Choices: Principles vs Institutions
Humans create institutions to institutionalize our values, religious practices, hopes and aspirations, cultural identity, etc. Our institutions are created in order to make permanent and carry our values forward, a sort of vehicle. Schools, libraries, government agencies, religious institutions, family foundations, charitable foundations, unions, associations, etc, every single one created with a mission to implement certain principles.
Over time people naturally identify with a particular institution, become a champion of it, and a stakeholder to it. Again, private schools, public school PTAs, library associations, the National Ukrainian Club, various church and synagogue umbrella groups, Democrat Party, Republican Party, etc, you know those particular institutions in your own life, because they reflect your values.
What happens when the institution no longer represents or reflects the founding principles that breathed life and cause into it?
Examples abound: The Democrat Party has become a wild communist orgy of anti-Americanism; the Republican Party has forsworn its abolitionist roots and has become a bunch of establishment do-nothing fuddy-duddies; the National Rifle Association accretes multiple layers of bureaucracy into everything it does, instead of spending its limited money pursuing individual freedom; school teachers unions become outlets for destructive radical politics, far outside the mainstream of American families; a local church or synagogue is poorly run by a small group of self-reinforcing, self selecting, like-minded establishmentarians who cannot and will not respond to changes in their respective demographics…
The one that got me thinking about this subject is the Pennsylvania Federation of Sportsmen’s Clubs, a sportsmen’s group I had a long relationship with, which then attempted to take a hard left turn into climate alarmism and gun regulation back in 2020. In one quick weekend of fake votes and heavily manipulated elections, the PFSC leadership torpedoed the institution the leaders said they loved. Their far-left politics alienated their base, and the group has not yet recovered its former standing.
With PFSC, I took a hard and public stand, and while I succeeded in stopping the old group from becoming leftist stooges of the charitable foundation trust fund sector, I also lost a lot of friends. People who were loyal to the PFSC they remembered, and who they wanted it to still be. Some blamed me for damaging PFSC’s public reputation, while I blamed PFSC’s leadership for making unpopular decisions its base rejected. For sure the messenger got shot!
In 2020, PFSC’s leaders jettisoned the principles on which PFSC was originally founded, and a great portion of their natural base stopped believing in the institution.
Recently I stepped back from a formal leadership role in a local house of worship, as the venerable institution begins to crumble onto itself. Leaders there, who fondly remember this house of worship from their childhood, cannot make the tough decisions necessary to keep it alive, and in fact keep making decisions that guarantee few or no young people will join it and keep it going. This particular institution is beginning to greatly deviate from its own founding principles, and its base, its natural adherents and admirers, no longer recognize it.
One last example: The US Environmental Protection Agency was a place I badly wanted to work in while I was in college back in the mid 1980s. When I finally got to work at the USEPA, I realized that a great deal of the basic principle that had undergirded its founding had been long since tossed overboard. In place of the simple principle of a clean environment came a whole regime of anti-capitalism, anti-America regulations. After seven years as a policy staffer at USEPA, I could not wait to get out. I now think the agency needs a whole new name and a very clear mission change.
So should we be loyal to the hollowed out shells of institutions that exist mostly in facade, hopeful that they will somehow regain their former glory, or should we seek to create new institutions that are more representative of the principles that enervated the originals we so dearly loved and identified with?
Change is a constant, evolution is healthy, and institutions that do not change to some degree become stale, immobile, static, and fragile. But those that deviate from their founding principles are destined for a much faster devolution, because most people just simply stop believing in them.
The competitive free market will cause new institutions to spring alive, bringing hope and aspiration anew to old principles, replacing the old institutions as they dry up and wither away. For me, I am of two minds: Stay loyal to the old institution until that is no longer possible, on principle, and then help found a new one, on principle.
Another great Historic Harrisburg Association home tour
We really enjoyed the 51st annual Historic Harrisburg Association home tour today. Spent most of our time in the beautiful Bellevue Park neighborhood, where my grandparents lived and where I spent many holiday walks with cousins and other family.
Beautiful homes, holiday cheer and spirit with lots of decorations, kind homeowners opening their private lives and house nooks to the public, old memories revisited and relationships renewed as I bumped into people unseen for the past year or decade.
Harrisburg has a very high quality of life and a very low cost of living, it is a small town with a big heart, and I have a big Thank You to the volunteers at Historic Harrisburg Association for assembling this special day. This home tour reminds me every year of how great this place is.
Every street corner in Bellevue Park has these Art Deco signs
The Princess of Patience chatting with old acquaintenances in the Bellevue Park Community Association building
Breezy Hill, the oldest house in Harrisburg’s Bellevue Park, circa 1867, and I believe the original farm estate home that Bellevue Park was built on in the 1920s-1940s
Homeowner Jared Dozier and his wife Hilary bought Breezy Hill in 2021, and have regularly made the local news every time they undertake some new major overhaul of the place
Bellevue Park maps have been made regularly since the 1930s, I think, with individual homeowner names listed
I sat in a corner of Jeffery’s living room while someone played wonderful live piano music. I did not want to leave. Jeffreysflowers.org
Ballistics Lesson #439
Today I learned a ballistics lesson that I have learned before, that everyone under the sun knows, but which I always seem to forget every few years. Maybe it is not forgetting, but curious wondering that gets the better of me. If you are interested in reading about an old man making a foolish mistake, read on.
So late this morning I set out to still hunt a large section of reverting, regenerating forest. It is brutal stuff – blackberry, briars, weeds of every sort, and jungle-thick growth of oak and popar saplings and whips, all anchored in downed tree tops and branches from a timber sale we did about twelve years ago. It is hell to hunt, and that is why this place is full of hiding deer. So, we go to where the deer are, and if we do it right, we can still-hunt our way into close range of a fat doe or a decent buck just rising out of his bed.
When I finally got there after a fifteen minute hike, the wind was howling, tree branches were falling, leaves were flying, and the couple inches of snow on the ground made it all perfect. And so I set out very slowly walking into the wind, taking a few steps, then stopping to look all around, watching not to step on any big sticks that would make a loud crack, and also moving quickly when the wind raged. My own movements and sounds were masked by the crazy roaring winds and falling tree debris from above.
After about ten minutes of slowly picking my way downhill and into the wind, I was looking at a nice juicy doe. Probably two years old and plump, she was just 25 yards away and looking around. She probably was getting brief whiffs of me, but in the blasting seesawing winds she was not able to get a read on where the scent was coming from. Too late for her, I raised the rifle and bang, watched her standing there, unfazed. A clear miss.
Levering another round into the chamber, I took more careful aim at her, now acutely aware of the chunky backpack strap on my shoulder that was making it difficult to correctly anchor the buttstock to my cheek. With her right shoulder clearly centered in the ghost ring, I pulled the trigger and again, watched as she just stood there, stock still and unable to detect where the strange sounds and smells were coming from.
As I jacked a third round in, she suddenly jumped up and took off running fast, downhill, her head pointed low and her tail tucked. She was obviously hit by the second shot, but usually the 325 grain 45-70 caliber bullets just absolutely smash critters at that close range. I know from my own experience. But this running after the smashing blow was a new one to me.
And so I took my time to catch up to her clear trail in the leaves and snow. I searched around on the ground and found the two spent brass shells ejected from the Marlin, shook off the snow, and put them in my left front pocket.
Initially, no blood was visible, but her feet were going in all directions as she staggered. She was hard hit and struggling. A hundred yards later, large smudges of blood and hair appeared on trees. Then blood on the snow. Another hundred yards and we were out of the more open forest regeneration and back into the thick jungle. Her clumsy hoof marks were easy to see, and here and there was blood. This animal was dying and did not know it. At every turn I expected to find her lying there, expired. So much indication of impending death, and yet so much resilience to live on.
The long and short of this tale is, I ended up tracking her for over an hour, which is an eternity. During this time I had bedded deer up and running in all directions, including a large buck. If you really want deer, the thick, nasty, gnarly places are where they are hiding. But I was after this one wounded doe, and I had no eyes for any others, including one that stood up almost in front of me. After quickly checking that she was not bleeding, I let her leave.
Doing a 360 degree circle around where her last blood sign was located, I determined that she was either dead or close to dying in a large tangle of old rotting tree tops covered in Japanese stiltgrass, burdock, mile-a-minute, bramble, and briar. Nasty, difficult, not a place for a man to easily or comfortably move in, I marked where she was and moved on to the afternoon sit a mile away. Tomorrow morning I will return and find her frozen body. Unless the coyotes get to her first, she will feed a hungry family here in Central PA.
After withstanding the afternoon’s buffeting winds and feeling colder than I have in years on the edge of the crop field, I finally gathered my kit, ducked out of my friend’s blind, and headed back to the truck. He later sent me a trail camera picture of the local deer herd walking out into the crop field literally one minute after I had exited the blind. They knew I was there and were just waiting for me to leave.
Back home I emptied my pockets onto the kitchen island, including the two empty 45-70 brass cases I had emptied at the doe. Picking them up to look at them, I noticed that one of them had the Hornady stamp, and the other bore the Star Line stamp. I use the factory 325 grain Hornady FTX bullets for bear and deer hunting (very successfully with both species), and I reload the Star Line with 325 grain brass solids, from Cutting Edge Bullets, for grizzly self defense in Alaska and for black bear hunting here in Pennsylvania. Especially on drives through the laurel. These brass solids will absolutely and unstoppably smash their way through a tough grizzly bear with its heavy bones and super tough muscles, but they will ziiiiip right through a whitetail deer.
And suddenly it dawned on me. I had first overshot and missed the doe with the Hornady FTX, and then literally drilled her body through-and-through with the brass solid second shot. I had jumbled up the two loads in my pockets, and when loading the rifle I had failed to put a second Hornady FTX round in the gun as the initial followup shot. Instead, I had a grizzly bear load as the followup shot, and as one might expect, the grizzly bear load did not kill the doe on the spot. Nope. That brass solid at 2100 feet per second just zipped cleanly through her entire body like a small laser beam. None of its energy was dumped into her by the bullet mushrooming, with massive terminal shock, as the FTX is designed to do.
And only then, when back at home, did I understand why the doe had reacted that way, how she took a few seconds to realize that something bad had happened to her, but that while fatal, it was not something that was going to kill her dead right there. She was only mostly dead from the brass solid. By now, as I write this, she is most assuredly frozen solid in that tangled hell that I will go back to tomorrow morning. Hopefully the coyotes will not have found her.
Had I used the correct expanding bullet, I would have had nothing to write about tonight. It would have been just another successful slow stalk through the thick ‘n nasty, with the rifle butt up at my shoulder, the hammer back, and me ready to jump shoot a deer.
Instead, I had to re-learn a rudimentary ballistics lesson, which is if you want to kill thin skinned game, use expanding bullets that transfer all of their energy into the prey animal’s body. If you shoot a high velocity scalpel at the prey animal, it will cleanly and surgically cut it, even make neat clean holes through bones, but that wound might not bleed much and the animal might not know it is supposed to be dead until it has run a long distance away from the man with the gun, and into impossible cover.
Sign like this, blood smear and hair at deer chest height, says this is a dead deer running.
A 325 grain solid brass Cutting Edge Bullets 45-70 load I make for grizzly in Alaska is a terrible backup load for whitetail deer
A Tale of Two Different Approaches to Life, Government
We are witnessing a growing storm right now. Of historic, unprecedented proportion. Something out of a fantastical Hollywood CGI movie is taking shape in front of our eyes. Except this is no fake fantasy, it is the harshest of realities about to descend on all of us. God willing, and for good reason.
What started out as small dark clouds in 2016 has morphed into an enormous, growing boiling cloud mass with lightning shooting out of it, ominous rumblings became peals of sharp thunder. Pick your Armageddon or end-of-the-world SciFi movie, America and the entire planet are entering a new state of being, and this huge ever-growing storm of apocalyptic size and appearance is coming with it.
A Biblical parallel would be the Exodus story, where God’s holy Angel of Death went house to house, inflicting destruction, except on those pure souls who were favored. Or, America is about to witness a Noah-like flood that is going to wipe away all of the sinful grotesquery and leave a cleansed albeit forlorn and changed landscape behind, where green things can grow again in a purified world.
We are seeing the difference between two different ways of looking at life and government play out. And this Biblical clash of good vs. evil is about to get ugly, and disruptive. And beautiful. Change is constant, necessary, painful, and beautiful.
On the one hand is the Uniparty-Media establishment complex, with its ever expanding bloated, unaccountable, lawless, change-resistant, all-powerful federal bureaucracies. This huge, unholy carnivorous plant has been watered with the hard-earned tax money of the American people (taken at gunpoint) for about a hundred years, ever since progressive (Communist) president Woodrow Wilson began inflicting his vision for Big Government and Little Citizen on America.
Relying on the once-inspiring frontier mentality that America was always going to grow, expand, reach ever greater heights of achievement, progressives (statist communists, now Democrats) and their Uniparty GOP allies siphoned off ever larger amounts of American private sector achievement to fund their socialist horror experiment. And with everything on the line, they illegally manipulated voting machines and voting laws and looked the other way to steal the 2020 election, so they could cement their Uniparty rule over all of us once and for all.
And so here we are, about a hundred years after this slow growing cancerous fungus first took hold, and the American people are beholding this evil thing that was just about to take over our lives, eat us all up, and continue growing. Americans were slated to become permanent slaves to the Uniparty bureaucracy and its unelected functionaries who have been holding ever increasing power over our individual fates. And the American people said NO.
In response to the evil Uniparty bureaucracy, the American people just re-re-elected someone who believes in and is willing to fight fight fight at any cost for the original founding vision of America: A place of freedom and limitless opportunity for all of its citizens.
A place where the government exists to serve the citizens, not the other way around.
The coming shock as these two worlds collide is going to be cataclysmic. Yes, proponents of freedom and liberty are going to get the great cleansing they are hoping for, that America desperately needs. But do not kid yourself that the resulting fallout is going to be beautiful, or easy. No, it will be shocking to America’s core. We need this, but it will not be easy.
As the three readers of this blog already know, your dutiful author here is devoted to freedom and liberty at all costs, inlcuding the freewill donation of his own blood and life, need be. Minuteman at the ready, absolutely. Freedom from tyranny may be achieved, but it always comes at a cost, a true and measurable cost. And we are about to witness it, as the evil towers of Mordor come crumbling to the ground in a great shock. Hopefully without bloodshed.
What comes afterwards will be a weird quiet. The sound of one hand clapping, maybe. A thin, still blast of the shofar, heard at Sinai when the Law was given.
For those who are confused by this essay, take note of just one of dozens of such current policy situations: outgoing dementia-ridden White House resident Joe Biden has just signed a new contract with about 42,000 unionized federal workers, obligating the federal government to granting certain lush work conditions with these employees. Done as a business-as-usual end-run around the incoming storm, it ignores the catastrophic blast about to hit Washington, DC.
To wit: Every federal worker serves at the choice of the Chief Executive, who is The President. So all of these 42,000 federal workers can be immediately furloughed, their new gravy train contract rendered moot, and the incoming storm’s ongoing clean sweep will continue unabated. End of business-as-usual.
One man’s wreckage is another man’s treasure, I suppose. I am looking forward to picking over the smoking battlefield when this is over. But I bet I will find some distant kinfolk lying there, too. Painful price to pay, but necessary.
Joe Biden is a criminal liar and a thief
Joe Biden’s bribery schemes with China and Ukraine are epic. The biggest criminal endeavor in a public office in American history. A huge scandal.
That Joe Biden used his corrupt pedophile son Hunter Biden to do a lot of his dirty work is well documented. That Hunter Biden had already done enough criminal activity on his own with drugs, guns, tax evasion, underage sex trafficking, and other felonies is a testament to just how bad these guys are. Really, really bad people.
For two years Joe Biden lied to the American people, telling us emphatically that he would let the justice system play out with his son Hunter Biden’s many legal entanglements. And then suddenly, today, Joe Biden issued a broad pardon for his son going from 2014 to 2024 and including any crimes he might have done and has not yet been charged with. In other words, Hunter Biden has a thirty-day Get-Out-Of-Jail-Free card.
One of the reasons I despise partisan politics is how being loyal to a broken brand makes people say ridiculous things. And so today we got a parade of Democrat Party loyalists pooh-poohing the pardon, trying to explain that all the lies that Joe Biden told us were not really lies, etc. Some people, notably Hollywood actor types, actually celebrated this historic pardon, as if it looks good for a corrupt father president to pardon his corrupt son for so many crimes over such a long period of time.
This pardon is in effect a confession of criminality. I just wish that all of the politically devoted partisans would try to hold onto a shred of integrity and at least be honest about this: It smells bad.
Why do people trespass on private property?
During one of his many temporary incarcerations, infamous bank robber John Dillinger was asked by a news reporter why he robbed banks, and he famously quipped “Because that’s where the money is.” Funny enough, true enough, but Dillinger eventually ended up being shot to death by both civilians and a ragtag assortment of law enforcement agents who were fed up with his lawlessness.
I have been similarly wondering: Do people, particularly hunters, trespass on private property because that is where the wild game is? Or is there some other reason that turns otherwise normal people into lawless jerks who instigate their victims into acts of violent retaliatory fury?
My observation and experience is hunters, in particular, trespass on posted private land, and end up poaching wildlife there, because they are drawn to the mystery and promise of new territory. They think that a plot of private land that is carefully cultivated wildlife habitat must have some really nice, abundant, maybe even trophy wildlife on it. And sometimes these outlaws do, in fact, stumble into a kind of bank vault of wildlife, where they feel like they have hit the jackpot.
The problem with trespassing on posted private hunting land is that someone else, the landowner or a club that leases from the owner, has probably spent a lot of time and resources maintaining that land. Paying the real estate taxes on it, managing it, making it a sanctuary or haven for wildlife. All year long that landowner runs chainsaws, plants and prunes fruit trees, sprays herbicides, clears trails, plants various crops like clover that most wildlife find attractive.
These considerable efforts are done for the benefit of the landowner, his family, his friends, or for the club members who pay him for the opportunity to exclusively hunt there, in a very brief window of time. Hunting seasons are usually just a few weeks long. This investment of time and money is like any other investment, say, a savings account at your local bank. Or your retirement pension.
Trespassing and poaching are not victimless crimes. A landowner’s entire year’s work can go out the window from it.
Trespassers enter into the private property and, purposefully or by mistake, disturb the wildlife, maybe scare it away and off the property; poachers kill the wildlife. These disruptions come at a great cost to the landowner, who for 50 prior weeks has been working hard, husbanding the land’s natural resources, and suddenly finds himself at a disadvantage when he should be reaping his just reward.
Someone else has come along and taken advantage of all his hard work and investment, someone else has claimed his reward that he was looking forward to. Most often, the trespass intrusion and poaching so greatly disturb the property’s carefully arranged balance, that the landowner gets little to nothing of what he had worked so hard to attain. And hunting seasons are so brief that there is no time to wait out the disturbance.
This is exactly how both trespassing and poaching are forms of theft. Thievery. Scumbag-ness. Dirtball-ness. A-hole-ness. And when someone has stolen something from the landowner, the landowner can get angry about it. Sometimes really, really angry. Especially if the thief acts like the whole thing is no big deal. Because it is a really big deal to screw a landowner over and steal away from him his hard work and promise of success.
Confession time: I have been a scary person when encountering trespassers and poachers (scary to them and often to me). Not long ago a warden asked me to consider becoming a deputy warden, and I responded that I could not do that, because I get so angry at trespassers and game thieves that it would be unbecoming to see someone in an official uniform lose their cool. Yes, I have had people charged in court, but often my hand tightly around someone’s shirt collar while they get roughly dragged off the property is enough to convince trespassers that other venues hold more promise and less danger. I don’t know if many other landowners operate this way, but I am super old school. A facility with firearms and knowledge of the law also helps build confidence when dealing with armed trespassers and poachers.
As one state trooper said to a trespasser I had roughly collared, “Yes, Josh is armed. But YOU are armed, too. Is he supposed to let you shoot him so you can make your getaway? Here is your citation, do not come back here.”
Some people trespass because they are looking for things to steal, including rare plants or animals, or to drive off wild game they don’t want the landowner to get. Others trespass so they can poach wildlife through illegal hunting. Others may simply get a jolt of excitment, or are simply curious.
Folks, trespassing and poaching are a really big deal. Some landowners make a significant income from leasing their hunting land, and poachers undermine that investment. Some landowners treasure their privacy, and seeing an armed thief skulking around their property makes them feel directly threatened. So don’t do it. Don’t think it is no big deal to slip past the No Trespassing purple paint or sign and “just take my gun for a walk” or take a Sunday drive up that posted driveway.
That walk that comes so casually to you, the trespasser, comes at someone else’s expense, even if you do not see it right then. And it could end up costing you everything. No wild game animal is worth getting in trouble over, and certainly not losing your life or mobility for.
The answer to the temptation to trespass on private land is to listen to that little voice in the back of your mind warning you not to take the chance. Go to public lands for your hunting and fishing adventures. Here in Pennsylvania, public lands are super abundant. If you don’t like sharing public lands with the general public, why then, go buy yourself a piece of land and make it your very own wildlife sanctuary.
Had the once popular John Dillinger stopped robbing banks when he made that cute quip of his, he could have easily slipped away into anonymity and comfortable living, or even into celebrity and wealthy living as a free man. But he pushed it too far, and paid the ultimate price. Like too many thieves pay every day….Guys, don’t trespass and don’t poach.
And yes, baiting is a form of poaching and wild game theft. Don’t do it.
********
UPDATE December 2, 2024: Today I was sitting on a remote hillside in Northcentral Pennsylvania, with a rifle across my knees, overlooking private land surrounded by about two million acres of public land, enjoying the snow-covered serenity. Suddenly, loud voices approaching from behind grabbed my attention. Through a normally silent piece of state forest emerged four young men, in hunter orange and preparing to drive off the piece of private land.
Looking at the leader, who was giving specific directions about how to spread out and push the deer off the private land, I turned to face all of them and asked “Did we grant you permission to hunt here?”
“I mean, we have a bunch of people down in there right now, deer hunting, and they don’t expect to have anyone walking through.”
The curse-word filled abuse heaped on me caught me off guard. Me, easily the age of the fathers of these four young men, very much their elder and merely a private landowner asking an elementary question that any landowner would ask of uninvited guests, was now the bad guy.
“Eff you” Eff this” “Eff him” “Eff that” were the nicer things said to me as the young men checked that the boundary was clearly marked and backed up and regrouped.
I do not know or understand who raises such poorly behaved and aggressive young men, but for those who are inclined to ascribe poor behavior only to people with dark skin, I am here to tell you these were four white guys. Out in the middle of the big nowhere, armed with rifles, and acting like a criminal gang. With all their anger, I wondered if one of them was going to shoot me in the back.
They had already loudly walked a half mile from their remote parking spot (that itself is a long and arduous drive to reach) through laurel-choked oak woods that normally is full of deer, as the abundant deer tracks in the deep snow attested to. What if these four “hunters” had done a silent deer drive from their vehicle out to the private land they intended to sneak on? They might have already bagged a deer. Instead, they talked so loudly, so boisterously, for so long, that I thought they much have been forest workers. Never in my life have I heard hunters this loud in the woods.
Their behavior makes no sense, unless their goal was simply to spoil the posted private land that they already know is off-limits and that they were jealous of and wanted to ruin for hunting by anyone else….
Good luck, deer hunters
Practically a religious holiday event, Pennsylvania rifle season for deer starts tomorrow morning, and I want to wish everyone who participates a hearty Good Luck. Up north, where poor to no acorn crops this Fall seemed to be widespread, finding deer is probably going to be more difficult than usual.
All the reports I heard from bear hunters across the northcentral region here is that acorns were nonexistant. But deer are spread all over the state, and they are doing better than just OK in places with farm fields and suburban lawns. If you just want to kill a fat buck with a nice set of antlers, you should go sit on my buddy Mark’s porch in Camp Hill/ Mechanicsburg. I am sure you can easily nail one of the stud bucks that casually lay about and wander around Mark’s yard every day, with a crossbow. Mark is not alone, as anyone who lives up on Blue Mountain north of Harrisburg will tell you. Deer are everywhere in these urban/surburban places.
Pennsylvanians traditionally like to hunt in the Big Woods because it is, well, big and woodsy, and quiet, serene, magical, inspiring. Wilder places have always been where religions start, where the voice of God is easiest to hear. People are drawn to the mountains to hunt, not just to hunt, but to hunt surrounded by beauty. This is where I like to hunt. Add to that a mix of beautiful antique and black powder firearms, and life is just fiiiine, even if a skunk is all I encounter.
This year, I suspect our deer hunters up north are going to get a lot more beauty and less deer. Hope I am wrong. Fortunate am I that I am easily amused by fondling blued steel and aged walnut while sitting on my can in the cold.
Good luck, shoot straight, and have a fun, safe hunt, everyone.
This miraculous Thanksgiving, break the binary
Today is Thanksgiving in America, our uniquely American holiday based on the Puritans’ survival experience with Native Indians on the Atlantic coast roughly 400 years ago. While it has sadly become a holiday of cheap mattress sales, the fact is that most Americans still understand what a uniquely bountiful land of opportunity America is, and they give thanks to our Creator for it.
In 2024, we also give thanks today for a truly miraculous peaceful victory over bipartisan forces of darkness and evil in our recent national election. No matter that every official lever of power, corporate finance, media marketing, and cultural curatorship was pushed or pulled against Donald Trump, he nonetheless prevailed with a majority of the national vote as well as the Electoral College (folks, without the Electoral College there would be no UNITED States, because individual states in rural flyover country would have no incentive to unite with the more populous coastal enclaves).
And his opponent burned through more than a BILLION dollars of campaign funds, to no avail. Truly a miraculous election result…
Through our recent election, official power is being removed from the corrupt, violent hands of the impure and given into the hands of our peaceful citizens, the rightful owners of all things government, as was originally intended in 1776. This miraculous result is on a scale of only a few moments in history, where the good guys won against overwhelming odds, and which then resulted in good values being transmitted through the following generations, resulting in the free America we now enjoy and love.
The 479 BCE united Greek final stand against the invading Persians at Plataea is one such moment, and the orthodox Jews’ 175 BCE successful stand against the Seleucid Greeks and their “leftist” assimilated Hellenic Jewish allies is another, a long fought guerilla war commemmorated as Hanuka.
After Plataea, forms of democracy, free thought, and individual representation in government (the “Greek ideal”) became more broadly accepted. When the Maccabees defeated the hedonist Hellenist Jews and pagan Greeks in Israel and Jerusalem, Torah Judaism prevailed and survived, giving the world the widespread monotheism it now relies upon for the rule of law and individual rights we all take for granted.
A good case can be made that this month’s election resulted in a similar scale defeat of evil. Yes, this election was not about the next four years, but rather about the next 250 years of America as a constitutional and free nation. We were that close to losing everything.
However, we cannot get too caught up in the battle lines as they were drawn up on November 5th, 2024. We must break the Republican-Democrat binary that is really a corrupt Uniparty united against We, The People.
Yes, the Republican Party has some elected officials who stand for freedom and liberty, and no, I cannot think of one single elected Democrat who stands for freedom and liberty. But that only means that the majority of elected Republicans and all of the elected Democrats are united against pro-citizen freedom fighter Donald Trump.
Trump is our champion, a representative of and champion for all American citizens. He is the modern incarnation of our first president, George Washington. We must stay focused on him and active in implementing his agenda.
When President Trump is gone, it is hard to know who will again so fully pick up the mantle of We, The People. So it is incumbent upon us today to really give thanks for this reprieve we have all miraculously enjoyed, and to work hard these next two years to ensure that our freedoms and our government of, by, and for The People, are fully conveyed to the next generations of Americans.
Give no power to political parties, give no longevity to career officials, but give aggressive support only to those few who actually represent us. Give thanks that we have this one opportunity for the restoration of good and proper government, right now, for many generations to come.
Biblically bare bear woods
Today was an unnerving jolt to the hunter-conservationist-observationist, slipping through the bear woods of Northcentral Pennsylvania in search of a large black bear boar: We encountered silence.
Silence as in no or few shots heard, until lunch time, when it sounded like fellow bear hunters returned to their respective camps to eat and decided to at least sight in their hunting rifle again for this weekend deer season opener.
Hunting-related shots in what used to be Bear Central were very few. And add to that absence the absolute silence of the woods itself, and the hunting experience is spooky.
Nothing is alive in these woods. Maybe a dicky bird here or there, but nothing of note to hunters and wildlife watchers. No deer, no turkeys, no squirrels or chipmunks, and no bears. Just silence, as if a giant vacuum has sucked up all the living beings normally in these woods and taken them away.
What seems to be the problem is our third year of no acorns. Acorns are usually abundant in our oak forests here, and acorns are the foundation upon which all wildlife exists here. But three years ago we had a drought in the late spring, which killed the oak flowers that normally become acorns. Then two years ago a late frost killed oak flowers across a wide swath of Northcentral PA. Then this past spring the gypsy moths ate everything in our oak forests, especially the tender oak flowers that accompanied the gypsy moth caterpillar hatch.
Thus, we are now in a Biblical level wildlife famine in a lot of Northcentral PA. And as a result, hunters in these dead zones are getting skunked beyond not just having an opportunity to take a trophy game animal. We are also being denied the greatest reason to hunt of all: Participating directly in the great and beautiful, magical cycle of Nature. Hunters don’t always have to kill to have a successful day afield. Rather, most of us get juiced just from sitting quietly in peaceful wild places and observing wildlife that humans otherwise rarely or never get to see. For a lot of hunters, the forest cathedral is our best and most special, rewarding, and spiritual place of worship. Especially on remote mountaintops. Tough one this year, though.
Tomorrow our “gang” is going to do a bear drive on another nearby patch of State Forest land where we have been told there are some oaks that produced acorns this Fall. Whether the acorns are a result of DCNR spraying bt on the gypsy moths, or from some local environmental factor, no one knows. What we do know is that we will at least have a higher chance at success than in our usual hunting grounds, which in good times produces many bears for hard working hunters.
As we do just a few days a year, a disparate group of men will again tomorrow band together in joint effort to participate in the oldest of human experiences, the hunt on foot. Win or lose, we still enjoy each other’s company. But we also need to know we have a fighting chance of at least encountering the charismatic wildlife of our healthy woods.
We hope for acorns.
Will Pam Bondi cut it as AG?
Earlier today, former congressman Matt Gaetz stepped down as nominee for US Attorney General. The ridiculous scandal created around him drove him out. Within about six hours, President Trump announced that former Florida AG Pam Bondi was the next up nominee. And I do not have a good feeling about this selection.
Here is why: If you are trying to re-enter enemy territory and bring law and order to the Biden DOJ chaos, you are best served by having someone who is aggrieved. Someone like Kash Patel, who served in the Pentagon and as Rep. Devin Nunes’ chief of staff and investigator into the DOJ’s fake Russia Hoax scandal aimed at Trump. You are best served by someone who knows where the skeletons are buried and where the bad guys are hiding, and who is personally invested in fixing it.
Pam Bondi could easily be another Amy Coney Barrett, a moderate sheep sold in conservative clothing, who promised to act like a sheriff, but who ended up being a spineless liberal do-nothing on the Supreme Court. Justice Brett Kavanaugh also turned out to be a cute soccer mom, more interested in DC elbow rubbing than in implementing constitutionally sound legal decisions. America cannot survive with more of this kind of weak personality in leadership positions. The rot is too deep and too broad, and only the very meanest, toughest crime fighters will succeed in righting the listing ship.
My fear is that Pam Bondi will not want to rock the boat by making aggressive moves on big name crime figures, like Alejandro Mayorkas and Merrick Garland. Rather, she is likely to go after the second tier personalities, and only a few at that. People like Andrew McCabe and Rod Rosenstein, maybe Jim Comey or Chris Wray. My fear is that she she will have a few big dog and pony circus show cases, and puff out her chest and strut around like she has done something. Letting all the myriad bad guys off the hook.
What DC and America need is a Batman, a caped crusader, someone so personally angry and hurt by the last eight years of cruel, lawless injustice, that he will stop at nothing to bring everyone to justice. That means the Merrick Garlands and the junior DOJ prosecutors too, everyone who all engaged in criminal prosecutorial misconduct. And whomever is responsible for the professional murder of Jeffrey Epstein inside a jail cell. And whoever left the fake bombs outside the DNC and RNC on January 6th. And and and….
Doors have to be kicked in at 4AM, tons of bad guys have to be trotted out cuffed in their underwear, and as much prosecution as can be dreamt up must be dumped on every. single. one. of these bad people who have wrecked America over the past eight years.
Pam Bondi. Someone this pretty probably isn’t going to be as tough as America needs. Photo credit CNN
Maybe I will be pleasantly surprised, but I doubt it. If nothing else, one hopes that President Trump has explained to Pam Bondi what his exact expectations are, and what the short timeline looks like for her implementation. We cannot have another Jeff Sessions or Bill Barr situation, where people who are entrusted with everything do absolutely nothing. And we also cannot have another situation where the AG does something, but not everything that must be done.
Batman, where are you?
America needs a caped crusader US Attorney General to bring tough justice to Washington DC criminals. Credit DC Comics (ironically)