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#IAmAndrewBreitbart

I have often found it interesting – and a tad amusing – to see what my leftist friends on Facebook post. Mostly it makes me want to shove a pencil in my eye as I bemoan the seeming lack of one original thought regarding the issue du jour that they’ve posted, but I do end up finding it interesting because I generally don’t find myself attracted to friendships with people who, if they were to – not knowing it was me – either hear or read an expression of my core political beliefs and standards, would demand I be summarily shot in the head and left in a ditch. As it is, because they know me my beliefs are “quaint” and because I grew up in a conservative area I was “unable to avoid the brainwashing” (my own personal choices – career, life, and otherwise – notwithstanding) so endemic to the area. It’s a lazy assumption, but what more can you expect from people who live their lives by the words of Keith Olberman, a man who would probably explode if he had to talk to anybody as an equal (as opposed to his sarcasm-laced screeds wherein he talks down to people so enamored of him that they positively lap at his feet)?

Of course, I can’t possibly, like they apparently believe they did (leftists are nothing if not insanely elitest and overconfident in their ability to reason), have escaped constant conservative browbeating (we’ll just conveniently forget the fact that my parents never really talked politics at home and I didn’t become interested in politics at all until my job ended up smack dab in the middle of a foreign policy nightmare). No thinking person, after all, could possibly believe the government that governs least governs best. What thinking person could possibly believe that they, as an individual, are more qualified to dictate what they will and will not do in their own life than some bureaucrat in Washington, D.C. who is more concerned about choosing the color of his new Lexus than he is about your measly little appendicitis issue? I mean, really, you should be thanking the various government-approved religious figures (as long as it’s not God) for that bureaucrat. /sarcasm

Recently I’ve begun to take the position that I just don’t care. I find arguing with people who are constantly outraged about stuff they clearly know nothing about tiring and counterproductive. Afterall, I could instead be spending my time doing things that actually make a difference – like my job. Or talking to somebody with more than two brain cells to rub together and whose natural voice tone is not “shrieking banshee of outrage.” I have found that it helps me keep from wanting to slam my head into the corner of a desk to make the pain of listening to a leftist attempt to express an “original” thought stop. It also has kept me from wanting to randomly scream “I told you so!” as every single policy the left has been dead-set on enacting has either failed miserably or turned out to be an over-priced, flat-out, bald-faced lie (can’t very well scream about telling people so if you didn’t actually tell them, can you?).

And I could sit back and let the few leftists I know on Facebook continue to amuse me with their lack of even a basic understanding of such subjects as economics, human nature, and national sovereignty as it applies to the protection and guarding of borders, national security, and international law (international law being little more than sugar-coated, anti-American fraud). I could sit back because Andrew Breitbart had the helm.

The man was ruthless in his attacks on the left. And he was constantly beating them at their own game, on their own turf. Even while they were employing a well-worn leftist tactic of changing the rules, he was one step ahead of them. He knew what the rule-shift was going to be before they did and he played them like a master plays a 500-year-old violin. Andrew Breitbart was, quite simply, a tactical genius. I didn’t have to lift a finger and could enjoy my time as a retired amateur pundit because his pen was mightier than any sword I could ever wield. The man was a rock star, and I took immense pleasure in watching him skewer the left. It’s always a beautiful thing to watch people who don’t know they lost before the fight even started continue to trash talk right up to the moment they take a right hook to the kisser, then have to slink away and hope that nobody noticed. Lucky for them the MSM would obfuscate – or just flat out lie – to hide their shame… Unlucky for them Glenn Reynolds’ advice to always have a camera on you has generally been taken to heart by pretty much the entire right side of the blogosphere – a side of the blogosphere, I might add, that finds information and personal responsibility more useful than “They’re trying to steal your lady-parts”-type hysteria filled with half-truths and false equivalencies*. (*Note: just because a person doesn’t agree with the use of an item, it does not mean they want to ban it and take it away from you. And the “lady parts” line was shamelessly stolen from Glenn Reynolds of Instapundit fame.)

But now Andrew Breitbart is gone, and over the past few days my one thought has been, “Who will take over now?” Who, indeed. It has occurred to me over the course of my grieving that I may have laid down my sword too early. I leaned on Breitbart because I was – and still am, to be quite frank – sick of the endless flow of waste and bile spilling out of the left. I was sick of getting splashed with nothing to show for it. I was sick of wasting my time talking to people who are so caught up in hate and their own selfish me-me-me attitudes that what little bit of a burden I could have shouldered I instead left to a guy who was willing to shoulder it all.

Think of how much more could have been accomplished if we had all fought the good fight right alongside Andrew. Through thick and thin, through the worst the left has to throw and through their laughable attempts to coherently talk about national policy of any type. Think of how much more could have been done if everybody had taken just a little bit of the load off of Andrew and started flinging the filth right back at the people who started throwing it in the first place. They’ve already given us the ammunition. We don’t need to fall on our swords to win this culture war. In the words of a man far more wise in the ways of tactics than I:

“No bastard ever won a war by dying for his country. He won it by making the other poor dumb bastard die for his country.” -General George S. Patton

That being said, I can’t promise to always be on the frontlines. I don’t have Andrew’s stamina in the face of the fight. Sometimes I need to step back and take a breather. But if there are enough of us who are willing to take up the fight, enough of us who are willing to stand up and channel the ghost of Andrew Breitbart, we’ll have enough troops in reserve to come forward and join the fight when those on the front need a rest. And the left will rue the day they crowed about and celebrated the death of one man. Because Andrew Breitbart’s legacy will crush them under the weight of a hundred a thousand a million Andrew Breitbarts.

#IAmAndrewBreitbart

I hate neo-feminism

I consider myself to be a classical feminist. I certainly want to be afforded the same opportunities as men to prove myself in whatever occupation I should choose. What I don’t want is to have the goalposts shifted in order to give me an unfair advantage in the name of “women’s rights” and “diversity.” Along with that, I have major issues with the portrayal of men in the media.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had my share of “men are stupid/pigs” thoughts. But the fact of the matter is that men don’t have a monopoly on being assholes; women are doing a bang-up job of portraying themselves as complete bitches.

Try to remember the last time you saw a popular media product that showed a proud male character that may have been flawed, but wasn’t a complete idiot that needed to be saved by his drop-dead gorgeous wife – who will often spend time with friends who question her choice in men without putting up any defense for the man she supposedly loves. Having a hard time thinking of one? I’m not surprised.

One of my least favorite portrayals of a man bending to a woman’s will is the commercial for a Windows phone:

I LOATHE everything about this commercial (which inspired this post). One of the biggest things about this commercial that gets under my skin and irritates the hell out of me is how the woman tries to make the guy more feminine – which, for reasons known only to batshit insane women and their male apologists, apparently adds to the appeal of the man (ugh). The other huge thing that annoys me is how the man JUST TAKES IT! WTF!?!?!? You’re a dude! There’s no reason to take that crap! It’s one thing to take some style advice; it’s a completely different thing to let your girlfriend/wife humiliate you in public. Do you think any guy in his right mind would have put on that outfit if his buddy had told him to? Hell no! He would have told his friend to go screw himself. But men nowadays have been so cowed by the whole feminist movement that if he refuses an insane request from a female he’s the douchebag. Conversely, if the woman were to refuse an insane request from a man she’s hailed as a liberated woman standing up for herself.

This may just be an opinion, but I really think much of this attitude is a direct result of how children are currently being raised. Girls are told they are special and that they’re “daddy’s little princess” while boys are told to never hit a girl, even if she hits him first, and that they essentially can’t be boys (rough housing and in general just doing what boys do are no-no’s now). Boys are constantly being told to have respect for the girls while the girls are taught no such equivalent. Boys are there to make the girls feel special, and the girls are there to make sure the boys stay in line and act civilized (though, of course, the girls get the message that you can never really expect boys to be civilized on their own, you have to nag them into it). What a bunch of crap.

You can call me a “gender traitor” or whatever else makes you feel better about yourself, but I think the whole neo-feminist movement is complete bullshit. Men have their issues, but women also have issues of their own and for an entire movement – which is sadly ( but not surprisingly) supported by weak beta-males – to advance the idea that women are superior to men just based on the location of their plumbing and a perceived lack of ability to think with anything but their “equipment” is disgusting and I for one am sick of seeing them portrayed in such a way. I’ve known a lot of douchebag guys, but I’ve known a lot more stone-cold bitches who treat men they supposedly love like little more than slaves.

This post is by no means an exhaustive treatise on the horrible treatment men must endure while women are given a pass. It’s just something I feel strongly about and felt the need to rant about. If you want some really good stuff to read on the subject, I’d recommend Dr. Helen’s writings on men’s issues. (Dr Helen is the wife of the Blogfather, Glenn Reynolds, of Instapundit fame.)

Because I LOVE this song so you must too!

The whole enchilada

Clips are great if you want to illustrate details and specific points, but I love it when I get to see the whole thing a clip came from because then I get the entire context. So without further ado, enjoy (if I can use this word here) the full interview with Yuri Bezmenov, which I’d posted small snippets from before.

Clarifications

There was a message I got that I never did get around to responding to and I figure it’s about time I straighten out a few things. The only thing you really have to know that might help you understand this better is that the area I identify as home is a fairly conservative area – though I by no means spent my entire life growing up there. I also spent some time in what I get the impression was a shady area around L.A. and a good two year stint in the Middle East. I was by no means sheltered; I had plenty of exposure to different cultures and religions. Far more than what I’d imagine the average American experiences in a lifetime. All by the time I was ten.

Growing up I didn’t have much interest in politics. I did read the newspaper, but I usually skipped anything about politics because it seemed boring. Every once in a while something that had some connection to politics would catch my eye and I’d read it but by and large I didn’t really care. And I believed just about anything that was written in the paper – which explains why for the longest time I thought Rush Limbaugh was just a giant asshole picking on Howard Stern (yes, I really did think that based solely on an article I read). At one point I remember thinking it was possible to make the Palestinians and Israelis like each other if we could just get them to dialogue. Or if somebody would just passionately speak to them about the wonders of unity. (I was young and naive, don’t judge me!).

In high school I had a little bit of an identity crisis. I’d always been taught to be proud of who I am and to love my country. But all that newspaper reading – even though it was mostly non-political – had drained a lot of that out. I was far more interested in European cultures than my own. They seemed more refined, more worldly. To me, they seemed to “get it.” Where the USA had no history or culture in my young mind, Europe had gobs of it. They had hundreds of years of history, castles that had lasted centuries, and great, exotic foods, whereas the USA has a couple of hundred years of history marred by thousands of dead natives, slavery, and a rather embarrassing lack of sophistication. This is what I started to think based solely on what I had read in the paper. I was certainly not a conservative and my parents, God love ’em, didn’t try to change my mind or bury me in evidence I was wrong. My dad in particular listened to my concerns and tried to answer my questions, but he never pushed a political agenda. Even into my senior year in high school I was convinced that Europe was somehow better – and even expressed that to my friend (who is European).

Despite all that I’ve always had a thing for the military. I’ve always liked the idea of carrying on a tradition, so even though what I really wanted to do was to go directly to college, it didn’t bother me at all when I realized I didn’t have the grades to get scholarships to pay, so the military would be the only way I was going to get a reliable job and make money for college. But even then my opinions about a lot of things never shifted. America was still the embarrassing little sibling with snot running down its nose and dirty clothes carrying around naive ideas about life and culture. So you can imagine how overjoyed I was to find I was getting stationed in Germany. When I found out where I was going I felt like I was finally going to get the culture I had been craving.

To an extent, that was true; I loved my time in Germany and I wouldn’t take a minute of it back. I made great friends, traveled to some pretty cool places, and ate some delicious foods. But by the time I was out and on my way back to the good ole’ USA I had realized something: Europe is not all it’s cracked up to be. I think a big eye-opener was what happened after 9/11, when flowers were laid outside the base gate and “everyone was an American” only to be replaced just a couple months later with protesters dead set against our current policies. I dealt with troops who had run-ins with locals who attacked them when they found out they were American and I remember being told to be extra careful when out in the city at night because as military we were walking targets to any goons who wanted to mess with the Americans. Being military AND American was like a double whammy. When I went to a soccer game with some friends and we decided to hit a popular bar area afterwards, we had a bit of a friendly rivalry going on with some other guys who happened to have been rooting for the other team. Until they realized we were Americans (and very obviously military – you can’t disguise a military guy’s haircut), at which point friendly soccer banter turned to some pretty insensitive political hounding.

I know some people will say that’s just my personal experience in one area, what do I know? Let me contrast that with the time I spent in Japan. Not only were the Japanese thrilled that I was American, they were genuinely impressed with and incredibly interested in the fact that I was in the military. When I was out shopping with a friend we found some Navy BDU pants with the name still sewn on above the back pocket and I thought it was amusing. My friend told the shopkeeper that I was in the US military and he thought that was just the coolest thing ever. When I went to an elementary school as part of a class activity and a little girl came up to read my name tag (which also had my nationality on it) she was super excited to find out I was an American and expressed it by running back to her friends shouting “America-jin! America-jin desu!” (“American! She’s American!”)

At this point you’re probably wondering what my point is. Well, it’s this: in the time I spent overseas I learned a few lessons that were really hard to swallow at first, but over time have stopped being the bitter pills they initially started out as. I saw firsthand what it was like to live in a country where nobody had any pride in who they were, much less where they came from. I saw what it was really like to live in a country that is desperate to bury its past indiscretions instead of really owning up to them, admitting they happened, and then moving on. It was depressing, if you ask me. Nobody in Germany was proud to be German. All their amazing history, warts and all, and the only time any national pride would kick in was when a soccer game was going on. That was a real shock to me, because even though by the time I moved to Europe I had a pretty low opinion of a lot of the stuff my country had done, I was proud to be an American. Even though I thought we were uncouth hicks with a bit of a chip on our shoulder I realized we’d done some pretty darn amazing things and I’ve always been proud of the fact that we can own up to the mistakes we’ve made in the past.

Think about it: when was the last time you heard anybody talking about the European slave trade? The American slaves didn’t get here by chance, they were brought over by Europeans, who bought them from warring tribes in Africa. But if you mention slavery the US is the only one anybody ever talks about. And if you’ll notice, we’ve never tried to justify it or made fake mea culpas. We’ve acknowledged it and we’ve attempted to move on. The only reason it’s still an issue today is because certain entities need a victim class or they’ll lose their funding.

Another thing to ponder: how many “empires” have you ever known to give land back? Our military, stationed around the world, will pick up at the drop of a hat and move if our government is told the local people don’t want us there. We have graveyards in Europe. That is the only permanent land we’ve kept outside of the 50 states. Even our protectorates periodically vote as to whether or not they want to become states themselves or completely sovereign. And if they did want to leave we’d let them, because that’s how we roll.

I learned a lot about the US just from living outside of it. I’ve learned that vastly different cultures look at the world in a completely different way than we do from living in those cultures. And since 9/11 I’ve learned a lot about foreign policy because it directly affected my job at the time. None of my opinions on foreign matters from high school survived slamming into the real world. Not one. Domestic matters took a little longer, but given my experience with somebody I know who is currently wasting my tax dollars – and has been for a long time – my pie-in-the-sky opinions about “evil” rich people and “oppressed” poor people haven’t survived the Real Life Cluebat©, either.

To sum it all up, the opinions and positions I now hold are based on a lifetime of experience, not some “hard-coding” in my brain’s wiring because I spent a good deal of my life growing up in a conservative area. I know that will upset some people. I know that some people like to see me as being unable to change because it makes them feel better about the time they’ve spent talking to me; if it’s me that has the problem – if I’m the one who can’t change – then they don’t have to rethink any of their opinions or positions. Ultimately, I’m fine with that. I know who I am, I know what I stand for, and I know none of that came to me as easily as they’d like to think it was. I had to make a lot of mistakes and be willing to change A LOT of preconceived notions I had. Even now I’m still evolving in my opinions. Some might be set in stone, but that doesn’t mean the stone can’t be cracked. Heck, where I used to be a pretty hardcore conservative (following my bout with liberalism in high school) I’m now pretty hardcore libertarian politically.

I’m talking to you, the person who whines nonstop about “compassion” for the poor illegal aliens who just want to live the American dream. And you know, I’ve thought a lot about it, and I’m prepared to mend my ways. But I need a bit of a compromise. Just a little nothing you’ll never notice at all.

We’ll agree that people can jump the border without going through the proper channels if I can walk into the back door of your house any time I want. I’m fully willing to acknowledge the plight of the illegal if I can raid your fridge for my food – keep it stocked with vegetables, some fruits, and milk; a LOT of milk. I’ll gladly help pay for their kids to go to school if I can boot one of your kids from their room – yeah, it’s mine now. And I’ll even help pay for their medical care if you agree to give me the equivalent of one social security check – to include the amount for 10 offspring – every month. While all this is going on you’re not allowed to call the police, nor are you allowed to kick me out, deny my access to food, or dispute my use of your health insurance plan (which you’ll immediately put me on, of course) as I wrack up huge medical bills by going to the E.R. whenever I get the sniffles or stub my toe.

Hey, it’s all about the compassion, isn’t it? I’ll be leaving my home and belongings behind so that I can mooch off of you like the illegals you are morally supporting live the American dream so why are you calling 911?

…is to immediately start asking what they get out of promising you free stuff – aside from getting elected, of course. I also find that when they start talking about how much stuff they’re going to do for you it will inevitably lead to somebody getting a whole lot of money. And no, that person won’t be you.