I'm a bit out of practice, not that my incoherent ramblings were easy to follow before, but I've just got so much on my mind that I need a healthy outlet...so you all get to suffer for my benefit. Really, I started this blog as a journal for posterity anyway (and you and I are both thinking, "yeah, right"), and I feel, or maybe just hope, that this post is something they will look back on and draw strength from.
For my close friends, this will be more of the same. Please don't just tune out because it's somewhat political (I'm not just talking to you, Wyatt). I know I talk about politics a lot, but to me it's not politics, it's freedom. Politics is the game the idiots we have elected play in order to get their pet projects done so we idiots will keep electing them, all the while belittling or completely ignoring the real issues. The hardest thing about writing what I write is that words of gravity have lost the weight of their meaning because they're used incorrectly in abundance. I will still use them in hopes of stirring something in your hearts that you once knew to be correct.
I've got a feeling welling up in my chest, something that I haven't felt so strongly since June of 2001. Independence Day was approaching, and I felt compelled to write a letter that would arrive home in time to be in context. It was addressed to my ward in general, though really it was something like what I feel compelled to write today, addressed to everyone and no one. I had been living in Russia for over a year, and even though the Soviet Union fell 10 years previously, the ravages of socialism and communism were still prevalent. Unless Putin goes and undoes everything, it may be at least a generation before the majority of the Russian people can appreciate the blessings of freedom, their God-given rights, because their minds are still so entrenched in having the government control their lives.
It was at this point that my love of country and gratitude for the founders and defenders of my country was cemented in my very being. I then became sad for the direction in which I saw we were headed and, recognizing the “Nephite” pride-cycle, I wrote home extolling the virtues of these united States, and forewarned of what must surely be coming to bring us back to humility before God. I got sick, and was sent home two months later. My letter was still hanging by the Bishop’s office on September 11th, and I wish I had thought to take it home, but sadly it is now lost.
My favorite scene in the Lord of the Rings movies is in the second film during the siege of Helm’s Deep. The enemy had breached the impregnable outer wall and were on the verge of taking the fortress. Theoden King is making ready for what he thinks will be his life-ending battle and asks, to himself, “How did it come to this?” You might have the same answer as me, "DUH!" By this point in the movie, the answer was self evident. The King fell asleep at the wheel. He allowed his sniveling advisor Wormtongue to convince him that a few orcs on the border weren't a problem. A few more? Better not to make a fuss. A few more? It's hardly an army. Then there he is, facing annihilation. Don't get the correlation wrong, I'm not saying Obama is Wormtongue. If you were to ask me, I'd say that Obama is Saruman. It's the media that is Wormtongue. Petty name-calling aside, the point here is that it doesn't matter who is the Saruman and who is the Wormtongue, we are Theoden, and we've fallen asleep at the wheel.
I don't believe there will be a terrorist attack this time. That was just a wake-up call, and we hit the snooze button.
Back to words that have lost their weight, I want you to pause for a moment when I ask you what comes to your mind when you think of the word massacre (especially after the previous two sentences)? For me, I go back to the scene I was just talking about in LOTR, mainly because I (we) have nothing better to relate it with. Had the battle been lost, it would have been a massacre, yes? Especially so of the women and children secreted away in the caves. Do you know how many people were killed in the Boston Massacre? Five. Not to devalue human life here, but five people is a massacre? Absolutely. The oppression of the Brits was approaching a boiling point, and was so overwhelming that yes, killing 5 people is a massacre. From Wikipedia:
"The Boston Massacre is one of most important events that turned colonial sentiment against King George III and British acts and taxes. Each of these events followed a pattern of Britain asserting its control, and the colonists chafing under the increased regulation. Events such as the Tea Act and the ensuing Boston Tea Party were examples of the crumbling relationship between Britain and the colonies. The Boston Massacre was the most major events that started the issues between the colonist and British way of rule. While it took five years from the Massacre to outright revolution, it foreshadowed the violent rebellion to come. It also demonstrated how British authority galvanized colonial opposition and protest."
Do you see the scary part in that article? Not anything that was actually written, just that we are almost to a point where we could exchange "US Government" for "Britain" there. Now, conspiracy theorists will tell you that our current state of the union was designed, that certain people have long plotted our Nation's downfall, and they have a pretty convincing argument. Origins aside, what I'm worried about is who will fill the void when it happens. Will it be The Coming Insurrection, or will it be people with Common Sense? I've already gone on WAY too long here, so I'll wrap it up with this:
Do you hear the people sing?
Singing the song of angry men?
It is the music of a people who will not be slaves again.
When the beating of your heart echoes the beating of the drums,
there is a life about to start when tomorrow comes.
Will you join in our crusade? Who will be strong and stand with me?
Beyond the barricade, is there a world you long to see?
Then join in the fight that will give you the right to be free.
Will you give all you can give, so that our banner may advance?
Some will fall and some will live,
will you stand up and take your chance?
The blood of the martyrs will water the meadows of France.
Do you hear the people sing?
Singing the songs of angry men?
It is the music of a people who will not be slaves again
When the beating of your heart, echoes the beating of the drums
There is a life about to start when tomorrow comes.