There’s No Turning Back Now
On 09-12-09 our Country came together in Washington, D.C. to protest our government. I came back with renewed hope for my Country; I’m sure I am not alone in this renewed hope. During the trip I met scores of people from all walks of life and every corner of this land. Many people arrived without a plan. They heard of the march and felt compelled to be there. It was like a scene from Close Encounters where everyone was driven by an inexplicable force to meet at Devil’s Mountain. Not knowing exactly what to expect didn’t prevent them from understanding they just had to be there.
The march was to begin at Freedom Plaza on Pennsylvania Avenue.
The route was a mile long down the avenue to the Capital. At 8:30 a.m., Freedom Plaza itself was packed and overflowing into the street. Some of those with our group and I took up space across the street at the Wilson Building to wait for the rest our group. This side of the street, we were told by volunteers, was not part of the area which the permit was covered. 14th Street also continued to allow vehicles. I’m not sure if was part of the D.C. Police’ plans or not, but it became increasingly evident that their attempts to keep 14th Street open to traffic were futile and they closed it to vehicles. From the steps of the Wilson building, as far as the eye could see up and down both Penn Ave and 14th Street, the people were pouring in from all directions.
Those who have ever been to a championship game of their favorite home team know the feeling of being among thousands of like minded people. I have been to such a game and although the electricity is incredible, it pales in comparison to the energy of thousands upon thousands, perhaps millions (the count still isn’t finalized) of people in one place and of one heart… love of Country.
I was not expecting to be overwhelmed with emotion and the tears on my cheeks caught me off guard. When I turned to those beside me and saw their moistened faces I could no longer contain my feelings. Until this day, I had been filled with anger at my government and fear for my Country. Anger so strong and bottled that I had been snapping at those closest to me. Anger so strong that I was learning what it felt like to hate. That anger collided with love on Saturday and together they healed my broken soul. I wasn’t alone.
One by one at different moments during the march each of us became overwhelmed with the emotion and energy of the crowd. We wept tears of happiness and tears of sorrow for our Country. Until you have cried tears of love for your Country and tears of loss for your freedom it is impossible to understand why we marched; why we are so passionate for our beliefs; why we feel remorse for the direction our Country is heading.
On that beautiful day in D.C., we marched. Young and old, healthy and infirm… we marched. Kids with signs, kids in strollers, kids in costume. Parents and grandparents. People with walkers, canes, and wheelchairs. We marched. All came to Pennslyvania Avenue and made the mile long trek past office building windows filled with onlookers. We marched with one mind… to stand at the Capital and roar with one voice that we have had enough.
And roar we did! One of the most incredible moments of the entire event took place a couple of blocks into the march. From far behind me in the crowd I could hear a rumbling. I wasn’t sure what the eerie sound was but as it drew closer my spirit leaped in recognition. I let the first wave wash over me and move forward through the crowd as I listened to thousands of people chant, “U-S-A, U-S-A, U-S-A.” With the next wave I joined in as we yelled in one accord, “You Lie! You Lie! You Lie!” The raw pure emotion experienced in wave after wave of ever increasing crescendos of chanting was a liberating experience.
If you were to ask the marchers why they were there you would likely get just as many diverse answers as there were creative, hand made signs. If you were to question them further and inquire as to whose fault it is that our government has gone so far awry, the vast majority would point to themselves for allowing it. This is where Washington has underestimated us. We are awake now and we are watching. Things will NEVER be the same.
The New American Address
If my math is correct, our election day was 40 weeks ago today (Nov 4, 2008). I was just listening to some music played by the sub on the Mark Levin show, and I began to recite the Gettysburg Address in my head. (I went to school back in the day when they made us memorize stuff.) This prompted me to start looking at the calendar, counting the miserable weeks that we have had to stand by and watch our Constitution be dismantled, and I decided to update Lincoln’s precious words to apply to what is happening in our country today. I hope he would not mind; he is a tremendous inspiration to me, and we might reflect on the perils in the country he had to deal with in his day, and take heart. He brought our country through a terrible time of history. They just do not make many statesmen like him, do they? So many brave Americans before us gave their lives for this country. For them, we must remember, United We Stand.
The American Address, 2009: Two score weeks ago, our uninformed, oblivious countrymen brought forth on this nation an Obama-nation, conceived in Marxism and dedicated to the proposition that all created men are equally controlled by government redistribution of the wealth.
Now we are engaged in a great culture war, testing whether this Obama-nation, or any nation, so ill-conceived and so oppressed, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of town-hall meetings and tea parties to fight this war. We must come to dedicate a portion of ourselves to this battle, in honor of this resting place of those who preceded us and gave their lives that this previous nation might live. It is altogether imperative and proper that we should do this.
But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow this ground, until we remove the obstructions to our Constitution from office. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled before us, have consecrated it far above the power-hungry Congress to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember, what I say here, but we must never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated and focused to the unfinished and threatened work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us-to preserve the Constitution in spite of those who defy the oath they took to uphold it; that from these honored dead we take increased inspiration and devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion- that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain—that this nation, UNDER GOD, shall have a new birth of freedom- and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.
Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address: Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.
Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.
But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate — we can not consecrate — we can not hallow — this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us — that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion — that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain — that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom — and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.
Now I Get It!! or, How to Protest the Liberal Way
We’ve all heard Barbara- Don’t Call Me Ma’am- Boxer’s comment about the townhall protesters being well dressed and hence, not grassroots. Seems those on the left believe that their own constituents are nothing but low rent, can’t dress properly for public exposure imbeciles. If I was a liberal I would be mad as hell that my leadership thinks so little of not just my manners but also my ability to articulate my grievances in a civilized fashion. And then I saw this… a video of anti-Bush protesters from 2004. They called themselves The Smoketown Six. This video shined a whole new ‘moon’ light on Boxer’s comment. Seems liberals indeed don’t wear clothes to protest rallies.
Caution- ugly liberals butts are shown in this video:
Why I’m a 27 Year Old Conservative
I grew up in the liberally elite state of Connecticut, inundated with yacht clubs, country clubs, and various people suffering from the chronic condition of cranial rectal disorder. Connecticut was a cross between the cinematic masterpieces of Pretty in Pink, Mean Girls, and the Stepford wives. I never lived on the right side of the tracks, like Molly Ringwald, was never popular, nor did I want to conform to the rest of the “wives” living in the neighborhood. I was dead set to go against the grain, remaining true to my morals and beliefs. Growing up in Connecticut allowed me to see the superficial hollowness that becomes so prevalent in elite society. Read more
