You, as an individual, have the right to be free. No person or entity has the right to deprive you of that. No bully who kills, bribes, or buttkisses his way to controlling any government is your representative or master in any moral sense. A government by force is a criminal enterprise, and no more legitimate.
The only legitimate form of government is some form of democracy, in which the governed are empowered and protected from totalitarian bullies.
In 1980 I was at a friend's condo, drinking and playing UNO. I took a break to go to the john and step outside for some air. It was quiet. The complex was well-spaced, in a rural area, with woods to the south, where I stood on my friend's patio. And I heard, through those woods, a young woman screaming, and was on my way.
In my stocking feet, blasting through thorns and scrub in the dark. Enough moonlight to navigate. The screaming got louder. It wasn't a joke--something was happening to her. At my side appeared another guy, doing the same as me--I felt better, ya know? And he was a pretty big guy. Good.
After about 50 yards, we came out of the woods onto a new street with no houses on it. Isolated. There was a Cadillac there with windows tinted downright opaque. That's where the screaming was coming from. I grabbed the handle for the back door. It was locked. "Let her go!, you bastard!"
I knew there could be a gun. I could be shot. Didn't care. I was stepping back to try to kick the window in when the far rear door opened, and a teenage, petite, well-dressed black girl came out and ran to the front, stamping her feet and hopping in hysterics.
The car shot foreward, to turn around and escape. I got us out of the way, thinking he'd try to run us over. I tried to get the license, but it was hopeless without my glasses. I went to her and tried to calm her, but she recoiled from my touch, as if my hands were coated in crap. Oddly, though, a moment later, she let the other guy take care of her. Oh well.
Even as the caddy sped up the street, another car came the other way past it, and the driver--a young guy--wanted to know what happened. I said follow the caddy and get it's license number, and he wheeled around and shot away in pursuit. No interrogation. No hesitation. Most of the reasons were self-evident, and if he waited a few more seconds, the assailant would be gone.
Later, he (had a male passenger, by the way) came back. He'd got the license number. I asked them to take her to the police, and they did.
I learned some good stuff about myself, and also about these other three guys, that night. We didn't stand there listening to her scream, waste time getting help or calling the police, or slink back inside, pretending we didn't hear her. And at least this other guy and me risked our lives to free her--and God help the rat(s) if we'd got our hands on him/them, by the way.
Something else, too: I took over. I don't think that was really all that special, though. I think that, in an emergency like that, all pretense is dropped. I mean, If this other guy had started telling people what to do, I would have just kept my mouth shut (unless he was wrong). It wasn't about being a bigshot. It was about getting stuff done ASAP, period.
A collective sort of thing. We'll all respond to the strongest voice in a situation like that. No time for a lot of critical thinking, or asking "so who put you in charge?" If I'd been that driver, for instance, I would have done the same.
And men have thast instinct to protect women...from other men. You don't think about "what if it was my sister/mom/daughter?" You just DO it!
And me? I was the bully-fighter, Jack. I was the nerd's hero, because I came out of my phone booth and protected them. I was abused by other kids, until I got over the pacifist crap my mother had filled me with (and I'm passive/aggressive to this day. I take too much, and then overreact.)
But I wasn't like these other scumbags. Don't tell me you were doing whatever to somebody else because somebody did it to you. You know what it feels like, and yet you enjoy inflicting that pain on other people? The rage this engendered in me made my white knight stuff only natural. I HATE bullies, and when I see their victims, I feel what they feel, and it just wells up in me. I want to wipe these rectums off the face of the earth.
Not a digression. Here we are: Totalitarians are bullies. They are criminals, and not legitimate. And when we knock one off, it's a good thing.
And listen, carefully: Because I can't save all the rape/murder(?) victims on the world, does it mean that I should have ignored that one? If she went home and got abused by her stepfather, does it mean I was an idiot for saving her?
And I wonder...do they act the same in France? I mean--would several men run toward the screaming, regardless of the consequences?
Are you aware that those old western movies helped to form a uniquely american culture? One in which all the guys wanted to be John Wayne, and rescue all the good guys from all the bad guys?
All those guys who went over there in WWII: That was why they went. That is...or was...America.
Yeah, here we go. "Yeah but we screwed the native americans and we had slaves and--" and nevermind what we did to remedy of compensate for those atrocities, or all those who died doing it. Nevermind that what evil we did pales in comparison to anywhere else in the world.
Aw, hell. That's it, I can't win.
The only legitimate form of government is some form of democracy, in which the governed are empowered and protected from totalitarian bullies.
In 1980 I was at a friend's condo, drinking and playing UNO. I took a break to go to the john and step outside for some air. It was quiet. The complex was well-spaced, in a rural area, with woods to the south, where I stood on my friend's patio. And I heard, through those woods, a young woman screaming, and was on my way.
In my stocking feet, blasting through thorns and scrub in the dark. Enough moonlight to navigate. The screaming got louder. It wasn't a joke--something was happening to her. At my side appeared another guy, doing the same as me--I felt better, ya know? And he was a pretty big guy. Good.
After about 50 yards, we came out of the woods onto a new street with no houses on it. Isolated. There was a Cadillac there with windows tinted downright opaque. That's where the screaming was coming from. I grabbed the handle for the back door. It was locked. "Let her go!, you bastard!"
I knew there could be a gun. I could be shot. Didn't care. I was stepping back to try to kick the window in when the far rear door opened, and a teenage, petite, well-dressed black girl came out and ran to the front, stamping her feet and hopping in hysterics.
The car shot foreward, to turn around and escape. I got us out of the way, thinking he'd try to run us over. I tried to get the license, but it was hopeless without my glasses. I went to her and tried to calm her, but she recoiled from my touch, as if my hands were coated in crap. Oddly, though, a moment later, she let the other guy take care of her. Oh well.
Even as the caddy sped up the street, another car came the other way past it, and the driver--a young guy--wanted to know what happened. I said follow the caddy and get it's license number, and he wheeled around and shot away in pursuit. No interrogation. No hesitation. Most of the reasons were self-evident, and if he waited a few more seconds, the assailant would be gone.
Later, he (had a male passenger, by the way) came back. He'd got the license number. I asked them to take her to the police, and they did.
I learned some good stuff about myself, and also about these other three guys, that night. We didn't stand there listening to her scream, waste time getting help or calling the police, or slink back inside, pretending we didn't hear her. And at least this other guy and me risked our lives to free her--and God help the rat(s) if we'd got our hands on him/them, by the way.
Something else, too: I took over. I don't think that was really all that special, though. I think that, in an emergency like that, all pretense is dropped. I mean, If this other guy had started telling people what to do, I would have just kept my mouth shut (unless he was wrong). It wasn't about being a bigshot. It was about getting stuff done ASAP, period.
A collective sort of thing. We'll all respond to the strongest voice in a situation like that. No time for a lot of critical thinking, or asking "so who put you in charge?" If I'd been that driver, for instance, I would have done the same.
And men have thast instinct to protect women...from other men. You don't think about "what if it was my sister/mom/daughter?" You just DO it!
And me? I was the bully-fighter, Jack. I was the nerd's hero, because I came out of my phone booth and protected them. I was abused by other kids, until I got over the pacifist crap my mother had filled me with (and I'm passive/aggressive to this day. I take too much, and then overreact.)
But I wasn't like these other scumbags. Don't tell me you were doing whatever to somebody else because somebody did it to you. You know what it feels like, and yet you enjoy inflicting that pain on other people? The rage this engendered in me made my white knight stuff only natural. I HATE bullies, and when I see their victims, I feel what they feel, and it just wells up in me. I want to wipe these rectums off the face of the earth.
Not a digression. Here we are: Totalitarians are bullies. They are criminals, and not legitimate. And when we knock one off, it's a good thing.
And listen, carefully: Because I can't save all the rape/murder(?) victims on the world, does it mean that I should have ignored that one? If she went home and got abused by her stepfather, does it mean I was an idiot for saving her?
And I wonder...do they act the same in France? I mean--would several men run toward the screaming, regardless of the consequences?
Are you aware that those old western movies helped to form a uniquely american culture? One in which all the guys wanted to be John Wayne, and rescue all the good guys from all the bad guys?
All those guys who went over there in WWII: That was why they went. That is...or was...America.
Yeah, here we go. "Yeah but we screwed the native americans and we had slaves and--" and nevermind what we did to remedy of compensate for those atrocities, or all those who died doing it. Nevermind that what evil we did pales in comparison to anywhere else in the world.
Aw, hell. That's it, I can't win.
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