Tagged: america
Review of the Christian Nationalist (haha) Stage Musical, “Finding America”
I have a friend who, in short, helped shuttle the worried BIPOC migrants around Minneapolis during last winter’s Surge. He loved PTA’s One Battle After Another. And we had a few conversations exploring the Talerico-style interpretation of Jesus.
That friend is to whom I texted pictures of the auditorium. This was the screen.
We bantered back and forth for a minute about how different this crowd likely was from the No Kings rally in San Francisco that his trip there had randomly allowed him to witness. My main point was despite all expectations, my room was pretty diverse (mostly due to international crowd), whereas the No Kings crowd is almost exclusively white (and not internationally relevant).
I put the phone away and sat back, unsure of what to expect.
Afterwords, I sent him the following notes, accompanied by the program/scene descriptions.
Here, I want to take a moment to flesh these observations out a bit.
“Nothing like the Lefties would expect”
I like to believe that I am very sensitive and in touch with the passing scene. In other words, I don’t need communists’ help to notice the group or subgroup known as “Christian Nationalists.”
The difference (besides the fact that I am no longer hell bound, Glory Hallelujah!) between the Lefties and me, however, is I will bravely enter the CN’s den. And guess what? The Lefties have it all wrong. The main problem with their imaginations is that white supremacy has no part in Christian Nationalism.
Again, white supremacy is certainly a reality for some folks, no different than Christian Nationalism is real. But the two are not linked. Here’s how I know. Ever since I married an immigrant from Ethiopia, I have dreaded the experience of being around “whites”. You know who I mean. Those people who need to compensate for something by making a point to come over and chat. I know who they are because I am the same person I have always been—and they never showed interest. But now that there is some manner of compensatory atonement available, they are chatty Kathy. Again, I don’t avoid these moments, but I dread them.
But here’s the point: among these Christian Nationalists, we were totally ignored. Ignored by Hindustan-ians (Dot not feather), Europeans, Africans, Asians, etc. The group was legitimately diverse.
“Somehow Not Silly”
Anytime adults play-act as GW and William Tyndale and pilgrims and settlers and Indians (feather not dot) and colonial Blacks anymore, I totally expect silliness. And I know this is the result of the Left’s influence on me. And yet this Stage Musical was somehow not silly. My gut says that it was because even these Christian Nationalists are very aware of the criticism the Left has launched at overly romantic portrayals of colonialism and colonial times in America. So the script just avoids landmines.
I also commented to my wife (who had spent a couple days earlier in the week at the Family Camp and was the reason we went yesterday) that sometimes the phrase “loosely based on true events” is used. And that in this case, the “looseness was so loose that it would be difficult to say they even were making historical claims that could be verified or found wanting.” But I am on Vol 5. of GW’s biography and can comfortably feel the thematic relationship to history. In short, the musical definitely claimed “historical accuracy” but not completeness. And in this, it succeeded.
I’d be remiss if I didn’t comment on the whole Christian part of the lesson. Does it take more than one Indian Christian, more than one Black Christian to teach us that Jesus died for all? No, no it does not. I can’t make their decision for them, no different than I can make your decision for you.
“Easier to pick on audience than the performance.”
I have young kids. The effect this has on me is that I enjoy the idea of dressing or acting more loudly than my “quiet professionals”, special operations trained self would otherwise allow. I don’t wear an American flag as clothing, but I do like being around people who do. And I might get there someday.
Just the same, it is merely fun to me. And it bedazzles even me. Are these people serious? Or just having likewise fun? I can’t always tell. But again, the performance was so polished that it would be difficult to mock. And this was not the case regarding certain stars and bars bedecked citizens.
“Attracting Out Group”
I would include more links etc, but the website bills the show for today and yesterday only. And this is part of my issue with this idea of these uber Christian events (Chosen being most well-known, ergo most egregiously guilty) as evangelism. How would a non-believer even know about these things? And I am number one movie-fan and music-fan on earth when it comes to flatly admitting the best of secular music/movies/shows is generally incomparably more appealing than religious attempts. There is just something missing in Christian attempts at entertainment. I would say it is the fear of impurity. But whatever it is, the whole idea that Finding America or Chosen is on par with Broadway and Hollywood or even “close enough” is laughable to me.
Hear me clearly: in evangelism the goal is to faithfully proclaim the Gospel of Jesus Christ, the same one the Bible writers do. This includes your actions too.
Final Thought
I like talking and contemplating politics. I love America. I fully believe American-led, Western Civilization is unique and a great boon for the inhabitants of planet Earth. And this belief is the result of great study and wide experience among different cultures and conditions. I went to the musical because our other plans here in tinderbox Colorado were cancelled and I wanted the kids to see Christian Nationalists for what they were. I would go again because it is fun to be around people who like life—not for a history lesson or to learn from it. That’s what books are for.
Oh. Final, final thought. Did my kids do anything to indicate they have a brain? Good question. Yes. The performance opened with some GW revolutionary war scenes, and when they switched to the Christian/church history stuff, unprompted, A- (5.87 yr old) turned to me (after declaring that she thought it must be night outside because it was so dark inside) and said, “Now they’re talking about Jesus.”
That’s all I could ask of a person. Discernment.
Maybe My First Podcast Recommendation Ever
I can’t recall ever using this blog to recommend a podcast episode before. In any case, I haven’t done it often. But I just listened to one that is a “must listen”, if such a thing exists.
It is Peter Robinson’s latest. He interviews a historian on the topic of The History of Communist China. (It is just over an hour.)
Do you know any communists? If so, listen.
Have you somehow marooned yourself and your WordPress Reader alone on an island? If so, listen.
Let’s just say, upon completing the episode, I have begun teaching A- and J- (5 and 4 respectively) two general and absolute truths. (I do it catechism-style, Q&A.)
Firstly, What is the first defense against communists? The first defense against communists is books—communists hate books.
Secondly, Who do guns protect us from? Guns protect us from communists.
In the same vein, it seems now is as good of time as ever to share another national security proverb my young progeny get to repeat, “The Democrats are not the fifth column.”
Museum Quality TDS, South Park Quality Indoctrination, and Food—My Trip to Rushmore and Crazy Horse
Anyone who has ever visited a custom framing store knows that the easiest upsell in the universe is museum quality glass. For the uninitiated, the glass companies, or whoever, provide this shadow box which holds an item—usually a yellow tassel—behind what appears to be one half of a pane of glass. That’s the gimmick. It appears like there is no glass on one half. But there is. And now you’re hooked. How could you ever cover any framed object with a dirty window?
Naturally, this museum quality glass gets its name from its use in museums—these carefully curated places of unfiltered history. Or at least that’s how I think of museums. Sure, there are going to be words of explanation besides the clear-glass-encased pieces and sure these words will naturally be written with an agenda of some sort. But the objects behind the unseen glass are the real communicators.
Luckily for us, this is still the case with Mt Rushmore. You see, I just took the kids to visit it—A- had learned about it in kindergarten. And all I can say is I am happy to report the museum piece was worth it. Because the description was sorely lacking.
The video presentation, which spent a lot of time on the importance of the right type of rock for such a project, had a line, “Years later, the artist (I can’t recall his name) was asked if there was enough room for another face and he said, ‘No’.”
TDS has infected a national memorial. Firstly, if Trump wants his face on it, he will get it done—and in gold. Secondly, the Left is somehow afraid of this man. What has he done to them besides disagree and name call? It’s incredible to witness their fear.
Oh, and did you know women and minorities helped create Mt Rushmore?
It is impossible—literally you can see both from the road—to not want to go to check out the Johnny-come-lately Indians’ effort while in the Rushmore area. Of course, I mean Crazy Horse.
Unfortunately, for anyone who has ever seen South Park, the experience is uneasy. Rushmore charges $10 to park. And the entire site is built to last—lots of stone and whatever that fake but permanent wood is called that decks can be built out of. Bathrooms are great. Viewing area is great. The whole experience is great.
But the Crazy Horse experience is embarrassing. They have a fee schedule—to include $10(!) to walk up. And a car load is $35. The entire monument (which will be epic at a LOTR level if they ever get smart and finish it) is very far away. Everything about the place is VHS in a world of 4K streaming—and I mean the kind of chasm involved in visiting your distant relatives whose TV/VCR combo unit isn’t flat, let alone do they have two bathrooms.
We watched a video (as recommended) to continue the post-parking lot experience which began with actually handing a just-received physical ticket to a gatekeeper. The movie was informative, and it contained the key flaw to the concept: the belief in adherence to unduly stubborn principles.
Again, back at Rushmore we were informed us that the artist and his son barely touched the mountain—instead they directed the many workers.
Crazy Horse’s artist was the sole worker, at least to start. And from Rushmore’s crew.
Rushmore took 14 years.
Crazy horse is 78 and no horse in sight.
I understand TTP (Trust the Process) and am living proof that it is true. Also, I cannot stress enough how cool the final monument will be. I am also totally fine with the tragic concept behind the project, that of an Indian pointing to where his home was—even though it necessarily carries the false idea that losers were participants in an unfair fight.
Back to the visit, we next perused what there was to peruse and noticed that in only 8 minutes there would be a proper drum and dance performance.
We took our seats and proceeded to listen to a real (looking) lady Indian dressed in real (looking) Indian gear lecture us for 50 minutes of an hour, on how the 600 tribes of Indians were living in perfect harmony, how they forecast Einstein’s E=mc2, and how the word “Sioux” means “snake”.
It was a family affair, we learned. So her 10 year old daughter came out and sang a short Indian song. And then her 19 year old daughter came out and danced two dances, accompanied by iPhone drums (probably not AI song) over loudspeakers, in a dress strung with hundreds of bell-looking things that sounded like kazoos jingling.
I need to emphasize here: I understand totally the concept of “talk before eat”. It is impossible to serve free food and then ask people to stay for a free lecture. Main attractions have to come last, I get it. But the lecture was 5/6ths of the allocated time and rife with inaccuracies—she even pointed out the brains of buffaloes were used to oil the hides.
(See Wilder’s settler’s written description of “butchering day” for context.)
Anyhow, after driving away, and while tearing down our campsite the next morning (have I mentioned I am an Eagle Scout and quite literally one of the Last Boy Scouts?), it hit me. These people need to, firstly, tell the truth about how tragic and brutal life was before civilization approached and conquered. Secondly, after starting with the depressing, they need to regain some face and their only way to do that is to highlight proudly (and most welcomed-ly) all the ways the Indian ways influenced and sustains the dominant civilization—like, say, Indian Guides, Boy Scouts, chief, army helicopter titles (blackhawk, kiowa etc).
Lastly, the food at Rushmore is exactly what I imagined food in communist countries is like—terrible. But guess what?! The entire restaurant facility is award winning in its “green”-ness. I mean, consider this. The restaurant which serves terrible food (except the ice cream of course) is award winning: “Feel good about how the preparation and housing of the terrible, and overpriced, food adheres to irrelevant, purpose-less government guidelines.”
This brings me to my concluding advice: the food at Crazy Horse smelled really good—even to a full stomach. So don’t let any of my criticism deter you from seeing both monuments. But skip Rushmore’s restaurant and donate your money to the Crazy Horse food crowd instead of the commies.
Finally, two illustrative pics.
A Case Study in Context Clues
My friend thinks I am an asshole for insisting that I gave him all the context he needed to understand this snippet.
Accompanying that image, I sent him:
His response:
It’s all there, I assure you. But let’s break it down.
Nobody says “negro” anymore. My adding this was to more assuredly call attention to the time period, geography, and mood of the snippet.
Montgomery and Negroes and 1956 all call to mind Civil Rights time period and events—and to, say, a person who fancies himself a historian—the bus boycott.
On “her employer”: The established time and place makes it near certain that the employer isn’t a negro and the her is. It is also fine at this point to run with the assumption that the employer is a man.
On “tells her”: This Employer-Boss Man-Mister-Master is telling her-negro-woman something to correct her behavior.
On “Everybody is saying”: classic (and classically faulty) passive and indirect approach to admonition.
On “Communists refuse to ride the bus”: here we have confirmation of bus boycott and Alabama. The use of the C-word in the 50s is meant to be so repulsive that any self-respecting Negro would never group themselves by action with the commies.
On “I know you got them told, Miss Lucy”: We have both (a) confirmation that employee is Negro Woman through “got them told” (read: I know you corrected everybody holding this errant belief) and (b) we found out we were wrong on sex of employer. Miss Lucy clearly indicates a woman. And on the whole, we appreciate the setup for the punchline that the Negro Woman just delivered. Compelling stuff.
On “‘Cause you wouldn’t let no communist raise your six chillun”: This is both (a) more confirmation that a Negro Woman is the her, adding specifics of job requirements, and (b) the punchline. The punchline is that the white employer lady—white employer ladies are supposed to be smart—turns out to be a rather grave hypocrite when the plain facts are recounted. This is because a refusing-bus-Negro-servant, whom everybody thinks must needs be communist, cannot possibly be communist, because if she was a commie, then it would mean employer-white-lady-boss would be raising communist children. An thar aint no way in hayell Klan members is commies.
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As usual, “What is right is not always popular; what is popular is not always right.” Or as Mark Twain puts it, “Whenever you find yourself on the side of the majority, it is time to pause and reconsider.”
So I say again, “Yay truth!”
The Contest is Not Certain
When I moved to Minnesota I immediately noticed the Somalis. If you’re unaware, they are in many towns up there, not just the Twin Cities—small and large.
The most obvious thought I had—being a geographically and climate-varieties informed American—was, “Why the eff are they staying in the cold?”
I would see them, men especially, wearing one thin layer of buffalo plaid pj pants, holding their parka tightly with ungloved hands when the wind was blowing around below zero chills.
“What is wrong with this moron?” I would constantly think.
Don’t misunderstand me. This had nothing to do with that part of the body between the brain and the wind. I thought the same thing about any poorly dressed soul. It’s just that typical Minnesotans, if they know anything, know how to put on a coat. So the Somalis stood out.
For the life of me, I couldn’t think of any industry or job that these Somalis worked in that wasn’t in every other state in the Union.
The God’s honest truth is that I just shook my head and reckoned, “Well, I have heard of Chinatown(s). So I guess a feature of American life is that some country’s immigrants just arrive and stay close.” I had never experienced the desire to stay with “my people” beyond the concept that moving out of America has never been a consideration. America is mine. So I will move around it as I please or where the wind blows me.
Just the same, I still thought they were dumb for staying in the cold. Like even my Midwestern-grown self had no idea how different the weather really is in latitudes north of Nebraska. But I also wasn’t from latitudes north of Nebraska. These people, the underdressed Somalis, were from the desert. They had actual experience in a different, surely more pleasant climate. Why didn’t they drive south? The St. Louis airport has the same work available that MSP does. Why not just move down to the Midwest and start the life there? Or, hell, why not just keep going and end up in Dellis. Or Tampa?
I thought and I thought and I thought. I just couldn’t figure it out. Why did they stay?
Reading Log 12.18.2025
It’s been since September 20th that I posted an updated reading log. These six make it seem like I barely made time for my hobby. I can’t explain it, but except for last hitch, I have been reading as normal.
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George MacDonald is just fantastic. And any book that includes dialect spelling is fantastic. So be sure to check out his Heather and Snow.
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The Aristotle Nichomachean Ethics section was exceedingly worthy. Most importantly, the name (Nichomachean) derives either from Aristotle’s father or son. I say Aristotle wrote down what his father taught him. Be that as it may, the lucidity of the ethics are remarkable. Here’s one example for ya. You know how we always hear the BIPOC and BIPOC-infatuated leaders talking about “equity” these days? They throw out some idea like “equity, not equality”, right? Then they proceed to explain the most unequal thing in the most confusing way, right?
Well Aristotle (or his dad) used the word equity in the following way. He said there is the universal law, say, “Do not steal.” Then there is the nuances of the law, to include all the particulars, like, stealing a lot is obviously different than stealing a little. Aristotle (or his dad) uses the word equity to describe the nuanced consequences of the application of the law. In other words, the difference between going to jail and simply giving the stolen good back to the owner was equity. My example is correct in principle, not particulars. No matter how fine the law cuts it, there is gray in between—this is equity to Aristotle.
Here I don’t mean to applaud the idea of equity in Nichomachean Ethics, but to draw out for you that over two thousand years ago one man wrote clearly and it appears the best we can do today is worse.
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Does everyone understand that George Washington was British? Did you know that Mount Vernon was so-named because George’s older brother, Lawrence, served in the British Fleet under one Admiral Vernon whom he so loved that he named his property after him? Has everyone slept outside in the cold with savages nearby, allies mostly, but likely enemies too? As holy writ declares, “We are but dust,” compared to this great man. You could read and re-read Washington Irving’s biography and never be worse for it.
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I found this 600 page Justice League America collection of comics at the library. The series came out in the 97-98 time period. They were fun. Who doesn’t love the dynamic between Batman and Superman? And now I know more about Martian Manhunter too. The end of Justice League Snyder Cut always bothered me. But not anymore.
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How many times do I have to write about the moooslims? One more I guess. That’s what the Song of Roland is about. French Christian Knights vs saracens. I read the long epic poem, supposedly a first of its kind—its kind being nationalistic or patriotic poem—in two days. I go so deep when I read that I don’t recommend this to anyone similarly talented. I mean, for a day or two, I thought I saw everywhere the mooslims were invading our lands.
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What can I say about finishing the two volume Reporting Vietnam set? Couple things. First, the French had colonies in Vietnam before WW2. (Maybe earlier too.) But the point is that France took such a beating in WW2, geographically situated as they were, that the Allies decided to help them rebuild after the war. That is where America enters Vietnam—what is so wrong about helping French rebuild their colonies?
Second, during WW2, Ho Chi Minh gained power because he wanted all the foreigners out—Japan and France (later America etc). It will be forever debated if he was a communist at heart or just used communism as a timely tool.
Third, I used to think it cool to baldly state, “We lost Vietnam.” I remember even daring my helicopter instructor pilot who fought heroically in Vietnam to admit it, which he did unreservedly, probably for the millionth time to POS’s like me. I will never say this or allow someone else to say it ever again. The US did not lose Vietnam. The South Vietnamese lost. We fought, we left. We did not lose. Losing a war is terrible. Never lose a war. Anyone who says anything to me about America that sounds like they want it to lose a war now gets verbally reprimanded at the highest socially acceptable level. Every person alive should want their country to win any war it engages, at nearly any cost, rather than suffer loss. We did not lose Vietnam.
In addition to having the above new things to say about ‘Nam, I want to share two images that now adorn my house. First, this hangs in my garage.
My gentle wife took days to notice and when she did, she asked, “Isn’t that a bad word?” in reference to the kids growing up with it in view. What a great question. How would you answer her?
Secondly, this is now the backdrop to my beloved piano.
I teach the kids to repeat after me, clockwise from the top, right first, then left, “Nelson (Nelson), Robert (Robert), Miguel (Miguel), Ho (Ho), George (George), Ghandi (Ghandi).” And I ask you, what do these men have in common? Why would I, Eagle Scout, USAF Pilot, Baptist, and Thanksgiving-and-Christmas-working first responder have Ho Chi Minh on my wall, my mind, and my children’s minds?
Hint: the key to life on earth as an American is the Vietnam War. There’s a reason for the current confusion. And it has nothing to do with events of the day or what you consume daily; it has everything to do with what you have never read. Both the reason you have never read it (or been required to—nothing conspiracy theory here—just general shame and incompetent teachers) and the history you will discover upon reading it are relevant.
On Our National Foundation
It’s not quite the season for weather-induced late starts or snow-days, but it’s close. This morning I received the text alert that a power outage in the neighborhood resulted in the kids’ school deciding to run their delayed start schedule on the hope that power will be restored by then. Immediately my mind went to, “How do other parents deal with this?”
My life is such that either mom or dad is 100% available, entirely stay-at-home every single day of the kids’ lives. But from what I understand, this home scenario is more and more rare, if not the literal exception that proves the rule. So what are the other moms and dads doing when their entire day gets disrupted by a random power-outage? Are they taking PTO for a couple hours? Are they bringing their kids to work and then taking an early lunch to take them to school? Do families have plans with other families for these days, ie, drop the kids at some stay-at-homer’s house and this stay-at-home friend loads all the kids up at the appropriate time?
I have no idea.
But I do know that this is probably the strongest example of why being a stay-at-home mom (extreme cases it can be the dad) matters. The kids, the future-citizens of America, need to understand the concept of stability.
Civilizational stability, national stability, community stability is not intuitive like “water is wet” is intuitive. We humans need to witness the example of stability. It is entirely possible, see all the places of the planet that you couldn’t be paid to visit, for humans to never understand that there is a better way to live, that there is a stable way to live. Of course it involves rule of law, literacy, guns, and effort etc. But at its foundation, it involves stability. The stay-at-home mom provides this. And the exemplar experience is the completely thought-free way in which a late start or cancelled school day is handled.
Democrats Need A Hunger Strike
During these best and worst of times, I’ve been reading Life of George Washington by Washington Irving in Three Volumes, Vol. 1. I’m near the end, having just finished chapter XXXIV of XLII. Like any Gen X or older lay readers, I have most of the broad strokes down, but have been pleasantly surprised to learn more details about our nation’s founder and founding.
Of particular note in the last chapter were Washington’s new roles both within the American colonies and between the colonies and England. For example, in extant letters, we read that GW himself maintained the logic that there needn’t be more (second, third, fourth etc.) appeals for relief to the King, as “from our sovereign there can be but one appeal.” (Plain meaning: one monarchical rejection means war, assuming there exists the will to achieve the appeal’s purpose.)
Moreover, I found the following description of the colonists resolve concerning their boycott of British goods rather provocative, “The rich were growing poor, and the poor were without employ; yet the spirit of the people was unbroken.” Actually making sacrifices to achieve political ends seems confined to some romantic past, no?
Always a fan of the underdog (I truly believe people should declare what they want and work to obtain it), I can’t help but see in this observation of sacrifice a path forward for Democrats. The “given” of what I am here proposing is that Democrats are city-folk, and MAGA is rural. (Or at least that is what the map shows.) Furthermore, rural means food-producers, and city means food-consumers.
Do Democrats truly want to make a dent against MAGA as social meeja would have us believe? Then I say Democrats need a hunger strike. Bring rural MAGA and their orange-Jesus savior to their knees! Make MAGA’s grain silos reek with the odor of unwanted produce! Wrap MAGA in the stench that guns and bibles cannot release! Democrats, now is your time! The path is proven! The choice is clear! Hunger Strike! Hunger Strike! Hunger Strike!
I Propose A Guessing Game
Read the following paragraph from a news article and guess the year.
I offer that the first and major clue is the last line, “…got into the papers.”
This puts us back before the internet. So pre-90s.
I’m not from New York. I have only visited once. There may be names that a New Yorker would know are old and therefore help date the event. But I don’t know them.
The idea that people are fighting about the elevation of a flag is immemorial, so that doesn’t help. But add “American” to the kind of flag and obviously we’re post-1776.
A quick review of steel’s development indicates post-1856 and Bessemer Process.
“Medical students” as a phrase immediately calls to mind post-WW2, so post-1945.
This means, if you guessed anywhere between 1945-1990, I’d say you “won” my game. Congratulations!
Of course, the true winners of the true game are those who can withstand the “hype” to which the news cycle demands undying attention.
The real date is 1970. That means for 65 years we have recorded evidence that some Americans want to lower the flag and others want to raise it back up. Or, 65 years of “Same $&@%, different day.” Or, 65 years of “Nothing to see here; move along.”
My Money on What Bongino “Saw”
I’m so tired of conspiracy theorists. Lunatics one and all. I can’t even listen for amusement anymore. Thanks for nothing, guys.
Want to know where my money is bet on Dan Bongino’s claim?
Bongino’s talent, if you ever listened to his podcast, is keeping an audience in suspense. It’s an impressive skill, but ultimately no different than selling nothing burgers.
Want to know what he “saw”?
He will soon report that what he saw was bureaucracy.
That’s it.
Captain’s Log 