Allow me to explain.  One of the failings of the liberal press and its fellow travelers is that for them, history started this morning.  Those of us who have a memory longer than the last news cycle recall the creepy cult of personality that sprung up around Obama and continues largely undiminished among true believers.  Americans reared with more traditional notions of the relationship between citizen and nation recoil in horror at videos where celebrities pledge to serve the president.

The Obama campaign allowed or nurtured a messianic bubble around their candidate where all the hopes and dreams of the people in that inner circle of devotees were poured into the man.  Consider the online video where an Obama acolyte has people chanting “President Barack Obama” like a New Age mantra to the camera while Randy Rothwell’s “Sanctuary” plays as the soundtrack.  This song calls on God to prepare the heart of the believer to receive the Spirit of God.   It is almost impossible for me to adequately express how profoundly awful it is to see a worship song used in this fashion.  Blasphemy still fails to play in Peoria.

I do not necessarily blame the President for weirdness on the part of his supporters.  I do blame him for the weirdness of those on his payroll.  While the President’s speech may prove innocuous, the lesson plan fronted by the White House included such things as asking kids to meditate on how they could “help the President”.  Not their family, school, or community, but the President.  Coupled with an invitation to read the President’s books and other touchstones of “dear leader-ism” and you can see why we who have not yet drunk the Kool-Aid vigorously object.

Though now withdrawn, given that somewhere north of 90% of education establishment is part of Obama’s cult of personality I believe that many teachers and school administrators will indulge the administration in doing their part to chip away at what is left of individualism.  The very fact that someone in the White House read that lesson plan and saw that it was good tells me that they are paddling their canoe toward a place where leaders are venerated at the expense of the individual.

Bottom line, I don’t think that parents freaked out over an address by the President, it really was a freak out over an address by this President given the backdrop of his cultish campaign and the behavior in which his administration engages.  Not because he is a Democrat, but because the presidency seems to be all about him. Frankly I am encouraged that so many citizens objected.

Jacked-up creepy-freakin’ “Sanctuary” video:

Bizzarre, weird, pompous, self-important “Pledge to be a Servant” video:

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Up Next:

Sunday, August 30 at 6:45 p.m. at the IBEW Hall on Elizabeth and Hampton.  The ObamaCare crowd is busing in activists to chant in favor of socialized medicine.  Let’s show them we care about healthcare by OUTNUMBERING them on their own turf.  The show starts at 7:00, so get their early.

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Later, thousands gathered for a Tea Party rally in Kiener Plaza downtown easily filling up 75% of the area.  On July 4^th, hundreds gathered despite the deluge that soaked our corner of the Show-Me State.  August 22 saw hundreds more overwhelm the offices of our representatives demanding action.

The left does not know what to do with itself.  They are rocked back on their heels.  Like a bully who unexpectedly sees blood pouring from his nose after the scrawny kid finally punches back, I think they are trying to figure out what the hell just happened.  For now, all they can think of is to curse.

Unused to being a populist uprising we don’t know if the left have a glass jaw, or are we in for a bruising fight?  I don’t know, but I say once we are in a scrap we don’t quit until the opponent is in a deep, hot smoking crater.  We must not let up.  The American Left and their enablers among the “moderate” GOP have built the infrastructure of our enslavement, and we have learned that they mean to use it.

Marxist/Socialist/Fascist ideology is insatiable and knows no limits.  Its elite purveyors have no compunction.  They have scraped and clawed, grasping at power and aggregating to themselves more and more authority at the expense of the people who actually make the country work.

We normal folk who want nothing more than to live in peace and pursue happiness have indulged these appetites, many of us half believing the cynical appeals to our better angels. Help the poor, help the sick, shelter the homeless they say, even as their programs consume vast resources and make not so much as a dent in any of these problems they champion.

America is starting to hear the terrifying crackle of a civilization ablaze.  Many of us are responding to the claxon and joined with our neighbors to fling buckets upon the flames.  Tens of thousands have formed brigades to save their communities from power-hungry cynics.

Consider that hiss from leftist zealots in politics, media and the academy as proof that flames are being doused, but that does not mean the fire is out.  We have to redouble our efforts, to make Leftists accountable for the harm they have caused, and plan to cause.

Many of our neighbors who support this government are well-meaning.  To them we ought to be kind and patient.  On the other hand, the leftist elite have earned our full, tireless fury.  We must bring it to bear until Big Government, their infrastructure of tyranny, is utterly dismantled.

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The president himself states that we are “partners with God” over these grave issues.  I would not say that I am God’s partner, but I am certainly His servant, and I am both humbled and delighted to serve.  Being a follower of Christ, among the general commands articulated by The Master himself are these:  Feed the hungry, clothe the naked, shelter the homeless and visit those in prison.  Pure religion is that widows and orphans receive care and mercy.  Anything that I have done to the least of these His brethren, I have done for Him. 

This may seem alien to my secular readers, but the Judeo-Christian tradition of charity is obedience to God’s call on our lives.  Giving and mercy are both spiritual gifts that scripture teaches must be exercised to do the work of the Church, which is to glorify God and make him known in the world.   Charity is an act of worship, expected of the believer as an exercise of faith.

The point that I am spooling up to is this:  The power to tax is the power to send a man with handcuffs someone’s home and exact money.  How can I as a Christian demand that the tax man go to my non-believing neighbor and exact resources to do God’s work?  When I write a check to support a clinic, I am drawing upon the resources of the Most High, who gives me all things I need to do His work in this world.  The non-believer may not make this claim (though God may still provide).

Christians who agitate for government-funded charity like health care are well motivated, but whatever appeal to my conscience they are trying to make is on shaky ground.  Forcing a charitable enterprise upon the unredeemed upon pain of law is not materially different than sending a cop to drag a man to church.

The very foundation of the health care system we enjoy in the US was built out of the pockets of Christian and Jewish congregations uniting to bring mercy to their friends and neighbors without regard to their creed, and for the most part without regard to their ability to pay.  The faithful, and those inspired by the faithful did this voluntarily and found great joy in the work.

If my Christian brothers and sisters wish to provide clinics and hospitals for the poor over and above what is offered now, I encourage them to join with the charitable institutions already in place and help.  Christian Charity is rewarding and commanded. We can’t relieve ourselves of our obligation by subcontracting this work to a bureaucrat.  Perhaps that’s why it’s been such a dismal failure.

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I would pretty much vote for a ham sandwich rather than be represented by a carpet-bagger. Worse, Carnahan proved to be to the left of even Dick Gephardt.  He voted for TARP, Porkulus, and Cap and Trade.  He’s all for Obamacare.  It has been as if San Francisco has two elected representatives.

Over the years, the GOP has fielded candidates, each slowly inching closer to the critical 51% mark to unseat the incumbent. Russ won in 2008 with a surprisingly narrow 53%.  Had he not been buoyed by President Obama’s historic election, William Federer may have been our Representative. God bless Bill, he is sitting this election out.

I had lunch with Ed Martin the other day.  He’s an attorney who will run against Carnahan in 2010.

Ed is no ham sandwich.

I was expecting a certain amount of oily, weaselly reserve.  Ed is an attorney.  I expected a man who talked like he was paid by the word.

What I found was great lunch company.  Ed is very bright and gregarious, laughs easily and can eat food spicy enough to take the paint off a battleship. Ed was open and transparent with his life and we quickly found things in our lives that overlapped beyond just kids.  In about five minutes I was having an extraordinarily good time.

Ed is passionate about many things, but politics is not in the top five.  His faith, family, friends, home state and nation are his top priorities.  Ed is in politics to serve those interests, not the other way around.  We share ideas about freedom and the proper role of government.  I learned that we are shocked and appalled by the same things and want to defend aggressively our precious liberty.  Ed is a kindred spirit.

What I found most impressive about Ed isn’t his savvy, which is substantial, or his passion which is great.  Ed is at his core a happy warrior.  The growling, cynical misfits of action movies are not the best soldiers in a fight.  It is instead those who labor for a purpose greater than themselves, who trust that Providence judges the heart, not the score.  Ed exudes that delight in serving in these trying times, and that I found the most impressive trait of all.

Ed is not friends with billionaire-supported political action committees.  I don’t think he is on the East Coast Republican’s Christmas Card list. His success will be a combination of a grassroots groundswell and convincing conservative PACs that he is a serious threat to Carnahan.

So, good friends, I ask that if you can, please throw your support behind Ed Martin.  I plan to help him out both as a volunteer and with my financial resources. Ideally Ed would have several hundred donors from all zip codes in Missouri’s 3rd district.  A $5.00 donation from thousands is so much better than thousands from five.

The people are cheesed off.  I think a realignment is in the making.  The political Left has been playing to defeat us.  I think we are over indulging them and ourselves and start playing to win as well.  Victory is to be had if only we ride to the sound of the guns.

Below please find a link to Ed’s website.  If you respond to me with good candidates in your district, I will Twitter and blog on them too.

Thank You for your Kind Attention
Tim McNabb

EdMartinForCongress.com

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On Twitter today, I got this reply:

@TimMcNabb what does ed martin jr think about congressional pension and insurance, if he’s for it, I’m against him, http://tinyurl.com/pvtagk

If you follow the link, you will find an excellent, even cathartic, set of rules that I would LOVE to see congress have to follow Item #9.  Nothing will make you a conservative faster than cutting a check for Federal, State, and local payroll tax.  Throw in the double whammy of having to pay both halves of your FICA tax and you’ll want to smack yourself in the head with a hammer and scream “Ronald Reagan”.

Given the current controversy over health insurance, I would like to see them have to go out and buy insurance like a sole proprietor as suggested in item # 4.  I have had to do it, and while I liked it a lot better than not having insurance, or (gasp) expecting my neighbors to cover it, it is nerve-wracking to know your contract is for just one year.

All that said, I think we can shoot ourselves in the foot if we start setting our expectations at impossible levels.  Does Ed have to introduce legislation?  Does he have to just vote against new goodies?

What if Ed has to go along with a pay increase in exchange for repealing cap and trade?  Is screwing congresscritters more important than getting that abomination off the books (assuming it passes)?  While it is a VERY close call, I’d have to take that deal.

This is the rub of politics.  I understand good men and women have to hold their nose and cut the deal that is best overall.  Rather than set a single thing that is our tripwire, I think we will be better served with a hierarchy of expectations.  Free market health care reforms, no cap and trade, end bailouts. We’ll work our way down the list to less important issues.

We’ll all have different lists. Some of us will be more easily satisfied.  However, if we allow ourselves to be satisfied with half a loaf rather than demanding the whole thing, we can begin the trudge back to a government that is less insane.

This is certainly not an invitation to let ourselves be screwed, but we did not get into this mess overnight, and President Bush and the “Moderate” Republicans did their fair share.  Ed, or any other future freshman congressman will certainly get on my nerves as compromise is inevitably made.  I plan to just keep my list and keep watch. I may want to head Due West and gun it until I hit the ocean, but I know as a grown-up we’ll hit nearly all the points on the compass as we unwind this monstrosity.

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I can say it has been a solid used car. I have never, and probably never will, buy a car new. Used cars make far more financial sense, even accounting for repair costs and the occasional unexpected breakdown. For $3000 ($1500 to purchase, about another $1500 in major repairs) I drove a reasonably reliable vehicle for over four years. It is inevitable that you will be inconvenienced one day on the highway, but I say carry AAA and a cell phone and comfort yourself with he fact that over five years you are likely saving tens of thousands of dollars (I buy really cheap cars). One big repair I did myself with the aid of my very mechanically talented son. 300 bucks in parts, 8 hours of labor, 100 bucks to my son and 1400 bucks to my physical therapist. Net savings $19.21. That’s three lattes at Starbucks if you have a coupon.

My legendary thrift aside, all good things come to an end. I cleared out my van of stuff and made arrangements to take my car to a “recycling center”. Taylor’s place is a junkyard about six miles from my job. Located at St. Charles Rock Road and Kingsland, they offered a fair sum if I drove the van to them, saving them the trouble of a tow. My plan was to load up my bicycle, offer up a handful of prayers invoking the patron saint of drivetrains and drive the van in. I would complete my trip to work under my own power. On the evening before taking my 15 year old beater, I pulled up to my garage and noted that the van was not where I left it.

The damn thing had been stolen.

Annoyed as hell, I reported it missing to the police, after establishing it had not been towed for some violation of alley-parking etiquette. Around 9:00, the police dropped by my house and asked if I was missing a van. The 1st district cops gave me a ride where the van had been abandoned, after first encouraging me to get a screwdriver to use as a “key” as the ignition switch had been wrecked. The little Rasputins who had boosted the van had found several solid objects against which to rub the fenders and quarter-panels. A loose plastic chunk made a forlorn, staccato wail from the wheel well until I yanked the piece free.

The next morning I loaded up my fancy bicycle, donned my fancy cycling shoes and clothing and continued on with the intended mission. I was prepared to accept a lesser sum, though the man offered the amount sight unseen. I did tell him about the bad transmission, but he asked no more questions. Arriving early, I pulled into the seemingly abandoned junkyard. Doors were open, music played, but the only human form was a mannequin lying on the ground, clothed in a mechanics uniform and surrounded by empty beer cans. Under my breath I muttered “Cujo?”.

Eventually a sturdy man drove up from the bowels of the yard in a giant forklift and asked if I was going to junk my van. He told me the guy who handles those transactions would be in somewhere between 8:00 and 8:30. The yard opened at 8:00 for people seeking used parts.

Right at 8:00 people began to file in. Admission is a buck, though I think it applies to the price of any parts you buy. Working men brought tools and grabbed wheelbarrows to find the part they needed to get back on the road. An older black man strode through with a failed part, his son or grandson following. The young man chirpped happily away obviously glad to be with a respected mentor.

FYI – if you ever need to feel like an idiot, I recommend you begin by putting on spandex cycling shorts with a pad tucked up in your nether regions followed by a snug cycling jersey. Finish the deal by standing in a gritty junkyard as people who have real jobs file past. Perhaps the only way to be a bigger tool would be to saunter to the grimy window where “Joe” collected money for parts and order a soy macchiato. With nutmeg.

“Joe” didn’t have much use for me. I said “Hi” and offered my hand, which he refused, half-regarding me out of the corner of his eye. I thought about making a wisecrack about the snub, but I was outnumbered by young men who worked for a living. My shorts already ride up. A wedgie would be catastrophic, probably requiring reconstructive surgery.

Eventually Da Boss arrived. He was friendly and we quickly exchanged paperwork and handshakes. I looked at the check and calculated how much more valuable my bicycle was than my car (4x). A young man sprayed “94 7/1″ in yellow paint indicating the day they got the car and the model year. I tucked away the check, loaded up my junk and took off for work.

I have a nice, easy job where I work with my head, not my hands. Surrounded by conditioned air and clean environs, I can remember scrambling to find a part at a junkyard in the afternoon so I could fix my car in the evening to get to work in the morning. A mechanic named Doc takes care of most of my repairs. I can turn a wrench, but it is an option, not a necessity. That said, I do not pity those guys I saw today, neither do I envy them in some yeoman-hero sort of way.

I just appreciate them.

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