A Jew Complains: We Millenials

[Note from the Exec. Ed: “This article missed our own promotional deadline, a timetable of 9pm Pacific, because of issues with the Wi-Fi on the Left Coast (specifically Pismo Beach, California). That said, the delay is my fault and not that of Mr. Borger, who has written an excellent article chock full of scathing wit and generational observations. V/r, J.D. DeViney]

 

 

MillenialsWorldCloudBefore I go on blast, let me start off by giving my heart to the victims and families affected by the Pulse nightclub shooting in Orlando. In times like these we have to reach out to those in need and lend a helping hand. We can shed our tears, open our welcoming arms, and pay our respects to those we’ve lost. We must stand tall and not live in fear or anger. We must persist and eulogize what was and will always be the fondest of memories, those moments of growth and friendship, and only then can clarity lead to strength. 

As we reach the final primary of the Presidential race in DC, our fears have become reality. CNN and Fox News could’ve just given us a “spoiler” warning a year ago since both of the respective party nominees were obviously premeditated. We could’ve saved all the fear-mongering and confusion for this moment in history. As we look ahead to the DNC in July, the Dems are forced to believe in Hillary Clinton. HRCOr as I like to call her, Bill’s “Manager’s Special.” This may seem pompous, but I can’t like someone if I hate their face and I sincerely hate Hillary Clinton’s face. Now don’t get that twisted as a figure of speech brotatoes and bitchquicks, okay? I really, actually cannot stand the sight of Hillary Clinton’s expressive, breathing face. I never could. Also, on certain days, she looks way older than the day before. What is with that? Do time zones age her until she goes back to the time zone she is accustomed to? It’s creepy. Trump isn’t a pleasant tray of buttermilk biscuits either. Donald Trump looks like overcooked spaghetti that I am deathly allergic to. Yo J. Trump! I’ve seen your Gucci wife and I’m not impressed. Lord knows how many gardeners you employ illegally that she locks in her bathroom for a midnight snack. As far as ole Trumpet is concerned, he’s still a TV persona to me. Don’t get me wrong, he owns it. He has boosted CNN so incredibly high, after this election, CNN is gonna have to hire more creative directors and choreographers just to meet demand. The bar has been historically set, so unless Bernie Sanders and Wolf Blitzer form a live-on-air podcast entitled “Wolf Bern,” no ratings could ever match that of this year’s maternity ward. CNN will have to inevitably become the World Wrestling Entertainment of information television and I can see it now: CNEN. The Cable News Entertainment Network and it’ll cost you $10.99 to subscribe, but they recently pulled all of the Donald Trump Pay-Per-View matches and biographical content because of some choice racial words he said during his alleged sex tape. Sorry 80’s kids, no “Trump Drop” nostalgia off of the top rope today.

Look, I can always smell bullshit and it’s hard to distinguish political BS when deeply submerged in a cesspool of social pawns and corporate agendas. The people have been had. We are forced to swallow the assumption that racism is a common practice. Well, of course it is, but it shouldn’t be provoked or socially accepted as “the norm.” It’s a growing problem grazing the thin surface. We are forced to vote for Hillary because Trump is “so whack.” Newsflash, kids! Aren’t the strings visible now? Isn’t the elephant in the room in plain sight? Yes, the elephant is a Republican. Roll Tide. It is apparent that Trump was coldly calculated, like a chess piece, in order to King Hillary Clinton. A man who, a year ago, was running for president just to see how far he could go. It has been an utter freakshow because the Islamic State wasn’t scaring us into submission anymore. The notion of Trump becoming our next president sure raised our eyebrows, and by eyebrows I mean CNN’s ratings. All the fabricated hypocrisy defecated right there on our front porch to smell, and no matter how many voters claim that the [expletive deleted] stunk, the media continued to laugh and buy Donald Trump a brewski for the punchline. A little food for thought: Bernie fought a good fight, but it’s over. However, the revolution has just begun.

The argument now is prying the millenials off of the phrase, “a vote for a third party is a vote for Trump.” Sure. If that doesn’t prove my point that Trump is a pawn so that Hillary seems electable, I don’t know what is. This country would much rather elect an African American male then a Caucasian female. A country that has an equal voice meandering to an upper class that deals only in black and white, and an upper class society that pushes buttons on their prey to enact civil unrest and national division. We are red or blue and the people who’re in-betweens do not count. My vote is going to Governor Gary Johnson, as perhaps now is the time to vote third party. How is that for history? All he needs is 15% of the vote to deserve a spot on the debate floor. If 15% seems impractical to you, try to understand that the percentage of voters who finds Hillary or Trump unfavorable candidates for the presidency are more than double. Both presidential frontrunners are historically unfavorable. In fact, Internet polls show that both Trump and Hillary are either “strongly favorable” or “strongly unfavorable.” Talk about making history. Bravo, pavers of the way! People now will tell the Bernie backers to get behind Hillary as she takes on the master Celebrity Apprentice, while I ask you to step aside. They will tell you it’s over and if you don’t want to vote, then stay at home on your PlayStation 4. I ask you to march your ass into that voting center, as no vote at all is a vote for the establishment. The establishment resides in both Hillary and Trump, so be mindful of your defeat. If we back out now and let our bridges burn, all of our efforts are lost. We, the Millenials, must realize that the media is no longer our god. We are freethinking spirits draped in the ghosts of our founding fathers, atoned for by our logical thought and iron will and, furthermore, protected by the brave men and women who strive to keep us thinking freely. In that regard alone, we must stand tall and take what is ours.

Multiethnic Group of People Social Networking at Cafe
Multiethnic Group of People Social Networking at Café [STOCK PHOTO COURTESY OF BING]
The opportunity to make a stand happens now. It isn’t a long shot or a far-fetched solution conspired by fools. This is fool proof, because we are the power of this great nation. We are the Internet and we are the future. The powers that be are nothing more than a bank vault that desperately needs our endorsement and wallets to keep them on life support. They know we can pull the plug and they send their conspiracy journalists to strike fear into our bloggers and ambitious theologians. We are a plentiful force carved by youthful hands and we grow stronger by the second. For every lie they spew and every deception they [expletive deleted] out, we become the air they [expletive deleted] breathe. Voting third party is the solution for us Millenials. Let your parents and grandparents (who can’t figure out why the remote doesn’t work when it needs new batteries) vote how they want. Don’t let them take advantage of your independent mind. All I am asking is to use your power. Don’t sit back and watch the flames. Do not vote for Hillary simply because Trump is on the opposing side. No one voted for Ivan Drago because Rocky IS the American Hero. It’s a no-contest. Give Gary Johnson the opportunity to punch face. The worst that can happen is that the media blacks out the truth, so that our revolution will be nothing more than a footnote, a sneeze. So be it. At least we gave it our all and didn’t pack our bags when Bernie Sanders left the station.

Gonzo State: [Untitled]

“Victory is ‘The Absence of Defeat'”

“Bentley! Bentley. I suggest…I suggest that you do something different with your life right now.” This instruction was delivered by my boss (at the time) to his unruly Huskie, but it might as well have been given to my entire generation.

As always, the day had given way to night and my mind had wrestled with itself long enough. I needed sanctuary, strong drink and a blank expression with which to watch the news on screens behind the heads of the locals. With the mind of a fried pie I careened my car down a thoroughfare of an unincorporated town in West Virginia, roughly sixty miles from Washington D.C.

“Babylon,” I came to call D.C. as a Sailor stationed in Bethesda, which was appropriate enough that no one cares to question the nickname. It was by a sense of awe, despair, disgust and reverence that I came by it the hard way some years ago.

The Christmas lights around Arlington had shone brightly on my most sentimental evening, awash with history and the sort of romance that saw my Army counterpart’s cheek against mine, her words in my ear accompanied by my kiss on her neck.

Then, the other shoe dropped and zang! I’m departing the parking garage of Target near P.F. Chang’s, a sudden desperate attempt to keep a fellow servicemember alive and out of trouble, and barely having arrived in Rockville, Maryland, found myself in the company of a remarkable amount of police officers. While all was eventually sorted out (one way or another), I did discover that being handcuffed, face down on the pavement amidst a soft rain gave me an amazing opportunity to learn and reevaluate the nonsense I’d allowed a foothold in my life. “Teachable moments,” I’ve come to call such events with a wince oft confused for a smile, and rightfully so.

“It’s an acquired taste.”

Let no good deed go unpunished.

“It was all downhill from there,” I uttered to my glass and coaster on the bar, awaiting another potent haul of ethanol. “Or is it, ‘down on the bed’ from there? Not nearly as catchy.” The general uproar that passed for ambience as karaoke loomed large made my private social commentaries a non-factor.

“Hell,” I continued, mulling over the equal parts glory and horror of yesteryear, “if I was a woman they’d’ve labeled me a slut.” This was most certainly true, as I had responded to the eventual collapse of the genuine, heartmelting romance that blossomed in Arlington by carousing. I went on to live up to the archetype of heathen in the Navy, only I hadn’t needed a new port. D.C. had an endless supply of trysts for me to temporarily bind the wound of heartbreak with. I had largely imploded things with she myself, but damn the torpedoes and full speed ahead, aye?

“Aye, got it!” I said, louder than intended as my libation arrived. Few noticed, none cared. But I digress.

Every single horror of the corruption of public life crept its way into Walter Reed the two years I’d been there as the primary Army and Navy hospitals merged there in Maryland. It was a handful of miles from the epicenter of our Federal Republic, our Representative Democracy. Whatever label you prefer, the genuine, tender romance and the unnecessary legal crucible were equal parts of the same story.

So it was yesterday and is today and will be tomorrow. Wars and rumors of wars will abound along with the usual ugliness, while the bountiful opportunities, resplendence, and monuments sacred to America and Her Republic will ring hollow for any looking for that chapter. However, for those with a soul not set for self-destruct, there was the beauty and elegance and love that I discovered in Babylon. For my part, I vacillated between the cauldron of brutality and the essence of hallowed humanity.

Lucifer and a third of his fellow angels rebelled (at least in part) over the perception that God valued something fashioned from dirt over them; we hamstrung ourselves with our humanity during that time (2011-2013) in Bethesda, both our frailties and our strengths.

Did we make the case against humanity with our failures? I’m not so sure. The defeatism and Apocalypticism of the admittedly conflicted era that was the “new” Walter Reed circa 2011-2013 stands apart from now in several ways. Without the deflating drudgery of rattling them all off, at the very least one could look their friends and enemies in the eye. Betrayal and intrigue might be lurking around the next corner (per the modus operandi of Babylon and the government circuit as a whole) but those seeming eons ago politics was still the art of compromise. Then-POTUS Obama (D-IL) and then-House Speaker Boehner (R-OH) can hardly be soberly accused of engaging in the politics of blood sport we’ve now.

Now? Depending on their background, looking one’s enemies and/or friends in the eye might get you flagged on any number of social media platforms and could very well get you labeled with some sort of “-ism”, as one type of “-ist” or another. A whole decade ago Section 230 was applied within the spirit of its creation, lending the happenings online a sort of Wild West vibe when juxtaposed to the great cosmic gag-reel taking place now.

“What is Section 230?” one might ask. This, too, is a well-placed and unscripted question, but it makes little difference when Louis Farrakhan can spit his vile verbal excrement at hapless passerby on social media, but not Donald Trump. No, indeed. Hardly an avid defender of the former POTUS, I nonetheless present our Federal support and protections for our Silicon Valley overlords as Exhibit A for the how/why (either/and/or) the Federal Communications Commission has adequate pretext to cry foul. This is tantamount to “collateral censorship”, or censorship by proxy. That’s the biggest item George Orwell didn’t foresee in my favorite novel, “1984”: private enterprise conducting the censorship, and not the state itself.

Since I’ve likely lost anyone who hates The Donald for my defending his First Amendment rights, I might as well toss a grenade in this burgeoning dumpster fire. Wouldn’t Joe Manchin lead off that way?

“The wind only blows sometimes.” “He’s exactly right!”

While hardly the binary option both the Communists of the Far Left and the Fascists of the Far Right want all the Sheeple to give an “Amen!” and believe, the conflict between being a John Locke liberal in favor of largely laissez-faire capitalism (not the crony kind) with a strong, (but) limited Federal government and in wanting a respectable return on our investment in Section 230 protections granted Silicon Valley (and company), it is amusing on a perverse level.

“Afterall,” I told myself, “everyone hates a centrist, so you might as well enjoy it, Jack. The good news is, only White elitists are storming off after closing your column a few paragraphs back. They can kick rocks. There’s surely a Mother Jones article or athletic mutant defecating on the very flag that enables their miserable existence out there, somewhere, that they can flee to. Still miserable, but they showed me! No First Amendment for the people who make us think and shit.”

It was only at the end of this paragraph that I realized I wasn’t just thinking this as I tapped it into a note on my phone for later insertion into this very diatribe. I was muttering much of it out loud.

“Ignore the madness of a world that has made this swashbuckler appear normal. Ignore the celebutante-rejects aghast at those not absorbed in Chinese spyware ‘social’ apps available on any mainstream App Store.”

And why not? Afterall, the Communists now want the populace to swallow the latest swill their Thought Police have puked out, and nod slowly, basking in the wisdom of the notion that Black children being taught mathematics is racist. Conversely, the Fascists want the citizenry at-large to embrace their latest, unintelligible Reductio Ad Absurdum that beating cops to a pulp while shouting racist terms at the non-White officers is okay as long as they’re patriots. Thin Blue Line and all. “Thin Blue Line”, you ingrates? Put the straw down.

“In God We Trust.” Mhmm.

“Dear God Almighty,” I mumbled into my Long Island Iced Tea, nearly gone due to the urgent need to anesthetize myself. No reply, and not because He wants us to forget He exists, but because it’s the pizza we ordered, and it has arrived with all the trappings. Whose fault is that?

The lunacy in the former example is in those on the Far Left who by proxy think the Black intellect is so dormant, psyche so timid, that there need be no Black doctors, economists, engineers, et cetera, in the future. Mathematics is a rather integral part of the process of those career paths. Who’s holding who back with racist ideology again, exactly?

The madness in the latter example is at least as vivid and particularly poignant from people on the Far Right who think cops can do no wrong. You say The Filth went too far in Example X? “I say they didn’t go too far enough!” some neo-Successionist will bleat with the fervor of a patriot, by God. Just a patriot to another country, and not this one. But why quibble about it? Sure, seems reasonable enough to pass muster on “Squidbillies.”

Imitation being the highest form of flattery, the method to the unorthodoxy of this publication has never been less necessary. Both extremes in the sadly binary world of Castro and Mussolini neophytes demand the long-term vision, the sort of engaging in politics (again, “The Art of Compromise”) as a year-round endeavor that there is no app or “hack” for. The marathon, not the sprint, is what is at hand. I’d rather flatter the Edward Brooke III, the Alexander Hamilton, the Barbra Streisand, the Hunter S. Thompson and even the Master Shake with imitation than embrace the intellectual suicide of either Irredeemable America or Exceptional American Unilateralism.

Whichever clown car takes the stage from either extremist wing of discourse, they both will assure us that we’d feel so much better if only we’d embrace their brand of groupthink. Tsk, tsk, I know, but such is the rot of the putrescence we’ve inexplicably opted to wallow in.

“Soylent Green is people.”

What both teams of malcontents mean is we’ll feel much better carrying all of our favorite shows with us on all of our devices as they continue embezzling and funneling money to the duopoly in Babylon. The royalty on Capitol Hill will then reward our wholehearted faith with continued malignant governance and further insolvency on every level (social, fiscal, geopolitical, et al).

“Who knows?” I mumbled with a shrug. “With any luck, the dead will walk again and we’ll have an existential reason to disallow the Neanderthals in Congress from fucking the same coconut over and over while saying they’re carrying out the people’s business. All, naturally, with a straight face. And pursed lips. Can’t forget the ‘duck face.’ Gotta meet my fellow Millennials halfway.”

“You say something, Hun?”

The bartender had taken notice of my glass being devoid of strong drink, and grew concerned. Animals entering sexual congress with fruit, however, passed muster.

‘Of course it did,’ I thought, but could only reply with a low rasp as I exited my barstool.

“Yes, Ma’am. Check please.”

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Six Degrees of Knowin’ Nothin’: [Untitled]

And on the 8th day, God made bears. Lots and lots of bears.

Does this era need introduction? Or, rather, may a suitable introduction be written? I report, you deride.

1: In any rational era, the sudden appearance of lurid photographs of well-known public figures tends to happen without the consent of those captured in the images. Jennifer Lawrence, Kate Upton, Anthony Weiner, et al. Notable exceptions to this are of the celebutante variety who sport last names such as Hilton and Kardashian, but then, their deliberate release of self-incriminating material isn’t indicative of a rational era.

That there’s a Stairway to Heaven but a Highway to Hell is indicative of expected traffic volume.

The great Jerry Falwell, Jr., well his undeniable greatness as an Evangelical Christian minister and university president is so ineffable, so vast, that he was no longer able to be confined by any notion of modern decency. If that’s still a thing, that is. Either way, the photograph posted containing the erstwhile head of Liberty University (and descendent of the late and decent Jerry Falwell) is disturbing on several counts. Let’s take a look:

Now, I’m not sure if it’s the ghastly attempt at humor (yeah, “black water”, haw haw haw!), the self-caricature of the gut and the unzipped pants combined with the awful rug on his counterpart (who is not his wife, for those keeping score at home), the fact that students of said Evangelical university get expelled for drinking and/or extra-marital sexual encounters, or that this wasn’t a leak at all that makes this such a disgrace. He could’ve just said it was a faux Black Dog in his glass and been done with it.

The man (so-called) “leaked” it via his own social media aperture, and then delivered a truly abysmal mockery of an apology on-air, and I quote: “I’ve promised my kids I’m going to try to be…I’m gonna try to be a good boy from here on out.” Rock and Roll, Jerry!

Oh and Mrs. Falwell, when your marriage does end, remember: you [expletive deleted] your rebound, and that’s it. You don’t permanently abscond from reality and keep [expletive deleted] them long-term and/or marry them. Especially, I might add, if you plucked them from the extras of “The Walking Dead.”

Silly me. But seriously, though: booze and Evangelicals and social media shouldn’t mix.

2: At times, the headlines write themselves. In their own attempt to swing loose with reality, as it were, Iran has a fabricated aircraft carrier resembling one of those wielded by the United States Navy. “Why”, you ask? An entirely unscripted and well-placed question. For their own propaganda purposes that is, until the entire experiment blew up in their faces. Living out their own version of “delirium tremens”, Iran was so successful in this charade that their accidental destruction of a prop US Navy aircraft carrier poses a threat to a major thoroughfare in the oil trade. Posing an existential threat to traffic in the Strait of Hormuz, and things apparently unbeknownst to Iran such as tides can shift the wreckage, endangering oil tankers.

Give the Ayatollah our best. Speaking of “the best”, if you’re going to challenge the world’s preeminent naval power, you’d better come correct. The Battle of Evermore this is not.

3: Biden must face Trump in debate(s). Yes, it’s answering a “double dog dare” from the POTUS and no, you don’t want to give in to the whims of a bully. But if you don’t follow through then it looks like you’re hiding in a basement and afraid to face Donald J. Trump on the stage. What’s the worst that could happen? They then “triple dog dare” one another to a lindy hop dance-off to the “Misty Mountain Hop” or hand out four sticks (one to both members of each ticket) to swing with? Why would you be afraid of that if you’re in the Biden camp unless, per the Trump camp’s assertions, the former Vice President will be unable to remember whether he’s going to California, or another, “y’know, the thing” that the Founding Fathers said? The great equalizer is the human ego. They’ll debate.

This is an event waiting to go wrong. Don’t hang out with bears. [image credit to Daily Caller & Barstool Sports]
4: Meanwhile, the National Park Service has posted a warning urging American adventurers not to confront bears but, if they do, to not take advantage of their slower companions. And no, this is not made up. Nor is the response of a pack of humans, recently, to a bear arriving in their midst. They didn’t flee or otherwise attempt to discourage the bear; instead they took pictures of their merry band whilst feeding the bear. Good call, ‘Murica.

5: Bill Barr’s appearance was a disgrace for everyone except the Attorney General. For committee chairman Nadler, to open the hearing with that statement was an outrage; and Jordan, thanks for the monologue on things that happened before Barr was back on the job and for God’s sake put your damn coat on!

6: Stat of the Week: the POTUS’ campaign is knocking on 1 million doors a week; the former VPOTUS’ camp is knocking on 0. As in ZERO. Z-E-R-O. This sort of nonsense only seems like nonsenseuntil the time when the levee breaks. Underestimate the mad media genius of The Donald at your peril.

Y’know what? Let’s just cancel everything. If everything’s priority one, then nothing is priority one.
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Contrast: Black Lives Matter v. All Lives Matter (et al)

Black Lives Matter: Let’s cut through the fat together, shall we? Yes or yes? Good. With that, we have a problem in America. Several, actually. We live in a police state, for one thing, and for another, paramount now, is said police state taking a particular interest in African Americans.

Let’s also consider the unbelievable, highly-classified powers of FISA courts to spy unopposed on our own people without their knowledge indefinitely, the ability of the Federal government to suspend the Constitutional rights of American citizens suspected of terrorism via the Patriot Act and the inexplicable repeal of the Smith-Mundt Act (which forbade the Federal Government from using propaganda on American soil). Are you drinking what I’m pouring?

With no malice in my heart toward the many fine police officers across the land (a few I’ve known personally), I say again: we live in a police state.

Over the past decade alone, we have seen increasing examples of the use of excessive force on a disproportionate number of black Americans. Data clearly shows that Whites compose 76.5% of America’s citizenry while Blacks make up 13.4% of it, the former were shot to death by police 370 times versus 235 for the latter.

For those who want to bring out FBI data displaying prevalence of crime amongst inner city black neighborhoods, recall the negligible difference in drug use between whites and blacks and the parity in gun culture between the two.

America glorifies violence, and that crosses ethnic lines. Don’t believe me? Look at what I call “Dollar Voting”, in essence, what we value and spend our money on. What does our art and culture reflect? If we’re being real, it ain’t peace. Does hip hop culture lend itself to violence? Listen to the top ten hits of the genre and get back to me; but before you get back to me, let me know what Johnny Cash, Waylon Jennings, Jerry Reed and “The Dukes of Hazzard” were all about while you’re at it.

As for the movement itself, “Black Lives Matter” is driving home a simple point: yes, every house in the neighborhood matters but only one of them is on fire.

We hardly need a hashtag for Blue (Police) Lives Matter; they roam about largely unopposed, vested with a badge and lethal weaponry, and we provide a safety net (union, pension, et cetera) and, in general, blanket support to include the high probability that bad actors aren’t held accountable in court.

All Lives Matter? Do they? Maybe I’d be more decisive in answering these questions if every new episode of “Death By Cop” didn’t always star a black man.

– Jack DeViney

*************

 

New Orleans Police Department preps for ongoing confrontation and protest throughout downtown.

All Lives Matter(?): Two things can be true at once. In fact, very few things in our world are mutually exclusive of themselves. One can, for example, be in favor of the events in the George Floyd case never happening again and find the phrase “Black Lives Matters” offensive. They are not mutually exclusive. Both can be true. This depends on your definitions of words. Words matter. Words have meaning. Facts matter. Facts have meaning.

If by any definition, one is not a racist, but they will not stand shoulder to shoulder with Black Lives Matter signs, or they won’t kneel down in front of a mob of protestors, they become….what? Insensitive? Divisive?

To be true to this point, I believe “All Lives Matter” or “Blue Lives Matter” are equally asinine. We don’t protest on things we agree upon. We don’t stand outside and shout “the sky is blue”!

Are things worse now than the mid-1960’s? Or do we see public discord in 3D now? We report, you deride.

The assertion that a black man can not step from his home without fear of imminent death from a racist ‘Mericuh is as equally preposterous as the media’s “1619” narrative that America is as systemically racist as at any time in our history. Really? Where’s the poll of young, black men asking them if they’d rather live in 1865, 1965 or 2020? I must’ve missed that astute revelation.

Instead of regurgitated statistics that the left/media refuse to acknowledge anyway, how about we come at this from a novel approach. [So] what is your suggestion? I mean, with all of the statistics stating the exact opposite of your point, what are we doing wrong? Are our hiring standards too low? Is training being swept aside to fast-track officers onto beats? Do we provide immunity to officers that is unnecessary and counter-productive? Let’s get to the “nut cutting” as they say.

If we want to turn this into another narrative where the right just refuses to admit there is a substantial issue and is instead hiding behind years of conservative practices…show me! Where are the statistics that support any of this nonsense? That show America is systemically racist and prejudiced against black Americans? Where are the politicians that you are particularly citing as responsible for these aggressions? Or is it just “orange man bad”, with his “basket of deplorables”?

“You’re killing your father, Larry!”

Once again, the left/media have overplayed their hands. We were told millions of Americans would die if we didn’t shut the world down indefinitely. Now if you have a small business and want to re-open smartly so that you don’t lose everything, you’re killing grandma! We were told that if we would just allow LGBT marriages, all examples of bigotry would be history. Now if you’re a Millennial male that won’t go out with a trans-woman (a man by all scientific facts and definitions), you’re a homophobe! And now, if you won’t march to the beat of this drum, well, you’re just a racist. Or worse, an “Uncle Tom.”

It’s tiring. It’s divisive. It’s unnecessary. This issue is one we must agree on, or we don’t have a country. You cannot have law and order if one group is being systematically hunted down and killed by those sworn to protect us.

Facts matter. Statistics matter. Two things can be true at once.

– Michael R. DeViney, Jr.

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