Emasculating a Nation; Feminism and the Demise of a Nation It Demands.

Sometimes, with growing frequency anymore, I sit watching in absolute amazement at a society and nation seemingly sleep-walking. “Stunned and stolid, a brother to the ox,” to quote Edwin Markham. That’s at best; at worst, what’s going on lately is more symptomatic of someone comatose. Or brain dead.
Tonight, May 22, 2006, nearly a year after Hurricane Katrina dismembered a New Orleans prostrated by its own corruption, indifference, and shear indolence, the government has begun evicting people from the trailer-houses it finally provided them for shelter – that after literally months. More, when the nation and its government compounded the Big Easy’s own neglect and incompetence with more of the same, plus outright indifference and criminal exploitation in the aftermath, a federal commission says that eighty percent of what happened “could have been prevented(!). NO kidding?
I am amazed at several things this betrays, none moreso than the fact that no one relates this report and the debacle it describes with things like the U.S-Mexico Border and illegal immigration from Mexico. The parallels are near endless. Once more, as in both cases, the guy everyone refers to as “John Q,” “the every-day, ordinary citizen” is considered by no one; except as a sheep to be sheared for whatever equivalent to wool “those poor migrants” or the like require, that is.
John Q. is being stolen blind, that while the people charged with representing his interests strive to curry the favor of everyone who stands to gain both by exploiting him – immigrant and immigrant exploiter alike. Just at the people entrusted with maintenance of the levees and dikes separating the public in New Orleans had better – more self-interested, i.e., - things to do, the people charged with maintenance of the border and its purposes have had better things to do.
And now, with the hurricane and storm surge of people from Mexico having struck the border levees and overwhelmed them, the nation’s working people are getting the same short shrift from the government as the people of New Orleans got after the storm from that same government.
I’d say “sad,” but it’s quite a bit worse than just sad. It’s incompetence – criminal incompetence. But what else is new?!
The most criminal incompetence here, though, is not in the nation’s capitol or state houses. Uh-uh. The most criminally incompetent behavior is that of the victims themselves. The public. We deserve what we’re getting. We asked for it, remember? Elections?
Tonight, when still another of the experts in levee and dike construction appears on a CNN Program to promote his book on the subject, the public waits patiently – or uses the remote to go elsewhere in order to watch something more lurid – for the latest news on the latest disappeared women; or, of course, the latest rape case. The latest toll of dead in Iraq has also been long relegated to the flow strip and the lady’s underwear page of the paper. Who cares? What are they going to say about Britney dropping her baby?
Hasn’t a horse fallen in a pit somewhere? A whale beached himself?
Watching the guy discuss the fact known by damned near everybody now, the fact that the government and people of New Orleans knew perfectly well what would happen when a hurricane hit there, I asked wife Rita if that mightn’t be considered a parallel to the way I started decades ago trying to warn “Americans” about the crime wave flood affecting government at all levels. Actually, I warned repeatedly (now that I’ve had a chance to consider, twenty or so) about things like the World Trade Center, too. But . . .
That’s still another parallel, isn’t it? I’ve already written here about “the dog that didn’t bark,” so I won’t bore you again with more discussion except to ask, how blind can you be? You don’t see parallels between the almost impossibly unbelievable incompetence it would take to permit something like that and what’s happening on the border, and in New Orleans?
You really don’t wonder that “the dog didn’t bark” before the Mexican flood and Katrina? Government didn’t know? You don’t see the United States and its security as a nation in September 11, New Orleans, and the border? Hey, spare me all the half-baked humanistic crap, too. I’m a seventy-year old man who has been damned near everywhere, done damned near everything, and seen just about everything there is to see. I speak four languages, once spoke seven, and can still read and write that many passably. I have by more than double more semester hours collage credit than most Ph.D.s, have won two national sports championships (judo), several shooting titles – both pistol, rifle, and archery (which I teach, by the way), dived in the seas, climbed mountains, gone (still do) damned near everywhere on a bicycle, taught several levels of elementary and high school, instructed in colleges, taught SWAT and SEAL teams (it was my idea, and I can prove that, you know) close quarters combat, and written six books. You can’t fool me. You can’t even insult me; you’re not that bright.
And you can save the sophomoric indignation, too. Time was when an elder like myself didn’t have to indulge people with far less experience or credentials, because his juniors had been reared to know their stature and place in the scheme of things. No more, but your opinion doesn’t mean shit to any professional, scientist, or rational person unless you have some experience or credentials where the subject matter is concerned – “standing,” as it was once known.
A short “war story” might be illustrative here: Asked to coach the national judo team in 1987, I was on the mat one night when a young man averred that he “always” – this is a kid nineteen years old - did a particular waza “this way,” and it was better. “You know, youngster,” I said, “the mere fact that you don’t listen carefully to a teacher with fifty years, and more than a thousand fights, experience ought to tell you why you’re not doing in contest as well as you should. It’s like what happened in the gym last night: with me handling poundages thirty percent greater than anything you can handle, and me thirty pounds lighter, old enough to be your grandfather, you still knew better about how to train with weights. Son, you’re gonna have to acquire some smarts before you’ll be able to learn anything difficult like fighting.”
If you, dear reader, don’t have brains enough to save your half-baked opinions for yourself, and shut up to listen, don’t read any further. Why should you? – you already know. Besides, long experience in these matters, including considerable research just for that purpose, reveals that little of what you say – probably – would be knowledgeable, logical, scientific, or even written in English (or Spanish, or whatever) of passable merit. All heat and no light is not only boring, it’s a waste of time; and when a writer’s first paragraph is replete with sentence fragments or run-ons, misspelled words, solecisms, Malaprops, and the like, I don’t read any further, anyway.
Why should any rational person have a debate presumably tending toward something productive with an individual who can’t muster up the self-control and discipline sufficient to keep a civil tongue in his head, or shut up while someone else is talking?
That said, let’s go back to my subject. The most criminally incompetent thing that has happened of late in the Land of the Free is not due the government’s power-maddened, pratfalling. Uh-uh. It’s you, the public. Talk about feckless! One guy, writing on a blogsite elsewhere on the Internet about the latest use of the U.S. Constitution for Charmin, suggests that we all turn on our headlights in protest! Headlights! Man, how “metrosexual” can you GET?
Another, a woman, regales the readers with reams of statistics concerning her pet cause, that of the Palestinians plight (yeah, I’ve pointed out to the lady that Palestinian promises to massacre the Israelis at the first opportunity probably has a lot to do with the nasty way they respond, but zealots are not known for their willingness to listen to even the obvious).
And so on. One form of devastation wreaked by the wind and storm surge of the hurricane known as feminism manifests itself in the fact that we now talk every “issue” – another FemSpeak coinage of the “woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle” movement – to death. Actually, the thing never dies; fact, what it does do is use the freedom and surcease from normal male “DO something-ness” provided by the endlessly dithering discussion to recover strength, and come back stronger next time.
When the government wolves run off the cattle, kill the sheep, and eat the kids, the parents MARCH – have a gaudeamus and party, that is; oh, yeah, and turn on their headlights, wear T-shirts, and apply those ubiquitous bumper stickers. Man, THAT’s gotta put the government wolves in mortal terror, doesn’t it?
Feminism is everywhere, these days. In the high school here the other day, a kid BIT a teacher. Now the school board and teachers are dithering about what should be done. A while ago, another teacher was forced to physically restrain a student – tear him off someone he was assaulting – only to be sued by the parents of the attacker. Fortunately, the teacher had his tape recorder on; well “fortunately” after a while. When, you see, the parents of the miscreant learned that their kids’ lies were all defeated by the faithful and incontrovertible recording of the whole incident, they sued the teacher for “invasion of privacy” – recording the assault.
My recommendation to the two teachers was that they call the police and press charges of assault and battery. Let the court handle the little brats, AND their irresponsible parents.
A few years ago, teaching in Del Rio and substituting in a classroom that had literally been torn to pieces by students (holes kicked in walls, battered and broken desks, and the like), a kid I had sent to the front of the room to be singled out for discipline tried to punch me as I approached him. I’ve played competitive judo for fifty years, such that my hands caught the attempted sucker punch before my brain had time to engage. I caught an armlock come-along restraining hold, took the kid to the door, then outside. There, I released him and ordered him to the principal’s office.
In minutes, I – not the juvenile felon - was on the carpet before the same principal. They didn’t approve of physical force, the wimp principal said. He also implied that I should have accepted the punch. “How much harm could it have done?” The boy would “likely” have gotten his head, once he’d realized what he’d done!
I was already at the time under suspicion of having too much testosterone, that the result of my having refused a few days before to let students go back into the school gymnasium after what I later learned was a twice-a-week prank, that of tripping a fire alarm. We stood in the hot sun until the fire department arrived. My insistence that to let kids go back into the building before the fire department had checked it would be criminal and legally liable prospectively drew angry protests from several kids - and, of course, their delinquent parents. I was making a big fuss over nothing. I was a racist - a clue that certain of the the parents were not Caucasian, you may notice.
Like the two teachers who had preceded me in trying to teach that particular class, I quit after the punching incident.
Of course, I’ve already discussed here the devastating effect feminist and metrosexual male attitudes are having on boys in our schools. The Newsweek article in that regard, together with the mindless bimbo-babble of women writing to the magazine, are instructive and worth while find and read – if you haven’t already.
Neither is the educational system the only societal venue where the limp-wristed philosophies and dogmas of feminism have proved cancerous. Now we have women soldiers – in combat. We have the Jessica Lynches, too; a tiny little women – girl, really – disgracing through no fault of her own both the nation and its uniform by her total ineffectiveness in combat. Worse in the line of disgrace was a hen-pecked nation who speciously tried to make a hero of the young woman after the incident. Some things cosmetics can't cover, though; still, to this day, desirous in the most disgusting manner possible of concealing the effect of Jessica’s incompetence on her fellow soldiers, details of the action are hidden from the publid by the pussy-whipped media and congress.
In one of his Rogue Warrior series, Richard Marcinko, originator of counter-terrorist SEAL Team Six, relates how a female think-tank adviser addressing Pentagon planners recommended “the creation” – more FemSpeak, you’ll notice – of a “kinder, gentler, more sensitive army,” one less subject to male aggressiveness and machismo. Unable to remember verbatim, I’ve paraphrased that last, but not by much. The wonder, Marcinko observed, wasn’t that the woman mouthed such unadulterated nonsense (NOT the term he used, of course), but that Pentagon brass sat there and took it without protest. When the first President Bush commissioned a study on women in the military, the entire two hundred fifty-two page book did not use the word “kill” a single time. We now “engage” the enemy.” I can only guess what’s next, and it’s not suitable for mixed company, anyway.
It goes on an on. During the 2000 Summer Olympics in Sydney, columnist Maureen Dowd not only put everything here in the right perspective, but summarized what has happened succinctly. “Shed a tear for masculinity,” she wrote. “I feel undeniable pride that women have taken control of the two great male preserves of American - politics and sports - and ruined them. We have draped the gray steel of our warrior rituals in yards of chintz. We have made them so mawkish, so hideously fluffy, so sentimental, kissy and fraught with personal travail, that these gladiatorial contests play more like those old Bette Davis/Joan Crawford weepies. This used to be guy season. Aggressive, muscular warfare focused on winning and losing, stats, handicapping, training, strategy. Now it’s girl season, soaking in sentiment, soap opera romantic walks along the lake, deep kisses on stage and guys making Cher-like wardrobe changes. “
The columnist went on to discuss how the presidential candidate then made huge gains in the presidential polls by kissing his wife on the state at the Democratic Convention, then went on to quote a professor of anthropology somewhere. “’…through history,'" she quoted, "'the essential theme of all competition has been this: one male demonstrates his virility, his masculinity at the expense of a male opponent.’” “Now to win men have to feminize themselves. Game over.”
Dowd, of course, was right. If I hear another television commentator-“personality” asks, for instance, and Olympic Games medal winner, “How did it FEEL? I’ll smash the god-damned television set.
You not only get the point, it’s all around you. Our female national security adviser, for ‘oh-my-god!’ instance, didn’t find it remarkable that the Federal Aviation Administration didn’t consider a jack-knife a weapon, for instance. A principal reason we can’t stop the horde of Mexicans pouring across our southern border is what it might do to the FAMILIES of the illegal migrants. Take all the bleeding hearts out of the debate, endless and feminine as it is, and the matter – oops; damned near missed my chance to say “issue” – would be resolved over night.
The fact is – referring again to my observation that the truth of our situation and what’s causing it is all around us – is that we have become such a fat-head as a nation as to beggar description. Tonight Lou Dobbs is marveling at the way the government and all the people who own it are “hammering the American People.” What do you expect of people so stupid that they buy lock, stock and barrel stories like the revelation that someone has stolen thousands and thousands of Veteran’s Administration records, this at a time when the Bush League’s wire-tapping and Fourth Amendment violations generally have started the public wondering about the obvious, why do such a thing, when obviously nobody in his right mind would give anything away by talking about it on the telephone?
People, the government – that’s people, you know – does these things in order to steal. Why you hire people addicted to money to stand guard on your money still leaves me shaking my head in consternated wonder. If the computers or phones of a million people are compromised, and a dollar is stolen from the credit card or bank account of each, not one will notice. And the thief has a million dollars. And a theft like the VA – how many of those have we heard about in the last few years – covers it. Besides, it’s very convenient otherwise – “the dog ate my homework: excuse.” Everything we’re not doing that we’re supposed to do is because somebody stole all the records.
Oh, one more thing (since we’re talking about diversions with which to distract a stupid nation) before I go: I think we should make the national language Latin. Or Ancient Greek. Japanese, maybe. That way, nobody would know what the hell is going on with government just like always; the Supreme Court would hand down its already incomprehensible rulings in a language nobody understands, just like always; all the myriad of rules, regulations, ordinances, statutes, laws, and enactments – road signs and fifty more – would be incomprehensible, so nobody would pay any attention – just like always. Making the official language of government a foreign tongue would, in other words, make everybody actually equal under the law. Yeah – let’s make the official language Latin.
All the fat heads would have an incontrovertible excuse for being fat heads. "The dog ate my homework" - remember?