Revisiting Ron Paul's 2004 House-Floor Speech Calling For Disbanding NATO, or, How We All Got Schlonged

 

 On March 30, 2004 - just over 19 years ago, then-Representative Ron Paul (R-TX) concluded a United States House of Representatives statement with a strong admonition regarding the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) and US involvement in it.

 

Read Paul’s 2004 statement here:

Mr. Speaker, I rise in opposition to this resolution. I do so because further expansion of NATO, an outdated alliance, is not in our national interest and may well constitute a threat to our national security in the future.

More than 50 years ago the North Atlantic Treaty Organization was formed to defend Western Europe and the United States against attack from the communist nations of Eastern Europe. It was an alliance of sovereign nations bound together in common purpose — for mutual defense. The deterrence value of NATO helped kept the peace throughout the Cold War. In short, NATO achieved its stated mission. With the fall of the Soviet system and the accompanying disappearance of the threat of attack, in 1989—1991, NATO’s reason to exist ceased. Unfortunately, as with most bureaucracies, the end of NATO’s mission did not mean the end of NATO. Instead, heads of NATO member states gathered in 1999 desperately attempting to devise new missions for the outdated and adrift alliance. This is where NATO moved from being a defensive alliance respecting the sovereignty of its members to an offensive and interventionist organization, concerned now with "economic, social and political difficulties…ethnic and religious rivalries, territorial disputes, inadequate or failed efforts at reform, the abuse of human rights, and the dissolution of states," in the words of the Washington 1999 Summit.

And we saw the fruits of this new NATO mission in the former Yugoslavia, where the US, through NATO, attacked a sovereign state that threatened neither the United States nor its own neighbors. In Yugoslavia, NATO abandoned the claim it once had to the moral high ground. The result of the illegal and immoral NATO intervention in the Balkans speaks for itself: NATO troops will occupy the Balkans for the foreseeable future. No peace has been attained, merely the cessation of hostilities and a permanent dependency on US foreign aid.

The further expansion of NATO is in reality a cover for increased US interventionism in Europe and beyond. It will be a conduit for more unconstitutional US foreign aid and US interference in the internal politics of member nations, especially the new members from the former East.

It will also mean more corporate welfare at home. As we know, NATO membership demands a minimum level of military spending of its member states. For NATO’s new members, the burden of significantly increased military spending when there are no longer external threats is hard to meet. Unfortunately, this is where the US government steps in, offering aid and subsidized loans to these members so they can purchase more unneeded and unnecessary military equipment. In short, it is nothing more than corporate welfare for the US military industrial complex.

The expansion of NATO to these seven countries, we have heard, will open them up to the further expansion of US military bases, right up to the border of the former Soviet Union. Does no one worry that this continued provocation of Russia might have negative effects in the future? Is it necessary?

Further, this legislation encourages the accession of Albania, Macedonia, and Croatia — nations that not long ago were mired in civil and regional wars. The promise of US military assistance if any of these states are attacked is obviously a foolhardy one. What will the mutual defense obligations we are entering into mean if two Balkan NATO members begin hostilities against each other (again)?

In conclusion, we should not be wasting US tax money and taking on more military obligations expanding NATO. The alliance is a relic of the Cold War, a hold-over from another time, an anachronism. It should be disbanded, the sooner the better.

In 2012, Ron Paul's bid for the Republican Presidential nominee was abruptly stymied.
At the convention that year, the tally was close enough to broker the convention - maintain enough delegate's votes to break the front runner's advantage of pre-assigned delegates, and subsequently, sweep up enough support from those unhindered in choice to win the nomination in extra ballots. 

After a voice vote over a last minute rule change to block Dr. Paul, the motion overwhelmingly rejected in the Dr.'s favor, the Convention chairman instead recited,  "the ayes have it" , reading each word directly from a teleprompter.

Angry shouting and calls for order broke out in the stadium with other calls for point of order. An abuse of Parliamentary Procedure had just been blatantly exposed on national television! More booing and cat calls turned the agenda into havoc.

It was to no avail. The chairman simply ignored the protests, adjourned the meeting, and turning his back on the assemblage, then walked, unrepentant, directly the off stage.

The only real anti-war candidate in 50 years had just been bamboozled.


So, what's next? Without a doubt, every western leader, led by the US' unelected, Neo-Con faction currently domineering all US foreign policy, is in a collaboration to prolong Ukraine's ten years of civil war against the domination of its own citizens.  The eventual goal is to incite a world war with Russia, which is currently involved enforcing UN resolution 2202 that would allow the Ukraine's disabused population the right to autonomy and self-representation. Since 2014, 20,000 of those men, women and children have been assassinated with the aid and knowledge of the conspirators.

The end game, without listing other factors, most likely means the dissolution of the United States as a country within the next ten years. That is, the USA will lose any endeavor to conquer the rest of the world. It should outlast the EU, however, by some good measure. They have destroyed their own bond market already.

The interim? This is gonna hurt. Might even leave a mark. Bandit may just earn his name. At least it won't be dull.

Carl Bernstein

winter withering --
I wonder if Carl Bernstein
knits his own ties?

blank

冷たい風と雪、地図上の空白スペース







cold wind
and blowing snow --
a blank space on the map


` * * * * * `

November :: yotsumono

November --
countless raindrops to measure
the length of a day

a veil of frost
tints Johari's window

ranks of children
prone and obedient
to a flickering image

Lebensraum
a none too distant dream



` ` ;;;;;

10-10-10: ( redux redux redux ... )

hip hop sounds
bang around the cluttered porch,
scale the dark, rattle the blinds -
maples leaves and falling rain

hard times -
crows worrying
roadkill

just milling about
in blue, neon light -
last of the fireflies

10-10-10



Her voice echoed down the alley, bouncing off the buildings, loud in the crisp air. Once strident and accusatory, now pleading, bemoaning the hour, the situation, a bit more aggressive. Shutting the walk-up loft's battered door carefully behind him, he quickened his pace. She was holding her own. He wondered when she would contradict herself. As though it mattered.

"Ma'am. We're just saying there have been complaints."

A man's voice. It carried a warning. He was becoming annoyed. The three chevrons on his sleeve heaved and roiled, biceps flexing nervously, the blue cloth barely restraining them.  Behind where he stood two squads cars waited in the little parking space. Just beyond the altercation beginning to unfold, hidden from the view of passersby, lay a respite of sorts.  

Tucked into a notch between buildings, its few humble features remained relatively undisturbed, placed with care and an eye for design. Two worn but sturdy benches flanked a huge circular picnic table with seats attached, liberated from the back of the bar next door. During a somewhat drunken debauch of self-righteousness, it had been rolled away in broad daylight. There it stood at odd angles to three wooden planters with found weeds inside, strains of native prairie plants a thousand years old, seeds carried on a jet stream.

From a Shepard's hook in a corner hung a bird feeder and chimes, a place to store ladders and other implements on the opposite. Always at the ready, a cooking grill stood in the center. Neat and orderly as any English garden, a border of Perennials completed the scene. The tiny oasis belied the bleakness of the neighborhood's meager prospects. It was a sanctuary literally carved out of the asphalt.

  Humming and clicking as they cooled, the police cars squatted menacingly, paint schemes in black and white a stark contrast to the gold insignias like badges on each door. The constant babble of radioed dispatches emitted unintelligible commands to anyone more than a few feet distant. Adding to the cacophony, strobe lights flashing red and blue, every surface of worn Chicago brick bedazzled without mercy.

  She seemed oblivious to the danger despite this tension. "Or is she", he thought? He couldn't be sure even now. Implacably forceful or subtly benign, her moods could stymie him. At times it made him want to retreat. Walking out quietly, sometimes he did, or to go for a drive. He would jump on the trampoline with her other times. She could engage on an uncomfortably personal level, arguing every point impossible somehow, total strangers or her beloveds, until he forgot how it started. It didn't often matter, since both were adult children of alcoholics, or was it a peculiarity of the neighborhood?

Two more officers lingered in the shadows, chattering quietly like bored observers watching a ballgame.

"Why can't we enjoy our birthdays! It's just a little party!" Her speech slurred slightly. " It's 10-10-10!"

  As though explaining to the dullest of children, she enunciated with an emphasis of particular stridency, tangential or not, sibilants less distinct with each phrase.

"We can't even celebrate our birthdays?!" She repeated dates and numbers to anybody who might be listening.

Closer now, he inhaled and breathed out, slowed his walk, willing himself a compliant posture. Making sure to stay in the light, he held both hands open and in plain sight.

Nearing the end of his patience, the Sargeant's voice took on a darker tone.

"Ma'am, we've been called out twice. Next time, somebody's going down." He wasn't having any circular arguments. The warning had been directed at the both of them.

The husband directed his gaze at his wife only and smiled.

"What'cha doin', hon? Gettin' into a fight with the cops?" like berating a little girl, he continued, calmly yet each word with the slightest emphasis.

"I just took the dogs in now. We're all goin' in - right now."

Both promise and order, an offer of compliance to the Sargeant, feigned admonishment to his wife. Surely she knew how to respond? The situation had turned serious.

He'd been in a similar situation years earlier and only a few blocks away. Like this one, it started with the neighbors and a noise complaint raising someone's ire.  Subsequently, a radio turned too loud set off a chain of events uncommon to a local noise ordinance. With the right set of personality traits any situation can escalate from the ridiculous to sublime. Involving police contact, in an instant a right horror show.

The complainant was known to the police department as a serial caller to 911 who placed grievances against the officers responding if she felt slighted or deemed "enforcement" was lacking.
The lady of that house where the call was made on became belligerent enough to be put under arrest. A guest, practically a stranger, inexplicably jumped up and assaulted one officer.

Calls went out for back up. Stuck in a no man's land, the husband went to ground when an officer stuck his fingers in his eyes from behind. Eerily calm, he complimented the effectiveness of the hold. This earned him curses, boots and a tasing he didn't even feel, so involved was he in the wonder of police tactics.

Sixteen officers responded to the call in all, a few were acquaintances from the tavern they'd both frequent. A vehement argument broke out with the first officers on the scene. Fisticuffs broke out in the middle of the street. None of this appeared on the record. A witness later quipped the scene resembled sharks at a kill.

What had set off this misfortune? The husband told his wife to get in the house. His voice attracted the attention of an angry Lieutenant on scene. He then gave chase to the wife who managed to elude him. She locked the screen door behind her and then taunted him through the screen as he commanded her to come out. The husband eluded three tackles before his capture.

Many years later, they both understood the other's most subtle gestures. As if on cue, respond she did.

Abruptly turning on her heel, she marched off in the opposite direction. Her arms and elbows apace with her gait, it appeared as though to make a last stand in the garden cul de sac. For the briefest of moments he looked after her not sure what to do.

Well aware that pursuit of this one could lead in many unexpected directions, he remained still. Quietly, he observed her gamine walk, so compelling and graceful, a rare species in retreat, the insides of her long wrists exposed and turned slightly askew.

For whatever odd reason, the strains of a familiar love song came to him. Maybe a chord from a car stereo passing on Highway 61 set it off. This conjured up a picture, a gathering of people your Mother wouldn't approve of, its melody lilting, an old standard Norteno style, lyrics evoking casual friendships become intense affairs and grown more entwined than bargained for. An odd exhilaration overcame him then, reckless and inviting, shivering up his spine. He exhaled quickly, like stifling an errant laugh during a sermon in church. His humor was doubtlessly irreverent, however.

At that moment she, too, was overcome. Her voice was always one that carried. Nor did it go unnoticed this time. an obscene insult hung precariously in the crisp, night air, taunting as an errant curve ball. And in that instant the situation changed. Authority had been breached. Egos were at stake. A determination had to be made. This ball was about to be smacked out of the park.

Throughout the shift the young cop riding shotgun beside the Sargeant remained quiet and motionless. Therefore he was unnoticed. Slumped in the car seat as he was, he was able to observe without being seen, a tactic he'd learned during two tours in Afghanistan and the Mid East. He'd also learned the art of ambush, training extensively in assault tactics, before transfer to a Police unit attached to JSOC. A stranger in a strange land, he'd guarded and arrested foreigners and friendlies alike; even stood patrol over some peculiarly questionable fields of native crops.

Mostly, his duties were apprehensions involving rapid, fully armed actions against unknown targets. The bulk were turkey walks, fully equipped squadrons against one or two unarmed suspects, actions Blackwater and other unnamed mercenary units wouldn't or couldn't handle.

On his discharge he'd locked in a police department job within just a few weeks. This was his 6th actual duty night out, and he was bored to death. Like the sound of a starter's gun, his demeanor burst from quiet watcher to angry agitation.

"What did you say, Ma'am?!" No response. "Wait a minute - come back here!"

The last order barked with command. He'd had enough posh talk - any patience he'd learned on this job had suddenly regressed to tactical training and muscle memory.

Barely able to wrest control, the weary Sargeant looked ready to stand down and let the excited rookie run with it. But, in his haste, the newbie had locked himself in the car. He hadn't learned to be a good Jump Out Boy yet, tackling unassuming pedestrians with a leap out of a moving SUV from behind tinted windows. Robbed of this exhilaration, he cursed his inattention and fumbled with the handle.

The husband still hadn't moved. He lingered as though in deep contemplation, then eyeing his wife's retreat, seemingly unaware of the forces gathering around him. Actually, struck by the incongruity and happenstance, he marveled at the chain of events that had led to that point in time, its escalation and Absurdity.

In his position to "agree" with the new recruit and stand down would be the safest course. He felt the aggravation in his voice and the menace below its surface. His funds were low and bail for two would be impossible on short notice. The country was still in a Recession. The multi-billion dollar industry of fraud carried on unabated. He lived by his wits and his craft, breadwinner an anachronism, building a name for himself in the Black Economy at worst.

Who would want to spend the weekend in jail anyway? You could get roughed up in the process - he'd heard the stories of the trip up the isolated jailhouse elevator. The memory inherent in unchecked authority washed over him like an icy blackness. Sighing inaudibly, he gathered himself as the young cop flung open the door. He turned, with a smile, and then spoke.

"Ahhh, she's just had too much to drink is all." 

Mockingly penitent, delivered like some country bumpkin. He scuffed the toe of his boot along the pavement, for emphasis, which placed him squarely to block the squad car's door.

Short of leering, his grin widened, a little over the top but for a lack of concern in his eye. The display distracted the young cop. He hadn't trained quite this way. He'd certainly never been confronted so.

The husband's body language reverted to a cat taking pleasure in teasing a mouse.

" ... gee, officer - guess I better get control of my bitch."


each in turn,
the crickets all go silent -
Autumn's voice



` ` ` ;;;;;

Harvest Festival-
new faces parade viewing
marching out the old

morning glories
cling to an awning -
a squall past,
frayed and tattered

liquor stores, convenience marts and geese departing

under surveillance -
some stragglers here,
hungry sparrows there

in full view of the milky way -
she says somethin' dirty
that makes me laugh













on lotus leaves
this world's dewdrops
are warped

-Issa, 1819

http:/xula.edu/issa//cat.

Reefer Madness

We stood around and laughed, making jokes and piling derision on some cops in Missouri today. They'd posted on their Facebook timeline news of a "raid" on a rural field somewhere, claiming a major bust of a marijuana growing operation. They had to pull the post down after it was pointed out by numerous commentators the illicit material they posed next to in their photo op was was in fact cannabis ruderalis - Hemp plant. A big to do over nothing; it grows wild all across the country still, since the day hemp was a commonly accepted commodity, self-seeding illicit patches and spurring controversy from time to time.

Sometime after Prohibition, prior to the Red Scare and the inception of the Central Intelligence Agency, a rabble rousing lobby in Government made it into a boogieman to be persecuted and controlled. So successful was the campaign that most have forgotten its beneficial beginnings. Mention it now and our conditioning compels us to associate it only with criminal behavior.

A number of us began to share stories of our encounters with marijuana, criminal, bumbling, with intent or just by chance, swapping lies and tall tales in a friendly competition of sorts. Some of the stories were more incredulous than others, while none spoke of its uses in industry. some of the more odd confrontations addressed culture as well, due its relation to the outlawed strains that put so many in jeopardy with the law.

We had a plant growing by our back door when we were very young and living on our own. It went eleven feet tall if not more. Just for a joke we threw some seeds down from the stoop to land next to a small garden. This was a result along with a handful of specimens of varying sizes surrounding it.

The cops had to visit one day - East Side was always poppin' - responding to some call or other. I was always the front man, so came out to address them in my best schmooze. And there, over my right shoulder, stood the giant sweet leaf, fully expanded in the high southern sun, its stench and stalk rising from grade to far above the deck where I stood. The lead cop looked at me and then looked right at Weedzilla but didn't say a word. I didn't move a muscle.

The state went on to charge possession with a misdemeanor eventually, a $100 ticket' essentially. Seems like pretty reasonable legislation to me.

Some made mention of more harrowing experiences, about society and lawlessness, the politicization of an issue, of the militarization of police and their training and mindset towards the public. Others reminisced about their lives growing up in various regions, revealing an homogeneity of experience, its changes, and what they might portend.

You could pick Minnesota Green from down by the tracks all day long. The first of its seeds fallen off plant material loaded on the passing cars, hemp for the war effort, and for industry and export. The country's breadbasket brought all it's production here, across the plains to The Great Woods, the northern most port on the Mississippi and a city of thieves, the most boring town in America.

A million freight cars must have passed through here in its heyday. Even now, if one has his wits about him, where ever you are, night or day, you soon will hear the train's echo down any street, through every nook and alley.

I complain a lot about this place. I wonder what it will look like in ten years?


Harvest moon --
halcyon days
in Rivertown



;;;;

"To bring the AUMF to an end, "the public has got to speak out, organize, and mobilize," Lee

https://www.commondreams.org/news/2017/09/13/endless-war-continues-senate-kills-effort-repeal-2001-authorization

Labor Day

a wild rose rests
atop a little picket fence --
Labor Day

Statement On Passage of AUMF Amendment - July 2, 2017

(click image to enlarge)



Simply amazing! What a month, a week ... ! I read this news and nearly couldn't believe it - I am still stunned by this move. Maybe because there were no notices given about it. Not in my back yard, it wasn't. Not in the news. Why not? Always, consider the source.

I returned to Facebook last week, too, you know. I'd been away a long time, a real gone cat. Throughout the past election I'd tired of the drone - the righteous vicissitude and malleability of opinion changing with each catchphrase the narrators of thought externalized, straight from the script, some of it so shrill you'd almost beg for the promise of reprieve and embrace the lockstep of Newspeak and its ascension. I was a hairsbreadth from just chucking it all in. I can see why some retreat to the taciturn safety of ignorance - I was even screamed at for agreeing with a person's position - did I detect a lack of concentration? Seemed Pavlovian to me. There was one person who I could actually debate these questions with, but even he seemed under the spell of some strange enchantment. Or, he was being paid. I didn't realize that many professors moonlighted.

Now's a good time to read up on subjects (or expand your list) and come up with some real answers - not meandering in and out of the page when it suits you or when argument demands clarification and inspection. Science is not achieved by projecting a sense of authority or indignation. At least, test your theories first. You don't know where I've been or what others have suffered - suffering, perhaps, the best teacher of all.

I returned, not to "cavort", mind you - after familiarizing myself with it, in short order I'd considered my Facebook account to be nothing more than a tool for promotion - I went back to infiltrate. How so? I would create a trend. A new meme; one with a hashmark, #, applicable to twitter, no strain on the nervous system or its ability to be comprehended, just a comforting conformity - pronounce "meme" out loud and tell me I'm wrong - with a gentle premise: #PostForPeace I would become an agent among provocateurs. You see, I'd gotten my hands dirty before.

Yes - my scheme - to manipulate public opinion. I'd tried it before, but in a direct manner. After awhile of that, no one wished to engage me. Seems they didn't care much for factual statement, or didactic prose for that matter. Too dry. Most don't have general knowledge beyond a gloss or headline anyway. What they did respond to was emotion, and, being part of a "concern" - a sort of like minded righteousness - at that. Ample opportunity to study the phenomenon - popular posts receive the most replies and encouragement, political posts ranked equally for being contentious, if you chose a "side", off the chart, others mining friends by the thousands - I decided to mimic it, shamelessly, with similar zeal.

Nothing better to do - the group of writers I came to join didn't write - I settled on using guile to skew the message, to interject subtle, repetitive information and claim it was knowledge, add some misdirection if necessary, gathering mindless followers (five in the first five minutes) along the way to display my propaganda until I had a million hits - advancing, in my opinion, my ultimate goal for an anarchic vision . . #AUMF . Authorization for the Use Military Force.

Well, some people think it anarchic. It simply doesn't follow the Narrative currently in play. I think it a means to gain citizen involvement in decision making, actually, if you're smart enough to take what's rightfully yours. A means to find peace, if we were ever so lucky to pass it. What is it, exactly?

A return to Congress' original constitutional duty; to debate and determine who is our enemy, threatening our lives and existence here at home, or, as has been for 16 years ongoing without, "who is the ghost out in the hall?" The boogieman. The false flag, good guy/bad guy vilification, the means to bully, seize and/or co-opt any opposition to our Military/Security complex, raking in your tax dollars, hand over fist, while robbing weaker nations for the stuff that they think they "Need" - with the aid of some past colonial masters at times, a malcontent agenda, and some arm twisting to drive them. The Coalition - old King Leopold would be proud. What's to stop them? The Commission, you'd reply - isn't the Commission just a buffer between the people and the the King? It isn't, or never has been, a tribunal, it's decisions only ceremonial in nature. When was the last time it supported restraint in things of a military nature? His Majesty or Uncle Sam, those are your current choices. Assuming anybody's actually taken notice.

You might argue "But there's still the movement", There is no Peace Movement - not here anyway. No. Don't kid yourself. 1970, maybe. Don't try to argue. You'll lose.

An unadulterated Peace Movement doesn't exist in the USA. Oh, you could go stand on a bridge somewhere, chatting and signaling your virtue on a cardboard sign. I know this, mulled it over and chewed on it for awhile - considered the viability of the energy behind it, and the capacity to escalate it, get beyond the noise of the "thinkers" with elaborate theories all too willing to espouse them, and combine with other organizations, the disabled vets, the nurse's organizations (noted for their solidarity in advancing medical insurance causes), preferably with track records of "action" - until I spit it back out. Time was wasted. Time was lost trying to find one organization not bent on advancing its tenuous connections to social issues or an underlying political agenda.

Barring that agony, there was direct activism. I've tried to coax, threaten, cajole or instill a following over the course of the last decade or more. Not a following, to be precise. Just attention and involvement, cause and effect, the latter, hopefully, for the better. But the dark side was strong in this one. I've lost friends on account of it. Most on Facebook, come to think of it; a telling sign.

And those lost, over disagreements attributable to the election, the most purposefully divisive circus presented ever, in my estimation. My activism rejected logical fallacy - it involved thinking contrary to accepted norms. Not a great venue to win friends and influence people, either. It hurt me, too, stoked my insecurities and threatened my self image. It probably even left a mark. I'd gone against the grain but hadn't time to check for blisters. It changed me. More people say I'm an asshole now than before.

Acting on a cause like this was like asking someone to be food taster for a tyrant. After all, this is a $trillion dollar industry$ - year after year after year ... but you say there is still? All right, here I am, you're looking at it. Think that preposterous? I may be all you got. What do you care - Well, what did you do in the war, Daddy? "I was scared" would be an appropriate response.

If you'd answered, with some care, you'd have acknowledged one and a half million dead non-combatants due our military adventurism, an amount our Secretary of Defense "Mad Dog" Mattis recently disavowed, Albright only partially conceded and Hillary cackled on about thinking no one would ever learn of her culpability - not one of them taking any responsibility, of course - that would be a start.

There was one little hitch in my nefarious plan though. Zuckerberg, the owner of FB, had just changed Facebook's mission. Oh - haven't you heard? Oh - did he ever. Not without a little help and guidance from his friends, I'd wager.

A few "shares" of my innocent meme and the omnipotent algorithms kicked in, cutting off any thing I attempted right at the knees. And that's how it stayed, locked tighter than a drum, forbidden to "share" or post for two days running until I gave up in disgust. I tried to end run it, even sending some brave volunteers to certain erasure - my account, which I'd abandoned for so long, had never really let me walk away. But for some recurring cookies, I've since continued our separation, opting for some remorse.

It's not a "dating service", by the way. It's a stockade for the lonely and for the willing - and those few stalwarts who don't quite fit in? Regardless, every user there is herded to one end; no squawk, no fuss, you will be only with people who totally agree, "we" will direct you, to disobey is to be ostracized - you can even block out voices that don't agree with yours ... Read the happy clip here. Then throw it up to a mirror to reveal what it really means. Cross yourself first. I was spooked for an entire week afterward. Pun intended.

As for Representative Lee, above? She was the only Congress Person in 2001 to not vote for military intervention. Who would have thought that? Nobody at the time. Someone, or some entity, had attacked, and nobody was asking questions. Certainly not the populace, stirred to a frenzy as they were. Even if someone had petitioned their legally elected representative - The President boldly stated he would proceed with or without the public's consensus. Do you get the point now?

No voice. No decision making or debate. Patronizing words, a bait and switch, do what you're told, with some willing already, whether or not they are able. None for The Others. Others just standing by while Others are dead. But how do you think your Representative or Senator, will choose to vote for an #AUMF, Amerikan? Who's whispering in his/her ear? To whom is he beholding? The biggest contributor to maintain his office? A string of promises on a golden thread dangled like a carrot from a pearl-handled stick ... doesn't anyone do anything for their own integrity? But wait.

Pardon my hashtag, but doesn't he owe his position to your informed decision? Alright, disregarding relative knowledge of the subject, or what sources provide it, a choice abandoned to convenience, at that; I'm referring to a vote cast to return to Constitutional authority, your vote, one that outweighs private entanglements ... wait, that's almost a dirty word now, isn't it? Only "liberty" freaks and knuckle dragging goons adhere to that. What is the actual purpose? The Constitution is the law of the land, its actors, essentially, the authority, yet its contents are severely self limiting in nature to prevent any oppressive rule. It offers only negative reinforcements further restricting Government's intrusions - all allowances, changes, state efforts, interpretations, misrepresentation and disrespect in general - we screwed those up ourselves. Isn't that our nature ... but to put aside the philosophical and directly promoting action; Didn't they take an Oath, and how did that image of citizen representation emerge? The usual methods, the usual suspects ... fuck 'em.

Direct enough? But, it's yours, if only you would accept it. Do with it what you will. I might even go along. Not for some overseer behind a curtain - Look, I don't even want to hear what you think. I barely found the time to write this. I'd rather you contact your Representative/Senator now, before they vote. Now go and tell them personally; visit, call, text, email, fax, harass if you must ... if you care about the consequences of not doing so. Be persistent. What was it ... oh, yeah, just type this . . #AUMF



(... do it. I was wrong. It's not too late.)

Истребитель Су-27 отгоняет F-16 НАТО от самолета Шойгу: эксклюзивные кадры