Goshawk Rants by the Hawk, Co-Editor

Goshawk has some things about which he wants to rant.  We started this on Townhall and decided to continue his series of rants as they come up, which is often by the way, here at home.

As I think about the condition and the situation our county is in,  I can’t help but wonder, will we survive as the Free Republic we’ve always known?

Hard fought and won so many years ago. Soon to be lost forever?

Will we succumb to this Marxist/Communist takeover, and become another Totalitarian government?

Why are people arguing so much over the Republican candidates?  Don’t people see the bigger picture here that our country cannot survive under Dictator Obama for 4 more years?  Are not one of those Republican candidates better than what we have now?  Can we actually survive one more year of Obama?

It’s hard for me to believe that there are still some people out there who do not believe  “We the People” are under attack by our own Government.  Well.. It’s NOT really “our” government anymore.

In fact I don’t recognize it any longer.  It has become nothing more than a Criminal Gangster  Enterprise and we are the victims.

Everything Obama and his administration is doing is designed to weaken and bring down the United States.

It may take an armed revolution to stop them and save our country!

This brings me to the question that started this writing.

For years we’ve all heard people cry out, “Yes! They will take up arms and fight to the death for their country!” 

Or regarding their guns and 2nd Amendment:  “Out of my cold dead hands will they take my guns!”

So I wonder, will people of today’s culture, really stand and fight a bloody revolution? I know I and many of my fellow Vets will.

But I really, really wonder about others who have been coddled and not known a hard day in their lives?  Will they fight or run?  Will they lie down and take it?  If their families are threatened will they hand over their guns?

What would you do if a whole Swat Team of cops and the Blue Helmets show up, surround your house one day, burst through your door and demand you hand over your firearms or your whole family will be shot dead?

What would you really do?

Or what if you are told your children will be taken away while you are whisked off by the cops, the military, whoever shows up and throws you into a detention center without a lawyer, a hearing, a trial, and you are left to live in no man’s land in some military prison for years without due process?  And nobody knows where you are or if you are alive?

Locked away, nobody knows where you are, even you don’t know where you are. You just know you have no rights to an attorney, a hearing, a trial, and can be held indefinitely.

What I the Hawk want to know is what would people really do?  Are we just hearing steam blowing off all the while some people will just give in and give up?  Or will we have the determination and be willing to share our honor, integrity, and give up our fortunes to fight to save the greatest country on this earth, America? 

The Constitution is the guide which I never will abandon. The time is near at hand which must determine whether Americans are to be free men or slaves.
George Washington

The Acorns Dilemma Chapter VIII

Red felt the slice of the knife go across his throat.  He choked and struggled to get out of the Muslim’s grip.  For an instant, Red thought, why bother to struggle, I have nothing left now except my dog.  No, he was a man; Red would not allow himself brought down.  Men are  strong,  do not show emotions, do not become weak, they fight no matter what.

At that moment he dropped to the ground out of the Muslim’s hands.  He laid on the ground in the inky dark not being able to see a thing, not the Muslim, not even him when he tried to look at his own body.

He felt his neck.  It was bleeding profusely, but he ripped part of his shirt, making it a long piece and tied it around his neck in the hopes of stopping the bleeding, or at least not seen with a slashed throat for when the lights rolled back on.

Red did not feel good at all.  His stomach churned like a cement mixer round and round. He laid over on his side and vomited.  He retched until he thought there could be nothing left in his stomach.  The smell of his own blood and vomit was making him feel so sick he could barely stay conscious.  He fought the overwhelming desire to lie down and sleep, take time to recover from the attack.  But, how could he?  Red knew if he were found by any other Muslim the job would be finished off.  He wondered what happened to that  Muslim who stopped when he did. His head was still in place with his neck slashed,  but not to the point that he was still bleeding. The bleeding dissipated and he could feel his shirt piece wet and cold around his neck.

Red pulled himself, using his hands to feel things, until he found a large object of some sort he could hide behind.  He laid there thinking now what to do.  In this dark he could not even see where he parked that banged up van.  He lost his direction.  Right now he was not even sure where he  parked and left the van.

He started to fall asleep. He could not keep himself awake longer. Exhaustion from everything he went through was catching up with him.  His mind drifted and he no longer felt a thing.

Red did not know how long he laid there, before the lights rolled back on.  He saw that not only was he not hidden but actually he was lying wide open on the side walk in front of a large dumpster.  He eyed his surroundings and saw no one.  He did spot the van parked not far from where he laid. He got up and struggled to the van like a drunken man.  Quickly he started the van to drive out of there when he caught sight of a Muslim lying dead on the sidewalk. Red could not know of course if this was the Muslim who attacked him or not. He wondered though why there was a Muslim dead. Who killed him?  Oh, well, Red didn’t have time to mull over that.

He kicked the speed up in the van wanting to get out of there like a rocket.  Now he realized on this side of town he had no idea where he was  and he had to get a map out.  He hoped there was one in the glove compartment. There was. Red saw he was about 30 miles away from his house.

As he studied the map, he hatched a plan to get the goat meat another way.  No more trips to the Muslim meat markets with rolling black outs.  He would steal them instead. Why he thought to himself was he even thinking about paying any attention to any laws.  Nobody he could think of was abiding by any laws. Oh sure, a certain amount of order took place under the black shirts bullying, but other than that there was nothing but anarchy now.

He drove home as quickly as he could.  He staggered into the house where the Mexicans were busy making themselves a snack.  They stared at him in disbelief.  One ran over to help him to the kitchen where they took off the bloody shirt rag on his neck to check it. The cut was not life threatening but did need stitching.  The Mexican told Red they would stitch the wound since they could not take him to the hospital and have him questioned over how this happened.

Red started to heave again. He could not endure one more thing that day.   But, the Mexicans busied themselves with the necessary things to stitch his neck.  Everything was there except an anesthesia.  They rolled up an old rag and stuffed it into Red’s mouth and told him to scream all he wanted if he needed to do so.  Red screamed at every stitch.  He felt embarrassed feeling like a child for not being able to bear the pain of the stitching.

It was over before he knew it and he had to lie down.  He no longer cared about being a strong, self-righteous, typical man.  After all he was only human, something men forget they are for the most part. Red was thinking what a stupid way to live one’s life pretending that nothing ever hurt you or bothered you, to never tell anyone how much you hurt, the pain you endured. He thought about how much smarter Dusty was than him.  She told you if something hurt her.  She did not allow it to fester inside and laugh it off only to end up relying on liquor or some other pain killing substance to shut it off.  Red wondered to himself just how stupid were we men?

He slept for a long time, waking up on Sunday morning with his plan. He found the Mexicans playing with Jeremy in the back yard. He felt instant gratitude for that. Poor Jeremy was so neglected lately.

He told the Mexicans about his plan to steal the goats that night. They agreed that was the best thing to do. He asked them how many goats or goat meat they needed for this barter. They told him it would be best to get 4 goats.

That night they drove the van out into the countryside for several hours far from any city or suburban areas and found a goat farm.  It was not hard to find one. They squeezed under the fence of a very large farm where the farm house was way back off the road from the pasture where the goats were. They quickly slit the throats of 4 goats, put them into plastic bags and hauled them off to the van, threw them in and took off.  They did their needed duty.  Now they had the supply  to get the bomb making equipment from the Muslims, the radical ones hiding out waiting to meet up with some Imam who would lead them into some sort of attack. No one cared what they were going to do.  Red and the Mexicans knew they would be long gone before that happened.

Since it was still dark and they had little time left, the Mexicans told Red they wanted to make the barter that night.  They told Red to stay in the van out of sight. They had it all worked out.  No reason for his involvement.  Red felt elated.  He could just sit there and rest while they made their deal, then get quickly home and more rest. Monday morning was soon coming and that meant the charade started all over again.

Before he knew it, the Mexicans were back to the van, tossing in several small packages. They decided it was best to hide them if some black shirt stopped them for some reason. They taped the packages to the bottom of the seats in the van and Red drove off back home into the night, somehow feeling a sense of terror and peace all at once. Terror over the attack and peace that his family’s deaths would be avenged.

As they approached the suburb where Red lived, he saw a road block up ahead with many police cars and lights flashing. He broke out into an immense sweat. The Mexicans begged him to stay calm. As Red pulled up the black shirts waved him down, Red’s heart pounded so hard he was sure the black shirt heard it.

The black shirt demanded to see his papers. Red pulled them out of the glove compartment.  The blacks  shirt demanded to know what Red was doing out at this time of night. Red said he took the Mexicans out to a restaurant a couple of towns over from here. The black shirt was skeptical. What restaurant he asked? One of the Mexicans jumped in and told the black shirt that Red took them to El Coyote’s a Mexican restaurant so they could get a chance to try the food there. But it was disgusting and awful, nothing a true Mexican would bother to eat. “By the way”, one of the Mexican’s asked, “Do you know of any good Mexican restaurants in the area?”  The black shirt looked at him with utter disgust and contempt, and said, “Get moving and get out-of-the-way and  back to your quarters where you belong”.  As they pulled away out of the roadblock each of them sighed in relief.

 

To be continued…………………

The Acorns Dilemma Chapter VII

Red watched as his bloody head rolled down the hallway into the Muslims old room.  Something sticky and wet was sticking to his face and there was no way to get rid of it since he had no hands. His head rolled into one of the prayer carpets and he began to feel smothered. His head was rolling but he was still alive. Is that what happens when someone cuts your head off?  Do you still live with your brain still functioning to some degree?  How horrible a thought!

He awoke with Jeremy licking his face, no blood, just dog slobber.  OMG, he had simply forgotten the dog and his need to do his outside duty.  Red pushed up like an old man and took Jeremy out to potty.

He watched as Jeremy did his duty but his mind was far from the dog. His mind was on his dead wife and child.  How could they kill them?  What gave them the right to kill his family and he fumed with rage.  He no longer was in love with Mr. No Blame because these policies had come from him.  He was angry with himself for being such a stupid person to believe “hope and change”.  Nobody asked what that meant. Now he knew and he was wild with rage.

He was crying when he first arrived at home, but now his thoughts turned to revenge. But how?  He wondered if the Mexicans would help him.  They seemed to know a lot more  than he did.

At 10:30pm sharp, he headed for the meat-packing company to pick the Mexicans up from their job as required.  He wanted no attention brought to him after the day’s events. He needed to pick them up at 11pm sharp. The Mexicans were waiting for him as they had gotten off 5 minutes early. They jumped into the broken down van and said nothing.  For a long time they drove in silence.  Red had the distinct impression the Mexicans were being respectful of his grief state. Who would have though that?

Red opened the subject that he went to the Department of Health and Human Services and found his wife and child were murdered.  One of the Mexicans shook his head.  “Meester Red,” the one Mexican said, “I could have told you that but you would not have believed me”.  We have seen it so many times as we work out of different homes and the same thing happens over again.”  The one who called him Gringo stated, “Have you never wondered why you see nobody in your neighborhood?”  Red thought sometime and realized he had not thought about it as his life was one of luxury and he did not care for his neighbors since a lot of them were conservatives whom he did not like.

Red asked the Mexicans if they knew if someone still did live in his neighborhood.  The Mexicans sadly shook their heads.  Red suddenly felt terribly threatened.  Red asked them what they do with persons like me.  The Mexicans told him his life was not in danger until their job at the meat-packing company finished. The black shirts lie to you. You will never get your house back. They will bulldoze your house down like the rest to make room for sustainable development. Red shook at the thought. What do I do Red wondered?

As if the Mexicans read his mind they told him about a bold plan they had hatched. They had seen too much destruction and saw their was no future in their living in America except for a few states who had seceded from the union, those being Texas, Louisiana, Missouri, Alabama, Georgia, Florida, Oklahoma, Arizona, Arkansas, Mississippi and some others were thinking of doing the same. These states had claimed the 10^th Amendment and were not allowing the federal government to force unlawful acts upon them. It was their only hope to make it to one of these states where they could be safe, but the how was the big question.  The military guarded these states with weapons.

But Red wanted revenge first. He wanted to blow up the Federal Government building that housed all the departments of whatever name they called them. The Mexicans agreed with him. So, they went back to his house and worked on how they would do this and get away with it. First they combed the house for any bugs and found none. The black shirts no doubt thought they were too stupid to bug them.

First they would have to come across with plastic explosives which the Mexicans told him there was no problem as many hiding Muslims had plenty of the stuff. Getting into the building and hiding the explosives would be more difficult. But, they had that figured too.

Red would walk into the building but with a nonchalant way and ask to speak to the Department of Workers whereby he could ask a few simple questions about how long he would have to transfer the Mexican workers to their jobs. Meanwhile, the Mexicans, since they blended in with all the other workers waiting for pick up they calmly walk into the building and sit with the other waiting illegals. Once they sat and nobody was paying them any attention, they would slip into the bathrooms and plant the explosives behind the toilet water holders. They would get cell phones from the Muslims since they had a plethora of them, no plans, no commitments, just terrorist phones which they liked to use.

Won’t they search you asked Red. No the Mexicans told him because the black shirts were so arrogant they had no thought that Mexicans had any brains or intellect.  Remember the Dept. of Justice and their gun running?  They thought we were stupid. Arrogance is the downfall of all fools.

First, the Mexican would have to sneak out during the dark hours to find the hiding Muslims and barter for the plastic explosives. What did Red have to barter? The Mexicans said food of any kind, mostly goat.  So Red would have to buy goat meat and be unseen or watched for buying goat.

The Mexicans told Red that they should wait a few nights so things looked normal as he took them back and forth to their jobs and no suspicions raised.  Red would look like he was doing his duty and all was well.

A week passed as Red took the Mexicans back and forth to their jobs. Nothing out of the ordinary occurred.  No one seemed to watch them except when Red picked them up which he had to do each night at a certain time.

After the week ended, the Mexicans volunteered to wander out in the dark and try to find a Muslim stronghold.  They found some not too far from Red’s house as they stunk. The Mexicans told them he needed plastic explosives and cell phones and he would bring them plenty of goat meat. The Muslims were suspicious at first but the thought of blowing up anything in America piqued their interest. Ah, could they later build a victory mosque?  Sure said the Mexicans do what you want.

Meanwhile, Red drove for hours trying to find goat meat. It was not easy as a lot of Muslim markets were shut down and lots burned to the ground. He finally found one in a neighborhood he was afraid to get out of his car. The streets were black as there was no lighting with the rolling blackouts and he spotted a closed store. He sneaked  up on the store and a knife was instantly put to his throat. He sputtered telling the attacker that he needed goat meat that he had come to love it since he housed Muslims in his house.

The attacker, who was a Muslim, did not believe him for one instance.

To be continued…………………..