The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2013 annual report for this blog.
Here’s an excerpt:
The Louvre Museum has 8.5 million visitors per year. This blog was viewed about 160,000 times in 2013. If it were an exhibit at the Louvre Museum, it would take about 7 days for that many people to see it.
As I was doing research for the Duck Dynasty story, (CLICK HERE FOR REVIEW) I ran across an extremely well done video remake of the “Legs” video, by ZZ Top. I thought the video remarkable not for the pornographic nature of it but the content. In it a young man enters a lair of beautiful women situated in various provocative poses. Scattered throughout are other young men who appear to have coupled with some of the women, but the young man does not stop and linger on any of the girls. Instead, he proceeds on until he finds the ultimate beauty which is the apparent object of his quest. For me the video represents the best I have seen on YouTube during the year of 2013. Upon watching it I was immediately reminded of the story the King of Erin and the Lady of Tubber Tintye.
I have told the story of the Lady of Tubber Tintye to my entire family, particularly the women. It is the classic goddess motif summed up within a story of a typical hero adventure. Yet it is so precisely told as to the psychological problem that young men all share and how all societies fundamentally function that I think it has tremendous merit. I ran into the story through my studies of Joseph Campbell, and over the years have argued with several feminists—who went on to write their doctorial thesis on this story as evidence that feminism rules the universe. Only most of them missed the point of the story. Feminists tend to cherry pick the academic observations of people like Campbell who translated generations of mythological tales into the lens of progressive interpretation—which destroys the nature of the story—which was the point of the doctorial thesis interpretations. So what I’d like to do is present to you Dear Reader the story of Tubber Tintye and the King of Erin, then at the end I’ll explain what’s going on and how it applies to that ZZ Top video. The sum of that explanation has the power to restore our society and is not to be taken lightly, or brushed off carelessly as didactic pornography. I will highlight in bold below the passage of the story as it most applies to the aforementioned video. Then I will break down how this metaphor has a direct impact on our current society. Please take the time to read this carefully. It’s very important.
The King of Erin and the Queen of the Lonesome Island
THERE was a king in Erin long ago, and this king went out hunting one day, but saw nothing till near sunset, when what should come across him but a black pig.
“Since I’ve seen nothing all day but this black pig, I’II be at her now,” said the king; so he put spurs to his horse and raced after the pig.
When the pig was on a hill he was in the valley behind her; when he was on a hill, the pig was in the valley before him. At last they came to the sea-side, and the pig rushed out into the deep water straight from the shore. The king spurred on his horse and followed the black pig through the sea till his horse failed under him and was drowned.
Then the king swam on himself till he was growing weak, and said: “It was for the death of me that the black pig came in my way.”
But he swam on some distance yet, till at last he saw land. The pig went up on an island; the king too went on shore, and said to himself: “Oh! it is for no good that I came here; there is neither house nor shelter to be seen.” But he cheered up after a while, walked around, and said: “I’m a useless man if I can’t find shelter in some place.”
After going on a short space he saw a great castle in a valley before him. When he came to the front of the castle he saw that it had a low door with a broad threshold all covered with sharp-edged razors, and a low lintel of long-pointed needles. The path to the castle was covered with gravel of gold. The king came up, and went in with a jump over the razors and under the needles. When inside he saw a great fire on a broad hearth, and said to himself, ” I’ll sit down here, dry my clothes, and warm my body at this fire.”
As he sat and warmed himself, a table came out before him with every sort of food and drink, without his seeing any one bring it.
“Upon my honor and power,” said the king of Erin, “there is nothing bad in this! I’ll eat and drink my fill.”
Then he fell to, and ate and drank his fill. When he had grown tired, he looked behind him, and if he did he saw a fine room, and in it a bed covered with gold. ” Well,” said he, ” I’ll go back and sleep in that bed a while, I ‘m so tired.”
He stretched himself on the bed and fell asleep. In the night he woke up, and felt the presence of a woman in the room. He reached out his hand towards her and spoke, but got no answer; she was silent.
When morning came, and he made his way out of the castle, she spread a beautiful garden with her Druidic spells over the island, – so great that though he travelled through it all day he could not escape from it. At sunset he was back at the door of the castle; and in he went over the razors and under the needles, sat at the fire, and the table came out before him as on the previous evening. He ate, drank, and slept on the bed; and when he woke in the night, there was the woman in the room but she was silent and unseen as before.
When he went out on the second morning the king of Erin saw a garden three times more beautiful than the one of the day before. He travelled all day, but could not escape, – could not get out of the garden. At sunset he was back at the door of the castle; in he went over the razors and under the needles, ate, drank, and slept, as before.
In the middle of the night he woke tip, and felt the presence of the woman in the room. “Well,” said he, “it is a wonderful thing for me to pass three nights in a room with a woman, and not see her nor know who she is!”
“You won’t have that to say again, king of Erin,” answered a voice. And that moment the room was filled with a bright light, and the king looked upon the finest woman he had ever seen.
Well, king of Erin, you are on LonesomeIsland. I am the black pig that enticed you over the land and through the sea to this place, and I am queen of LonesomeIsland. My two sisters and I are under a Druidic spell, and we cannot escape from this spell till your son and mine shall free us. Now, king of Erin, I will give you a boat to-morrow morning, and do you sail away to your own kingdom.”
In the morning she went with him to the sea-shore to the boat. The king gave the prow of the boat to the sea, and its stern to the land; then he raised the sails, and went his way. The music he had was the roaring of the wind with the whistling of eels, and he broke neither oar nor mast till he landed under his own castle in Erin.
Three quarters of a year after, the queen of Lonesome Island gave birth to a son. She reared him with care from day-to-day and year to year till he was a splendid youth. She taught him the learning of wise men one half of the day, and warlike exercises with Druidic spells the other half.
One time the young man, the prince of Lonesome Island, came in from hunting, and found his mother sobbing and crying.
“Oh! what has happened to you, mother? ” he asked.
“My son, great grief has come on me. A friend of mine is going to be killed to-morrow.”
“Who is he?
“The king of Erin. The king of Spain has come against him with a great army. He wishes to sweep him and his men from the face of the earth, and take the kingdom himself.”
“Well, what can we do? If I were there, I’d help the king of Erin.”
Since you say that, my son, I’ll send you this very evening. With the power of my Druidic spells, you’ll be in Erin in the morning.”
The prince of Lonesome Island went away that night, and next morning at the rising of the sun he drew up his boat under the king’s castle in Erin. He went ashore, and saw the whole land black with the forces of the king of Spain, who was getting ready to attack the king of Erin and sweep him and his men from the face of the earth.
The prince went straight to the king of Spain, and said, ” I ask one day’s truce.”
“You shall have it, my champion,” answered the king of Spain.
The prince then went to the castle of the king of Erin, and stayed there that day as a guest. Next morning early he dressed himself in his champion’s array, and, taking his nine-edged sword, he went down alone to the king of Spain, and, standing before him, bade him guard himself.
They closed in conflict, the king of Spain with all his forces on one side, and the prince of Lonesome Island on the other, They fought an awful battle that day from sunrise till sunset. They made soft places hard, and hard places soft; they made high places low, and low places high; they brought water out of the centre of hard gray rocks, and made dry rushes soft in the most distant parts of Erin till sunset; and when the sun went down, the king of Spain and his last man were dead on the field.
Neither the king of Erin nor his forces took part in the battle. They had no need, and they had no chance.
Now the king of Erin had two sons, who were such cowards that they hid themselves from fright during the battle; but their mother told the king of Erin that her elder son was the man who had destroyed the king of Spain and all his men.
There was great rejoicing and a feast at the castle of the king of Erin. At the end of the feast the queen said: ” I wish to give the last cup to this stranger who is here as a guest; ” and taking him to an adjoining chamber which had a window right over the sea, she seated him in the open window and gave him a cup of drowsiness to drink. When he had emptied the cup and closed his eyes, she pushed him out into the darkness.
The prince of Lonesome Island swam on the water for four days and nights, till he came to a rock in the ocean, and there he lived for three months, eating the seaweeds of the rock, till one foggy day a vessel came near and the captain cried out: ” We shall be wrecked on this rock! ” Then he said, “There is some one on the rock; go and see who it is.”
They landed, and found the prince, his clothes all gone, his body black from the seaweed, which was growing all over it.
“Who are you? ” asked the captain.
“Give me first to eat and drink, and then I’ll talk,” said he.
They brought him food and drink; and when he had eaten and drunk, the prince said to the captain: “What part of the world have you come from?
“I have just sailed from Lonesome Island,” said the captain. “I was obliged to sail away, for fire was coming from every side to burn my ship.”
“Would you like to go back?”
“I should indeed.”
“Well, turn around; you’ll have no trouble if I am with you.”
The captain returned. The queen of Lone-some Island was standing on the shore as the ship came in.
“Oh, my child!” cried she, ” why have you been away so long?”
The queen of Erin threw me into the sea after I had kept the head of the king of Erin on him, and saved her life too.
“Well, my son, that will come up against the queen of Erin on another day.”
Now, the prince lived on Lonesome Island three years longer, till one time he came home from hunting, and found his mother wringing her hands and shedding bitter tears.
“Oh! what has happened?” asked he.
“I am weeping because the king of Spain has gone to take vengeance on the king of Erin for the death of his father, whom you killed.”
“Well, mother, I’ll go to help the king of Erin, if you give me leave.”
“Since you have said it, you shall go this very night.”
He went to the shore. Putting the prow of his bark to the sea and her stern to land, he raised high the sails, and heard no sound as he went but the pleasant wind and the whistling of eels, till he pulled up his boat next morning under the castle of the king of Erin and went on shore.
The whole country was black with the troops of the king of Spain, who was just ready to attack, when the prince stood before him, and asked a truce till next morning.
“That you shall have, my champion,” answered the king. So there was peace for that day.
Next morning at sunrise, the prince faced the king of Spain and his army, and there followed a struggle more terrible than that with his father; but at sunset neither the king of Spain nor one of his men was left alive.
The two sons of the king of Erin were frightened almost to death, and hid during the battle, so that no one saw them or knew where they were. But when the king of Spain and his army were destroyed, the queen said to the king: ” My elder son has saved us.” Then she went to bed, and taking the blood of a chicken in her mouth, spat it out, saying: “This is my heart’s blood; and nothing can cure me now but three bottles of water from Tubber Tintye, the flaming well.”
When the prince was told of the sickness of the queen of Erin, he came to her and said: ” I’ll go for the water if your two sons will go with me.”
“They shall go,” said the queen; and away went the three young men towards the East, in search of the flaming well.
In the morning they came to a house on the roadside; and going in, they saw a woman who had washed herself in a golden basin which stood before her. She was then wetting her head with the water in the basin, and combing her hair with a golden comb. She threw back her hair, and looking at the prince, said: ” You are welcome, sister’s son. What is on you? Is it the misfortune of the world that has brought you here?”
“It is not; I am going to Tubber Tintye for three bottles of water.”
“That is what you’ll never do; no man can cross the fiery river or go through the enchantments around Tubber Tintye. Stay here with me, and I’ll give you all I have.”
“No, I cannot stay, I must go on.”
“Well, you’ll be in your other aunt’s house tomorrow night, and she will tell you all.”
Next morning, when they were getting ready to take the road, the elder son of the queen of Erin was frightened at what he had heard, and said:
“I am sick; I cannot go farther.”
“Stop here where you are till I come back,” said the prince. Then he went on with the younger brother, till at sunset they came to a house where they saw a woman wetting her head from a golden basin, and combing her hair with a golden comb. She threw back her hair, looked at the prince, and said: “You are welcome, sister’s son! What brought you to this place? Was it the misfortune of the world that brought you to live under Druidic spells like me and my sisters?” This was the elder sister of the queen of the Lonesome Island.
“No,” said the prince; “I am going to Tubber Tintye for three bottles of water from the flaming well.”
“Oh, sister’s son, it’s a hard journey you ‘re on! But stay here to-night; to-morrow morning I’ll tell you all.”
In the morning the prince’s aunt said: “The queen of the Island of Tubber Tintye has an enormous castle, in which she lives. She has a countless army of giants, beasts, and monsters to guard the castle and the flaming well. There are thousands upon thousands of them, of every form and size. When they get drowsy, and sleep comes on them, they sleep for seven years without waking. The queen has twelve attendant maidens, who live in twelve chambers. She is in the thirteenth and innermost chamber herself. The queen and the maidens sleep during the same seven years as the giants and beasts. When the seven years are over, they all wake up, and none of them sleep again for seven other years. If any man could enter the castle during the seven years of sleep, he could do what he liked. But the island on which the castle stands is girt by a river of fire and surrounded by a belt of poison-trees.”
The aunt now blew on a horn, and all the birds of the air gathered around her from every place under the heavens, and she asked each in turn where it dwelt, and each told her; but none knew of the flaming well, till an old eagle said: ” I left Tubber Tintye to-day.”
“How are all the people there? ” asked the aunt.
“They are all asleep since yesterday morning,” answered the old eagle.
The aunt dismissed the birds; and turning to the prince, said, ” Here is a bridle for you. Go to the stables, shake the bridle, and put it on whatever horse runs out to meet you.”
Now the second son of the queen of Erin said:
“I am too sick to go farther.”
“Well, stay here till I come back,” said the prince, who took the bridle and went out.
The prince of the Lonesome Island stood in front of his aunt’s stables, shook the bridle, and out came a dirty, lean little shaggy horse.
“Sit on my back, son of the king of Erin and the queen of Lonesome Island,” said the little shaggy horse.
This was the first the prince had heard of his father. He had often wondered who he might be, but had never heard who he was before.
He mounted the horse, which said: ” Keep a firm grip now, for I shall clear the river of fire at a single bound, and pass the poison-trees; but if you touch any part of the trees, even with a thread of the clothing that’s on you, you’ll never eat another bite; and as I rush by the end of the castle of Tubber Tintye with the speed of the wind, you must spring from my back through an open window that is there; and if you don’t get in at the window, you ‘re done for. I’ll wait for you outside till you are ready to go back to Erin.”
The prince did as the little horse told him. They crossed the river of fire, escaped the touch of the poison-trees, and as the horse shot past the castle, the prince sprang through the open window, and came down safe and sound inside.
The whole place, enormous in extent, was filled with sleeping giants and monsters of sea and land, – great whales, long slippery eels, bears, and beasts of every form and kind. The prince passed through them and over them till he came to a great stairway. At the head of the stairway he went into a chamber, where he found the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, stretched on a couch asleep. ” I’II have nothing to say to you,” thought he, and went on to the next; and so he looked into twelve chambers. In each was a woman more beautiful than the one before. But when he reached the thirteenth chamber and opened the door, the flash of gold took the sight from his eyes. He stood a while till the sight came back, and then entered. In the great bright chamber was a golden couch, resting on wheels of gold. The wheels turned continually; the couch went round and round, never stopping night or day. On the couch lay the queen of Tubber Tintye; and if her twelve maidens were beautiful, they would not be beautiful if seen near her. At the foot of the couch was Tubber Tintye itself, – the well of fire. There was a golden cover upon the well, and it went around continually with the couch of the queen.
“Upon my word,” said the prince, “I’ll rest here a while.” And he went up on the couch, and never left it for six days and nights.
On the seventh morning he said, ” It is time for me now to leave this place.” So he came down and filled the three bottles with water from the flaming well. In the golden chamber was a table of gold, and on the table a leg of mutton with a loaf of bread; and if all the men in Erin were to eat for a twelvemonth from the table, the mutton and the bread would be in the same form after the eating as before.
The prince sat down, ate his fill of the loaf and the leg of mutton, and left them as he had found them. Then he rose up, took his three bottles, put them in his wallet, and was leaving the chamber, when he said to himself: “It would be a shame to go away without leaving something by which the queen may know who was here while she slept.” So he wrote a letter, saying that the son of the king of Erin and the queen of the Lonesome Island had spent six days and nights in the golden chamber of Tubber Tintye, had taken away three bottles of water from the flaming well, and had eaten from the table of gold. Putting this letter under the pillow of the queen, he went out, stood in the open window, sprang on the back of the lean and shaggy little horse, and passed the trees and the river unharmed.
When they were near his aunt’s house, the horse stopped, and said: ” Put your hand into my ear, and draw out of it a Druidic rod; then cut me into four quarters, and strike each quarter with the rod. Each one of them will become the son of a king, for four princes were enchanted and turned into the lean little shaggy horse that carried you to Tubber Tintye. When you have freed the four princes from this form you can free your two aunts from the spell that is on them, and take them with you to Lonesome Island.”
The prince did as the horse desired; and straightway four princes stood before him, and thanking him for what he had done, they departed at once, each to his own kingdom.
The prince removed the spell from his aunts, and, travelling with them and the two sons of the queen of Erin, all soon appeared at the castle of the king.
When they were near the door of their mother’s chamber, the elder of the two sons of the queen of Erin stepped up to the prince of Lonesome Island, snatched the three bottles from the wallet that he had at his side, and running up to his mother’s bed, said:
“Here, mother, are the three bottles of water which I brought you from Tubber Tintye.”
“Thank you, my son; you have saved my life,” said she.
The prince went on his bark and sailed away with his aunts to Lonesome Island, where he lived with his mother seven years.
When seven years were over, the queen of Tubber Tintye awoke from her sleep in the golden chamber; and with her the twelve maidens and all the giants, beasts, and monsters that slept in the great castle.
When the queen opened her eyes, she saw a boy about six years old playing by himself on the floor. He was very beautiful and bright, and he had gold on his forehead and silver on his poll. When she saw the child, she began to cry and wring her hands, and said: ” Some man has been here while I slept.”
Straightway she sent for her Seandallglic (old blind sage), told him about the child, and asked:
“What am I to do now?”
The old blind sage thought a while, and then said: “Whoever was here must be a hero; for the child has gold on his forehead and silver on his poll, and he never went from this place without leaving his name behind him. Let search be made, and we shall know who he was.”
Search was made, and at last they found the letter of the prince under the pillow of the couch. The queen was now glad, and proud of the child.
Next day she assembled all her forces, her giants and guards; and when she had them drawn up in line, the army was seven miles long from van to rear. The queen opened through the river of fire a safe way for the host, and led it on till she came to the castle of the king of Erin. She held all the land near the castle, so the king had the sea on one side, and the army of the queen of Tubber Tintye on the other, ready to destroy him and all that he had. The queen sent a herald for the king to come down.
“What are you going to do?” asked the king when he came to her tent. “I have had trouble enough in my life already, without having more of it now.”
“Find for me,” said the queen, “the man who came to my castle and entered the golden chamber of Tubber Tintye while I slept, or I’ll sweep you and all you have from the face of the earth.
The king of Erin called down his elder son, and asked: ” Did you enter the chamber of the queen of Tubber Tintye?”
“I did.”
“Go, then, and tell her so, and save us.”
He went; and when he told the queen, she said:
“If you entered my chamber, then mount my gray steed.”
He mounted the steed; and if he did, the steed rose in the air with a bound, hurled him off his back, in a moment, threw him on a rock, and dashed the brains out of his head.
The king called down his second son, who said that he had been in the golden chamber. Then he mounted the gray steed, which killed him as it had his brother.
Now the queen called the king again, and said:
“Unless you bring the man who entered my golden chamber while I slept, I ‘II not leave a sign of you or anything you have upon the face of the earth.”
Straightway the king sent a message to the queen of Lonesome Island, saying: ” Come to me with your son and your two sisters!”
The queen set out next morning, and at sunset she drew up her boat under the castle of the king of Erin. Glad were they to see her at the castle, for great dread was on all.
Next morning the king went down to the queen of Tubber Tintye, who said: “Bring me the man who entered my castle, or I’ll destroy you and all you have in Erin this day.”
The king went up to the castle; immediately the prince of Lonesome Island went to the queen.
“Are you the man who entered my castle?” asked she.
“I don’t know,” said the prince.
“Go up now on my gray steed! ” said the queen.
He sat on the gray steed, which rose under him into the sky. The prince stood on the back of the horse, and cut three times with his sword as he went up under the sun. When he came to the earth again, the queen of Tubber Tintye ran over to him, put his head on her bosom, and said:
“You are the man.”
Now she called the queen of Erin to her tent, and drawing from her own pocket a belt of silk, slender as a cord, she said: ” Put this on.”
The queen of Erin put it on, and then the queen of Tubber Tintye said: ” Tighten, belt! ” The belt tightened till the queen of Erin screamed with pain. “Now tell me,” said the queen of Tubber Tintye, “who was the father of your elder son.”
“The gardener,” said the queen of Erin.
Again the queen of Tubber Tintye said:
“Tighten, belt! ” The queen of Erin screamed worse than before; and she had good reason, for she was cut nearly in two. ” Now tell me who was the father of your second son.”
“The big brewer,” said the queen of Erin.
Said the queen of Tubber Tintye to the king of Erin: ” Get this woman dead.”
The king put down a big fire then, and when it was blazing high, he threw the wife in, and she was destroyed at once.
Now do you marry the queen of Lonesome Island, and my child will be grandchild to you and to her,” said the queen of Tubber Tintye.
This was done, and the queen of Lonesome Island became queen of Erin and lived in the castle by the sea. And the queen of Tubber Tintye married the prince of Lonesome Island, the champion who entered the golden chamber while she slept.
Now the king of Erin sent ten ships with messages to all the kings of the world, inviting them to come to the wedding of the queen of Tubber Tintye and his son, and to his own wedding with the queen of Lonesome Island.
The queen removed the Druidic spells from her giants, beasts, and monsters; then went home, and made the prince of Lonesome Island king of Tubber
What is missing from our modern age is that the Lady of Tubber Tintye types, the goddesses of our society have been destroyed by feminism. The goal of such goddesses in tales such as this is to provoke in young men the ultimate prize. To apply this story to the ZZ Top video above, the hero protagonist could have stopped and engaged in sexual delight with any of the previous women of the Lady’s chamber, but he held out until he discovered the ultimate prize. However, along the way he witnessed many men had fallen for the women in the first few rooms—and those men were of lower quality. They had failed in their quest—and settled.
The modern progressive approach to this problem because not all women can be of a quality like the Lady of Tubber Tintye is to make them equal to the guys in the first few rooms—the failed ones who settled too easily and quickly for sexual gratification. If one were to break down the fundamental mentality of all progressive philosophy and how it directly applies to Common Core education, feminism, gay rights, and government statism—at the core of their approach is the destruction of such goddess symbols in our society.
The reason is that such women become matriarchs of their families and the destruction of family units are what progressives are after—so that the collective state will replace the matriarch and patriarch of the modern family. By removing the Tubber Tintye type women from culture, statists take away the incentive for strong-willed men to proceed along looking for the perfect sexual experience. By destroying the image of the goddess which most men yearn for—like the guy in the ZZ Top video—they force all men to settle with common women in the first few rooms with a kind of intellectual orgy arranged by progressives for their benefit.
I married a Lady of Tubber Tintye. She made me work hard for the bliss of her spinning couch. And because she did, I valued our relationship. And because I valued that relationship, the products of that union, the children, the nieces, the nephews, the in-laws, all the aspects of it have increased value because of my raised awareness of their importance—again brought forth by the struggle to resist the temptation to pick women from the first couple of rooms—the common girls who were only booby traps to hold intellectual pursuits suppressed with a sexual ecstasy that is conciliatory—not ecstatic. The tragedy is that not all women are qualified to be Lady’s of Tubber Tintye, just as all men are not qualified to be The Prince of Lonesome Island. But all men and all women should strive to be—even if they fall short. Because such struggles are what bring forth quality, higher quality people, higher quality relationships, and higher quality intellects. Through the struggle of existence—in this case of the Prince of Lonesome Island to seeking three bottles of water from a sacred well at Tubber Tintye, we solve the problems of living life.
Stories like this Tubber Tintye story have a level of sophistication that is not present in our current society. With all the tools available to the 21st Century human being—we are more asleep than ever, primarily because of the imposition that global politics has played through the progressive movement to redefine the roles that rest at the heart of social psychology. The political and social progressive is attempting to recreate the human mind and they are failing. The intention is to destroy the motive of individual achievement in favor of statism. Young men are discouraged from attempting to win their Lady of Tubber Tintyes by removing through feminism women who are capable of raising the level of society through their goddess power.
A woman does not have to be beautiful in the classic sense to be a Lady of Tubber Tintye. They may not have physical beauty. However, what is in their heart must compensate, and many women fall into this category. They may lack sexual prowess, but harness motherly care that husbands and children both yearn for. They may not be as beautiful as the women in the ZZ Top video, but are beautiful in other ways that cannot be photographed. For the sake of story, physical beauty is the proper metaphor for the kind of beauty that comes from such women.
I have yet to see an academic from any of the mainstream colleges, the Yale types, the Harvards, the Oxfords who can pass through a college professor gatekeeper an interpretation of that Tubber Tintye story without slanting it toward the modern interpretation of feminism as advanced through progressive theory. Just as progressives have done with the gay rights dialogue, they have attempted to capture the message by redefining the words. In the case of the Tubber Tintye story the definition of “goddess” has been changed by modern academia not to hold sexual superiority to men, and a boon to the world through phallic power achieved because of the desire to win a woman, but to make the woman the equalizer of all society—by making them equal to men. The men as they enter the various chambers of the Lady of Tubber Tintye mostly fall victim to the women of the first twelve rooms. They did not have the power in themselves to hold out until the last room where the golden lady resided. Most of the time they are like the Queen of Erin’s sons—cowards conceived out of adulterous lust and shameless value. This initiation process brought forth the trial and tribulations which allowed the young prince to solve the problems of his kingdom. Under modern progressive interpretation, the message to all women is to be one of the girls in the first rooms so there is no ultimate goal at the end on a golden couch. Make it easy for the men so they are all equal, and make it easy for all the other girls, since they are not goddesses, but only gate keepers to the ultimate prize.
Out of my hundreds of daily readers I am aware that only two or three will read this entire story—and understand what the purpose is. But for those two or three, I do the work because it is extremely important to understand. Without a firm understanding of these basic concepts, society will be destroyed and redefined by inferior minds built by the lazy good for nothings in the first few rooms of that ZZ Top video. The video itself was clearly done by filmmakers aware of this Tubber Tintye story. For commercial reasons it was done in a sexy way to entice viewers. However, the reason the visuals work on a primal level for males, and females is that they understand the story of Tubber Tintye from an innate appreciation of such stories. Most every young boy dreams of growing up and slaying dragons, and winning a woman like the one in the Tubber Tintye story. From the ages of 1 to 12 they all have a chance of hitting it big time with such a woman. However, once they begin to use sex as proof of their manhood they tend to make concessions and end up often with the kind of women in the first few rooms—airheads that look nice, but have little really going on behind the eyes. The men who jump at such women might find them in real society in brothels, escort services, strip joints, or ladder climbers at their places of business. If they take on those kinds of girls they’ll never reach their own version of the Lady of Tubber Tintye at the end of the long hall in the 13th room.
The job of all women is to attempt to become a Lady of Tubber Tintye, and not to settle in their lives into being one of the try-out girls on the way snagging up all the weak-minded men. The progressive movement is entirely about destroying the Lady of Tubber Tintye types so that no man has the option of one. In such an absence, personal kingdoms collapse to the will of statism and government can rule every individual mind as the sex obsessed must cohabitate with all the would be Prince of Lonesome Island. This story is my Christmas present to my readers—even though I know most people will not understand it. I have to try. Understanding this story is the key to the freedom movement and the proper restoration of the American family. Understanding this story will destroy progressivism and restore health to all world cultures—if only people would accept the root definitions of the role women have to a man’s mind, and how important that role is to the preservation of mankind. I’m not talking about a throwback to the times of the cowboy, or the 1950s, but the primal underpinnings of mythology that reside as far back as the first flicker of fire from an emerging Neanderthal.
If you are a woman, be the Lady of Tubber Tintye to your family. If you are a man, be the Prince of Lonesome Island. In the ZZ Top video, the protagonist is a modern Prince. Be that guy—and you will not only save yourself, your future family, but all of humanity by avoiding the easy girls in the first rooms of temptation. Save your energy for the Lady on the Golden Couch in the 13th room, because only she is worth the effort and that effort will save the world and everyone in it. The Lady of Tubber Tintye is Ariel from the film The Litter Mermaid, she is Princess Leia from Star Wars, she is Christine from Phantom of the Opera—she is every major character in every major story in the history of all stories. The Lady of Tubber Tintye is even Mia Wallace from the film Pulp Fiction—it doesn’t matter that she was a drug addict—she as the goddess who had the power to pull Vincent Vega into a place he had never considered going before. She is the Virgin Mary who brought Jesus into the world, or depending on religious conviction, she is Mary Magdallen who served as inspiration to stand up to the Pharisees in the darkest of times prior to his conviction and execution. Every major successful story has a Lady of Tubber Tintye—even in The Lord of the Rings where the female goddess image has been replaced metaphorically as The Shire, which is an actual place. Galadriel, Arwen, and Éowyn, serve as the typical goddess figures, Galadriel pulls the Hobbits together for the bravery needed for their quest, Arwen does the same for Aragorn and Eowyn performs this task for her entire kingdom ultimately saving her father from the treachery of Worm Tongue and the forces behind him. But the female goddess of Tubber Tintye is the actual Shire for the purposes of plot. All good stories have a Tubber Tintye character just as all good families do, and marriages. Without some goddess figures in the lives of the men, everything perishes—plot, motivation—even the willpower to get out of bed in the morning. Is it any wonder that so many young men cannot find the ambition to get up in the morning………..when sex is placed so easily before them in the first few rooms of their life—what is their to work for? The answer is nothing.
Men and women are not equal. They are different. Men need women to provide intended focus. Those who do not have women in their lives tend to drift through life unfocused and full of folly. On the other hand, women will look for many years and wait patiently for their own version of the Prince of the Lonely Island. Some go their entire lives continuing to look for him—even after they have long married and had children. Social pressure often pushes them into the arms of men they marry to please their parents, but their hearts are seldom in it. That was the story of Francesca Johnson from the novel The Bridges of Madison County which mysteriously sold over 50 million copies. The story featured a four-day affair with the noble character Robert Kincaid after years of marriage to a good man—but a common farmer not worthy of her healing power on the golden couch—not willing to take water out of a flaming well for anybody so long as the crops were ready for the state fair. More contemporarily, she is Anastasia “Ana” Steele the 21-year-old college senior attending Washington State University in Vancouver, Washington taming through sexual bondage the billionaire 27-year-old Christian Grey. All those stories feature a goddess figure that heals the world through her love and power. If that element is removed, the story falls flat nearly 100% of the time. And the results are absolutely no different in real life—when a strong female is not driving quality in her relationships, the world falls apart. She is different from men who do not have this power. Men have the power to slay dragons and wage war with each other—but women provide the context for the value in it. If the woman is corrupt, then the endeavor becomes corrupt. If the woman is righteous, such as in the Lady of Tubber Tintye—there is goodness for all as a direct byproduct of her effort.
These things cannot be escaped from—they are the rules of life. They cannot be willed from existence such as progressives hope to do with homosexual endorsements. Men and women cannot be made equal with hope and prayers. Such equality cannot be given through legislation. The desire for the Ladies of Tubber Tintye is deep in the heart of all people everywhere. It comes out in our oldest and newest stories and are legends for a reason. Stories that do a good job at capturing the latest Tubber Tintye version make millions of dollars not because of some trick, but because these are the stories that people crave to see—as there is a truth in those stories that cannot be reached any other way. The lesson, which is captured so eloquently in the ZZ Top “Legs” video, is that the message that still has the most power in our culture whether it be a movie, a song, or an ad for sunglasses—is the woman is the vehicle to reach some higher place. Get a better job get a better woman. Drive a better car, get a better woman. Dress nicely, get approval from better women. Put on cologne, and gain the attraction of better women. Goddess figure women are the dominate drivers of culture from selling jeans to automobiles. Advertisers who have experimented with more gender neutral images find that their sales plummet, because the world is driven by the image and promise of the Lady of Tubber Tintye. Women do not function from the same mentality. They know innately that they are trying to appeal to be that woman from the golden couch. They get their nails done hoping their men will work to appeal to them, their hair, their ear rings, their perfume, their diets—all in a hope of finding a Prince of the Lonesome Island who will seek their well of flaming water. If they are lucky women, they marry such Princes, but most don’t. They instead become bitter hags, school levy supporters, progressive bitches and detriments to all humanity. They spend billions of dollars a year to try to pretend they are Ladies of Tubber Tintye, but because of their poor decisions, are simply women of that first room—taken by the most impatient and weak men lacking the willpower to hold out for the best of the best—the woman on the Golden Couch spinning at the center of the world and the power that drives everything.
I could write a book about this topic and make a lot of money from it. If I wanted to, I could probably take this act on the road and do speaking engagements on the topic. But I offer it to those here with the gumption to read it for free. It is my hope that you Dear Reader will take the time to read and study all this and learn from it. If you do, the world can begin to solve some of its problems, and in the end—that’s all I want.
Rich Hoffman
A good friend of mine who sometimes opines here grew a long beard like the Duck Dynasty guys during an age when it was really unpopular. He was only 25 years old at the time so he looked oddly out-of-place everywhere he went—which was fine with me. I enjoyed his brand of rebellion, so the odd looks suited my entertainment. We’d go out to eat at a Wendy’s or McDonald’s, I’d have my hat on, he’d have his long flowing beard and people thought we stepped out of the Appalachian mountains while other people our age were dressing in the latest campus fashions. During the 90s nobody who lived near a city grew beards like that—only motorcycle riders, and mountain men. That guy was a genius level personality who wanted desperately to be a mountain man—but too many social entanglements prevented it at the time. So he grew a beard that would have made ZZ Top jealous. But after a while, he moved through that phase and decided to shave it off and go clean shaven—so he cut the thing off and hung it on a wall in his bathroom, fully intact. It was all woven together like someone had knitted it, and hung it in a mask like form on the wall next to his sink. My daughters were scared of using the restroom at his home because of that beard. They didn’t want to be in the same room with it.
So I have a little history with the type of people who are in the Duck Dynasty show. There are quite a few of them who live from Appalachia to Utah. They are quite common around Bristol, Tennessee, and can often be seen living in trailers in the middle of Idaho—living debt free and seeking no human entanglements. If a person were to go to the Sturgis motorcycle rally in South Dakota, a lot of those beards would be seen. They are as common as air in a place like that. But in New York and Los Angeles they are an anomaly. In those progressive cities, the European sensibilities have taken root from across both ponds, and people just don’t do those kinds of things. Rugged individualism is a concept of wonder that they cannot grasp, which is why a progressive cable channel like A&E put the Robertson family on television to begin with—as a kind of eccentric fascination that the folks on Brand, and Wilshire Blvd could gawk at and feel good about themselves. They had no idea they were tapping into a reservoir of unrepresented frustration experienced throughout the rest of the country. So I can see how they would be upset when A&E had to run up against the comments of Phil Robertson’s GQ interview about homosexual behavior—which represents most of the country’s opinion. The LGBT (lesbians, gays, bisexuals, and transvestites) community represents around 3% of the total American population, but as a lobby force—since they have made themselves the squeaky wheels—they have captured the interests of major corporations terrified of activism lawsuits, if discrimination is shown toward gay oriented people. So to prove corporations are open to all forms of living—so to avoid parasitic social shaping lawsuits, most corporations have come out in open acceptance of gay behavior—which was the reason for the aggressive action by the LGBT community regarding Phi Robertson.
Most corporate types lack any personal convictions—so they see no problem yielding to the LGBT community. It is good business to show acceptance to all lifestyles. Unfortunately for them, they are not very good at predicting content that the American people want—so they often happen across success by accident—which clearly was the case with the Duck Dynasty people. They are used to celebrities who have found fame and fortune bending to their will to keep the money train humming along—and that includes yielding to special interest advocates like the LGBT community. They are not used to celebrities like Phil Robertson who are functioning from an authenticity that is not for sale. People like Phil Robertson are who they are whether or not they are being paid millions of dollars for it—and at the heart of the recent controversy where Phil Robertson made his feelings about gay sex quite clear—is the collision of progressive politics, and authenticity—the kind of honesty that has made the popular A&E television show so fashionable among a very hungry public.
I know a bit about what Phil is going through. I know what’s it’s like to come across a progressive perception of things, and when told by the establishment to “apologize” and you don’t—but stick by your guns—which I will sum up at the end of this article. The reason Robertson is in trouble is because of the kind of beliefs he has expressed below. All of these issues are common observations from people in the flyover states, on the farms, the factories, and barber shops all across Middle America. It is for that reason that they tune in to watch Duck Dynasty, because to them somebody finally put on a show that speaks to them—instead of some coastal crap about hippie free love, reckless religious conviction, and overly emotional despots. The progressive establishment has worked hard to change the beliefs of people with an opposite message, which Phil Robertson exposed on episodes of their television show well before the recent gay remarks.
The below comments are excerpts from one of those insulted progressive types. Check them out:
Robertson thinks black Americans were treated just fine in the Jim Crow-era South, and that they were happy there. “I never, with my eyes, saw the mistreatment of any black person. Not once. Where we lived was all farmers. The blacks worked for the farmers. I hoed cotton with them. I’m with the blacks, because we’re white trash. We’re going across the field…. They’re singing and happy. I never heard one of them, one black person, say, ‘I tell you what: These doggone white people’—not a word!… Pre-entitlement, pre-welfare, you say: Were they happy? They were godly; they were happy; no one was singing the blues.”
- Robertson thinks the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor because they didn’t believe in Jesus. “All you have to do is look at any society where there is no Jesus. I’ll give you four: Nazis, no Jesus. Look at their record. Uh, Shintos? They started this thing in Pearl Harbor. Any Jesus among them? None. Communists? None. Islamists? Zero. That’s eighty years of ideologies that have popped up where no Jesus was allowed among those four groups. Just look at the records as far as murder goes among those four groups.”
Robertson hates gay people. Robertson in 2010: “Women with women, men with men, they committed indecent acts with one another, and they received in themselves the due penalty for their perversions. They’re full of murder, envy, strife, hatred. They are insolent, arrogant, God-haters. They are heartless, they are faithless, they are senseless, they are ruthless. They invent ways of doing evil.” Read more: http://www.businessinsider.com/when-you-defend-phil-robertson-heres-what-youre-really-defending-2013-12#ixzz2oCcXh1Rk
But more specifically, based on the GQ article, Phil said:
“It seems like, to me, a vagina — as a man — would be more desirable than a man’s anus,” he said. “That’s just me. I’m just thinking: There’s more there! She’s got more to offer. I mean, come on, dudes! You know what I’m saying?
http://radaronline.com/exclusives/2013/12/duck-dynasty-gay-gq-phil-robertson-homophobe-homosexual/
What’s wrong with that? It’s an opinion based on years of experience? Yet the LGBT community believes this kind of opinion should be attacked because it goes against their social agenda which is the erosion of traditional values. However, for a guy like me—that is an insult—when they attack traditional relationships with traditional sexual practices they are attacking me. Yet I don’t protest Madonna who was a major advocate of the LGBT community, or Hillary Clinton who does the same—even though they only represent a very small portion of the population. When Phil Robertson speaks, he’s stating what a guy like me is already thinking.
When the film Broke Back Mountain came out and those two mainstream actors had anal sex in a tent far away from their wives, then fell in love with each other, I tried to watch and accept the story because it was so critically appraised. But the unrealistic nature of the whole thing was inescapable. I’ve been on many camping trips and on those kinds of endeavors with other guys—those kinds of activities are not desirable. My wife and I never pass gas in front of each other, there is no belching at the Hoffman dinner table, and there are never, and I mean never, “toot jokes” in my home, or around me. Human gas is a part of the digestion process, but it is also disgusting. It belongs with the rest of human feces, somewhere out of site so that intellectual pursuits can be established. The sex engaged in during Broke Back Mountain is unrealistic. That would have made such a mess that the filth afterwards would have made their back country trip unbearably uncomfortable. Without a shower immediately afterwards the smell would be disgusting. When Phil Robertson was talking about a vagina over an anus he’s talking about this kind of thing. With a woman, you can make love on a beach, in the woods, on top of your house, and when you’re done you don’t have to take a shower or even change the sheets. You can just go to sleep. With anal sex, absolutely no way—somebody will be taking a shower as feces would be everywhere. For a gay couple to do such a thing then go to sleep afterwards it would be like having a dog that rolled in feces out in the yard jump in your bed in the middle of the night and leave behind all the yard waste into the sheets of slumber. It would not be a good thing. Human beings have perverted the sex act and used such an orifice with the assistance of modern lubricants that are very unnatural. Without access to such things, anal sex would be impossible unlike with a woman where once the engine is running, it takes care of itself.
I don’t even like to use the restroom on camping trips because it makes me feel dirty. Fecal matter is not an attractive attribute of human existence. The appeal of it is contrived, not natural—and for more people to experiment with it, the LGBT community needs people to participate in such sex out of rebellion against the establishment. What Phil Robertson did was expose what everyone else is already thinking—and when they heard it; it got them off the hook of guilt that the gay community tries to invoke in order to promote their life style. Many years ago I worked with a sexual deviant who shared a story with the same friend whom I referred to who grew the beard. We were salesman at a dealership and between sales there was a lot of time to talk. This guy and his wife were very adventurous sexually, and he’d tell us all about his latest escapades. (My friend will remember the guy—his name was Perry.) One thing he had done the previous night was have is wife defecate onto a sheet of glass that he put over his face so he could watch it drop out and plop against the barrier between him and his wife. I told him he was insanely disgusting and he’d laugh and say, “To each, his own.” He had a twisted sense of erotic behavior. For me the smell alone would have been it, let alone watching such a thing. For a gay couple, they would have to accept that kind of odor, and the byproducts of engagement. A small percentage of the population likely has their wires crossed like that guy and his wife—where like dogs, they like fecal matter. They have a right to like what they want, but I don’t want to know about it. It is their dysfunctional behavior, not mine—and that is my general feeling about the whole LGBT population.
The gay pride people are afraid of people coming to these logical conclusions because it will end their spread of the social relationships between a man and a woman in a traditional family which they seek to destroy. They have the same level of deceit that public schools have over their funding issues, or government has over its spending. Being typical Kant trained Keynesian economic theorists they believe that as long as they do not speak of evil, hear any evil, or participate in any evil through their own lack of recognition of any value judgment, that there is no evil. The LGBT community has the same approach, they want vagina sex to be equal to anal sex—and they aren’t, one stinks, and one doesn’t. But in order to propel that belief, they need society to remain suppressed, and stupid acting out of rebellion, instead of logic. Logic says that the dudes in Broke Back Mountain would have had to clean off their dip sticks somewhere after the act. They wouldn’t just be able to get on their horses and do a day’s worth of hard riding. Only a gay writer from Santa Monica could even think this was possible as he has countless gels and lotions next to his bed to disguise the odor. But in Broke Back Mountain, such things were not around, only human spittle—nothing else—and that is just gross.
The reason for the beard and the popularity of the Duck Dynasty is that the characters are speaking the language of a part of society that has been suppressed deeply. The explosion of popularity seen by the A&E show is the untapped potential that Hollywood has been trying to avoid so to propel a progressive agenda. Duck Dynasty is about authenticity, and little else. And that traditional authentic behavior is something that America is very hungry for. What happened after Phil Robertson made his comments was that the LGBT community saw a sleeping giant come to Phil’s defense, and that scares them. A&E thought a token suspension until everything cooled off would suffice, but it didn’t. The LGBT community tried to force the issue, Phil Robertson didn’t back down, and lines in the sand were drawn. Forty years of public relations work likely went out the window in the period of one week as a majority of America found themselves supporting Robertson, and rejecting the arguments of the LGBT community. What will be one of the most common Christmas presents in 2013? Likely, Duck Dynasty material. What will be the number one topic around Christmas dinner tables—likely the stand Phil Robertson took against the LGBT community. Without question, many people who try that whole back-door approach with their spouses find the whole thing a lot less appealing than the vagina. The LGBT community has sold the whole thing in such a way that it makes people want to try it—but the reality is disgusting. Phil Robertson just gave people who feel that way a pass to not try it—and that is what the LGBT community is terrified of. Their peer pressure has folded because the Duck Dynasty guys refused to back off their position against anal sex. Like the act itself, the concept has more appeal than the reality. In the end, everything comes out smelling bad—just like the movement by the LGBT community. And Americans don’t like things that stink.
Rich Hoffman
Doc Thompson and his radio partner Skip LeCombe stopped by Matt Clark’s WAAM broadcast in Ann Arbor, Michigan while filming a nationwide documentary on the Tea Party movement as it stands in 2013. I am scheduled to appear in that documentary so it is always fun when all these different elements combine in a rare broadcast interview with so many people who I work with at different levels. Doc reported to Matt about his preliminary findings as his film crew has scoured the country working for The Blaze under the guidance of Glenn Beck—and his feeling has been a good one. He is encouraged by the passion he is seeing from crowds of people everywhere he goes—and how upset they are at the state of the current government. The documentary is set for release around the second quarter of 2014, but you can listen to that interview below.
Doc works fast and loose these days—allowing his spontaneity to shine, which Glenn Beck is obviously tapping in to. Doc has been given under his employment at The Blaze free rein to fight on the liberty front not only on the radio, but in cross-country tours with public speaking engagements which are unprecedented. The Blaze has not held back in their support of Doc Thompson and Skip LeCombe—and the results are showing dramatically. It was out of this experience that the documentary about the Tea Party movement was born.
Most of the time during the first Revolution—the one in 1776, the patriots were always behind the much more powerful, and well-funded British. In this new Revolution—the one against progressivism and the tyranny of collectivist cultures parasitic in nature—the same holds true. The Tea Party patriots of 2013 are learning of the levels of deception they have been exposed to for a long time—and they have a bit of sticker shock. As each day moves past us, they are learning of more aspects of that sticker shock—so they are not yet acclimated to what needs to be done. But they are attending the many gatherings Doc has been conducting all over the nation. Since The Blaze hired Doc and Skip a year ago, I doubt there are more people with more frequent flyer miles than those two guys applied directly to the cause of liberty anywhere in the world.
Doc pointed out in his broadcast with Matt he had recently learned that during the Boston Tea Party of 1773 the patriots there did not sneak onto the British vessels in the secret of night covered by silence—the shores were littered with people watching—knowing full well what was going on. The people of Boston knew a Revolution was afoot and they were watching it unfold. Many people weren’t sure that success was even a possibility so they stood on the shore and watched others do the first work of the liberty movement which launched our country. Much the same thing is happening now, people are coming to Doc’s public speeches and they are watching from the shores of their own inner comfort level—not yet willing to cross the line and join the rebels—but they are thinking about it.
As bad as things appear today, at least the spirit of what traditional America has always been is slowly coming to the surface. A few years ago Doc Thompson was on the mainstream radio station 700 WLW and I was his frequent guest. I was living the kind of life where I could pick up the phone and speak to entertainment producers and mainstream press personal. Once it became known that Doc and I were not going to take the squishy middle position—and had convictions that we were willing to stand behind—even at the cost of personal career gain—we were both quickly blacklisted and exiled in much the same way that Glenn Beck was cast out of Fox News and Judge Napolitano was removed from his show on the Fox Business Channel. The same thing occurred during the first Revolution. Many of the people at the Boston Tea Party knew they would not be invited to any more British social engagements. They knew they would not be quoted in the British newspapers, and certainly would not be given safe passage to travel back to London for any visits. They knew they would be cast aside from the established society which was behaving in a tyrannical fashion. The people watching from the shore had not yet decided that they could handle being blacklisted from the English. They wanted to sell cloths to the British troops, wood for British ships, food to British soldiers, and needed to appear neutral in the conflicts so they could make a living for their families—yet they showed up in silence to watch the Boston Tea Party—their closed mouths their endorsement of the activity.
Doc and I knew what we were getting into. Doc was in fact married to the mainstream media. His wife Yuna Lee was the popular news anchor from Richmond, Virginia that many WashingtonD.C. employees comfortable from their suburban homes watched every night—and enjoyed. She fell in love with Doc and his rebellion and left behind her comfortable job to follow him to Cincinnati to take a job at Channel 2 in Dayton. This was prior to Doc’s blacklisting from Clear Channel where he was exiled blatantly in favor of radio personalities who were more “middle of the road.” Yuna is still very much a part of the establishment, but she is not one of the silent types standing on the edge of the shore during the Boston Tea Party. Rather, she is the wife who supports her husband and his travels all over the country in her own way—which gives him wind beneath his wings—doing the difficult job of being a front man for the liberty movement—where everyone you meet knows your sensibilities forcing them to make a hard decision. If they speak to you, or are caught doing so, they risk being blacklisted in their own businesses, churches, and social groups—and most people can’t handle that type of exile.
These are the silent costs of liberty—and the pursuit that brings it about. The same type of pressures existed in colonial times from the British Empire—and people behaved pretty much the same way. They supported the push for liberty—but feared letting their opinions become known because it might mean they could not make a living for their families—or might even be thrown in jail for dissention. Doc Thompson struggled for over a year to get a job after being tossed off the ship at 700 WLW and his career was at risk more than once—and his wife’s career who stood by her husband resiliently. So Doc has every reason in the world to be bitter—but he’s not—he’s hopeful. That is a very good indication of the state of the world. Doc stated on Matt’s show more or less that he knows he’s a member of the modern Tea Party, and he’s throwing over the barrels of tea into the metaphorical harbor. But he also sees the people on the shores watching curiously, and the numbers are much larger than the elements of statism would care to admit.
Without question it will be these elements which will make up the documentary that Doc and Skip are producing. The results will likely show the view of the Tea Party that nobody in the mainstream establishment cares to acknowledge. They blacklisted all the reminders in their social circles so that they wouldn’t have to see the reality of their actions—yet the inevitable course of their lives is about to intersect with that undeniable reality. The two ideologies, the one of statism, and the one of freedom are about to collide—it is inevitable—and it will be violent. It may not come to literal bloodshed, but lives will be destroyed as a result and the people who have been blacklisted—and made the decision to pursue that consequence ahead of time—have much less to lose. Those who are protecting their established order have everything to lose, which leaves them watching the Tea Party from the edges of the harbor—wanting to participate, but unwilling to make the commitment to become fugitives in doing so. But silently, they support the Tea Party—but fear saying so out loud because they aren’t willing to end their lives of comfort within the establishment—even though they root against it in the quite of their distance fantasies.
As much as many wish the Tea Party movement has fizzled out—they are sadly mistaken. All that has happened is that the most vocal voices, those like Doc’s, mine, Glenn Beck, Matt Clark and many others—have been blacklisted out of the mainstream in hopes that if the establishment does not see the problem—that it does not exist. But it does. It is this existence from which Doc and Skip’s new documentary will be focused, a new Liberty Tree where people gather to push for a new type of Boston Tea Party—one not so literal—but more allegorical. The new Liberty Tree is not an actual thing that the British can cut down this time to remove the symbol of freedom that it once represented—it is in the voice of people like Doc Thompson, Matt Clark, Skip LeCombe and their resilient efforts at freedom while the rest of the world watches quietly from the shores and secretly hopes that they will be successful.
Click here to learn more about the Liberty Tree, and how I see the current movement. If you want to meet the new Son’s of Liberty, listen to Doc Thompson on The Blaze Radio Network, and Matt Clark on the Clarkcast.com. These are the John Adams, Samuel Adams, and Thomas Paine’s of our day—and we are lucky to have them. When it is wondered what the Tea Party means, for me it is summed up perfectly in the old Disney film Johnny Tremain. If that is threatening or malicious to anyone—then the premise of that accusation needs to be checked—and the real threat to human existence will quickly be revealed.
Rich Hoffman
I was flying recently over Sandusky, Ohio from an altitude of approximately 28,000 feet. A patch of cloud had opened revealing the small point of land I knew to be the Cedar Point Amusement Park extending well out into Lake Erie—looking perilously vulnerable. I remembered upon this vision how high the roller costar, Top Thrill Dragster seemed at the peak of its 400 foot plus vantage point—barely even a blip across the surface of the earth from such a high perspective. Invisible from such a high point of view are all the thrill rides of that famous park, the countless little restaurants, the hotels, the many street venders which give the place a sense of vibrant life. From my airplane, they could not be seen—yet I knew they were there—and during this Christmas Season which is a celebration of Jesus Christ—and the anxiety that I know many feel because of Obamacare—the time is correct to cover some issues of great concern focused on the Kingdom of Heaven and the parallels to it with the amusement park of Cedar Point as viewed from such a high place.
Most of us live our entire lives from such a high vantage point. We are busy with our lives, and when someone we care about becomes sick, or cannot become helped with medicine—which will become a much more frequent occurrence with the upcoming health care destruction by President Obama—we pray to God to help us. Yet from where God is residing, the power to hear every individual prayer can be achieved just as Google Earth or a powerful set of binoculars can zoom in on those roller coaster peaks from such a great height, but often people will die, prayers will not be answered, and tragic disappointment will ensue when God fails to acknowledge the qualms of the living lost in the perspective of distance. The sheer numbers of people suffering is just too great and in the scheme of the universe, there are more important things to be concern with other than the prayers of a college football player hoping to make his mother proud of them by scoring a touchdown during a bowl game on national television. The black hole at the center of the Milky Way is sucking in and destroying billions of tons of matter every second and spewing it out into some other dimensional plane of reality for some purpose only understood perhaps on a multi-verse plane of reality—so the prayers of the football player, or the cancer patient being kicked off their insurance plan because of the tampering of government will likely be lost to the eyes of God’s kingdom.
But to understand why, the concept of The Kingdom of Heaven must be understood and for that I have often turned to the Gospel according to Thomas. There are some really wonderful quotes by Jesus which Thomas recorded for posterity. Upon hearing them I have to conclude that Jesus had learned Indian Buddhism at some point in his post teenage years, and likely the work of Aristotle which was preserved by the Muslims at the time. Jesus must have also studied heavily the concepts or Zoroastrianism. This is not to say that he was not the “son of God” the way people hope to believe, but that he needed to develop the language to convey what he felt coming from his mind and mouth to the people of the world. This took Jesus down the path he was looking for, and he brought his own interpretation to these concepts to form his foundations for teaching the beginnings of Christianity—which most people fail to grasp. As the statism through the Roman Empire sought to use Christianity to unite their crumbling empire, they of course altered, manipulated, and even extorted from the learned masses opinions which focused on the altruistic nature of Christianity—and moving mankind away from the core message of Jesus which focused heavily on the “Kingdom of the Father.”
Anyone who says a prayer is hoping to penetrate this Kingdom that Jesus was always talking about—and he even went so far to tell people where it was. It was because of his revelation about the Kingdom of God ultimately that he was killed, because the Pharisees could not put up with Jesus having the masses reach such a place without the gate keepers and tax collectors standing in the way. So to this very day, most people spend their entire lives separated from the Kingdom of God needlessly—and suffer for no reason other than the control of politics desiring to sacrifice the masses to the blob of archaic gods like Zeus, Yahweh, Ahura Mazda, or Kulcucan. Most politicians and establishment types are just as stupid today as they were in the times of Jesus, and they wish to kill, destroy, and render helpless the minds of humanity with the same vigor that Obamacare hopes to stop scientific development which currently is destined to carry philosophic understanding into an intersection with quantum mechanics. The goal of politics whether through democracies, or religions is to separate the Kingdom of God from the people who want to go there by putting height, distance, and layers of clouds between the two so they cannot find one another in the chaos of existence. Just like the Cedar Point Amusement Park, it is there, but because of the great height of my airplane, man cannot see it. According to the Apostle Thomas—this is what Jesus had to say on the matter. The first one is my favorite quote from this Gospel.
The Gospel
According to Thomas
His disciples said to him, “When will the kingdom come?” Jesus said, “It will not come by waiting for it. It will not be a matter of saying ‘here it is’ or ‘there it is.’ Rather, the kingdom of the father is spread out upon the earth, and men do not see it.
Jesus said, “Whoever finds the world and becomes rich, let him renounce the world.” Jesus said, “The heavens and the earth will be rolled up in your presence. And the one who lives from the living one will not see death.” Does not Jesus say, “Whoever finds himself is superior to the world?”
Jesus said, “The kingdom is like a man who had a hidden treasure in his field without knowing it. And after he died, he left it to his son. The son did not know (about the treasure). He inherited the field and sold it. And the one who bought it went plowing and found the treasure. He began to lend money at interest to whomever he wished.”
Jesus said, “The kingdom of the father is like a merchant who had a consignment of merchandise and who discovered a pearl. That merchant was shrewd. He sold the merchandise and bought the pearl alone for himself. You too, seek his unfailing and enduring treasure where no moth comes near to devour and no worm destroys.”
Jesus said, “The kingdom of the father is like a man who had good seed. His enemy came by night and sowed weeds among the good seed. The man did not allow them to pull up the weeds; he said to them, ‘I am afraid that you will go intending to pull up the weeds and pull up the wheat along with them.’ For on the day of the harvest the weeds will be plainly visible, and they will be pulled up and burned.”
Jesus said, “Whoever has come to understand the world has found (only) a corpse, and whoever has found a corpse is superior to the world.”
His disciples said, “When will you become revealed to us and when shall we see you?” Jesus said, “When you disrobe without being ashamed and take up your garments and place them under your feet like little children and tread on them, then will you see the son of the living one, and you will not be afraid”
Jesus saw infants being suckled. He said to his disciples, “These infants being suckled are like those who enter the kingdom.” They said to him, “Shall we then, as children, enter the kingdom?” Jesus said to them, “When you make the two one, and when you make the inside like the outside and the outside like the inside, and the above like the below, and when you make the male and the female one and the same, so that the male not be male nor the female female; and when you fashion eyes in the place of an eye, and a hand in place of a hand, and a foot in place of a foot, and a likeness in place of a likeness; then will you enter the kingdom.”
http://gnosis.org/naghamm/gthlamb.html
I believe based on a study of philosophy, comparative religion, observed fact, many years of bible study, and my own creative judgment that the Kingdom of God is within us all, and we reach it when we die to the flesh (pairs of opposites—male and female, good and bad, right and wrong, and all transitory perspective which places our vision high up in the clouds of institutionalism and away from the metaphorical Cedar Point—the Kingdom of Heaven. It is always right there below us, around us, within us—but we do not see it because of the tools we are using to observe the world.
If one had to think of Heaven as an actual place that could be located with some sort of mapping system, instead of Heaven being out there someplace reachable by space ship or airplane, it is beyond our current focus—as it exists in the very small—instead of the very big according to some of the bizarre rules of quantum mechanics—perhaps as my elderly father-in-law has postulated–Heaven exists in the 12th dimension—where mankind has only yet discovered 11 of them. The myths of many cultures use the number 12 as a kind of unified theory, and that perhaps the innate understanding of this end game has always been known to imagination even as far back as the centuries before Jesus’ birth. Heaven is likely so small that in order to arrive at its gates to reside, we would have to strip away the smallest atom of our lives so that the cells of our bodies were like universes dotted across a multi-verse body of mammoth composure. Heaven may well be like a Cedar Point currently viewed not from 28,000 feet, but from 2,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000, miles away looking at the same point in space. It will only be reached when all pairs of opposites are gone from perspective, and all reference to material flesh preventing the energy of a human body from entering such a place are removed.
So don’t be surprised when prayers go unanswered dear reader—or seem that way anyway. It is nearly as hard to see a plane in the sky at such a height from the perspective of Cedar Point at ground level as it is to see details from up there into the courtyard of Chick-fil-A lost under the trees next to the big log flume ride. God is getting the whole symphony of human existence in one giant played note, and there are many notes yet to be played on the backs of the many that have already reached Heaven’s Gates. But as far as Obamacare, we are on our own—we are part of the musical piece which penetrates all dimensional plans of reality from the very large, to the very small—and it requires our participation, and understanding of what Jesus was really talking about regarding the Kingdom of Heaven.
As my plane landed I thought about the change in perspective as the craft descended out of the clouds to reveal all the details of the world that had been seen beneath, only at a great distance. Once I was in the gate concourse I found an airport bar/restaurant to jot down my thoughts as Obamacare discussion was on every television visible—the anxiety over the matter noticeable among everyone around me. The anxiety is in the misplaced trust that government can manage this situation—which they cannot. The tragedy of Obamacare requires an understanding of the Kingdom of Heaven and the nature of the afterlife so that fear cannot be allowed to manipulate the masses with the major assault on their personal sanctity by promising them shortened lives, poor health care choices, and total control of their existence with a power grab disguised through altruism to end the free thought and action of every human being.
As I wrote this, the beer tasted good, the hamburger was delicious, and the knowledge that all that I could see around me was invisible to the naked eye from 40,000 feet—yet it was all here all along. And as I finished my hamburger, beer, French fries, and captured my thoughts waiting for the next flight, I had a very good understanding of what Jesus was talking about all along.
Rich Hoffman
In the recording below from 700 WLW Bill Cunningham found himself in the middle of Butler County Republican politics when Commissioner Cindy Carpenter was engaged in yet another debacle on his show. Cunningham joked to Cindy who was on the radio to defend accusations and possible indictments against her–that Butler County does not have any Democrats so Republicans have taken to fighting each other as Carpenter was at odds with the county prosecutor. I think it was lost to Cunningham that what he said was actually quite wrong. A lot, (too many) politicians in Butler County like Commissioner Don Dixon are former Democrats just like Cunningham used to be—they are the epitome of the whole RINO accusation—“Republican In Name Only.” Dixon used to lead the Democrats in Butler County in the 90’s and only changed parties when he realized that it would be easier to win elections if he called himself a Republican. During the last trustee race in the very conservative West Chester Township, Cathy Stoker was a Democrat but she didn’t dare put that information on her campaign literature. Instead she put “fiscal conservative,” so to give the impression that she was a conservative. Her running mate, Lee Wong—who is a functional socialist literally called himself a Republican—complete with the little elephant on his yard signs. Later during the Cunningham broadcast with Commissioner Carpenter their mutual friend Sheriff Jones came on and essentially called Carpenter a liar. Jones thinks of himself as a Republican, yet he supports labor unions and votes for school levies. His social behavior is quite liberal, yet he is considered a staunch Republican, just like his friend the radio host Cunningham. A lot of these people put on the mask of conservativism to win audience approval, but they legislate like bleeding heart liberals and are directly responsible for spreading the expansion of government. Because most of the world sees and hears these kinds of people as the faces of Republicanism, real conservatives who live as traditional Americans, and are actually philosophically conservative seem as though they are extremists. Meanwhile, these mask wearing conservatives get themselves involved in so many different aspects of politics that they lose track of what they said to whom and when they said it. This is apparently what has happened to Cindy Carpenter who came on the Bill Cunningham Show to dispel the perception of her political blunders. At the end of the broadcast she was dismissed by her Republican buddy and political fundraiser Sheriff Jones who sided with the prosecutor over the controversial incident. CLICK TO REVIEW.
Many of the problems that Cindy has had during her tenure as Commissioner has been her tendency to abuse her office for little things like free baby sitting services and intimidating others with a lot of yelling and screaming. I might be inclined to admire Cindy’s combativeness if she didn’t have elements of big government expansion about her—which comes out in conversations like what she had on 700 WLW. She was quick to point out in her interview that she was a conservative, as though she needed to explain her actions to confirm it. However, the troubling aspect of her discussion is that she declared Sheriff Jones had told her he’d back her over her confrontation with the Butler Country Prosecutor, which was the theme of her latest trouble.
This is the direct result of politicians who are not philosophically aligned by conservative beliefs and instead use the Republican Party as a platform to work as career politicians. When these politicians have to fake being conservatives to get elected in a conservative area, they are often caught in contradictions like what Cindy has found herself in. I believe she has convinced herself that she’s a Republican in the same way that John McCain or Chris Christie believes they are hard-core conservatives—yet deep down inside they are bleeding heart liberals who believe that government should intrude on people’s lives—and interfere with justice based on their interpretation of a moral code—which is established by the same type of politicians.
This behavior from Cindy is not new; it has gone on for a long time and seems to be part of the way she operates. Former Commissioner Chuck Furman addressed his concerns regarding Cindy Carpenter’s temper tantrums and emotional tirades in the Commissioner’s office not that long ago. If I were in Cindy’s position, it is likely that many people would be intimidated and frightened also and often, so I don’t begrudge her of that. I understand dropping the “F” bomb in meetings and harassing people who are standing in the way of justice—but whose justice? That is the million dollar question. As a conservative, I know where the line is, but for someone who is a wanna-be conservative– a RINO—their opinions are likely shaped by liberal politics dressed behind a conservative mask—and that is not OK.
Below is a letter from Commissioner Furman to Carpenter which reflects accurately the current trouble that Cindy is having—yet this letter is over a year and a half old as of this writing. It shows a pattern of behavior that is quite destructive. Cindy’s response to the letter can be seen by clicking on the hot link attached to the letter.
To: Cindy Carpenter, Commissioner
Unfortunately, I have no remedy for this situation, but I refuse to be silent about it.
From: Chuck Furmon, Commissioner
Cindy’s response to Furman was similar to what was heard on Cunningham’s show. She presented a logical explanation for everything which sounded good and makes you want to shake your head in acknowledgment—but something isn’t quite right about it. Someone isn’t telling the truth……….either Furman wasn’t being truthful or Carpenter wasn’t. I know Chuck a bit, and I doubt it’s him. Cindy I wasn’t so sure about, although the time or two that I met her she seemed like a nice stable person. She certainly didn’t seem like such a Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde personality which has persistently followed her antics as an elected representative since 2010.
Yet during the Cunningham interview the Mr. Hyde personality was exposed toward the end. Sheriff Jones is too politically astute to lie on 50,000 watts of AM radio to hundreds of thousands of people all over Ohio, Indiana, and Kentucky. Sheriff Jones might be walking the line between Republicans and Democrats with the skill of a circus act, but he’s not a liar. So that leaves Carpenter rather exposed in an uncomfortable way that deserves consideration.
I admire about Cindy her fight, her drive, and her pursuit of justice. Yet, her beliefs are way too liberal for me—she is a big government mind pretending to be a conservative. She is at best a moderate Republican and if Butler County were a different kind of place where liberal politics were tolerated, I suspect she would be a Democrat similar to the kind of man Todd Portune is in Hamilton County. I have a history with Todd as well, and I know his politics well—and Cindy is far closer to someone like him ideologically than she is a Republican like T.C. Rogers, the commissioner who took Chuck Furman’s seat during the 2012 election. Many believe that Butler County has three conservative Republican commissioners, but really they have only one in T.C. Don Dixon is a former head of the Democratic Party and is Republican in name only. He is a RINO without question. And not far to the right of the political spectrum of Don is Cindy Carpenter. Under a real tally of values Butler County is currently being led by two Democrats and one Republican—which is a deception that is not forgivable.
When people live their lives around lies, they force themselves to become a schizophrenic type of personality—a Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde in real life. Cindy’s three year history shows that to the public she can display Doctor Jekyll—who is mild-mannered and articulate personality that is Republican. But in the halls of the commissioner’s office screaming at people for strange reasons, forcing security to baby sit her kids while she attends meetings, and running around playing a bleeding heart liberal as a social service worker using the power of her office to impose her will—she shows the Mr. Hyde—and that person is a Democrat. It’s often not easy to see until provoked, but eventually the monster comes out and shows itself—and that’s what happened during the interview Carpenter gave to Bill Cunningham.
I don’t mind if people stand by what they are and believe what they believe. I admire it in fact, and I will fight for those people to maintain that right. I believe in the marketplace of ideals fighting it out for the betterment of everyone. But that process doesn’t work if people hide what they really are and attempt to pull a blanket of deception over the actual monsters that drive them as people. For that reason alone I won’t support Cindy Carpenter in the next election—because it is obvious she has not been completely honest about what she is, and what she believes. Politicians who are RINO’s because they know they cannot be elected into office any other way are worse than Democrats because they are attempting to deceive the public at the very start of their public service—and that makes them unqualified of an office of any kind—and untrustworthy of tax payer dollars.
Rich Hoffman
John Boehner has been in Congress representing the 8th District since 1990. He’s been in that position my children’s entire life, and they are now both married and having kids of their own. He’s been in Washington too long. I know he’s a nice guy, but I’m sure the same could be said of Obama privately. Boehner is just bad for the job. It became clear to me that Boehner had fallen in love with Washington D.C. when he was caught on a hot mike talking to Joe Biden about golf before the President addressed the nation with a yearly speech. Obama obviously has intentions to grossly expand government which is a real and serious threat to everyone’s livelihoods who actually work at real jobs—and hob knobbing with the powerful elite while they do it is just neglectful. It has become obvious that Obama and John Boehner are not that far apart on many issues. Boehner plays the Republican act for the cameras, and fundraising speeches, but it is obvious he doesn’t believe what he says because he doesn’t act on his promises—such as someone’s going to “jail over the IRS.” Boehner like Obama just delivers lines of dialogue and seems to believe in nothing.
When a politician like John Boehner “compromises” he’s done, not because compromise is a dirty word, but because the implication of that task states clearly that a person is willing to yield their values for the collective good of democracy. The trouble with that is the other side does not function from a value system, so compromise to them costs nothing—because they have nothing to yield. The compromise exclusively comes from those who do have value—people like Boehner—and he has for over twenty years compromised, and compromised, and compromised until he has allowed the Republican right to be pulled so far to the political left that he could likely hold a job right now in the Clinton White House of the 1990s.
Boehner plays too many Washington games, and he loses most of them. Whether it’s the government shut down, the debt ceiling, Health Care which was rammed through Congress on his watch, his failure to go after Obama on several potentially impeachable offenses—Benghazi, the IRS, the NSA, the political appointments, Boehner has shown that he’s comfortable in Washington. He likes it and for a representative from Ohio, he is not representing it in the Belt Way—giving politicians like Obama leverage in all negotiations. It is obvious that in the poker games of Washington, John doesn’t know what he’s doing, or what his opponents are doing to him. Boehner is continuously out-maneuvered by Nancy Pelosi and Harry Reid for God’s sake—and those people are complete idiots. I am convinced that Boehner was elected Speaker of the House not for his skill as a Speaker, but for his naive complacency—his aloofness toward the crimes going on in the House under his nose which is enriching its members. Boehner is Speaker of the House to keep the status quo functioning with excuses and promises while the trio of Reid, Pelosi, and Obama run him down over and over like Enos on the old television show, The Dukes of Hazzard.
On a rainy January in 2011 I went down to John’s office during lunch to speak to his “people,” the same guys who were in the audience scouting the competition trying to knock off their boss in the video above. I wanted to give Boehner a formal letter, and actually hoped to catch him in town, as I knew he was back home at the time. When I got to the office, they hadn’t seen Boehner even though he lives right down the road—and that little aspect of Boehner’s management style spoke volumes about the current Speaker of the House—he’s out of touch. Boehner after 20 years in Congress has been out-witted one too many times and the way he attempts to overcome his intellectual naiveté is to play golf with his enemies and compromise. When Boehner compromises with Obama it is always the GOP which gives up something because Obama is a classic thief—a looter who gains everything he has in life by taking from others. Obama never gives up anything because he never earned anything. John Boehner on the other hand has always done for himself—but he gives Obama equal value at the bargaining table with a compromise. It’s like going to a garage sale and buying a new television in exchange for a pack of stolen laundry plucked off a neighbor’s cloths line. Boehner has the television; Obama has the bag of laundry. Boehner gives Obama the television, and Boehner gets a bag of laundry that the owner eventually comes looking for and thinks that it was Boehner who stole it in the first place, because it’s in his hands. Obama goes home and watches football on the television while Boehner defends himself in court for stealing laundry from people’s back yards. That is what Democrats call “compromise.”
The Speaker of the House should know how to defend himself from those types of political games, but Boehner clearly doesn’t. Like Enos in The Dukes of Hazzard, John Boehner is a good man pushed around constantly by the Boss Hoggs of Capital Hill, and he falls for just about every scheme imaginable. He has been kept as Speaker because the thieves, looters and barons know that they can continue their crimes against the tax payer so long as John Boehner is in charge—and that is just an insult to the people of the 8th District, and to himself. It is painful to watch Boehner struggle through all the various controversies that the Obama administration has served up to him, and he misses again and again the opportunity to deliver a spike. It’s like watching a child in tee-ball who can’t swing a bat and hit the ball set up on a tee. It’s just pathetic.
So it’s time for Boehner to go and send a message to Washington that an established (powerful) Republican can be knocked out of his seat by someone new—someone like J.D. Winteregg. If the Republicans fail to gain seats in the House after the Obamacare debacle, then they are complete idiots anyway—and hopeless beyond repair. Obamacare is not just a ball placed on a tee for the GOP to hit, but it’s already been knocked out into the field for them. All they have to do is run the bases. So losing Boehner in the primary is of little consequence to the GOP. We can afford it as an investment into a new kind of government where the Speaker is actually in his office when he’s in town, and doesn’t think first of playing golf while the other side is pulling his underwear up over his head like a Three Stooges skit. It’s time for someone else to take John’s seat, and for me it would be J.D. Winteregg.
Rich Hoffman
When I was in the fifth grade my mother used to put together a gift bag of goodies to play with and read while taking long vacations that required many hours in the car. That year my family went to Myrtle Beach and inside my gift bag was a novel just published by Del Rey called Han Solo at Star’s End. It was the first book published after the 1977 release of the first Star Wars film and it featured my favorite character and I couldn’t wait to read it. My mom purposely kept the book on top of the refrigerator out of my reach but positioned it so that I could see it. I was salivating for weeks to read it. I was looking forward to our family vacation not for the opportunity to go to the beach, but to read that book.
Finally on a hot summer morning after a devastating thunderstorm that nearly delayed our trip, we left. The moment we were on I-75 south, my mother gave me the carefully constructed gift bag with all the goodies in it to keep me occupied for the long drive. There were lots of neat things in the bag, but only one thing I wanted and the moment I put my fingers on it, I was in love for life. I devoured Han Solo at Star’s End. I read the book all the way to Myrtle Beach, at every restaurant we stopped at, on the beach, at the hotel room, everywhere that I could hold a book. When I finished I read it again, then again, then again. I lost count of how many times I read that book. I was in love with the Millennium Falcon not because of the movie—which was great, but for deeper reason that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. It was the Corporate Sector and specifically a guy named Doc Vandangante who could have only been employed by such an experiment of laissez-faire capitalism that had sent my mind ablaze for some unknown reason.
On my family’s Myrtle Beach vacation I read in Han Solo at Star’s End that while in the Corporate Sector, the Falcon was damaged after Solo and Chewbacca attempted smuggling weapons to insurgents on Duroon. They did collect payment from the insurgents and went to pay off Ploovo Two-For-One, but in a rather creative manner. Given the prickly relationship and even outright disgust they had for each other, Han bought a foul, irritable, putrid dinko, attached the payment to it, and unleashed it on the unfortunate employer. Although Corporate Sector Security arrived at the establishment where they were, Han and Chewbacca escaped their grasp relatively unscathed. Payment completed, they went off to find the outlaw tech “Doc” Vandangante‘s hideout, only to discover he had been taken to the Corporate Sector Authority prison at Stars’ End. Doc’s daughter Jessa offered upgrades and repairs to Han’s ship, and a Corporate Sector waiver, in exchange for Han helping rescue Doc and the other prisoners. Before Han could take off, the outlaw techs were attacked by IRD-A Fighters. Piloting a Z-95 Headhunter, Han led the other techs and Jessa in defense of the base. Despite heavy losses, they were successful. To complete their rescue mission for Jessa, Solo and Chewbacca were given two droids, Bollux and Blue Max, and went to the agriworld Orron III to meet up with a group led by Rekkon planning the prison rescue. Though Solo was initially only interested in getting the repairs for his ship, his motives became personal when Chewbacca was captured. After dealing with a traitor in the group, Solo and the others arrived at Stars’ End. In order to gain entry, Han, Atuarre, Pakka, Bollux and Blue Max posed as a troupe of entertainers. The rescue proved successful; freeing Chewbacca, Doc, and the other prisoners and destroying the Stars’ End in the process. After the Falcon was repaired, Solo and Chewbacca left the Corporate Sector for a time, taking Bollux and Blue Max with them in future books…….all of which I read with the same enthusiasm.[18]
http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Han_Solo
The Corporate Sector was formed in 490 BBY[9] to free the Republic lawmakers and the Corporate moneymakers from their differences, after being exiled from the Inner Rim to the Tingel Arm. The Corporate Sector originally had a few hundred systems all devoid of intelligent life. Its creation came in the aftermath of the disastrous experiment with corporate control in the Outer Expansion Zone. The new experiment was tried under more careful supervision, the Republic sent the equivalent of a full subsector’s worth of ships to protect the rights of the workers in the sector and to ensure the companies preserved the basic integrity of the environment on the planets in the sector. The corporations were allowed to operate in the sector and could purchase entire regions of space, but were supervised by the Galactic Republic. A general tax was paid directly to the Republic government which enabled the companies to avoid the morass of sector, system, planetary and local taxes found on most worlds in the Republic. The Corporate Sector thrived because of deregulation and low taxes.
http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Corporate_Sector
Doc was born on Coruscant to Carmilla Vandangante, a corporate viceprex and widow who doted on her only son. He rebelled against his life of luxury and privilege at the age of seven, reprogramming his droid nanny to discard such unpalatable foods as kibla greens, flangth, and stewed gwouch into a living room vase. This demonstrated his technical gifts to his tutors, who soon tailored their lessons to these skills.[1]
Upon graduation, Doc accepted a position at Alkherrodyne Propulsions as design systems team leader. He soon became disenchanted with the corporation’s shoddy workmanship covered with flashy marketing, but swallowed his pride and remained with the company. However, when the Azaria 66 began exploding in minor accidents, Alkherrodyne’s slicers framed Doc. The countless lawsuits wiped out the multi-billion credit Vandangante fortune, and left the name slandered.[1]
Doc became a drifter, eventually making his way into the Corporate Sector, where he met an outlaw tech by the name of Shardra. They immediately fell in love, and when introduced to her profession, Doc found his calling, repairing smuggling ships and souping them up to be some of the fastest in the Corporate Sector. Shardra bore the couple a daughter, Jessa Vandangante, but soon died in an unfortunate fuel dump explosion. Doc found raising a daughter to be a difficult task, especially as the free-spirited woman grew older and started catching the eye of younger smugglers like Han Solo.[1]
http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Klaus_Vandangante
The Millennium Falcon was a direct result of very creative free enterprise by a number of previous owners but culminating in the exploits of Han Solo who ran into Doc Vandagante. In a very large galaxy of ideals, some parts of it ruled by peace-loving pacifists, some ruled by ruthless crime lords, some ruled by sinister agents of tyranny, some just trying to preserve their heritage among the intermingling of many races and species—it was the Corporate Sector that made The Millennium Falcon such a special starship. Much like today’s world in real life, government and business could not get along—so government gave business free rein on the outer edge of the galaxy away from their control in exchange for the benefits. The equivalent in the real world might be the Caribbean, Las Vegas, Gatlinburg, Tennessee, Hong Kong, or even Disney World where politics leaves the areas alone with their overly intrusive rules and regulations. The direct benefit is the vibrant economic activity of creative minds such as the fictional Doc Vandagante. My question as a young fifth grader on Myrtle Beach was why wasn’t the rest of the galaxy the way the Corporate Sector was? Why would the government within the core worlds want the benefits of the Corporate Sector not on the outer rim of the galaxy, but within the core near the capital planets? Well, the sad answer was power.
Star Wars is of course a fictional story, but it has so many references to our current life that the mythology accurately reflects many competing ideals that are in actual conflict. The concepts introduced through the story are familiar to us all. The Imperials love statism, the Rebels love freedom, and then there are those who might otherwise find sanction in the Corporate Sector with all the good and bad that comes with it. Some of the planets in the Corporate Sector are ravaged with pollution, and corrupt board of directors just out trying to make money at the expense of others. It’s not all good in the Corporate Sector—it’s not safe—fair, or even remotely nice. But, the Corporate Sector was responsible for much of the technological innovation that the rest of the galaxy enjoyed and there is a philosophical argument there worth noting.
The Millennium Falcon is a direct product of the laissez-faire capitalism of the Star Wars universe. When I returned back to the real world after reading Han Solo at Star’s End it was clear that my public school was intent to teach the politics of the core worlds, what we might call in the real world—socialism. The public schools were intent to preach the merits of statism—rules and regulations, federal control of everything. Not me. I wanted a Millennium Falcon—I wanted something like it in my lifetime, and it quickly became clear to me that the kind of education that the public schools were offering would not take the world where I wanted to go. When John F Kennedy dared America to go to the moon, he tossed at NASA a bit of laissez-faire capitalism to make it happen—and beat the Russians to space. Stanley Kubrick watched this progress and built is movie 2001: A Space Odyssey around that type of progress. But once the Berlin Wall came crashing down in 1989, America took its foot off the gas and started over regulating everything once again to give politicians something to do—and that space race progress came to a halt. Now there has been over 20 years of blatant and gradually increasing socialism coming out of WashingtonD.C. because that’s what everyone was taught in their public schools, and there are no real plans for space under the Obama administration going forward. They are instead focused on solar panels, street cars, public transit, and a communist care health system.
NASA if turned loose with laissez-faire capitalism could likely build a real functional Millennium Falcon within a decade. The technology is close enough that at least a vessel that could take off and fly into space with artificial gravity, ion propulsion, life support and other forms of sustainability could be achieved quickly if the real life Doc Vandagantes were turned loose of government regulation. I know a few of them, I know people who have invented flying cars that could take off from one driveway and land in another half a world away, but has no real interest from large aerospace companies facing gigantic liability concerns, and mountains of paperwork in compliance to purchase—and advance. I know of people who have cured most cancers, but the FDA has tried to throw them in jail to keep the technology off the market so pharmaceutical companies can continue keeping people sick and addicted to their products. I know of scientists who have started the process of regenerative growth—who can re-grow fingers lost, or legs amputated. They are solving the problem of aging and whether or not human beings actually have to die. They are a threat to the companies who make prosthetic limbs, and ADA legislation that wants more ramps for wheel chairs, elevators for the disabled, and generally more handicapped people to use for political advancement in the here and now. Those types of people will gladly sacrifice the opportunities of tomorrow for power today.
Statists inside the beltway of Washington D.C. are the first to say that if people never got sick, never died, and had unlimited freedom of transportation, then the world would become over polluted, over populated, and a menace to itself. They are still thinking small, because they obviously never read anything like Han Solo at Star’s End as kids—an act I’m sure Chris Lee shares with me. People like Chris and I ask ourselves why can’t I have my own Millennium Falcon to take off and go to work in orbit around earth where all the pollution and byproduct of production could be dumped into space preserving planet earth forever. When work was completed at the end of the day, we would just fly home and land in our back yards with our Millennium Falcons. Why can’t we have it–because we live on earth with restrictive governments that hate laissez-faire capitalism?
I’ve read many of the European classics and compared to Star Wars, they are boring. I love Shakespeare, but I would take any Star Wars book over William Shakespeare any day of the week. Shakespeare was a better writer than Brian Daley who wrote Han Solo at Star’s End without question. But Daley is much more positive as a thinker than Shakespeare, and that optimism about what’s possible is what Star Wars is all about. Yet much of the modern statism that is infecting the world is because of European culture, Thomas Mann’s Magic Mountain, Dante’s Inferno, or the master himself James Joyce of Finnegan’s Wake fame, which I have read and understand. Give me Star Wars over Finnegan’s Wake and give me the Millennium Falcon over a fu**ing street car. Give me a manufacturing plant floating around earth dumping its garbage into space or on the surface of the moon as opposed to the socialism of Brazil where everyone lives in a card board hut. Give me a Corporate Sector that can build a Millennium Falcon in America so that I can have one as opposed to the dying towns of Detroit choking on socialism and feel-good progressivism.
What Chris Lee is attempting to do is no different from what Doc Vandagantes did in the book Han Solo at Star’s End for The Millennium Falcon. Chris isn’t working for NASA, or some other group building Falcons for the general population. Government will not get behind such an effort, so Chris is doing it on his own. I was a bit skeptical at first even though I wanted to see the results. But after Chris showed off the latest cockpit construction after many months of meticulous effort, I can see clearly that he will be successful so long as he can continue to fund the project. It is for that reason that I am starting an icon on my side bar here at Overmanwarrior’s Wisdom encouraging my readers here to help Chris with his project. I think it’s important. Is it as important as sex trafficking in the world, or the sad state of current politics———-no, but yes. Yes because Chris’s Millennium Falcon project is about the most important ingredient to human society—imagination—and the gumption to make things happen. Chris wants like I do to walk inside a real life Millennium Falcon—and he’s making it happen on his dime, with his time, and his effort. And now that I’ve seen it, I can’t help but wonder what our world would be like if government simply got behind people like Chris and allowed them to function in a Corporate Sector of America where inventions like the Falcon could flourish, instead of trying to heard people into cities through progressive politics and force them onto government sponsored mass transit. The Millennium Falcon is a larger symbol than that—it is the result of laissez-faire capitalism and a hope for mankind that resides in the spirit of ideals and innovation—and a lot of perspiration.
That old Han Solo at Star’s End novel still sits near my reading chair. It’s now torn, and very worn out from years of handling—but it still evokes in me boundless imagination opportunities and optimism. Many people look at what Chris is doing in Nashville and read what I have said here and think that we are grown up kids who love the escapism of cinema, or fantasy which has a grain of truth to it. But what do we want to escape from—and to what. Speaking for myself, I wish to escape from the clutches of those with undeveloped imaginations—people who avoid thinking rather than thriving from it. For me, a personal Millennium Falcon would allow me to leave those sluggish minds behind in a flight for the stars and the endless possibilities available outside of the laws comb-over politicians have constructed just to increase their power base. My wife has read Han Solo at Star’s End—in fact she’s read every Star Wars book ever written up to this point which is in the hundreds—and she understands why there are Millennium Falcon’s all over our bedroom. Many don’t because they failed to let novels like Han Solo at Star’s End capture their imaginations at a young age, or failed to enjoy a film like Star Wars for whatever reason. They lack the mechanism to enjoy those kinds of things and it is they who are weights on minds like mine. I want to escape from their limitations, their restrictions, and their lives stuck in quicksand of self-construction. The Millennium Falcon to me is freedom from all that, and a symbol against restriction because The Falcon is a pirate vessel built by illegal components that’s faster than anything regulations in the Republic or Empire would allow. And that’s why I love it, and why people like Chris are dedicating their lives to see a real life Millennium Falcon—even if they have to build the damn thing themselves. I sleep better at night knowing that there are people like Chris and his friends out there—beyond the reaches of those who use rules and regulations to mask the lack of imagination that plagues their thoughts like a cancer—and the democracies of tyranny that they create with good intentions imposed from faulty thinking. The Millennium Falcon is an escape from those who don’t understand and a celebration by those who do.
Rich Hoffman
I kept a lot of this quiet until after the election. I’ve spoken about the results often, and the actions on behalf of Lakota, but I have purposely left out a portion of the story….until now. This is Part II of a short two-part series. CLICK HERE to review Part One. After the election of 2011 No Lakota Levy had defeated the school at the ballot box, and there was persistent discussion that Lakota would become just like Little Miami and continue putting up election after election until they won. But I had told our group at No Lakota Levy that if Lakota chose to do that, they were truly after results that had nothing to do with rationality—and we would deal with them on that basis. I also told them that if Lakota tried for a fourth attempt in 2012, that they’d have to find someone else to be the spokesman, because I had a book coming out called Tail of the Dragon which had nothing to do with education and I didn’t want to fight a school levy while promoting the book.
As recently as the last school board meeting of 2011 Linda O’Conner reached out to my wife and me in the parking lot of the administration building off Princeton Road to wish us a Merry Christmas and to let us know that there were no hard feelings. I told her that I left the meeting early because they were boring me to death—but that it was a Christmas present of sorts, I was going to spare them having to listen to me speak publicly. I didn’t want to rub their nose in the No Lakota victory, but I did expect them to listen to what over 18,000 voters had said—and at least propose a salary reduction to the teacher’s union for the sake of the community. She smiled and said that she’d present it to the board, and we parted for the last time on civil terms. Because immediately after that, in the winter of 2012, Superintendent Mantia showed that she was going to play the radical progressive, just like President Obama, and cut away all the aspects of the public school that people actually valued—not out of fiscal concern, but with the intention of extortion. In the coming months, Lakota did nothing upon the recommendations proposed by No Lakota Levy—the victor in the last election by a sizable majority—much greater than in the last election where Lakota won by less than 1%.
This presented a problem for me. 700 WLW approached me about being the education pundit, sort of what Mike Allen is currently regarding legal issues. The popular radio station wanted me to be The Big One’s education specialists. This sounded good, but at the time my publisher was having multiple fits about my controversial stance against public education. My novel, Tail of the Dragon was set to be released during the fall of that year and all the media contacts I had from years of building relationships suddenly saw me as the face of the anti tax movement in Lakota.
I offered myself as the face because I’m in a unique position to carry the title. To me it was a job that needed to be done, and nobody else wanted to do it, and the controversy actually helped some of my side projects so I took on that role from 2009 to 2012. However, I needed separation from that role prior to the release of my novel because I was too known as an education reformer, and my book was about a car chase which was intended to appeal to a NASCAR audience. Lakota, was proposing another levy attempt right in the middle of my book’s release—and that wasn’t going to work for me.
So I had to get No Lakota Levy self sufficient—where it could act without me, I had to separate myself from the education stuff, and I needed to strike at the heart of the tax levy push and show people what was really going on at Lakota—and stop dancing around the edge of the bowl. It was time to jump into the middle and show what was hidden there. When I talk about this period being a trap set by me for the Lakota school board to jump at, this is what I meant. Once Doc Thompson was fired at 700 WLW there was awkwardness that persisted in the wake of his departure. WLW had thrown him under the bus while he was on his honeymoon so they could make good with Eddie Fingers and I couldn’t remain a friend to Doc and resume my relationship with WLW—so a lot of things were lining up in a bad way. This is the primary reason I didn’t do the requested interview that Russ Jackson tried to set up with Eddie, Tracy and me on March 15th, I felt it was because of Eddie that Doc lost his job, and I couldn’t betray Doc. This made Jackson mad, and things degenerated from there.
In early January 2012 I knew I had to break things loose the best way possible. I began turning up the rhetoric against Lakota letting my true feelings about them be known because they were obviously going for another tax increase in spite of the election results—and it pissed me off in a big way. When I learned that the Community Foundation refused to work with No Lakota Levy after I set up a deal with The Enquirer to give them a story exclusive on a check-mate story, it enraged me because not only was the donation of money that No Lakota Levy was proposing to kids who couldn’t afford the sports fees a good thing to do, but it was strategically powerful forcing Lakota to reveal what they were really about as an organization. When the Community Foundation backed out, No Lakota Levy had to start their own charity group called Yes To Lakota Kids which delayed our announcement by several key weeks. I had been targeting the middle of February and was working with Michael Clark to get the story out, but when the Community Foundation pulled out of the deal—which they had been entertaining up to that point, it sucked the life out of the story, which seemed all too coordinated.
After the election instead of working with No Lakota Levy, Lakota went on the offensive, members of the union began going around town attempting to dismantle my name and it was around the middle of February when learned about it. Doc Thompson had also just been fired from 700 WLW which left me in a strange place with them. And my publisher was very concerned about my political beliefs and questioning whether I would be dragged into another levy fight right in the middle of the novel’s release. So I wrote my article about the Latte sipping prostitutes. I wanted to empower No Lakota Levy to proceed without me while I released my novel, and I wanted to see what Lakota would do with it and see how things progressed. Even though I spoke about “women” in general my comments were directed at a few major tax advocates and they knew who they were. I knew things about their home life, and pointed my comments in that direction. After all, if they were going to smear my name, I had the right to do the same to them. They were the primaries behind the mudslinging instead of taking the olive branch that Linda proposed at Christmas time. They chose that course of action.
This led to the events discussed in Part One. CLICK HERE TO REVIEW. What I put up on my articles I certainly stood behind, otherwise I wouldn’t have written them. I wanted Lakota to take a shot at me in a literal way so I could flush out the architects that were smearing me behind the scenes and I needed the names of the perpetrators. Julie Shafer who debated me on 700 WLW wanted to be the hero of the school board and eliminate the biggest resistance to the board’s tax increases. She worked with Superintendent Mantia to eliminate me from the scene. They didn’t know the things I just revealed about my novel, or my desire to see No Lakota Levy develop a new spokesman freeing me of the job, at least for the fourth levy attempt. This is the first time I’ve discussed these things publically—so they wouldn’t have known. They instead used my statements in the worst way possible. They knew who I meant specifically, yet chose to use the collective tendency of women to rally their base—another progressive trick, and they hit as hard as the possibly could.
Their actions were of the type that I intellectually anticipated they’d take. The same thing basically happened to Arnie Engle over in Fairfield, the levy supporters kept poking and poking and poking until Arnie snapped, and then they prosecuted him to the furthest extent of the law. The courts forced Arnie into probation and anger management classes to “deal” with his temper. As soon as they thought they had Arnie out-of-the-way, Fairfield tried for another school levy, which thankfully in 2013, lost. The public knows the games that are going on. However, conceiving such a ploy and feeling the wrath of it are different things, and it did surprise me how ruthless Lakota’s levy supporters truly were as human beings. What they did and how they did it showed me that they didn’t care what the results were to me personally, they simply wanted me out of their way politically. If I were the kind of person who had a traditional job, what do they think would have happened to me if I worked for a woman who day when every radio station in town was calling me a sexist, even the FM stations–literally? What about the effect on my wife and daughters or my mother—sister and other family members? What Lakota through their school board orchestrated, coming directly from Julie Shafer and Karen Mantia was the kind of thing that could have ended careers, marriages, or even residence. Several women from Julie’s circle of friends wrote me directly and actually stated that they were going to run me out-of-town, the fires of fury coming directly from the Lakota school board. And they felt entitled to do it—that is what my thousands of dollars spent every year on the stupid Lakota school system buys me—those kinds of people representing that kind of institution.
When I say it was a trap, I suspected it would happen in the way that it did and I had braced myself for it. I knew that Michael Clark was playing both sides against each other, and that he was telling the school board that Rich Hoffman had big plans against Lakota, referring to the exclusive story about Yes to Lakota Kids. This looked to have a lot to do with why the Community Foundation backed out in the middle of the announcement postponing the endeavor. And I knew that Julie, Mantia, and Powell would look for ways to come after me, and instead of them doing it in the shadows, I wanted to get it out in the daylight for all to see. They bit, and showed what they were all about, and people noticed. Shortly after the debacle of March 15th Lakota through my friends at No Lakota Levy asked for a cease-fire because things had not gone as they planned. I had rallied the anger vote and they knew there was no chance of passing a levy in 2012. In June of 2012 I did an interview with Channel 19 saying that I agreed with the school board’s decision to not pursue a tax increase. I told Cory Stark that the deal was for two years and that we’d be ready to fight again in 2013/2014. Lakota had projected surpluses so it wasn’t worth the public relations nightmare, and they needed time to lick their wounds. This suited me just fine because I was sick of Lakota and their constant attempts to raise taxes, and it allowed me to put my efforts behind the release of my book—just in time. Just prior to the Fox 19 report, I had approved the cover for my novel ahead of a release date of September, the first Tuesday after Labor Day.
However, when the novel came out, I was still known by everyone in the media as the anti-education guy—and it was hard to shake that off. Most likely, I will always be known as that—so my current thinking is that if it’s going to stick to me, then I’ll just make the best of it. My book came out and for 8 months out of the last 12 stayed sold out on Amazon.com. It did well as an initial offering and my family celebrated by going to Disney World over the summer. I needed to get away from publishing and politics for just a few weeks—which I cherished. But there have been complaints of late that Tail of the Dragon is not being carried at Amazon—it’s there, but out of print. Well, beginning at the start of October 2013 American Book Publishing closed their doors as a publisher—so they are no longer restocking my novel at Amazon. They were a small publisher and carried a lot of diverse titles, and a majority of them did not make much money. The writing for this was already on the wall in the winter of 2012 along with all the other issues mentioned, and I was concerned that they’d stay open long enough to publish my book. I think they hoped that things would turn around for them if a production house showed an interest in making my novel into a movie. But after my anti-union comments on this blog, there was a fat chance of that happening which was the real source of their frustration with my political beliefs. So they folded up, and I am searching for a new publisher to re-release Tail of the Dragon as a special edition. For American Book Publishing I had a 120,000 word manuscript that was edited down to 63,000 words, so nearly half the book was cut away. My current thoughts are to release a version of the book that was eliminated in the editing process specified by the PG rating that American Book desired. The special edition will be a rated R version of that same story, which dives even deeper into the freedom loving antics of Rick Stevens—some much harder edge concepts.
So that is the behind the scenes story of me and the Lakota levy. As a result of their approach to me and their desire to pretty much end my life with a ruthlessness that is unforgivable they have made a mortal enemy out of me—and the media personalities who played in that game with them—at this point we all know who they are. I will never forget it, I will never forgive it, and I will remind people of it the rest of my life. I will be 80 and 90 years old still talking about Julie Shafer, Joan Powell, and Karen Mantia. They had no idea what my relationship was with my family, that my wife understands me and that I am very close with my kids. But if I wasn’t, an event like what Lakota did could have ruined me—and they didn’t care. In fact, they wanted it to happen. Lakota took a head shot at me. They missed, part by design, part by luck—but it gave me a clear viewing of where they were hiding in the shadows loading their guns. Prior to that event in the Enquirer, they were shooting at me from the darkness and I could never tell where the bullets came from. After the Enquirer event, I could see the fire flash and direction of origin—and it was the Lakota school board.
So when they play innocent, like what was in Joan’s letter to Graeme, it is an act. They know the games, and where the bodies are buried. What it comes down to is money—the school board has no control over the management of their money because of the teacher’s union, and so long as they pass school levies, they can avoid the harsh reality that they are simply a body of government designed to raise taxes, because that is their only measure of balancing a budget. Instead of using their powers of manipulation against the union, they used it against me because they saw me as less of a threat than the teacher’s union, and I take that as a direct insult. So I will dedicate my time, life, and otherwise to ruining theirs. They will learn that there are greater things to fear than their teacher’s union, and if you take a head shot at me and miss, that you have earned an enemy for life.
That is the state of the union in Lakota in the wake of the 2013 Election.
Rich Hoffman
However, many people do go to the doctor which these days are basically sales reps for the pharmaceutical industry. I find it rare to have a conversation with anybody in 2013 that isn’t on some sort of prescription medicine whether it be heart disease, cancer, or some sort of depression—and most of those are contrived by a doctor to simply bring cash flow into a pharmaceutical company that offers a drug for the ailment. Once such drugs are introduced to the human body the cell structure just like welfare recipients in real life become dependent and start to rely on the pharmaceutical drug. This is good for Walgreens and the Kroger Pharmacy, but it is bad for the bodies of the people taking the drugs. Drugs are welfare for the body, and once they are addicted to the supplement, the immune system no longer functions the way it was designed to. My position on medicine is the same as my social policies against welfare—hand outs, social safety nets, and third-party care make people weak, and the best way to overcome tragedy and illness is to fight through it as an individual. However, many of my friends do have bodies that are addicted to these drugs, they have cancer, and other diseases that the pharmaceutical companies offer relief in the form of medicine, and they are now addicted to those companies and the doctors who prescribed them. So Obamacare is a very real fear they have because incomes have not gone up, food prices are out of the roof, fuel costs have been too high, and health insurance has cost too much. To me, $200 dollars a month is too high, however at the start of the New Year 2014 many of my friends with cancelled policies will pay $500 to $600 dollars for their needed health coverage which is in essence a car payment—except they won’t get the car.
If many of my friends could have bought a new car prior to 2014, they would have—but didn’t because they couldn’t afford the $300 dollars a month extra on top of all their other obligations. So what makes President Obama believe that everyone will be able to pay $300 more a month on insurance? Where is that money going to come from? The answer is that he knows in the back of his mind that they don’t have it. He is using the classic Cloward and Piven strategy of fiscal collapse in order to bring about massive social changes which is a strategy created at Columbia University where Obama supposedly went to college. Obamacare is designed to crush the lives of the people who will have to pay $600 a month or more to get the same coverage they were getting at $300 a month. The extra money is going to pay for the policy of those who didn’t have insurance to begin with—it is wealth redistribution to the maximum extreme.
My wife and I will pay the penalty of $90 and we will get nothing—absolutely nothing for that money. Before Obamacare, I at least had some health coverage in case something really bad happened, but now I don’t. And where will the $180 dollars in penalties that my wife and I are forced to pay go—to the insurance of some destitute scum bag, crack whore, or obese food addict that purposely lived their life poorly—made bad decisions which made them dependent on government. I don’t want to help those people make their lives worse by helping them do it—yet through the government; I am being forced against my will to give money to those idiots for some ridiculous “greater good,” as defined by government.
Obamacare is a communist backdoor attempt. History will view it the same way as the Russian Revolution of 1917 in Petrograd—only the cries for communism won’t come from the city streets of a working class looking for equality against the perceived bourgeoisie but from the government addicts who want Obama to steal from the smart, wise, and healthy to fix the broken, sick and stupid. Nationalized health care is a progressive—(communist) dream and is designed to collapse the economy of America with the same ideology that was supposedly behind the World Trade Center bombing. American health care was the best in the world and was driven by the finest economy on planet earth. To attack it is to strike at the symbol of economic health that it once represented and to slowly destroy the American economy from the inside out. The $300 dollars that most people will have to pay extra for health insurance in 2014 is outright theft, and a nudge further to the political left of the entire nation. Obama and his minions know that many people currently addicted to pharmaceutical drugs will become more ill, they will even die because of his decision—but he doesn’t care—because he knew in the beginning as did the rest of them, that there would be casualties in this progressive advance. They only care if the causalities happen to their political enemies as opposed to those who support them.
So when you get your insurance bill in 2014, you are seeing an all out assault on American life—and more specifically your life. You are seeing the results of communism coming through the back door instead of the front and trying to catch you while otherwise distracted. And Obama knows what he’s doing. He might feel the bite of it presently when he has to speak to the press, or the people, but he knew from the beginning what Obamacare was—and it isn’t American. It is good to be nice, and civil to others. It is even nice to be compassionate. I do feel sorry for the street-walker, the homeless degenerate, and the typical gas station attendant. I stopped in a convenience store the other day to buy a Mello Yello for lunch and paused to watch the intellect of the cashier and a line of destitute souls buying lottery tickets. If I could have captured the intellect of the 7 people talking I might have been able to power an old IBM 386 computer between all of them. I felt sorry for those people, but I also realized that they were who they were by their own decisions. They chose to smoke too many cigarettes during their teen years, they chose to not read books and instead develop leisure time activities centered on drugs and alcohol. They chose to live off of government instead of trying to earn a real income because they are generally lazy. They chose to ride a bus instead of driving a car, or to live in government housing when they could own a home. They chose not to build their intellects, but to live as parasites off others who do have developed intelligence. I feel sorry for them not for what they are, but for what they could have been, and in their lives, it’s too late. Most of them could not redeem themselves within a lifetime, so they don’t even try. They effectively ruined their lives before ever getting started and it is these people who the government wants to chain the rest of the country to out of compassion. That is a bad strategic decision, nationally.
I won’t be participating in Obamacare. I’ll pay my fine like I throw money at a toll booth driving through Chicago, or paying taxes to a stupid public school but I won’t participate further and I’ll find a way to get my wasted money back through some tax dedication that is perfectly legal. I’ll get my money back one way or the other—but I won’t participate. I do however feel sorry for those who are trapped; their bodies are addicted to pharmaceutical drugs and have conditions that their immune systems can no longer fight without Walgreens help. Obamacare will sink them, and it is quite on purpose.
Rich Hoffman
The Overmanwarrior 