Incarnations

The greatest avalanche begins with the slightest movement of the smallest pebble.

The replacement designated JOY UNIT 61-182-21 was deliberately entering a state of deep trouble by disobeying the orders of her guardian.

On the first night of the flight out from Earth she had been directed by her guardian to remain in the luxury suite aboard the liner Freyaspace Reliable for the duration of the voyage and to remain naked except the gold bands of her status around her neck, wrists, and ankles.

At the first opportunity she consciously chose to not obey the order.

The chief bodyguard of the guardian, a Xenophonian mercenary had gone to sleep.  This was contrary to the orders given by his employer.  He was to keep watch on the joy unit and prevent her from leaving the suite.  She took this moment of slackness as an opportunity to escape.  She found and donned her pea green colored transfer suit.  She wore the suit during the transfer from the home of her guardian in the newly rebuilt city of Chicago to his suite aboard the liner in Earth orbit and it was all she had to wear at this time.  To be safe she put on the full head cover, which kept her hair in place during free fall conditions and only showed her face.

She checked her makeup before leaving the suite.  It appeared to be modestly applied.  Or that it would appear to be insufficiently applied by the standards of her trainers and her guardian.

She silently opened the door to the suite.  She slowly emerged from the suite and saw no one in the corridor of the luxury deck on the liner.  She then closed the door with a gentle click.  She started to move slowly down the corridor.  She felt slight more than one tenth the force of gravity she’d felt on Earth.  If her recollection was correct, the sick bay she saw on the safety tour of the liner that was required of all the passengers should be two decks down on the vertically oriented ship.

Perhaps someone on staff could help her there.  All she had to do now was to find the stairs down.

As she gained confidence in moving down the corridor a cabin door opened ahead of her.

She stopped. She was now afraid.

A young man stepped out of the suite.  Like her he had blond hair and blue eyes, but without the high class nose she was designed with.  He was dressed correctly for dinner, in all black, but with an emphasis on practical comfort over flash in style.  His hair was slightly longer than the military standard, parted on the left, and cut for comfort instead of the current fashionable youth style.   And he stood in the corridor not as if he were an inexperienced youth but as a very experienced man.

He didn’t fit in any category of persons she was programmed to identify.  And he appeared to be only four years older than her.

The young man looked at her and spoke.

“Hello.”  He said to her with an upper Midwest American accent.  Specifically from Old Minnesota on Earth.  With the one word she perceived that his voice was not of an inexperienced youth of eighteen years but clearly that of a fully mature and experienced adult.

She was speechless.

“Is there a problem, Miss?”  He said.

He slowly stepped toward her.  He walked as if he were completely familiar with moving in the slightly more than one tenth internal gravity of the accelerating ship.

She hesitated to answer.

“No.”  She replied.

The young man stopped.  He looked straight at her eyes and spoke again.

“You have a problem,” he said, “and you wish to solve it yourself?”

She thought for a moment, and then answered.

“Yes,” she said, “I need to go to the sick bay.”

He nodded, and then replied.

“Okay,” he said, “if you’d follow me, please.”

She hesitated, and then spoke again.

“I don’t mean to trouble you.”

The young man quickly responded.

“It’s no trouble at all,” he said, “I own the ship.”

He then looked at her head cover, and spoke again.

“And we’re under acceleration,” he said, “so you don’t need to wear that awful head cover.”

He stood still, as if he were waiting for her to take it off.  As he was the owner of the ship he would come to know her true status immediately.  There was no point in continuing to wear the cover.

She opened the front under the chin and lifted the cover off of her head.  The gold status band on her neck became visible.

He saw the band on her neck, and then spoke.

“You’re a joy unit?”

“Yes.”  She replied.  “How did you know?”

“You’re wearing the gold slave collar and you’ve more makeup on you than a Hennepin Avenue hooker.”

She had no idea what a Hennepin Avenue hooker was.  She pointed to the collar and replied defensively.

“It’s a status band.”

He briefly shook his head and then spoke.

“Status band is a polite euphemism for a slave collar.  But then the word replacement in present Terran society is a polite euphemism for a slave.  And the word guardian is a polite euphemism for a slave owner.”

His voice then took on a hard edge.

“Which in a real society is a polite euphemism for a piece of subhuman garbage fit only for extermination. But that’s only my opinion.”

The young man asked another question.

“Does the collar have a monomolecular filament for cutting off the head by remote control?”

“Yes.”  She replied.

She remembered when an older and used up joy unit which had been returned to the manufacturer had been brought in to demonstrate the function of the termination system to the newly hatched units.  The creche supervisor pressed the button, and head, hands, and feet of the demonstration unit were suddenly severed by the single molecule thread in each band as they each shrunk to a single point of matter.  Blood sprayed out from the neck, wrists, and ankles of the used up unit.

All of the newly hatched joy units in the room, including her, screamed and cried at the sight of the demonstration of the device.  She remembered the event as though it happened yesterday.

The young man nodded.  And then he spoke.

“We do have the tools for removing it down in the sick bay, let’s go down there.”  He said.   “Now.”

As both of them walked down the corridor he asked her a question.

“Were you ever given a proper name?”

“No.” She replied.

“People have proper names.”  He said. “You’re a person.  That’s another thing we’ll have to work on.”

As they made their way to the stairs a cabin door opened behind them.  The chief bodyguard stepped out into the corridor.  He saw the young man and the young woman and shouted.

“YOU!  STOP!”

The mercenary began to run down the corridor.  But he lacked experience in moving in a low gravity environment and with his first step arced upwards into the ceiling.

“Idiot.”  Said the young man.

As the mercenary slowly dropped back to the deck the young man drew a mass driver pistol from a holster under the left shoulder and carefully stepped forward to the point of the mercenary’s impact.  He solidly locked the sights of his pistol on the mercenary’s head as he carefully stepped forward.

The young man shouted at the mercenary with the voice of military experience and authority.

“STAY DOWN! REMAIN ON THE DECK!”

The mercenary looked up to see what appeared to be a toy pistol aimed directly at his head.  It appeared to be a single unit in dark gray plastic without a separate slide and frame, or an ejection port for the expended cartridge.  The bore of the pistol appeared to be smaller than the bore of a standard training weapon.  And the authority of the young man’s voice mattered not at all to the mercenary.  What did matter was that the voice that carried the accent of a citizen of the planet Freya, the mortal enemies of what remained of the Xenophonian people.  He wasn’t about to surrender to what his own eyes obviously saw as a young punk with a toy pistol from Freya.

The mercenary pushed himself off the deck.  The young man pulled the trigger of the driver pistol. The four millimeter projectile, made of depleted uranium with a stainless steel jacket, made only a supersonic crack in the air before it struck the mercenary in the center of the forehead, tumbled within his braincase, and sprayed his blood and brain matter out from the back of his head.  The remains of the mercenary dropped to the deck.

An alarm automatically sounded throughout the ship. And a telephone rang in the young man’s coat pocket.

He pulled it out and answered.

“Yes, Captain.”  He said.  “There’s been a deadly force incident on passenger deck one with one man down.  He’s dead. Send up the clean up crew.  And please have the thread cutter kit in sick bay ready to go.  I’m bringing the patient down right now.”

The young man pocketed the phone returned his weapon to the holster.

“Let’s go.”  He said.

As the young woman and the young man went down two flights of stairs she asked him a question.

“That was a Xenophonian warrior, how could ... how could you kill him?”

He thought for a moment, and then answered.

“The Xenophon Mercenary Corporation, what’s left of them, are nothing more than a band of thugs with the delusion of superhuman superiority.”  He said.  “Shooting them is neither an ethical or a technical problem at all.”

She accepted the answer.

The sick bay was on a crew quarters deck.  There were three women in hospital scrubs and white lab coats already waiting for them there.

The young man introduced them.

“Miss, this is the ship’s doctor, Doctor Hart, her assistant Nurse Church, and my personal physician, Doctor Adams.”

He then turns to speak to the medical staff.

“This young lady was a sex slave brought aboard by a moron from Earth.  We need to cut off the collar and the other bands.”

All three of the women nodded. And then Doctor Adams spoke.

“Evelyn, you need to step back.”

“Right.”  He replied as he complied with his own doctor’s request.

Doctor Adams closed the curtain around the examination table.  Evelyn listened as the staff helped the young lady out of her transfer suit and into a hospital gown.

When they were finished Doctor Adams opened the curtain.

The young woman was sitting on the examination table. Doctor Hart placed the cutting device on the neck band under the right ear.

“Are you ready?” She said to the young woman.

The young woman was shaking.  She was clearly in a state of fear when she replied.

“They ... they ... terminated an old unit ... at the facility ... with all five bands ... there was blood everywhere.”

Evelyn responded with a question.

“They murdered a woman to demonstrate the system?”

“Yes.”  She replied.

Evelyn nodded and then asked another question.

“You are afraid that the other bands will function when we cut the neck band?”

“Yes.” She said.

“Well,” said Evelyn, “the worst thing that could happen to you now if that happens is that we’ll put your hands and feet into deep freeze and place you in hibernation and then surgically reattach everything when we return to Freya.”

The young woman stopped shaking.

“It will hurt like Hell, but you’ll live.”  He said.

The young woman nodded.

Doctor Hart spoke.

“Are you ready?”

The young woman replied.

“Yes.”

Doctor Hart nodded and then pressed down on cutting device.  The device made a loud click sound and the collar fell away to her shoulders. The other bands didn’t react.  There was no blood spraying all over the sick bay.

“Well then,” said Evelyn, “monomolecular threads are damned expensive.”

As Doctor Hart was positioning the cutter on the right wrist Nurse Church spoke up.

“This person will need a name.”  She said.  “We can’t keep on addressing her as ‘hey you.’”

“Of course.”  Evelyn replied.

The cutter clicked again.  The wrist band fell away.  A tattoo on the inner side of the right wrist was now in full view.  The tattoo was of a corporate logo and the characters, “JOYUNIT 61-182-21.”

Evelyn recognized the logo.  He spoke to the young lady.

“It appears that you’re a product of the Grande-Sinjoro Corporation.”  He said.  “I should send a nice present to one of their future board meetings.”

“A present?”  Said the young lady.

“What did you have in mind?”  Asked Doctor Adams.

“A ten kiloton suitcase nuke.”  He replied.

Doctor Hart cut off the band on the left wrist.

“I thought ours were rated at twenty kilotons?”  She said.

“Whatever.”  Said Evelyn.  “As long as it works.”

The young woman spoke up.

“What’s a suitcase nuke?”

Evelyn answered.

“It’s a very efficient and a very concealable way to kill a lot of very bad people.”

Doctor Hart had finished positioning the cutter on the left ankle when she spoke.

“The patient does need a proper name.” She said. “‘Jane Doe’ isn’t going to cut it.”

“Jane Doe?”  Said the young woman.

Evelyn answered.

“The police would traditionally use that name in their documents for a female victim whose name wasn’t known to them.”

Doctor Hart cut off the left ankle band.

Doctor Adams spoke to the young woman.

“You do strongly resemble Princess Diana.”

“Who?”  Said the young woman.

Evelyn answered.

“Diana Spencer, she was born a bit over three centuries ago.  She was named after a pagan goddess of the hunt.  She was a naive young lady who was used by the British royal family as a walking womb and then dumped.  After the divorce she was killed in a completely senseless ground traffic accident.  I never met her during my first incarnation. And I was already on Mars when her sole surviving son was elected to be the second President of the Federation.”

Nurse Church spoke up.

“Someone may have saved a copy of her genome on file.”

Evelyn replied.

“Or, given the state of ethical degeneration I’ve seen on Earth, it’s possible that a walking piece of garbage may have desecrated her grave to obtain a DNA sample.”

Doctor Hart then cut off the band on the right ankle.

“There.”  She said.  “We’re finished.”

The young woman stood up.  Free at last.

She thought for a moment.  And then spoke.

“I like the name, Diana.”

Everyone nodded.  Evelyn replied.

“Well then, your name is Diana, you now have a proper name.”

Evelyn’s phone rang in the coat pocket.

“Just a moment.”  He said.  “I need to answer this.”

Evelyn stepped away from the table to answer the phone.

“Yes.”  He said.

The voice on the line was the captain of the ship, Deborah Hausa.

“Sir, we have a hostage situation in the main dining room.”

“I’ll be right down.”  He replied.

“Yes, sir.” Said Captain Hausa.

He turned to the ladies in the sick bay and spoke.

“We have another emergency. Someone is being really stupid.  I’ll be right back.”

The main dining room was two decks down.

Diana asked a question.

“What did he mean when he said someone is being really stupid?”

Doctor Adams answered.

“With Evelyn it means that whoever caused the problem is already dead.”

Diana had another question.

“And he said something about having a first incarnation?”

Doctor Adams answered.

“The original version of Evelyn Alexander Charon spent most of the last two centuries in cryogenic stasis.  A bit over eight standard years ago we cloned him.  We then thawed out the original person and copied his mind and memories into the new body.  We call it reincarnation by technological means.  It’s similar to the process by which you were created, but used in an ethically proper fashion.”

Diana had another question.

“What happened to the original Evelyn Alexander Charon?”

Doctor Adams smiled.

“He’s undergoing a current state of the art aging control treatment.”  She said. “ And unlike his duplicate he’s being a complete grouch about it.”

“May I ask one more question?”  Said Diana.

“Yes.” Said Doctor Adams.

“Does Evelyn always come to someone’s rescue?”

Doctor Adams answered directly.

“When he was growing up in his first incarnation he usually played a paladin in Dungeons And Dragons.”

“What’s Dungeons And Dragons?”  Diana asked.

On the dining room deck the second incarnation of Evelyn Alexander Charon met Captain Hausa in the corridor outside the dining room.

Captain Deborah Hausa was in her midforties in age and statuesque in build and one of the rare Freyans who was directly descended from a native African, her paternal grandfather.

“Situation?”  He said.

Captain Hausa looked at the notepad she was holding.

“Douglas Wolfe, the idiot who brought the sex toy aboard and his three remaining guards have taken three hostages with table knives in the dining room.”  She replied.  “We evacuated the remaining passengers to the corridor.”

Charon looked up and down the corridor.  Formally dressed passengers were seated on the deck or leaning with their backs against the walls.

“Any demands yet?”  He said.

“He wants his sex toy returned.”  Said Captain Hausa.  “And he wants to be returned to Earth.”

“Out of the question.”  He replied.

Captain Hausa nodded in agreement.

“Yes.”  She said.

One of the formally dressed passengers, seated on the deck, shouted to Hausa and Charon.

“Just give him what he wants!”  The elderly man said.

Evelyn Charon decided to point his right finger and reply to the old man with the full voice of authority.

“One more word and you won’t receive the standard refund for being a victim in a terrorist action!”

The old man was silenced.

Charon resumed his discussion with Captain Hausa.

“Let’s get the passengers back to their staterooms for now.”

“Yes, sir.”  Captain Hausa replied.

She gave to necessary orders to the staff on deck.

“Is there anything else I need to know about this group?”

“Yes, sir,” said Captain Hausa, “the three bodyguards are from the planet Hope.”

“And they’re guarding a slave owner?”

“Yes, sir.” She replied.

Hope, a world orbiting Procyon, was one of the first worlds outside the Solar System to be colonized. African-Americans, who generally didn’t fit into the main stream of Federation society, especially in North America, were very strongly encouraged to settle there.

“What we have here is a very serious belief check failure.”

“Sir,” said Captain Hausa, “they translated Mein Kampf into their primary dialect.”

“And the damned thing was bad enough in the original German.”  Charon replied.  “But it’s nice to know what psychological buttons to we have to push.”

Charon looked around.  The security team, four members of the crew who were now armed with optically sighted driver carbines, wore tactical vests over their normal shipboard uniforms, and wore tactical helmets, were standing on the deck waiting for their orders.

“Who’s the team leader?”

The nearest woman on the team replied.

“I am, sir.”

“Right,” said Charon, “I want you to place their leader under arrest, use a butt stroke if you have to.”

“Yes, sir!”

He spoke the other team members.

“You three, from left to right each of you will aim for the heads on each thug, on my command you will take them out.  Do you understand?”

They responded in the affirmative.

“Alright,” he said, “let’s dance.”

Charon slowly entered the dining room followed by the security team.

The three males from Hope each held an expensively dressed woman with a table knife at the throat.  Their employer was a young male in his mid-twenties, he had long and absurdly kempt hair and was dressed in the current youth fashion of Earth.

The employer turned to Charon and shouted.

“Who the fuck are you?”

Charon ignored the obscenity and replied.

“Evelyn Alexander Charon, Chairman of the Board of the Freyaspace Corporation, and you are?”

The three men from Hope became visibly nervous and started looking at each other for support. The employer replied.

“You know who the fuck I am!”

Charon refrained from smiling and replied.

“You apparently lack an understanding of basic courtesy.”

“Fuck that!  I want my bitch back and I want to go back to Earth!”

Charon shook his head.

“You also lack an understanding of basic ethics.  A person isn’t property. And I’m not going to start on the subject of astronautics.”

Wolfe pulled a small device with a visible red button out of a pocket.

“Fuck you!”  He shouted.  “Give me my bitch back or I’ll kill it!”

“Go ahead.”  Said Charon calmly.  “Push the button.”

Wolfe smiled as he pressed down on the red button.

“There!  Its dead!”  He shouted.  “What you gonna do now?”

Charon shook his head before calmly replying.

“Did you even bother to change the battery on the kill switch?  We already cut off the bands.  She’s now a free woman with a proper name.  And there’s nothing you or your connections on Earth can do about it.”

Charon now turned his attention to the three men from Hope.

“And you gentlemen, you should be ashamed of yourselves, being employed by a slave owner.”

“What you talkin’ about?”  The man in the middle responded.  “That cracker bitch don’t mean shit to us!”

“Of course not.”  Said Charon.  “Humans only mean something to humans.”

The man on the left shouted.

“Who the fuck are you to talk shit to us?”

Now Evelyn Alexander Charon smiled.

“You should already know who I am.”  He said.  “I was born eleven minutes and six seconds after President Kennedy was murdered in Dallas, Texas.  I was present in the United States when I saw that it was time for a change.  I Killed President Hope and his cabinet while the First Lady screamed in vain.  ‘Pleased to meet you, hope you guess my name.’”

All three of the men from Hope suddenly realized that the man deemed to be the incarnation of Lucifer, who in the history that was taught on Hope killed their leader and brought down their people centuries ago on Earth, was now standing before them.

They all released their hostages and began to charge forward towards Charon.

Charon shouted the order.

“Fire!”

All three driver carbines fired as if they were one.  All three of the men from Hope fell to the deck at the same time.

The security team leader now moved forward.  She spoke to Wolfe.

“Douglas Wolfe, you’re under arrest for the crime of enslavement, this is a capital crime.”

Wolfe shouted.

“Fuck you bitch!”

The team leader, in accordance to her training, swung the carbine.  With her left hand on the forward grip and her right hand grasping the stock she forcefully connected the butt of the weapon to Wolfe’s head.  He was knocked to the deck unconscious.

Captain Hausa stepped into the dining room.

She looked at the remains of the men from Hope.

“‘Those who dehumanize others only dehumanize themselves.’” She quoted.

“Well, I thought it was an obvious fact.” He replied.

“And you didn’t mention the time you saved the survivors of the State of Israel?”

“So file a complaint with the poet board.”  He replied.  “Let’s get this mess cleaned up.”

After the hostages were taken to the sick bay, the bodies were bagged, the mess cleaned up in the dining room, and the paperwork filled out, Evelyn Charon and Captain Hausa held a meeting in her office.

“We’re ready to dump the bodies.”  She said.

“I know you don’t like pushing dead mass, but I think we should make the jump to the Nowhere System first.”

“Why?”

“This is going to be a long answer.” He said.

“I’m listening.”

“In my experience those who believe they are exempt from the law, as with narcissists like Mister Wolfe, often do so because they have a connection within the government, or what now passes for a government on Earth.  That connection will now be used against us.  And we’ll be the ones treated as criminals.”

“But we’re in the right.”  She said.

“With narcissists right and wrong are irrelevant.  What matters to them, and only what matters, is that we submit to their will.”

“Just like Islam.”  She replied.

“Yes.”  He said.  “Just like Islam.”

Captain Hausa thought for a moment.

“If the opposition goes fully Soviet on us,” she said, “they’ll manufacture evidence to use against us, it won’t matter if we dump the bodies now or not.”

“I can see that.”  He replied.  “Let’s dump the bodies then.

“Yes, sir.”

Captain Hausa had another question.

“How does this effect the underground space line?”

“Aversely, I would think.”  He replied. “Very adversely.”

On this run alone there were already twelve escaped slaves traveling in secret on the hibernation deck.

“I’m afraid this incident may cause us to curtail further transport operations from Earth.”  He said.  “It’s too bad there aren’t any independent ship owners who could take up the load.”

Captain Hausa had a thought.

“The company still has ships in storage from the time of the big lift from Mars.  We could reactivate some of those ships as part of an independent space line and flag them from another independent planet.”

He looked directly at her.

“Do you think you can pull it off?”

“I know I can.”  She said with confidence.

“Please have the proposal in writing before we reach home.”

“Yes, sir.”

Charon had another thought.

“This situation will become much uglier.”

“In what way, sir?”

“Those who believe themselves to be superior beings hate to held to a valid moral standard, for example the National Socialists in Germany.”  He said. “ And they violently express their rage not only at those who hold them to the moral standard, but also those who’re conveniently in range.”

“Yes.”  Said Captain Hausa.

“The people in the support network on Earth are clearly in danger.”  He said.  “It’s time to evacuate the last good people on Earth.”

“We’re not the angels of the Lord, sir.”  She said.

“Well, someone has to do the job.”  He replied.  “God won’t.”

Captain Hausa had another thought.

“Sir, some people at home would say that you we are acting altruistically.”

“And I can’t be a selfish bastard if I can’t live with myself.”

“I don’t remember reading that, sir.”  She replied.

“I just thought of it.”  He said.  “It comes with the job.”

Evelyn Charon had another thing to say.

“There will be a war.”  He said.  “And I would expect it to be the bloodiest war in human history.”

“We won our own War Of Independence.”  She replied.

“We were lucky.  Your grandfather was the smartest and most experienced general officer alive at the time.  And the central government on Earth wasn’t prepared for a war at that time.”  He said. “But we may have to bring him out of cold storage to fight this war as well.”

Captain Hausa could only nod her head in agreement.

Evelyn Charon was tired after the meeting but he thought he had to return to the sick bay.  It was there that he found Diana had been cleaned up and transferred to a normal hospital bed.

Asleep and without the horrid makeup, even in the subdued light of the sick bay, she was angelic in appearance.

Doctor Adams gently stepped up behind him and softly spoke.

“Now what?”

Evelyn softly answered.

“She goes through the healing process and personal growth and lives a proper human life.”

Doctor Adams asked another question.

“Are you prepared to see her go through it?”

Evelyn looked at her. He didn’t have an answer.

Doctor Adams spoke again.

“Are you willing to accept the responsibility?”

“Yes.”  He said.

He thought for a moment and then spoke again.

“Now that Alex is up and about he could use a project to keep him tied to the home office.”

“You’re not walking away from this one!”  She responded.

“You know him.”  He replied.  “As soon as he is healthy enough he’ll be up to his neck working to solve the problems we’re now stuck with.”

Cheryl Adams shook her head.  Evelyn responded.

“Alex made every effort to be a good husband and father.”  He said.  “He can be one again, and you should marry him.”

Her eyes widened.

“I love you.”  She responded.

He answered her.

“I love you Cheryl, but I can’t, I simply can’t.  My first wife, Susan, and our daughter Alice, were murdered by a Muslim suicide bomber, and Sonya and I were married after she survived the Second Holocaust.  I can’t expect this incarnation to be any quieter.”

He continued to speak softly.

“I love you, but now there’s a storm coming, I’m not counting on surviving it, and I’m not leaving a widow behind.”

He kissed her on the forehead and spoke softly.

“Goodnight.”

There was nothing else he could do.
 
It was time to clean up the mess.

The first part of the process was to remove the biohazard fluids, blood, brain matter and urine, left on the decks by the dead thugs.  This was followed by the examination for evidence of the staterooms and luggage of the offenders.  This task was left to the security chief of the ship, Julie Canny.

The three thugs from Hope had clothing that was flashy and ill fitting.  Designed to be worn by those who barely engaged in any thought.  And with the belief that it was effective for attracting attention from those who didn’t think.

The little intellectual material found on their notebook computers reflected the culture of their home world.  Full hatred for all races other than their own.  Extreme hatred of the Freyans.  Hatred of any form of independent thought and material success in reality.  The entertainment material was incoherent noise masquerading as music and some very hardcore pornography.

Their computers and clothing were ejected out the airlock with the mortal remains.

The Xenophonian mercenary was more interesting.

His personal clothing and other items were plain and practical.  His notebook computer took some effort to crack into.  Once the computer was cracked it was very apparent that in addition to working as the chief bodyguard of Wolfe, he also intended to perform a reconnaissance on a Freyan ship on behalf of the Xenophon Mercenary Corporation. Julie discussed the sections of the ship that were priorities for examination with the engineer, Mr. Czech.  In his opinion the information sought would be required to carry out a sabotage operation.

The Xenophonian’s body was placed in cryogenic storage on the hibernation deck and his computer and personal effects placed in secure storage to be turned over to Confederation military intelligence.

The apparel of Douglas Wolfe followed the current youth fashion on Earth.  This meant that he apparently put no thought into the acquisition or the appearance of it.

The notebook computer was another can worms altogether.

There were no intellectual text files present apart from an annotated English language translation of the Koran.  The music and video files followed the current entertainment fashion on Earth

This was no surprise.

The visual pornography files were very graphic and very sadistic in content.

Then Canny opened the file folder labeled DONNER.

If the images were computer generated then they were very indicative of a very deep psychological disorder.  If the images were real then they were hard evidence of a series of serious, sadistic, and lethal crimes.

Wolfe also had in his possession a hardbound copy of a work simply titled THE BOOK OF PEACE.

The computer, book, and Wolfe’s personal effects were placed in secure storage to be turned over to the Confederation police on Freya.

At the midpoint of their flight through the Solar System the liner went into free fall mode for turnover.  Although there was a way to continue acceleration during a turnover the Freyaspace management had concluded that it was a waste of reaction mass.

Just short of the jump point the Reliable came almost to a dead stop before the engines were shut off. The ship was in free fall mode and set to slowly coast through the location of the jump point in normal space.

Evelyn and Diana were belted into their observer seats on the command deck.  Diana had wore no makeup and had her hair cut to a practical length and was wearing slippers and scrubs from the sickbay.

From Evelyn’s view she was stunning.

“So how does the jump drive work?”  Diana asked.

“Good question.”  Said Evelyn.  “The closest thing I heard to a clear answer is that we’re taking advantage of a cosmic loophole.”

“In both the literal and metaphorical sense of the word?”

“Yes.” He replied.

In spite of the manufacturer’s training Diana was showing a great amount of curiosity and a willingness to learn.  But then she did initiate her escape on her own.  Once she had her own access to the ship’s network she devoured intellectual files as if there were no tomorrow.  In any case this was in Evelyn’s opinion a good sign.

The first officer spoke.

“Captain, all stations report ready for jump.”

Even though she checked the clock herself she followed the established procedure.

“Time to jump?”  She asked.

“Two minutes, forty seconds.”

“This is the most boring part.”  Evelyn said softly.

The first officer counted off the time to jump at fifteen second intervals.  And then began a full count at fifteen seconds.

At five seconds Evelyn spoke to Diana.

“Close your eyes.”

At the moment of jump the universe disappeared...

...and then reappeared.

When Diana recovered from the effects of the jump she spoke.

“What just happened?”

It took ten seconds for Evelyn to answer.

“It’s called jump shock or jump discontinuity.”  He said.

“It felt like I didn’t exist?”

“Yes.”  He said.  “Like reality became unreal for a moment.”

“Why?”

He looked at her.

“I have no idea.”  He said.  “No one does.”

DX Cancri was a red dwarf star that was almost twelve light years from Earth.  It only had nine percent of the mass of the Sun.  The lesser effect of the red dwarf’s gravity allowed the points from and to which ships could jump to be much closer together in space.  This had the practical effect of shortening the travel time and reducing the reaction mass requirements for crossing the system.  In addition to the point to the Solar System, DX Cancri also had jump points to fifteen other stars.

The port for the system was on an airless and ice covered satellite of an gas giant planet.  Someone with a sense of humor named it Nowhere.

On the approach to Nowhere three women were having a discussion in the sick bay.

“You want me to what?”  Said Diana.

Doctor Hart replied.

“We need to take your physical measurements so we could go shopping for you on the station.”

“Why can’t I go shopping myself?”

Doctor Adams answered.

“On this ship you’re a person.”  She said.  “The station is Federation territory, where you’re still classed as property.  And as an escaped slave you’re subject to summary execution upon identification.”

“So I can’t go?”  Said Diana.

“Correct,” said Doctor Adams, “so we’ll have to go for you.”

“And you’ll have all the fun?”  Asked Diana.

Doctor Hart replied.

“Well no.  We can bring up the catalog and you can make your choices here.  We’ll then go aboard the station and pick up the order.”

Doctor Hart brought up a catalog page on her workstation.

“Star-Mart isn’t the best retailer of women’s clothes in the Known Universe, but they’re on the Nowhere station, you can do a better job of shopping and have proper fun when we reach home.”

An announcement was made on the shipboard address system.

“One hour to free fall mode.”

As Diana was vicariously shopping with the doctors Evelyn was observing ship’s operations on the command deck.  When she found a break in procedures Captain Hausa walked over to and sat down next to him.

“Boss, we have a problem.”  She said.

“What is it?”

“Two agents of the Federation Investigation Service want to talk to you.”

“No.”  He responded.  “They should know better than to even make that request of someone with a diplomatic passport.”

“I took the liberty of making an inquiry.”  She said.  “Their address on the station is located in the section belonging to the Office of Replacement Retirement.”

Evelyn nodded.

“That’s such a lame designation for a murder squad.”  He said.  “Let’s be safe and assume the worst case is now in effect.  No one who’s not scheduled to transfer at the station leaves the ship. We top off the reaction mass tanks and go.”

“Yes, sir.”  Said Captain Hausa.

Charon decided to remain on the command deck while the ship was docked at the station.

Diana had made her way to the command deck while the ship was in the free fall condition. She wore velcro grip gloves and slippers.  She’d learned to do the Kubrick walk in the weightless condition.

“Sit down and strap in.”  Evelyn said.

Diana did so.

“What happened?”  She asked.

“The slave murder squad wants a word with me.  I said no.”

She stared at him.

“Try to not worry, we’ll top off the tanks and be out of here.”

She nodded.

Charon continued to sit on the command deck and supervise.  Before the top off procedure was almost complete his personal phone rang.

“Yes Captain?”  He said.

“Sir, we have another problem.”

“What is it?”

“The thugs are stopping the remass procedure and said they’re aiming the station’s weapons at the ship. They want to speak to you, NOW.”

Charon thought for a moment.

“I’ll meet with them at the passenger airlock.  Have the security team ready to repel boarders.”

“Yes, sir.”

Diana spoke.

“What’s happening?”

“The slave murder squad is being really stupid.”  He replied.  “They’re threatening to use force. I’m going to have a nice little chat with them.”

“I want to be there.”  Diana said.

“They want to kill you.”

“I’m responsible for my own life.”

“Yes, you are.”  Charon replied.  “But I won’t let them take you while I’m alive.”

Diana nodded.

“Let’s go.”  He said.

The security team were setting up at the nearest corridor crossing to the airlock.  They were wearing their zero-g combat overalls, with velcro patches to allow the wearers to attach themselves to the deck or those sections of wall and ceiling that were also covered with velcro. They also had two squad support weapons. They were the four millimeter mass driver technology replacement for the general purpose machine gun. The gunners had locked the five hundred round ammunition cassettes in place. The bipods were set into slots in the walls for operation in the free fall environment.  To civilian eyes the slots appeared to be solely decorative.  The optical sights on the weapons were at the single red dot setting for zero-g.

The two other team members carried what appeared to be telescopes with bipods, pistol grips, and rifle stocks.  There were power cords for the laser weapons running to packs on each crew members back.

All members of the security team were using the corners of the entry corridor to mask their bodies from view from the airlock.  With only the head, arms, and shoulders being visible.

When the security team was ready the leader spoke.

“We’re ready.”  Said Julie.

Attached to the deck with their velcro shoes just three meters short of the airlock were Evelyn Charon, Captain Hausa, and Diana.

“Good.”  Said Evelyn.

He turned to the Captain.

“You don’t have to be here.”

“I’m the captain.  I have to be here.” She replied.  “And I wouldn’t miss the work of a master.”

“I wouldn’t quite put it that way.”  He replied.

He turned to Diana.

“You don’t have to be here.”  He said.

“I’m not leaving your side.

He looked straight ahead.

“Right then.  Remember, fear is an emotion, fear is the negation of thought, I will pass by the state of fear to the state of reason.”  He said.

Charon placed his hands on his hips and issued the order.

“Open the airlock.”

The door to the Nowhere Station slid open.

On the far side of the airlock, still within the station was a black clad group of eight men. Each of them were armed with the nine millimeter ACRS.  The shortened version of the last generation of chemically fueled assault weapons issued by the Federation armed forces.  Their feet were attached to the deck with velcro slippers over their combat boots.

Morons.  Charon thought. The first man to fire a round would be propelled backwards.  And he would knock back everyone behind him in a free fall domino effect.

Which would be absurd if they weren’t deployed to do it for real.

Beyond the would-be storm troopers were two men, an older African-American and a younger Caucasian with an appalling boy band hair style.  They wore suits and ties.  Stationed on a space station they should’ve already known that neckties and the weightless condition didn’t mix.

They had to be the gentlemen from the Office of Replacement Retirement.

Charon spoke first.

“Gentlemen, I’m Evelyn Alexander Charon, you can step forward now to talk, I won’t bite.”

The older of the two responded.

“Mister Charon, we require your presence in our office.”

“Nonsense.”  Charon replied.  “Your authority ends at the airlock door, and I won’t step into it.”

The two men were dumbfounded.  They looked at each other in confusion.

Charon spoke again.

“You should step up so we could have a proper conversation. And you can send the goon squad home.  They wouldn’t last ten seconds in action under these conditions.”

In Charon’s opinion the goons wouldn’t last two seconds in combat and they would have left an awful mess, with blood sprayed literally all over the place, in the weightless conditions.

The black suited members of the tactical team were staring at the shipboard security team and their weapons properly emplaced for zero-g combat.

They wanted to go home.  Now.

The lead agent could also see the situation for what it was.  He decided there was nothing to gained by dying.

He spoke.

“Team leader!”

“Yes, sir!”

“Return to base!”

“Yes, sir!”

The tactical team leader raised the muzzle of his weapon away from the Freyans.  The remainder of the team did so as well.  They moved clumsily back to the spin section of the station.

The shipboard security team shifted the aim of their weapons to the two agents.

“Now.”  Said Charon.  “Let’s have a civilized conversation.”

The two agents stepped forward with their grip shoes on the deck.  Charon asked a question.

“Why are you interfering with the operation of this ship?”

The lead agent spoke.

“We have information that four of your passengers are dead, one has been placed under arrest and is in hibernation, and that you’re giving sanctuary to a replacement.”

Charon answered with the full voice of moral authority.

“This vessel is registered under the flag of the Ursa Major Confederation.  Douglas Wolfe committed a capital crime and is under arrest.  His four employees were killed while assaulting myself and four other passengers on this ship.  And Diana is a person, not a piece of property.”

“And does this alleged person have a surname?”

Evelyn quickly answered.

“Charon.”  He said.  “Diana Charon.”

Evelyn shifted his right hand towards Diana.  She placed her left hand in his and stepped towards him.

“Mister Charon, why are you defying the law?”

“What law?”

“You are stealing a replacement from the rightful owner and holding him captive.”

Charon answered. Firmly.

“The true code of law is based on the individual right to live, this isn’t only the right to physically exist but also the right to be in complete control of one’s own life. What you’re doing is simply a complete denial of that right.  What I’m doing is a complete defense of that right.”

Evelyn then voiced a personal opinion.

“And someone who claims ownership of another person is nothing more than a predatory animal, to be identified and dealt with as such.”

Charon then had one more thing to say.

“Does your mother know that you murder slaves?”

The African-American senior agent responded sharply.

“Leave my mother out of this!”  He said.  “And we don’t commit acts of murder!  We retire replacements!”

Charon shook his head.

“Really?  Couldn’t you come up with a better euphemism?  The term ‘retirement’ was lame when Ridley Scott used it in the original version of Blade Runner.”

“Oh, I forgot.”  Said Charon.  “A euphemism requires original thought.”

“Mister Charon?”  Said the senior agent.  “Why are you wasting our time?  Just hand over the replacement and release the owner to us and you can go.”

“And be an accessory to murder?”  Said Charon as he shook his head.  “That’s out of the question.”

The senior agent desperately attempted another tack to obtain his goal.  He spoke to Captain Hausa.

“Sister,” he said, “you can feel that he’s wrong, for the sake of yourself, your ship and the people on it, just comply with the law.”

Captain Hausa shook her head and replied with authority.

“You have no law.”  She said.  “And to comply with your demands would be irrational.”

The junior agent interjected.

“Reason makes you white!”

Captain Hausa replied firmly.

“Is that so?  Reason is what makes us human.”

Diana spoke up.

“I would suggest that you quit before you die of embarrassment, but it appears that you’re incapable of it.”

Evelyn Charon cracked a smile.

“Gentlemen, give up while you still can.”  He said.

The senior agent was exasperated. He’d reached his limit.

“Who are you?  Who are you to speak to us that way?”

“Simply a man.”  He replied.  “I did say my name was Evelyn Alexander Charon.”

The junior agent shouted.

“Which one?  Second , third, or forth?”

Charon responded.

“I was born on November Twenty Second, Nineteen Sixty Three, in Dallas, Texas.  With all the bullets flying around my parents thought it would be a good idea to move to Minnesota.  I enlisted in the United States Army on March Tenth, Nineteen Eighty Two.  I was wounded in a friendly fire incident during Operation Desert Storm along with my company commander, Captain John Andrew March. I worked for him as he served as the Governor of the State of Minnesota, the last President of the United States, and the first President of the Federation.”

Both agents were stunned.

“That’s impossible.”  Said the eldest.  “You can’t be him.  You can’t be the destroyer.  You’re too young.”

“We call it reincarnation by technological means.”  Charon replied.  “And it’s a perfectly legal act on Freya.”

“You’re a replacement!”  Shouted the youngest agent.

Charon looked straight at the youngest agent and replied directly.

“And what are you going to do?”  He said. “Kill me?  Kill Diana?  Even if you could kill us there will be Hell to pay, and my next incarnation will be there to collect.”

Both agents were silent. Charon continued to speak.

“Xenophonian mercenaries murdered three members of my family during the War Of Independence.  We responded by striking the planet Xenophon with ultra high yield cobalt cased thermonuclear weapons.  Nothing lives there now.  Not even mutants hunting each other for food. Your actions aren’t enforcing any law that we could objectively see as being valid.  And there’s no place in the known universe that you’ll find sanctuary.”

Both agents turned pale.

“What are we to do?”  Asked the senior agent.

The answer was simple.

“Do no further harm.”  Said Evelyn.

The Reliable topped off her reaction mass tanks and departed from Nowhere Station with no further interference.

The first moment they had alone Evelyn and Diana talked.

“So we’re married?”  She said.

“Apart from some paperwork being filled out, yes.”

“And why didn’t you say so earlier?”

“You’re a victim of one of the worst crimes that can be committed.  I wanted you to make your own decision on your own.  That idiot forced my hand.”

“So what do we do now?”

“We live.”

Evelyn and Diana kissed.

The transit to the jump point was uneventful.

The next world on the route was Vance.  It was a habitable satellite of a gas giant planet of another red dwarf star.  It was discovered by John Vance, an Australian explorer employed by the Freya Project.  It had a seventy percent gravitational pull and an atmospheric pressure at the surface similar to the city of Denver on Earth.  This world allowed people born in the habitants of Mars to acclimate to higher gravity and an open sky.

And because some of the original Martians had remained on this world it would become a member of Freya Pact during the War Of Independence and later join the Ursa Major Confederation.

With no plans to land on the planetary surface Diana and Cheryl went shopping on the Vance orbital station.  They entered the local branch of Star-Mart in the spin section of Vance Station.

As they were locating items found in the catalog the store manager confronted them.

He pointed to Diana and shouted with a brusque tone of voice.

“YOU!  Get out of here!”

Cheryl intervened.

“Is there a problem?”

“Yes!”  Said the manager loudly.  “We don’t serve replacements here!”

The corporate logo and serial number tattoo on Diana’s forearm was still visible.

Cheryl replied.

“My friend is a person and you’re in the Ursa Major Confederation.”

“Doesn’t matter, bitch!”  The manager replied.  “Corporate policy forbids transactions with escaped replacements.”

“You’re just following orders?”

“Yes!”  The manager replied.  “Now get out of here before I call the cops!”

Cheryl replied with a level voice.

“Go ahead, call the police.”

The first pair of station police officers that arrived said they were under orders to wait for their supervisors.  They rejected the demands by the store manager to eject the two women.

The next to arrive were the manager of the station, the chief of the station police, Captain Hausa, and Evelyn Charon.

As Evelyn took charge of the situation the store manager shouted.

“Who the Hell are you, punk?”

“Evelyn Charon, Chairman of the Board of the Freyaspace Corporation.”

The store manager visually scanned Charon for a moment.

“You’re too young, punk!”  The manager replied in what Charon recognized as an old Chicago accent.

“The Freyaspace Corporation is a owned family business.  An actual family business.  Unlike those back in Chicago.”  Charon responded.  “But that’s not important right now.  What’s the problem we are responding to is that you're in clear violation of the lease agreement the Star-Mart Corporation has with the Freyaspace Corporation.”

“Doesn’t matter!”  The store manager replied.  “My orders come from Earth!  We don’t take shit from colonial punks.”

He pointed to Diana.

“Get that walking piece of shit out of here!  NOW!”

Captain Hausa spoke.

“The next thing he’ll do is deny service to ‘niggers.’”

“Well, we can’t have that.”  Said Charon.

He turned to the station manager and spoke.

“Karl, the contract is revoked, close the store.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You won’t get away with this!”  The store manger shouted.  “You’ll pay for this! You won’t escape punishment from us!”

“Who’s us?”  Said Charon.

The store manager suddenly realized that he wasn’t back in the City of Chicago on Earth.  His political and social connections could no longer protect him.

Charon turned to the chief of the station police.

“Chief?  Did you get everything that moron said?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Chief, would you please demonstrate to this gentleman how we deal with those persons who believe they’re exempt from an objectively valid code of law.”

“Yes, sir.”

The chief of the station police and the other officers present pulled out their batons and proceeded to beat the store manager into a bloody pulp.

“Ladies,” said Evelyn, “we’ll have to shop somewhere else.”

The last jump in the journey was to the system of 10 Ursae Majoris.  The system was a binary. The primary star was classed by astronomers as a F5 dwarf and the secondary as a G5 dwarf like the original Sun.  The system was 52 light years from the Earth.

The configuration of the orbit of each star caused the position the jump points in the system to shift radically over the course of time.  It also allowed the system to have two habitable planets.

Orbiting the smaller and dimmer star of 10 Ursae Majoris B was the planet Freya.  Named for the Norse goddess of wealth and beauty the core group of colonists came from the sealed habitats of Mars.  Survival in the lethal environment of the Red Planet required a hardcore realist view of existence. A world view that couldn’t indulge in fantasies.  While some people found the core culture of the Freyans to be hostile and the travel distance to be extreme there were now a hundred million people living on the planet.

The corporate executive shuttle dropped away from the primary space station.  The destination was the surface port at Landfall.  The capital of the planet and the Ursa Major Confederation.

Their limousine pulled out from the corporate section the down port. It turned north for the hour drive to family estate.

Evelyn and Diana were met at the main entrance of Charon House by a very elderly man with a cane and an eyepatch.

Evelyn made the introduction.

“Diana, this is my first incarnation, Alex.”

Alex graciously took her right hand into his.

“Welcome to the family.”  He said.

“Thank you, sir.”  She replied.

Alex smiled.

“You needn’t say that.”  He said.

He then spoke to Evelyn.

“You left the usual trail of death and destruction?”

“Well, yes.”  Said Evelyn.

“There are some things we need to discuss.”  Alex replied.

Proposal

We in the United States are stuck with two political parties.  The leadership of one party is insane and the leadership of the other party simply doesn't care.

Perhaps its time to start a new political party.  Is a new political party possible?

The answer is, I don’t know.  The opponents of chattel slavery proceeded, even with public opposition.  We, as opponents of political power, have to.  We need to treat exercises of political power, such as censorship, as crimes against Humanity.  We need to treat bans on firearms and free speech as the anti-Human acts that they actually are.  Our political elites have apparently forgotten the lesson taught by our original civil war, that banning freedom doesn’t work.  Our political elites tried to ban the voluntary consumption of alcohol, it didn’t work.  Our political elites tried to ban the voluntary consumption of hard drugs, it doesn’t work.  Our political elites will try to ban the voluntary ownership of firearms and freedom of speech, it will never work.  Our politicians are supposed to do a specific job and they aren't doing it.  We have to start a new political party to go around them.  We don't have a choice.

Thoughts For The Day

The State must be restrained.  The cause of both of the world wars were some unrestrained states running amok.  Religion and violence go together like smoke and fire.  Those who believe absurdities have committed atrocities, we saw this happen on 9/11. 

We used to execute traitors, this isn't progress.

What's the purpose of religious tolerance?  The individual is the sovereign authority in a civil society.  Because of this the government can't impose a belief, including a religious belief, upon the person.  Thus any religion that accepts the individual as sovereign authority in a civil society can and must be tolerated.

It's very easy to cause a Leftist to become angry and even to cause one to demand the exercise of deadly force against you.   All you have to do is speak the truth.

Here's a link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YH3c1QZzRK4

Thoughts Of The Day

It's easy to refute someone when they insist on being wrong.  All one has to do is tell the truth.  But someone can't refute anyone when they insist on being right.  That's why advocates of tyranny always advocate censorship.  Free speech is a moral necessity.  Those who declare free speech is hate speech and must be banned are Enemies of Mankind and must be dealt with as such, in the Nuremberg style, from the neck until dead.  The one word that tyrants, and those who seek to become tyrants, don't want to hear is the word "NO."  Even to suggest that a person has the right to say NO is the equivalent of speaking a death sentence to tyrants and wanna-be tyrants.  What is censorship?  It's the forcible prevention of the transmission of information.  In the context of an adversarial situation, such as the invasion of a Free Nation by a Socialist State, the act of censorship is morally mandatory.  Such an invader has no more right to information about the defending forces than a biker gang has to the location of your wife or daughters.  In the context of a civil society, valid information concerning those holding or seeking public office and their goals and beliefs, is necessary in order for members of the electorate to make a valid decision when they exercise their authority.  To vote correctly, the voter needs to know the truth about office seekers and their beliefs and personal conduct.  Those who must suppress the transmission of valid information, such as corrupt office holders who are acting through their lieutenants, or through the local campus communist goon squad, are harmful to the individual citizens and the political community as a whole.  Those who attempt to practice censorship in a civil society are enemies of that society and must be identified and dealt with as such.  The use of certain words is unavoidable when you write bad characters.

I think censorship should be a capital crime, but that's my opinion.  Power is death.

Those who proudly served Nicaraguan coffee when the country was under communist rule (when the coffee was grown by slave labor) seriously believed themselves to be superior people, so do the members of the Klan, the members of the NSDAP, and the members of Anti-fa.

If history has taught us anything it is that those who imagine themselves to be infallible will fail.  And those who imagine themselves incapable of evil will do evil.  If you're just following orders then your life doesn't matter to your actual fellow citizens.  They leap at the chance to rob and murder and then complain that they are treated as robbers and murderers.  They refuse to apologize for their actions but demand that we apologize for ours.

"Fascist", or "Fascism"  are convenient labels for what speaker dislikes. 

From my perspective as a veteran combat rifleman it is very clear that the perpetrator of the shooting incident at LAX lacked the knowledge necessary to effectively use the weapon. It is as if he held the Marxist view that the mere possession of the instrument was sufficient to make effective use of it. The fact is that a trained rifleman using an AR-15 type rifle (FEH!) with a single thirty round magazine and iron sights should have been able to inflict at least twenty casualties.  To continue this criticism in detail would effectively provide a guide for future assailants and thus would be immoral.  The point is that knowledge matters. And that ignorance is NOT strength.

Thoughts For The Day

The job of the police in a functioning society is to protect rights.  And those who deny rights will often act on their own beliefs.

Knowledge is the foundation of Authority in every field of life and Politics is no exception.  Yet the deceived, the willfully ignorant, and the outright insane demand that we remain silent and submit to their nonsense without question, never mind the obviously lethal effects.  The truth means nothing to The Left, only their feelings and never mind the bodycount.  A state without a functioning mechanism of accountability and a means of peacefully removing those who're unfit to govern will eventually fall into corruption and a state of tyranny.  It's happening again, all members of the NSDAP, BLM, and Anti-fa, to a person will say they're good people and those who oppose them are evil.  If there's anything The Left should thank Adolf Hitler for it's making them look like the good guys.  You don't debate evil.  You expose evil for everyone to see and then crush it without anything resembling mercy.

Democrats at the present time have essentially degenerated to the point where they use words in a way that's opposite of their correct meaning, just as the old Soviet Communists did in their day.  We must recognize that warm body Democracy doesn't work.  The fact is that all forms of authority are based on knowledge and political authority is no exception.  But in the present system political authority is granted to any warm body without regard to their the actual state of knowledge. As a result some warm bodies have traded their votes for a material object such as an IPad or a wad of cash.  Or worse they've traded their votes for the warm and fuzzy feeling of having been compassionate.  When treason becomes the normal behavior of the ruling class then the ruling class must be replaced.

If Joe Biden were to strip naked and walk down Pennsylvania Avenue the Mainstream Media drones would proceed to describe the well tailored suit that he's clearly not wearing.  The problem with this is that The Democrats are a bunch of traitors, thieves, and murderers who don't care how high the pile of human bodies is as long as they are firmly seated on top, and thus are objectively unfit to hold any form of public office.  And if this wasn't bad enough as a former Army combat rifleman who refuses to be an mindlessly obedient drone in the socialist collective I'd be looked upon by The Democrats as some form of vermin.

In the Century of Death we've learned during that Marxism in theory has always led to mass murder in practice.  In objective reality the declaration of intent to commit murder, and in this case mass murder, is more than sufficient grounds to respond with deadly force.  The fact's that killing a Marxist isn't an act of murder, it's clearly an act of defense of Humanity in General.  And the sooner this begins the better off each of us as individuals and Humanity as a whole will be.  Real revolutions, not Marxist ones, happen because the government isn't doing it's job.  Both President Bushes failed to do their jobs.  We're in a war for our lives against Islam, AND WE'RE LOSING.  If anything should've been learned during the Century of Death it's that 's making deals with the opposition is bad.  The Republican Party routinely makes deals with the Democrats, the leadership doesn't understand why the rank and file members are angry or call them "Vichy Republicans."

The belief that shooting rapists encourages rape is a result of the Hegelian "reality is unreal" philosophy that's dominated academia for the last century.  It's time to clean out the cesspits that our colleges and universities have become.  Or simply start new colleges and universities.

My warning to Marxists is that you won't get a supervisory position in the new order.  Instead you'll be murdered by the insane person you put in power, just as Stalin did.  Socialism was the most toxic ideology of the last century.  There's no excuse for advocating it.
 

History Lesson

What most people don’t realize is that The Matrix is really a remake of the 1969 East German film Wirklichkeit ist eine Illusion, also lassen Sie uns sprechen Rätsel, Eintragfaden-Polizei und Tanzkampf (”Reality is an Illusion, so Let Us Speak Riddles, Shoot Police and Dancefight”). This film was made in response to the large number of philosophically obscure European films released in 1968 and the East German communists didn’t want to be left in the dust by their Western opposite numbers (It’s the RED pill for a reason).

Unfortunately the East German censors were either not “read in” on the project or they didn’t care and they refused to approve of its release and the film was placed into storage until the fall of the East German communist government in 1989. After a very short limited release a number of VHS copies of the film made it to Los Angeles and the rest is history.

(Yes, I’m kidding.)

On Gun Control

Gun Control is clearly a bad idea.  Gun Control is clearly unconstitutional.  In fact the federal agency that's supposed to enforce it, the BATF, needs to be disbanded.  There's no valid excuse to disarm the citizens of a nation.  The Democratic Party has promised to uphold The Constitution.  They've broken that promise, now we must break them.  The Waco Massacre should be treated as the act of state terror that it actually is.

You can replace the words Gun Owner in the mouth droppings of the Democrats with the word Jew in the mouth droppings of any National Socialist, that's how predictable they've become.

The advocacy of a political end can't be separated from the advocacy of the means it's brought about.  The case in this point is that the disarming of The People requires the use of deadly force.  Some advocates of "Gun Control" don't have a problem with this.  In their view reality is subject to a vote and therefore a vote to legalize the murder of citizens who own guns is morally correct.  But Reality is Real.  Reality isn't subject to a vote, and Murder is Murder, no vote by any political body can change that. 

I would replace The Second Amendment with the following:

The People of the United States, being the sovereign authority of the nation, shall not be disarmed.  To petition for, to enact, or to enforce legislation to disarm the People shall be a capital offense.  The Congress shall have the power to enforce this article by appropriate legislation.
 

Thoughts For The Day

Never underestimate the stupidity of a self appointed superior being.  Revolutions (real revolutions, not Marxist ones) happen because the State fails or does something else stupid.

The pen and sword have always been together through the course of Western Civilization and can't be practically separated. 

During The Satanic Panic I told my mother one may as well classify the game of Monopoly as satanic.

Being a know it all means never having to check facts or do a background check on the people who work for you.  To give a historical example of what happens with a know it all attitude we can look to an event prior to the commencement of the Second War War.  The Wehrmacht had printed a French edition of it's primary work on the theory of armored warfare and gave copies of them to the French Army for distribution to their garrison libraries.  A year later the German military attache went through the libraries to see who checked out the book.  Most copies had never been touched.  The few that were checked out had been read by lowly lieutenants.  The leadership of the French Army believed that they knew it all.  They lost the war of 1940.  Of course past performance is no indication of future results.

A totalitarian, be it a Marxist or a Mullah, sees other people as either a tool they could use or as trash to be disposed of.  In their mindset there's no such thing as an innocent person.  That is, someone who is inherently exempt from coercion, punishment, or outright destruction.  They're capable of believing and doing anything.  There can never be a lower limit to the acts of depravity that they're capable of.

Under the Primacy of the State the function of law is to control the productive population for the benefit of the ruling parasites. The rulers, and their immediate servants, aren't subject to those laws themselves.  The actual interest of the actual citizens is irrelevant. What matters is the whims of the rulers and those who willfully serve them.  Under the Rule of Law all real laws must be applied to all citizens equally such as the laws prohibiting homicide and theft.  As our Socialist rulers and their willing servants regard themselves as exempt from compliance with the laws, on what grounds can they claim to be protected under them?

"Most Russians Urban-Americans don't care whether they are ruled by fascists or communists or even Martians as long as they can buy six kinds of sausage lettuce in the store and lots of cheap vodka overpriced gourmet coffee."

-- General Alexander Lebed The Other Les.

Another Reason I Won't Vote Democratic

Here's two thousand words as to why I won't ever consciously vote for a Democrat.

For those who're victims of the public schools with the Mainstream Media, a group of Muslims managed to hijack four commercial airliners and crashed three of them into each of the main towers of the World Trade Center and the Pentagon.  We've yet to properly respond to this atrocity.  By a proper response I mean that we should've erased the abomination commonly known as the Kaaba from the face of the Earth with a high yield thermonuclear weapon.  And in doing so we would've demonstrated that the deity known as Allah was without question a false god and the doctrine known as Islam was an absolute load of nonsense.

Of course there will be those who would've point a finger at me and scream that I'm expressing hatred. So what?

If we would hang a traitor once in a while (pour encourager l'outres) they wouldn't be so annoying.

 A lie is a lie regardless of how many people choose to believe it or are compelled to believe it.  But the truth is the truth, learn to live with it.

There are those who pose as Progressives that have declared that criticism of Islam is an expression of hatred.

Really?

No, this is hatred.

Nearly 3000 people were murdered as an act of hated against Humanity.

Why?

For Muslims there's no why.  There's only the will of the false god Allah as dropped from the mouth of the false Prophet Mohammad.  And it 's only in the Nineteenth Century that we'd see anyone who equaled that level of depravity, such as Karl Marx.

What's the purpose of religious tolerance?

The individual is the sovereign authority in a civil society.  Because of this the government can't impose a belief, including a religious belief, upon the person.  Thus any religion that accepts the individual as sovereign authority in a civil society can and must be tolerated.  Under Islam man is the property of the deity.  A person has no rights, can't enact legislation, and can't establish and uphold a moral standard.  Compliance with Islam must be imposed by force.  Furthermore a Muslim is permitted to deceive or otherwise use nonbelievers for their own gain and even commit murder.  An underage girl who's protected under a rational code of law is seen, literally, as a usable object under the doctrine of Islam.

Such behavior, which denies the rights and sovereignty of the individual, can't be tolerated in a civil society.  I will furthermore go further in saying that the existence of Islam can be seen as possible proof of the nonexistence of God.  A rational, caring, and observant God should have vaporized the false prophet Mohammad the moment he opened his mouth to claim divine blessing for such obviously evil acts as rape, robbery, murder, censorship, and participation in the slave trade.  Islam is absolutely toxic to Human life.  And those, including the enforcers of Islamic doctrine, who deny the Rights Of Man absolutely cannot claim those very same rights for themselves.  Those who act to enforce the doctrine of Islam are absolute Enemies of Mankind.  They're fit solely for extermination.

A belief in Islamophobia is pure and absolute nonsense.  Islamophobia is a false concept.  Phobia is a Latin word for an irrational fear of something.

The obvious question is how can someone be tricked into betraying any moral value when they absolutely lack one?  The false prophet Mohammad commanded his followers to commit the acts of rape, robbery, and murder.  The doctrine of Islam commands enslavement and the systematic violation of the rights of man and to act as predatory animals.  Without question the doctrine and practice of Islam is absolutely depraved.  Given that Human Life is the foundation of all valid moral values then Islam must be absolutely condemned.  But the signatories of this document condemn as immoral those who hold an actual moral standard.  I' m hard pressed to respond to this utterly depraved document without the use of barracks language.  But I'll say this, Vidkun Quisling was shot for his betrayal of the Norwegian people and we’re going to need an all night firing squad to deal with this bunch.

They're not un-Minnesotan, they're anti-human.

 Is there such a thing as Islamophobia?

No.

It's perfectly natural to have a fear of being conquered by a bunch of ignorant and violent people.

Can a Muslim be a good person?  Is it possible for someone who's indoctrinated in the absolutely depraved ideology of Islam to act as a good person?  We saw examples of of a Muslim being good in during the terrorist actions in Paris.  The first being the police officer who's murdered by the Jihadists in the line of duty.  The other being the young man who led others to safety during the attack on the delicatessen.  It's possible for a Muslim to be a good person but this is a compromise.  As with all compromises it's untenable.  In the long run these people must renounce the doctrine of Islam and embrace Reason as the way of life.  Every Muslim, at least in theory, is Human.  A fundamental part of being Human is the capacity for reason, full perception and conscious thought.

The doctrine of Islam forbids rational thought.  Islam reduces all persons to the moral status of animals and thus to property.  In submitting to the alleged will of the false god Allah the Muslim renounces responsibility for their own actions.  All murders and other crimes committed by a Muslim are simply the will of the false god Allah.  In reality when a Muslim desires to commit an act of rape, robbery, or murder he simply declares that he is only following the orders of false god Allah.

The doctrine of Islam claims that the entire body of laws made by men, thousands of years of effort by mankind to create a just society, thousands of years of effort by of good men, who wrote legal charters and laws, including our original Constitution and our Bill Of Rights, are simply nullified by the mouth droppings of the false prophet Mohammad.

On what grounds can those who deny The Rights of Man can claim protection the under those very same rights?

None whatsoever.

But how one deals with another person determines how that person responds.  When the Muslim renounces responsibility for their own thoughts and actions they can no longer be rationally identified as being Human.  And we who remain rational humans can no longer identify and deal with a Muslim as a proper person who's responsible for their own life and actions.  We can only see them as toxic organisms to be removed as a hazard to our lives.  And worse the indoctrination of children in the doctrine of Islam condemns them to extinction as well.

Islam is a clearly false doctrine that serves only as an excuse for criminal actions that are beyond the toleration of civilized people.  Islam denies all of the Rights of Man and therefore no Muslim can claim any of those rights for himself.  We must accept as a fact of reality that Islam is outside of the protection of the First Amendment and take the actions necessary to protect the citizens and legal residents of the United States.  The rational people of Earth are left with no alternative but to kill them all.  On the day of the extinction of Islam, I'll feel no guilt about it, and neither should anyone else.  Islam, like all other anti-Human (you know, EVIL) ideologies, can only be opposed through the education of the general population of its actual doctrines and effects, and through the consistent exercise of retaliatory force upon those Muslims who cross the line into violence.  When we do this (and we have to) the problem of Koran disposal will take care of itself.

I’m usually loath to agree with any Marxist, but I now agree with one.  We imagine our divine authority to be a reflection of ourselves.  The false prophet Mohammad imagined a monster like himself.  But then what can one say about a false religion founded by an individual who combines and magnifies the worst attributes of William Jefferson Clinton, Lafayette Ron Hubbard, and Charles Manson?

The basic goal of Rational Man is to live a human life.  The goal of the founder of Islam was to live as an animal without regard to the consequences.  Islam denies all of The Rights Of Man.  Muslims can't under any circumstances claim any of those rights for themselves.   In order to live in a Human society a Muslim must fully renounce Islam.  No exceptions can EVER be made.

We didn't start this war.  It began when the false prophet Mohammad took up the sword against those who refused to submit to his depraved will.  Those who choose to lay down the sword of Islam and join human civilization will be welcomed as friends.  Those who continue to wield the sword of Islam against Humanity are going to have that sword shoved up their terminal orifice.

Islam and the mass of contradictions that's claimed to be a system of law was the product of a thoroughly depraved individual.  Sharia law is a contradiction in terms.  Sharia is the codification of the nihilistic lust for power and plunder of the false prophet Mohammad whose moral values are essentially that of a predatory animal pretending to be a human being.  I could describe the false prophet Mohammad as a walking piece of excrement but that would be an insult to excrement.

Is there a solution to the problem of Islam short of a Final Solution?  The doctrine of Islam denies all of the Rights of Man including the Right of Life.  Given that Muslims are required to act as the mortal enemies of Mankind there are no middle grounds under which a peace can be negotiated with any of them.  In the end the practice of Islam must be removed from existence altogether.  Even if Muslims are not exterminated altogether they must be removed from rationally functioning human societies.  Those who deny the Rights of Man cannot live in a rational Human Society based on those rights.  Therefore Muslims have no place in a rational Human Society in and must be expelled from it.  Under no circumstances will any attempt be made to comply with any part of the Islamic code of law, including the dietary code.  If for example the least expensive food available to feed the Muslims in temporary detention before deportation is pork then it will be used.  If Muslims insist on complying with the false dietary laws and starve to death as a result then it’s their fault alone.

Clausewitz defined war as "an act of violence intended to compel our opponent to fulfill our will"

In demanding absolute submission the false prophet Mohammad had essentially declared war on Mankind.  Therefore those who follow his command to make war on those who properly refuse to submit are in effect enemy combatants and should be identified and dealt with as such.  Under the customs of warfare and subsequent legislation assault on a civilian is a serious offense with murder and rape being treated as capital crimes.  Humanity is at war with Islam.  Let's treat it as such.

Have we learned the lessons of 9/11?

NO.

One of the things we should have learned through direct experience in the Twentieth Century is that cowardice isn't an option.  We're in a fight for our lives and WE ARE LOSING.  We're losing what is in fact the Third World War because our rulers refuse to identify it as such.   And that the cause of liberty is in fact a holy cause.  We're in fact in a holy war.  One doesn't prevail in a holy war by pretending that the opposing faith is in fact valid.  We can only prevail if we correctly expose the falsehoods for which the enemy is fighting.  By treating their doctrine as false.  By systematically destroying their ideological infrastructure of indoctrination and enforcement.  Destroy their texts and temples, eliminate their enforcers with their indoctrinators.  But there's no excuse for cowardice when one's faced with actual evil.  We need to treat Islam as the toxic doctrine that it actually is.

A quote:  "Spare a moment to remember the nearly 3,000 innocent victims of insane hate who died on this day in the year 2001.  And spare a thought for the loved-ones they left behind."

-- Dr. John Ray.

Those who can believe absurdities will commit atrocities.  If the false prophet Mohammad were to appear in the United States today and behave as depicted in the Islamic records he'd either be locked in padded room and given a lifetime supply of happy pills, locked in a maximum security prison, or given the needle.  (Except in the state of Utah where he'd be taken out and shot.) 

I have a question for our self-appointed masters.

The Cold War is over, why do have relations with ANY Islamic country?

And remember:

Thoughts For The Day

People, as Ayn Rand advocated, should check their own beliefs.

Those believe themselves to be "woke" are actually dreaming the Marxist dream.  Socialism is slavery and socialists are slavers.  As any Human Being is concerned, all slavers, regardless of what auditory garbage they put forth as an excuse, are enemies of Mankind fit only for extermination. 

In Russia high school students are required to read The Gulag Archipelago by Alexander Solzhenitsyn with assembling and disassembling a standard infantry weapon.  American high school students can't even do that.  American high school students are ignorant of Totalitarianism and tought to fear weapons.  Many American High School students have become advocates of Totalitarianism.  This is clearly wrong.

Antisemitism in politics is the practical equivalent of a dead canary in a coal mine, I can't say this often enough.  We should treat Antisemites as the enemies of Humanity they actually are.  The novel 1984 was written as a warning to all of us.  Not as an instruction manual for the Democratic Party or members of Anti-fa.  Control over everything and everyone productive must be a Democratic or a member of Anti-fa wet dreams.  Nancy Pelosi, lamp post, rope, some assembly required.

It's happening again.  We look at The Holocaust as vile act that it actually was, but we're looking at it objectively.  Apart from a handful of psychopaths, those who performed The Holocaust identified themselves as good people and their victims as vile people.  We're seeing this again with members of Anti-fa and Black Lives Matter.  We know the results of their political fantasy.

The next time some damned fool tries to tell me that I don't need to own a gun I'll not attempt to explain why individual gun ownership is a moral and political necessity.  I'll instead cut to the foundation of their presumption.

Something like this:

You are NOT my fucking god, PISS OFF!

They have no right to exercise godlike control over our lives.  If they can't live with that fact then perhaps we should see to that they don't.

The assholes who once spat upon American servicemen and called them "baby killers" were all members of a political movement whose most powerful and consistent members had snuffed out over 110 million human lives, including the lives of many babies.  Who're the real baby killers here?

A mere pacifist, one who disdains violence without engaging in political action is simply a moral parasite in a free nation.  On the other hand a politically active pacifist, one who uses their vote or an elective office to interfere with the prosecution of violent criminals and the defense of a free nation, is a traitor who cloaks their actions in the shroud of righteousness. 

To those value power above all, no act in the pursuit of power is too depraved.  Anyone who feels that they're automatically right is automatically wrong.  Those who carried out The Holocaust believed they were victims fighting evil.  Those who'll carry out the next great mass murder will believe themselves to be victims fighting evil.  Thus power must be dispersed, diminished, destroyed, or simply deleted altogether.  If it weren't for the capitalist system most of the professional opponents of capitalism wouldn't have made it out of the uterus at birth..

There's a proper term for those who deny your Right of Life, they're properly called mortal enemies.
 
Unfortunately, Janet Reno has died of old age, so she can't hang for the Waco Massacre.

On Justice

It is better to kill one hundred innocents than to let one guilty person go.

-- Dolores Ibarruri ("La Pasionaria"), Spanish Communist

We on the Right tolerate the long and drawn out appeals process for death penalty cases, as frustrating as it is, because in we want to be certain that we will not put an innocent person to death. The Left, when it is in absolute power, simply doesn't care.

We on the Right believe in justice. The Left on the other hand, doesn't care how high the pile of human corpses is as long as they are firmly seated on top.

Blast From The Past

Let's talk about Socialism.

We must understand that Socialism is essentially a Master/Slave ideology. If you pardon me for quoting the First Trustifarian, "from each according to their ability, to each according to their needs." And for the socialists, as with the antebellum slaveholders, the needs of the masters will always be much greater than the needs of the slaves.

The socialist master class, both here in the United States and abroad, basically see themselves being dispossessed of what according to their ideology is rightfully theirs. Control of their slaves and the products of slave labor. What should not be a surprise to us is that the response of the socialist master class and their supporters is in many ways similar to the actions of the antebellum slaveholder class and their supporters.

Those who reject the chains of the Left are subjected to public ridicule and slander by the self-styled intellectuals and subject to physical violence by the goon squad, with the ski-mask replacing the white sheet as the attire of choice.

If you will pardon me for the use of shocking language, to the master class of the Left, we who reject the chains of Socialism are (regardless of our actual race) no better than a bunch of "Uppity Niggers." It should be no surprise to us that they are treating us as such.

If we want to go on the ideological offensive (Or is it the Counter-Offensive?) we should simply point out the fact that the socialist economic structure is based on SLAVE LABOR.

If you will pardon me for repeating this, "from each according to his ability -- to each according to his need." Is the literal description of a slave labor economic system.

It is invariably the full socialist states such as the Soviet Union, the Third Reich, and the various People's Republics of Whatever that build and depend on full-service slave labor camps to create the goods that they need to survive.

It is the socialist parties in the otherwise Capitalist nations of the West that act as if wealth, the product of everyone's thought and labor, belong not to the individual who created it, but to some manifestation of the collective (Der Volk, the World Proletariat, etc.) as a whole, and thus act as if a robbery has occurred when the true creators of wealth are allowed to keep some of it.

(Gosh, wow, I do tend to get a bit long winded sometimes.)

The socialist is for the most part someone who declines to live the essentially rational and productive life that is proper to Man, and instead goes to great lengths (including the total disconnect from reality) to cook up excuses to grab the wealth created by others. As if the goods and services created by others were something naturally found in nature.

Instead of living as rational men, socialists choose instead to exist as less than rational animals. 
Perhaps we should start treating them as such. Let's start by voting them out of office and go on from there.

What are your questions on this block of instruction?

Questions And Answers

Do Democrats cheat?  Yes.

Why?  To Democrats the fundamental value is power.  Freedom is the negation of power and therefore must be opposed.  Or at least in public Freedom must not be supported lest the victims come to understand their actual position within the socialist order.  A Democrat wouldn't be caught dead standing up for an actual Human value.  Cheaters, like The Democratic Party, need to be taken off the political playing field.

Has anyone noticed that the Republicans are clearly once again the party of liberation while the Democrats have resumed, through their advocacy and support for the various forms of Socialism, their old role as the party of subjugation?
 
What is the difference between the Democratic party and a criminal gang?  There isn't any.

Why would anyone have a problem with a substance that is known to harm only the disease carrying insects that kill?  Because once upon a time ago a morally sick woman by the name of Rachel Carson told a lie.  She said that DDT was killing the cute little birdies before they were hatched from their eggs.  This assertion has never been verified, but so what?  Politicians who posture as "environmentally conscious" chose to ban the use of DDT as a pesticide anyway.  The result's a bodycount through malaria that apparently rivals that run up by the followers of Hitler or Stalin.  If there were in fact a Dark Lord of Hell, he'd have to pat the shade of Rachel Carson on the head and say in the tone of voice used by the teachers of mentally retarded children, “GOOD JOB!”  In reality the life of a human being must have a superior value in any valid moral system.  Even if a bunch of cute little birdies have to die so a child can live we shouldn't have an ethical problem with that.  Anyone who does have a problem with that shouldn't be allowed to hold any position of political authority.

At what point does one declare that enough is enough?  When will we hang a few members of Anti-fa?

Has anyone else noticed that the United States of America no longer has a government?  We now have a bunch of raving lunatics who're pretending to be a government. 

History Lesson

The absolute first thing taught at infantry basic training during the Cold War was that the maximum effective range of an excuse is zero.  On the face of it I saw this as the response to any attempt to explain a failure to learn a necessary skill.  But this idea also applies to the moral nightmare we were facing during with the Communist enemy and their excuses for their crimes.  The functions of ideology are to erase the responsibility of the perpetrators for their actions and to deny the humanity of the victims.  But there's never a valid excuse for murder.

Anniversary

Mark Urbin reminds us that the Hungarian revolution began in this day in 1956.

And it doesn't matter how many victims are shot--Communism does not work and is never an excuse for enslavement and murder.

.
And a thug is a thug and not worthy of worship.

Thoughts For The Day

The Left abhors the thought of being judged by their character because they have none.  What's present is the black hole of their lust for power.  A desire for control over every aspect of our lives that distorts or destroys everything that comes within their influence.  The positive side is that if we don't drop below their moral event horizon we can escape from their influence.  But we will be damaged as a result.  The problem with painting the streets with the blood of our enemies is that we have to clean up the mess later.  I still wonder how folks on The Left manage to get out of bed without seriously hurting themselves.

An election in a constitutional republic is a process of hiring someone to perform a constitutionally defined task.  It's not a mystical collectivist ritual for the anointment of a stone age god-king.  We don't believe in The Leader Principle. We don't believe that the stone age god-king that Democrats believe in is in any way the embodiment of a collective will.  And we certainly don't believe that we're in any way subject to what's in fact a Democrats personal whim.  We aren't and never will be a living prop in a ideological fantasy.  We won't bind ourselves with the chains that a Democrat offers us.  And we will never embark on the path that always leads to the anonymous ditch outside of a town.   A Democrat is a believer in what Ayn Rand used to call the Primacy of Consciousness, a belief that reality isn't inherently real but is in some way alterable by a ruling consciousness.The Collective, which in many versions of Socialist doctrine has a distinct consciousness of its own. Some Leftists have gone as far as to claim that the individual perception of actual reality, which invariably contradicts the doctrines of the collectivists, is a form of false consciousness.  This explains why the Left has made the effort to gain control of the Mainstream Media, and why they insist on "shaping opinion" instead of simply reporting the facts.  Democratic supporters in the media are through the deliberate issuance of falsehoods trying to alter reality.  But reality is inherently real.  Facts are facts.  Or to put it in the simplest terms: A is A.  If Hitler could be Democratically elected, then maybe the Democratic process isn't so good after all. 

The Democratic Party's nomenklatura, being essentially a bunch of parasites, feel that they are entitled to rule over us.  How else does one explain the utter contempt of the nomenklatura for "the democratic process", and their ongoing desire to disarm us.  They feel threatened by the expression of the common citizen's rejection of the will of the nomenklatura and the presence of the citizen body's mean's of enforcing that rejection.  To a parasite, rejection is death.

The basic problem with the "know it all" mentality is the belief that they really do know everything. Thus any new information that contradicts their existing belief structure is often dismissed as being false.  The real results in the real world are a series of disasters that are too numerous to list.  Never underestimate the ability of the committed Leftist to willfully ignore the most obvious piece of verifiable evidence.  Just because someone else is holding the gun doesn't change the fact that someone is engaged in the act of robbery.  Peace is what happens when you run out of targets.  To deny free will is to deny personal responsibility for one's own actions.  In an age when one can kill more people with the stroke of a pen than with a lifetime's use of a personal weapon that's a pretty useful excuse.

The point of the First Amendment was to protect the right of the people, including what we now call the Media, to speak and publish the truth, no matter how unpleasant it may be to those in (or wishing to be in) government.  The problem isn't only is this right being openly abused but any attempt to deal with this abuse would only create a power that'll with absolute certainty be abused by the other party should it regain power over us.  Laws are enacted, both respectable and contemptible, because someone acts in a way that is harmful other persons.  The point of having a First Amendment was that the voters would be properly informed about their elected officials and those who were seeking public office.  Instead we have an Established Media whose members have, on the basis of party affiliation, slandered a sitting president with very obviously forged documents and refused to report on the malignant behavior of a presidential candidate.  This is a gross and deliberate violation of the public trust.  And while this would not necessarily bring about a repeal of the First Amendment it may cause some to interpret it in a manner that is less tolerant of the present forms of media malfeasance.  This could lead to further problems in the future.

H. Beam Piper once wrote that political revolutions occur in a nation because the politicians become discredited.  The Republican Party has to a large degree discredited itself by their continued insistence on practicing politics as usual and their continued practice of making deals with the other side.  I still remember Waco.  We've reached the end of the era of politics as usual.  In the other party we're no longer confronted with fellow citizens with legitimate concerns but with a barbarian horde screaming for absolute power over all aspects of human life, demanding blind submission to doctrines that have no basis in reality, and the enforcement of policies that have been proven destructive to human life and civilized society.  And when we raise rational objections to their dogmas and actions we're commanded to be silent and are subjected to punishment for disobedience. In every problem we face as a civilized nation the other party is either the primary cause or the primary aggravating factor of that problem.  The fact of the matter is that those who make up the membership of the other party are no longer our fellow citizens, they're our enemies.  Enemies of our Republic and Enemies of Human Kind in General.  We need to face up to the fact that our laws and customs have been corrupted by our enemies and now form a virtual Gordian Knot which binds us on a path that leads to our destruction.  We need to cut the knot and we need to do it now.

Thoughts For The Day

Anyone who believes that there is no difference between Right and Wrong is wrong.

In reality it's the willing servants and enablers of mass murderers who're defaming those who resist the mass murderers.  This would've been an opportunity to continue to rant about the inherent evil of peace activism and to issue another call to round up and shoot the lot of them.  Because as far as I'm concerned shooting a so called peace activist is no more an act of murder than putting down a rabid animal.

On This Date

Today is the anniversary of The Beslan Massacre.

Slave Labor Day

Before labor there must be thought.  Anyone who doesn't know what they are doing is wasting their time.  Today we celebrate the fat union bosses who live the high life off of the forced dues of the real workers who're forced to join labor unions.