The "Guns and Bitter" Crowd

"And it's not surprising then that they get bitter, they cling to guns or religion or antipathy to people who aren't like them or anti-immigrant sentiment or anti-trade sentiment as a way to explain their frustrations." -- Barack Obama

The words of President Obama when he was candidate Obama almost ruined his presidential hopes. He made the statement on the campaign trail and the uproar nearly derailed his campaign. Republicans and Hilary Clinton formed an unusual partnership and jointly rubbed Obama's nose in the words, telling the American voters that Obama was "out of touch," "elitist," and "too liberal" to lead the country. They tried to tie Obama to the San Francisco Pelosi chardonnay drinking, brie eating crowd and the political damage was done. Candidate Obama had to stop his campaign and respond to the attacks from his left and right.

He obviously did an adequate job of damage control, since we now know "the rest of the story." But isn't it interesting to read that statement today and then watch the Republican Tea Party reaction to the Obama presidency at health care and tax day protests? How prescient was President Obama when he made that statement? Look at the Republican Tea Party protests this past year and you find the following: a bunch of anti-immigrant, anti-tax, anti-government, anti-you don't look like me protesters, some carrying handguns and rifles, many carrying signs stating "God is not a Muslim, but Obama is," and proclaiming they want their country back.

Bitter.

Clinging to their guns and religion.

Racist.

Xenophobic.

Frustrated that an African-American is their President.

And now we approach April 19, the 15th anniversary of the worst terror attack ever carried out against our country -- the bombing of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City by Timothy McVeigh and a few other domestic terrorists. I believe this act against our country was worse than the 9/11 attacks because it was carried out by American citizens against their own country. The 9/11 attacks killed more people and had greater impact on how we live our lives, but there is something about American citizens, former members of our military, building a crude bomb and setting it off in front of a federal building and killing fellow Americans -- including children in a daycare center (which McVeigh called "collateral damage") -- that is very disturbing to me. Al-Qaeda I understand, McVeigh I don't.

Was Timothy McVeigh bitter? Was he clinging to his guns? Was he anti-government? Does he sound like some of the Republican Tea Party protesters? From McVeigh's own words you can decide for yourself.

"The government is afraid of the guns people have because they have to have control of the people at all times. Once you take away the guns, you can do anything to the people. You give them an inch and they take a mile. I believe we are slowly turning into a socialist government. The government is continually growing bigger and more powerful and the people need to prepare to defend themselves against government control."

"Taxes are a joke. Regardless of what a political candidate "promises," they will increase. More taxes are always the answer to government mismanagement. They mess up. We suffer. Taxes are reaching cataclysmic levels, with no slowdown in sight... Is a Civil War Imminent? Do we have to shed blood to reform the current system? I hope it doesn't come to that. But it might."

I am hopeful that no one "celebrates" the 15th anniversary of the Oklahoma City bombing with a violent act against our country. But, frankly, I'm not confident that there aren't some bitter people, clinging to their guns and religion, with the same hatred and anti-government mindset of Timothy McVeigh, ready to do something terrible against others that don't look like them or think like them.

It's been done before, so don't kid yourself, it can happen again. The "Guns and Bitter" crowd is something to fear.

The Mean Streets of the Republican Tea Party

A means to an end is a tool, device, or strategy used to achieve a certain goal. We often hear the phrase "the end justifies the means" for example. But what if the means to the end are just plain mean?

Take for example the Republican Tea Party's efforts to stop healthcare reform. Here we have a group of people proclaiming to adhere to "Christian values," who continuously display hatred, disrespect, and general downright meanness to those less fortunate -- over and over again.

What is it about the Republican Tea Party members that they can't remain true to their Christian beliefs? Take a look at this video of Republican Tea Partiers at a recent rally in Ohio taunting and humiliating a man with Parkinson's disease who's sitting on the ground holding a pro-healthcare sign. The man is suffering from a tragic disease, one that robs a person of his ability to walk, talk, and take care of basic human functions such as eating, urinating and moving one's bowels. The poor man is probably on the ground because his legs can no longer support him. That's one of the symptoms of the disease, and as you'll see in the video the healthy Republican Tea Party protesters have no care or consideration for this man's condition. Instead, they point their fingers at him and tell him nothing comes for free.

No one offers a word of support. No one asks the man about his condition, about what his healthcare needs might be, or whether he even has insurance. No one asks if he is a Veteran. No one extends a hand to offer comfort. No one asks if he's hungry or would like a glass of water. No one asks if there's anything they can do to help a poor man sitting on the street stricken with a tragic and deadly disease.

Not a single Christian value was displayed by the Republican Tea Party members at that rally. And these are the people that expect us to start over on the healthcare bill and adopt their party's policies. What will their policies be? Taunting and humiliation of the sick and uninsured?

My father died from Advanced Parkinson's disease, so I am intimately familiar with what that man at the rally and his family will eventually have to face. Sadly, some of those same protesters will likely face a similar tragedy one day because either they or someone they love will contract the disease. For their sake, I hope they never have to suffer what that man on the street suffers. I hope they don't have to endure the humiliation of people throwing five-dollar bills in their faces.

The common belief about Parkinson's disease is that it makes you shake and have tremors. But there is another set of symptoms that lead to a stiffening of the body and a loss of cognitive abilities. A person with Parkinson's disease will eventually be unable to swallow solids or liquids because the trachea becomes paralyzed, and when he attempts to eat or drink, the substance winds up going into his lungs instead of his stomach. This causes him to aspirate and choke and get pneumonia from the fluids entering his lungs. So they place a tube directly into his stomach to make sure he gets the nutrients to keep him hydrated, fed, and nourished. The indignity is unbearable.

The disease paralyzes the body and mind. It has no cure and ends in a slow and painful death. Family members are left with the difficult decision of whether to continue their loved one's tragic existence, or to remove the tube and watch him slowly fade away and die. This is not how you want to see your father's life end. But that is the reality of Parkinson's disease.

Fortunately for my father, he had his loving wife and children around him to help make this decision. And for fifteen days he was surrounded with good care and words of love, until he finally succumbed to the disease. Unfortunately for the man in the street at the rally, he has Republican Tea Party members surrounding him, with their version of Christian "love," "compassion," and "sympathy."

"On this side of town you don't get anything for free," screams one man, pointing a finger. "You have to work for it!" Another tea-partier throws a five-dollar bill at the man's face and yells derisively, "I'll pay for this guy. Start a pot!" Then, as if that isn't enough indignity, he throws another bill. He steps back and stands tall, puffs out his chest; proud of the humiliation he inflicted on the man with Parkinson's sitting silently at his feet.

Meanness is not a human value. Meanness is not a Christian value. But meanness is evidently a Republican Tea Party value, and evidently meanness is their means to an end. The end that justifies the taunting and humiliation of a man with Parkinson's sitting on the street.

Heaven help us.

They want to lead our nation.

March 25 Update:
Here is an update to this article regarding the Republican Tea Party members humiliating a man with Parkinson's disease. Apparently the money thrower in the video had a change of heart and now feels terrible about his actions. Read the article here: Columbus Dispatch

It is not possible to know what is in this man's heart. Is he apologetic because he got caught? Or, is he genuinely sorry for his terrible behavior? I don't know, but I am pleased to see he has been found and exposed. Now we need to find the other prominent man in the video and make him explain his behavior. If he can.

New Perro, New Ruler

The New Ruler arrived a few weeks ago. A little rough around the edges. Black hair missing, rough skin exposed. Bulbous eyeball. Heart skipping beats. Sharp little bumps around the neck. Not what you envision for a ruler. But there she stood, waiting for our deference.

The new perro rules the house and she knows it. We know it too. "Woof, woof" she says. The Old Rulers jump to attention. We don't know what we're jumping for, only that the New Ruler has spoken and her needs must be met.

The history of the New Ruler is unclear. Her past servants probably got too old to care for her or got caught up in the bad economic cycle we hear so much about. We found her in an animal shelter -- hungry and run down, with no name -- though there were probably better times. A former ruler most certainly, now abandoned, with nothing but a good nose and a desire to rule again.

The shelter issued an appeal to rescue the vagrant perro. Inquiries were made. References checked. Questions asked. Yes, we have a fence. Yes, it is over 6 feet. Yes, we've owned perros before. No, we haven't sent one back. Yes, we can support her. We pass the interview and a time is arranged to meet the perro.

We arrive at the shelter, a grey cement block building located behind the Los Banos airport. You can't expect much from an animal shelter; the scene is jarring. The door to the shelter is opened by the caretaker and we step inside. The smell of ammonia hits our noses like the aftermath of a boxer's eight-count. The strong dose of disinfectant does little to mask the stench of urine and worn wet fur.

There are ten cages and our perro is in the last one, curled up on a wood slat bed with only a dirty towel for comfort. We get our first look through the wire cage. She is cold and tired and barely lifts her head. The caretaker releases the future ruler to a side yard for our first meeting.

She walks the yard with her head high, tail low, panting heavily, eyes looking for a way out, scanning the horizon beyond the fence. She ignores us at first. But slowly she slides over for an introduction. She's looking for something familiar -- an old face, the smell of a well-known hand, the sound of a recognizable command.

Not today. A new voice greets her. A fresh hand is extended for her to smell. She sits and looks up at us. We begin stroking her head and long ears. Eyes brighten, panting stops. We look each other in the eye. The perro groans and saliva drips from the side of her mouth. Slowly, the soft caresses and unspoken words create a new bond out of old memories and the deal is done. Both sides want what the other has to offer.

The caretaker approves of the exchange. A small donation is made and the New Ruler is free to go. She accepts her fate and eagerly climbs in the car for the ride to somewhere. As we drive away, the caretaker wipes her tears with one hand and waves goodbye with the other.

The ride home is long and the New Ruler reminds us so with an exhausted "woof, woof" all the way. We arrive and she takes her time inspecting her new home. A sniff there, a look here. She gives the cat a tired nod, signaling a truce from the beginning. She is worn out from the trip and a week on the shelter's cold cement floor. After a warm bath and a meal of chicken and rice, the New Ruler lies on her soft bed in front of her crackling fireplace and sleeps, likely dreaming of how she plans to reign over her new world.