Historical Generalities Bother Me.


I was in a debate of Facebook the other day about the current race war being perpetuated by the current political climate. Several of the commentators stated inane things like, ***White people are the cause of war and have been since the earliest times. It is the Western culture that is behind all the race warfare. White people always think they are superior in their culture. And so on. (***paraphrased to avoid charges of plagiarism.) Because I really do not like the all inclusive “always” when discussing culture and warfare, this is my response to the inability of the commentators for using such a broad brush to paint all white people (whatever that means, as genetically diverse we are despite skin color).

1. People in the Middle East, in fact, all over the world, were killing each other long before the “white race” gained any power anywhere other than their own back yard. It is within the make up of humans to fight over the most, best, pretties, strongest, of everything. In the Middle East, the Moors managed to take over a good part of Europe by warfare. The Arabs were one of the first groups to deal with mathematics, astronomy, science, medicine, and literature. Be that as it may, they fought over that part of the world from day one, and are still doing so, and still behaving like Bedouin tribal warriors. And of course, they are still fighting the Jews who brought the one God into their venue.

However, as with all great cultures, with the rise comes a fall brought about, generally, by man’s greed and unwillingness to cooperate, share, learn new things, and let go of the warrior behavior in favor of other ways of working things out. It isn’t going to happen, it didn’t when the Philistines fought with Judea, it didn’t when the Greeks went to war with Troy, it didn’t work when the Romans ran out of places to conquer. Over time the entire culture of Northern Africa and the Middle East became caught in the quagmire of human inability to hang on to knowledge. So much was lost in the name of war, and that was long before “white people” showed up to meddle.

Of course the infighting, inbreeding, and greed of those in any place of power knew their days on earth were always finite once they made their first enemy. Those that tried to protect knowledge and culture were often seen as the biggest obstacle in the way of those who wanted more power. While their early scholars were once revered and respected, it wasn’t long before they became either slaves to the whims of their rules or owners, or they were forced into fleeing the country. Except, of course, for the scholars who gave in to the greed right along with those in power. As usual, those of a lower class, different religious beliefs, enslaved, and disenfranchised as a people suffered the most. Just as they do today. And as always, since about 2000 years ago, it is the Jews that they want to suffer the most. Well, Jews, and Christians, and anyone who is an American.

2. Greeks, Romans, and all the other cultures around the Mediterranean copied the Arabic people in learning, or were taught it as slaves to the Arabs before bringing it back to their countries. The Greek rise to power, and the fall from the top, was pretty fast. The Romans, however, took warfare to the highest technological level of their time. Other than China, and maybe Japan, they developed warfare into a world domination. But they were felled by the savages from the north, the true “white people” that eventually took over the world. So blame it all on the savage Vikings and the Norsemen, it is all their fault! The loss of Alexander was the last hurray for the Greek push to conquer the world. Then comes the loss of all the knowledge collected in the great library of Alexandria, when Rome took over the world. Of course, to do that, they had to destroy that which did not merge with their idea of culture and polytheism. So they killed the Jews, and then they killed Christians to stop the spread of the one God. But, it didn’t work.

The Romans also spent a lot of time killing each other. Especially the ruling class of people. Again, greed, power, corruption, and a determination to end the life of anyone who was different infected the great armies of Rome. And, like all dictatorships, the most corrupt rose to the top of the scum and killed all that was great about Roman culture, knowledge, and political growth. The were slowly drowned by the quicksand of mediocrity, leaving only the Roman Catholic Church with the opportunity to grab power and then began the Dark Ages and the rule of power through killing knowledge and education.

3. African tribal groups are some of the most warlike groups in the world, (along with many aboriginal groups including American Indian tribes.) We see them as victims today, and some of them are, but back along they were vicious enemies who captured each other to enslave or sell as slaves. Women were treated worse than most cows (sounds kinda like Muslims today, hummm?). Northern Africa is mostly Arabic and Muslim from the beginning of the religion. And in Egypt they were polytheists, and still are within certain factions . Christianity, and Islamic religions and off shoots were equal for a while, but now it is the backward thinking Islamic terrorists who run things. And they are, without a doubt, very warlike. As Islam spread into middle Africa, it became a horror of starvation and warfare. It won’t end any time soon, and it sure didn’t start with “white people” turning up. No more that the Incas and other South American cultures were the victims of the “white people” over the centuries. They murdered each other, long before they were discovered by the outside world.

Today central Africa is filled with third world countries and slipping fast. No matter how much help the gullible “white people” give, or how much we educate the people of Africa, they still behave like tribal warriors. As such, it is clear that the influence “white people” have had on the development of Africa is minimal. They will take the technology, bastardize the religions and political ideas we share, but they still fight like the tribal warriors that they are. Adding the violence of the Jihad Islamic Terrorists to their inclination to kill everyone who isn’t like them, they have become even more fractured as a people. Leaving their young to bear the burden of losing their culture, traditions, and values as they are taught how to be prejudiced, racists, and fanatical killers. The hope for some sort of common compassion and decency is no longer viable in many places in middle Africa.

My point, gentlemen and ladies, is that mankind, humankind, will ALWAYS be at war over something. It is genetic, in our nature, to compete, especially the males, for dominance. It started when we were chest beating cave dwellers. It hasn’t changed much. Our weapons are deadlier, and our reasons are often no reason at all – such as the genocide of young black males via other young black males in places like Chicago and Washington D. C. But the same reason for most war between people still come down to a few simple things. Politics (Ruling Power). Religion (My god is better than your god, even if they are both the one God). Greed (I deserve everything you earned and I am taking it). Land (I need more dirt and your’s looks good). Riches (I want more, more, more and I will do anything to get it, anything). Entitlement (Because I am the greatest and I deserve it). So, all the twaddle about one race being the instigator and perpetual cause of all war is simply unsustainable in the light of history of mankind. I suggest studying history before throwing about the whole issue of race and skin color being the driving factor of any sort of warfare. It is much more than that. To that end, I offer a bibliography for your pursuance at leisure.

The History of the Ancient World: From the Earliest Accounts to the Fall of Rome  Susan Wise Bauer

1177 B.C.: The Year Civilization Collapsed: The Year Civilization Collapsed (Turning Points in Ancient History) Eric H. Cline

The Science of the Dogon: Decoding the African Mystery Tradition  Laird Scranton (Author), John Anthony West (Foreword)

Babylon: Mesopotamia and the Birth of Civilization  Paul Kriwaczek (Author)

Ancient African Civilizations: Kush and Axum Hardcover – by Stanley Mayer Burstein (Author, Editor)

Europe Between the Oceans: 9000 BC-AD 1000 Paperback – April 26, 2011 by Barry Cunliffe

Lost to the West: The Forgotten Byzantine Empire That Rescued Western Civilization Hardcover by Lars Brownworth  (Author)

The Last Days of the Incas  Kim MacQuarrie (Author)

Egypt, Greece, and Rome: Civilizations of the Ancient Mediterranean Paperback  by Charles Freeman  (Author)

Perspectives from the Past: Primary Sources in Western Civilizations: From the Ancient Near East through the Age of Absolutism (Third Edition) (Vol. 1)

Norse Warfare: The Unconventional Battle Strategies of the Ancient Vikings Hardcover –  by Martina Sprague 

Vikings Hardcover – February 9, 2001  by Hazel Mary Martell 

Viking: The Norse Warrior’s [Unofficial] Manual Hardcover  by John Haywood 

They Came Before Columbus: The African Presence in Ancient America (Journal of African Civilizations) Paperback – September 23, 2003  by Ivan Van Sertima 

Forever Young


On September 11, 2014, my first born will be 40 years old. For many people that requires a birthday party with black balloons and silly “Over The Hill” banners. It has been almost 19 years since he moved on, and still we miss him every day. But my son, you see, is forever young. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9E6-AYce-_M

If he were here, physically, he would be a proud father of his baby girl, and an even more proud grandfather to her baby girl. He would hug his girl, and spoil her girl, and still be a strong man to lean on when they needed him the most.

I don’t know what he would be doing as a profession, but I know it would be something outdoors. He hated being cooped up inside, no matter the weather. If it was hot, he would be off somewhere playing or fishing in the water. If it was cold, he would get up to all manner of things that required slipping, sliding, and general mayhem, with a bit of danger mixed in for spice.

I don’t know what his political bent would be, but I expect it would be about as conservative and his parents and brother tend to be. I don’t know if he would be religious, but I know he would be spiritual. I don’t know if he would like all the modern gizmos and technology, but I know he could master all of them quickly. I don’t know what kind of vehicle he would drive, but I know he would own a Harley.

But, I don’t need to know, because my son, you see, is forever young.

He would still like boxing, and loud music. Music that ranged from classical to heavy metal met his approval. He would still like reading and learning on his own, in his own way. He would still love to sit and talk with the elderly and people who captured his interest. He would still love to tinker with motors, even if they frustrated him every time he worked on one. He would still love his family, his friends, and impress strangers with his knowledge about all sorts of things. He would still give you the shirt off his back if you needed it, and make sure that you had something to eat if you were hungry. He would still support the Viet Nam Veterans, and give them all the honor they deserve. He would still want to hang out with his brother, and probably torment him as only a big brother can. He would still be our Arron. Because he knew that growing up didn’t mean becoming someone else, it just meant being more who you are. He was philosophical that way.

He would still get into fist fights, but maybe not as much. He would still stand up for the underdog, but he might not lose his temper over misjustice so easily. He would still protect his mother, wife, daughter, niece, or any other female in his life, but he wouldn’t put up with drama trauma from any female. Like most guys, it either made him uncomfortable, annoyed, or confused. He would still love his beer on a hot day, and his whisky on a cold night, and he would still sneak bites of dinner as it is being cooked.

He would still like to go shirtless while working outdoors, and he would still wear those motorcycle boots, no matter how hot it was. He would still wear 501 button down Levi jeans, Harley shirts, and the occasional button down with the sleeves torn out of it. He would still have his silver front teeth instead of changing the caps out for something like everyone else. And he would still have long hair, a beard, and wear an ear ring, even though he knows it bugs me.

He would still have his cheeky, wicked grin that told me he was up to something he shouldn’t be. He would still make me laugh at his irreverent humor, tell me that I looked like a dumpling, and tease me about everything I do, just to get me riled. He would still walk to the beat of his own drummer, follow his dreams, and fly his kite just the way he wanted to.

Yes, he would do those things, and he probably is doing just that where he is. Because, you see, my son is forever twenty-one.

Happy Birthday Arron. Welcome to the old fart club. I love you. Mom.

Forever Young.  Arron Glen Combs  September 1974 - Jan 1996.
Forever Young. Arron Glen Combs September 1974 – Jan 1996.

 

Finding A Way Home


 

Finding A Way Home

 

There is a homeless Vet who sits at the off ramp from I240 and Getwell. He is there everyday, rain or shine. I don’t normally stop and give money to homeless people (I do a lot of donating to shelters etc.) especially if I am alone. But one day I was prompted to do so by that annoying little voice that always expects me to do the right thing. All I had on me was a ten dollar bill.

 

I prevaricated, then motioned him over before the light turned green and handed it to him. He looked down, saw the amount, and tried to give it back! I just shook my head and told him to share what he could with those that had less and pay it forward. I still see him every time I am down that way, and if I have some cash, I will give it to him. But even if all I do is wave, he waves back.

 

Some days he looks like he is doing better, cleaned up, not so hungry, not drunk, some days he looks like he hasn’t slept in a week or two and needs some TLC. The point is, none of us know when that might be us sitting at that corner. Most of us are only a few paychecks away from being homeless in today’s financial quagmire. All we can do is work hard, pray hard, stay focused, love those who love us, and do our best.

 

Sometimes the hardest things seem beyond our best coping skills, but later, on down the road, you will wonder how you managed to overcome and move forward. One day, that Vet won’t be at his corner ever again. He will either find a way to fix himself, or he will give up and become one of the millions who die of sorrow every year. Either way, until he disappears, I will continue to offer what spare cash I have, and at the very least, acknowledge him as another human soul who simply wants to find a way home.

 

Weary, Worried, Wary and Willing.


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Weary, Worried, Wary and Willing.

I am weary, tired to the bone weary with the political disgrace of our so called elected leaders for our country. I am weary of constantly battling against the unmitigated crimes that are perpetrated by those who are supposed to be protecting our rights. I am weary of dealing with the repercussions of a supercilious, narcissistic, unbearably arrogant man who thinks he should be king of the United States of America. I am weary of trying to protect that which are my God given rights via our Constitution and Bill of Rights. I am weary of the constant, never ending, self congratulatory braggadocio of the people who would turn America into a third world country that is enslaved to the government through the unrelenting pressure on everyone to give in, sit down, shut up, and let Big Daddy take care of us. I am weary from fighting the good fight, hanging on by a sliver of hope and dauntless resolve, to stand up, speak up, and do what is right for myself, my family, and my nation.

I am worried. Very worried, down to my toes, can’t sleep at night worried about the future of my world as I know it. I am worried that the inane, insane, indulgent expenditure of the tax dollars forced from our hands will continue to hemorrhage and regurgitate into the hands of the illicit and nefarious characters behind the man who would be king. I am worried that the corrupt government will continue to pillage and plunder our heritage until all truth and history of the great republic will fade and become little more than an experimental footnote in the far reaches of our progeny. I am worried that the greatest document in the story of man kind, The Constitution of the United States of America, will be culled by those who have contempt for the words and meanings therein, leaving the citizens with little more than an illusion of what the forefathers scribed. I am worried, that stealing away our constitutional rights, one minuscule bit at a time, will numb the majority of Americans to simply ignore the more insidious evil of proletarian dictatorship that awaits us at the other side of the cavernous maw of so called progressive liberalism.

I am wary, very wary, down to my deepest level of caution wary, of the way in which the progressive liberals have begun to use dubious language to present their doctrine in ways that will sound logical, but are, instead, quite radical. I am wary of the constant race baiting and the use of implied guilt to divide the people of this country, and in doing so, stalking and defeating our personal rights of speech, liberty, religion, and law. I am wary of those who would use fraudulent procedures designed to force those who differ in opinion and thought to violent hostility toward one another. I am wary, deeply wary, of the politicians who were elected to represent the wishes of the people they serve. No matter how determined their verbiage sounds, it is frequently the unsaid that influences their back room deals and constantly starving pocketbooks.

Having said all of that, I am also tenaciously willing to stand in the face of my enemies to protect and overcome the persuasion and persecution of those who would take that which my forefathers have fought for in every war since the American Revolution. Those who fought the tyranny of the government from whence they came, those who stood shoulder to shoulder to overcome poverty, sorrow, and loss, those who prayed, sweat, and cried as they pulled themselves up from the lowest level to the highest gave us FREEDOM. I am willing to stand with you, with every American Citizen who wants to keep that freedom from the tyrants who are waiting, like circling buzzards, to pick our Constitution and freedom from the bones of our great nation. I am willing, no matter how weary, worried, or wary I may be, to boldly declare my determination to overcome the negative and guilt ridden brainwashing of the progressive left and remain free of their new form of slavery and humiliation. I am an American Citizen with all the rights and freedoms therein. Who wants to join me in the revolution to take back our world?

He cried.


He didn’t cry when he enlisted, because he was both proud and scared. But his mother did.

He didn’t cry when he was at boot camp, worn out, and so tired he could lie down and sleep in the mud. But his buddy did.

He didn’t cry when he was sent to the war zone, he was scared and worried, but proud to serve. But his girlfriend did.

He didn’t cry when he was so miserable with the heat that he thought every last bit of liquid was sucked out of his body. But he wanted to.

He didn’t cry when he had to spend days outside the wire, sleeping in the sand, and living off MRE meals. But he did get mad and cuss a lot.

He didn’t cry when the EID blew up in front of him, he was too busy trying to save the lives of the men and women in his unit.

He cried, when he saw the rifles and boots lined up, helmets on top, representing those who didn’t make it. Then he cried, because those were heroes, brothers and sisters in arms, men and women who laid down their lives for him, and all Americans, in a miserable desert far from home. But, not for long. He had to get back to the job he was trained to do.

He cried, when the airplane carrying him home lifted off from that evil land, and he cried again when he saw his family waiting for him when he got stateside. He cried to see the girl he wanted to marry. He cried when he walked into his home after nearly two years away.

He cried when he didn’t stop having the dreams about wounded and mutilated bodies of his friends and companions.

He cried when everyone told him to just forget and get on with living.

He cried, then he pulled the trigger that ended his life.