Check this out, 3.5 readers. I called it way back on March 31, 2016:
The Russians.
Oh sure, they say they want to be our friends but then as soon as we aren’t looking they kick the Ukraine in the balls and give East Europe a wedgie.
See that? Ahh, if only the head muckety mucks over at NATO HQ had bothered to read my fine blog, we could have avoided Putin’s invasion of the Ukraine and be putting our focus where it needs to be, namely, why the hell does the Academy keep nominating movies we have never seen for the Oscars?
I try to avoid getting political on this fine blog, largely because the Internet/social media has ushered in a whole new era where people debate, not by the Marquess of Queensberry rules of old, but rather like the pro-wrestlers of today.
In other words, in the past, two parties would show up, debate, stay relatively cordial, and then agree to disagree.
Today, it’s pretty much you’ll inevitably say something that offends someone and rather than explain their side, they’ll just conk you on the head with a folding chair, Hollywood Hulk Hogan style. OK, they won’t use a chair, but they’ll use fighting words. They’ll get personal and at some point, it will be implied that your mother wears combat boots (less of an insult today than it was 30 years ago, but anyway.)
I digress.
Our political system sucks and politicians aren’t motivated to do the right thing. TV and social media means the politicians react to the headlines of today, while they are happening right now, and in life, whether it is a disaster or a suspicious lump on your nether regions, what you did in the past to prepare for these sorts of things is more important than what you do once disaster strikes.
Think about your own budget. Do you spend recklessly? Maybe you do. We’ve all been there from time to time. But still, you have a general awareness that you need to save. You need to pay bills on time. You need to keep some money on hand for a rainy day. Sure, you’ll see nice things and want them, but hopefully, some voice in your head reminds you that it might be easy to charge it on the credit card today, as if that credit is free money, but the bill will come back to haunt you.
Our politicians have zero motivation to NOT spend foolishly. They have no motivation to prepare for a rainy day. They have no motivation to keep borrowing low and they definitely have no motivation to keep some money on hand for a rainy day.
Think about the coronavirus. I hate to break it to you, but we aren’t in a situation where everything is going to open up in May or whenever and we no longer have to worry about catching a dreaded disease. This shutdown was never about that. It was a fear that our hospitals weren’t up to snuff, that they didn’t have enough medical equipment, beds, and space to take care of a large influx of sick people. Thus, if too many sick people flood the system, the medical staff can’t respond to patients fast enough. This leads to more people getting sick and not being cured and before you know it, wammo. It’s the Walking Dead world, and we are all Rick Grimes. Actually, I’m awesome, so I’ll be Rick Grimes. You nerds will be Shane at best.
Why didn’t the politicians prepare? Swine flu happened in 2009. That wasn’t as deadly as corona, but it was still bad. It was bad enough that it scared Hollywood into making a movie called Contagion where Gwyneth Paltrow’s virus fighting doctor character (SPOILER ALERT) dies and gets his face cut off so her body can be studied for science.
But the politicians weren’t that motivated. Politicians don’t get applause for making sure hospitals have enough beds. They don’t get praise for making sure hospitals have enough ventilators. They don’t get likes for making sure hospitals have enough masks and gloves or space.
Politicians get applause for dissing their opponents. They get applause for dishing out free money and why not? If you’re dumb enough to give me your credit card and tell me its ok to spend whatever I want, then I’ll gladly buy a round of drinks for every schmuck at the bar, take the applause, then stick you with the bill. Am I going to buy equipment to make sure people can be helped in the event of a crisis? Pfft. No. Where’s the applause in that?
Think about how you run your own household. You probably have some kind of a budget, even if its in your head. You keep track of bills and expenses. Maybe not on a nice flowchart but you have a general idea. You have an idea of what in your house is broken and falling apart. You have an idea of how much longer you can use this not so good appliance before you have to cave in and buy a new one. You want to buy that fancy watch, sweet leather jacket or go on that awesome vacation, but you balance those wants with the needs of maybe some day you’ll need a new dishwasher, or your fear that a pipe will burst and you’ll need to hire a contractor to fix it and you wont be able to if youve spent all your money on comic books and bubblegum.
Unfortunately, politicians look at tax revenue as free money. Free money to use to reward allies and punish opponents. Free money to waste and why not because more free money will always come along. And I hate to break it to you, but the money you give them today was already spent a long time ago. The nation is being run on loans, or if you think about it, on a massive credit card.
When you see the US helping everyone around the world, that’s nice, until you realize we ran up the credit card to do it. If you use your credit card to buy your neighbor’s kid an XBox, people will think you’re a nice person…for about five minutes, until everyone realizes your own kid doesn’t have shoes and your credit card bill is so high and your free cash is so low that your own kid will have to run around barefoot.
Overall, I wish there was a better system where politicians of both parties were inspired to keep costs and debts low, and to save, save, save for a rainy day. To spend money on necessities rather than wants, to prepare for disasters ahead of time.
Long story short, 3.5 readers, unless you poop a crazy amount, you probably were always keeping a few spare rolls in your closet, so when the corona shit hit the fan, you didn’t have to run to the store and do a battle royale with all the people who didn’t keep enough rolls of butt wipe handy. You did it because you knew you had to take care of yourself. No one else will.
Politicians don’t think like that. Spend, spend, spend. Ignore potential looming disasters. Someday, some other schmuck will be stuck with the bill and the blame while they’re chilling out on a beach somewhere…with all our toilet paper.
End of BQB rant. Thank you.
PS – Imagine you are a parent. You send your kid off to college. You give them a prepaid debit card and tell them this is for important things only. Your kid comes home and tells you they spent all their money on booze, parties, and they bought gifts for their dumb friends. But then they tell you that they don’t have any money for text books, clothes or basic necessities.
Next time a politician gets on TV and tells you they spent your money helping out some OTHER country, maybe remind them that they were supposed to make sure the kids in America had shoes and textbooks and food first.
As you are aware, I have long been a steadfast supporter of improving rights of the physically ugly.
I mean, I’m not leading any marches or sit ins or anything, but I’m happy to write about it on my blog that is only read by 3.5 readers.
Do you have any ideas on how to improve rights for the ugly? It’s one thing to brainstorm big ideas but another to focus on actual initiatives.
For example, I’d like to propose a Constitutional amendment that would prevent the government from forcing ugly people to wear paper bags on their heads. Sure, you say well that isn’t happening now but you never know if the winds will change and maybe in 50 years an anti-ugly regime will take over. Ergo, it would be great to get freedom from mandatory head bags into the Constitution.
Thoughts? Would any of you endorse this initiative?
Has there ever been a more stunning fall from grace than the one happening to VA Gov. Ralph Northam right now?
When you’re confirmed to have appeared in a yearbook photo and you might have either been a klansman or a guy in blackface, your career should be toast. I fear the media will have his back though and nothing will be done.
By the way, I was just a kid in the 1980s. There were definitely some things in the pop culture that would make us cringe today. However, that time period wasn’t exactly the Jim Crow South either. I don’t recall a lot of fully grown adults walking around in blackface or klan robes, either in earnest or as a tasteless gag. Frankly, I’m surprised the school allowed that photo to appear in the yearbook. Mind you, this wasn’t a college or high school yearbook (though you should know better at those ages so it wouldn’t be excused) but this was a year book for fully grown adult professionals graduating from a medical doctor program.
Up front, I want to say I’m not making fun or light of or disparaging the 27 year old missionary who died recently on Sentinel Island. What happened to him is terrible and I can’t say that enough.
I am, however, going to use this as a springboard to bitch about millennials, one of my favorite pastimes on this blog.
I’ve noticed that millennials tend to put life experiences over material possessions. Ergo, they (and not all but a good amount) prefer to spend money on vacations to exotic lands instead of say, putting a down payment on a house.
Not going to lie. There are times when I think about spending my meager savings on a trek around the world but alas, the thought of having to eventually come back and live with my pain in the ass family when I go broke makes me want to gorge myself to death on avocado toast.
But perhaps there are millennials with fams that are more tolerable than mine. At any rate, fun is for the young and I can’t blame a youngster for wanting to see the world. Hell, if you’re older and in relatively good shape, you should see the world too if you can.
I think social media has something to do with this. When I was young, the most you could do was try to impress a date with your story of a far flung expedition. Now you can take photos of yourself in an exotic locale and post them and make your friends hella green with envy. Not saying that’s why millennials do this but I mean, come on, surely a few do.
Unfortunately, sometimes the millennials go a little too far. Otto Warmbier, for example. Now, I’m not saying in any way that North Korea is excused for what they did but whenever I hear about an American who was caught and imprisoned and tortured in a hellhole that is constantly on the news and known well to be a hellhole my first reaction is, “Damn it. Did these people not see that Carnival Cruise commercial? Did Kathie Lee Gifford sing her heart out for nothing?”
Look, my vacation time and funds are limited. If I get to go away, it is going to be to a tropical paradise and my preferred form of torture will be to ogle hot babes in skimpy outfits that I will never be able to obtain (unless 1 million of you buy my book tomorrow).
Where was I? So this young missionary went to India. Off the Indian coast, there’s a series of islands. One of them is Sentinel Island (I could have my facts wrong so see the news for better info) and there is a long isolated tribe. This tribe knows nothing of modern ways. They live off the land. There are documented cases where they open fire with bow and arrow attacks on all trespassers.
At any rate, this guy hired some fishermen to take him to the island even though doing so is against Indian law and though he hoped to preach the gospel, it sounds like he was arrow attacked and killed pretty much instantly.
Part of me says the tribe were dicks for doing this. Part of me thinks this is like putting your hand in the tiger cage at the zoo and then thinking the tiger is a dick when it rips your arm off.
I don’t want to make fun of this kid. His death is tragic. I don’t blame him for wanting to experience great things while he was young. Personally, I look back on my youth, wishing I had great stories to remember and am saddened that it is largely a cloud of me on the couch playing video games and eating doritos, so I hand it to this kid that he did more with his life than I did but still…I just hope millennials will chill out a bit.
Go on fun exotic vacations? Yes. Go to places where you are most likely going to be killed, tortured or imprisoned? No. Please don’t.
Sears got its milkshake drank. Will yours be next?
Ahh, Sears. Back in the day, no trip to the mall was complete without a trip to this anchor store and let me tell you, my Aunt Gertie used to get Sears catalogs in the mail all the time.
They were big ass tomes the size of 10 bibles that weighed at least 10 pounds and oh, as a kid I’d turn through the pages and dream. I want that toy, I want that toy, and oh my, why do these bra models give me a tingly feeling?
Jeez. I think I might have a few of those catalogs lying around. I wonder if they’re worth anything. I’d go fap to the bra models but I won’t out of respect, given that all those models are probably either dead or super old and in nursing homes now. Sigh. Oh time, you cruel bitch, you.
For the uninitiated, Mr. Sears, way back in the 1800s was the first businessman to realize that since there were parts of America that didn’t have any stores, he could make bank by sending out catalogs and taking orders for goods by mail. As the years went on, Sears stores became the pinnacle of every mall and as credit cards came into style, they dominated the catalog sales market. Shit, Aunt Gertie ordered all my clothes as a kid from Sears. You think that was why I was so unpopular? Oh well. Water under the bridge.
So, I guess I don’t get it. The Internet came into great popularity in the 1990s and Jeff Bezos, blessed be his most revered name (and I’m not just saying that because he has the power to snuff out my self-publishing dreams) saw the potential of the Internet to sell stuff.
Wal-Mart saw the potential too and though I don’t believe it has reached Amazon lengths, it does a brisk online sales business.
JC Penney, Sears’ longtime rival in the box store/catalog game has kept afloat by doing online sales as well.
So, to repeat, I don’t get it. Sears basically invented the whole concept of taking pictures of products, organizing them into catalogs and giving them descriptions, product numbers, listing the prices, making it easy for people to call on the phone, read off the products they wanted to an operator who took their order, credit card number and address and they even mastered how to complete orders through the mail.
Why didn’t anyone at Sears have the vision, the foresight to say, “Hey, I think this Internet thing is here to stay and we should take our catalog…and hold on…think about it here…put it online!”
Now, I don’t know. I believe they did. To what extent I couldn’t tell you. Perhaps it wasn’t so much the lack of putting it online so much as getting you anything you want the way Amazon can. I mean, there are so many times when I think something like, “I would like a can of farts excreted by an East Peruvian Water Buffalo in July” and then go to Amazon and do a search and get, “Here are twenty choices for farts excreted by East Peruvian Water Buffalos in July.”
I don’t know. I’m not sure what Sears’ downfall was. Either they didn’t get into online sales early enough, or maybe they didn’t make online shopping as cool as Amazon did. Maybe they didn’t think of nifty little ways to grab your cash the way Amazon does. Shit, Amazon thinks of new ways to get your money all the time. You can get a little button to stick in your kitchen and push it when you’re out of toilet paper, chips, insert household staple here and they will put it on your tab and send it to you. You can get Alexa and say, “Hey Alexa order me a can of East Peruvian Water Buffalo Farts” and she’ll order it for you. Maybe it was that. Maybe Sears just didn’t think of enough ways to be cool.
I know Blockbuster could have gotten into the streaming game earlier and could still be around in an online form today. Borders could have embraced e-books earlier and still be in the fight today.
So, let’s apply this to you (because I never apply good lessons to me, I just continue to do the same dumb things and let them blow up in my face over and over again and never learn anything like Wile E. Coyote.)
What is something that you could begin doing today that will be hard, will require hard work and sacrifice, will unlikely yield results in the short term, but in 5 years, you’ll be glad you did it?
I bet the people in charge of Sears wish that 5 years ago, they might have made their website cooler. Maybe they might have gotten more exclusive product deals available only on their site. Maybe they could have come up with a little robot that sits on your desk and speaks in a British accent, like your robot butler who says, “Pip, pip, cheerio, you want me to order you some more raisin bran, fuck face?” I don’t know. All I know is they didn’t do it, and now much like in that film, There Will Be Blood, Bezos is drinking Sears’ milkshake. “I drink your milkshake! I drink it up!!”
Back to the point. Maybe you’re a fat fuck. Maybe in five years you’d like to be a skinny fuck so you can run, jump, hop, skip, do fun activities and if you’re looking good you might just score yourself some bomb ass pussy (or ladies, you might acquire some bomb ass peen.)
Maybe you’re having financial woes. Maybe if you start a plan of cutting spending and perhaps get a little side gig or a part time job, you’ll get those debts tackled in five years.
Shit. Take some piano lessons today and maybe you’ll be tickling the ivories in a concert hall in five years.
Hell, I spent the last two years writing a book about an alligator that eats people on the toilet. I hope to have it self-published next year. When I’m swimming in mad cash and bomb ass pussy thanks to all the fame and fortune I get when this book about a toilet gator goes gangbusters, I’ll be glad I put the time in on this fine book. I’ll be laughing at the other me in the alternate time line who will be a fucking loser because instead of writing a book about a toilet gator he did some weak ass shit like working extra hard on his cardio or volunteering to read to impoverished blind children or building hospitals in Ecuador or some shit.
Anyway, 3.5 readers. The takeaway? Right now, I know there is something you have wanted to happen for a long time. You never did it, but you know in your heart if you put the work in, you’ll have it in five years. Do you want to be like Sears? Do you want to be the hollow shell, the desolate remains of a once thriving business that was the brain child of a wise 1800’s business tycoon? Or, do you want to be like Supreme Overlord Bezos, violating the spent carcass of yet another fallen, wasted competitor over and over again?
If you don’t identify what you want and start acting on it today, then I guarantee you in five years, someone else will be getting it. You’ll still be fat and some other skinny person will be partying with the bomb ass pussy or peen, whatever your preference. Someone else will be playing the piano you were going to play. Someone else will be enjoying a debt free life while you’ll be giving handjobs in bus station bathrooms just to pay off the minimum payment on your credit cards. (You’ll be giving handjobs forever at that rate!)
The next five years will go by fast…in the blink of an eye. You can drink some other schmuck’s milkshake, or you can get yours drunk up. What’s it going to be?
(Note. Let’s all return to this post in five years and trade notes on how this all worked out.)
ADDITIONAL NOTE: It dawns on me that not all 3.5 of you have seen There Will Be Blood and I don’t advise it, because once you see a man get beaten to death with a bowling pin by a man enjoying a brownie, you can’t unsee that shit. Long story short, “I drink your milkshake!” comes from this scene where Daniel Day Lewis plays an oil baron who is bragging to a preacher about how he screwed him over in an oil deal.
So, to really motivate yourself, you need to a) picture what you want and then b) work on getting it for fear that in five years, if you don’t get what you want, Daniel Day Lewis will get what you wanted because he worked for it harder and he will ridicule you by laughing at you, telling you he got what you wanted because you’re a weak, pathetic loser and he was really strong and cunning and then he will beat the shit out of you with a bowling pin and eat a brownie.
If that doesn’t make you work hard on your goals then I don’t know what will.
EDITORIAL NOTE: I’ll just leave this here, for no particular reason.
And so, gentlemanly country lawyer Atticus Finch did call his client, Tom Robinson, into his law office. Tom Robinson, a black man, had been falsely accused of rape and since it was the Jim Crow south, no lawyer other than Atticus was willing to help the poor man.
“I swear I didn’t rape that woman, Atticus,” Tom said. “I swear, I didn’t. Do you think you’ll be able to save me at trial?”
“Well,” Atticus said as he sipped a mint julep. “I’m just a simple country lawyer who likes to sit on his rocking chair and enjoy a nice cool breeze on a summer’s evening, but I say, I do declare that whether we should save you is not the proper consideration but rather, the appropriate issue is should we save you?”
“Should we save me?” Tom asked. “But sir, I have been falsely accused!”
“Sir!” Atticus said. “Lower your voice! I shall not have such triggering hate speech in my office.”
“What?” Tom asked.
“You see, Tom,” Atticus said. “It doesn’t matter if you were falsely accused or not because all accusers have the right to be instantly and automatically believed. Why, if you don’t believe an accusation without further question or inquiry, then you are not just insulting the individual accuser in this case but anyone and everyone who has ever dared to stand up and accuse someone of anything.
“But Mr. Finch,” Tom said. “I’m not trying to tarnish the reputation of anyone who has ever made an accusation. I realize that for the world to keep turning that people need to be able to stand up and say when something bad happened. I’m just saying that in this case, when my accuser makes a false accusation, I need you to present my case and prove the truth. I didn’t do it, sir. I’m innocent and that fact must be presented to the jury.”
Atticus brushed a piece of lint off his clean, white suit. “Sir, I say, I do declare I’m sorry but I just can’t go on with this hateful discussion. All accusers are to be believed, sir and frankly, whether or not you are guilty or innocent is immaterial. If you do not skip this trial and skip straight to hanging yourself then your accuser’s feelings, as well as the feelings as anyone who has ever made an accusation against anyone since the beginning of all time will be hurt and we can’t have that, so please, go hang yourself now.”
Tom stood up. “Sir, if I may be so bold, if you’re not going to defend me against an accusation then why are you here?”
“Why, I do declare I’m just here to sip mint juleps and look good in this white suit,” Atticus said. “Good day, sir. Please go see the proprietor of our local mercantile and acquire a length of rope. I’ll see to it that your estate will handle the bill just as soon as you hang yourself promptly.”
Tom shook Atticus’ hand. “Very well, sir. You make a fine point. I don’t want accusers to feel bad and even if the accusation against me is false, my life must be over now because if it isn’t then people with true accusations will feel bad and true accusers just won’t be intelligent enough to be able to figure out that in this particular case, the accusation was false. I will go hang myself posthaste.”
“Glad to hear it,” Atticus said. “Enjoy your hanging, Tom.”
Tom left the room. Atticus’ young daughter, Scout, had been playing with a doll in a corner of the room the entire time.
“Daddy?” Scout said.
“Yes, dear?” Atticus replied.
“The world sure has gotten fucked up, ain’t it, Daddy?” Scout asked.
BQB: Hello, welcome to the BQB Network’s hurricane news coverage. First, because everyone at home is too dumb to imagine what heavy winds and rain look like, here’s some asshole reporter we lashed to a post in the middle of the storm. Asshole reporter, are you there?
ASSHOLE REPORTER LASHED TO A POST: I’m here, BQB! Boy, this hurricane sure does suck big hairy donkey balls! As you can see, the water is rising, rising, rising but I’m at the top of this post so I should be fine for awhile and…aw shit, the water’s at my waist, isn’t it?
BQB: You’ll be fine, Asshole Reporter. Moving on, here’s an interview with Some Dipshit Who Didn’t Listen to the Evacuation Order.
SOME DIPSHIT WHO DIDN’T LISTEN TO THE EVACUATION ORDER: Boy howdy, them government boys told me I got to leave but I said, no sirree, bob. I am staying put in this house because my great-grandpappy built this house with his bare hands and also I will be damned if I will allow looters to abscond with my precious collection of potato chips that bear a striking resemblance to Harry S. Truman. But I do thank the 50 emergency rescue team members who risked their lives to save me once the water got so high that I had to tap dance on top of my roof with my dog under my arm.
BQB: And here’s some Bubba who, well, we’re not making fun of him. I mean, it sounds like we are but he’s cool so we won’t.
BUBBA: My name is Bubba Bosephus Jones and I am from Kentucky and I done come here on my own accord so I could assist authorities in saving folks with my own rowboat and I done already saved 78 old ladies, 4 cats, 3 dogs and 1 hamster.
BQB: It’s like, I want to make fun of you, because the idea of volunteering to go to help people in a disaster is silly to me, but then when I say it out loud, I realize that you’re the good person and I’m the asshole. Anyway, let’s talk a Democrat to see the political fall out of the storm.
DEMOCRAT: Trump is a demon warlock who causes hurricanes!
BQB: And the president had this to say.
TRUMP: I will knock out the hurricane with my own penis. That’s right, people. My dong is so huge that it can knock out bad weather, believe me. The fake news media will tell you that it can’t but it totally can, believe me.
I reviewed it last year, but Darkest Hour has been on HBO, so I’ve been watching it constantly, leaving it on in the background whenever it is on while I do other stuff.
I don’t think people really understand the bind England was in at the height of World War II.
First, and I don’t mean to dump on the French, but France screwed the pooch. Part of me doesn’t blame them. It’s easy for backseat drivers almost eighty years later to say, “I would have fought those Nazis!” but for the people who actually had the Nazis coming for them, I get why they surrendered.
The problem is the Brits had sent their army to France on the idea that it would be better to back the French up and stop the Nazis in France before they reached the French coast, thus gaining access to the English Channel.
So…with 300,000 British troops in Dunkirk, on the coast of France, the Brits had to make a decision. Negotiate a surrender or lose the Dunkirk troops and lose the United Kingdom.
Amidst this backdrop, Sir Winston Churchill has been recently named Prime Minister. Churchill is wise and experienced, having served in war himself, but also intelligent, having written a number of books.
Unfortunately, personality wise, he’s boorish and considered a buffoon. He drinks non-stop, he’s chubby, overeats, smokes too much, and doesn’t have much of a filter to hold back from offending people.
Here’s why people need to watch it. It really illustrates why politics suck. They really do. Essentially, it’s all just a big game played by scheming scoundrels, all trying to get something done, everyone prepared to take the credit for a job well done but also trying like hell to avoid any blame.
The problem is that anything worth doing comes with good and bad consequences. No matter what you do, there’s always room for celebration and blame. You’ll never avoid a bad consequence unless you hide in a closet for the rest of your life.
Churchill understands this. As a former military man, he understands war is hell and victory can’t be wrapped up in a nice little package. He has been haunted by the failure of Gallipoli, where under his command, Brits died in World War I. Throughout his life, his political rivals hold it over his head.
At any rate, while Churchill maintains that surrender to the Nazis is not an option, he is henpecked by politics all the way. Parliamentarians Neville Chamberlain (the previous prime minister) and Viscount Halifax, constantly try to browbeat Churchill into negotiating “peace” with Hitler, though Churchill knows “peace” is code for surrender and a UK under Nazi rule is an unbearable idea.
Sorry to be longwinded. Halifax and Churchill want to surrender. They have a point. Why risk so many British lives? Defeat looks inevitable. To save 300,000 army men in Dunkirk, Churchill must sacrifice 3,000 to draw the Nazis attention and buy some time for civilian ships to reach Dunkirk and pick the Army up. Halifax argues why sacrifice 3,000 when defeat is inevitable?
So, here’s the thing. At any time, parliament had the ability to boot Churchill and name a new prime minister. Halifax and Chamberlain know this. Churchill knows this. Not in so many words, but he basically tells his detractors, “Come at me, bro.”
If Halifax and Chamberlain want to surrender to the Nazis, they can make it happen. They can go to parliament and make the case. Tell them that Churchill is a dick who is going to get us all killed and it would be better to be a Nazi subject than to be dead. Halifax and Chamberlain can say they’d be willing to become the prime minister and do the surrendering.
By that they don’t want to do it. They believe strongly in surrender but they do not want the blame for it. They feel Churchill is a dummy that they can push and bully into surrendering, make him be the fall guy, harass him into giving in and then when all the Brits are in leiderhosen, staring at a swastika flag flying over Buckingham palace, then Halifax and Chambelian can stand around and be like, “Well, Churchill’s the one who surrendered!”
Churchill suffers a great deal of internal anguish until….SPOILER ALERT…he gets out of the office and gets around London, talking to common folk. Do they want surrender? No. Would they rather die in an invasion than let Hitler win? Yes.
LESSONS:
If you’re a politician and you think you are right, you MUST be willing to stand up and push your idea yourself. It’s understandable that Halifax and Chamberlain fear Britain will lose, but if they felt that way, they should have stood up and been willing to wear the, proverbial “I support surrender” badge.
If you’re a politician under pressure to do what you think is wrong, you must seek out what the people think and hopefully, they’ll support you even if what is right might lead to a bad result.
The people have to be willing to support leaders in doing the right thing even if it results in a bad end.
BOTTOMLINE: Politics is the game of how decisions are made and unfortunately, making a decision is like a hot potato. A decision, and the ensuing responsibility, is passed around and around. No one wants the potato when it’s burning hot. They only want it when it is warm and smothered in sour cream and bacon bits.
Politicians push each other to decide how they want, but they won’t make the decisions themselves for fear of backlash if the decision goes wrong. If it goes right, they can say they supported it. If it goes bad, they can say they avoided it. Meanwhile, the people are schizophrenic. They’ll shout to do this or that and if it works out, great and if not they complain.
Churchill made a decision. He said we’re going to fight the Nazis. He knew it could lead to certain doom. He decided it would be better to risk seeing the UK bombed into the ground and conquered, its citizens dead, if there was a chance the island could be saved and Hitler beaten back.
In a stirring scene, he shouts, “I will take full responsibility!” No one else around him was willing to. That’s what politicians need to do.
Deciding to fight the Nazis could have easily lead to the total destruction of Great Britain, just as deciding to not fight them could have lead to thousands of years of subjugation to Nazi rule.
All decisions have consequences. I can tell you in my personal life, my biggest failing has been putting off decisions, avoiding that role of the dice and letting life pass me by rather than to just get in the fight and find out what happens at the end.
Bottomline is Halifax and Chamberlain weren’t willing to accept the consequences of the decision they wanted to be made. They wanted a surrender, but they didn’t want to go down as the dorks who surrendered. Meanwhile, Churchill wanted victory, but had that led to ruin, he most likely would have stood up and said, “Well, hey I tried. Sorry fighting the Nazis didn’t work out.”
OK I’ll stop ranting. I just see this a lot even today. Politicians fight and demonize each other but when it comes to, you know, actually writing and passing a law that backs up their vitriol, they rarely do it. “You should do what I want!” but few, if any, are actually just willing to step up and make it happen, put their name on a decision and accept the credit if it goes well and the blame if it goes bad.
It seems every generation, a kid gets stuck in a hole and the media swarms on the rescue effort. When I was a kid, the news was all over Baby Jessica, who fell down a hole in her backyard and everyday there was an update on the efforts to get this baby out of the hole.
Now it’s the Thai soccer boys. You know, a little sidenote here. I have lived an overweight, unathletic existence. The bad news is that it has severely limited my life, kept me from doing things I want to do, brought me all manner of hardship and rejection, but I can safely say I’ll never get stuck in a cave. If I were to look at the entrance to a cave, why, when others might say, “That looks fun!” I would say, “Screw that! Too much effort. I wouldn’t fit anyway. I’m going to go get a pizza.”
Am I saying to eat more pizza so that you won’t end up stuck in a cave? Yes. Wait, no. OK, don’t eat too much pizza and then just stay away from caves. There we go.
Does prayer work? I don’t know. “Let’s say a prayer” often comes across as cliche but there’s not really anything else we can do. I just feel bad for those Thai soccer cave boys. And my first reaction is to think their coach is a dumbass but I suppose he meant well and was just taking the kids on an excursion.
Anyway. Here’s my prayer.
“Dear God. Please save the Thai cave boys. May you take your mighty hand and drain the water that blocks their exit out of the cave. This would be easier than having them dive and shit. I’m sorry I said shit. That was unnecessary. Anyway, if you could get the Thai cave boys and their coach out of the cave and to safety, it would be appreciated. There are so few news stories with happy endings and we need one here.”
Anyway, that’s my prayer for the Thai cave boys. Not to brag, but I’m told Jesus is one of my 3.5 readers, so if you have a prayer for the Thai cave boys, leave it in the comments and I assume J-Dawg will pass it along to his old man.
Bookshelf Battle 