Patrick

Sometimes people will visit NoQuarter and slip in a comment that should be repeated. It is my opinion that the below message, from Patrick, is one all of us Independents (me), Democrats and other Americans should take the time to read – in full.

From Patrick:

I wrote this on 9/11, after watching it all happen again…I probably should have posted it in the Thank You thread below, but it also seems appropriate here, because the Erosion this thread speaks of is thanks in large part to you all…

I just watched the Towers fall again.

And the world stopped. It changed. We would never be the same.

Seven years later and here we are. We haven’t had another attack, but we’ve lost thousands of America’s finest. I will not debate the merits of the Iraq war. I believe that I, as a centrist Republican, and all you good people differ on that issue.

But that does not diminish my affection for you, and I do not disparage your opinion. The world, and the issues that comprise it, is painted in shades of grey. Like the ash, like the ash that covered the World’s City.

Seven years later and here we are.

Do you know something? My heart is bursting with sorrow…and joy. I love my country. We came together on Sept. 12, after the ‘dust’ had settled, with a resolve that I contend no other nation in the modern world could muster. We were, for a very short and wonderful time, filled with righteous indignation. We were like the Spartans facing the coming hordes of Xerces. There would be retribution. We were angry, and no matter what any Eurocentric appeaser might say, we had EVERY RIGHT TO BE. But on the fringes of society, had we bothered to notice, we would have seen the crazed faces of the tormentors to come, we would have noticed that the Asylum doors somehow slipped open and the untamed frantic specters of our collective Id had coalesced into something nascent, something so horrifyingly ugly that – had we noticed – we would have crushed, swiftly.

Most of us, both parties, put our faith in a man whom I voted for. To lead, to find those responsible and to flush them out. I only wonder what might have been had President Bush had General David Petreus to lead this effort from the start. I only wonder what might have been had President Bush heeded the advice of people who questioned our ‘after-victory’ strategy, people like John McCain. Remember, almost everyone voted for this war, that’s a fact. Barack Obama did not. He did not have to. He gave a speech. What’s new.

Seven years later and here we are.

Our nation has become polarized, the fanatics have escaped the Asylum, and from out of corporate America, Hope emerged. Oh, sweet heaven above us, he could talk. He presented himself as the embodiment of the righteous answer to every wrong ever perpetrated in the history of this nation. He was Stephen King’s Walking Dude, amassing a collective of ideological stalwarts and confirming the worst fears of those of us in the middle of society, that the Asylum had been purchased, the Corporation was in control, and the collected ravings of our emotional insecurities was steamrolling his way to the White House.

In March, I began having trouble sleeping. I am not lying about this. I would toss and turn in my bed, worrying endlessly about the future for my two boys, one nine, one five. You see, I have studied history throughout my life. I thrive on it, on the science of politics and society. There is one undeniable historical fact that holds up to the tests of history, from cause and effect to policy: No nation state or Empire that has ever embraced appeasement and public self-mockery has ever – EVER – survived.

But I’m a Republican you understand. And I had no hope. In 2004, I wrote in a man I have always respected named John McCain for president (and his close friend Joe Lieberman for his running mate). It’s not that I hate or disrespect President Bush (I know, this is something we disagree on, hopefully respectfully). But I was watching what was happening in Iraq and was frustrated that too much faith had been put in men who were obviously not up to the task of winning this war. I wanted change, not in America, but in Iraq.

But I’m a Republican you understand. And there was no hope. The man I was supporting was ending his campaign, at least that’s what the media told me. He was carrying his own bags through airports and was, according to some, preparing a press conference to call it quits. It didn’t surprise me you see, my party had been taken over by the extreme Right Wing and was dying. There was no hope in the party, we were failing, even from within.

Then something began to happen. John McCain, never a man to quit in the face of adversity, kept soldiering on. He kept moving forward with a singular, positive message of hope and of the goodness of America. He never talked about appeasing the desires and perceptions of our friends in Europe (and they ARE our friends, but we need not seek their approval). He never talked disparagingly about our great nation. He spoke to what it was to be an American, what it was to fight for something you believe in and what it means, ultimately, to put your country first.

Somehow, whether it be divine providence (I don’t believe in such things as divinity and heaven, but I’m human and certainly could be wrong) or simple attrition, by March my party had chosen its candidate – and low and behold it was my hero, John McCain.

The Democrats laughed. “Lovely! Thanks for the 72-year old gift,” was the essential sentiment. But little did they know, five short months, a scorched earth policy and the most misogynistic primary campaign later, John McCain entered the convention period of this political process within 10 points of The One, The Messiah, The Id.

While my party began to coalesce around John McCain, something unseen had been born in the Democratic Party. It seems that the Id was unmasked, and that the base of the party was fractured. A hunter emerged from the pack of howling insanity, stealthy, enraged…and hungry. Hungry for a future bereft of the screaming cries of self-adulation, self-destruction and self-contempt. This proud brown hunter emerged unscathed from the fires of self-destruction, looked around in contempt at the screaming, wailing lies that propped up The One, and walked away. Proudly holding its head high, for the entire nation to see, it simply said “I am not of you. I am not of this madness. I will go from you, I will collect myself and I will return to this. I will return because I am HUNGRY. I am hungry and when the time is right…

I WILL FEED.

The Puma, angry, righteous and glorified, was born out of the ashes of the Democratic Party. With disdain, it flicked the ashes of its shoulders in derision and staked out its territory. It was ready to feed.

I watched in amazement as the Democratic Party split. Stunned and hopeful. “John,” I said to myself. “You have been given a sign, the cat looks West and it looks to you.”

And, ever the wise sage, ever the statesmen and patriot, he reached out his hand to the huntress, never fearful, and offered the nourishment of compromise. “I hear you,” he said. “I hear you and I understand. This is about much more than politics, this is about our nation. This is about our country and this is about ‘us.’

Not ‘me.’ Not ‘you.’ Not ‘the one.’

Us. We differ on so much but we both share the same vision and love of country. I know this. John McCain knows this. You know this. He listened, he offered compromise…

…and the Puma fed.
…and the One blinked.

Faced with the chance to heal the rift, to gather the party faithful, to pull the Ego and the Superego in and make at least an attempt to move on as a whole, the Id faltered. Always narcissistic, the Id would have none of that. You see, when you spend eternity screaming in silence against the roiling mass of nothingness that is self-love, the thought of shared thought, shared vision and shared authority is untenable.

The One chose the Nothing, the Ordinary, the Meek and Vapid. The Puma was enraged, and the hunger returned.

Flash forward, the One ascends from the heavens to the acropolis, and the world watches in awe as the most derivative, pedantic and pedestrian missive ever read to a groveling public is greeted with an orgiastic burst of adulation.

“He is risen, he is here, we are no longer sinners and racists and war fighting heathens. We are enlightened, evolved and progressive. We are the Id. We are the One. We can now like ourselves.”

The Puma was filled with the hunger of indignation. But John McCain remembered and he heard and he knew.

“America is NOT broken. We are NOT the problem.”

“Washington is broken,” he said. And he took the one great leap, the one great step, the one great move towards real hope and real change and chose Destiny.

“World, meet Destiny. Destiny, meet world.”

She was stunning, Destiny, she was nothing that the nation had ever seen. Riding out of the mountains of the last, great frontier, Destiny burst onto the national stage with the steely grace and resolve that has defined this country from its inception.

And with one speech, one simple and authentic life story, Destiny eclipsed the One and now we watch, we watch as the Id flails in insane mockery of everything America stands for. Tears of real and honest joy fell from my eyes as she spoke because she was me. She was my wife, she was my kids…she was America. She slips blithely through life, dealing with every adversity evenly, with the resolve and grace of every man, every woman and every child that ever put its nation in front of itself.

And the Id continues to scream. “Pig! Liar! Cheat! Novice! Whore!…. WOMAN!!” It screams these terms with derision, feeding the lost souls who are forever attached to it, not realizing that those with the ability to reason, those who think for themselves but are nonetheless attracted to the glossy hum of the One, are repulsed. We are all, at once point or another, all of the things he screams, and that fact does not lessen us. We are all Americans…We are all Destiny.

She is America. She is NOT perfect. She is NOT monolithic. She is NOT with you on every issue. You are NOT with her on every issue. But America she is and John McCain had the resolve, when faced with HIS first major decision, to put country first, to put country on the ticket, and to give the middle a place to call home.

“Thank you,” I say to you all. “I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating. Your anger, your hunger for something outside what you were offered did an amazing thing. It gave me my party back, and maybe, just maybe, John McCain will win this thing and help you get your party back.”

Issues count, but character counts more. Policy matters, but courage matters more. Who do you want to face the dark, wailing mass of insanity when the walls of reality start closing in? We know the answer, and America is waking up. Waking up to the Maverick, waking up to Destiny and waking up to the real hope, the real change, the real chance we have

TO TAKE OUR COUNTRY BACK.

I just watched the Towers fall again.

And I am hopeful because somehow, some way, the Hungry Cat, the War-Ravaged Maverick and Destiny’s Icy Grace have become a force, and my country may one day heal.

Take care,
Patrick

Well written, Patrick. Would you like to join the NoQuarters writers group? Drop me a note. I would love to hear more of your thoughts. EastonMcNeal@yahoo.com