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Beware Charismatic Men Who Preach ‘Change’
Editor, Times-Dispatch:
Each year I get to celebrate Independence Day twice. On June 30 I
celebrate my independence day and on July 4 I celebrate
America
’s. This year is special, because it marks the 40th anniversary of my
independence. On June 30, 1968, I escaped communist
Cuba
and a few months later I was in the
United States
to stay. That I happened to arrive in
Richmond
on Thanksgiving Day is just part of the story, but I digress.
I’ve thought a lot about the anniversary this year. The
election-year rhetoric has made me think a lot about
Cuba
and what transpired there. In the late 1950s, most Cubans thought
Cuba
needed a change, and they were right. So when a young leader came along,
every Cuban was at least receptive.
When the young leader spoke eloquently and passionately and denounced
the old system, the press fell in love with him. They never questioned
who his friends were or what he really believed in.
When he said he would help the farmers and the poor and bring free
medical care and education to all, everyone followed. When he said he
would bring justice and equality to all, everyone said ‘Praise the
Lord.’ And when the young leader said, ‘I will be for change and
I’ll bring you change,’ everyone yelled, ‘Viva Fidel!’
But nobody asked about the change, so by the time the executioner’s
guns went silent the people’s guns had been taken away. By the time
everyone was equal, they were equally poor, hungry, and oppressed. By
the time everyone received their free education it was worth nothing.
By the time the press noticed, it was too late, because they were now
working for him. By the time the change was finally implemented
Cuba
had been knocked down a couple of notches to Third-World status.
By the time the change was over more than a million people had taken
to boats, rafts, and inner tubes. You can call those who made it ashore
anywhere else in the world the most fortunate Cubans.
And now I’m back to the beginning of my story.
Luckily, we would never fall in
America
for a young leader who promised change without asking, what change? How
will you carry it out? What will it cost
America
? Would we?
Manuel Alvarez Jr.
Sandy Hook
, VA
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Obama’s
recent setbacks are of his own making | Joel Belz
You're beginning to hear it now—and I predict the accusatory chant
will pick up in volume between now and the gathering of the
Democratic National Convention in Denver in late August. It will
sound like thunder by Nov. 4.. ..more
21 Jul 2008 08:19 pm
Sen. Barack Obama said it was "fair" to notice that he
did not anticipate that the surge of U.S. troops into Iraq would be
coincident with the so-called Sunni Awakening and the decisions of
Shia militias to reduce their footprints, the combination of which
led to measurable declines in violence....more
BY WILL MANLY
This column was first published April 14 in The Hays
Daily News in Hays, Kansas.
Dear Barack Obama:
I grew to like you over the last year.
I’ve always thought of you as dangerously naive at best. Eloquent,
gifted, genuine, yes. But dangerously naive at best.
I couldn’t vote for you — but not because of your funny name or
your lunatic pastor. I couldn’t vote for you because you say we
should raise taxes (even on the rich, who I’m convinced already pay
too much), and because you say we should abandon Iraq (which I’m
convinced would be surrendering a war we must win), and because you
don’t respect the Second Amendment (which I’m convinced should
disqualify any politician from any office).
Still, I’ve liked your message of unity and your ability to inspire.
And, since your rise I’ve hunted, quite frantically, for young
conservative leaders with your talent. (To my relief, I found Bobby
Jindal.)
And I’ve long said if you beat Hillary Clinton, you will have done
your country a tremendous service. But anymore I’m having a harder
and harder time rooting for you.
First came your wife’s comment about being proud of America for the
first time — conveniently, right after you started winning
primaries. Then came your own words about your grandmother, who is
just a “typical white person” — a racist, or at least someone
with racist tendencies. (I’m a “typical white person,” I
suppose, and I’m no racist. In fact, little makes me angrier than
when it’s insinuated I am.)
Sometimes people say things they don’t really mean. But this is a
pattern.
Last week we heard your comments about small-town America. Someone at
a San Francisco fundraiser asked you why it’s so hard for Democrats
to win in rural areas. You said:
“You go into some of these small towns in Pennsylvania, and like a
lot of small towns in the Midwest, the jobs have been gone now for 25
years and nothing’s replaced them … So it’s not surprising then
that they get bitter, they cling to guns or religion or antipathy to
people who aren’t like them … ”
Is that a minority? HEY CLETUS, GET THE GUN! (If only we had a job to
go to, some time in the last 25 years … )
Here’s a thought: Maybe gun rights voters know gun control laws kill
people and steal freedom.
Here’s a thought: Maybe some of us have moral objections to an
immigration system that forces rule-followers to wait decades for
legal status, and rewards border-violators with amnesty.
Here’s a thought: Maybe some Americans cling to their church because
their pastor is a nice person, because they find love there, because
there they have something they can believe in.
Here’s a thought: Maybe, just maybe, us simpletons in small towns
find it harder to be bigoted than all o’ y’all cityfolk. Maybe, in
small towns, where everybody knows your name — and how hard you
work, if you pay your taxes, how well you treat your neighbors, how
often you volunteer in the community, and whether or not you’re a
good parent — people see the content of your character, so they
don’t give a hoot about the color of your skin. (But I grew up in a
small town where about a third of the potion is of a different race
than me. What do I know?)
And here’s my favorite thought of all: Maybe small-town folks are
— really — capable of thinking. All on our own.
You’re wrong about why small-town Americans don’t vote for
Democrats.
We don’t vote for Democrats because we’re self-reliant so we
don’t like the government trying to “solve” everything for us.
And because you tell your rich friends in San Francisco that we’re
dumb. And because, each election, whichever one of you is running for
president traipses all over the country telling us you have all the
answers, that you’re the one on our side, that you respect our way
of life. But each time, a little bit here and there slips out — and
by the end of the campaign, we can tell what you think about us. And
we manage to learn who you really are.
And we see you’re just a horse’s ass.
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In election 2008, don’t forget Angry White
Man
Gary Hubbell
February 9, 2008
There is a great amount of interest in this year’s
presidential elections, as everybody seems to recognize that our next
president has to be a lot better than George Bush. The Democrats are
riding high with two groundbreaking candidates — a woman and an
African-American — while the conservative Republicans are in a
quandary about their party’s nod to a quasi-liberal maverick, John
McCain.
Each candidate is carefully pandering to a smorgasbord of
special-interest groups, ranging from gay, lesbian and transgender
people to children of illegal immigrants to working mothers to
evangelical Christians.
There is one group no one has recognized, and it is the group that will
decide the election: the Angry White Man. The Angry White Man comes from
all economic backgrounds, from dirt-poor to filthy rich. He represents
all geographic areas in America, from urban sophisticate to rural
redneck, deep South to mountain West, left Coast to Eastern Seaboard.
His common traits are that he isn’t looking for anything from anyone
— just the promise to be able to make his own way on a level playing
field. In many cases, he is an independent businessman and employs
several people. He pays more than his share of taxes and works hard.
The victimhood syndrome buzzwords — “disenfranchised,”
“marginalized” and “voiceless” — don’t resonate with him.
“Press ‘one’ for English” is a curse-word to him. He’s used to
picking up the tab, whether it’s the company Christmas party, three
sets of braces, three college educations or a beautiful wedding.
He believes the Constitution is to be interpreted literally, not as a
“living document” open to the whims and vagaries of a panel of
judges who have never worked an honest day in their lives.
The Angry White Man owns firearms, and he’s willing to pick up a gun
to defend his home and his country. He is willing to lay down his life
to defend the freedom and safety of others, and the thought of killing
someone who needs killing really doesn’t bother him.
The Angry White Man is not a metrosexual, a homosexual or a victim.
Nobody like him drowned in Hurricane Katrina — he got his people
together and got the hell out, then went back in to rescue those too
helpless and stupid to help themselves, often as a police officer, a
National Guard soldier or a volunteer firefighter.
His last name and religion don’t matter. His background might be
Italian, English, Polish, German, Slavic, Irish, or Russian, and he
might have Cherokee, Mexican, or Puerto Rican mixed in, but he considers
himself a white American.
He’s a man’s man, the kind of guy who likes to play poker, watch
football, hunt white-tailed deer, call turkeys, play golf, spend a few
bucks at a strip club once in a blue moon, change his own oil and build
things. He coaches baseball, soccer and football teams and doesn’t ask
for a penny. He’s the kind of guy who can put an addition on his house
with a couple of friends, drill an oil well, weld a new bumper for his
truck, design a factory and publish books. He can fill a train with
100,000 tons of coal and get it to the power plant on time so that you
keep the lights on and never know what it took to flip that light
switch.
Women either love him or hate him, but they know he’s a man, not a
dishrag. If they’re looking for someone to walk all over, they’ve
got the wrong guy. He stands up straight, opens doors for women and says
“Yes, sir” and “No, ma’am.”
He might be a Republican and he might be a Democrat; he might be a
Libertarian or a Green. He knows that his wife is more emotional than
rational, and he guides the family in a rational manner.
He’s not a racist, but he is annoyed and disappointed when people of
certain backgrounds exhibit behavior that typifies the worst stereotypes
of their race. He’s willing to give everybody a fair chance if they
work hard, play by the rules and learn English.
Most important, the Angry White Man is pissed off. When his job site
becomes flooded with illegal workers who don’t pay taxes and his wages
drop like a stone, he gets righteously angry. When his job gets shipped
overseas, and he has to speak to some incomprehensible idiot in India
for tech support, he simmers. When Al Sharpton comes on TV, leading some
rally for reparations for slavery or some such nonsense, he bites his
tongue and he remembers. When a child gets charged with carrying a
concealed weapon for mistakenly bringing a penknife to school, he takes
note of who the local idiots are in education and law enforcement.
He also votes, and the Angry White Man loathes Hillary Clinton. Her
voice reminds him of a shovel scraping a rock. He recoils at the mere
sight of her on television. Her very image disgusts him, and he cannot
fathom why anyone would want her as their leader. It’s not that she is
a woman. It’s that she is who she is. It’s the liberal victim groups
she panders to, the “poor me” attitude that she represents, her
inability to give a straight answer to an honest question, his tax
dollars that she wants to give to people who refuse to do anything for
themselves.
There are many millions of Angry White Men. Four million Angry White Men
are members of the National Rifle Association, and all of them will vote
against Hillary Clinton, just as the great majority of them voted for
George Bush.
He hopes that she will be the Democratic nominee for president in 2008,
and he will make sure that she gets beaten like a drum.
Gary Hubbell is a registered independent voter and a former
Democrat. He has not joined the Republican Party because of the
Republicans' poor record on environmental issues.
Gary Hubbell is a writer, photographer,
location scout for films and photo shoots, and a ranch real estate
broker. He writes a monthly column for the Aspen Times Weekly. He can be
reached at
www.writerphotographer.biz.
and www.aspenranchrealestate.com
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