Do you want to see what it looks like when the government takes your soul?

Imagine what would happen if you sat down with this woman in a quiet room and asked her to tell you her dreams. As a small girl looking out at the world, what did she dream of, what did she want from her life? Then stand with her in a mirror and ask her to look at what she has become. Did she ever dream she’d be out in the street holding a piece of posterboard shouting about her free phone?

Do you think she would break down and cry? Remain indignant?

I really don’t know how she would react, but I am sad for her.

And I am angry.

Angry at the bureaucrats who speak of compassion as they destroy dignity.

Angry at those who support welfare programs with no result other than taking someone who feels like they’ve hit bottom and giving them a shovel.

Tax the rich!

For what? So we can send more people home with their government phones and government food, where they can sit on the porch and slowly sink into the misery that is breathing but not living?

Sorry, but I’m not gonna be on that side. I’m not gonna tear people’s hearts out and stomp on their dreams in the name of social justice.

Tax the rich. Take more money for programs that take people’s souls. Take, take, take.

No thanks.

This is big government, social justice, welfare at work folks. Take from people who work to support programs that destroy. The welfare system is supposed to eradicate poverty, right? Then why isn’t it getting smaller? Why hasn’t it become obsolete?

This situation needs to be fixed but big government advocates are too hungry for power to be concerned about it. And capitalists are accused of being selfish? Rubbish.

It’s time to give these people their lives back. Rip the welfare system out and replace it with something that fulfills its purpose, to provide a safety net and get people back on track. Enough with the bottomless pit.

For all of you who plan to vote early, what if you change your mind?

Put aside for a moment that your mind is made up. What if you placed your vote, then watched a debate and heard something so shocking it changed your worldview? Imagine how substantial that would have to be. Your entire political and social foundation shaken. Then imagine how you would feel if you had already placed your vote?

My point? Even if you think your mind is set, even if you likely won’t change your voting preferences, wait. Absorb everything you can before casting your ballot. If you don’t change your mind, your decision will be further cemented as the right one. And if you do change your mind, think how relieved you’ll be that you didn’t vote early.

Prove that you want the tax code changed such that all income earners pay income tax.

Prove that you want the federal government to shrink such that in the future perhaps no one will need to pay income tax.

Prove that you believe people should be able to keep their property (income) and that you support consumption taxes rather than income taxes.

Prove that you want to be independent and responsible and reject the notion that you need government to take care of you.

Prove that you believe in yourself and only want government to protect your right to do so.

Prove, as a member of the 47 percent that pays no federal income tax, that the 47 percent assumption is untrue and vote for Mitt Romney.

I do not yet know what it feels like to bury my mother or father, but I would not attempt to fathom what it feels like to bury your child…

I attended a funeral yesterday.

It was a funeral for a 22 year old man.

I cannot describe for you the feeling of watching a father looking into the casket of his son.

Godspeed Brian.

This is an older essay I wrote that received some praise so I wanted to republish it here in a more fitting home. It could use some clean up and it probably would have been a little different if written today, but I left it unchanged.

So, I bought a new home defense shotgun the other day and in the course of getting to know the gun shop owner, I showed him a rifle given to me by my grandfather, who was a Navy pilot in WWII. My grandfather was kind of gun nut and I always appreciated that he was willing to make the ultimate sacrifice to protect his rights and ultimately mine, including that of owning a firearm.

That of course got me thinking about him and my other grandfather, who was an aircraft mechanic in WWII, and I recalled a day when I was visiting the former mechanic grandfather at his retirement home.

His room was a shared room, and he was paired up with another WWII vet, Mr. French. My grandfather wasn’t really too coherent at this point in his life, so I had more of a conversation going with Mr. French, who asked me essentially, “What do we need to do to get America back on track?”

At the time, I took the question at face value and offered a few thoughts, but it was a tough question to respond to, given its complexity and the history of the man who asked it.

Coming full circle, I was sitting out on my porch last night, racking some rounds through my new gun, and I had a deeper, sadder thought about that question and the man who asked it. I realized that here was a man who was willing to give his life for America, looking back at his life and looking at America as it now existed, and questioning what it was all for. I realized that for all the question’s simplicity, just how tragic it really was.

I don’t think Mr. French is around anymore. Neither are my grandfathers. But I hope that never again will a veteran have to look around at the country they were willing to die for and wonder if it would have been worth it.

September 11th galvanized us as a nation. We put American flag stickers on our cars, waved to our neighbors, and let people in front of us while we stood in line. Our brothers and sisters, sons and daughters had been taken from us and we stared bewildered because we didn’t know why.

Following the attack, it didn’t matter what color your skin was or your annual salary, if you were American, you were one of “us”, and in a time of great fear and grief, being one of “us” was part of what you needed to move on.

Now look at us. Torn to pieces, labeled by color, status, religion, politics, occupation. Arguing and fighting, yelling at each other over what? Who has more stuff? Who was born with the wrong skin color?

Open your eyes and look at the people who are fomenting this hatred, fabricating it out of thin air. They are the enemy, not your neighbor, not that guy on tv with more cars than you.

On this day, of all days, lower your fists, calm your voice, look at what you’ve become, what we have become. Then look at who has done this to us. It’s time to show the exit door to those who divide us. It’s time to become “us” again, and forever.

United We Stand