Is Anyone from Tunisia, Egypt, Jordan, or Yemen Reading This?

If they are, I think I have something to say

A Contemporary Military Map of the battle of RI. Library of Congress ID g3772n.ar300400. Public Domain.

There's always a tendency to speak only of current examples, but the great democracies of the Western world had centuries of, often very bloody, legal and political history leading to their current status, a history that the Islamic world does not have. They also have a culture that held certain things as sacred, certain non-biblical things in fact, that the Islamic world did not hold to.

Instead, we see in the Islamic world a great desire to keep Islam in the government, even as separation of church and state is necessary, and a great desire for a morality and justice that Feudalism long ago hardened Europes heart against. We see in the Islamic world a desire at once for freedom and order, at once for individual and group dignity, and we see fights within society that must be resolved.

As such, I wanted to share the story of a former democracy, one that was absorbed in to America in 1776, its traditions and system destroyed in favor of the federal constitution. A democracy created by a pastor, a Puritan pastor, with freedom of conscience for all and a work ethic that made its small, rocky-soiled state an early center of industry and commerce in America. That democracy is Providence Plantations.

The pastors name was Roger Williams. He grew up the son of a wise and just merchant and trader, who gave to the poor in life and in his will. His home parish in London was the sight of great religious tumult, including the burning at stake of many puritan martyrs who died for nothing more then their belief in God. Graduating from Cambridge with a degree in theology and great life experience, Roger Williams headed across the seas.

He may well have been driven out, as he was already at that time quite controversial, and in 1630 he began his mission to the puritans of New England, only to find just as much controversy in America. Among the places he preached the longest and loudest was the town of Salem, which if it had fully received him, might have averted its horrendous infamy for burning withces at stake 60 years later. Salem denied him, and thus Salem carried its shame, and still does to this day.

Salem denied him so thoroughly that he was about to be deported back to England, at which time he fled southwest, to the lands of the Narragansett Indians. There he befriended many, and was given the gift of land. He named it Providence, in honor and thanks towards God. In later years, the colony would repay the kindness of the Narragansett by housing Quakers and Jews fleeing form their own persecution, thus demonstrating the true refuge, forgiveness, justice and charity of Christ.

In 1643 he headed back to England to acquire a charter for his colony. The toes he stepped on long ago forgotten, the English granted it to him, and he incorporated three towns, Providence the capital, Newport, and Portsmouth. He also, on the way there, wrote a book on the Indians he knew, titled "Key into the Languages of America," granting him respect on his authority for perhaps the first time in his life.

He was not unknown to commerce, starting afterwards a Indian trading post at Cocumscussoc, but when the needs of his colony called him, he gave it up, selling it likely at a loss in 1651 in order to head back to England to have his bastion of freedoms charter confirmed. Thus he showed, at once, a skill with Mammon, and a willingness to disregard it for what was more important. He actually failed, but his fellow John Clarke succeeded, gaining a full and correct charter by 1663, while he handled important family business that held him back until 1654.

Unfortunately King Phillips War (1675) did see his colony burned to the ground, but he also lived to see it rebuilt. He stayed a preacher always, and kept his colony a free refuge always, open to all religious beliefs, and all religious debate. The example he set and the sheep he led would become the tolerant, but comparatively pious, religious traditions of modern America, even though his democracy was later swallowed up.

Samuel Slater, in 1790, built the first successful cotton textile mill in America at Blackstone River. Manufacturing would grow more rapidly in Rhode Island then almost any other American colony. The people of Rhode Island kept that free spirit alive, striking against unfair merchants in 1783 and refusing to participate in the war of 1812, and did away with all slavery in its limits voluntarily under the State Emancipation Act of 1784. Thus they let their religion, true religion (Isaiah 51), guide them as their hearts and law were free!

Sources:

http://www.rogerwilliams.org/biography.htm

http://www.rootsweb.ancestry.com/~rigenweb/history.html

Hope's for Whiners!

Neve Glacier and Snowfield Peak, courtesy of the US Geological Survey. Public Domain

There's something about the traditional name for the Saturday before Easter that kind of gets on my nerves.

I always hear people talk about HOPE, as if it's some kind of penultimate important good. Usually these people think of themselves as victims, people who believe that there hope has been stripped of them by somebody else, people who believe that unless someone else gives them their change back, they won't be able to make enough money to eat. But WHY????

And further, even if we are hopeless, helpless and hapless, (. thank You, the Holy Spirit, for language, thank You for poetry, thank You for song and thank You for beauty and feeling. Amen.) why not just keep breathing and look down the road, and appreciate all the little things in your life? Why don't we take things one step at a time, not looking back, and not really looking forward either? Why don't we just accept those who are before us, and the task and work that is in front of us, and understand that no matter what is done to us, we still have the CHOICE to make the best of it. Further, without hardship, trial and, yes, suffering, you would never grow, you would never learn, you would never become strong and learn the pride and joy that comes from strength, and you could not truly have life. And without goals of YOUR OWN that you've made for YOURSELF to do YOURSELF, you eliminate the best kind!

For me, Easter is not really about Hope, it's about Love. A loving, beautiful God who, not even asking about the cost, took from our shoulders the only thing that could truly break us, the only thing that we have no choice over, the only thing that we CANNOT overcome on our own. The thing that, by it's very definition, is outside of our control. Death, and the imperfection that, by every angle and understanding be it biological, moral or otherwise, caused it. Through Christ, all of us can truly live.

Titian, Ancona Crucifixtion, 1558

Why the Confederate Flag?

Civil War Monument and Cemetery in Owingsville, KY. Attribution conditional Fair Use license by C. Bedford Crenshaw

You look out at the great sacrifices of the past, those who have come, fought and died for family, land and what they valued, for the old and the young, giving their lives when they had barely begun for a home they would never see again, entire generations massacred, their blood trampled in the wine press. Proud flags flying high over the hills, strong spirits screaming loud through the valleys, young men in their prime, following orders from generals who drive up death tolls because they don't understand that the protective formations they were taught so long ago are killing their men in greater numbers now. Deaths by the thousands, thousands of unique individuals destroyed from the earth, cast to the uncertainty of the cold grave with bullets in their chest, broken bones, agonizing infections and tears of terror and rivers of blood dripping down their face as they look up in to the eternal sky for their final moments on Earth.

It's no wonder that such a thing would leave an imprint on a people. And it's no surprise that those who lived took back both horror and pride at their ordeal and their survival. It is true that it has not been forgotten, though it is untrue that people are bitter - that's something Yankees like to think. But there is a proud rivalry, and like it or not, people down here think of themselves as American AND Southern at equal levels.

It is true that to some people find the Confederate Battle Flag offensive. It is also true that it stands for many things to many people.

To me, this symbol stands for the following: standing up for yourself, especially local vs. national, the cultures of the Southeastern United States, both refined and otherwise, rebellion from oppression, and standing up for the weak against the moneyed interest of Northern Industrialists, and a better, more honest America. There are two groups of people who object tot this symbol.

Addressing the first group: This symbol also stands for History, and who Southerners are as a people, and that's where I think some people, though they do not realize the source, object to it. Some people would erase the past. This is especially common among the white, educated wealthy Southerner who doesn't want to be associated with redneck land, slavery and past abuses. They would take all the pain, all the death, the agony, the abuses, and throw it out, but they don't realize it runs in their blood, and they don't realize that it's a complete package. You can't have a past and have no pain, you can't have a future and have no values, and values are rooted in the past as they have to be. You can't stand for something - and destroy yourself so someone doesn't get angry at you or feel hurt.

Some people would lie, and demand that others do so. The minute they here a criticism, an idea they don't like, they demand an apology, surrounding themselves with yes men. They demand conformity, comfort, and what isn't theirs. They don't care what's inside the dish, they never did and never will. To them, there's no value to anything that can't be seen and therefore doesn't touch their petty hearts. As we lie and lie and lie, our enemies become clouded in fog, our up becomes down, our down becomes up, our anger becomes passive aggression, divisions become permaneant as people are too afraid to express them, and they pass them on to their children and their friends to express themselves the only way they can. Lawfulness becomes a joke, and the individual becomes condemned to a spiral of delusion, deceit, and paranoid back watching.

But there's one other group, those who have memories of their own, and those who believe they are standing up for them. These memories are sad, and true, and I deeply regret what has happened to those people. But to allow these racial terrorists to steal symbols that stand for the South, good and bad, is to let them win. See, to let them steal our values, our past, our lives from us by the inevitable rubbing out that accompanies this silencing is to ennoble them, to promote them, to give them free space in our hearts and minds, in our memories and in our soul. You take the symbols, the analogies, the stories, the way of living, and you push it out of public sight, along with those who still cherish it lovingly delivered to Satan for his evil use. It is to give them, our Satan, Southern history, to give them Southern culture, to give them the South, along with many of the people who reside in it.

You can't destroy everything just because of a flaw, for if you did, the fires would burn the entire Earth to ashes, for there is nothing that is flawless on Earth. There is still a lot that is beautiful about the South: the millitary tradition, the sense of honor, the hospitality, the delicate style and refinement of Southern art, architecture and design, an extremely open society that includes people much more readily then it excludes them, the sense of history and the deeper side of life, and a quiet stubborn strength that will not submit to anyone, under any conditions, often to the aggravation of Dixieland itself!

Those whose character is destroyed have no values, no roots, no sense of history or depth, no idea of who they are. Maybe they can discover it, but that takes years, years wasted, years lost, years never seen again. Why waste the youth of our children over pettiness? Especially since they may well turn out exactly like we did anyways.

We can't just abandon our past. It is part of us, and we are a product of our past more then anything else. The Confederate Flag will continue to be the standard of this website, for now and the future to come, exactly because I hope to promote its use as a symbol of the South and Culture in general.

Why didn't Boris get it?

Image Courtesy of Executive Office of the President of the United States, Public domain, accessed from Wikimedia Commons

To take one last jab at the end of the Nobel Prize hanogver, I would like to suggest that the next Nobel Peace Prize go to Boris Yeltsin. He should've won it this year. After the fall of the USSR, amidst domestic terrorism, missile threats, a hurt national pride, a collapsed economy, and a nuclear security crisis that shook the spirit of the world to its core, he kept the ship sailing smooth. He even handled himself coolly and effectively when, in 1994, a Norwegian meterological research team stupidly made their weather rocket from Spitzbergen appear on radar in the likeness of an American ICBM headed towards Moscow.

Unfortunately, Yeltsin died 2 years ago, so he would not be alive to accept the prize. It is sad that he was not honored in his lifetime.

Many nations split off from Russia after the fall of the USSR, taking their own political and economic trajectories and sometimes, a little government assets from Mother Russia. Two of these, the Ukraine and Kazakhstan, took with them a part of the USSR's nuclear arsenal. It took years to disarm them. Several others were involved in civil wars, and monstorous levels of inflation.

Yeltsin created the CIS, or Commonwealth of Independent States, to give Russia a remaining feel of empire, and give the new countries a forum to unite for military protection, negotiate trade conditions, coordinate nuclear security and counterterrorism, and allow states like Kazakstan and Kyrgyzstan with important former Soviet government functions to continue their business for Russia, keeping employment in the country and saving Russia from having to build new facilities. Also allowing all millitary forces common training facilities, so that all of them may be measurable millitary powers beyond their size and prosperity. He kept these nations stable, kept his own nation stable, and prevented at least one possible horrifying nuclear action in 1994.

Some people criticize Boris for the instability in Russia's economy, but Russia's economy was ruined long before Boris took the helm and decades of Communist abuse would not be healed overnight. Although I'm no expert on Russia's economy, I do know that Boris did raise hell in the Aluminum markets, bringing home massive profits, exports and employment for Soviet military related aluminum plants at the expense of virtually every developed country with cheap electric power.

Barrack Obama does not live up to names like Theodore Roosevelt, Nelson Mandela, and Martin Luther King Jr in ANY aspect of his sacrifices, efforts, or results achieved. Maybe he will someday, but he has not yet. I don't know about sacrifices, but in terms of results, Boris certainly lives up to them.

But then again, we were too late anyways. Rest in peace Boris. How I regret that no one was there to give you the recognition that you deserve.

The American Rifle

Copyright Wikimedia User Hmaag, GNU License 1.2

From the edays of settlement, resisting indians, and hunting wild turkey, the firearm has had a place in the American heart. With the gun comes warriordom; you are a fighter to be reckoned with as long as you have a gun in your hand.

For some people, this means defending against oppresive governments or foreign invaders, for others it means hunting and providing for their family in the way that nature made us too, for still others it is a defense against criminals and protecting your property. For a few very wicked souls, it means inflicting your evil on others.

Firearms crimes are often cited by gun critics as a reason to ban or phase out or limit gun ownership. There are several weakpoints in their argument: 1) criminals don't obey the law, 2) few criminals want to die or face a chance of death, and 3) statistically, even if you will only nail your bandit 20% of the time, and he nails you the other 80, you, as a law-abiding citizen, still have the advantage, because he must steal almost every day, and most American citizens will probably only be robbed maybe once in their lifetime. Even those who have it the worse will hardly face it everyday.

Also, in Europe the nation with the highest gun ownership rate, Switzerland, a nation where even millitary rifles are legal for most men and there is a holiday to celebrate their gun ownership tradition, has the lowest crime rate.

America is a violent country, and always has been, and will be for quite some time. This is not entirely a bad thing. That natural spunk and energy has made us a mighty force throughout the entire world with our innovation, curiosity, rebellion, activism, entrepreneurship and many other products of that same bloody mind - we are a Sanguine country, hear us roar. But it is true that, no matter what we do, our crime rates will always be higher then Englands, as that freedom of mind makes us prone to both good and evil.

What good are scientists anyways?

I know it is cliche these days to say such and such has been proved by science. But science doesn't actually prove anything. To prove, you have to avoid all fallacies, all holes in logic, but there is one very critical hole in logic that science cannot ever avoid, the fallacy of induction. If something works in one place and one time, it therefore works in every place and every time.

Now I'm not saying that scientists are actually worthless, but I am saying that we should ask ourselves, what are they for? What do they do? What are they responsible for? How do they know? And we should ask it because we ourselves are losing touch with reality.

Jesus has commandeered this blog! Hallelujah!

I know I have not always placed my priorities well in life. I've been worried, been working myself beyond prudence, have even occasionally missed the day of rest. That's why God inflicted me with an ulcer, a peptic ulcer, even though I'm only 20 years old.

See, in life, nervousness is a common decision, an understandable decision, and the worse decision we ever make. It makes us worse drivers, worse thinkers, worse performers of good works. But even more then that, focusing our lives on everyday concerns drains us away from what we should really be concerned about, what we do with our life!

Jesus wants us to lighten up, trust him a little, and be thankful for all the beauty, friendship, and bounty he surrounds us with. And if you don't believe in him, still, reconsider letting your life revolve around worry, and at least appreciate the glory of the mountains, the sun, and human love and heroism.

So next time your life seems to be running itself down the drain, ask yourself, what am I living for?

CARPE DIEM!