John Wayne, Where Are You Now That We Need You?
By Allan Sanford
(About every year or so I trot out this article I wrote maybe 3 years ago, to see if anything has changed, to see if WE have changed, to see if our country has changed. It has, but not for the better).
Let’s really set the stage of events, Sheeple of America. Let’s get a proper perspective on what is being done to all of us, to the very essence of our society and country. Let’s start on the Mexico/Arizona border, where the president of all the people has declared that nobody may be asked to identify themselves to a law officer. Our splendid president has taken the people of Arizona to federal court, and to a UN court (where Cameroon will decide how we should behave, what laws we should pass), to make sure that our southern border remains wide open to anyone who cares to come into our country. If they get here, they will stay here, since Mr. President has decreed them off limits to being exposed as being here illegally, and has recently decreed that they can stay legally. There’s no one screening these people so the thieves, radical Islamists and murderers can relax and not have to look over their shoulders anymore. Barack Obama says so.
Who says that every one of the thousands of people illegally crossing into America are all Mexicans? Is it possible that there is a Mexican lookalike who originally came from Yemen, who is carrying a backpack filled with plastic explosives, or a guy with a nuclear device in a suitcase, who hides himself in that night’s crowd of river-crossers? You bet your life it’s possible, and it’s made more possible because all of the people who might intercept and catch this criminal are legally AND GEOGRAPHICALLY kept from doing so. I say geographically because they are all stationed in airports across America, shoving their fingers into women and grabbing the testicles of men, stripping children, exploring the bodies of nuns and octogenarians, who have lost their right to be left alone as well as their very clothes, and in public. And we all let this happen, every day.
Okay, Merle and Ned, Americans, this may not be enough to generate some outrage in your innocent sense of the rightness of things, so let’s keep going down this Yellow Brick Road, this cowardly yellow road to perdition. I remember seeing grainy black and white pictures of events in Germany in the late 1930’s and early 1940’s, when Mr. Hitler decided that he would present the German people with another reason for keeping him in power. It was the small matter of eliminating Jews and gypsies and gay people and anyone he didn’t like, to the tune of 11 million, so that Germany would be rid of unpatriotic dissenters to the Third Reich. I so remember one picture of a boy, about 10 years of age, standing with his arms outstretched from his shoulders, while a Nazi was running his hands over this child’s body, searching for God knows what, that might be hidden on the child’s person.
We have now, today in America, brought that photograph full circle from Germany 1940 to America 2013, and we see pictures of American children just about the age of that little German boy, with their arms outstretched from their shoulders, being searched by other Americans, looking for God knows what, just as happened 70 years ago.
And there is no outrage in our dear country, in our “Homeland,” no recognition that the little German boy is alive again, giving us all the opportunity to see the disease that is consuming our country, this time with a face from Boston, not Berlin. America has now entered the chronic phase of a sickness that will surely kill us, that will allow the beasts who live on power to rule the country. In order to do that, they must convince us that they are doing all of these offenses against humanity and dignity and our God-given rights as people, in order to protect us. To protect us. To protect us. From what? And how?
They say from terrorists. What’s a terrorist? It’s someone who doesn’t agree with how you are living and is willing to die, himself, as long as he kills you, too. The only way he can be successful is if he kills all of us, and that won’t happen. So he is doomed to fail. But there IS another way for him to win. He can win if he scares us all into accepting us living in a country where freedom is lost. So Merle goes to an airport to visit Aunt Tilly in Duluth, and a news reporters sidles up to her while she waits patiently in line with a hundred other sheeple, hoping that the examination won’t hurt too much, hoping she won’t be put in jail if she speaks the wrong words too loudly, and the reporter asks Merle how she feels about having the most private parts of her body fondled by a stranger, and she parrots a line she saw on CNN in which an equally stupid guy says that it’s okay for someone to squeeze his nuts in order for him to not be blown out of the sky. It’s okay for him.
You jerk, don’t you realize that THEY have already won? They don’t have to blow your sorry ass out of the sky. You gave them victory when you stood in that line and let yourself be sexually abused, and allowed an $11-an-hour US government TSA employee to take away your priceless constitutional right to be left alone. Everyone in that line handed these malevolent devils victory over the most basic things that make America, America, and different from Saudi Arabia, or North Korea. You are quietly handing over the things that millions of Americans died for, the million things that make us, or rather made us, the shining beacon on the hill, that lured and beckoned and enticed hundreds of thousands of people from every other part of the world to uproot themselves and their families, their wives, uncles, and children, from the corroded, freedomless societies they lived in, to come here with nothing in their pockets but a dream of living free and able to become the most that they could.
Where is the outrage? In America, in the 1960’s, our kids started dying in Vietnam, and the streets were silent, except for the moan of anguish when a mother stood at the front door of her house, being told by a uniformed chaplain that her baby boy has been blown up, blown to pieces, in the Mekong Delta in South Viet Nam, and she shrieks and collapses on the porch floor, and hugs to her chest the piece of paper the chaplain leaves with her. Now it’s Afghanistan, and still there is silence.
It was not enough, that soldier/son’s Viet Nam death notice. The street stayed silent, with only the tiny sound of that mom’s teardrops hitting the floor. It took years for that tiny noise of tears to awaken America, but when it did, it changed the world. The protests became a tsunami of outrage that swept through Washington, DC, and forced a president back to Texas. America beat him, we beat him, and the war ended.
The question is, were Americans that much different 50 years ago than they are now? Are they taller, fatter, more stupid, smarter, more gutless, more cowardly? These questions are now hanging over our heads as Americans, as our despotic rulers continue their surge towards complete subjugation of all of us. Do we cower and whimper, “Yes, sir, I’ll do that?’ even though the “that” is destroying what has made us a great country and society, the like of which has never before been seen on this world?
Are you prepared to wake up to a glorious morning of sunlight that warms you to your bones, and then realize that there is no way for you to make this day better because They have taken away all of your options, and you have to go to Them for permission to do anything with your life? Don’t laugh, Ned. It’s already on your doorstep. And your doorstep, today, starts at your airport, where every passenger gives at the “office.” Gives a bit of their freedom. Gives a bit of their dignity. Says it really doesn’t matter that much.
Let’s create a fantasy. Let’s bring back John Wayne, an American who was seen by many Americans as being the essence of what made us different from Europeans and Asians. He was a simple man, with simple values, at least he was in the movies, and since this is our fantasy, and we can do with it whatever we wish to do, let’s have him step into the Oval Office, with Barack Hussein Obama, a small man in every way, sitting feet up on the desk of giants. Mr. Wayne walks across to the desk, with that amazing kind of shoulder side-to-side rocking motion he had, stops in front of the president, and says, “You must be kidding, sonny.”
Allan Sanford is a passionate writer, artist, and entrepreneur. He is hoping that this country can finally get its politics right. He loves to argue. With any thoughts, ideas, comments, or questions, please email Allan, at allan.sanford@gmail.com
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