And this, Sarge, is why I believe we are in the situation we find
ourselves today...

This Country needs more Paladins.


On Sep 26, 3:02 pm, Gaar <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote:
> http://article.nationalreview.com/?q=OGVlY2RhOGM0MWE5MjNmMGM2ZjY0Nzcx...
>
> By Bill Whittle
>
> When I first got to college, back in the last few weeks of the
> Seventies, I finally got a chance to see an ordinary game of Dungeons
> and Dragons. My immediate inclination was to play as a Paladin: the
> pinnacle of Lawful Good, a character required to dash in and fight
> overwhelmingly powerful evil forces anywhere and at whatever odds.
> These contests were short, depressing and hilarious, but all D&D
> really came down to in the end was slaying small monsters, taking
> their gold, buying slightly better gear and then slaying slightly
> larger monsters. Why not just save some time and become a Vorpal Sword
> distributor? Then you get the weapons and the gold, and people bring
> them both to you. And so a larval conservative was born. And I never
> played again.
>
> That was the attitude I took into The Lord of the Rings when the first
> of the trilogy appeared in 2001, just a few months after the Two
> Towers actually did fall and the idea of good and evil suddenly became
> — to me and no doubt to you too — a great deal less ironic and a great
> deal more real.
>
> And there, in the darkness, staring up at that screen, I marveled at
> this monumental font of deep and eternal ideas: the aversion to facing
> danger, even when it is right in front of us; the value of old and
> true allies; the corrosive force of addiction; responsibility
> forsaken, then reclaimed… and through it all the fear that we may be
> lesser sons of greater fathers, and that we may no longer have the
> courage or the will to defend the City entrusted to our care.
>
> This, and more, what was what John Ronald Reuel Tolkien was trying to
> teach me, down that dark river of the future — and he ought to know.
> The Lord of the Rings was written between 1937 through 1949… years of
> dark waters, indeed.
>
> A few years before Tolkien put pen to paper, an event took place that
> a man of his education would have undoubtedly been aware. On February
> 9th, 1933, the ruling elite of the world’s great Civilization held a
> debate in the Oxford Union. With thunderclouds growing dark across the
> English Channel, at a time when resolute action could still have
> averted the worst catastrophe the world has ever known, these elites
> resolved that “This House will in no circumstances fight for its King
> and Country.”
>
> The Resolution passed by a vote of 275 to 153. Needless to say, this
> vote did not avert the fight. It guaranteed it.
>
> How much of the weight of that, I wonder, sat along side him as he
> penned page after page about the decline of the Men of the West. For
> taken in its entirety, The Lord of the Rings is about the collective
> regeneration of the will and courage of a previous age, and ends with
> the hope that the greatest days of the City lie yet ahead.
>
> I live a few miles from Santa Monica High School, in California.
> There, young men and women are taught that America is “a terrorist
> nation,” “one of the worst regimes in history,” that it’s twice-
> elected leader is “the son of the devil,” and dictator of this
> “fascist” country. Further, “patriotism” is taught by dragging an
> American flag across the classroom floor, because the nation’s truest
> patriots, as we should know by now, are those who are most able to
> despise it.
>
> This is only high school, remember: in college things get much, much
> worse.
>
> Two generations, now, are being raised on this poison, and the reason
> for that is this: the enemies of this city cannot come out and simply
> say, “Do not defend the city.” Even the smartest among us can see that
> is simple treason. But they can say, “The City is not worth
> defending.” So they say that, and they say that all the time and in as
> many different ways as they are able.
>
> If you step far enough back to look at the whole of human history, you
> will begin to see a very plain rhythm: a heartbeat of civilization.
> Steep climbs out of disease and ignorance into the light of medicine
> and learning — and then a sudden collapse back into darkness. And it
> is in that darkness that most humans have lived their lives: poor,
> nasty, brutish, and short.
>
> The pattern is always the same: at the height of a civilization’s
> powers something catastrophic seems to occur — a loss of will, a
> failure of nerve, and above all an unwillingness to identify with the
> values and customs that have produced such wonders.
>
> The Russians say a fish rots from the head down. They ought to know.
> It may not be factually true that Nero fiddled while Rome burned, the
> saying has passed into common usage because the image as the ring of
> truth to it: time and time again, the good and decent common people
> have manned the walls of the city, and have been ready to give their
> lives in its defense, only to discover too late that some silk-robed
> son of a bitch has snuck out of the palace at midnight and thrown open
> the gates to the barbarians outside.
>
> And how is this done, this “throwing open of the gates?” How are
> defenders taken off the walls?
>
> Well, most of what I learned about Vietnam I learned from men like
> Oliver Stone. This self-loathing narcissist has repeatedly tried to
> inculcate in me a sense of despair and outrage at my own government,
> my own culture, my own people and ultimately myself. He tried to
> convince me — and he is a skillfull man — that my own government
> murdered my own President for political gain. I am told daily in those
> darkened temples that rogue CIA elements run a puppet government, that
> the real threat to the nation comes from the generals that defend it,
> or from the businessmen that provide the prosperity we take for
> granted.
>
> I sit with others in darkened rooms, watching films like Redacted,
> Stop-Loss, and In the Valley of Elah, and see our brave young soldiers
> depicted as murderers, rapists, broken psychotics or ignorant dupes –
> visions foisted upon me by bitter and isolated millionaires such as
> Brian de Palma and Paul Haggis and all the rest.
>
> I’ve been told this story in some form or another, every day of every
> week of the past 30 years of my life. It wasn’t always so.
>
> But it is certainly so today. And standing against all this hypnotic
> power — the power of the mythmakers in Hollywood, the power of the
> information peddlers in the media, the corrosive power of America-
> hating professors on every campus in America… against all that we find
> an old warrior — a paladin if ever there was one — an old, beat-up
> warhorse standing up in defense of his city one last time. And beside
> him: a wonder. A common person… just a regular mom who goes to work,
> does a difficult job with intelligence and energy and grace and every-
> day competence and then puts it away to go home and have dinner with
> the family.
>
> Against all of that stand these two.
>
> No wonder they must be destroyed. Because — Sarah Palin especially —
> presents a mortal threat to these people who have determined over
> cocktails who the next President should be and who now clearly mean to
> grind into metal shards the transaxle of their credibility in order to
> get the result they must have. Truly, they are before our eyes
> destroying the machine they have built in order to get their victory.
> What the hell is so threatening to be worth that?
>
> Only this: the living proof that they are not needed. Not needed to
> govern, not needed to influence and guide, not needed to lecture us on
> our intellectual and moral failings which are visible only from the
> heights of Manhattan skyscrapers or the palaces up on Mulholland
> Drive. Not needed. We can do it — and do it better — without all of
> them.
>
> When all is said and done, Civilizations do not fall because of the
> barbarians at the gates. Nor does a great city fall from the death
> wish of bored and morally bankrupt stewards presumably sworn to its
> defense. Civilizations fall only because each citizen of the city
> comes to accept that nothing can be done to rally and rebuild broken
> walls; that ground lost may never be recovered; and that greatness
> lived in our grandparents but not our grandchildren. Yes, our betters
> tell us these things daily. But that doesn’t mean we have to believe
> it.
>
> Ask the common people of all politics and persuasions aboard Flight 93
> whether greatness and courage has deserted America. Through this
> magical crystal ball — the one we are using right now — we common
> people can speak to one another. And by reminding ourselves and those
> around us of who we are, where we came from, what we have achieved
> together and of the marvels we have yet to achieve, we may laugh in
> the face of despair and mock those people that think a man with an MBA
> from Harvard knows more about running a gas station than the man that
> actually runs the gas station.
>
> It is the small-town virtues of self-reliance, hard work, personal
> responsibility, and common-sense ingenuity — and not those of the
> preening cosmopolitans that gape at them in mixed contempt and
> bafflement — that have made us the inheritors of the most magnificent,
> noble, decent and free society ever to appear on this earth. This
> Western Civilization… this American City… has earned the right to
> greet each sunrise with a blast of silver trumpets that can bring down
> mountains.
>
> And what, really, is a Legion of Narcissists and a Confederacy of
> Despair against that?
>
> — Bill Whittle lives and works in Los Angeles.
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