I'm coining a new word tonight: Demmitude. It's the state of being dhimmi by choice.
I'm watching the coverage on television, and I've come to a profound and disappointing realisation... Bin Laden was right about us all along.
That's right. We're soft, we have weak stomachs. We don't like war, and death is unseemly. It makes for nasty soundbytes on tv, and ugly pictures in the paper. We are a peaceful lot, by nature. We like to mind our own business, and keep to ourselves. We don't always keep our word and we lack the gumption to see through difficult tasks. We want to watch American Idol and eat Cheetos and listen to our Ipods and not have to think about ugliness in the rest of the world. Tell us nice things, like you're moderate and you love America, and we'll believe anything. Tell us scary things, and we'll throw you out of office. We don't like being scared. Much more comfortable not to look at the bad pictures or talk about the scary things.
Do you think that the Romans knew what was coming, as they paid their money to the waves of barbarian hordes? Did they foresee their end? Or did they think, "It's only money, and we've got plenty of it. We'll buy their friendship and they'll leave us in peace." How long was it, in human terms, between an international empire, and complete subjugation? One lifetime? Two?
Incessant whining on the daily news has taken its toll. The public is tired of war. We don't want to watch it, or read it, or hear about it. Round the clock coverage has given us all ennui. And we've long since become immune to the mudslinging of political ads. And the war is so far away. Who really cares what happens in places we can hardly find on a map, to people with names we can't begin to pronounce?
Yes, I know, the final counts are not in yet. It does not matter; these races should never even have been close.
I hear Ms. Pelosi assures us the dems won't try to cut funding to the war, at least not immediately. That's nice. Reassuring, isn't it, that they aren't going to turn off the supplies and money first thing in the morning? I'm sure our boys dying in the desert are going to be so relieved to hear that they'll still have bullets in their guns for a few weeks. Nevermind the targets we've just painted on their backs for our enemies.
I am disgusted. Because we cannot be isolationists in the modern world, as much as we might like to. The islamofascists will never leave us alone. They will scent the weakness on this country like blood on the cattle that they think we are. And they will move in for the kill.
If the dems have their way and we pull out of Iraq, then we will have delivered a clear message to those who want to kill us. It is an engraved invitation to another 9/11, more bombed embassies and ships, more hijackings, and more beheaded Americans abroad. When Bush1 pulled out after the Gulf War, he left our allies to be slaughtered and dumped like garbage into mass graves. Hussein is one part on a multiheaded hydra; we cut him out and more grew in his place. They will carry on his atrocities. And anyone who has helped us fight this war has a deathmark. When we leave, they are as good as dead. We promised our soldiers and our allies that we would stand by them, we would support them.
And every vote for the democrats today was a vote not to keep our word. It was a vote for Sharia law.
Appeasement never works. You cannot negotiate with terrorists. They want us dead, or in subjugation.
1 comment:
You know, in some ways I feel now my childhood was fortunate. I was repeatedly harassed, beaten up, and had my bookbag and lunch thrown in the creek by a couple of middle-school bullies, and my well-meaning parents kept telling me the old standards: "Just ignore them" or "Walk away" or "Try to be nice to them." In other words, appease. I learned soon enough that bullies do not appreciate appeasement. They do, however, respect getting the snot kicked out of them. It is the only kind of strength they understand.
This was a painful lesson to learn in middle school, but oh, how I wish more adult Americans--who presumably were raised in tolerant, cruelty-free schoolyards--had learned it when they were young.
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