The sad truth is, the young whelp had no sense of the insult because he has no knowledge of who America is. And most of what he knows about her is tainted at best. In fact, he only knows what he has been taught to believe by the tenured shadows of man’s darker nature. To his radicalized mind, November 20 was a wonderful day…a day of victory!
A day of victory indeed…Victory for the mob over the rule of law, for the takers over the givers, for corruption over integrity, for vindictive over valor, wrong over right and evil over good! Yes, oh happy day for the “Social Justice” crowd driving the unaccountability magic bus of unintended consequences to the ends of the world…a trip that honest people are forced to take and pay for…while the criminals and liars ride for free.
Geraldo thinks it’s great…but Geraldo thinks Al Sharpton is someone to admire. The orthopedic surgeon who put me back together so I could walk normally again, spent a year of his life as an army surgeon putting our wounded warriors back together in Iraq in 2003. So what does Geraldo say to my surgeon and all the other men and women in uniform he has always claimed to support after their Commander-in-Chief, through feckless incompetence, erases their sacrifices in Iraq and then shreds the very Constitution they’ve fought and died for on Ugly Thursday?
The following “piece of prose” along with its introduction hit my inbox this morning. Reading this and watching the Republicans skip town after taking the President’s last straw bending over, brings me to a realization best described by Jefferson:
The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants.
…who also composed this;
When in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with one another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and Nature’s God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.
The opening paragraph of our petition for divorce from the abuse of British tyranny, otherwise known as the Declaration of Independence, was produced from the prophetic mind of Jefferson with the man, whose long train of abuses and usurpations would finally reach its last stop on November 20th 2014, in his sights!
We are at the end of the line. Ignorance will be no excuse. The same God that gave man intellect gave him free will as well. Some of us will disembark to the left, others to the right. My friend Marty wrote, “It really resonates, no?” referring to the piece you are about to read. Yes, it resonates with those of us who hold steadfast to our sacred oaths and vows, against the deceptive charms of those who would lead us to question these oaths, violate our consciences and separate from ourselves for the false claims of the “greater good”! Cyrellys’ words will never resonate with those who’ve abused their own intellect to deny natural law and follow blind faith in pursuit of empty promise at the expense of their own souls!
Old World Celt
Who is an Old World Celt? What is it? ~
Whether you were born with some known amount of Celtic blood, of any its sprawling origins, or whether you simply feel or suspect the nature is integrally you, an Old World Celt is a moving force within the world. But who is this force?
We are remembering!
I am a child of the sun, Grian. Upon my hair and my face sunlight is found. I am clean, clear of voice, and bright of countenance. I fear not color. I fear not song. Dance is in my step and when unseen, within my heart. My hand is firm and steady. My eye keen and sharp. My mind thinks of excellence, craftsmanship, and justice. I am a keeper of my brother’s natural rights. I am mindful of ineptitude, careful of the fragile, and supportive of those in need. I am a shield wall before evil and a soft rain nourishing creation. I am an indomitable freeman, not slave.
You will not find me as a mindless follower. You will not find me in the halls of religion. I am as much a leader on the field of soul enrichment as I am a leader on a field of battle. I will not be found abiding tyranny, or inequitable social engineering. I believe all men and women were created equal. My mate is my partner, my neighbor my brother, and the stranger on the street a valued guest at my door. Women of my kind do not walk any steps behind. I am kind and gentle with the least creature of this world and yet a firestorm in conflict. I am the ripple in the lake and the poised boulder upon the cliff. I am as comfortable alone in the forest as I am among the crowd in the hall. I am confident in my self for I am wise with moderation, full of thought, quick of question, generous of courtesy, a force to be reckoned with in partnership with truth.
I fear not my food whether it is of a type another abhors or a concept created to assault me. My shield and my sword are my mind, my mouth, and my hand before ever they are a weapon. My prudence is first to hush, to stop, and to listen. I know wisdom from the mouths of babes, experience best found in the aged, and truth best found in the soil of observation.
O tyrant I see you and you shall not pass. I bar the threshold with my self before you!
O tyrant you call me whore. Fine. I call you slave. For you are bound by your bedfellows of rules, regulations, and mandates, whilst I am bound only by reason, logic, and craftsmanship. Imagination is my kinsman. Liberty my mother. And Justice my father. And the Creative Universal Source who others call God is my Craft-master and guide; for I am its apprentice!
I embrace the Pursuit of Happiness for each of my fellow humans. And I do not limit any of this to mankind. The stars are a universe of communities, undiscovered by self-limited minds. I am fully myself and you will not note me as politically correct. I will respect the views of another to a honest and fair degree, but I will not sacrifice myself or what I am for the convenience of someone else, particularly any who are unable to respect who and what I am before any question of societal or political differences are laid bare.
As an Old World Celt I have deep reverence of my ancestors and respect for yours. I will carefully consider the wisdom of the past before I relegate anything to the trash. I will preserve history whether it is mine or not; whether it is palatable or not. I will teach the young at every opportunity and exchange stories and ideas with my peers. The elders are my treasures not old hats to be shoved in a corner of society and forgotten. I keep my nature impeccably clean and honest, same as I do my mouth and my hand. Upon my sword regardless of kind is written these words: I defend life and liberty.
If you meet me on the street, I will look you in the eye as we pass, and nod, for you are a valued living being and due the same acknowledgement as I can hope for myself. If you come to my door, I will offer you first drink for it is my obligation to nourish, guide, and protect any guest beneath my roof before I do so for myself. If I meet you in the halls of academia or governance, I will first listen, and then think before I open my mouth to speak. For the ramifications of all words or action touch more than myself and my chosen acquaintances.
As an Old World Celt of any brand, I am a steward of my world AND an inhabitant AND a moderate user of resources. What I take I replenish. If I destroy, I balance with building or growing. If I profit beyond my means, I turn and share with brethren. If I see neglect, I step in and repair. I am balance to negativity and the world has never not needed the likes of me.
Where there is loss, I present dream. Where there is devastation I will rise bringing hope. Evil fears the Celtic, for we are fierce in opposing it. We built a nation as a beacon for what we are and what the people of Earth might some day rise to be, and despite the gains of evil during our sleep, she stands yet. The fundamentals of what we built still reside beneath the fog of conscription and illicit modification. It is by our estimation recoverable. As we remember who we are, so too we remember the original intent of what we built, and what falls can be set upright once more.
In the West there are whispers of the Rising…in the deep woods among the cedars; in the fields of barley and hops and beans; in the sand of the beaches; in the caves of the ancient lava flows; in canyons of red stone; in the sacred hills of our native kinsmen; in the libraries and bookstores; in the coffee shops and at the water cooler; in the community hall beneath the bright lights and on the shadowed street corners; in the barns and stables; in the early minutes of the sports events; in living rooms of the aware….we are here, unnoticed, standing beside the trappings of modern civilization watching. We have seen the dark tide that threatens to overwhelm civilized man. And we in our generational memories are no stranger to what the loss of civilization would look like. We hear the cries of the early victims, singled out among the throng by the evil and the opportunistic — and a fire has been lit in our heart. Fierce and hot are we, yet coolly calculating.
We have heard the call, the cry in the night slipping across the land, to rise and be counted among the strong.
And in the great storm there comes from the likes of us a returning cry…for as an Old World Celt in defense of a nation; in defense of a World, I am a giant, sword wielding champion! No matter in what part of the world I reside,
I AM ROAR!
“A wise man’s heart inclines him to toward the right, but a fool’s heart toward the left.” ~ Ecclesiastes 10: 2