The Box of Christmas Past, Present, and Future: Important gifts from important people

Christmas gifts always mean more than the actual material value of an item.  They often represent how people see you and whether or not they value you or not.  I was proud to see that so many different people went well out of their way to give me gifts that held tremendous symbolic meaning.  The effort placed into each of them goes recognized by me—unfortunately it would be nearly impossible to include them all here one by one in a way that would not bore everyone reading.  However, two gifts jumped out at me as being exceptionally good and deserve some recognition.

The first gift was not given by any particular person, but was just a gift of life itself.  My wife and I were in our outside hot tub on Christmas Eve, the temperature was right around 15 degrees Fahrenheit with a bit of a chill to the air.  The clouds were moving quickly in the noon day sky and the sun was brilliantly bright.  We had a particularly quiet morning, which was a gift in itself and had no place particularly special to go that entire day—so I was very relaxed.  The mist was coming up off the water with an intense fog because the water inside the hot tub was 102 degrees Fahrenheit.  The zone of air about two feet from the surface of the water was well below freezing while a small bubble of warm air mixed around our heads like a miniature climate indicative of the Earth’s atmosphere.  I popped open a Mello Yello for breakfast which had been refrigerated at approximately 32 degrees Fahrenheit and a spew of cloud-like moisture erupted from the can.  It was a neat geyser effect that would have only occurred in those specific climatic conditions and was something to marvel at.  Watching the mist dance in the air I could only conclude that “life was good.”

The other thing was that my parents gave me an iPad Mini for Christmas.  That was a very nice gift but was not the climax of the entire ceremony.  My mom wanting to build up the anticipation for the gift had wrapped it with incrementally larger boxes so that the origin box was a rather large thing, kind of a matryoshka doll concept.  It was this first box that actually turned out to be the best gift.  When I was a kid in the 6th grade that box had a special Star Wars gift in it that was particularly significant.  It was just a normal box, but my mom had wrapped it in a special Star Wars wrapping paper that was common in 1979-1980.  After I had opened that gift my mom had kept the box.  She had wrapped it in a way that the paper was attached to the box.  Way back then she made a comment that someday when you’re old I’ll give you another gift in it.  When I was at such an age a time like that seemed so remote and beyond thought that I forgot about it.  Well, this Christmas my mom had done just that using that old box with the 40-year-old wrapping paper still on it looking like it did when it was new.  The paper itself would be the envy of anyone who goes to events like Comic Con, or Gen Con.  It was a rare item that was like a piece of archeology from another time and place—and it was. After seeing the box again after so many years I really didn’t want to open all the incrementally smaller presents inside—I was fixated on the box.  However, after some time, I did finally unwrap my way to the iPad after about six boxes of barrierimage

I immediately downloaded Star Wars Pinball onto the iPad with Star Wars Angry Birds and had the time of my life the rest of Christmas playing those games.  During the age of the original date of the Star Wars wrapping paper the biggest gifts under a Christmas Tree during those years were small little hand-held football games that were basically little digital sticks that could move across the screen with the rapid push of a button.  Now games much more graphically interesting and complicated can be downloaded like nothing for .99 cents onto an iPad and played with almost no moving parts to fail after so many button depressions like those old games were subjected to often.  Star Wars Pinball is phenomenally fun, and would be worth $2000 dollars to me just for the sheer delight.  It seems unfathomable that such a thing could be downloaded onto an iPad for almost nothing.  I knew that in 40 more years some future children would look at my iPad and wonder how on earth I could ever enjoy such a thing—but that box with the Star Wars wrapping paper would still be around to bring a smile to someone’s face—I’d make sure of it.  The iPad as cool as it was would have long-lost its value, but the box would be priceless to people who appreciate such things well into the future.

For me it’s those kinds of extra efforts put into gifts that I appreciate.  Readers here sent me CDs with special songs on them to remind me that they thought of me during the Christmas Season, and other people went well out of their way to throw me similar curve balls of thought picking out presents for me.  And of course my mom fulfilled a promise she made nearly 40 years ago and gave me the box with the Star Wars wrapping paper once again.  Getting an iPad is a wonderful gift, and cost a lot of money.  But the real value comes when such ceremonies are placed on the ritual to give it the added meaning—and that extra thought is what makes Christmas such a delight.

For those reasons and more I watched another Christmas drift off into the cold January tundra of snow, cold, and gray skies with short days and sidewalks covered in ice with a bit of reminiscent contemplation about a Mello Yello can that spews forth magical mist and a box from my distant past that has brought forth yet again a tool of value for my present age.

Christmas is a wonderful time—and this one of 2013 was one of the best for me.

Rich Hoffman

 www.OVERMANWARRIOR.com

 

The Importance of Women: My gift to you–ZZ Top and the Lady of Tubber Tintye

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

http://www.sacred-texts.com/neu/celt/mfli/mfli05.htm

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

 www.OVERMANWARRIOR.com

 

Carlos Todd Wants His Republican Party Back: The strings that move John Boehner’s mouth

When I was a kid a lot of adults told me that I needed to grow up and get realistic about things—that my view of the world would either get me killed, or I’d kill myself in frustration over my unrealistic expectations.  Young people with the world in front of them, but little experience to discourage their results think they can conquer the world—singlehandedly if needed.  Adults then and now have the all-knowing vantage point of having been there and done it—and their advice is almost always that the idealism about life requires young people to “grow up,” to get, “realistic.”  What they really mean when they say such things is that being a grown up requires the compromising of beliefs.  Being a “grown up” requires yielding to the forces of existence instead of challenging them.  Well, I never listened.  I have been challenging things for almost half a century, and I’m not going to stop now—and many of those people who used to tell me to grow up, are now wondering how I have made it so far without bending to the will of the world of compromise that those adults always spoke of.  The anger is no longer a muffled breath—“someday he’ll grow up,” it is now serious concern—because it reflects back on them that they have cheapened their lives unnecessarily  to rules that they can now see delivered them to an abyss.

Needless to say I do not get invited to the Alderson Christmas party in my town—a place where all the movers and shakers gather to be seen—and is the crux of local politics.   Mostly Republicans go to such things, some Democrats, freedom fighting libertarians and even some non-political spirits—but what most of them all have in common is that they are “grown ups,” under the definitions established by the mysticism of establishment culture—formulated by compromises over many years.  What makes this year different is that the adults of that world are now telling those of us heavy in the freedom movement that it’s time to grow up and get serious about the future and to validate their point—they often look to the invite list of events like the mentioned Christmas Parties.  If you want to become invited, then you must grow up and accept certain things.  The payoff for growing up is that you can associate with the wealthy and powerful, and establish networking connections that will benefit your life.  If you are not at these kinds of parties then you are on your own—but otherwise cast out of the social circle that controls everything—thus meaning that you will suffer.  The people who control these party invite lists are the actual people who shape the tone of a culture for better or worse—because they gain control of the adults and their goals, and can thus steer them into the proper direction.

Some of the people on said invite lists are my old No Lakota Levy friends.  When I served as a spokesman for that group which I started, former rivals such as the all-powerful developer Carlos Todd and less so Mark Sennett showed an interest in joining forces with me—so we put our differences aside to fight against a common enemy—the Lakota school system.   However, along the way, the threat of not being invited to such high-profile social engagements constantly threatened them—so they chose to stay in the shadows letting me do all the talking.  I didn’t care to be on the invite list to any parties, or charity events, so they got in behind me nicely and kept their mouths shut.  Yet when the heat got to be too much, people like Mark decided to break away from my ranks and do their own thing, claiming No Lakota Levy as their own.  CLICK TO REVIEW.  But it didn’t work out very well, and Mark ended up castigating himself from our group by the next election.  Again a year later when I called some of the levy rivals “latte sipping prostitutes with asses the size of car tires,” some of the big names in politics in No Lakota Levy wanted to distance themselves from me as I had proven to be too reckless for their “adult” sensibilities.  Everyone knew who I was really talking about, and it wasn’t the general mothers of West Chester—but the kind of people who make out the yearly Christmas Party list of such notable concern.  By associating with me, many people were afraid they wouldn’t be on such lists in the future—so they allowed themselves to be steered by establishment orthodoxy.  That establishment was made up of the classic “adult” types—people who have compromised themselves and their beliefs of youth to secure good livings for themselves and social connections that would take them there.  Since I didn’t function by those rules, nobody really knew what to do with me.   People of some level of prominence are supposed to care about things like that—but I never have—and I never will.  So this has left those people to whisper behind my back—“he needs to grow up.”  What they really mean……….under their breath is…………”I can’t compete.”

Well, one of those old No Lakota Levy guys came out this past week on the heels of John Boehner’s rant against the Tea Party and revealed where the Speaker of the House suddenly found courage against those who had been calling him a RINO.  Butler County, Ohio for as long as I’ve been alive is a staunch Republican area—but of late people like me have supported the Tea Party and people like the former head of the Republican Party in Southern Ohio Carlos Todd supported traditional machine politics.  For many years if a Republican wanted to get elected to office in Butler County, they had to go though Carlos Todd—including John Boehner.  But in 2010, to capitalize off the rise of the Tea Party movement, people like Todd helped put Tea Party supporter David Kern into his former seat to curry favor of this new demographic of Constitutional purists.  The move was equivalent to an adult pretending to be a cool, hip teenager by coming down to their level to ease social awkwardness.  The memo had gone out to all party Republicans instructing them to treat the Tea Party with respect and ride their wave.  Boehner did as he was told and once Nancy Pelosi was knocked out of the speaker seat, and Boehner took over—they actually pretended to read from The Constitution, so to make the Tea Party believe that Boehner was on their side.

But after the talk of making Ohio a right-to-work state which would harm governor Kasich’s chances for re-election in Ohio, and the Republican Party’s desire to cozy up with the sitting President in Obama—they have sought to distance themselves from the Tea Party.  In Butler County this has led to an influx of infighting among Republicans in virtually every seat held by an elected official.  Behind the scenes people like Carlos Todd, who have had their hands in just about everything political so to pave the way for profitable business relationships cut off the money to the Republican machine which brought harm to the party under Kern’s leadership causing the infighting to be much greater than it otherwise would.  This past week as Boehner denounced the Tea Party after a budget compromise and a tongue lashing during the press conference announcement—David Kern stepped down from his job as head of the Republican Party in Butler County.  On the heels of that announcement Carlos Todd circulated a memo through the Republican network to the effect, “it’s time to grow up.”

What Todd means by his statements is that the grownups in politics need to be able to generate revenue for the party and that all responsible participants need to drop these immature notions about The American Constitution for the good of all Republicans.  Yet the source of the infighting all along are those who only pretended to support the Tea Party when it benefited them, and now that the national conservative talking points are “immigration reform,” “compromise,” and improving their image with women, the puritan views of American foundation principles are supposed to be rejected.    John Boehner did not come out suddenly against the Tea Party out of genuine concern about their opinion of his budget compromise.  Boehner’s people were at the straw poll where it was revealed that no reasonable challenger could be agreed to pushing Boehner out of office during the upcoming primary.  But the fact that four people were considering challenging Boehner was enough to scare the Republican establishment and convince movers and shakers like Carlos Todd that it was time to retake control of the party again in Butler County.

Carlos and I have had words in the distant past.  During the No Lakota Levy days, we were polite to each other, and when his kind of people wanted to take control of the movement away from me he didn’t change my behavior to their frustration—as I didn’t care about invites to Christmas Parties and charity events.  Like the Tea Party they wanted to use me for as long as it was convenient, and when they were ready for a change, they’d make it.  Our parting was not some issue over an Enquirer article as much as the people behind the scenes stoking the fires to provoke the situation—people from both political sides—mine and the enemy.  Our relationship worked so long as we were working for the same goals–lower taxes in the Lakota district.  But at a point, the endeavor began to cost money, so they wished to change direction and distance themselves from the radical Rich Hoffman.  People like Karen Mantia know this about the Carlos Todd types, and they exploit them routinely.  So long as the motivation is purely money, people can be easily controlled, which is why the Republican Party has been demolished over a long-span of time under the leadership of the Carlos Todd types.  They stand for very little philosophically allowing them to be controlled by a minority of the population in progressives.  Some of those people I genuinely like, some of them I considered my enemies even as they sat one foot from my face.  But if I could use their money to accomplish a tactical objective that we mutually benefited from– I did.  But I would not yield to the ideal driving their strategy.  I had my own objectives.  In the case of Carlos, those types of convictions are not present.  With him, it’s all about the money, money for the party’s war chest, and money regarding personal finance.

I had a union supporter send me an email a few weeks back calling me Mr. Potter from It’s a Wonderful Life, which is one of my favorite all time films.  The guy was speaking with a level of naïveté that is innocently limited in its scope and world view.  I replied to him that I identified with the Baileys in that film, not Mr. Potter.  As a union trained mind, he thinks all people who support business, wealth, and productivity makes them greedy—like Mr. Potter.  But the breakdown is more complicated than that.  Because of Carlos Todd, my childhood home is now a sports bar.  Where I grew up and slept every day, is now a pissing post for drunks who park on the side lot of what used to be my vast front yard.  My mother has never been the same since that property was sold under an extensive zoning battle in Liberty Township that involved trustee Bob Shelly, Mark Sennett, Carlos Todd and a few others.  That was the home where my mom raised her family and the money didn’t take away the pain of surrendering those memories to the business interests aligned with politics to crush individual will.  I know who the Mr. Potter is in Butler County, and he wants his Republican Party back, and is making the move to secure that intention.

I’m not anti-business by any stretch of the imagination.  I respect people who create and make things from nothing—and being a developer does that—more so than the union loser who is just a parasite off existence.  So Carlos and his type were able to work with me on No Lakota Levy because we agreed on at least that much.  But when people make the assumption that I was fired from a group that I started in No Lakota Levy, the truth is far from their beliefs.  There were attempts to reel me in the same as what is going on now with the Republican Party and the Tea Party.  For most, the party invites are enough to keep alliances directed toward the party objectives—in spite of what personal beliefs may entail.  But, as I’ve pointed out many times, I’d rather play video games with my wife and kids all weekend than attend a formal at the Alderson’s house celebrating Christmas and being a member of the “elite.”  To me that kind of thing is worthless, and has no philosophical merit.  It also puts you at a tactical disadvantage because today’s friend may be tomorrow’s enemy—and it is best not to break too much bread with those types—because you may have to crush them at some point.  And it is not good to have friendships that may cause a hesitation when a good crushing is required.

However, the memo is out by those who want control of the Republican Party once again that it is time to grow up—do the adult thing—and serve the collective needs of the party.  It is coming out of John Boehner, it is coming out of John Kasich, it is coming out of Mitch McConnell, but the origin of all those opinions do not come from the politicians themselves, but the network of people attending the Alderson Christmas Party and people like Carlos Todd who work the strings of politics behind the scenes.  The memo these days say “How about initiating a ‘draft a grown up’ campaign,” to get the party together for the 2014 elections, and a push for president in 2016.  For those types of people, their eyes are always on politics and how they can make it profit them with crony capitalism—instead of the type I support in laissez-faire capitalism, which requires the best idea—instead of the connections one has built.  But when the guilt of living a life under such premises becomes too great, and the crony capitalist is forced to compete with the laissez-faire capitalist the crony is at a loss and cannot stand on the same ethical ground—so they do what the guilty adult says to the vibrant teenager—you need to grow up.  What they really mean is that you need to surrender your principles for the greater good of party politics and stop thinking so idealistically, and start thinking how you’re going to make a living for yourself.  For Carlos Todd, he has made a good living in aligning politics to his business needs.  And he wants to take the party away from the Tea Party which is largely philosophical, and ideological, and return it to back-room deals at Christmas Parties where people like John Boehner eat out of his hand like a begging dog.

When it is said that the Republicans are infighting—this is what is essentially happening.  There are those who think like Carlos Todd, and then there are those who think the way I do.  David Kern is one of those types—who thinks the way I do.  They have attempted to do to him what they wanted to do to No Lakota Levy when they felt they were losing control of the message—and they always use the “grown up” argument to make their point.  But for me, there is too much Peter Pan in my character.  Living life a compromised adult has never been appealing.  What you end up with is a former home that is now a pissing palace, or a pathetic politician lacking firm convictions, or a person who will sell their own mother for ten years of financial security.  Compromise is not good—and so long as people attempt to impose compromise over philosophic merit—there will be infighting.  It might not get you invited to the big Christmas Parties, but it sure does help a person sleep at night without a pantry full of drugs to make the adult demons of compromise shut up long enough to carry a mind away into blissful slumber.

David Kern, as always did a good job.  But most of the time when the issue is over crony capitalism, the job has nothing to do with being good, but in who you know, and how you can use them to achieve fiscal goals.  I am proud to say that David Kern is far too sincere of a person to be good at that game—and that is something to be proud of.

Rich Hoffman

 www.OVERMANWARRIOR.com

 

Galactic Starfighter Strategies: New ways of dealing with old problems on the liberty front

A lot of the things I am usually concerned with politically and professionally are current disappointments.  Just this past week I learned that conservative groups could not agree on a candidate to challenge John Boehner’s seat confirming that many people talk tough until it really counts—but in the end they wimp out—and will get the government they deserve as a result.  There appears to be a challenger to John Kasich’s seat, but that will be an uphill battle with major opposition rolling large stones down to stop the progress, so that is hardly a success story at this point.  President Obama is proving to be a crook more and more as the follies of Obamacare are setting up 2014 to be a disastrous year for many financially.  And my public school of Lakota got their tax money with a levy approval.  I am personally making arrangements in financing to ensure that I don’t pay the extra $36 dollars in taxes per month—but the monopoly hold the institution has on the press, the political structure and the  young minds of America’s youth remains strong—at least on the surface.  Professionally, I am busier than I have ever been in my life.  There is no shortage of need for problem solvers in spite of my attempt to be ostentatious to lower the line down to only those most serious–so free time is short—and at a severe premium.  It is in times like these that one must have good constructive hobbies—and I do.  I have shared with my readers here my long history and love of strategy games—particularly combat oriented war games where I can apply methods learned in The Art of War and The Book of Five Rings to theoretical situations—which I then apply to my real life needs by washing out strategic theories against real life opponents. Currently my two favorite games of this type are X Wing Miniatures, CLICK HERE FOR REVIEW, and the squeaky new online computer game Galactic Starfighter—which is my topic of discussion today.

Galactic Starfighter has been a very pleasant surprise.  As a space flight simulator featuring aerial combat that I have been looking forward to for a long time—it has delivered spectacularly.  I have a favorite video game called X-Wing from way back in the early 90s that I used to love—the graphics were not what they are today, but the game play was infinitely interesting.  The enemies were NPCs (Non Playable Characters) and would require tight combat engagements with a variety of craft to fly and fight against.  Huge capital ships would come into the scenario and would often hyper jump into a hot zone and start dispatching enemy fighters leaving a player frantic to shoot down as many as they could in a short time and attempt to take out the large vessels by knocking out their shields then destroying their bridge where the command structure was usually housed.  I played that game with a nephew of mine for many hours—and he still talks about it 20 years later as if it were one of the most fun times of his life.  Galactic Starfighter came out only as recently as December 3, 2013 and it didn’t take me long to discover what the design team at LucasArts, BioWare, and Electronic Arts were up to.  They essentially made a game with the basic concept of the old X-Wing game and dusted it off with a slick new paint job which modern programming allows.  The flight mechanics, the ability to shove power to shields, or engines depending on need is there, directional shields, targeting reticules, telemetry data streams—it’s all there.  Only Galactic Starfighter is better.

The old X-Wing game had NPCs programmed to go after a target along fixed parameters.  Once a pilot learned the basics of these standards, the NPCs could be dominated—so the learning curve was not terribly steep once the basics of concept and flight control were mastered.  With Galactic Starfighter the entire game is PVP (player versus player) meaning the people you fly against are all live pilots.  It reminds me of a very slick version of the old X-Box game Crimson Skies and how that game played on X-Box Live.  I have now played hundreds of matches, earned over a million credits, countless ACE awards, medals, and ship requisition allowing me to purchase upgrades for my small fleet of ships—and I’m nowhere near finished with it. If anything I am more eager to play it with each match queued up.  It is that good.

But what’s even better is that my wife—who is not a typical dog fighting advocate has found she can play it with me at the same time as we have very large specially built computers designed to exclusively play Star Wars: The Old Republic which Galactic Starfighter is a part.  That is a new development for me to have a combat simulator this powerful and dynamic which can link up to another player in real-time to fly coordinated maneuvers toward separate targets.  My wife does not love speed the way I do.  It is not something she enjoys.  I love to zip in and around obstacles forcing my opponents into a mistake running themselves into a fix object with close quarter fighting.  My wife is more of a defender type who takes her time and is good at holding down the fort after I’ve taken it—which is ironically the object of the game in Galactic Starfighter—which is essentially a fancy capture the flag game.

My wife uses a gunship—which is slow, but heavily armored to hold areas that I capture with my strike fighter, and she has gotten so good at using her 15,000mm rail gun to strike down approaching enemies from a comfortable distance while I engage them up close and personal—that it has led to a devastating series of losses for the other players on the opposite team.  And she is having a blast with it.  I don’t have to coax her into playing; she is the one wanting to continue playing new rounds.  Last night it was a quarter till one in the morning and we were both trying to find a good reason to play one more match—because it is so fun—and addicting.  It has all the mechanics from X-Wing which were best I’ve ever seen even after playing Crimson Skies, all the Microsoft Flight Simulators, and even Star Wars: Battlefront—yet Galactic Starfighter goes to a new level that is unprecedented. It has a Wing Commander feel to it and is simply a combination of all the great war games beloved for years wrapped up into one very cool package.

Using that rail gun, my wife may actually have more kills than I do which should say a lot to new players not confident with their piloting skills.  In Galactic Starfighter the gunships are slow—but powerful and very deadly.  The strike fighters and scout ships are the ones that have to fly all over the battlezone engaging in dogfights with other players.  The gunships sit back like snipers and zap their enemies from a comfortable distance—and using my wife and my strategy, I engage the enemy to keep them busy while she zaps away from a distance.  So long as they are engaged with me, they don’t notice her, which then makes all the kills.  Good stuff.

I get most of my creative strategic ideas for things in the real world by playing games like the ones mentioned.  On the liberty front, there are some valiant efforts, but not enough horsepower to pull things across the finish line—and it basically comes down to a lack of will power.  People talk a good game, but when they find themselves in the cross-hairs—just as they do in Galactic Starfighter, they panic and run into something killing themselves.  If I had a quarter for each time I applied a missile lock onto an enemy and when they hear their sensor alarms go off in their ship warning them of my approaching missile, they panic and run into the side of a mountain, or a floating asteroid, I’d be able to solve world hunger by making millionaires out of each of them.  The same thing has been happening in real life—people behave as they do when they play games like this—even worse because in real life they take even less chances because it matters there.  There is no reset button in the real world.  In a game like Galactic Starfighter at least if a mistake is made, the player can start over—and hopefully learn from their error.  Because of the value of such games it is a privilege to live in a time where they can be played relatively effortlessly.  My wife and I have a very expensive set-up basically just to play this game.  We have thousands of dollars invested.  But for a casual player, they could probably get by with only a laptop.  However, when she and I are both playing vigorously, our computers with their big processors put out enough heat to warm up a good-sized room on a very cold night.  We have six cool down fans on each of our computers to keep them cool during intense graphic interfaces enduring millions of calculations per second which makes playing Galactic Starfigher even possible.  Our set-up is unusual, and it is unlikely that many of the thousands of players on the game with us at any given time have such system capability—yet they can still play and enjoy it.  Since these kinds of things are so important to us, and we do so much of it, we take the extra measures to ensure a positive experience.

New strategies are needed when the old ones are not producing the results desired.  The first step in such a process is to recognize the issue, and correct it.  The way I do that is by playing these kinds of games.  Not falling in love with a set of engagement rules is the key to discovering the best way to take out an opponent, and in the real life world of politics, business, and human relationships—there are many enemies that must be taken down—simply because their intentions dictate such a position.  For me, the best way to do that is through strategy games—and currently the X-Wing Miniatures game is at the very top of my list—but this Galactic Starfighter is right there with it.  I’m telling you all this dear reader because during the Holiday Season, there are often moments of downtime—and abilities to play these kinds of games present themselves often.  Take advantage of the opportunity, because in 2014, a lot of tough topics are on the table—and fresh minds will be required to tackle them.  One way to obtain that freshness is in the new game Galactic Starfighter.  For you people out there who have a problem with me but the law won’t let us settle things properly in a parking lot somewhere, or in a duel of some kind—look me up on Galactic Starfighter.  I’m on the Jedi Covenant server flying by the name of Cliff-hanger.  You can’t miss me, I’m the one sending craft out of the sky in exploding heaps—and I’ll be happy to add your name to the list.

Rich Hoffman

 www.OVERMANWARRIOR.com

 

“LIE OF THE YEAR” Awarded to Barack Obama: The Uncle Onyango The President never knew about

President Obama will be known for a lot of things—but his most virulent memory will be that he lied about the Obamacare legislation that his democrats crammed down America’s throat against their will with manipulation, and coercion.  The Tampa Bay Times Pulitzer Prize winning Politifact.com called Obama’s faux pas the Lie of The Year for 2013 by saying:

It was a catchy political pitch and a chance to calm nerves about his dramatic and complicated plan to bring historic change to America’s health insurance system.

“If you like your health care plan, you can keep it,” President Barack Obama said — many times — of his landmark new law.

But the promise was impossible to keep.

So this fall, as cancellation letters were going out to approximately 4 million Americans, the public realized Obama’s breezy assurances were wrong.

Boiling down the complicated health care law to a soundbite proved treacherous, even for its promoter-in-chief.  Obama and his team made matters worse, suggesting they had been misunderstood all along. The stunning political uproar led to this: a rare presidential apology.

http://www.politifact.com/truth-o-meter/article/2013/dec/12/lie-year-if-you-like-your-health-care-plan-keep-it/

Most Americans including me won’t sign up for Obamcare.  We’ll pay the fine and do without the insurance as the medical industry will decline.  Choices in healthcare will erode away because doctors won’t make a reasonable profit off the enterprise.  But that isn’t the worst aspect of Obamacare—even thought it’s very bad. The worse thing about Obamacare is that it compels every human being in America to participate whether or not they want to—or be subject to IRS harassment, and possible jail.  Just for being born in America, Obamacare compels those human beings to participate in government healthcare, and that is just a joke.  It is so audacious, so over-the-top ridiculous that it hardly merits addressing.  Most people haven’t even paid attention to that little notion—until now.  They do now because the law is being implemented, and it is started to affect them—and their reaction is understandably negative.

The government is demanding participation into a service they are ruining with their very presence—and the audacity of their expectations is simply unfathomable.  The sheer arrogance of their demand that all human beings participate in their scam is beyond measure.  And even as bad as all that is—they knew people would be upset, so Obama lied to the American people.  He has lied about his background and qualifications, he has lied about his mistakes—such as Benghazi, he has lied about his true intentions as president, and he certainly lied about Obamacare to the facts provided by Politifact.com.  Obama is a bad person, and unqualified to be president for the lies that he’s been caught in—let alone all the lies that have not yet been confirmed.  He should not only be impeached, but jailed like a prostitute or a drug dealer.  He is of the same quality.

Obama is one of those scum bags who scoots through life-like a dog with an anus itch who keeps everyone from looking at what he’s really up to with charisma which comes naturally for him.  He is worse than a typical crooked used car salesman because he doesn’t even have a car to sell, only compulsion to purchase a communist product that nobody wants or go to jail if the fines aren’t paid.  Obama lied to get Americans to listen to him, and he has put coercion behind the effort through the IRS and Department of Justice to execute the task.  A used car salesman might lie to make the sale, but at least consumers get to take home a car.  With Obama, they go home with less than the started with in cancelled insurance policies, lost opportunities for health care quality, and a lot more money out of their pockets.

The President of The United States is a liar, a cheat, and menace to American civilization.  And the proof of that statement is in what has happened with Obamacare.  The White House can spin the reason for the lies all they like, but the fact remains Obama lied and he will always be remembered for it.  Being a liar is the legacy of Barack Obama, and in the publication Politifact.com he has forever the distinction of having the “lie of the year,” which is quite a feat considering some of the things that have happened in 2013 in the public arena.

But that’s not all Obama lied about.  Recently Obama’s Uncle Onyango Obama received his green card after waiting 50 years to get it, living illegally in Boston.  President Obama has previously denied that they knew anything about Uncle Obama.  Yet at the deportation hearing recently, The White House had to grudgingly stand by the uncle—and within a few hours Onyango finally received his green card so he could stay in the country.    Here is the report from France 24:

A US immigration judge ruled on Tuesday that President Barack Obama‘s Kenyan-born uncle can stay in the US as a lawful resident, despite his decades of dodging deportation and a 2011 drunk-driving arrest.

Judge Leonard Shapiro made the decision after Onyango Obama, 69, testified that he had lived in the US for 50 years, been a hard worker, paid income tax and had been arrested only once.

Asked about his family in the US, he said he has a sister and two nieces, then added, “I do have a nephew”. Asked to name the nephew, he said, “Barack Obama,” then added, “He’s the president of the United States”.

Obama testified that President Obama stayed with him for three weeks in Cambridge while the president was a student at Harvard Law School.

“In our tradition, your brother’s kids are your kids as well,” he said after the hearing.

Wong said he didn’t receive any special treatment and was happy with the judge’s decision.

If the government appeals, a notice must be filed within 30 days. Wong said Obama could get US citizenship after five years.

The White House had said it expected the case to be handled like any other.

In the president’s memoir, “Dreams from My Father,” he writes about a 1988 trip to Kenya and refers to an Uncle Omar, who matches Onyango Obama’s background and has the same date of birth.

Onyango Obama is the second Obama family member to be found living illegally in the US. His sister, Zeituni Onyango, the president’s aunt, was granted asylum in 2010 after her first asylum request in 2002 was rejected and she was ordered to be deported in 2004.

http://www.france24.com/en/20131204-obama-uncle-green-card-kenya-usa/

Bet you didn’t know any of that dear reader…………did you?  Obama is a liar, the worst kind there is.  He lies about lying.  Yet he is in charge of the highest office in the world, and he’s likely one of the biggest criminals.  So is it any surprise that Obama has been designated the “lie of the year” honor?  And does anybody think these are the only ones?  If you do, the joke is on you.

Rich Hoffman

 www.OVERMANWARRIOR.com

 

The “Middle Class” Insult: Differences between vacations in Kansas and Hawaii

Who plans a trip to Kansas or Iowa for a vibrant family vacation that they’ve saved up for a year to embark on?  Almost nobody.  The only people who do visit these places do so primarily to visit family members. Most would consider a vacation to destinations like Disney World, Atlantis in the Bahamas, or Hawaii to be……….good, respectable, and worth the effort.  When people decide to take a vacation to a luxurious destination, there is a promise of goods and services that are beyond the scope of every day life which is the aim of their experience.  A vacation to Kansas, Iowa or any other Midwestern state lacking such luxuries just isn’t very attractive—certainly not worth saving up large sums of money to experience.  Well the same could be said when the government says that they want to bring more people into the “middle-class.”  When government oriented people, and union leaders say people should strive to be in the middle class, they are essentially saying that people should strive to vacation in Kansas instead of reaching for the stars in Hawaii.  The middle class is not a destination worth pursuing—it is simply a settlement—a concession to the life dreams of youth—and it is appalling.

The middle class is not something people should strive to become.  They should in America strive to become upper-class—or to live their lives beyond a class system all together.  They should live life beyond judgments of any kind—but if such things are required, the opinion that should be pursued is to have “class” and work to elevate their lives and the families who depend on them to heights of respectability.  To state that one wishes to become a member of the “middle class” is essentially declaring that they are taking their family to Kansas for vacation to look at large fields of farming that extend to the edge of the world.  Kansas is a wonderful place for grain production, and family value—but not exactly a vacation destination for anyone who has their eyes on something more exotic.  For people who would settle on such a vacation they are purposely avoiding the scope and culture of a world beyond those fields.

When government states that they want to expand the “middle class” they are saying that people should not strive to become members of the “elite” which is how they often see themselves.  They want a middle class because they want a voting population that is willing to settle into being comfortably numb and subservient to them.  The term middle class is the desire of the upper class—so-called—to rule over someone, and the desire is exclusively created to set a target for people’s lives which do not challenge the established peaking order of the political class—who wish to believe they rule over everyone else.

I dare anybody to produce a name to this website of a very wealthy person not involved in politics to some extent.  I’m sure there are some, but there are not many.  The reason is that wealthy people from the upper class are expected to contribute to political campaigns to keep politicians from looting their lifestyle in other ways.  This activity gives politicians the illusion that they are members of the upper class—because they tend to associate with members of society who are wealthy.  They don’t often speak to the common middle class people—until they want votes—and when they want those votes, they want to know who the middle class people are, what their ambitions are, and where they want to go for vacation.  It helps the cause of the politician if the members of the middle class don’t expect too much in life so it is easier for them to provide government services to meet their desires.  So they encourage people into the “middle class” with the same reasoning that a lazy, no good father takes his family to Kansas to watch plants grow on a farm because they are too cheap to take their family to Disney World. So politicians lower the expectations so it is easier to fulfill the parameters of a good vacation.

Calling someone a member of the “middle class” is like calling them a cheap suit, a fast food restaurant, or in more equitable terms a Ford Focus as opposed to Lamborghini.  You make do if that’s all you can accomplish, but you certainly would not consider “aspiring” to such a thing.  To accept a Ford Focus is to settle, but one should always work in their life to drive a Lamborghini………..they may never get there, but their life will be better because they at least tried.  Being in the “middle class” is to settle for a life that one is not in charge of—that is always subservient to a “ruling class” where ironically the people who are most vocal about a middle class speak the loudest.

Any education system which trains citizens to be “middle class” is deliberately stunting the economic growth of its society.  Any politician who promotes the middle class is seeking to rule over the minds of the masses.  Any citizen happy to be one of the middle class is a lazy antithesis to the dreamers born of freedom.  They are disingenuous to their nation and to themselves for setting the bar so low that they hold down everyone connected intellectually with them just a little bit—enough to have catastrophic consequences on human development.

The middle class is not something to aspire to, it is an insult—and politicians routinely utilize that dialogue so that it has become common place—so common that it doesn’t even come across as an insult.  For those who are content to say—I’m just a simple man of simple means—and am happy to be in the middle of the pack—then being in the middle class is where they belong.  But there are those who are like Richard Branson, Steve Jobs, and many others who are not content to stand in line behind the rules politicians have outlined for mankind, and be content to stay in the middle class.  They reach for the stars and sometimes snag one—and all of society is better for it.  But to catch a star someone has to reach for them, and in the middle class, most are fat, dumb, and happy to just have their average car, their average wife, their average children, their average education, their average house, their average mind, their average cloths, their average intellect and measure themselves not against the best in society but their neighbor and what kind of lawn mower they have, what vehicle they drive, and dress they way they dress.  Politicians love those types of people because they do what they are told and do not question anything that might make them stand apart from the crowd.  They are the middle class and when someone declares that they are of that “class” the term is an insult—not a credit.

No child would admire a parent who grants their family a trip to Kansas when they had Disney World as an alternative.  The reason trips to exotic places are more rewarding than those to common—easy destinations that are far cheaper, and more practical is because the expensive, hard to reach objective means more, and yields better.  It is not admirable to just be average—but trying to be exceptional is commendable—and that is a trait that cannot be engineered from the human mind.  It is attempted with modern education, but it has not been successful. People deep down inside share a love for the exceptional, and they yearn to reach for the stars themselves.  But most fall victim to the old scam from politics declaring that the middle class is a destination worthy of lifelong endowment.  Yet it’s not, being in the middle class is just an announcement that they are not a threat to the powers who crave to live in the upper class—the class where the wealthy give financial donations to parasites called politicians, and those same politicians gain the illusion of power because their associates are donors trying to buy government off their back.  Such people need someone to rule over—so they call those people “middle class” and insist that if everyone stays in that category—then the government will care for them like a nice and noble king.  It is the unsaid rule to the class system inherited by the debauchery of Europe—that the middle class exists, and is a term that should have no place in the language of America.

Rich Hoffman

 www.OVERMANWARRIOR.com

 

Kasich’s Medicaid Expansion in Ohio: Eating Sausage McMuffins with Egg and reading USA Today

A ritual I have which I have done for years is have breakfast at McDonald’s and read the USA Today over a Sausage McMuffin with Egg sandwich, a large Coke, and a hash brown.  I don’t do it every day, but often enough to call such an activity a ritual and way to touch base with a newspaper I have read since I was 15-years-old.  An article about Medicaid expansion roused my attention particularly since Ohio’s governor John Kasich bypassed the Republican legislature to expand the program under Obamacare’s Supreme Court ruling calling it a tax.  Kasich’s premise is that the money is there for Medicaid, and can be brought into the state for his benefit.  He thinks he’s doing a financially prudent thing, but he’s simply taking the cheese of the federal mousetrap set by Obama and his cronies.  For a governor who ran as a Tea Party candidate—Kasich was one of the first “traditional Republicans” exposed as a RINO after the 2010 elections—when the Tea Party put him into office—but lacked the courage to stick with the program.  The topic of Medicaid expansion in many states like Ohio and Michigan reminded me of a recent broadcast done by Matt Clark at WAAM radio in Ann Arbor.  He covered the lack of accountability recently in Washington and how the rules are often made up as they go—and the Medicaid issue is a perfect example of the shell game that often goes on in politics.  Kasich wants to make a run for President in 2016 and needs to distance himself from the Senate Bill 5 debate of 2011 where he took a hit with the public unions.  So he is targeting the poor to take away Democratic votes from any challengers in 2014 so he can get re-elected.  He is justifying the process by saying that he’s being fiscally smart—the money will be spent anyway—but he ignores that the money the government is dangling is part of the same $17 trillion that is already in deficit with the federal government and at the core of the whole problem.  Kasich by-passed his legislature to gain access to money the federal government doesn’t have so that he can run for president breaking every rule of checks and balances there is—the ends justify the means.  And he sells it as a benefit to taxpayers when the whole escapade is a validation of Obamacare which was shoved down America’s throats on a Christmas holiday way back in 2009—illicitly.  Later the Supreme Court said the maneuvers were valid as a tax increase, but that was not how the government sold Obamacare—and was deceitful—which is typical among all parties involved in the Medicaid exchange expansion at every level.  Have a listen to Matt Clark then check out the USA Today article.

http://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation/2013/12/05/rejecting-medicaid-costs-states-more/3871811/

The way that USA Today article reads, states not accepting Medicaid expansion are “losing money” which is deceitful, because the federal government is borrowing the money anyway—there isn’t any money they are giving away generated from some legitimate source.  What the government is doing with Medicaid expansion in order to promote their Obamacare legislation is basically take participating states out to dinner and paying for it with a credit card that is way over their ability to pay the bill.  It’s easy to be generous with a $1000 meal when the borrower has no intention to pay off the food—ever.  The federal government has no incentive—or desire to pay back the money it is borrowing to expand Medicaid—and is only doing it to pull governors like Kasich away from his Republican base to throw money at a voting platform that typically wouldn’t vote for him.  Kasich is looking for voter replacements that he won’t have in cops, firefighters and Tea Party supporters in the poor—which the federal government also created, just as they control the public sector unions.

USA Today is a Gannett Company, the same outfit that runs the Cincinnati Enquirer—so they tend to lean toward progressive causes.  I have read that paper for many years so I can understand how the other side thinks about things and see how such scams are promoted within the ranks of big government supporters.  But I don’t trust blindly anything they say.  They almost always have a big government position on issues like Medicaid expansion and have for over the thirty years that I have read the paper at McDonald’s.  What they always fail to cover is where the money ultimately comes from in such schemes.  They sell the story like government makes the money that is given to Ohio—and never take the story to the next level of “why.”  That is where they and politicians looking to take advantage of the general public ignorance like Kasich are disingenuous to their readers and constituents.

Kasich these days is listening to his progressive, RINO friends—all big government people who are left over fossils from the 60s.  They believe that the exploitation of the poor can be beneficial since the money is being tossed out of the federal government through Obamacare anyway, so why not take some of it.  I have heard similar comments come from 700 WLW’s Bill Cunningham demanding that John Boehner bring home some federal money to build a new bridge on I-75 in Cincinnati.  The same type of people tend to be pro-casino hoping that gambling establishments can generate more taxable income on fools stupid enough to throw their money away on chance.  All their personal philosophies are built on foolish fiscal manipulations and deceit.  Behind Kasich’s efforts of Medicaid expansion his actions are ominous in his circumcision of the state legislature and serve the end result of validating Obamacare—allowing its tentacles of power to seep even deeper into American society—which was the plan behind the federal money to begin with.

The money coming from the Medicaid exchange in Ohio, Michigan and all states that set up such fiascos is stolen money from the future of America.  It doesn’t even exist since it was created under deficit conditions.  So it isn’t fiscally responsible to take it—nobody has lost anything except the future tax payers who must fund the deficit spending that allows Kasich to win votes from the poor in Ohio for his re-election.  For a guy who ran as a Tea Party candidate—Kasich has turned out to be a terrible statist—no different than Obama in legislative policy—by-passing his legislature and ruling from the governor’s seat like an emperor.  And the federal money he is taking to win his next election is stolen from the future with a government credit card that nobody has any intention of paying off—ever!  Yet USA Today isn’t worried about any of that so long as they get more Americans addicted to Obamacare until it is too big to repeal from some future legislative body.  USA Today is supposed to be the media which creates accountability—but since they are in bed with the Obama administration and applaud the actions of statists like John Kasich—the conditions Matt Clark brought up on his radio broadcast will continue.  Government is not accountable because the media is filled with activists for statism and is intent to create a society of second handers through their published work.

Well, the news as usual was bad in USA Today—but that’s nothing new.  However, for me the good news came from my Sausage McMuffin with Egg—now that is a damn good sandwich—I never tire of them.  I could eat them like candy—and in American culture it is a great privilege to be able to purchase such a breakfast with a USA Today and read news around the world for a short half hour ritual before a new day.  The sad thing is that the news is not as good as the food—it never is.  As fattening, and unhealthy as many will claim the Sausage McMuffin with Egg to be—it is a whole lot healthier than expanding Medicaid in Ohio, or the borrowing of looted federal money with the sole intention of spreading Obamacare deep into American society where a few power-hungry idiots willing to save their political futures take the bait like headless mice from a trap set by progressives intent to end American culture.  The Sausage McMuffin with Egg is a whole lot better for America than politicians like Obama and Kasich—and their power grabs at the exploitation of the poor, and children, and women that they are so intent to utilize to advance their fun house distortions of fiscal reality with smoke and distorted mirrors that can only hide reality for so long.  USA Today is not interested in that reality—only in the ends which justify the means—and to understand that, one must know what the organization of Socialist International is all about—which the Gannett Company is fully on board with.  CLICK HERE TO REVIEW.

Scott Sloan on 700 WLW Supports ‘Kinky Boots’: The Peter Griffin Syndrome

Scott Sloan from 700 WLW reminds me of Peter Griffin from the popular Fox cartoon, Family Guy.  Sloan is much thinner, and less grotesque, but his mind seems to work in much the same way.  He lacks firm convictions and comes across as a guy happy to be less than perfect.  This became most noticeable when he did good work with me on the No Lakota Levy arguments—but then turned around and called me a sexist because his Realtor wife wanted to take a pro levy position to help sell homes around Mason.  He knew what was going on and why it was going on, but he made his decisions based on the pressure of the typical school levy supporters—people who make their livings using passed school levies to sell homes to neurotic thirty something child factories insecure about their parenting skills.  (I say child factories because these typical school levy supporters only produce children, they don’t often take an active job in parenting them.  They leave that to the public schools.)  I’m sure 700 WLW is struggling to deal with the numbers in his time slot as listeners like and respect people with conviction—but their strategy with Sloanie was to appeal to the “middle of the road” voter listening to talk radio, which isn’t very attractive to most people.  If people want to hear opinions like that, they’ll just strike up a conversation at the water cooler with a co-worker.  Because of Sloan’s lack of beliefs and conviction I have stopped listening to 700 WLW all together committing my time to The Blaze where Doc Thompson is now my preferred talk radio entertainment.  I have listened to 700 WLW since I was 5 years old when I received my first AM radio as a Christmas gift—but now I never listen unless someone tells me to catch a podcast of their recordings—which is how I came to learn about Sloan’s coverage of the controversial Macy’s Parade in New York on Thanksgiving Day.  The topic was the segment featuring the dancers of the popular Broadway Show; Kinky Boots and Sloan’s opinion was painful.  Listen to it below.

His guest came on Sloan’s show expecting to speak to a conservative audience understanding why they were outraged at the Kinky Boots presence on a family program.  I was watching the Macy’s Parade and was enjoying it until the Kinky Boots bit.  My wife and I turned it off once it came on because we thought it was bad.  I watched the Macy’s Parade to see the SpongeBob float, the Mickey Mouse tributes and other popular culture references.  The Kinky Boots thing was too much—it reminded me of The Rocky Horror Picture Show which I despise because both are progressive productions intent to erode away family value.  I don’t believe there should be some protest to Kinky Boots or Macy’s, I believe in freedom of speech and I voted by turning off the television—just like I turn off Scott Sloan’s Show these days.  I vote for things with my participation in them.  But listening to Sloan’s articulation of the Kinky Boots defense was astonishing.  In the cartoon Family Guy Peter Griffin is the dunce of modern fatherhood.  He’s not very thoughtful about anything, and is perpetually accident prone.  Yet because of his intellectual handicaps, he often imposes on the world his brand of stupidity which ruins things for everyone around him—and that was what I thought about listening to Sloan’s analysis of Kinky Boots.

I wouldn’t go to see the play Kinky Boots if someone gave me tickets and back stage passes.  It is not art I support, it is not representative of traditional America, and I have little interest in ever wasting a few hours of my life watching a play about a topic of drag dressing guys exploring alternate lifestyles.  The progressive movement uses this kind of entertainment to advance their political platform and within that platform is the acceptance of alternate forms of raising families—which does not work. Many of the failures we are seeing socially in 2013 come from the infestation of progressive value where traditional beliefs were perfectly adequate.  When progressive film makers, financiers and actors made the film—The Rocky Horror Picture Show with catchy songs and sexual deviancy which was an easy sell, the plot of the film was the break down of the main protagonists who were straight average Americans.  Over the course of the movie the young traditional couple newly married are converted by the end into gay loving, lesbian kissing Susan Sarandon’s.  The film was a cult classic that still plays on many college campuses with special midnight showings where attendees dress up in drag and throw popcorn at each other and yell at the top of their lungs with mass celebrations of collectivism.  The Rocky Horror Picture Show was designed to sell progressive ideas by ridiculing conservative ideas—and I hate it.  I don’t support it—although I have seen it to understand what all the fuss was.  My reaction to the movie was that it is one of the worst films ever made, although it has catchy songs designed to get people humming the tune.  The result of the film is to plant seeds of sexual deviancy into traditional America and destroy the concept of the family unit as the strength behind individuals.  For proof, just speak to the producers of the film and it becomes clear.  The producers intended the film to be a gay rights activism endeavor—and were openly blatant about it.

Kinky Boots is just a modern spin to The Rocky Horror Picture Show, and the intentions are the same—the desensitizing of Americans from conservative values to progressive beliefs—namely sexual tendencies—sexual equality, and an anything goes mentality.  I watched about half of the Kinky Boots Macy’s Parade segment, and found the images grotesque—so I turned it off.  I didn’t think it was funny.  I didn’t see any social value in it.  And I saw it as an attack on my way of life in the same way that progressives would find it repulsive if I paraded my lifestyle in front of them—where my wife brings dinner to my chair every day, cooks all our meals, does all the shopping, changes all the diapers, and makes crafts for all the family members throughout the year–blankets, sweaters, and country decorations.  She gets out of the arrangements a man who puts her on a pedestal, frees her of producing income, and takes care of any trouble that might come toward her family.  People like the producers of The Rocky Horror Picture Show are very intolerant of the way my wife and I live our lives—so it’s only fair that I show the same intolerance for theirs.  This live and let live crap is for pussies, and it hasn’t worked.  It never has, and it never will.

I expected a lot of the trouble I had when I called the levy supporters of Lakota Latté sipping prostitutes………….I knew there would be push back, and I laughed about it with Scott Sloan and his producer off the air the night before I was set to go on the air and talk about it with him.  I had worked with 700 WLW for a few years on school levy issues and had thought Sloan was a man’s man, and actually valued his man card.  After the position he took with me not just on our interview, but later that day, I had the feeling that I had misjudged Sloanie.  He wasn’t a tough guy who was willing to take on the teacher unions with me—like he sold himself—he was just another guy trying to appease the women in his life hoping to keep peace in his household by any means necessary—and I was very disappointed in him.  Like Peter Griffin from The Family Guy, Sloanie put his finger to the wind and took the position he thought the majority of people believed.  I tried not to hold the incident against him and continued to speak to him through email for months after.  But over time it became obvious that we were two different kind of men, and people can’t be friends or otherwise if they don’t share common values.  The same person who calls me a sexist for distinguishing that there are dramatic differences between men and women and that traditional America had more right than wrong on the matter is the same person attacking a conservative advocate who found Kinky Boots appalling.  Sloan took what he thought was a libertarian approach to the Kinky Boots issue stating that it was harmless entertainment that people can take or leave.  But when it shows up on a public street, on a public broadcast, or on a largely watched family holiday program during Thanksgiving, it’s not just about fun and promotion of a Broadway play.  It’s about advancing a progressive agenda—and in the defense of traditional value—men are needed, and there are too few of those these days to do the job.  Men these days think it’s better to be open-minded and slap-stick stupid like Peter Griffin than rugged tough and rooted in conviction like John Wayne—and that is disappointing.

During Halloween this year a kid was dressed in drag, he had on very high heels, a super short skirt and a long blond wig.  From a distance he looked like he belonged in a Whitesnake video played by a Victoria Secret model.  He passed as an attractive woman until we came closer to him and heard his voice. He was very disruptive going door to door pretending to be a woman and giggling about the negative reaction he had from the homeowners after they had closed the door.  He obviously lacked a strong father figure in his life and as a result filled his thoughts with progressive influence, like The Rocky Horror Picture Show and Kinky Boots.  What kind of father would this kid grow up to be—what honor is there in such a life where pictures of him will show up many years from now dressed in drag as he is trying to raise a family? The answer is not a very good one—and that is the real cost of this kind of recklessness.  When a man or confused boy dresses in drag, they are surrendering their man card, and in doing so; they surrender their authority to ever be a “father knows best” type of family man.  Any off-spring he may have will want “a father knows best” type of person in their life.  Daughters grow up and almost always have reverence for their fathers, and sons almost always grow up to become like their fathers and if that kid has two or three kids of their own later—those children will be denied a person in their life who sets the bench marks of acceptable behavior high enough to be proud of.  And that is the cost of living a life lacking conviction.  The cost of being a Peter Griffin dad is that you get a lot of laughs, often they are the life of a party—but when it really matters, they are a let down to their families and to themselves—and will end their lives being embarrassing disappointments to their off-spring.

Men like it or not are the pillars that hold up a family. Women often provide the love and nurturing that is needed, but men provide the needed reliability that gives a family roots to grow in.  Progressives despise this ideal, as they wish to make the world need government services to equalize the world of the inequalities that exist.  Not all moms are good ones and not all dads are honorable, so the progressive solution was to destroy all good dads and good moms so that everyone is equally penalized and let public schools do the child-raising.  What productions like Kinky Boots are really up to is letting men know it’s OK to be a floor tile inside a family home instead of a pillar of strength that holds it up—walked on and discarded as useless.  Dads are belittled routinely in popular media, and the effects are starting to show in mainstream attitudes.  People like Scott Sloan have bought into this concept and many others who have grown up watching shows like The Family Guy featuring Peter Griffin as the bumbling fool of a dad setting the bar so low for their ambitions that they are walked on by society instead of holding it up. Kinky Boots is about finding your passion, overcoming prejudice and transcending stereotypes—and one of those stereotypes is that a man must be straight-laced, strong, and a pillar of strength in their family.  And when a man can’t live up to that lofty height and stand by a set of convictions that their family can honor, and depend on—they call those traditional types of men a sexist—and hope their wife gives them a piece of ass two weeks after their last period, and consider themselves lucky for getting it.  And in the quiet moments when they think nobody is looking, they dress in their wife’s clothing and pretend to be the authority of the house by wearing her pants—then they by a ticket to Kinky Boots.

You want to see hypocrisy, let a traditional family group put a float in the Macy’s Parade full of house wives and home schooled children……………and wait for the violent storms of rage from the gay community, and other progressive groups……….and the result of all their strategies will become very, very clear.

Rich Hoffman

 www.OVERMANWARRIOR.com

 

Lunch at Bravo! Cucina Italiana: Capitalism and Galactic Starfighter

  There were a couple of really nice days in Ohio during the normally cold month of December where many of my peers went out for a few rounds of golf.  I was invited to more than one of these games—but I declined because I had a different game that I wanted to play—one that I am thoroughly obsessed with.  During this past week The Old Republic released it’s most recent release to their MMO game which my wife and I play together and that update was a space combat simulator featuring PVP action called simply enough Galactic Starfighter.  Since it came out on Tuesday–by Saturday I had shot down hundreds of opponents in dog fights through floating ship yards in a capture the flag type of game scenario—and I have been having a blast with it. It is full of detailed attributes which are boundlessly applied to multiple strategic circumstances and is a lot more fun than chasing a white ball around on a golf course with the object to knock it into a hole.  To begin to get a grasp of the level of detail, and learning curve needed to play the game have a look at the link below which features some of the basic weapons, upgrades and ship types utilized within the environment. 

http://dulfy.net/2013/11/11/swtor-galactic-starfighter-ships-and-components-guide/ When I play these kinds of things with hundreds of other real players I can’t help but make some basic observations about those players which sustain many of the comments I make in political and economic articles of a serious nature that are worth noting.  Galactic Starfighter for me is a well executed science experiment confirming the merits of capitalism and why nations should support that system of economical means as opposed to socialism.  The answer is clearly exhibited in the popular BioWare game. 
I was amazed while playing that during the queue up screen where live players sign up for a mission to fly against opposing players, I would have thought that it would take a while to find 12 real life players from each faction to load up.  There are two factions in The Old Republic, those of the Republic and those of the Empire.  The Empire are statist types who are big government advocates and love the power of collective force to impose their will upon everyone else.  Think of the Nazi regime, Stalin from the U.S.S.R. or the Obama administration—they are very much like the Empire in the game The Old Republic.  The Republic of course is very similar to the original idea of a Roman Republic most currently experimented with in The United States.  In the game scenario of The Old Republic the Republic are the good guys and are part of a rebellion to stop the rise of the Empire who are the unequivocal bad guys.  I of course play as a Republic player.  My wife and I won’t even consider playing story lines in the game that involve the Empire.  We are clearly aligned with the Republic faction ideologically.  If something like the Republic was not an option—it is likely that I wouldn’t enjoy the game so much—but because it is, and reflects my thoughts about things in the real world, it is immensely exciting for me to fight on behalf of the Republic in a space dog fight scenario meant to capture and maintain control of specific strategic targets. I would think that there would be lots of people who want to play as Republic players as they are the good guys, but that such a flight simulator would struggle to find Empire players—NO—the average queue up time was about two minutes.  Of course there were lots of Republic players lining up to fly, but there were equal numbers of Empire players as well.  In fact, sometimes it appeared that the Empire side had more pilots than the Republic side.  For this to happen there would have to be thousands and thousands of people online across over six servers wanting to play the game at all hours of the day.  The queue up time was the same at 3 AM in the morning as it was at 9 PM, or noon.  And of those players, they were equally split under their own free will right down the middle ideologically.  There were thousands of people who were attracted to the role of the Empire.  They willingly wanted to play the bad guy—which was interesting in and of itself.

When I was a kid and we’d play cops and robbers, or cowboys and Indians, or any game of good guys against bad guys—all of which public schools are trying to outlaw these days—there were fights with my friends over who would be the good guy.  Everyone wanted to play the hero and nobody wanted to be the villain—very few did anyway.  The people who did find themselves wanting to play the bad role were often the kind of kids who came from broken homes, had troubled childhoods and lived in homes where their mother worked and were often home by themselves a lot.  They couldn’t identify with the kids who had mothers who were always home, were generally loved by their parents and knew it.  The bad guys had power to impose themselves on others and that was attractive option to kids who had daddy issues—mommy issues—and genuine social insecurities.  I never played a bad guy.  I can’t even think in such terms in a role play scenario either as a kid or a grown up adult playing The Old Republic.  So it was rather stunning to see so many players who not only wanted to play for the Empire, but they were proud of it.  The funny thing about the whole experience is that Galactic Starfighter treats players who struggle through the dogfights—which are often very intense—with two forms of currency—requisition, and fleet requisition.  With that currency upgrades for pilot’s ships can be purchased and this incentive is enough to send most of those pilots into countless hours of combat so that they can get paid the requisition currency they have coming to them.  I found myself playing the game for an extra two or three hours finally turning the game off around 4 AM last night just so I could earn enough requisition to purchase concussion missiles with long-range target lock for 10,000 req.  And I wasn’t alone—there were hundreds of people doing the same thing who had played for 10 to 12 hours straight just to earn some virtual shielding, proton torpedoes, engine boosts, and armor increases.  The reason that the BioWare game of The Old Republic is successful and MMO games like it is because they offer “rewards.”  The game designers know that the human being will do just about anything for the prospect of profit, and when they have to earn it—they value it.  Galactic Starfighter would not be a fun game if everyone received the same currency no matter if they won or lost their engagements.  And if the game did not offer incentives for players to purchase ship upgrades so that they could have an advantage over another player—the game would fall flat on its face with boredom.  It’s likely that nobody would want to play, and the few who did would not be renewing the queue every two minutes with fresh players spontaneously wanting to dog fight opponents all over the world.

The game environment as I’ve pointed out many times of a MMO based endeavor is a microcosm of capitalism.  The more rewards offered, the harder people are willing to work to get them.  In the real world women get their nails done for the same reason that pilots in Galactic Starfighter paint their ships different colors—to show that they worked hard and have achieved some level of success.  When a young home owner buys a lawn mower and spends all day of a summer Saturday working on their yard, they are caring for the product of their hard work.  They worked hard to purchase a home, and they want to show it off to others.  That is the power behind capitalism.  If Galactic Starfighter were a socialist game, all the ships would be the same, none would be better than another.  All players would be forced to be equal.  Players also wouldn’t be able to win—so there would essentially be no point in even playing.  Since there is nothing to work toward, there would be no reason to risk anything and try to pit your skills up against another person.  There would be no conflict, no violence, but there would also be no activity to generate any production.  The game would be boring and uneventful.    Lucky for me, Galactic Starfighter is a wonderful celebration of capitalism in the most pure form of the word.  If any economist of the typical Keynesian school of thought wants proof of how flawed their socialist theories are, check out Galactic Starfighter at 3 AM in the morning anywhere in the world—and the evidence of capitalism’s superiority will be clear.  When Keynesian economists decided to tamper with the economy artificially with regulation, they discovered that there were fewer incentives for people to try to produce anything.  In the game environment of Galactic Starfighter the production is a vibrant world where combatants try to kill each other with specially designed ships and augmented modifications looking for a competitive advantage.  The result is activity—in the case of Electronic Arts and BioWare—money spent on their product so players can experience such a thing.  The fact that there were so many Empire players and Republic players wanting to play against each other every two minutes is a testament to the economic activity generated in the game.  As to the Republic and Empire players, one craves freedom and liberty, the other tyranny and terror, they seem to represent the same kind of voting preferences currently at play in politics where half the country voted for Obama, the other half against him, or half the voters support school levies, the other half does not—the demographic of the game between good guys and bad guys is clearly evenly balanced—startlingly so.  The Old Republic is not struggling to attract players to the Empire faction, and in my opinion if all was right in the world, it would be.  So it has been easy for me to fly against the Empire players and yell at my monitor in joy when I blast them out of the sky.  It has been tremendously fun to tear the crap out of them with my Strike Fighter and long-range concussion missiles.  As I tore through the fuselage of hundreds of enemy craft, I thought of Lakota levy supporters, Obamacare, and labor unions—and my score increased dramatically.

      I had lunch with a few of those golf friends who took advantage of the nice weather on Wednesday to play and I ribbed them about how less dramatic it was to knock a ball in from 15 feet for Birdie, than shooting down 50 enemy craft during several hours of play on the video game Galactic Starfighter.  Those same friends questioned why I had no Fantasy Football picks for the last several months, and the answer was that I didn’t find it interesting to randomly pick players from different NFL teams and hope they do well to provide me with points.  I like to provide my own points—not to passively rely on somebody else to provide them, so I don’t enjoy Fantasy Football even as a recreational sport that wastes too much of my time and thought paying attention to whether a player from a team that is not the Buccaneers had a good day on the football field.  They gave me a quizzical look as our food arrived at Bravo! Cucina Italiana–the Lobster Ravioli Alla Vodka  as the weather outside had changed from spring like weather to a dramatic snow storm.  “So what do you think about while you play that game of yours,” one of them asked genuinely.  I replied that it was a more active endeavor than passive ones where other people determined your outcome, like a football game, or gambling, which many people tend to consider entertainment.  I added that when I play Galactic Starfighter not only do I scratch the itch of a time gone by where I would have loved to have been a fighter pilot during World War II, before all the stupid rules the FFA has today, and that game gives me a feel for that kind of activity.  It also makes me wonder why we don’t have shipyards in space, similar to what we have in Norfolk, Virginia building battleships and carriers, or the Boeing facility in Washington making airplanes—in space creating space stations, and deep space transports.  One of the battle zones in Galactic Republic takes place in a Kuat shipyard and there are several half-built Star Destroyers floating around in various states of construction.  Just the previous night I chased a poor soul into the superstructure of one of these things and blasted him with so much fire that he turned out of my targeting reticule right into a giant support beam ending in a fiery crash.  You don’t get that playing Fantasy Football. 
By the end of our meal all the guys swore to me they were going to go home and log on to play.  I gave them the login information and how to find me there—but nobody showed up.  The snow came down intensely and everyone went their separate ways after that.  Once they returned home, away from my “vivid imagination” as they call it—everyone snapped back into their usual mode of thinking.  They planned their next golf games in preferably warmer climates and got ready for their Fantasy Football picks on Sunday, and I spent the rest of Friday well into the early Saturday morning playing The Old Republic: Galactic Starfighter.  The game is a perfect representation of why capitalism works over Keynesian economics and degrees of socialism.   The pilots playing Galactic Starfighter with me have as little interest in the terms of modern politics as I do in Fantasy Football.  They only know that they want to shoot and kill someone and earn requisition for the ships in their possession.   But the comparisons are unmistakable, and the explanations are valid—Galactic Starfighter is a game that proves how effective capitalism is over all other forms though valid experiments.   The current MMO marketplace is the finest modern example of capitalism anywhere in the world—and I say this on the eve of the big Pratt & Whitney machinist strike in Hartford, Connecticut—which will happen on Sunday after this writing.  America still builds airplanes better than any manufacturer in the entire world—but the socialism of labor unions is threatening that domination—purposely as the international unions behind these strikes truly want to bring progressive reform to America and end United States domination of aircraft manufacture.  Knowing those kinds of things, it is quite delightful to attack the Empire in the fictional Old Republic and take out my wrath there while the snow falls in abundance outside of Bravo! Cucina Italiana and Fantasy Football is on everyone’s mind—as the world spins helplessly out of control toward an abyss that could have been avoided—if only people opened their eyes to see it coming.  To cope with that frustration I play Galactic Starfighter.

Rich Hoffman

 www.OVERMANWARRIOR.com

 

Matt Clark and The Young Americans for Liberty: Mistakes from the past will be anger in the future

It is no longer the Tea Party which is the issue, or school levies aligned with cheating politicians.  It has been determined that much of the modern sicknesses surrounding our American culture is self-inflicted by philosophical suicide and there is no changing that in the short run.  Many of today’s Tea Party patriots supporting Glenn Beck, Rush Limbaugh, and many other traditional conservatives will see Social Security collapse, Medicare costs sky-rocket into bankruptcy, and the years of socialism they said yes to bring the greatest economy and country on earth to the brink—and we’ll be lucky to survive.  The process is already starting, but their years of spineless conviction will come raining upon their lives when Obamacare takes full hold in their families and the next decade will be shoveling ourselves out of the mess.  I’ve spent roughly 2 million words warning people how to avoid this fate, but it’s now too late, so my direction is no longer focused on those of today—but those of tomorrow—the next generation who has to deal with all these mistakes.  Those young people are now aware of the failed society that has been given to them, and they aren’t happy about it.  This is the cause of the sudden rise of the libertarian movement on college campuses which appears to be as robust as the socialist movements that took place in the same colleges during the 1960s.  These modern libertarians are the antithesis to those collectivists of yester-year, who currently sit as approval editors for all television, magazines, and newspapers.  These libertarians are socially liberal but fiscally conservative, and they don’t like much of anything that is political—leaving machine politics in serious, serious trouble.  This was the topic of Matt Clark ‘s recent radio broadcast as he sat down with the president of the Young Americans for Liberty at the University of Michigan and talked about the libertarian movement, freedom, and his student group’s activism.

I am a social and fiscal conservative—so much so that I make Rush Limbaugh look like a bleeding heart liberal.  I have no tolerance for drugs or sexual promiscuity in the party scene.  Nothing good comes from those activities—but a lot of bad does.  So I do not like much about how this new generation of young people spend their time.  But as they learn in their colleges that much of what they are paying a lot of money to learn, and realize that the debt placed around their heads just in student loans is intentionally self-destructive, their fiscal conservatism is blooming.  At that point I find I have a lot in common with those libertarian millennials.  It is at this common bond that I intended to refocus my energy—toward them.

I will be there to explain to them that the health care industry used to be the best in the world, that the sustainable wages for liberal teaching at colleges was intentionally self-defeating.  I will remind them that light bulbs used to come on bright, and that global warming mysticisms taught to them in public and college institutions was created by second-handers to gain political power, and nothing more.  I will tell them about people like John Hutchinson who could give young people the kind of world they are playing in their video games, as opposed to the village hut mentality of the current political belt way of Washington who wants to shut down Hutchinson as a freak living on the fringe of society.

I will remind them of who lied to them, who cheated them, and how it came about—throwing many logs on the fire in the coming years till the world created by second-handers which we see today is up in flames—and their influence with it.  I don’t want those second-handers in my life, and the millennials don’t either—which is why they are turning toward libertarianism for relief, and a crack at a decent life away from the mistakes of their parents and grandparents who spent twenty years voting for stupid liberal school levies only to get programmed robots as children wanting nothing to do with Republicans or Democrats now that they are of voting age.

Out of the thousands of articles I have written the two that are still the most popular are Successful People Who Did Not Go to College, and Giants in Ohio.  Those can both be seen on my sidebar to the right.  They are consistently among my top viewed articles day in and day out as they are circulated around Facebook to young people contemplating paying for another semester of socialist programming from their college, or the science that those institutions have deliberately lied to them about, which has been exposed on popular History Channel episodes like Ancient Aliens.  Behind those articles is the one I did about Malden Island and the giant statues of Easter Island.  Each article acts like a log on a fire that these young libertarians come to learning that they suspected something wasn’t quite right, and my words confirm it for them—causing them to take action.

One thing that is sure is that the world of Karl Rove, Mitt Romney and even Hillary Clinton won’t cut it.  We are not living in the 60s anymore and the Beatles are no longer popular.  The entertainment of these millennials is angry—rightfully so, and their indignant nature is a rising tide of a movement that traditional politics will not be able to hold back.  Republicans could go a long way to capturing some of that momentum if they put their effort behind Rand Paul during the next election, but they won’t do that, because most of them are second-handers, and the betting money is to put another out-of-touch New Englander like Chris Christie up for nomination, or even the very safe bet of Jeb Bush.  In so doing, Republicans will only solidify the commitment from young people to get behind a third-party candidate—as those types of people do not represent their concerns.

Democrats are trying to appeal to these millennials by giving them free stuff, but the illusion is not lost on the young libertarians.  They know that Obamacare needs their money and support to care for the elderly and sick with a massive wealth-redistribution scam rooted in socialism—and even if they did want to play the game out of empathy, they can’t because premiums are way too high because of the government created oligopoly.  By the time millennials pay their Social Security that they’ll never collect, their other taxes for 1960s War on Poverty programs which haven’t worked, and pay their student loan payments for their useless college degrees giving them no job making  over 35K per year unless they work for government somewhere—there isn’t any money for Obamacare after they pay for their cell phone bills, their cable, their online game subscriptions, and their tendency to eat out all the time because the entire generation has forgotten how to cook.

The second-handers in government have purposely avoided this topic because they don’t have an answer for it.  But I will be sure to recite the memory of all these faux pas for these young libertarians looking for a direction to vent their anger.  I fully intend to be there to point the way directing their angry mobs, and loose lips with nothing to lose from their actions.  And when those mobs arrive at the door of the current second-handers, they have good reason to be afraid.  The day of reckoning is coming down upon them and there is no way to stop it now.  They didn’t listen in the past, and will now have to pay a heavy price—and it won’t be my fault or the rising tide of libertarians pissed off at politics as usual.  They will be the first generation to get openly screwed over by all these stupid policies done in America against the Constitution, and their compliance is just not in the cards.  They have nothing to lose, and that makes them dangerous—and I intend to put my skills to work on their behalf.

Rich Hoffman

 www.OVERMANWARRIOR.com