The Coin of Citizenship

The Coin Of Citizenship
By Bill The Butcher And Brother Theo

America greatly resembles Ancient Rome in many ways. Both great nations can reasonably be called republics. Both great nations have fought their wars with citizen soldiers. Both great nations’ currencies have been the coin used by the rest of the world as trade currency, and both great nations can be said to have had discrete borders within which citizens had sovereign power. Not for nothing was the saying “when in Rome, do as the Romans”. This is because when inside the boundaries of Rome, one did not wish to call attention to their lack of official sanction.
For some time ordinary Americans have fought for their right to establish recognition of the official rights and declared value of our citizenship status. These efforts have been continually hindered by courts who see fit to tinker with our constitution ,the ultra rich who do not care to pay progressive taxes (actually none of us want to pay progressive taxes, but it is the only way to provide an equal value of citizenship to all legitimate citizens), and employers seeking cheaper and yet cheaper labor. This has been compounded for the last 35 years or so by outright corruption by nearly all of our government officials, a completely broken fourth estate, and a television/ motion picture industry utterly bent on making us feel guilty for being the world leader in a every category that matters.
So how does illegal immigration affect these issues? What's the big deal about illegal immigration? Well, I’m glad you asked! It’s not so much a matter of borders; our borders are well marked. Since the great tide of immigrants from the 1850’s to the 1950’s it's not been a matter of country of origin. Just about every person in America has their genetic roots in another country. It's also not a matter of color; in fact, nearly every African American can trace their family's appearance in America back further than most whites. Without question the closest thing to an ideal profile of being American is the idea that American citizens, great and small built a great nation which has risen above all other nations to lead, rather than rule the rest of the world, and in so doing created entitlements for future generations of Americans. This in turn creates an obligation for citizens to increase the legacy for future American citizens. In fact, only by increasing the pool of commonly shared benefits of citizenship by more than one has taken from it may anyone hope to find true greatness.

Simply shopping in a French clothing store does not make one French. Merely staying in an Irish hotel does not make one an Irish citizen, no matter how much Irish blood one has flowing in their veins. Just as working in a chicken processing center in East Texas, or picking fruit in California simply does not make a Honduran, Guatemalan, or Mexican an American citizen, regardless of how many family members they have in America, or how long they have been doing it. So, any equity built in America was built by American citizenry, and may unquestionably be viewed as a legacy by surviving Americans and their American born offspring, as well as persons awarded citizenship according to the naturalization laws of our country. There can be no argument with this truth.

No other country in the world would allow an American to cross their borders illegally, and take up residence, acquiring access to all of the benefits that legal citizens of that country have built for generations, much less remove currency from that country's economy by sending it back to America where it would acquire yet more value on American soil, thereby weakening the value of that currency in the country of its issue.Truly, in a very real way, nations are like country clubs; if one wishes to join, they must first apply for membership. Upon acceptance one then pays dues and agrees to abide by the rules and bylaws developed by previous membership, including conducting oneself in a polite and agreeable manner, and speak to one another in a language common to club members. Also, one simply does not wear clothing to affairs in their new country club that advertises the superiority of their former country club.
Think of it this way, if folks who are not members simply carry their clubs onto your country club's golf course, say climbing the fence around it, whenever they want to play a round, bringing the family, of course, to picnic on the greens whenever they like, you might get a tee time in the next decade.
The big deal about illegal immigration is that it waters down the coin value of the citizenship of those persons whose citizenship is rightful by the laws of that nation, and by God, I'm fed up with it. I disagree completely with fathead historians who snigger at the comparisons made between Rome and America, and will debate the issue with anyone who likes, as long as t hey agree not to cry when I destroy their pretentious arguments. One of the pillars of Rome was a prosperous citizenry, and one of the corrosive effects on that prosperity was that the city, and the entire peninsula, for that matter, was awash with slaves and cheap labor in the form of freed slaves (so freed because they became old, disabled, or too expensive to keep). By the 1st century B.C.the watering down of the citizen profile in Rome which led to a similar dilution in both citizen identity, and the value of the coin of citizenship. For more, keep reading the articles we write in this series. It ain't over by a long shot, and as long as it ain't, well, we ain't done talking about it!

March For America 2016

Whenever you begin any endeavor where you have no intention of delivering the results you purported to in the onset, and have cloudy accounting principles to hide these intentions you have just engaged in a con game, make no mistake. When someone forms an LLC, or a corporation in a state other than their state of residence you must ask, “Why?” When you see large groups of people questioning the actions of the organization you must question the reasons. When you see the leader of the organization repeatedly flinging accusations that he cannot support, and drawing endless lines in the sand you must accept that the organization is not what it was put out to be, and that there is an alternative motive driving it from within.

Such an organization is March For America 2016! What began as a patriot group quickly evolved into a semi-marketing internet machine diverting funds and dropping orders for products, while shorting suppliers, and launching into attacks on anyone who dared to question the actions of the principles within the group. Combine this with endless rants on social media, real or implied threats, and outright lies, and you have a full blown business model designed to divert money from good intentioned Americans who only wanted to support a change in direction for our country. This is unconscionable! 

Scott Binsack's record is free on the internet for anyone to see. In spite of his explanations and rants, he has left a trail of failed businesses, convictions, and victims of his endeavors well back into the last century, and that's not slander people, that is documented fact! In this latest effort he has added a new twist of religious fervor which caters to elderly women, his victim of choice. He mounts his pulpit nightly ranting in his convoluted style, bringing in news stories which he is happy to borrow from the likes of Alex Jones, Dennis Michael Lynch, or Outlaw Morgan, sometimes reading right off the iPad screen, telling his minions they “heard it here first,” lending the element of political insight or prophecy to his endless screaming. 

Binsack will not and cannot debate openly with anyone who disagrees with him because he has no understanding of politics on even the most elemental level, and his limited education forbids any rational analysis of the plagiarized “news” he vomits every night. There IS no “March For America” in any real sense of the word. When he finds his way to any public event he blends into the crowd, and calls it his own. With his “executive secretary,” Dawn Morgan, working tirelessly from some hotel, he bolsters this by creating endless Facebook Avatars to give the illusion of national support, while orders for items ordered by believers are being dropped or simply ignored. Anyone who dares to challenge this in even the slightest way is quickly told to, “Pack their ‘items” and slandered to the nines! 

Binsack is very good at simple illusion, but poor at details, which quickly reveal his cons on many levels. He goes on and on about “off shore” bank accounts, yet lives between the apartment of the alleged mother of one of his children, and the hotel room where Miss Morgan works tirelessly maintaining his web presence. He “broadcasts” from his car, or a conference room in Morgan’s hotel, which he calls the “studio” of MFA-TV. He claims to be picking up his BMW after replacing the rims, yet photos  prove the rims are the same ones that were on the car weeks ago, making one wonder if the car was being customized or did Morgan simply run out of money for the lease. You would think he would simply draw money from some Swiss bank and buy the car! He discussed picking up the car, not inside the dealership, but in the parking lot with a mechanic, who is, of course, conveniently off screen. When he enters the car he notices certain personal items like his MFA coffee cup and phone holder are missing. This is where he's not good at details. When you drop your lease they CLEAN the car for he next customer!  

How will this all end? There are groups working to expose March For America, who are involved with state and federal law enforcement. It is a long and tangled trail because Binsack has a unique ability of keeping his toe just this side of the legal line. This present enterprise is too complicated for him to manage all the elements, and this time he has created too many enemies, and burned too many bridges to tie up all the loose ends. If March For America ends in prosecution, or dies with a whimper is anyone's guess. Anyone with common sense should investigate long and hard, and consider before contributing toward this effort. 


Sent from my iPad

If There Ain't No Rip Your Case Is Flipped

Please watch this video. https://youtu.be/8zt4anqnJoc. It is the “official” version of what happened the night Nichole Brown and Ron Goldman were killed. It ties together very nicely, and it’s easy to place OJ Simpson there at the event. We all know the story of the famous glove. Premier racist, Mark Fuhrman takes the glove to OJ’s house and strategically places it where it can be found, and the rest is history. Let's talk about that. Now, one glove is left at the murder scene, and one allegedly transported to OJ’s place. So we are led to believe that the detective picked up one glove in order to effect the frame up. In order to make this work you must assume the killer removed both gloves, leaving both on the ground. The detective takes one, and leaves one. The only alternative is that the killer really DID leave one glove and stupidly discarded the other when he got home. 

When OJ flew back from Chicago he had a cut on his hand. The prosecution contended that this cut happened during the murders, while OJ said it happened in Chicago. Now let's look at this.  OJ answers the phone with a cocktail in his hand. He is informed that his ex-wife has been killed. He slams the glass down in the sink, where blood WAS found by the way, and cuts his finger. He says that he really can't remember how he cut the finger. He'd be lucky if he could remember the rest of the night after a call like that. Lucky he was coherent enough to make flight arrangements. When he arrived in LA the cut was still fresh. Still, there were the glove(s). 

We all remember the famous glove fashion show for the jury. For whatEVER reason The Juice couldn't put them all the way on. Well, I have an idea about that. I had a similar pair of gloves that came with my Mercedes. They ended up in the trunk of the car for a season and when I found them I simply could not get them on. I used saddle soap and limbered them up. These were not garden gloves folks, they were skin tight fashion gloves! So there is OJ displaying the ill fit for the court. Back to the scene of the crime. 

Allegedly OJ hits Goldman, pops Nichole long side her head about the same time, then guts Goldman, turns and cuts Nichole’s throat and suddenly discovers he's lost the hat. So, everybody's dead, dog’s a barking,  he removes one glove and goes feeling around in the dark, losing the glove, and never retrieving the hat. Now make a note. The people are dead, knife work’s done. Anyway, he goes home, loses the other glove in the yard, yeah this professional football player doesn't seem to have the coordination to keep a sport glove on his hand, drops it in the yard and sprints off for a shower. 

There is one damning clue in the display of the gloves by OJ to the jury. Forget the fit, just understand that he was stretching those gloves in a display of great effort, either real or contrived. Now, if we remember that according to the prosecutions own experts, OJ had both glove ON during the actual stabbing. Where's the cut? If he cut his own finger during the fight, where is the corresponding cut on the glove? It is not possible to cut your finger without cutting through the glove. “If the glove don't fit, you must acquit?” No, if there ain't no rip your case is flipped!

Effigy

“Then you better start swimming or you'll sink like a stone because times they are a changing.” There are no truer words in the English language. The landscape of communication changes with each generation, indeed, these days, within each decade, or sooner. The old adage that today's news is tomorrow's fish paper has been put on steroids. Today’s iPad is tomorrow's recycled plastic, and everything in it. One thing never changes, the future belongs to the swift. 

FM radio was the rage of the age. MADE pop stars overnight. MTV blew FM out of the water. Then YouTube sent MTV packing. Is there a video anywhere on MTV anymore? Is there EVEN an MTV anymore? Now the advent of the live feed is taking the market by storm. While the dead or dying main stream media grinds out its fake news,  Alex Jones, Dennis Michael Lynch, and many others generate the real news from their iPhones. The approaches are all different, but the results are the same. People will tune into THEM before they'll watch the cackle babble heads in the ultra slick plastic boxes of MSNBC, or Fox News. Jones, with his “Walter Cronkite” studio approach, or Lynch, who's feeds are reminiscent of YouTube legend Renetto, walking along a garden path with his camera in his hand. 

The live feeds as yet, haven't been corrupted by advertising, or profit sharing. There are rising stars, and a few flops. The style is being developed. What works, and what fails is just beginning to be understood. As the art form takes position the owners of the networks are scrambling to understand what they simply cannot. They are like dinosaurs standing by a BetaMax while the world has already moved on to DVDs and beyond. 

Some standard rules remain. On one end you have short, direct shows that drill down like Emily Longworth, who comes at us with a short message salted with a little sailor talk, all the way to Scott Binsack who rambles for hours like a deranged Oral Roberts, promising salvation if you'll only by a T-Shirt. Only problem is that this is the fifteen minute generation that absorbs terabytes of information over a burger, and has a BS barometer set to zero! Elimly ten, Binsack zero! Ring the bell, school’s in! 

This is the reality of mass media. This is the business we've chosen. No one asked anyone to pull off the freeway in Nashville and join the music business, and no one asked anyone to jump into the firestorm of mass media. Simple fact is the kids will flock to Longworth, they'll make short work of old school hacks like Binsack, and he’ll get all upset just like Bill Haley did when he discovered that a guy from Memphis was the real king or rock and roll. Evolution always moves on. Unless I miss my guess, somewhere in New Mexico there are a couple of kids, living on beer and hot dogs, sitting in a garage, quietly carving the epitaph of Facebook’s tombstone while the baby in the playpen beside them is waiting to carve THEIRS! 

The Future of Journalism

If you will notice I shagged back a bit yesterday.  No big mystery here. We have now moved a family into the house we were rebuilding. I'm still in my apartment up front, but for all intents and purposes they are settling into the house, which has been a Wild West show, up to and including gunfire, for the last four years ( there's a message there Beetlejuice.) For the first time since April 17, 2012 we had a California wine and cheese on the porch with guests milling around the grounds discussing politics, weather, and future hopes.

From here we will complete the repairs on the other house that suffered the fire. I'll move there to supervise that. By May that will be complete and my grandkids may or may not summer in Texas. I would prefer they stay in Utah. They like it there, they are settled in, and I want them to have a milder summer than we do here. The attacks my family has endured has been relentless. Hundreds of calls, all coming from six ex-convicts causing my children to run from one state to another. That is all over now and I'm paying these people back with interest. Vengeance is mine saith the Lord, and I'll go with that, but I do take a little myself!

In spite of all this the publications have proliferated. The landscape has evolved and it's exciting. The printed word has been replaced with an iPhone and Facebook LiveFeed. We are standing on the edge of a huge leap forward in communications. The rules are remarkably the same as they were in 2006 when Jackie leaned over my shoulder, saw YouTube for the first time, and asked, "What do we have here?" Video killed the radio star, and Facebook killed the YouTube phenomenon.

Yesterday I stopped, took a break, and assessed the future of my enterprise. I intend to make a fortune. I like to set reasonable goals. Shifting my focus will allow me to generate better copy, and garner more readers and viewers. I look forward to entertaining all of you for years to come. It was a great wine and cheese last night. 

The Alamo

I first saw the Alamo in 1968. I was part of the Killeen High School Jr/Sr choir scheduled to sing at the HemisFair 68 in San Antonio. They put us up in these little tee-pee huts about fifteen miles out from the center or town, but the bus driver circled through downtown San Antonio to give us a close look at the Tower of the America's, and, of course, winding our way back to Interstate 35 meant we had to go past the Alamo. It was night. The old chapel, the only original part left, save part of the Long Barracks, was lit up with a reddish-orange light, giving the building a surreal image to all of us high school kids in the bus. Being a choir, the girls began to sing a hymn. This was back in the day before God was expelled from school. Then they sang “Five Hundred Miles Away From Home.” 

The Alamo was my first “famous” building. The next day was filled with activities at the fair, and, of course, we had to sing, but when all that was done I found my way down Commerce Street, and up the back of the Alamo. In those days you could walk right in. The caretakers were a bunch of little old ladies, the Daughters of the Republic of Texas. Once inside you could just look around at anything you wanted. I don't think there was air conditioning there back then. The inside smelled like Tabasco. I remember the stone being solid, but worn. I wasn't Catholic so I didn't know the significance of the various rooms, or the layout of the main area. From there I went to the little museum just across the courtyard. The old ladies had filled it with personal items from Mexican bayonets to wedding gowns from the nineteenth century. It was quite boring to me at that age.

In front of the main building there was this huge monument that was like a cross between a grave stone and the Washington Monument. There were the lists of the names of all the defenders of the mission who could be identified, and an image of them kneeling in a fire so we all assumed that's where Santa Anna burned the bodies. I learned much later that it was nearer to the La Quinta Hotel behind the chapel, beside  what is now the River Walk. 

In Texas back then it was required that you take Texas History. Until that all I knew about the battle that occurred in 1836 came from the John Wayne movie. I remember when I took the class in school I was rather let down when I saw the real Davy Crockett, who looked a little like my civics teacher. Even though I took the class, I really didn't understand what really happened during the battle. Actually, it's taken the better part of one hundred and eighty years to untangle what really DID happen during those thirteen days.

There are two viewpoints of the battle. There is what I call the “John Wayne” view i.e. big, brave white men with one old black guy huddled up in an old church while the Mexicans spilled over the walls like monkeys, and there are now diaries and letters from the Mexican side that demonstrates a well organized assault, planned out over about two weeks, designed to wear down the defenders and reduce the position. There are legends coming out of the battle, and Texans hold fast to them, but the truth can be far more interesting. 

It is now commonly agreed upon that Travis, the commander of the fort, never drew a line in the sand. From his own  communications he demonstrated a resolve to hold the position in the vain hope that Texans would rally to the cause and bring reinforcements to stay the Mexican army. This was folly. If there had been five times their number inside, Santa Anna would have just had to starve and bombard them that longer before the final assault. The assault was completely different from the John Wayne movie. Lining up your troops, in broad daylight, announcing a charge, and running into a brick wall would be the actions of a blithering idiot! The actual attack began about four thirty in the morning, ending just before sunrise. Santa Anna ceased the cannon fire early that night, allowing the defenders of the Alamo to rest for the first time in almost two weeks. After they were all tucked in, his troops just walked up to the mission. One Mexican soldier got caught up in the moment, and shouted, “Viva Santa Anna” as they reached the wall, which, of course, aroused the defenders and the fight began.

In our history class we were told that Travis fought bravely, and upon being shot, broke his sword, throwing it at the approaching troops, and killed a Mexican as he fell. It is more likely he peered over the wall and was shot it the face in the early part of the battle. Bowie really did die in his sick bed, and depending upon the condition of his health you can speculate at how much damage he did in those final moments. Then there's Daaaaaavy Crockett. King of the wild frontier. The Fess Parker Davy died on the wall clubbing Mexicans with his musket. Of course, John Wayne stumbled, with a lance sticking in his chest, into the chapel, setting off the powder magazine, blowing the side out of the building. In classic John Wayne fashion  after  he got stuck, he broke the pole off, leaving only the end still in his chest, made a half hearted swing at a Mexican soldier who promptly fell dead at his feet, and entered the church. Mexicans were incredibly easy to kill in those days. In reality we have the Peña diary that claims Crockett, and several others were captured, and executed after the battle. Mrs Dickerson said she saw his body near the front of the chapel as she left, which would put him near the wooden barrier he was defending, but we do not know if he fell in battle, or if that was his point of execution. 

The victory of the battle was the fact that what occurred there so completely irritated the Texans, that they eventually pulled themselves together and figured a way to make Santa Anna hold HIS position later at San Jacinto. As cries of, “Remember the Alamo” raced toward them, the Mexican soldiers pleaded in the only English they knew, “Me no Alamo!” It didn't do them any good. In eighteen minutes that portion of Santa Anna’s army was routed, and the Republic of Texas was born beneath an oak tree. The mystique of the Alamo remains. In spite of all the history, and new information, every time I go there, I always go the the courtyard where Travis drew that legendary line in the sand.  Hey! The line in the sand was cool. 

Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?

I will write this as an open letter; because we are friends, and because your article needs a reply. First, a contract is a recorded agreement between parties who are named signatories. The so called social contract is an implied agreement between those who produce, and those who consume. There are already agreements in place between such parties. Those who produce naturally must be able to control the resources necessary for production, such as raw materials, machinery, land, transportation, and, most importantly labor. It seems you have a problem with that. Those who consume must have access to the means of consumption, such as currency, or trade. This comes about as a condition of participation in production which I like to call employment. Without currency or trade, what entitles a person to product? If you cannot, or more importantly, will not contribute to production you are in the way of production. Without production, society stops. If one follows Rousseau’s ideology to its conclusion, mankind is presented with one of two choices: First, one may revert to nature; that was actually the solution Rousseau preferred. As I recall, Voltaire responded that the Social Contract made him wish he could drop to all fours and cavort about in a more natural state. I must say, I feel no such compulsion. The second possibility is to acknowledge that the resources of our world are shared resources belonging more or less equally to all persons alive and yet to be born. Where art thou Brother Theo? That, my longtime friend, is a liberal idea. To implement such an idea would be to cancel out the underpinnings of capitalism. Why, to simply allow such an idea to ascend would strip away everything that has made America great! You think might does not make right? Take another look at our military my friend. Ask the Israelis if might does not make right; Mighty Rome vaporized Judea, and by God, Mighty America restored it. Rightfully or not, all parties abided by those outcomes. What is “right” anyway? Jesus said, “render up unto Caesar that which is Caesar's”. That's just a different way of saying “it is what it is”. 
Now, Theo, we have been friends practically forever, but we do disagree on some subjects. You like Irish whiskey and Scotch, I like bourbon and martinis. You like your women smart, and I just like women, but on this idea, well, I would agree with you, but you're wrong.
Let me put it this way. America has a social contract; it’s called the constitution. Some of my ancestors died to make that possible too. As far as I can see the constitution is inviolate, so there can be no so called “trajectory” to it. The kind of thinking underlying your article has led this nation into political and economic chaos. Let me give you one little example: In the greatest power plays of their days, President Lincoln used war to end slavery, and President Johnson used the specter of the dissolution of democracy to end the right of the south to govern their states as they saw fit. Both used might to bring about what they thought was right. Were they right? In both cases, they were wrong! Slavery and Jim Crow would have both collapsed on their own, because both were spectacularly unsustainable. Instead, the civil war endures. The confederate flag flies above as many buildings as does the American flag. Southern men and women belong to a different culture than th e rest of the country, making any election a toss up. Without a doubt the end of slavery by the sword led to Jim Crow.  Sixty  percent of those imprisoned in America today are black, and the rate of imprisonment for blacks has rise seven hundred percent since 1970. That's faster than the crime rate itself has risen! That phenomenon also coincides roughly with the passage of the civil rights act and voting rights act. 
As I said, this is an open letter. So, where art thou o Brother? Your thoughts?