Posse Incitatus

Memorial Day 2012

My obsession this spring has been the spacious grounds of the recently upgraded ranch.  Weeding, mowing, pest eradication and minor landscaping have dominated my thoughts and intruded into my dreams.  Between that and a hectic work schedule, the onset of Memorial Day came almost as a surprise.  Tempus fugit and all that.

Taking a quiet moment to contemplate Memorial Day this year, I cannot help but feel a sense of loss and bitterness.  Long-time readers know that we have taken it as our honored duty to keep the memory alive of one of our friends - Capt. Sean Grimes - who fell in Iraq seven years ago this spring.

Looking at the disorderly way in which our forces were withdrawn - and the similar sense of urgency in leaving Afghanistan to its fate - it is hard not be bitter about what our military has sacrificed and what our leaders have thrown away.

War is an extension of policy by other means, as Clausewitz pointed out almost 200 years ago, and a rational person can admit that there are times when there is no other recourse than to its dreadful call.

But what if that policy is hopelessly muddled, willfully blind, or cynically driven?

Afghanistan and Iraq were both wars of necessity.  Afghanistan had sheltered our enemies and on Sept. 11, 2001, we saw just how deadly they could be.  Iraq was an ongoing strategic threat, tying down our forces and constantly attacking our aircraft (though without much effect).  Both required a military solution.

Both went well at first, but then bogged down into a foggy counterinsurgency.  We gained the upper hand and did so for comparatively little loss of life - far less than Korea, or Vietnam.  But then a new administration came in, one devoid of strategic vision and looking only to the next opinion poll.  And so we are in retreat.

What did the sacrifice of Sean and his comrades achieve?  What is his legacy?  They gave up all the tomorrows - for what?

A free Iraq?  A modern Afghanistan?

Both teeter on the brink.  And then there is Libya, which has spawned at least one civil war (in Mali) and may itself break up.

At this point, we cannot know.  I believe that Sean died in the opening round - the overture, if you will - of the clash of civilizations between the West and radical Islam.  His actions as a healer proved to those who would listen that there is a better way than one of Islamofascist hate - a path of forgiveness and compassion, of hope and eventual prosperity.

In a larger sense, his sacrifice transcends the political.  Like all of our fallen warriors, he was called to serve, and died for his nation.  It is the ultimate expression of selflessness.  Whatever happens in Iraq, he did not die in vain so long as we honor him, and uphold Freedom.

Remembering Our Fallen Heroes

Let us remember to take a few moments today to give thanks to the courageous men and women of valor who have sacrificed and served their country for over two centuries. Suffering — both physical and psychological — and death have been the fate of tens of thousands of selfless service members, and we must never forget. Their family members, too, have suffered with the loss of their loved ones, and in many sad cases, by living with the consequences of irreparable physical and psychological harm done to their sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, fathers and mothers.

To young people, "Freedom isn't Free" might sound like a platitude or cliche. But all one has to do is be around for a few years and witness the barbarity and horrors occurring daily in our world, and to absorb some of history's painful lessons, to recognize how accurate that statement is.

The fact is, oppression, tyranny and dictatorship in one form or another have been FAR more common in world history than freedom, individual rights, and respect for the dignity of life.

Yet in our often dysfunctional society, it's the athletes, rock stars and Hollywood types who get far more attention and adulation those who made the ultimate sacrifice on our behalf.

A poem that has made the rounds on the Internet points out that soldiers gave us freedom of the press and freedom of assembly, not journalists and organizers. And, irony of irony, soldiers who fought under the flag, and whose coffins were draped by the flag, have given protesters the freedom to burn that very same flag. It's shameful that some choose to do just that, but a testament to the character of those who serve and sacrifice for country. 

It stands to reason that the vast majority of our fallen war heroes would appreciate A) Our acknowledgement and appreciation of their suffering and sacrifice; and B) Our determination not to squander the hard-won freedoms we too often take for granted.

In addition to thanking a vet, visiting a military cemetery or contributing toward veterans organizations such as the Disabled American Veterans, one way we can honor those who gave their lives for our freedom is to make the most of that freedom, and do so with a grateful heart.

And the next time you start feeling sorry for yourself, or think you're having a rough day, just pause for a moment to ponder the anguish, horror and bloodshed of D-Day. That ought to put things in perspective.

 

 

 

Memories of a Deceased Uncle

My extended family just lost a peach of a man. My late father's 87-year-old brother, whose birth name was Marcel but who everyone called "Marcy," succumbed to lung cancer on May 17.

He was one of the nicest guys you could ever hope to meet. Although his political tendencies were decidedly to the left of my father and me, he never exhibited one iota of smug condescension or anger, like so many liberals do these days.

We didn't see our cousins, Uncle Marcy or his wife Aunt Dorothy very often, because they moved out to New Jersey when I was in first grade. But one memory that stands out to this day, nearly 40 years later, is the week we spent visiting our cousins, aunt and uncle in South Orange, New Jersey back in late May 1973, when I was 13 and my brother was 10. 

My dad's sister, her husband and two of their kids drove to our house from their home in suburban Chicago and spent the night, and the next morning we took off for New Jersey. It's possible to make the drive from central Michigan in one day, but it would be an extremely long day.  And with young kids in the station wagon, it would be daunting.

So we spent the night in a central Pennsylvania town and finished the journey the next morning. Coming from the flatlands of central Michigan, traveling through the mountains of Pennsylvania was a real treat. Being in a different region of the country, seeing cousins for the first time, and knowing we would get to visit New York City in a few days were oh, so exciting.

We got out of going to school for four days (Tuesday through Friday after Memorial Day), with our teachers agreeing to assign us homework for the days we would be gone.  But that wasn't the best part. The best part was the great people, including my Uncle Marcy and Aunt Dorothy and their children, with whom we spent time.

As a longtime lover of music, I find that certain tunes bring back powerful memories of chapters of my life. I hear a tune and it often reminds me of not just a year, but a season of that year.

"Daniel" by Elton John was a hit in May 1973. So were "You are the Sunshine of my Life" by Stevie Wonder and "My Love," one of Paul McCartney's better ballads. The Canadian group Skylark had its only hit, a ballad called "Wildflower" with a slow, psychedelic guitar solo.  And a couple of classic rock instrumentals were all over the airwaves in spring 1973: "Frankenstein" by the Edgar Winter Group, and "Hocus Pocus" by Focus (I believe they were a one-hit wonder group from somewhere in the hinterlands of western Europe).

I can still remember my cousins and I imitating that "Hocus Pocus" chorus: "La-de-da, la-de-da, la-de-da, la-de-da, aaaaaaaaaa-a-a-a-a-a-a-ah... then jamming on the "air guitar..." And for some reason, we came up with some strange lyrics for "Daniel," incorporating our newly befriended relatives. For "Daniel," we facetiously sang, "I can see Marcy waving goodbye...Oh, I miss Marcy...Oh, I miss him so much..."

My cousins, John and Paul (NO, they didn't have brothers named George and Ringo), had to go to school those four days between Memorial Day and the next weekend. But it was tough for them, because each night when we were supposed to be going to sleep, we would be horsing around, cracking jokes and shooting the bull until....oh, who knows, midnight or 1 a.m.?  However late it was, it was too late for 11- and 13-year-olds who have to get up at 7 a.m.

To this day, my brother who will turn 50 in July and I like to imitate one of the older sisters of John and Paul waking them up early in the morning with her New Jersey accent: "Jawn and Pawul, it's seven o'clawak".... And Paul's response: "I'm FRIGGIN' TIRED!"

I guess this was a "you had to be there" type of memory.  But it's something my brother and I crack up about to this day. A year from now will be the 40th anniversary. One of the highlights of that trip was walking through Manhattan and heading up to the Empire State Building's open-air 86th floor observatory and the 102nd floor, enclosed observatory, which is pretty small when you get right down to it.

At a young age, I came to appreciate my Uncle Marcy's wry demeanor. He smoked a pipe, and seemed to delight in cracking subtle jokes with his dry sense of humor and gentle digs at others (no malice EVER intended!). We wished our uptight dad were that easy-going. (For what it's worth, we appreciate our dad a LOT more now than we did then.)

Little did I know that 15 years later I would get a job in New Jersey and spend some great weekends with my aunt, uncle and some of my cousins at their beautiful home at Highland Lakes. It was located on a lake in Sussex County near the New York border, a beautiful wooded and mountainous area. New Jersey, despite often enduring harsh and derisive criticism as a toxic waste dump, actaully has plenty of natural beauty and many pleasant cities with awesome architecture and true character.

The years roll on and we're all getting older. My brother and I now have worries we never considered back in 1973. But we also have wonderful memories. When I think of my late Uncle Marcy and his friendly presence, it's memories of loved ones, the Allegheny Mountains of Pennsylvania, great tunes on the radio, the tree-lined streets and Victorian homes of South Orange, NJ, and the bustling streets of Manhattan.

Memories are like a person's life: varied, multi-faceted, both good and bad, rich and vibrant. I am convinced that replaying and indulging in those memories is part of the process of accepting the death of a loved one.

 

The Lockstep Democrats

For all their talk about diversity (i.e., skin color and/or sexual preference), the Democrats are amazingly uniform. You won't see a pro life speaker at a Democrat convention; you are not likely to hear any Democrat pols advocate for vouchers or charter schools in front of their fellow Dems (mustn't upset the sacred teachers unions); and whenever one of their own gets in deep doo-doo for transgressions that would get a Republican run out of town on a rail, the Dems will faithfully circle the wagons and demonize the critics (see Bill Clinton, 1998).

This past weekend Newark Mayor Cory Booker, a sharp guy and pretty darned reasonable as Democrats go, spoke out against the demonization of Bain Capital and venture capitalists during his appearance on NBC's "Meet the Press."  Could it be because Newark is home to many financial firms that engage in investment banking? That probably has a lot to do with it, but it's also possible Booker is just not a malleable soldier of progressivism, willing to march to the beat of his party's drums.

Former Obama administration auto czar Steven Rattner, a veteran of Wall Street, also criticized the attacks against Romney for his Bain Capital involvement.

You'd have thought Booker and Rattner had come out and denounced FDR, heaped criticism on Social Security and vowed to help repeal Obamacare. The lockstep Democrats reacted with Orwellian efficiency, apparently pressuring them to publicly walk back their comments. Both did so on MSNBC, surprise surprise.

Former Democrat Congressman Harold Ford Jr. of Tennessee, like Booker an occasional member of the "Meet the Press" roundtable whose views are far more moderate than those of most Democrats, has also been critical of the president's Romney/Bain attacks, but hasn't backtracked. Watch your back, Harold!

A few years ago, many leftists began using a derogatory term for conservative blacks — "house negro" —harkening back to the days of slavery when those who sucked up to their master got to cook, wash dishes, make the beds and do other housework, rather than perform the backbreaking work in the fields like the other slaves. It was the late black activist Malcolm X who coined the term back in the 1960s.

Amusingly, the hard-core leftists who despise conservative blacks are clueless about the irony of their metaphor. They see this as a black-white thing, with the blacks being the slaves in an oppressive system, and the whites being the masters.

It doesn't take an Einstein to realize that the Democrats are running the plantation of lockstep leftist thought, and blacks, be they conservatives like Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas or Congressman Allen West, or liberals like Booker and Ford, often will dissent. They are, after all, human beings with a great deal of variety in philosophy, life experiences, temperament and personality. They are not just guaranteed leftist robots who will never ask questions and never give a moment's thought to voting for someone other than a Democrat.

It is truly insulting to demonize blacks who differ from Democrat party orthodoxy. Oh my GOSH, an educated, articulate and intelligent black man who DARES to speak out against the Democrats and liberalism? PERISH THE THOUGHT! This is an example of how warped liberalism is, and how paranoid liberals are of substantive dissent.

Just ask Sen. Joe Lieberman and former Senator Zell Miller, both Democrats, what happens when you wander off the plantation. The Democrats are a "big tent" party for special interest groups including environmentalists, gays, trial attorneys, labor unions, teachers' unions, the ACLU, NAACP, La Raza, et al. But they are a benevolent dictatorship when it comes to diversity of opinion and ideology.

Destructive Detroiters

I can't help but wonder if masochism is inherent in the typical Detroiter's mindset.

A few weeks ago, the Posse noted that Detroit narrowly avoided having an emergency financial manager appointed, and/or filing for bankruptcy, because the state of Michigan and city had entered into a consent agreement.

Now it looks like the city is having second thoughts and attempting to throw a monkey wrench into the process.

Krystal Crittendon, the city's top attorney, prepared a legal analysis of the consent agreement and sent a letter to Michigan Gov. Rick Snyder and Treasurer Andy Dillon, calling the agreement "void and unenforceable" because the state allegedly owes the city an outstanding debt.

Detroit's new charter gives Crittendon the power to challenge the agreement without approval of the mayor's office or city council, and she is expected to file suit in a circuit court by next week. Crittendon's claim is that the state owes Detroit $4.75 million for a 2010 water bill and $224 million in state revenue sharing.  The state denies both alleged debts.

Once again, Detroit shoots itself in the foot with a boneheaded move that will cost taxpayers more money (a worse credit rating raises borrowing costs), delay implementation of a solid fiscal recovery, and possibly lead to bankruptcy (or at the very least, a state-imposed emergency manager).

The foolish "leaders" of Detroit are, to put it bluntly, like an ugly, painful boil that must be lanced. It is practically to the point where a total fiscal collapse, followed by absolute state control for an indefinite period would serve as the radical shock treatment this hidebound city needs.

Let the Democrats and their union patrons cry and wail to high Heaven. This is long past due, and Detroiters had better realize it.

But more important, wouldn't it be great if large numbers of heretofore loyal Democrats and liberals would rationally, logically and objectively assess this reality: Their side has had its way, uninterrupted, unimpeded, uninhibited, for FIVE DECADES in the Motor City, and look what the malignant tumor of progressivism has wrought. Liberalism is like Typhoid Mary on steroids.  The fact that tens of millions of Americans will vote for Barack Obama this November ought to be causing many of us to lose sleep.

Sympathy for the Fraud Five

The advent of warm weather has kept me far away from the computer – there is simply too much to do at the ranch.

However, I cannot let an article as perfect as this go by without comment:

Jalen Rose not 'bitter' over Michigan president's stance toward basketball era

What makes this article so beautiful is Rose’s utter lack of self-awareness.  He seems blissfully ignorant of the shame his actions and those of his teammates brought upon the University of Michigan, or why the university president may not want to celebrate his dubious “achievements.”

Rose was of course part of the “Fab Five,” a group of corrupt freshman basketball players who made it to the NCAA finals before losing at the last second to Duke.

Thus they failed to win either a conference or national title, but are still venerated in Ann Arbor because they wore baggy shorts.

The comments on the article are full of the usual sturm und drang, but once again I note that no one has fully addressed the real problem of the Fraud Five – that we do not know how far their corruption extended.

U-M “booster” and criminal mastermind Ed Martin died before the investigation was complete and many of his secrets died with him.  Martin was able to lavish money on the athletes thanks to the profits from his gambling operation and it is this element that Skunk Bear faithful never want to address.

You see, since Martin depended on profits from his gambling to pay the players, it would be a simple thing for one of them to shave a point here or there, or even offer a tip that a “sure thing” was not as sure as it looked.  One could even make money on the over-under or fail to make the spread on a blowout.  In short, there are lots of ways to “fix” a game short of throwing it.

I have no specific information, but it seems inconceivable to me that at some point one or more of these players did not try to compensate their benefactor by shaving a few points or otherwise boosting his haul from a bet.

Needless to say, none of the athletes would ever admit to this even now, as the damage to their reputation would be catastrophic.  Pete Rose remains banned from baseball for gambling and were it to emerge that any of the games of that era were even slightly influenced, a similar ban would likely be put in place, barring the Fraud Five not only from their alma mater, but also professional basketball as well.

The problem is that once one bears the taint of wrongdoing, no one is sure where it ends.

Jalen Rose has little credibility – and his teammates wisely are leaving the issue dormant.

Still, there is a case to be made for U-M restoring its squalid banners to the rafters of Crisler Arena.  After all, the Skunk Bears continue to tout themselves as the “winningest football program ever,” despite the fact that several of their early teams consisted entirely of non-student hirelings.

 A win is a win, and one could argue that the Wolverines would at least be consistent.