Reformer, Heal Thyself
Sam Aurelius Milam III
Some time ago, I watched Mr. Monk and the Marathon Man, Season 1, Episode 9 of Monk. For the benefit of people who aren't familiar with him, Mr. Monk is obsessive-compulsive. One of his difficulties is a reluctance to touch another person. He compulsively cleans his hand if he has to shake hands with somebody.
In the referenced episode, Mr. Monk had to shake hands with the members of the staff of a small office. By coincidence, the last person with whom he shook hands was a black man. When Mr. Monk cleaned his hand with a wet wipe, everybody on the staff, and especially the black man, bristled with resentment. They all believed that Mr. Monk had cleaned his hand because of touching a black man.
Those people were intolerant of Mr. Monk's attitude, as they perceived it, to the point of hostility. The black man actually declared that he had to leave immediately, before he did something that he'd regret. It was a thinly veiled threat of violence, and it had the enthusiastic approval of the other members of the staff. They remained openly hostile to Mr. Monk, throughout the ensuing discussion.
Fiction sometimes reveals truth. That episode of Monk was a good example. Those people pretended to a high degree of tolerance. In fact, they were just as intolerant of Mr. Monk as they thought he was of black people, and they were more prone to violence than he was. That made them just as much bigots as they presumed him to be. People like that should take a look at themselves. If they want to reduce racial intolerance, then they need to learn that the problem isn't race. The problem is intolerance. Failing to tolerate someone who is intolerant is, itself, an instance of intolerance. Indeed, it's the worst kind of intolerance because it creates in the reformers a holier-than-thou attitude, encouraging them to self-righteousness.
It's important to note that such enforcers of racial tolerance are lying to themselves. To clarify that, not once in my entire life have I ever tolerated a pecan pie. That's because I like pecan pie. When somebody is required, against his will, to tolerate somebody that he doesn't like, that's an unspoken acknowledgment that he doesn't like the person. If he liked the person, then tolerating him wouldn't be necessary. To pretend that enforced tolerance is the same thing as approval, or that it somehow creates approval, is delusional, the irrational self-deception of a fool.
Actually, it's even worse than that. When the reformers enforce tolerance while implicitly requiring approval, they end up punishing people not for their behavior, but for their beliefs. Tolerance becomes tantamount to mind control, a euphemism for the reformer's particular brand of Orwellian thought control. Such attempts to control people's attitudes are unacceptable. If a man doesn't like somebody due to religion, race, gender, ethnicity, creed, occupation, sexual preferences, hair style, eye color, poor table manners, odor, or anything else, however trivial or irrational the idiotic reasons might be, then that's his business, and nobody else's. Courtesy might be expected of him, but not approval. A bigot has just as much right to his attitudes, right or wrong, as the reformers have to theirs. The only alternative is that nobody has any right at all to his own attitude but, instead, must have whatever attitudes are approved by the thought police. If we are to have freedom of thought, then we must tolerate freedom of thought.
The reformers who have taken it upon themselves to be the enforcers of political correctness have stepped way over the line of what's acceptable. They've tried to make themselves into the arbiters of everybody else's attitudes. That makes them more dangerous than the bigots that they claim to oppose, because they hide their own bigotry behind a facade of phony virtue. At least an honest bigot calls a spade a spade. The reformers impose their evangelism onto us and hide their hypocrisy from us, making them unworthy of their cause. Learning to tolerate intolerant people is the only service that they might belatedly make to that cause. Minding their own business, and mending their own behavior, would be a good way to start.
|Letters to the Editor
I hope this finds you well. Thanks for the Frontiersman. I've been getting them regularly. I thank everyone and nice to see a letter of mine in there again [December 2017, Letter to the Editor, page 3]. Thanks....
... I'm so glad you're still alive! (Referring to the post office notice shown in the recent Frontiersman! Shock!)....
... I really liked the advice you gave "Jim" to "not support the gov't" any way one can [November 2017. Letter to the Editor, page 1]. I am very near the end of my "fight" and can then remove myself from their grid....
I hope this finds you well & am wishing you a very healthy & free 2018 w/blessing upon blessing for you....
About 5 or 6 or 7 (or so) issues of Frontiersman ago you had an insert page that contained the greatest short quote ever about hypocrisy — how it was arguably worse than evil in general....
The insert was in the August 2017 issue.
In your Jan. 2018 [A Good Beginning, pages 1-2], you say, after the 9/11 attacks you mostly stopped watching the U.S. network news. May I ask why and where do you get your source of news now? I also watch non-U.S. sources of news, such as the B.B.C., what are your views of them?
And you also say in the newsletter [same article], "covert U.S. government forces conducted the 9/11 attacks...." Can you give me your reasoning for coming to that conclusion. As for me, I'm a Christian, but one whose thought process is very clinical and based on provable science.
Just a few of the reasons I know the twin towers were not brought down by a plane are this. 1> take a scale photo of the jet and overlay it on the hole in the Pentagon. The jet engines lay right over unbroken windows on the Pentagon, and the tail is higher than the undamaged roof. And supposedly the fire consumed the airplane in its entirety. Impossible. The engines made by Rolls Royce are made of titanium and can't be melted by the temperature of burning aviation fuel.
Did you know a skyscraper in California was hit by a 707 jet back in the 1970s, and despite the fact it burned for 3 days, only the top 3 floors collapsed. As a matter of fact, only 3 buildings hit by a plane in all of history fell down completely. They happen to be building 1, 2, and 7 of the World Trade Center. Buildings 1 & 2, hit directly by planes, came down in less than an hour. I'll leave that one alone but why did building 7 collapse? It didn't. Secret Service on a news report that day said, "We were worried about building 7's integrity so we brought it down..." (I'm remembering here, so it may not be exact, but I'm close) What does, "We brought it down" mean? Are they saying "controlled demolition?" If so, I worked a demolition job where we brought down a 5 story steel foundry machine and it took weeks and weeks of preparation. It would be 100% impossible for any crew to prepare and bring down a building on the same day. So, what was in building 7 is what we should really be asking. And do some research on the names of the people who died. True, most of the victims were 1st responders. But of the thousands of names listed as deceased, I did searches and over half of the hijackers I found alive and well in other countries. And hundreds of the victims I couldn't find any actual obituaries. So I quit searching because so many names appeared to be fake entries to beef up the "news". And the plane brought down by the passengers and the Pentagon, where is the debris, not even a piece of metal you can positively identify to a plane. Where is the D.N.A. from the victims?
I could literally go on and on. I'm curious as to your opinion Sam.
And I won't even comment on Ruby Ridge, Mount Carmel, and the long list of wrongs our government has perpetrated or I would have to write a book.
Very truly yours,
The news agencies reported the government's lies about 9/11 without shame or apology. Joseph Goebbels himself couldn't have done it better. It was intolerable and unforgivable.
I occasionally run across a bit of some news program, while I'm changing channels, but I usually change the channel again pretty quickly. I've occasionally watched short pieces of non-U.S. news programs. They all seem to be government propaganda machines. I believe that there's more useful information about the condition and direction of American society in TV dramas, TV commercials, documentaries, reality shows, and situation comedies than there is in the news programs.
Regarding my opinions about the 9/11 attacks, see my essays Pentagon Anomalies and Unnamed Agency. They're available in The Sovereign's Library.
Sam Aurelius Milam III
When I was a child, Grandma told me that she'd once seen a star shining through the dark part of a crescent moon. She was sure that the star had been within the circle of the moon, and not outside of its circumference. I doubt that it was actually a star shining through the moon but I don't doubt that she gave an honest account of what she saw, using the best description that she could. It seems likely to me that, sometime during the early 1900s, something made a very bright light on the surface of the moon.
My Aunt Isabelle told me of something that she saw, many years ago. She said that she was young at the time, so I'm guessing that it was in the late 1950s. As part of the story, I need to explain the configuration of some of the roads in southern Louisiana, back then. They were built through swamps. They were straight and level, and several feet above water level. On either side, there was nothing but swamp, for miles, occasionally interrupted by oil refineries. Isabelle told me that, one day, she was driving along such a road and, ahead of her, she saw a telephone pole laying across the road. She took her foot off of the gas pedal and coasted to a stop near the telephone pole. To her distress, she saw that it wasn't a telephone pole. It was a snake. It was moving slowly across the road. It's head was out of sight, in the swamp, on one side of the road. Its tail was out of sight, in the swamp, on the other side of the road. Isabelle was afraid to move. She sat as still as possible, and tried to be really quiet, until the snake had crawled out of sight, into the swamp.
I measured the width of the street in front of the house were I currently live. I'm not saying that it's exactly the same width as the road where Isabelle saw the snake, but it's probably close. Based on that, the snake that Isabelle saw must have been at least 35 feet long. It was alive in Louisiana 60 or so years ago, long before the current scare about invasive species. A johnny-come-lately Burmese Python would make a mere snack for the snake that Isabelle saw.
Poppa told me a story about a large doglike animal that he saw. His sighting was from sometime during the early 1960s. His story was that, late one night, he was sitting alone in the kitchen, doing nothing. He heard a noise out back, got up, picked up the BB gun, and walked out through the back porch and into the back yard. He said that, just as he stepped around the corner, behind the porch, he found himself face-to-face with what he described as a very large white dog. He said that it's back was at about the same level as his waist. Even if its perceived size was exaggerated somewhat by the dark of night, it was still a large animal. He said that he'd have been scared if he hadn't been so busy feeling stupid for walking out into the back yard to investigate a strange noise, in the dark, on crutches, with just a BB gun. The animal turned around and strolled away.
My brother Tommy saw the same animal, or a similar one. According to his best guess, he was about 10 or 12 years old at the time, placing his story also in the early 1960s. Poppa had built a large storage box, against the wall, in the bedroom that Tommy and I shared at the time. The top surface of the box was large enough to sleep on, somewhat comparable in size to that of a folding cot. With the help of a foam mattress, Tommy was using the box as a bed. The top surface of the box was at the same level as the bottom of the window, so Tommy could easily see out the window, from the bed, without moving.
One night, Tommy was awakened by what appeared to be a large white dog, laying on the ground and chewing on a giant bone. It was quite noisy, with a lot of crunching. It was late at night, during the summer, so the window was open, with only the screen between Tommy and the animal. It was large enough that he could see it clearly in the starlight.
At first, Tommy thought that the animal was one of our dogs, that had gotten loose. Just as he took a breath to yell at it, the animal stood up. It was only about 8 feet away from him, with only a window screen between them. When it stood up, it's head and the bone were as high as Tommy was, on the box. Since the floor level in the house was a little higher than ground level, outside, it was quite a large animal. After it stood up, it walked away across the front of the house, toward the driveway.
Tommy and I, alone or together, spent many hours hiking around on a large piece of land northeast of our home. In years gone by, it had been pasture, farmland, homesteads, and so forth. By the 1960s, it was, essentially, a kind of wilderness. It was bounded on one side by a country highway and on the other three sides by farm roads. It was probably more than 10,000 acres in size, and occupied only along the edges, at the roads. Beyond those boundaries, there was more of the same, for miles. During the years that Tommy and I explored that piece of land, we never saw any wolves but, in retrospect, I suppose that the wolves probably saw us, plenty of times.
My thanks to the following: SantaClara Bob; Betty; and Eric, of Ione, California.
— Sam Aurelius Milam III, editor