Happy Birthday
America
Tribal Cabal
By Stephen L. Wilmeth
Happy Birthday America … whatever’s left of you.
Toby Keith
Happy
Birthday
Rain came
this week.
There is
nothing sweeter than the smell of a New Mexico rain. It just fills your senses
with an awe that transcends time and space. There was no potato wagon, though,
rolling across the ridges and valleys that would have added drama.
It was a
quiet and soft affair.
Eleganté
was Pepe’s suggestion. I caught up with him coming off the slope from the Martin
drinker and storage. We stood there together in the drizzle and looked out
across the Apache Flats to the south.
Que
Bueno gracias a Dios.
Indeed,
and it could have not come at a more critical juncture for us. There are still
so many that have no relief. Our prayers go out directly to them, but this week
some relief to our lands, to our animals, and to our families was received.
It puts one
in a bit of a festive mood, and … the 4th of July is always a best
time to be festive to celebrate our country’s heritage.
Tribal
Cabal
The words
describing the chaos and drama that harasses our senses 24 hours a day have
become drivel. Our state is doing nothing to change that.
We are
incredulous to the events and debates that are ongoing around us. There is nothing
within our state leadership that suggests contributions to our country and its healthy
future. We are not part of border state debates or responses. That is left to
Texas, to Arizona, and, increasingly, to Florida and its boundary water exposure.
New Mexico and California have shed any semblance of red, white, and blue.
Their chosen governmental backdrop has become red, and that has no relationship
to conservatism.
It is time
to say what we have only mentioned in private conversations. These leadership
juntas of societal reengineers and profiteers are out and out communists
masking under the guises of environmental showmanship, sexual revolutionists,
and side show reparationists.
Their kind
have probably populated this world from the beginning of time. They have
appeared variously and continuously when shielded conditions are favorable for
their unmasking. From the writings of Damien Lewis an esoteric glimpse of the
process is further revealed.
Lewis’ central
antagonist is Hitler.
He contends
that, when the paranoid leader of the German nation answered the political
curtain call in the ‘30s, his actions were not merely petulant and vindictive,
but clearly thought out and based upon reasoning. From his position at the
center of some twisted universe, he revealed a central and continuing theme.
Whoever was
not on his side was a criminal and or an imbecile.
To
accomplish the destruction of the opposition, a cast of advisors and officers
were (and are necessary). In Hitler’s case, these characters were legion, but
three stand out to carry the golden torch. They all played a military role, but
their real contributions were more specific to the diabolical puzzle. Each
filled a specific role in the steps of societal reengineering.
The lead environmentalist was
Hermann Gȍring. He was the Vice Fȕhrer whose day job was commanding the killing
of enemies by way of the Luftwaffe, the German air force. His dreams of a
German Valhalla were continuously influenced by the purple haze he induced. He
was a dope addict.
Heinrich Himmler was the main
architect of the holocaust with the intention of ridding the world for Germany
and the Fuhrer of criminal opposition and imbecilic, nontribal masses. He never
experienced actual warfare because he was far too important playing god in the
daily policing decisions of which herd of innocents to kill. In this capacity,
he was Germany’s head mystic.
The head scribe and director of the
press was Joseph Goebbels. It was his job for presenting a favorable and
spotless image of the regime. He couldn’t dance (clubfooted), but he could
write. He and his wife showed a distinctive penchant for child endangerment.
They killed their six children in the last days of the war.
These characters ultimately met
their match, and their plan was revealed, but, first, a closer look at their
mode of operation is in order. It is prefaced by a truism. The middle class was
always their underlying adversary. Those masses had to be contained.
As the killing raged, a more
specific plan of action was constantly carried out by the tribal masters.
Theirs was a conspiracy to recognize and produce a disposal order for each
emerging adversary. That person, persons, or societal covenant would be eliminated.
In order not to bring the middle
class into revolt, the intentions were cloaked with rationale or propagandized
legal gibberish. Studies out the woodwork were a useful tool. Such suggested
logic or science was elevated into the mainstream by reports, charted press
reassurances, and direct demonization.
Above all, the true facts had to be
withheld from the middle class, the producers, and the independent thinkers.
They were the real enemy of this contrived, amoral state of evil disruption.
America
Without the helping hand of God
(America) … Your days are numbered, my old Friend.
Toby
Keith, cont.
The parallels of then and now are
striking. Our America is catching fire in front of our eyes. There is no
semblance of a house united much less an undivided country. To our south, an
invasion is fully in process. The decision by this administration is simply to
deny the issue. As necessary, the proxy for Goebbels is crafting the daily message
to the citizenry that is essential in maintaining the denial.
Gȍring’s successors, the
environmentalists, are hurling protective land designations at the public akin
to burning arrows in the afterglow of sundown. Every productive land steward is
being vilified and condemned for his or her very existence.
Himmler’s appointee is employing
reverse psychology in the street wars. Cops are bad and thieves and thugs are
being unfairly treated. His mystical vision is as confounding as it is successful.
The head of state is reliably
disruptive and divisive. He controls the all-powerful progressive and suppressive
signature line.
Doggonit all!
I am going to go stand in the rain and
soak up the experience. This land is what matters. It is the only thing that
makes sense. Its promise is eternal.
It is home, and celebrating it is …
worth defending.
Stephen
L. Wilmeth is a rancher from southern New Mexico. “That potato wagon? At the
rumble of thunder, my grandfather used to remind me it was just that ol’ potato
wagon (dumping its load) … Happy Birthday America.”
Toby Keith
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