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Archive for January, 2016

1. I get it. Really, I do.
As a conservative, the idea that Trump could be the GOP nominee is terrible. Hell, as a human being, I find this idea repugnant. But honestly, the question for me is “When the media and the Left (BIRM) have taken their best shots at Mr. Hell Toupee, and he and his followers (I’d say supporters, but in truth, I’m not seeing much to differentiate them from Obama followers, and we all know why we use that word to describe them) have just laughed them off and doubled down, to great applause, what does National Review believe that this will accomplish?” At best, this is an exercise in preaching to the choir; and at worst, it makes as much impact as a fart in a hurricane.

2. Principles matter.
People like me are glad to see that some people who identify as Republicans are now on board with this idea have decided to join the rest of us. Perhaps if a few more self-identified Republicans had been as vocal on this point when those elected in 2008 and 2010 declined to fight the fights that matter, the fights we elected them to fight, regardless of their assessments of success in doing so, then we wouldn’t be facing the apparent possibility of a Trump candidacy, let alone the horror of a Trump nomination. Instead, usual suspects continued to support the Marquis of Queensberry Rules and the Imperial Rules of Engagement, and rendered all their talk hollow and cheap to a frustrated electorate. So when the party and its institutions point out that Trump’s prior statements and actions don’t square with his current ones, they fail to recognize that they are the pot calling the kettle black for most Americans, and most bitterly to those who until this latest election season, trusted them.

3. Endorsements of Trump from the likes of Bob Dole and Trent Lott don’t help. Seriously, the next party flunky who jabbers about the “unacceptability” of someone with principles, who has walked the walk, and demonstrated an understanding of the Trumanism “If you want a friend in D.C., buy a dog.” while extolling Trump’s “electability” should be given his or her walking papers. The mere utterance of the word by someone with Republican credentials is taken as confirmation that the label matters more to them than the content, that the win matters more than policy, and that is why “electability” has given us sterling candidates, like Romney, McCain, and Dole, whose great success in Presidential elections gives credence to this concept and the priority that the party put on it.

4. Condescension doesn’t work.

You can say that people don’t know the issues and don’t know what they are doing, and in many cases, you’d be right. But are those people going to listen to anything you say after that? Probably not.

Progressive philosophy and dogged determination have done much to dumb our neighbors down. There is no immediate miracle to reverse this. But what you can do is engage individuals and respectfully challenge their assumptions and conclusions, and when you win them with patience and a dogged determination all your own, they will do the same.

5. We are in a scary place right now…
…and the impossible choice between and inveterate liar with no regard for the lives of people who selflessly dedicate their lives for this country, self-proclaimed socialist who promises to make everything “free”, including things government has no business providing to anyone, while at the same time acknowledging that those “free” things have an enormous cost on one side, and on the other, an egotistical, brash narcissist who, like the man he seeks to succeed, also has no understanding of the limitations imposed on the Executive branch of government, by design, is frightening. Especially when this man’s exaggerated sense of self-worth impairs his ability to thoughtfully reflect on the actions of others and respond in a manner which is best for the country, rather in a fashion that would best assuage his outsized ego.

Anger, righteous anger, and a willingness that no mainstream Republican demonstrated to actually talk about issues unfiltered by the restrictions of euphemism and fear of offending anyone brought us to this point. We can talk all day long about how anger doesn’t win elections, but 2008 and 2010 are proof that this is wrong. Because of this, and the excuses and failure yielded by the trust placed in the party after the last two elections, the talk about anger not working will fall on deaf ears, closed by the empty past rhetoric of “electability” and “compromise” from suits festooned with the party label.

Until the party publicly declares ownership of this disaster, it won’t regain any credibility with anyone. And the longer we go on without this admission of responsibility, the more likely it is that we really will have to hold our noses and choose the least onerous choice on a menu of excrement, and if that happens, we will remember the people most responsible for this for a long, long, long time.

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17

Lise stood in the doorway of the bathroom, moving her left hand slightly in the light spilling out over her shoulder  into the bedroom, wanting to hate herself for her “girly” fascination with the ring on her finger, but unable to stop the smile from forming on her face as she watched the facets of the sapphire glitter and glow in the soft yellow light of the bathroom fixtures.

A soft chuckle from the bed caused her to look up at Cooper, and ask “And just what are YOU laughing at, mister?”

Without missing a beat, Cooper said “I’m not laughing, I’m chuckling, and you should probably not pay me any mind.”

Her right eyebrow arched as her left eye narrowed, as she playfully asked “And why is that?”

“Because I am not ashamed to admit that I am distracted right now.”

“And what would have you so distracted that I shouldn’t pay attention to your behavior?”

He smiled broadly and replied “Because that mischievous look and that ring are the only things you’re wearing at the moment.”

She walked the few paces to the bed where she pulled the sheet back and said “Let’s see how distracted you are,” before stopping and hoping that in the low light, Cooper couldn’t see the flush she felt coming to her cheeks.  “Oh,” she exclaimed, regaining some of her composure.  “Now I’M distracted, and I think we should do something about that.” she said as she climbed into the bed and pulled the covers up over both of them.

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An hour and half later, Lise felt sleep coming for her as she spooned Cooper’s reclining form, and was thinking that she should get a few hours sleep before waking him up again when she realized that although his breathing was measured and shallow, he was not asleep.  She opened her eyes and saw that him staring into somewhere that was a million miles away from the warm bed and her warmer embrace.

“Penny for your thoughts?” she asked pensively.  If he heard her, he gave no indication of it.  She raised her head from his chest, and her voice with it.  “Yoo hoo!  Earth to Cooper!”

His eyes remained on the unseen as he almost absent-mindedly said “Sorry.”  She waited for a further explanation that didn’t come, before the question in her eyes came tumbling out of her mouth.  “Sorry for what?”

He turned and his eyes came into focus on her face.  “Sorry, I was just thinking that I have to talk to Jake about this…about us…tomorrow.”

“Oh.” she replied.  “Do you think we should do it together?”

“No,” he said.  “I should do it.”

“Do you think it will be a problem?” she asked.

“I don’t know if “problem” is the right word.  He likes you,probably more than even Rick, and I don’t think he’ll object to you being around a lot more.  It’s just that it’s been just him and I for so long.  While this…youRick.. have kind of “expanded” his circle, I’m just not sure what his reaction will be.”

Lise reflected on their first meeting, and how Cooper was clearly protective of the young man, but not stiflingly so, and how obviously the young man relied on Cooper in a number of unsaid ways.  The surveillance footage from the few weeks prior to contact showed an unusually strong bond between the father and the son, but not one that was completely unexpected considering the life they had lived since fleeing their home.

“Is it his mother?” Lise asked.

Cooper didn’t answer right away.  “I really don’t know,” he finally said.  “We have never really discussed her.  I suppose under other circumstances, it might be unusual that she left one morning, we never saw her again, and the issue of her has never once come up, but on the other hand, I think even he understood that she was never coming back…that nothing would bring her back.  And it isn’t like you would be taking her place, at least not in any way that he would recognize.  I guess I’m just afraid of the questions he might ask, because I’m not sure how I’ll answer them, or even if I want to answer them.  But I have to be the one to do it.  It will probably be fine, but I guess it’s more about my fears about what he might ask than how he will actually react.”

Lise climbed on top of Cooper, leaned forward, and kissed him slowly, before drawing back and saying “I think that he’s been damn lucky to have you looking out for him, and that you will find the right words to help him deal with any questions he might have.”  Then she kissed him again, and again, as once more, Cooper felt the now familiar stirrings urging him to lose himself in the love of this woman whom he couldn’t imagine his life without now.
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Three hours later, he slowly and gently pulled away from Lise’s slumbering body, and quietly got dressed before heading down to the kitchen, where he knew he would find Jake eating breakfast.

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