Sunday Funnies (Delayed); Jeffrey Epstein Didn’t Kill Himself

Was there ever a meme that blew up like “Jeffrey Epstein didn’t kill himself”? It’s a sign of a healthy society, of course, we don’t believe obvious bullshit no matter who tells us, or how often they try. When even corporations get in on it, it marks a whole new level. In truth, I feel better about America this week than I have in a while. Let’s look!

This one is probably a fake!

And a few thousand more. Typical smart, funny, non-credulous Americans, doing what we do best, laughing at people who think they’re better than us. meanwhile…

Here he is in all his soy flavored glory. He whose very name will get you blocked on Facebook (even though Schiff himself published it) with some of his friends. Seems like a bit of a pattern there to me. Nah!

Which is a bit silly because the left doesn’t believe anymore in climate change than you and I do. But what they really believe in is taxing us into the poorhouse while erecting an authoritarian government over us. Don’t fall for this bullshit, either.

Extra Special Babylon  Bee section

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And, of course

Veteran’s Day

In 2012, as we gathered to salute our veterans, and the rest of the Anglosphere gathered to remember their war dead, there was no one to take our salute for the Great War. Florence Green, a member of the Women’s Royal Air Force, died on 4 February 2012 two weeks short of her 111th birthday, at King’s Lynne. She was the very last veteran of World War I. And so, while we remember them, never again will we see them on this side.

Maybe it’s just as well, they likely wouldn’t be impressed with the mess we have made on both sides of the Atlantic. But we have an advantage, we have their example for a guide. They were indeed our best, equal in every way to those who came a mere twenty years later, and even in the conflicts, hot and cold, that followed that war. Only a fool thinks there will ever be a war to end all wars.

But 101 years ago, at the eleventh hour, of the eleventh day, of the eleventh month, the war we still call the Great War came to end, first by an armistice and then by treaty. The things left undone in the negotiations would have much to do with the Second World War, but that is nothing to do with the warriors.

Interestingly, it is also Old Michaelmas Day, the day when St Michael the Archangel threw out Devil out of Heaven. St Michael the Archangel is, of course, the leader of the heavenly army that will defeat Satan at the end of days. He is also the Patron of Paratroopers, and some say the Infantry. So a very appropriate day, wonder if they thought of it in 1918.

The date of July 4, 1917 marks a watershed. It was the day that a battalion of the 11th US Infantry marched through Paris, proclaiming “Lafayette, we are here”. A recognition that we owed France much for their help in the Revolution.

It marked a watershed in the war, as the promise of new fresh troops, lifted the morale of the Allies, and hurt that of the Central Powers. But more than that, it was a watershed for America, too. For the first time, we put our soldiers in harm’s way to save other people. The world changed.

It took us till about 1942 before we realized that now we were the leaders of the free world, that the British and the Empire had impoverished themselves in the Great War, and could no longer control events. In 1945, we took that mantle, somewhat unwillingly, but decisively. And thus was born both the Pax Americana and “The American Century”.

And all through the century, our troops have been everything we could have wished, and the best ambassadors America could have wished for. A good many years ago now, Robert Leckie called them “Planetary Soldiers”. It was and is an apt description.

 

Admiral Nimitz rather summed up our armed forces when he said after Iwo Jima:

Uncommon Valor was a Common Virtue

Remembrance Sunday

Crossposted from  All along the Watchtower.

Poppy_wreath_stockwell

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place: and in the sky
The larks still bravely singing fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the dead: Short days ago,
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved: and now we lie
In Flanders fields!

Take up our quarrel with the foe
To you, from failing hands, we throw
The torch: be yours to hold it high
If ye break faith with us who die,
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields

 

A WOMAN’S TRIBUTE

The Message of the Double Line of Khaki; From the London Times, October 18, 1921

In Westminster Abbey, yesterday, General Pershing laid the American Medal of Honour upon the grave of the Unknown Soldier of Britain. The bright sunlight streamed through the high stained-glass windows in long shafts of light that fell warm upon the grey stone of the Gothic arches, upon the quiet people in the Nave, and around the flower-strewn tomb, and that lay in a cloth of scarlet on the flag above the body of the Unknown Dead.

A thousand years of great history stood silent within those old walls. Close by are the tombs of Norman, Plantagenet, Tudor, and Stuart Kings and Queens, of the priests, and soldiers and the sailors, of the poets and statesmen that have made England great.

As the organ filled the sunlit spaces of the ancient church with its deep volume of sound, there marched up the aisle, with bared heads, a detachment of British soldiers from the Guard’s regiments. As they formed a line facing the centre, an equal number of American soldiers, bare-headed, marched up the other side, and turning, stood facing the British soldiers across the narrow aisle.

Both lines of khaki, both lines of straight and young and clear-eyed boys, both lines of men of Anglo-Saxon blood, of the same standards and of the same ideals they stood there in the sunlight in that shrine of a thousand years of memory, looking straight into each other’s eyes.

Between them, up the aisle, marched the choir in their scarlet vestments with their bright cross on high, the generals, the admirals, and the Ministers of the Empire, and the Ambassador and the Commanding General of the Great Republic but in all that they represented, and in all that was said in the ceremonies that followed, there was no such potent symbol as those two lines of khaki- clad boys, with the sun shining on their bared heads, their brave young faces, and their strong young bodies, looking each other straight in the face.Between them lay, not the narrow aisle, but a thousand leagues of sea, the building of a new world, the birth of a new destiny for man. But as they stood there where they could have touched hands in the old Abbey which was a shrine for their common ancestors, they were so amazingly alike in bearing and appearance that they ceased to be a detachment of soldiers from two different countries, and they became a symbol of the illimitable potentiality of a common heritage that heritage of which the ancient Abbey was a shrine the heritage of the ideals of freedom, of order, of self-discipline, of self-respect.

If any words spoken in the Abbey could have conveyed a hundredth part of what that double line of clear- eyed boys said in utter silence the world would have been a happier place to-day. The old strength and the new force of a common heritage stood in khaki in the aisle of Westminster Abbey bare-headed, to honour the symbol of supreme sacrifice to those ideals in the Cross of Christ and in the body of an Unknown Soldier.

The service included this.

Kind of the cousins, who have always been so gracious. I wonder if they also sang this, which was new that year.

It has been a very long century since that last quiet August weekend of the Edwardian Age. It has been filled far too often with the roar of the guns, and the rattle of musketry followed by the sounding of the Last Post. But the mission has been maintained, it will never be won, although we can and should pray that it will be less horrific going forward. But all around the world, freedom-loving people have learned of the steadfast valor even unto death of English-speaking soldiers, sailors, marines, and airmen. We are proud of our part, yes. But we are equally proud to be your allies and friends.

Has it been worth it? The citizen of Ypres, Belgium seem to think so. Every night at 8:00pm since 2 July 1928, except during the German occupation in World War II, they have executed this ceremony, and when the Polish forces liberated them in 1944, they resumed, while heavy fighting was still going on in the city. While under occupation in World War II the ceremony took place at Brookwood Military Cemetery, in Surrey, England.

EVERY NIGHT

For The Fallen

With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.

Solemn the drums thrill; Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres,
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted;
They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years contemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England’s foam.

But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;

As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain;
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.

 

The Real Heroes Are Dead

One of the heroic men I often write about around 9/11 is Rick Rescorla. The man whose foresight saved all but thirteen Dean Whitter Morgan Stanley employees (he was lost that day, and his body was never found) on that dark day. So do others, Powerline, like here has a recurring post on him, and The Victory Girls often do, as well. But we all have something to add now. Colonel Rescorla, born in Cornwall, veteran of the British Paratroopers who served during the war in Cyprus and Rhodesia, and an American veteran of the 7th Cavalry in the First Battle of Ia Drang, in Vietnam. If you have seen the cover of We Were Soldiers Once, and Young, that man is Rick Rescorla. He was awarded the Presidential Citizens Medal posthumously this week. Watch.

 

I really like the write up that Nina Bookout gave him at The Victory Girls.

There is so much more to Rick’s story. He was a British paratrooper who served with the British Army on Cyprus and then in Rhodesia. Not long after that he emigrated to the United States and joined the Army. This man, who had already been in battle, joined up in time to go to battle again. This time at the Battle of la Drang. The loss of the men he served with never left him.  It is his photo that is the cover of “We Were Soldiers Once…And Young.” 

“In 1965 Rescorla knew war. His men did not, yet. To steady them, to break their concentration away from the fear that may grip a man when he realizes there are hundreds of men very close by who want to kill him, Rescorla sang. Mostly he sang dirty songs that would make a sailor blush. Interspersed with the lyrics was the voice of command: ‘Fix bayonets…on liiiiine…reaaaa-dy…forward.’ It was a voice straight from Waterloo, from the Somme, implacable, impeccable, impossible to disobey. His men forgot their fear, concentrated on his orders and marched forward as he led them straight into the pages of history: 1st Platoon, Bravo Company, 2nd Battalion, 7th Cavalry…’Hard Corps.’”

Years later, as head of security for Morgan Stanley, Rick found himself in another fight. One against terrorism. After the first attack on the Twin Towers, Rick instituted mandatory evacuation drills. He KNEW that another attack would happen. He wanted every person who worked in those offices to be prepared. He wanted every person in those offices to be able to react immediately.

On that day, that fateful day when terrorists tried to bring us to our knees, Rick Rescorla’s planning and training saved lives. 2,700 lives in fact. While building personnel were ordering people to stay at their desks, Rick bullied Morgan Stanley employees into moving out to safety.

THEN…he went back UP the stairs!

“”Everybody said, ‘Rick your folks are out. You’ve done what you need to do,’ but he pointed up the stairwell and said, ‘You hear those screams? There’s more people up there. I have to help get them out,’” Lt. Col. Andrew Watson said at the conference room dedication, as reported by Military.com. He said he would run to safety only once he had gotten everyone in the building out.”

Probably the best write up from the time is by James B. Stewart in The New Yorker.

The title as you’ll find in the New Yorker article is a quote from Rick Rescorla.

“”Men of Cornwall stop your dreaming
Can’t you see their spear points gleaming?
See their warriors’ pennants streaming
To this battlefield.
Men of Cornwall stand ye steady
It cannot be ever said ye
for the battle were not ready.
STAND AND NEVER YIELD!
– “Men of Harlech”
Sung by Rick Rescorla in the Ia Drang Valley 1965 and in the stairway of WTC Tower 2 on September 11, 2001″”

 

1066/1776 and all that

1776

Another one of Jessica’s from that 2013 series today. It’s hard to believe how clearly she saw what was coming in the next decade, back in 2013. Neo

It is hard to pin down what you mean by culture, but despite the efforts of the MSM to pretend that our culture comes from all sorts of wonderful and weird places such as Kenya, the values on which this country was formed were those of a Christian heritage. It was a particular type of heritage. The early pilgrims were of British descent and of Protestant inclination. They were men and women who saw themselves as like the Israelites of old – in the wilderness, building a new Jerusalem – a shining city on a hill. But they also brought with them something from their British heritage – a love of law and freedom. Unlike some countries where the law was seen as the enemy of freedom, in England, from Magna Carta onward, it was seen as the protection of the liberties of the people.

But those Barons of Norman descent at Runnymede did not invent that idea; they inherited it.  The Normans were, as befitted the descendants of Scandinavian pirates, a tough lot; they could not have taken so much land if they had not been. But in England they found the descendants of other men from the North, the Saxons, and those Saxons had developed their own way of doing things.

For all that modern historians doubt the idea that the Saxons developed a form of consultative government via the Witan, that was not what those who settled America believed. They came with the idea that democracy had begun in the Saxon forests, and they applied it in the wilderness they settled. These were tough men and women too, but they valued freedom above all things. For that the crossed the Atlantic in small ships; for that they endured the hardships of building a new Jerusalem. Sustained by their Christian faith, and strong in their love of freedom, these people forged a nation and a culture. It was the threat to that from the German tyrant George which drove them to rebellion. Kipling expressed it best here:

1776

after
The  snow lies thick on Valley Forge,
The ice on the Delaware,
But the poor dead soldiers of King George
They neither know nor care.

Not though the earliest primrose break
On the sunny side of the lane,
And scuffling rookeries awake
Their England’ s spring again.

They will not stir when the drifts are gone,
Or the ice melts out of the bay:
And the men that served with Washington
Lie all as still as they.

They will  not  stir  though  the mayflower blows
In the moist dark woods of pine,
And every rock-strewn pasture shows
Mullein and columbine.

Each for his land, in a fair fight,
Encountered strove, and died,
And the kindly earth that knows no spite
Covers them side by side.

She is too busy to think of war;
She has all the world to make gay;
And,  behold, the yearly flowers are
Where they were in our fathers’ day!

Golden-rod by the pasture-wall
When the columbine is dead,
And sumach leaves that turn, in fall,
Bright as the blood they shed.

It was a brothers’ war, and when it was over they bore no real ill-will and became friends and allies.

They could do that because of a shared love of freedom and the same concept of justice. There was no need to ask what culture was, and those uncounted millions who found in the New World a haven, embraced those values – so much so that people took them for granted – they were surely universal. Rule for the people and by the people did not fade from that land, and even after a second and bloodier war of brothers, the nation united around those shared values. To become an American was a great a noble ambition for every immigrant. It never meant junking your ancestor’s past, but it did mean embracing a better life – and recognising the values of your new country which made that possible.

Somewhere, and we can speculate where and how, that simple truth got mislaid by our rulers. The next few posts explore some of this – and invite you all to think about it with us.

It was, in fact, the Second English Civil War, for all that we call it The American Revolution, and like almost all revolutions in the Anglophone world, it was brought on by a longing for the ‘good, old law’. And that is what we accomplished here. Burke commented in 1775 that our forebearers left England when freedom was at its height and that is true. England has often backslid and never again attained that height. We have for various reasons done better (until now) at maintaining it here. But in the last century, we too have slipped, and now we stare in the face of the fourth of the cousin’s wars, like the first involving us on both sides of the Atlantic. Between yesterday’s post and today’s Jessica posted a warning. This is it. Neo

Mad as Hell in the UK

Mad as hellJessica wrote this for us on May 4, 2013, just after UKIP scared the Conservative party by winning lots of council seats (sort of analogous to state offices here). In it, she tells us of the temper of the British electorate. This was the election that scared Cameron enough to bring the Referendum on Brexit to the people. 

Sadly the so-called elites didn’t read their Kipling and they still have no idea how infuriated the electorate is with them. They gave the Tories the chance to make Brexit work, and they intentionally screwed it up.

It’s not very different here, except for the fact that this President reflects the people, not the elites. My comment at the time makes a reasonable introduction, and the original is here. It has some other good comments.

Yep, that’s what I read, from your election as well. You’re in the same spot we are, your government no longer reflects the electorate, and in fact has got itself crossways with us/ you.

Martin does sound fine-just as we have holdouts from Potomac fever, not enough but some, and I think their number will increase, in both countries, if our people have enough sense to say things directly, without worry of stepping on toes.

Time will tell, of course, but I am quite encouraged by your election, as I have been for the most part by the direction Canada has been taking the last few years, now, if we can get on the ball as well, what could we accomplish. Neo

UK Local Election: Triumph of Real Conservatism and Sea Change in British Politics.

If this were the USA it would be called an insurgency. The United Kingdom Independence Party has had a good set of local election results, winning many local council seats.  The media in the UK is seeing this as a protest vote, although I am not sure that the established political parties really understand what is being protested.

There is a controversial historian called David Starkey who, speaking on the BBC the other night, nailed it for me and for many.  Appearing on a discussion programme, he pointed out that most of his fellow panelists, including the deputy leader of the Labour Party and the Liberal Democrat politician, and even including the chairman of the programme, were all there because of hereditary factors; their parents had struggled to make money and made enough of it so that their children had advantages in life; now those same children, taking their position for granted, were trying, in the name of a spurious equality, to deny the same opportunity to others. Only two panelists  himself and the Conservative Minister, had to make their own way in life.  The broadcaster clearly objected, but had no answer because what Starkey had said was true. He had said that which should not be said – that the country is ruled by a self-perpetuating elite who all went to the same type of public school, the same universities and who have never had a job in the real world.

I suppose I should ‘fess up. I went to a Public (that is private) School myself, and whilst not going to Oxford or Cambridge, I did go to one of our older universities. But like many such, I went out into the real world (or the nearest equivalent) in order to earn a living, and I don’t obsess about politics, and I earn my own living.

What UKIP is tapping into is the feeling of many of that our Government and the established political parties are much of a muchness; all the same.  From issues such as gay marriage across to control over immigration and who stays in this country and who doesn’t, we feel no one is listening. I don’t smoke, but I don’t see why you can’t smoke in a public house, and whilst I like going to Europe, I don’t want to be ruled from Brussels by a bunch of people I didn’t elect and can’t get rid of.  As it happens, where I live we had no UKIP candidate, and the Conservative is an old friend of my co-author’s who farms locally and owns a chain of butcher’s shops which provides a lot of work locally; anyone less out of touch than Martin would be hard to find; so I voted for him with enthusiasm.

But Martin is not typical of our elected politicians, and there is here a sense that we are ‘mad as hell’ and won’t take it any more.

In the end in a democracy we are ruled by our consent. When an hereditary political class starts behaving as though we need its consent, then democracy itself is in danger.  Yes, tell us, MSM, that our views are not ‘acceptable’ and that there is only a narrowish set of things we are allowed to think and say, and then run with that, but all you do is make many of us angry. We no longer have to accept the MSM, there’s a lot of better places to get your news. Nor do we have to accept the arrogance of a political elite which mistakes itself for having a divine right to rule over us.  That is what this local election is telling the main parties – and I cannot think they even know how to listen. But if they don’t, then they will continue to take a pasting from us until they do – or are replaced.

And now after a further six years, British conservative sound as enraged as we are, maybe even more so.  This started a series of posts between us, and I think a few more of them may show up. They are still quite apt. Neo

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