding the motives of those who feel compelled to commit atrocities. You hear sermons and lectures, explaining that only a small minority of radicals are militant, that you must temper your anger and seek cooperation, that you must avoid the blame game. In other words, at all cost, in the spirit of PC, you must avoid The Truth. There are things you simply shouldn’t say unless you’re willing to risk being slammed and labeled a racist. For instance, you can’t say that America is in the midst of a Race War. You would be attacked for saying  that Barack Obama is personally responsible for the Race War; or that since the day he took office, his policies, rhetoric and behavior have spawned a culture of hate and envy. If that allegation were true, why that would mean he’s personally responsible for the assassination of police officers and innocent civilians. Someone might even suggest he has blood on his hands. You can’t say that, anymore than you can accuse the African American Community for permitting a culture of ignorance, violence, promiscuity, dependence and racism. You must be sensitive to the fallout from this type of harsh, combative language. Further, when you defy or impeach Islam, you do nothing but spark further malice; therefore, never, ever, condemn the peaceful adherents of Islam by insinuating that their submissive silence facilitates a reign of terror. My goodness, that sort of recrimination might be misunderstood as belligerent. Therefore, in the spirit of moderation and indulgence, you appeal to the facts of rational thought. No credible evidence suggests that violence will recede; rather, it will escalate, as racial factions like Black Lives Matter advance their agenda. Likewise, Islamic terrorism  will continue its global march. Barack Obama will vacate the White House in a few months, leaving behind his major legacy — a prideful country torn asunder.  If the American people have appreciated the Obama years, they can experience more of the same with Clinton II. She has promised them as much.  With her, the animosity train would roll merrily along, unimpeded. She would happily drive that train if the American people let her. Make no mistake. The Tipping Point is in their hands.

Barefaced.

Spotting an accomplished phony isn’t all that easy. But you think most people disagree with that opinion. You think most people believe they can smell a scam and see right through the smoke and mirrors. They walk into car dealerships fully prepared to match wits with the false fronts and sweet talk. They sit with financial planners, attorneys, bankers, insurance agents and all manner of tradesmen, ever watchful for the snow job and the song and dance. They’re accustomed to hearing politicians pile on the bull, then flushing all of it in a matter of seconds. . . at least, until this election. Never have two candidates been more barefaced. The audacious Donald Trump is too cocky and conceited to tell a lie, and Hillary Clinton is too unclean and defective to tell the truth. Both of them — utterly transparent. Hillary’s most ardent supporters have no illusions about their champion’s shifty, sinister behavior. They know she’s a supervillain; but, c’mon, she’s their very own supervillain. She could stand on any stage and yell,”Read my lips, you idiots, I’m lying and I’m proud of it.” Instead, in a carefully modulated tone, like all expert con artists, she lies calmly, sounding so very balanced, so very reasonable, so very caring, so very unifying, so very conscientious. Women love her for the most lofty and intellectual of all reasons — she’s a woman. Duh! African Americans love her because incomprehensible stupidity has become a habit of people who ironically hate being called inferior. Wall Street and the Banking Industry love her because Big Government and Big Money, like the world’s oldest profession, shack up every day in a frolicking pay for play scheme. The Federal Bureaucracy, the Teacher’s Unions, the Attorneys, the National Non-Profits, the Insurance Industry, the Illegal Immigrants, the Puerile Millennials, the Climate Change Brigade and Higher Education Scholars — all love her because they love riding the Gravy Train Express. And you must never forget the true blue Democrats who would vote for Freddy Kruger before they would back any vile Republican. With apologies to Freddy, Trump could be the Democrat’s worst nightmare. He doesn’t greet his audience like Homer Stokes, to ask, “Is you or is you ain’t my constituency?” Trump in fact has no defined constituency. The Republican Establishment continuously wrings its anxious hands in mourning, refusing to embrace this loutish outsider. Evangelicals, faithful to principles of morality, decency, marriage and fidelity, fall on bent knee to rationalize how they could possibly support a flawed candidate. The Tea Party faithful wait impatiently for the Queens billionaire to wear the  Cape of Absolute Conservatism. They wait in vain. In the spirit of domestic abuse, women of every stripe struggle with insults from the big, white, rich dude whose style screams “BULLY.” Unflinching, Trump takes the stage to tell the unvarnished truth, as if to  say, “Look, folks, I really don’t care if you like me or not.” Unlike his rival, he speaks off the cuff, unmodulated, unbalanced, at times unreasonable, and accused of being uncaring and divisive. There you have it. Two candidates. One who has a dozen pledged constituencies carefully secured in her rather generous hip pocket. The other who has not one constituency to offset something else he does have — the overt hostility of Media, Wall Street and the Beltway Establishment. Yet, just today, respected pollsters say the race may be a dead heat. Surely, this announcement must be faulty. If not, there can be only one explanation. You misspoke. Contrary to your assertion, Trump  does indeed have a constituency, unnamed and ignored by media and political pundits — that constituency is America’s Middle Class, that sizable group of people who have been kicked to the side of the road and forgotten by the Obama administration. Clinton draws her primary support from the top — the wealthy crony class that sucks voraciously at the teat of Big Government; and from the bottom — the so-called poor class that spends a lifetime embracing victimization and dependency. The middle class doesn’t know much about either  riches or dependency. These are the small business owner, the sole proprietor, the tradesman, the nurse, the farmer, the doctor, the engineer, the caregiver — millions of unappreciated slugs who, without fanfare or recognition, work every single day, pay taxes, and support their communities and families. These are the independent, unsung heroes that politicians fear most. If Trump has an army, this is it. Blow the bugle.

Tyranny’s Perfect Storm.

It happens to everyone now and then. Something pops inside your head and you don’t know how or why you remembered it. This time it was Lucilla’s speech from Gladiator, echoing over and over. “Is Rome worth one good man’s life? We believed it once. Make us believe it again. He was a soldier of Rome. Honor him.” Of course, all along you knew why it was on your mind. You were thinking of your home — America — nostalgically, patriotically, emotionally — a divinely inspired country, preserved and defended with the blood, sweat and tears of patriots who loved her and love her still. On November 6, 2012, you went to the polls assured that Americans would not, could not, give Barack Obama a second term. The evidence of his failure and the country’s decline was so profound, you knew Americans would come to their senses and reject any further erosion of their shining city. You were wrong. Instead, they rejected their country — Her founding principles, Her heart and Her soul. For the first time in a lifetime, you considered the unthinkable — that the majority of Americans might neither love nor respect the precepts and articles of faith that created and sustained the American miracle. Four years later, that concern was upheld with the final blast of an abuse you will now name Tyranny’s Perfect Storm. Prior to this week, Congress repeatedly shirked its duty in the face of Executive overreach. Prior to this week, the Supreme Court shirked its duty by repeatedly legislating from the bench. Prior to this week, America’s Media Establishment continually betrayed its most sacred obligation to defend the Truth. Prior to this week, the Democrat Party endorsed the presidential candidacy of Hillary Clinton, an individual who for decades has sown the seeds of deceit, duplicity and dishonor. And most oppressively, this week, the final killer wind blew, when the FBI shirked its solemn duty and trampled the Rule Of Law. This week the FBI ripped the blindfold from the face of Lady Justice to tell all Americans that Justice is not blind — that our elected officials — the people in power — the people we empower with a sacred trust — are above the Law. This week, you bade goodbye to the Rule of Law, the last line of defense against totalitarianism. America’s Founders knew the risks, if not the likelihood, of government corruption. Some predicted it. In the clearest language, they endorsed the people’s right to throw off the shackles of tyranny:

. . . . when a long trail of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security.

You entertain a fantasy. It’s November 8, 2016. In the heartland, America’s great coliseum soars, every seat filled, every eye fixed on the arena floor. There, Lady Justice stands, head raised to the heavens. Her right hand grips a broad sword; her left arm raised high  holds the Scales of Justice. Her strong voice reverberates amid the concrete canyons and beyond: “Is America worth good men’s lives? We believed it once. Make us believe it again. They were soldiers of the United States. Honor them.” Will Americans come together to stand at the gate? You desperately want to believe.

America! America!
God mend thine every flaw,
Confirm thy soul in self-control,
Thy liberty in law.

The ranting and raving of critical Dick.