HOPE?

High Pressure Edge

HOPE?

The Missing Tax

By Stephen L. Wilmeth

           

            If anyone would submit to climate change, it should probably be a rancher.

            The mere consideration of such a statement could be supported by the lingering high pressure that has been camped over the much of the southern border all summer. It is almost uncanny how storms roll right up to the border only to veer eastward and head off over the horizon.

            Similarly, there have been only two or three classic monsoonal renditions since the early days of May when the weather prognosticators promised that El Nino would spread its charm and bless us with abundant rain.

            Those characters seem to be silent these days.

            So, we are watching very closely this weekend’s conditional promise of rain. It’s suffice to say being positive is no longer our forte. In fact, we have become downright cynical about too many things.

            Somebody or some thing needs to change that.

            High Pressure Edge

            The question this morning is, “Did anybody out there watch the seven hours of climate debate the other night on CNN?” That was when the 10 tribal council clones, all seeking the highest office in this land, attempted to draw ever bleaker characterizations of doom and gloom that will befall us over the next 12 years.

            Holy cow!

            You would think it would be important to offer encouragement for the future. This crew certainly doesn’t show that. In fact, they seem to be inclined to dig ever deeper pits to roast the evil doers wherever they are found. Doers, by the way, that are expected to pay the bills for all the changes in store before the great curtain falls.

            Take ‘em in or out of order, the byline is the same.

            The gay mayor claims fighting climate change is even more challenging than fighting World War II. Of course, he wouldn’t admit for a moment that predicament is bracketed by the inability to form any kind of constructive coalition (he doesn’t yet understand that doers are needed in any natural alliance). He is now on record stating that not believing in the condition is sinful. That extends to people who use straws and eat hamburgers.

            Lastly, he had an epiphany whereby he has concluded that life doesn’t begin until the newborn baby takes its first breath.

            The hod carrier is going to leverage American treasury into solving all world problems. He’s not going to leave his mark just on Vermont. He’s going big time into the spending game. His basic theme is morphing into the need to abort babies in poor countries everywhere. It seems, somehow, babies are the actual causal agents of climate change.

            His take on the subject of infanticide is to get ‘em early and get ‘em where they have the least likely opportunity to breath.

            The virtual Indian is after power plants (especially nuclear), light bulbs, plastic straws, and cheeseburgers. She seems to have little inclination to acknowledge that plastic straws and condoms are cut from the same basic natural resources, though. Somebody must have suggested to her that “straws” are multipliers in the artificial insemination game hence her dramatic elevation of hatred applies to all artificially enhanced straws.

            Any force of expanding all traces of babies is equally disgusting to her so her natural inclination is to support the rights to kill them.

            Joe wants to limit magazines to one round.

            Willie’s object of affection hates plastic straws, too. She hates them similarly to fracking. Perhaps the application of water to facilitate the energy magic of the century reminds her too much of those plastic inventions hence her vitriol against them.

            Without saying, to her, women’s right trump live babies every day of the week.

            Beto survived his I10 car crash with a bit of border politics so it is only fitting that his third unveiling comes out smoking and voiding Joe’s one round magazines. He’s going to buy back every assault rifle in these United States and any suggestion that it will cause hostility would only be the fault of the news reader who breaks from the monitor to wonder aloud about the actual consequences. The false Mexican is also going to rescind every environmental reg rollback that the president ever signed.

            And, of course, the woman’s preference to killing unwanted babies is not just natural but her inherent right along with funds generated from the minions to get it done.

            It is abundantly clear the American Castro brother has never read nor likely heard of Aldo Leopold. It was none other than Aldo who suggested 10% of the landscape be dedicated to a natural state of being or in the modern vernacular, unadulterated pristine environment. Castro will do that five times better by clearing the tax paying rednecks off a full 50% of the landscape in order to save the world.

            With that kind of imagination, he’s going to have to tax meat more than the Germanic 19% if he insists federally funded abortions are automatic and obligatory.

            Even with ol’ One Shot in their midst, this crew has stated one time too many they are what they are … infanticide loyalists.

            The Missing Tax

            Where, though, among these various and self-nominated cast of characters is a hint of optimism, or, more importantly, a visionary who can lead us to some better point of reference?

            While they are intending to raise taxes, eliminate energy independence, and save the world all the while teaching us to lap water out of a bowl, a basic premise remains silent. Who should pay for the opportunity cost of killing future generations of revenue generators in the form of aborted babies?

            As of yesterday, 61,579,437 estimated babies were aborted since Roe V. Wade. Can we only imagine what that represents in the loss of human capital much less the right of those defenseless souls to live?

            Stephen L. Wilmeth is a rancher from southern New Mexico. “Drought will remind you the immeasurable miracle that life is.”