Have you ever been in a
pickle, but did not discover it until you passed the
point of no return? I have. The Student Chapter of
the American Veterinary Medical Association held
their 1980 annual conference in Baton Rouge,
Louisiana. Several dozen of we frugal Colorado
stators packed into 15-passenger vans for the
pilgrimage to Cajun country for three days of
professional seminars and socialization. (I included
the word “professional” because we did actually
learn something.) We were all poor college students
unlearned in the popular “Occupy this” techniques of
2011. We never imagined we could just party our way
down the Mississippi, roll the costs into our
student loans and then default them onto the backs
of Americans who actually had jobs. In the old days,
we each paid our own way.
The last night of the event was a coat and tie
send-off banquet ‘n dance and after dinner I was
stomping around the dance floor with Big Sue, a
classmate nicknamed because she was a six-foot tall,
stout, ranch kid who could stack bales better than
most boys. Sue was recognized around vet school by
the little pink lambs she embroidered on the lapels
of her hospital coveralls, but for this banquet she
swapped her Carharts for a very nice flowered dress
and high heels—attire she later regretted.
To this day, I don’t know exactly what happened, but
the mud which had been tracked inside combined with
the spilled beverages on the hardwood floor made the
footing treacherous and more suitable to Muck boots
than high heels. During the Colorado modification of
the Polka, Big Sue’s feet shot out from under her
directly towards me. Instantaneously, her high-heels
pinned each of my boots to the floor and the
strictly enforced laws of gravity began pulling her
backwards. I snapped my back muscles taut and shot
my bottom out in a futile attempt to offset the
pendulum in the white dress pulling me forward. For
one millisecond this skinny kid and Big Sue hung in
equilibrium, but then she splashed to the
floor…unfortunately with me sitting right on top of
her. I froze like a deer in the headlights and sat
motionless while Sue laid there soaking up her
surroundings. She could have killed me with her bare
hands, so it was good she was the amiable type.
In retrospect, the second I realized Sue was
crashing, I should have just let her go. It would
not have been exactly chivalrous, but with the
gymnasium so packed, spectators would have assumed
the crowded dance floor caused the crash. Stopping
to pick her up would have looked heroic; the image
of me sitting on her like a buzzard perched on a
fence post appeared less so. This, believe it or
not, brings me to my political point.
If you are a superficial consumer of news, you may
not have recognized the recent failures of our
intrusive and rapidly growing federal government.
These are not accidents, they are purposeful and
here are two examples where the ruling class is
using deceit and the power of government to lead
America off the cliff.
Example one: The Chevy Volt was hailed as
government’s perfect clean-n-green machine. In the
marketplace, the Volt lacked size, power,
reliability and safety, was horribly expensive and
consumers hesitated to purchase one unless someone
else paid for it—so the ruling class arranged hefty
subsidies. Amazingly, 1139 units were eventually
plugged into American garages. Last week we learned
a Volt in a fender-bender becomes a major fire
hazard and can self-immolate months after the
accident. This drawback was known and suppressed by
the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration
so as to not hamper sales. The same clowns
manipulating the auto market are also manipulating
the healthcare system, does that not scare you?
Example two: In “Fast and Furious”, gun control
advocates in the Department of Justice flooded
Mexican drug cartels with American made firearms.
The predictable “surprise” appearance of American
weapons at drug crime scenes would make the US
populace reflexively accept greater gun control
measures under the perception of greater public
safety. By expanding federal regulation, the Second
Amendment, along with most of Constitution becomes
nothing more than a curious relic of days past.
“Regulation is the key to stabilization,” is how
Huxley put it in Brave New World.
My point is this. Marxism has failed everywhere it
has been tried. There is no reason for progressives
to hang on to the failed ideology in hopes it just
might work this time. It won’t. Similarly,
conservative Democrats across the hinterlands must
realize their party has replaced the principles
espoused by Jefferson with those of Marx. You should
do as I should have done on the slippery dance floor
in Louisiana when I realized a crash was imminent,
just let go. Do not let those destroying our great
American republic pull you over the edge and into
the abyss.
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