I'm Always Right, Far Right

Americans have arrived at the point where, as a people, we are paralyzed with indecisiveness as our leaders happily discuss the systematic destruction of our nation’s health. Ironically, that colloquialism is not merely figuratively true but physically true. Most Americans agree (see WSJ/NBC poll) that Obama is not the right president for the job, and that Obamacare is the wrong prescription for our healthcare woes. Yet, many representatives seem willing to go ahead with a policy and a president the people disapprove of. The people they are to represent.

This is all done under the auspicious authority of the Constitution. A document, I remind my reader, that is a contract, a contract between “we the people.”

We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.

The question that unerringly jumps to the front of my mind is when the contract is not forming a “more perfect Union,” what is America to do? When the county is not on a path to “secure the Blessings of Liberty,” do individual themselves have authority from the Constitution? I believe yes, the Constitution has only the authority you place in it. Like all contracts, the Constitution only exists at each party’s agreement. These two parties are you, the individual, and the Constitution embodied in the Federal Government. If one no longer wishes to be apart of such a contract, then even the weakest has the ability to remove themselves from its auspices.

To live out your life, in your house, without the intrusion of the Federal Government, should be the ultimate stick to which we hold our government accountable.

The wording makes it clear that the Founding Fathers never had the intention of binding future generations to an inviolable document. In addition, the concept of “Natural Rights,” in any interpretation, cannot be construed to mean the US Constitution applies to US Citizens merely by existence. Quite simply, like all contracts, US Constitution cannot be seen as supported by all US Citizens merely because they exist, and have not openly rebelled against the US Government. Instead, the US Constitution, like all contracts, requires the explicit approval of every individual within the country. Just like one is not obliged to buy a house your great-grandfather bought, merely because you exist. One is not obliged to accept the concept of the Constitution merely because a very dead, distant relation (or for new immigrants, no relation at all) signed for it.

Critics of this theory argue that the US Public has no choice in the matter. They miss an important part of what makes a contract, a social contract. Locke declares that when the government stops acting in coordination with society, “the people, who are thereupon absolved from any farther obedience, and are left to the common refuge, which God hath provided for all men, against force and violence.” That is the principle upon which our Constitution was written on. The principle that this contract is, at any time, useless without our consent. Many times people understand in some abstract way that “the people,” should topple our government. Yet more often than not, the “why,” is left unanswered. The “why,” is self-evident: the Constitution is the contract of mutual authority. The authority of our mutual agreement. The authority granted to it by ourselves.

Socrates explained to Crito why he must remain in prison and accept the death penalty; not because of the jailors decision, but what should be Crito’s. The argument is the theoretical ground for the distinction between duty to society and duty to government, the distinction that permits an argument for resistance without anarchy. Locke, and later Jefferson, all built off of this first dissertation.

The wording is implicit “secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity.” The only reference to later generations is not more than an aspiration. These men knew their Natural Rights, and they knew later generation’s Natural Rights. The concept of signing away someone’s ability to manage their own affairs; abridging the ultimate sanctity of a private contract, is not within our Founding Father’s intellectual ‘vocabulary.’ In the beginning of the paragraph, it directly mentions “We the People of the United States.” This is not “We the People of the United States of all eternity,” it is a specific group of men coming together to ensure certain freedoms for themselves at a certain time.

The Founding Fathers understood the importance of what they were crafting, and understood that countless other countries had fallen because of their inability to change the essence of their national government. They, and I, believe that the Constitution is not so much so, that it is so by only being so.

One of the criticisms that has been raised against this line of reasoning is if one believes the contract, which holds our union together, is void: why not fight? The answer is simple. If I was a Third-Wave Feminist, one who did not believe in killing rapists, would I then be implying rape is acceptable? Of course not. Implied consent is much more than not shooting the local IRS agent.

Further yet, such an attitude of “love it, or blow it up,” invites a Nietzsche dystopia.

What I, and so many others like me, seek to accomplish is reform. A peaceful, loving recalibration of the body politic.

[Aside: First off, let me apologize to me readers, the people at Absolute Write, for being so totally swamped by school. I let it take over my life, so to speak, I'm an over achiever and have a hard time avoiding work. It's a personality flaw that I hope you will all over look. This is a short story, of which the details were explained to a degree in the Absolute Write Blog Chain thread, so if you are one of my political followers; I am going to disappoint with not a political word to be had. That post is coming in the next day or two (actually, maybe today, I'm undecided).

Anyhow, for those who don't know this is the September Blog Chain that includes the following people...

http://alleslinks.com/
http://raven.youareannoying.us
http://lostwanderer5.blogspot.com/
mutteringsofascribe.blogspot.com
aimeelaine.com
http://theromanticqueryletter.blogspot.com/
http://benjaminsolah.com/blog]
http://jelyzabeth.wordpress.com/
http://freshhell.wordpress.com/
http://www.randomwriterlythoughts.blogspot.com/
http://eviealextheobsessivewriter.blogspot.com/
http://kaylee-rose.blogspot.com/
http://www.hobbyeconomist.com/
http://desinfocenter.blogspot.com/
http://www.eyefeathers.blogspot.com/

Happy reading.]

Notre-Dame de Reims (Our Lady of Rheims) cannot be dismissed as a Roman Catholic cathedral located in Reims, it cannot be dismissed as a pile of stones, it cannot be dismissed as superstitious nonsense. For where the kings of France were once crowned, electrifying spirit still haunts the halls, the shiver up the spine as one walks into the heart of Europe's Divine Mandate is not from the chill air. The dark air does waft down, across the streets with the tenacity of the Headless Horseman, and with he piercing power of a depleted uranium round. Through coats it cuts, around doors it flanks and hats, scarves, mittens- right out. There is little hiding from this Beast, from its decentralized, casually cruel mentality that ravages the happiness of most, inconveniences the rest.

Yet it does not blow into Notre-Dame de Reims. In spite of all its chill energy, its selfless appetite for heat, the dark wind hardly reaches the first steps before imploding upon itself, dying in an attempt to evade the virtuous, vivacious energy of the church. Like a fireplace, a great exporter of heat, Our Lady of Rheims destroys the winter's grim hand with effortless ease. For it uses, instead of wood or material, the heat of life, of history, of the souls it houses within its ancient confines.

Especially today, most especially today. For today is All Saints' Day, Hallowmas, and people are streaming in. Tall people, short people, fat people, skinny people. Red, yellow, white and black; courageous, cowardly. Intelligent and quick as lighting, possessing the mental capable of a doorknob. There sit funny looking people and there sit aesthetic angels, a few have deformities and a few contain the beauty of death. More contain the healthy vitality of life, many in the deepest throes of love, passion, lust. A few sit silent in their sorrows, feeling the spasms of life’s inherent dread slowly pluck the last remaining hope from their delicate lives. For love and live and hope are so fleeting and precious, like a flower plucked from its stem. Vibrant and strong, yet even the most simplest of children can understand that it will not last, nothing ever lasts and beauty, life and love less so than most things.

Among this crowd sits a man more depressed than most and less hopeful than all. He’s crouched within himself, a slumped over and huddled body indicating to all that he is suffering internal battles to rival the best of Napoleon, the best of Wellington. For he knows that who sits across from him is none other than the devil incarnate, Olivier Besancenot. Internationalist, socialist, French and a stain upon the Glorious France’s flag, a stain that could only be purged by judicial application of French blood. Besancenot's blood. By, specifically, the Bulgarian made Arcus 98DA.

The weapon is a full-size, short-recoil, locked-breech pistol with the added benefit of being cheap, reliable and fairly accessible within French Ghettos. Better yet, it is both modern and unused, untraceable. Chambered in a 9x19 Parabellum with a frame, slide and barrel CNC machined from steel forgings the gun fits easily within his right coat pocket. The gun features stippled rubber grips that provide a very slip-resistant surface that will help prevent it from squirming out of his stressed, weeping, hand. The matte blue finish, while not fine, is evenly applied, and there were no sharp edges to give it completely away as a weapon.

In his mind the whole act was already accomplished, in his mind he calmly takes out his gun, shoots Besancenot in the back of the head, in front of the nation in front of his family in front of God before slowly turning the trigger to his own temple while he utters a final prayer before pulling the trigger once more. Effectively turning himself into a martyr, a True Believer and an assured spot in God’s Holy Kingdom. Then, at the very least, the history books which were – he admitted to himself – just as good. Yet he can’t, he just can’t. He thought he was ready, he knew he was ready, it was all coming according to The Plan.

The Plan. The Plan where he paid off a guard to skip the search of his baggy pockets, implying to honorable worker that he planned to do no worse than pull out some silly string in some sort of militant atheistic defiance. He had left a stash of goodbye cards, shoutouts, to everyone in his life at his apartment. He had taken a sampling of the finest books, the best chapels, the greatest sermons and yet – here he sat, not petrified but merely unable. He saw no comfort in suicide, he saw no happiness in his actions nor greatness; he felt nothing. He had turned off his emotional perceptions because, frankly, those perceptions were repeatedly overwhelmed by the mass expulsion of pure humanity every time he considered ending a life, before ending his own.

The problem was, and he was startled to realize this, was that he couldn’t stop thinking of his girl, that wonder. He never thought of himself as the sentimental type, instead he had always had both eyes on the future, on fame, fortune and the rest. Yet here he was, about to enter the history books, about to fulfill one of the last obstacles to France’s inevitable triumph back to the universe’s cherished denizens. Yet he was completely unable to move. “Ah, well, that’s life.” He mumbled to himself as he steeled himself once more to take the plunge into the abyss, regardless of life; everything. With one last glance at his watch he realized that he was dramatically late and was about to have his decision yanked from his sweaty palms by Time, the cruelest mistress. Any second now, something would change and this chance would be lost forever.

With a creeping sensation that there existed beyond him a world not entirely his own. Beyond The Man With the Gun's struggled breathing there was another noise, just noticeable. The intake, the gasping intake, of the man across the aisle. A disheveled individual who was even now crying in great heaping, choking, sobs as he pulled out the largest knife in the world. Well, obviously not the biggest, likely not even ranked but to the round, innocent eyes of The Man With the Gun, it was massive. More interesting still, this new threat was merely a few steps from the bowed visage of the Devil's truly: Besancenot. More interesting still, was that he went unnoticed by Besancenot or anyone else. Besancenot, who was either fast asleep, always a probability, or so deeply enthralled with God that he did not yet realize the threat to his personage, was head-bowed. Though, spoke a quiet cynic, he could be faking a religious experience; purposefully attempting to not hear, see or feel the world around him. A probability, the Man With The Gun decided, which was much worse than not having the temporary ability through a religious epiphany of the highest order.

With no little satisfaction, the silently weeping man snakes down the few feet to the French “anti-capitalist,” the French “anti-imperialist,” the French “stain.” The Man With The Gun can see the situation so crystal clear, so devilishly insightful. He has thought through all the angles, he sees through all the forgery and deception. This crying, destroyed man is here to make sure the job gets done. The same people who contacted The Man With The Gun, who assured him, who gave him his Gun, who said with every sinew of their sincerity that it was "God's Will," had in effect attempted to create their own fate. There was no faith in sending two men for this job, there was no faith in doubting.

The churchgoers who see The Man With The Gun leave, believe he is merely overcome by religious feelings – embarrassing, surely, but that merely aggravates the ease in which he slips by. Embarrassing people are so easily dismissed, it takes true will to stare at someone so unabashedly out of his mind.

Inside, the second killer stops and puts a hand to his forehead where he leans an aisle away from Besancenot, seemingly deep in an complete spiritual breakdown.

“Tu me casses les coquilles,” The Man with the Gun whispered ever so slightly, indecipherably silent, as he nears the exit.

Sighing, the killer stands up with his knife ready to plunge. He finds no need to bring attention to himself as surely as the Man With The Gun found no need to watch this façade anymore. In the killer's mind, God's Will would be done with himself as God's shining sword of justice.

The Man With Gun smiles as he walks slowly out of the chapel. Hearing the first screams – two gunshots – his heart touches the sterile edges of the calm certainty that he did right. He wouldn’t kill to kill, wouldn’t kill to fulfill some demented madman’s aspirations, he just wanted to go home to his girl; sit down in front of a movie for two and half glorious hours, then fuck her brains out. Not a lot to ask, all things considered.

There sits a cocaine addict, there sits an alcoholic and there sits a hopeless gambler. They three, in their own way, have abused vices to excess. They are most or less shunned by society, hapless to their own body's urges they can do little to stop. They would give up a limb for every new bag, every new bottle, every new bank account as they sink ever deeper into their own moral sinkhole. It is a sad sight, but do we go up to those people and say "you're a cocaine addict, well, here's another pound?" With a slap on the back, do we go up to the alcoholic and say "here's a quart of whiskey, go crazy?" Is the gambler provided with a checking account only valid within a casino's walls? No, no and most especially: no.




Yet when it comes to our country, to our way of life, what do we do? We're addicted to debt, a drug more potent and addicting than the most powerful hard drug in existence. This drug, this addiction, has poisoned so many aspects of our society that we now hardly notice the declining value of our savings account, the bankrupting of our social safety nets, the slow abdication of fiscal conservatism, the death spiral of our jobs, lives, homes and families. Yet what does our current batch of politicians do? Do they consider that we need to be weaned off our addiction, that we must understand the idea and the concept: you only get what we can pay for? No, they try to beat our addiction to cheap debt by, you guessed it, giving us more debt! We're a few trillion dollars in debt? Well, here's another trillion or so. Have a great day! I find such tactics not merely intellectually dishonest but morally reprehensible. This country deserves better, you deserve better; we deserve better today, tomorrow, we deserve better forever.

It clearly does not take someone with a PhD in Economics to understand that enabling an addiction is not a intelligible response to our current problems. Which is why, no doubt, most people don't believe their dully (that's right, dully) elected representatives are worth the powder to blow them off the face of the Earth. Albeit, if not that extreme, then they believe them to be worse than someone randomly pulled from a phone book [1] and to the majority of Americans. The country would be infinitely better off if the entire bunch would be kicked out for good. [2]

With such widespread incompetence and ignorance from Washington, being traded with Main Street's goods of antipathy and disillusionment. Even the small steps, even the one's considered 'quasi' successful, have a knack for being upheld as victories – that is, if victories ever had a habit of falling on their face. One such, great, example could be best explained by two source's (pulled from Left Coast Rebel, a delightful chap everyone should say 'hello too') from two local news sources seeming to indicate that the widely 'acclaimed' Cash-For-Clunkers deal has hit a few snags. Which is government speak for this is not the deal some dealers were hoping for. For they, ironically enough, thought that if they, dealers in Chicago [3] and South Dakota [4], followed the governments stated intentions then money would result. Ah, too bad, apparently they are getting ready for a massive disappoint because as expected the timetable for reimbursement is gradually extending to the point one cannot help but give a sad shake of their head. If one still believes the government will truly pay back – at all!

Surely it doesn't help that for the largest and most ideologically prominent issue, health-care, most people assume they know more then the aforementioned delegates. [5]

Against this delightful background, cannot the question "what can liberty do," resound?

For too long it has been held that we must 'socialize the means of production, because people are entirely too poor.' After refutation built upon refutation, that general principle was changed to 'we must social the ends of production, because people are entirely too rich.' This also has but been refuted every step of the way. For that I believe we shall stop seeing the world as the subjective view of two opposing ideologies: the ‘left’ and the ‘right.‘ Yet instead as a division between those who would appropriate our sweat for the benefit of paper-pushers and those who place their honor in the noble system of social cooperation based on the virtue of the contract and voluntary coordination. We shall see the world as those who have accepted the moral authority endowed to us by the Almighty and on the other the sickly sweet call of the authoritarian promising us money we have not earned, responsibility we do not deserve and morality without meaning.

In short, I hope we shall find that these timid arguments about budget size shall be replaced by a larger concern. That is, a focus away from the simplistic issue of a budget deficit 'too large' but but instead to the consideration how such a government could ever hope to create such shortfalls without overstepping its constitutional bounds. Instead of a race between the GOP’s creeping socialism and the Democrat’s gallop to government interventionism - we shall plan for freedom. We shall plan for the optimal government, one envisioned by not merely a deluge of philosophers but economists, revolutionaries, physicists, biologists, businessmen and untold thousands - millions, if not billions - of people. That is, the general standard upon which good governance is counted will be to improve the material well being of society through the ability too (in the words of Ludwig von Mises) “establish and to preserve an institutional setting in which there are no obstacles to the progressive accumulation of new capital and it utilization for the improvement of technical methods of production.”

Which is more or less a more detailed delve into the memorable Locke's statement:

Government has no other end than the preservation of property.

Sincerely I believe that this statement was not uttered by a man to be written off as a “royalist,” or an “elitist,” or from the ‘Party of No.’ Because, frankly, he is by and far smarter then every political theorist alive.

To continue this line of thinking, let me share with you an except from Cato’s Letters. A series of pamphlets published in support of liberty during the formative years of our country.

By Liberty I understand the Power which every Man has over his own Actions, and
his Right to enjoy the Fruits of his Labour, Art, and Industry, as far as by it
he hurts not the Society, or any Members of it, by taking from any Member, or by
hindering him from enjoying what he himself enjoys. The Fruits of a Man's honest
Industry are the just Rewards of it, ascertained to him by natural and eternal
Equity, as is his Title to use them in the Manner which he thinks fit: And thus,
with the above Limitations, every Man is sole Lord and Arbitrer of his own
private Actions and Property.

With that in mind, please - plan for freedom. Let Free Markets "Work."

[1] Ramussen Reports

[2] Rasmussen Reports II

[3] CBS News Chicago

[4] Keloland TV

[5] Gallup Polling