Today should be a big day in the Toys for Totalitarians campaign. Not one more inch.
We have seven fish currently in the water, running true (if some of them a bit slow thanks to the postal turtle). If the post office box delivers up some more postage expense money, we'll fire the last four torpedoes today.
After that, we'll see how the totalitarians react. A friend (and resident of Maryland) wrote, "I think you stuck your head in the craw of the lion, sending what you did to O'Malley. . . Please watch yourself."
Well, I can understand O'Malley might be a bit tiffed. It isn't often, I imagine, that somebody tells a man of such monumental ego and not inconsiderable power to "kiss me arse."
This is, however, the duty I signed up for when I laid out the principles of the Three Percent years ago. This seemingly "suicidal behavior" as one of my close friends called it, is nothing new. By way of explanation, I have been referring such concerned friends to these two posts from 2009: "Eat me! EAT! ME!" and Gambit: "Waco Jim" Cavanaugh and Gran Torino.
The Toys for Totalitarians campaign (thank you, David Codrea, for the apt moniker) is a gambit, designed to to both stake out in greater detail the doctrine of "Defy -- Resist -- Evade -- Smuggle" and to elicit a response from the domestic enemies of the Constitution. It is a gambit. And yes, I chose the United States Postal Service as a conduit for these "torpedoes" deliberately.
However these petty tyrants react, by the time the last four postal fish find their dictatorial targets it should be plain that -- regardless of politics, regardless of whatever friendly judgments they get from their black-robed partners in constitutional crime -- there is no unconstitutional law that they can pass and enforce that we cannot defy, resist, evade and smuggle in answer to it.
The letters and gifts are, from our point of view, certainly funny. But they also evince a deadly seriousness on our part. Not one more inch. NOT ONE MORE INCH.
Thank you for all your prayers and messages of support. A good friend sent me a wristband, upon which the Latin phrase "Deo Vindice" is engraved. I am wearing it now. When God decides he's done with me, He can call me home anytime. Until then I intend to stand. Given the success of my fight against cancer and other chronic disabilities these past two years, I believe that He is not done with me just yet. So I will stand. What the tyrant wannabes do about that is up to them. They must make their own calculations about whether or not the collection of my hide is worth the unintended costs to them. I will stand. Deo vindice.
Good on you for your campaign and I do wish you safe passage. On another note, the minute I read Waco Jim Cavanaugh's name in your post, I immediately settled into a quiet rage. The fact that that sub-human POS, is still breathing air, is an affront to fairness.
As Martin Luther so resolutely stated at the Diet of Worms: "...to go against conscience is neither right nor safe. Here I stand. I can do no other, so help me God. Amen."
You're in good company (except for his anti-judaism slant later in life).
Hey, nobody's perfect. :)
Gotta give you props for this gig. The giggles it has created is priceless. The thumb in the eye of the tyrant is comforting.
Personally, I would hope it tips their hand in a way that pulls the whole thing together so that we can get the party started. I would hate to see you as nothing but blog fodder.
Again, kudos for the action. I'll be staying tuned.
Old man slapping people in the face, over and over again...
The wisest thing they can do is ignore you, but how long can they do it without losing face?
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