I rant. I brag. I praise. I say things just to tick people off. So be prepared to be offended and/or outraged from time to time, but know also that there's only an 80% chance that I meant to be offensive and/or outrageous.
Thursday, June 05, 2008
The Dangers of Energy Drinks
However, it also suggests that the "energy surge" (due mostly to high caffeine content) of such beverages leads to "Toxic-jock behavior." The article defines this phenomenon as an increased willingness to engage in risky and often aggressive behavior.
To this point, I can offer some personal support.
I played high school football for four years (in four seasons, we only lost two games--yeah, I'm bragging). As a senior, during our first game (which we lost, even though we were ranked 11th in the US by USA Today--bragging, again) I noticed that some of my fellow players were taking pills before the game and during half-time.
My suspicion was that they were taking steroids. This suspicion was fueled by countless after-school specials and frequent anecdotes in various health classes.
The next week, I decided to inquire--for these were my friends, and I was concerned. That's when Joe--one of our inside linebackers--showed me the bottle. The pills were caffeine, in a very high dosage that I cannot recall accurately. Let's just call it about 250 milligrams--or two cans of "Red Bull" (10 grams is considered lethal).
I was relieved. It was just caffeine! Hell, that's legal, so I asked for one.
"No, dude," Joe said. "We take two." (that's 500 milligrams)
"OK, then give me two," I replied--and I took them.
Now here's what I have to say about this "Toxic-jock behavior." I played like an animal. I drove my guy into the ground on almost every play, and I made open-field hits like a madman. Seriously, it was one of my best games ever. If you don't believe me, I'll show you the tape. After one particular hit--it was a blindside strike at least 20 yards away from the play (which was ending)--one of the refs warned me to "cool it down, number 50!"
The thing is, I wasn't ready to cool it down. I was charged. All I wanted to do was to hit one of the other team so hard that he lost his senses.
Incidentally, I sustained a bad ankle injury the next week during practice. I was out for the next four games, and when I returned, I was not as mobile. I did not take the caffeine pills for the rest of the season, but I still felt like killing the other team.
This might put a wrench in this "toxic-jock behavior" theory. When in competition, my MO is always to destroy--not just beat--my opponent. I am ruthless and unforgiving. What I tell my football players now (as their coach) is to make the other team's mothers ashamed of them. The truth is, it wasn't the caffeine pills that made me want to crush the idiot who had the brainless guts to line up against me. It's just how I play the game.
Basically passive people (e.g. John Tesh) are not the typical consumers of energy drinks. If the typical consumer is naturally aggressive, then it's really easy to connect the drinks to the aggression--but it's inaccurate.
Feed a Cheerios to a serial killer, and he'll kill people. That doesn't mean that Cheerios lead to homicide (though I enjoyed pairing cereal consumption with serial murder). Similarly, BAR and "Howling Mad" Murdock aren't geeks because they watch Battlestar Galactica. They watch Battlestar Galactica because they are geeks already.
Basically, energy drinks may be slightly or even very unhealthy. However, those who argue against them are of the same ilk renowned for their willingness to be dishonest--either distorting or flat out fabricating their supporting data. Think of all the crap that gets said of Catholics by various (and usually small and isolated) protestant groups. Most of it is just plain lies. Hell, one a-hole who can burn in the Hell that he so fears went as far to warn my great-grandmother that since my wife and I were being married by a Catholic priest, that the priest would have to have sex with her to consecrate the marriage! This DB actually said this, even though my wife looks nothing like an altar boy. My great-grandmother actually called me in tears because she was sure that the guy was wrong, but she just needed me to tell her so (if I could find that guy right now, I'd drink ten cans of "Red Bull" and go all Toxic-jock on him).
The irony is that such unethical tactics lead most young people--who are often foolish but not brain dead--to disbelieve everything that is said against drugs. I'm not talking about just energy drinks here, I'm talking about seriously bad stuff. However, since so much of what the anti-drug forces say is utter bullsquat, the actually true things are left in doubt as well.
Let's look at the numbers. A can of "Red Bull" has 116 milligrams of caffeine. The lethal dosage of caffeine is 10 grams. That means that you need to drink 86 cans of "Red Bull" in rapid succession in order to die.
How many cans of beer must you drink in rapid succession in order to die--20?--30?
These numbers just don't make sense. Energy drinks are not as dangerous as the critics are saying.
According to the article, an unspecified (but implied low) amount of energy drinks can lead to "Toxic-jock behavior."
How many cans of beer must you drink in rapid succession before you start acting like an idiot--6? (if you're "Howling Mad" Murdock)--12 ?(if you're me)-- .25? (if you're BAR)?
I know that I'm comparing different drugs here, and that my analysis/critique is not very scientific. However, I think that you can agree that there seems to be some fudging with numbers, likelihoods, and such.
I never liked the puritans of Salem. They see witches everywhere, in every thing--even energy drinks.
Did you ever stop to think that the "Red Bull" looks an awful lot like Satan?
Holy crap, it's time to get the scales out. If the CEO of the company that makes "Red Bull" weighs the same as a duck, then . . .
Sunday, June 01, 2008
The Origins of American Democracy
I wrote this, but it is not new. It's actually about four years old.
Sic Semper Republicus:
The Emergence of Democracy in the Early 19th Century
Before proceeding, an elementary analysis of the two contrasting words—republic and democracy, and their adjective forms: republican and democratic—is necessary. “Republic” is formed from two Latin words: Res (works) and Publica (the public). Roughly translated into a working definition, then, a republic is a socio-political system—in many ways even a culture—in which all men are dedicated to working not merely for themselves but for the public at large. “Democracy,” on the other hand, is rooted in two ancient Greek words: Demos (the people) and Kratia (to be strong; to rule).[1]
A republic’s citizens participate in politics under the principle of disinterest: they act for the well being of society (this idea is the root of the Constitution’s references to “the common good” and “the general welfare”). Conversely, a democratic government operates upon the will of the majority. While a republic might utilize elections and thus adhere to the will of the majority, the majority in a republic do not vote with their wallets. A republican votes with an eye toward the greater good.
Democracies are slightly different. Since people (demos) have the power (kratos), the will of the most people prevails. It is, in essence, a selfish utilitarianism. Thus, a republic seeks “to provide for the common good”—that which will benefit all in general—while a democracy seeks to accomplish simply what is good for most—the rest, more or less, be damned. While the difference between these two terms may seem superficial to some, it is this difference that accounts for the founding fathers’ love of a republic and fear of a democracy.
* * * *
Republicanism's Political Ramifications
The founding fathers’ problem with democracy was a matter of trust. Democracy in action means universal suffrage. The majority governs through election. The problem is that a true democracy offers no discrimination against men of little virtue: the ballot of a good man is equal to the ballot of a bad man. How, many wondered, can liberty be preserved when the average person—who tends to be relatively uneducated, intemperate, and selfish—has the ability to influence the nature of the state? “The mass of men are neither wise nor good,” noted John Jay;[2] and while John Witherspoon professed idealistically that “[T]he multitude collectively always are true in intention to the interest of the public, because it is their own. They are the public,” secretly (and often not-so-secretly) early American intellectuals feared that “[P]oor, shiftless spendthrifty men and inconsiderate youngsters that have no property . . . [will] Choose a Representative to go to court, to vote away the Money of those that have Estates.”[3] Simply put, the wise and virtuous have never composed the majority in any society. Therefore, as James Iredell concluded, “[T]here must be some restriction as to the right of voting; otherwise the lowest and most ignorant of mankind must associate in this important business with those who it is to be presumed, from their property and other circumstances, are free from influence, and have some knowledge of the great consequences of their trust.”[4] As a result of this mindset, every state enacted in its initial constitution some sort of qualification for voting. Men without property are under the influence of those who possess property, and those without property, if empowered politically, might follow their selfish interest to secure the property of others rather than follow the common interest of the common good.
Still, the founders understood that the people needed to be represented. A lack of representation had contributed greatly to the angst that brought forth the revolt against the British, and even the most aristocratic (used here to denote undemocratic) minded, such as Alexander Hamilton, conceded that “no laws have any validity or binding force without the consent and approbation of the people.”[5] However, for all their talk of popular sovereignty and consent of the governed, what the authors of the Constitution really wanted was a government free of the whims and baseness of the populace. A virtuous government must never ignore the people, lest it become a tyranny; but it must be deposited into the hands of virtuous men who, by virtue of their wealth and education, will be politically disinterested. A republic, thus, is virtuous; and a democracy, therefore, is vulgar.
The republican idea that a government must be run by the disinterested and virtuous—men who would, presumably, possess education and politesse sufficient to the task of working for the common good rather than merely securing the peculiar ambitions of individual, interested constituencies—however, ran headlong into another basic republican tenet: that all men are created equal. The suggestion that only a privileged few are capable of managing the affairs of the state rings of aristocracy, and if any word possessed a more negative connotation in the minds of republicans than democracy, it was aristocracy.[6] First of all, due to its geographical isolation from Europe, no titled aristocracy developed in the colonies. As Alexis de Tocqueville reflected, “the germs of aristocracy were never planted [in America],” and “the only influence which obtained there was that of intellect; the people became accustomed to revere certain names as representatives of knowledge and virtue.”[7] Second of all, as one intellectual historian has noted, “Republicanism’s emphasis upon equality encouraged ordinary, obscure men to challenge all manifestations of authority and eminence within society.”[8] The image of a gentleman looking down his nose was every bit as irksome as the image of a nobility led by a scepter-wielding monarch.
What made it even worse was that gentlemen not only held themselves above what they deemed the rabble, these same gentlemen presumed the right—in most cases simply because of their wealth—to govern the people. America’s elite were enlightened, so they despised the concept of a titled, hereditary aristocracy; however, because they were enlightened, they envisioned a natural aristocracy, a peerless group consisting of the wise and virtuous—men who, through talent and manifestations of character, had demonstrated themselves as worthy defenders of republican ideals. While these men might come from any level of society, identifying them was very difficult. Therefore, many of America’s elite compromised. Although the ownership of property was not a definite sign of education and virtue, it was deemed that the owners of property were far more likely to be educated, thus virtuous, and therefore able to govern from a disinterested perspective.
Just as many of the founders had wondered how a republic could be safe in the hands of the majority, many began to wonder how a republic could be preserved by a minority. If a republic is to be run by a privileged few, then what is a republic other than an aristocracy? If it is feared that the self-interested majority will oppress the minority, then is it not also valid to fear that a minority—even if initially composed of virtuous and disinterested men—might also oppress the majority? Besides, although America’s elite presumptuously called themselves a natural aristocracy, the only practical qualification of this status was the ownership of property—not a clear sign of education or virtue. Indeed, wealth breeds power, and power breeds corruption. In addition, America’s would-be-aristocrats were contending was that the interests of the farmer were those of the planter; that the interests of the shopkeeper were congruent to those of the wealthy merchant; and that, as men of substantially more prestige, planters and wealthy merchants could be better trusted with the reigns of power. Thus, the franchise can consist of a limited sector of society while still being virtually representative of the whole. That had been the very problem with the British. Parliament had claimed to represent virtually, though not actually, the colonies through a shared interest in the well-being of the empire, but in fact the American colonies were not represented in parliament and were thus bullied and exploited for the good of the motherland.[9] Similarly, a small-time farmer in Halifax County, Virginia, could rightfully ask how the master of a neighboring plantation was any more disinterested than was Lord North and his parliamentarian cronies. It would be a rhetorical question. Disinterest is a weasel-word. Of course planters were every bit as interested as were small-time farmers; they had shown their interest for decades (consider the issues land acquisition behind Bacon’s Rebellion); and they would continue to demonstrate their interest long into the 19th Century (expansion of territory, opposition to protective tariffs, and the expansion of slavery and the protection of it). The many common interests of the elite and the middling folk did not cancel out the many deviant interests. Eventually, most had to concede that all men are interested; so the meaning of the word disinterested has henceforth been nearly lost.
American’s founders were caught in something of a paradox. They loathed a non-representative government but, at the same time, feared a truly representative one. As Benjamin Church observed, “the liberty of the people is exactly proportioned to the share the body of the people have in the legislature; and the check placed in the constitution, on the executive power.”[10] John Adams too grasped the problem: “The principal difficulty lies, and the greatest care should be employed, in constituting this representative assembly. It should be in miniature an exact portrait of the people at large. It should think, feel, reason, and act like them.”[11] In the colonial era, how parliament was to think, feel, reason, and act like—indeed even to understand—the colonists was a nonsense question. Simply put, they couldn’t. Likewise, once Americans wrested power from the crown, the issue became how the wealthy and distinguished in America should be expected to relate in experience, sentiment, and common interest to the middling and common folk. The answer was, again rhetorical. If no minority could virtually represent the majority of average Americans, then average Americans would have to represent themselves. Although it would take a few decades to realize this, by the 1830’s the concept of virtual representation was as dead as Julius Caesar.
It has thus been demonstrated that Americans who considered themselves republican were, in actuality, aristocratic. As the Virginian John Randolph stated, “When I mention the public, I mean to include only the rational part of it. The ignorant vulgar are as unfit to judge of the modes, as they are unable to manage the reins of government.”[12] Since republicanism is not only social philosophy, elements of it can exist in stratified society; however the average American did not risk life, limb, and property merely to supplant one hierarchy with another. As time progressed, awe of and deference to America’s elite waned. The most basic element of republicanism—that all men are equal—pushed itself to the forefront.
Virtuous or not, the common man must have his own, tangible voice in political affairs; for all men, common or uncommon, are equal. In the end, it really becomes rather simple: privilege is the hallmark of aristocracy; republicanism disdains aristocracy; therefore, republicanism disdains privilege. If voting is not deemed as a right but rather a privilege granted to a select few, then the people live in an aristocracy, not a republic; for if voting is a right, but only certain men possess that right, then all men are obviously not equal. Only if voting is deemed as a right that all men possess can a country be a republic. However, the advent of universal suffrage means also the advent of democracy. Thus the root cause of the political republic’s decline and democracy’s assent lies within the nature of republicanism itself.
* * * *
Republicanism's Social Ramifications
Thus far the scope of this analysis has considered republicanism and democracy as little more than political phenomena; when, in fact, both have decidedly social and economic facets as well. Some inklings of the social side to both have been mentioned, but a more detailed analysis is necessary to explain how America’s republican society became a democratic society.
Republican rhetoric exposes a heavy streak of utopianism. It holds that men must regard the interests of the community at large over their own. This requires that a man possess the wisdom to know the difference between his personal wants and the needs of the community. He then needs to exercise an almost superhuman temperance and courage to sacrifice to his community what would be good for himself. Even staunch republicans understood that this was such a terrible burden on a man that few men could be expected to do so. That explains their reluctance to open the franchise and their desire to replace the Articles of Confederation with the Constitution. On top of this, a good republican shirks gaudiness. Fancy dress and other such functionless luxuries serve only to place a man above others. Equality is republicanism's driving force. In a republican society, men are not to distinguish themselves as superior to others. The only valid form of prestige in a republic is good, virtuous, disinterested character.
Such rhetoric served well when Americans were at odds with the British—a country governed by a king and parliament, neither of which were disinterested; and lorded over by a titled, hereditary nobility with undeserved power and riches. Once the British were out of the way, however, ordinary Americans were able to look about them at their wealthier neighbors, most of whom were espousing rhetoric and acting in manners to suggest that they were of a better sort.
The problem, here, is with the definition of equal. There are two basic forms of equality. Politically, equality can mean that all men possess equal rights. Social equality can mean that no man is better than his peers by birthright, property, or other forms of artificial status. The original conflict, in America, was over political equality, and took to issue the restricted franchise. However, as full political equality was established in the states via universal, white, manhood suffrage, the drive for social equality became more urgent (though never to the perverse extent attempted in France during its “republican” revolution).
The clearest example of the new importance of social equality is in political campaigns, though not to be confused with politics and political equality. The first American presidents were elected and respected for their roles in the Revolution and the founding of the country: Washington, the American Cincinnatus; Adams, a co-author of the Declaration of Independence and eloquent political thinker; Jefferson, the main author of the Declaration of Independence and most republican of all presidents; Madison, the “Father of the Constitution”; and the Virginian gentleman and arch-republican James Monroe was the last of this sort.
The first sign of social equality’s importance in political campaigns came, surprisingly enough, very early. A prime example is Jefferson’s victory over the incumbent president, John Adams. Although Jefferson was no common man, the Virginian's simple dress, gentle manners, innate shyness, and true republican rhetoric offered a stark contrast to his cold, pompous, vain New England opponent. However, Jefferson’s victory over Adams were more the result of party conflicts (Democratic-Republican versus Federalist) and the political future of America than it was a triumph of social equality. Jefferson never purposefully distanced himself from the gentry to which he belonged. The first real sign of social equality stealing into presidential elections came with the contest between John Quincy Adams and Andrew Jackson.
John Quincy Adams defeated Andrew Jackson in 1824, an election so close that it makes George W. Bush’s victory over Al Gore in 2000 look like a landslide. In election of 1824, Jackson won more popular and electoral votes than any other candidate, but—not having more than 50% of the electoral votes—the election went to the House of Representatives, where Adams won. For the next four years, Jackson stewed over his defeat as a repudiation of the people’s will; and throughout Adams’s tenure, Jackson and his supporters prepared for a rematch.
Jackson’s chief tactic was to paint Adams as an aristocrat out of touch with the people. This was not hard to do, for even Adams himself had to confess that “Pride and self-conceit and presumption lie so deep in my natural character, that, when their deformity betrays them, they run through all the changes of Proteus, to disguise themselves to my own heart.”[13] While Jackson proposed that the actions of political figures ought to reflect the will of the people, Adams called himself “a leader without followers,” who was “compelled, therefore, to lean upon my own judgment more than it will always bear.”[14] While Adams had been born to a distinguished family and been a long-time political careerist, Jackson’s origins were humble and his political career undistinguished. Adams represented the older America, New England; whereas Jackson heralded in a new age as something of a self-made man from South Carolina who had made a success of himself in the West, a national hero in the War of 1812 , and a renowned Indian fighter and hater. Adams’s supporters characterized Jackson as violent and uncivilized, and they played up Jackson as something of an illiterate savage. Jefferson called him “one of the most unfit men, I know of for such a place [the presidency] . . . merely an able military chief . . . and a dangerous man.”[15]
When Andrew Jackson ran for president in 1828, he ran as the leader of a new political party, a faction of the old Democratic-Republican party. A little word game shows just how America had changed. While John Quincy Adams ran as a National Republican (the remaining faction of the Democratic-Republican party), Jackson dropped “Republican” altogether and ran as a Democrat. No longer did democracy possess a negative connotation. Although it had been used in both positive and negative manners for decades, its meaning, as ushered in by Jackson, was the one that would prevail. Since Jackson, a president (or virtually any other political officer for that matter) must always portray himself as a man of the people. He cannot claim a privileged status as a natural aristocrat of uncanny virtue, education, and property. He must be associable with the common man, the demos, the people (e.g. William Henry Harrison’s “Log Cabin Campaign,” and the cult of Lincoln). “Republic” and “republican” were still useful terms, and no American politician would dare distance himself from republicanism; but America had clearly begun a transition. Before, “democracy” had been cloaked in “republicanism.” Now, “republicanism,” was now cloaked in “democracy.”
In 1828, Jackson soundly defeated John Quincy Adams in an election that was not only a personal vindication for Jackson, but a sign of yet another novus ordo seclorum. Although Jackson won the election for several reasons--including his proposed policies and his fame as a military hero--the most telling aspect of his victory was that he was not an aristocrat, that he loathed aristocrats, and that from 1828 on “aristocrat” would become a damning sobriquet for any man with aspirations for national politics.
* * * *
America by the 1830’s
Americans in the present day use the word democracy very loosely, perhaps even carelessly. They take for granted that all men and women possess the right participate in governance, albeit vicariously, via universal suffrage. Rarely, if ever, do they reflect upon the fact that, throughout the course of history, among the various forms of government known to man, democracy is the exception. Indeed, when Jefferson penned the Declaration of Independence and John Hancock and his fellow delegates added their signatures, there was no foregone conclusion that the United States would be a democracy. To many of the founding fathers, democracy was anathema, as corrupt and potentially tyrannical as any monarchy; yet when the French aristocrat Alexis de Tocqueville published his observations of American society in January 1835, he entitled it Democracy in America.[16]
Tocqueville’s work was a socio-political analysis of the American people during the heart of the Jacksonian era. Of American society he said, “The social condition of the Americans is eminently democratic.”[17] There were, he observed, certain men of extensive wealth and prestige in the South, “But . . . they possessed no privileges; and the cultivation of their estates being carried on by slaves, they had no tenants depending on them, and consequently not patronage. . . . This kind of aristocracy sympathized with the body of the people.”[18] Here Tocqueville identifies one of the other keys to republican ideology, and one instrumental to America’s emergence as something of a democracy (not, ironically, so much as a republic). Republican ideology held that no man should be beholden to any other man; a free man does not owe his sustenance to any other. In America, vast and inexpensive tracts of land made property ownership the rule, not the exception (the opposite of Europe). Thus republican ideologues such as Jefferson could envision a true republic of free, equal, and self-sufficient yeomen. There was, in this dream, a somewhat realistic possibility of political, social, and even economic equality. Yet, as Tocqueville also saw, there was “no country, indeed, where the love of money has taken stronger hold on the affections of men and where a profounder contempt is expressed for the theory of the permanent equality of property.”[19]
The very condition of America as a land of opportunity made economic equality impossible and undesirable. In America, wealth did not secure a man a place in politics, nor did it enable a man to lord over his neighbors; but it did enable men to distinguish themselves nonetheless. There is an element of ego in all men, and republicanism, for all its talk of equality, could not lose the pronoun I. While men want to be equal in some ways, they do not wish to be equal in others. The condition of relative equality in America and the absence of noble titles meant that any man could rise, and this made the drive for economic inequality insatiable. It was through the acquisition of wealth that an American became a great man. While elements of republicanism made it impossible for a man to ride only his economic status to power, Americans never abandoned the notion that the wealthy are the greatest men in society. While there have been presidents of humble origins (e.g. Lincoln, Grant, Clinton), it seems almost an unwritten rule that the chief executive of the United States should be a man of means. Men tend to become wealthy because they are talented, and poor men simply cannot afford the luxury of forming political ties and running for office. Thus, wealth becomes a sign of ability, a starting point for distinction, and the only way that a man can guarantee that he will not be tied to another for his survival.
In a very complex web of contradictions, American republicanism declined into democracy because it was, in practice, autophagic. Like communism, it ignored the fact that ambition is a basic human trait, and its perversion into democracy was the consequence. American republicanism claimed that men are equal, but that there is a natural aristocracy; however, republican equality anathematized any aristocracy. Still, the conditions in America made it possible for a man to start with little and become wealthy, which made the desire for wealth and thus unofficial distinction as a natural aristocrat a common ambition. In a way, republicanism is a “must be” philosophy; and democracy is a “can be” philosophy. Republicans must be this or that way, but democrats (not used here to denote party affiliation) can be this or that. Republicanism makes it possible to be better than ones neighbors, but then says that no man should ever try to be so. Democracy idolizes the common man, but secretly admires prestige and enables common men to become uncommon. In both philosophies, what a man must never be is a nobody; but in republican equality everyone is a nobody, for everyone is equal. Men need heroes, and true republicanism rejects such distinctions. Democracy recognizes equal rights, but embraces ambition. At heart, most people want to be aristocrats—they just don’t want to be left behind others. Men want power and respect. In a democracy, all men have the chance to acquire power and respect. In essence, America’s republican ideologues’ rejection of a titled aristocracy and embracing of a natural aristocracy meant that democracy would supplant republicanism because it was democratic principles and the opportunities of America that made admission to the natural aristocracy possible.
* * * *
The rise of democracy did not mean the death of republicanism entirely. It did, however, change American politics, society, and culture. Republicanism claimed to have the interests of all at heart, but as Tocqueville comments, “No political form has hitherto been discovered that is equally favorable to the prosperity and the development of all the classes into which society is divided.”[20] It is simply impossible to create a classless society. “The advantage of democracy,” Tocqueville continues, “does not consist . . . in favoring the prosperity of all, but simply in contributing to the well-being of the greatest number.”[21] Men will be rich, but they will not, without the support of the majority, control the powers of state and influence society's habits:
The men who are entrusted with the direction of public affairs in the United States are frequently inferior, in both capacity and morality, to those whom an aristocracy would raise to power. But their interest is identified and mingled with that of the majority of their fellow citizens. They may frequently be faithless and frequently mistaken, but they will never systematically adopt a line of conduct hostile to the majority; and they cannot give a dangerous or exclusive tendency to the government.
The maladministration of a democratic magistrate, moreover, is an isolated fact, which has influence only during the short period for which he is elected.[22]
Thus, the democracy of America, in many ways, borrowed republicanism's hatred and fear of aristocratic power, and made the influence of an aristocracy less likely.
Malevolence toward aristocracy, equality in rights, and the individual desire, effort, and ability to acquire wealth are the triumvirate principles of American history; and they were secured tightly (for white men) by the American democracy of the 1830’s. Early America had been republican with many democratic aspects. Modern America (America since the 1830’s) is democratic with many republican aspects. The two are distinct but not exclusive of each other. The United States clearly did not become the nation envisioned by the founders, but it did not become the nation feared by them either. What Tocqueville saw in America convinced him “[T]hat the advent of democracy as a governing power in the world’s affairs, universal and irresistible, was at hand.”[23] And to a French society fraught with strife, he implored,
Let us look to America. . . . [T]he principles on which the American constitutions rest, those principles of order, of the balance of powers, or true liberty, of deep and sincere respect for right, are indispensable to all republics; they ought to be common to all; and it may be said beforehand that wherever they are not found, the republic will soon have ceased to exist.[24]
The use of terms is confusing. In Democracy in America, Tocqueville wrote of the American Republic; and that is what the United States is to this very day: a democracy in a republic, a republic in a democracy.
Works Cited
Shalhope, Robert E. The Roots of Democracy: American Though and Culture, 1760-1800.
Tocqueville, Alexis de. Democracy in America. Part I (1835). New York: Vintage Books
Watts, Stephen. The Republic Reborn: War and the Making of Liberal America, 1790-1820. Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 1987.
Wiebe, Robert H. The Opening of American Society: From the Adoption of the Constitution to the Eve of Disunion. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1984.
Wood, Gordon S. The Creation of the American Republic: 1776-1787. Chapel Hill: The
University of North Carolina Press, 1998.
Wood, Gordon S. The Radicalism of the American Revolution. New York: Vintage Books, 1991.
[1] The actual spelling, in ancient Greek, is dhmokratia. The modern-day spelling has been adapted from French. Check www.dictionary.com for any further etymological inquiries. Also, Aristotle’s Politics provides a somewhat helpful contrast between the idea of a republic and a democracy. According to Aristotle, a republic is a legitimate form of government by the masses, while a democracy is a perverse form of government by the masses.
[2] Quoted in Gordon S. Wood, The Radicalism of the American Revolution (New York: Vintage Books, 1991), 261
[3] Quoted in Gordon S. Wood, The Creation of the American Republic, 1776-1787 (Chapel Hill, NC: University of North Carolina Press, 1969), 164, 168-169.
[4] Quoted in Ibid., 172.
[5] Quoted in Ibid., 162.
[6] Both were considered forms of or tending towards tyranny.
[7] Alexis de Tocqueville, Democracy in America, Part I (1835) (New York: Vintage Books, July 1990), 46
[8] Robert E. Shalhope, The Roots of American Democracy: American Thought and Culture, 1760-1800 (Boston: Twayne Publishers, 1990) xii.
[9] Wood, The Creation of the American Republic, 174.
[10] Ibid, 24.
[11] Ibid., 165
[12] Quoted in Shalhope, 5.
[13] Quoted in Steven Watts, The Republic Reborn: War and the Making of Liberal America, 1790-1820 (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 1987), 203.
[14] Quoted in Ibid., 204.
[15] Quoted in Robert H. Wiebe, The Opening of American Society: From the Adoption of the Constitution to the Eve of Disunion (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1984), 236.
[16] Part I of Democracy in America was published in 1835. Part II was published in 1840.
[17] Tocqueville, Democracy in America, Part I, 46
[18] Ibid., 47.
[19] Tocqueville, 51.
[20] Tocqueville, Democracy in America, Part 1, 239.
[21] Ibid.
[22] Ibid, 239-240.
[23] Tocqueville, “Author’s Preface to the Twelfth Edition,” Democracy in America, Part 1, xix.
[24] Ibid., xxi.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Nature or Nurture?
Following his end of the year review, Mark's exit exams ranked his intelligence as "superior."
That's a point for those who think that we are the sum of our genes...
Then again, he does live with me, so that's also a point for environment...
Will we ever settle this debate?
CH's iPhone Parody #1
This makes me think of iMacStokes.
Grand Theft Auto for the NES
My guess is that golf guy will have no idea why this is funny. Nothing against him, it's just humor for the post-Nixon generation.
(I was going to say post-Johnson administration, but I didn't want him to think that I meant Andrew Johnson).
Cereal Mascot Therapy Session
It's not that I haven't any actual ideas of my own to post, its that this stuff is just too funny.
Minesweeper: The Movie
"What happens then?"
"Nothin'--you just suck."
Board Game Murder Mystery
This is clever, but not if you haven't played board games in the last fifty years.
Wizard of Oz Outtake
I didn't want to post another video tonight, but I ran across this novelty.
Enjoy.
Detroit Red Wings vs Colorado Av's (FULL '97 brawl)
It was this moment more than a decade ago that made me a hockey fan.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
More On Spike Lee's Whining
I wonder if Spike Lee is angry that no Hispanics were cast in Shaka Zulu. Also, no Persians were in North to Alaska. I, quite frankly, am offended that no humans were in March of the Penguins.
Hurricane Katrina Whiners
Many wonder what the displaced people will do, since jobs and housing are scarce in the region.
Here's an idea. Move. Comedian Sam Kinnison said it best, about how really to help the starving people in Africa. Don't send food. Send U-Hauls. If you don't like the effects of hurricanes, then move the hell out of hurricane central. Seriously, if you don't like tobacco smoke, then you choose the no-smoking section of a restaurant. And yes, it's just that simple. I don't like really cold weather, so I don't live in Nome, Alaska. I don't like really hot weather, so I don't live in Death Valley, California--not that I love the winters and summers in Michigan, but they are tolerable.
But FEMA isn't willing to leave one vagrant behind:
"FEMA found an apartment in Baton Rouge for [29 year old Alton] Love and his daughter, who lived at a New Orleans housing project before Katrina."
To me, that sounds like Alton Love's damn job, but whatever. He has a habitable place reserved for him in the state's capitol--yeah feds!
And still the socialists whine, "But after the government pays for the first month, Love has to pay the rent."
Is that supposed to be alarming to us, that the man will have to pay rent for living in someone else's property? Should you or I have to pay rent for this man? Hell no. If this guy won't get a job and provide for himself and his daughter, then relocate him about 200 miles south of Baton Rouge.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
PNWR Yo-Yo Championships 2008
The kid at 6:57 minutes is my cousin.
Virtuoso Spanish Guitar
Nothing like this to remind you that no matter how much better you've gotten at the guitar, you still suck.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Spike Lee Attacks Clint Eastwood; I Attack Spike Lee
To my knowledge, there weren't many African-Americans even at Iwo Jima, so the fact that they aren't depicted in the film does not necessarily represent neglect. The only African Americans that I can think of at that battle were members of the 11th Marine Depot Company and 7th Marine Ammunition Company. Both of these companies served as support for the assaulting soldiers. Since the point of the two films was to depict the men who fought at Iwo Jima, including African Americans would have been mere pandering.
Never you fear, however, for Spike Lee has found the remedy. What he wants is World War II film that fairly depicts the war as a joint white and black American operation.
Said Lee, "Many veterans, African-Americans, who survived that war are upset at Clint Eastwood. In his vision of Iwo Jima, Negro soldiers did not exist. Simple as that. I have a different version," Lee said.
Lee's solution? Miracle at St. Anna, a film that will center around an all-black division fighting in Tuscany, Italy. I can't wait for Eastwood to respond, "Many veterans, white-Americans, who survived that war are upset at Spike Lee. In his vision of the Italian campaign, white soldiers did not exist..."
Besides, who in the hell can take a guy named "Spike" seriously? What makes it worse is that he changed his name to Spike. His given name is Shelton. Now I can understand changing Shelton, but to Spike?
"Mama says, 'stupid is as stupid does.'"
Monday, May 19, 2008
Sex Pistols - God Save the Queen (Studio)
Stripped down, good old fashioned punk rock.
Friday, May 16, 2008
Anti-Lincoln Rant

In an article entitled "The Lincoln War Crimes Trial: A History Lesson" Dr. Clyde Wilson's narrative is absurd in many parts. Mostly, it is far too generous to the Confederates. Wilson does this, probably, because it makes Lincoln look so much worse. Truthfully, this wasn't necessary. Lincoln's record speaks volumes for itself.
Most of the article can be dismissed, but it is worth looking at the idea of Lincoln being charged with war crimes.
Assuming that Lee had won at Gettysburg--which he would have done, had Jackson been alive--the Confederacy would have almost certainly gained its independence. Furthermore, given Lincoln's violation of human rights in both the United States and the Confederate states, as well as his "Final Solution"--as executed by Generals Grant, Sherman, and Sheridan--"Honest" [pronounced "dis-Honest"] Abe would have found himself in quite a fix.
Dr. Wilson provides a list of indictments upon which Lincoln would have been tried. It's worth noting that most of these crimes were committed against the loyal citizens of the United States. Only the last indictment concerns Confederates.
- Violation of the Constitution and his oath of office by invading and waging war against states that had legally and democratically withdrawn their consent from his government, inaugurating one of the cruelest wars in recent history.
- Subverting the duly constituted governments of states that had not left the Union, thereby subverting their constitution right to "republican form of government."
- Raising troops without the approval of Congress and expending funds without appropriation.
- Suspending the writ of habeas corpus and interfering with the press without due process, imprisoning thousands of citizens without charge or trial, and closing courts by military force where no hostilities were occurring.
- Corrupting the currency by manipulations and paper swindles unheard of in previous US history.
- Fraud and corruption by appointees and contractors with his knowledge and connivance.
- Continuing the war by raising ever-larger bodies of troops by conscription and hiring of foreign mercenaries and refusing to negotiate in good faith for an end to hostilities.
- Confiscation of millions of dollars of property by his agents in the South, especially cotton, without legal proceedings.
- Waging war against women and children and civilian property as the matter of policy (rather than as unavoidably incident to combat).
The president's oath of office is ''I do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my Ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States.''
The key, I think, to getting Lincoln on this one is in the last phrase, "and will to the best of my Ability, preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States."
Lincoln's most egregious acts (as to this charge):
- Raising an army. While Article II, Section 2, Clause 1 of the Constitution defines the President as "Commander in Chief of hte Army and Navy of the United States, and of the Militia of the several states. . ." it does not grant him the power to call the army into action. This power is reserved to Congress in Article I, Section 8, Clauses 11 (power to declare war) and 12 (power to raise an army). Clearly, Lincoln violated the principle of Separation of Powers. Those who defend Lincoln on this, claim that he had to act without Congress's consent because Congress was not in session. However, the Constitution provides for such an event in Article II, Section 3: "he may, on extraordinary occasions, convene both Houses or either of them." Lincoln did not call a special session of Congress, for he wanted no inhibitions.
- As for waging war against the Confederate States, consider that Lincoln himself argued that the Confederate States could not have possibly seceded, since secession was illegal. Therefore, Lincoln waged war against states in his own country (if you want to follow Lincoln's logic). This clearly violates Article IV, Section 4 which reads, "The United States shall guarantee to every State in this Union a Republican Form of Government, and shall protect each of them against Invasion. . ." Since Lincoln invaded the states which he considered to be part of the United States, he clearly violated the constitution. However, if we're to accept the argument that the Confederate States did justly secede, then Lincoln invaded an independent country that posed no threat to his jurisdiction. Either way, Lincoln did a bad, bad thing.
- Lincoln suspended the writ of habeas corpus in his own states in order to imprison over 13,000 critics, including the outspoken Clement C. Vallendingham of Ohio. Men were arrested and imprisoned without trial and held at the President's pleasure. Others were tried by military tribunals, even though civilian courts were operational in the area. In Ex-Parte Merriman, Supreme Court Chief Justice Roger B. Taney ruled that this was unconstitutional--especially since only Congress can suspend habeas corpus, and even then only in "Cases of Rebellion or Invasion of the public Safety may require it" (AI, S9, C2). Since Ohio was neither in rebellion nor had it been invaded, neither Lincoln nor even Congress could suspend habeas corpus there. Lincoln responded by ordering Taney's arrest (but he never executed the warrant).
To the fourth indictment, see the comments on the second indictment.
To the fifth indictment:
- Article I, Section 8, Clause 5 does grant Congress the power to coin money. Since "greenbacks" were authorized by The Legal Tender Act of 1862, it was constitutional (but unwise--by the end of 1863, a greenback dollar was worth less than $.40 in coin).
- Maj. Gen. Benjamin F. Butler, a political appointee (he was a valuable "War Democrat") defrauded the United States government and stole from, murdered (e.g. E. Mumford), and tyrannized the people of New Orleans. Lincoln knew about it, and he did nothing. I wrote a 107 page paper for my MA on Butler's reputation--whether it was deserved or not. Trust me, it was deserved.
- Lincoln refused to meet with Confederate dignitaries, for that would be an admission of their legitimacy as an independent country. The Conscription Act, however, was the work of the Republicans in Congress.
- Read up on Butler. Email me, and I'll send you my paper. It's too darn lengthy to post here.
- Here Lincoln is clearly guilty of what the international community currently defines as war crimes, or crimes against humanity. Grant, Sherman, and Sheridan openly practiced what they euphemized as "Total War," and Lincoln endorsed the practice. Read The Hard Hand of War by Mark Grimsley. Sherman's argument that war is Hell doesn't justify what he did. The defense that "Total War" brought an earlier end to the war--and was thus better for all--is also a sham. I don't know about you, but every time I look at historical applications of "the ends justify the means," I don't get a warm, fuzzy feeling inside.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Trivial Psychic
This is a spoof of Walken's character in The Dead Zone. Watch it after you've read the post on Stephen King et alia (two posts ago).
Stephen King, Jus ad Bellum, and a Very Random String of Thought
By far, The Stand is King's best work. Seriously, it was my favorite novel up until I read Orwell's Animal Farm, then Orwell's 1984, then F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby, and finally--for the last decade--Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged.
However, what got me thinking about this was the final conflict in The Dead Zone, one of King's earlier novels.
SPOILER ALERT--If you've never read The Dead Zone but would like to do so, then reading this post any farther might reveal a bit too much.
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In The Dead Zone, the protagonist survives a ghastly accident. After a lengthy coma and lengthier recovery, he gets his act back together but finds that he now has a special ESP. When he touches certain things or people, he can often see into those things' futures.
While he puts this new power to some good use--capturing a serial killer (he might have also been a serial rapist--I can't remember precisely because I was 12 when I read the book, and I'll be 32 this August)--in general, this "gift" is a curse to him.
At one point, he manages to shake hands with a populist candidate for the presidency, and he sees the man's future. In that future, he sees the man unjustly start World War III--nuclear weapons and all.
The protagonist struggles with this revelation, for his "visions" have never once been wrong. What comes up is the old question: "If you could go back in time and kill Hitler before WWII and the Holocaust, would you?"
It's a silly question--at least as long as time travel is not possible. However, even if time travel were to become possible, it's not so simple. Changing the past inevitably changes the future in massive and unexpected ways--just watch Back to the Future or study Chaos Theory's "Butterfly Effect."
But King presents this issue in a different way. Killing the populist candidate for president will not alter the past, it will only alter the future.
Given this man's record of 100% accuracy, would he be justified in killing the populist?
I say yes. Kill him, if there's no other way.
Intentionally killing another person is not an issue to be taken lightly. However, if there is a good enough degree of certainty that a man poses a threat to the lives of others, then using deadly force against him is, as St. Augustine described, jus ad bellum (literally: just cause of war, but essentially to mean the righteous use of violence against another).
If a man were to break into my house and pose a threat to my family, he would meet as many bullets as I could discharge before he was no longer a threat. If I didn't have access to my pistol, then I'd use whatever means I had to reduce his threat. If he died in the process, I would not be culpable of murder. Sure, I committed homicide (literally, the killing of a man), but it was justifiable homicide.
St. Augustine formed the theological justification of war because Christianity is, at its heart, a pacifist religion (don't ask me why so many Christians are willing to use violent force to get their way--such scenarios aren't about Christianity, but are instead about human wickedness, a fact that Christianity accepts de facto, lest Christ's sacrifice was unnecessary).
What St. Augustine needed to do was explain that Christians should abide by the principles of faith, hope, and love, but that it was perfectly reasonable to use violence in defense of oneself or another innocent.
I agree, and that is why I oppose the death penalty.
If it's only just to kill a man who poses a real threat to the lives of others, then capital punishment is not just.
Capital punishment is only possible once the offender has been apprehended, imprisoned, put on trial, imprisoned some more, and then finally killed. At the time of his or her execution, the subject in question no longer poses a threat to anyone. Therefore, capital punishment is not justice. It is murder.
And now my random (but also rational) string of thought has reached an end. Also, I have to pee really bad. So I bid you adieu.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Jeremiah Johnson (1972) - Trailer
This is the best movie ever made. See it, if you haven't yet.
Once you've seen it and fallen in love with it, read Vardis Fischer's "The Mountain Man"--upon which the movie was based.
Also influential to the movie was "The Crow Killer" by whom I can't remember because BAR has my copy. It's kind of an oral/narrative history of the real Johnston--a man not much like the one in the film.
Politics, Politics
I hate McCain. She just doesn't like him.
However, she plans to vote for McCain because she so opposes whichever of the other two win the democratic nomination.
She is like many Americans, and that, ladies and gentlemen, is why we accomplish nothing good via our current party system.
It's a good thing that she has other enduring qualities, lest I should find myself unable to forgive her for such foolishness.
It has been said before, and I'll say it again: The lesser of two evils is still evil. Choose good. Only then can you count yourself absolved of the deluge.
WTF?
If we're to take that Ohio judge's verdict as a precedent, then every father in Detroit whose kids don't finish high school should have 180 days added to their current prison sentences...
Prison should exist only to protect innocent people. This man was no threat to the life, liberty, or property of others, but now he has to spend six months in jail. Then again, this is government in action.
I may live to be one hundred years old and never again hear of a worse exercise of judicial power.
Monday, May 12, 2008
The Onion--Aging Software Helps to Locate Missing Children
4th of july
Here;s another great young singer, Shooter Jennings--the legendary Waylon Jennings's son.
Old Crow Medicine Show - I Hear Them All
Sure, the bulk of music produced in this day and age is unispired crap.
But then The Old Crow Medicine Show saves the day.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Climate Change Conspiracy
In fact, the men and women at the root of the environmental movement, I believe, no that no such link between human activity and climate exists. However, they so passionately wish for everyone to conform to their ideals, that they are willing to propagate the lie.
Since the average person is, in general, a content ignoramus, the modern-day eco-movement has applied four important strategies. In fact, if you look at the strategies, it seems that the bulk of the eco-movement originates in marketing fields, not scientific ones.
These strategies include
1. Creating demand by breeding discontent and spreading fear.
2. Finding celebrity spokesmen.
3. Citing experts (4 of 5 dentists recommend chewing Trident...)
4. Employing a catchy slogan.
First, the average, content ignoramus needs to feel discontented and newly empowered with "knowledge." The ecoists can accomplish this in one fell swoop with an ambuscade of quips, out-of-context statistics, images, and video clips.

Because the ignorami have no real prior knowledge by which to weigh the ecoists' assertions, most are led to believe the assertions. This belief is solidified with powerful imagery, almost all of which is made not to touch one's intellect and reason, but to pull at one's emotions and fears.

This makes for a great commercial, for it advertises a product (in this case environmentalism) and manufactures consumer demand for it. What's missing? How about celebrity spokesmen?

Check out the cute little polar bear next to cute little Leo. Unfortunately, images like this pretty much sum up what the average person knows of and can think of in regards to climate change. This angle also works great for kids. A child may not be able to fathom the really frightening ecoist projections, but if you can convince them that cute little penguins and adorable polar bears are in danger, then you've got yourself a children's crusade (how'd that last one go? They were convinced of the need to take up arms and liberate the Holy Land--apparently there weren't enough grown ups willing to do it anymore--but instead most of them were captured and sold into slavery).
To further demand, "experts" are called in to speak. Men like Al Gore, a politician who cries wolf because he's the guy in town who owns the wolfbusters franchise.
Of course there are real scientists who are on board with the ecoists, but no one ever seems ask two important questions: 1.) Are these scientists ecoists themselves with their own agenda? and 2.) Do these men and women stand to profit from climate-change alarmism?
I believe that the southern states had the right to secede from the union in 1860-61, but if you throw a few million dollars toward me, then I'll write you an essay about how Lincoln is descended from the same Merovingian line as Jesus himself (if you haven't read The Da Vinci Code then that joke makes little sense.
Don't hope that the media will work to uncover this scam. The media knows and adores the very rules by which the ecoists are playing: If it bleeds, it leads. When people are scared, they tune in.
Here's an interesting read on the potential benefits of climate change.
Finally, what the boys in the marketing department need to do is find a simple and mandating slogan, something akin to Nike's "Just Do It." How about "Go Green"?
So, I'm basically arguing that the whole "stop climate change" movement is little more than a marketing campaign run by frustrated ecoists who truly believe that the ends justify the means. The ends, in this case, being a drastic change in human social, political, and economic behavior. The means being a great fabrication to make people think that if they don't change, then everyone is going to die.
Is there anything from history upon which I might base this accusation?
Just as there's no one running around saying that pollution is good, few people were running around in the early 20th century arguing that cocaine was good.
Let's be honest. Cocaine is bad. It isn't much more than a highly addictive poison.
However, back then most southerners thought that the federal government ought to leave people alone to make their own mistakes and suffer from them; that the only just cause for using the coercive powers of government was to prevent the injury of one's rights by another.
However, cocaine use and addiction is bad, but it only harms the user.
This leaves the prohibitionists with a problem. They want to get rid of cocaine, but they can't convince enough people and/or legislators that cocaine--bad as it is--represents a threat to everyone.
Enter Dr. Christopher Koch, who testified before Congress: "Most of the attacks upon the white women of the South are the direct result of a cocaine-crazed Negro brain."
And just like that, southern Congressmen voted in line with northerners to pass the Harrison Narcotics Tax Act, which effectively criminalized cocaine use.
The point here is not to argue that the drug war is based upon a scam (a variation of that--the drug war is ineffective--is, perhaps, the subject of another post). The point is that "Green Laws" and such are the product of the same malicious tactics that made the Harrison Narcotics Tax Act.
The truth is in the details. The "facts" given by the ecoists are not presented to reason but to fear, and the "experts" have a vested financial interest in the movement.
What they've got is a good, simple slogan: "Go Green." Other simple and powerful slogans:
"Resistance is futile."
"War is peace."
"Freedom is slavery."
"Ignorance is strength."
"Yo quiero Taco Bell."
Monday, May 05, 2008
Hillary Clinton: Working Class Hero?
"There's room at the top," they are telling you still,
"But first you must learn how to smile as you kill,
If you want to be like the folk's on the hill."
That might be the best definition of Hillary yet. For her supporters, as John Lennon says, "You're still f***ing peasants, as far as I can see."
Building Bridges
The problem is that it's not really that simple. If my position is one of maximum liberty for all, then of what material do I build the "bridge" between my position and those in favor of less liberty? If my position is to restrict the federal government to its constitutional limits, then of what material do I build the "bridge" between my position and those in favor of a government with fewer or no constitutional limits?
Who builds bridges between themselves and hostiles?--and yes, I define anything that represents an erosion of liberty as hostile. Liberty is an unalienable right. As Jefferson correctly observed, this is "self-evident." So why must we debate it?
"Congress shall pass no law" means exactly that. If you want Congress to pass any laws abridging religion, speech, the press, assembly, or petition, then you must first amend the constitution. Ignoring the constitution simply makes it a scrap of paper to be discarded upon any whim.
I'm not ranting here just about the government's presumption to define marriage and use violence against those who do not conform. I'm ranting here about how willing people are to cut and paste the constitution and the very essence of liberty. "Oh, I like this application of liberty, so I'm going to paste it here; eek! I loathe this application liberty, so I'm going to delete it."
That's not how it works.
Napoleon said "A constitution should be short and obscure."
Napoleon wanted to conquer the world and proclaim himself the emperor of all humanity.
Either wish for a constitution that is firm in its application, or pay homage to your emperor.
Sunday, May 04, 2008
The Onion: Astronauts Suffer Death After Helium Leak
This is a joke, but consider. Only a federally subsidized organization would include helium in its life support system.
Office Space Recut
This is only funny if you've seen the movie. If you haven't seen the movie, then what the heck?
The Rub
Tax Holidays, Ron Paul, and Iraq
That said, I am bothered by politicians who pledge to cut taxes but make no such promises to decrease spending--hence the gas tax "holiday" debate.
Taxes must be cut! But also federal spending must be cut! If you can't cut spending, then you'd better not reduce your revenues. Otherwise, your credit goes to hell. That's econ 101.
Hillary Clinton and John McCain seem to support the idea of a temporary injunction against the federal gas tax, but neither offer any support of cuts to offset the injunction. At least Barack Obama is consistent. He pledges to tax and spend us into poverty. The other two try to suggest that we can spend our way into prosperity, though any half-witted person can tell you that running debts up on your credit card will not make you a whit wealthier--unless your debts are an investment in something real and promising.
When the government spends more than it has, it decreases the value of the dollar. This becomes an "invisible" tax on consumers. Since the dollar is worth less, it costs more to buy things. Clever politicians blame greedy corporations on such price increases, but any intelligent person can see that the current rise in prices is due to poor fiscal policy.
Ron Paul offered a real solution to the tax burden. He would have seen taxes reduced in proportion to spending reductions. Among the various cuts in spending, the most important thing that he would have done was pull us out of Iraq. That alone, if done quickly, will probably save trillions (as opposed to McCain, who says that we should be in Iraq for 100 years, if "necessary"--who defines "necessary"? Hopefully not the military industrial complex!).
What about Clinton, who now, apparently, opposes the war but is on record as having supported it throughout her tenure as a senator?
Obama is able to claim that he never voted for the war, but he never had the opportunity to vote for the war. Ron Paul did have that opportunity, and he declined it. All of Obama's supposed opposition to the war in Iraq is made with the benefit of never having been put on the spot for it. Look at his record. It tells you that Obama is the consummate politician. When the war was popular, he would have voted for it--just as Clinton did. However, only Ron Paul stood up for actual principles and voted against the invasion.
In hindsight, Ron Paul was right about the invasion. Eventually, in hindsight, people will look back on this election and realize that they missed a golden opportunity when they overlooked Ron Paul.
Thursday, May 01, 2008
Ron Paul's New Book
I haven't read it yet, but I will. He talks about it here.