I spent the day in America today.

The real America, a place where Americans live — where it is well nigh impossible to find a single person who hates America, who hates the Founding Fathers and who still call them Fathers, as they all in fact were, a place where there are American flags and references of one kind or another to guns and religion.

A place, in other words, which is definitely nowhere near the so-called “Clinton Archipelago” and is certainly not named New York City, Chicago, Los Angeles, Harvard, Yale, or Palo Alto.

A place, it might be noted, which was recently on the edge of the recent hurricane which, while not at the epicenter still received much noticeable damage. But, in this small town in actual America, in the restaurant where we had real, honest-to-God (and they — gasp — actually used that very phrase) American, of course, home cooking, neighbors were “visiting” with each other, as it is called in America, not networking, about damage to their homes and reassuring each other that all would be well. And, it will be — in America.

Not once did I hear a single one of these fine citizens grumble about the fact that “man-made warming” caused their losses and one got the distinct impression that if someone did, he would get very lonesome, very fast.

They simply don’t think in those terms — in America.

In the friendly, warm, welcoming restaurant where we had what must be the very personification of the phrase “down-home-country-cooking,” it would have been unthinkable for some “outsider” to come in and demand that someone leave because they were wearing clothes carrying the wrong message — like “God Bless America” or “America — Love it or Leave It”, or a message as outrageous as “Make America Great Again!” As a matter of fact, based on the size and build of some of the younger citizens I saw in that wonderful place, that kind of insulting, rude, and, dare I say it, uncivil behavior might happen once in that restaurant — but only once. And the types who tried to claw — literally — their way through the doors of the highest Court in our land would never, ever, ever come back for a second helping, of that I am sure.

And, along those lines, this was not a place for a certain former person in the higher atmospheres of the “leadership” of the FBI, as if Peter Strzok thought he could “just smell the Trump support” in that Virginia Wal-Mart, had he even been fortunate enough to get through the door of that restaurant, he might well have been knocked down by the support of, again, dare I say it, the purest perfume of Americanism either he or his fellow (?) FBI colleague, Ms. Page, have ever drawn through their olfactory senses. The citizens I saw today would teach Strzok and Page a whole new meaning of the phrase he used about the election of the President of the United States — “we’ll stop it” — one which might well have borne unpleasant memories for both of those swine.

In the America I visited today, the parking lots of the churches were full to overflowing and the towns were, for the most part, save the obvious scars left by the nightmare named Michael, lovely, well-tended, and quiet on a pretty Sunday afternoon.

This is the America in which My Lady and I were both raised and while I have read much lately about how America is finished — and even I have had those thoughts myself — what I saw today in the America I visited convinces me that the foundations our Forefathers built this great Nation on are simply driven too deep to be “fundamentally transformed” by Alinsky-ite Marxists wearing stupid hats and wailing at the sky like wounded animals.

So, if you’re getting a little, or a lot, down by the steady drumbeat of the San Francisco Democrats (look what they did to one of the most beautiful cities on the face of the earth) wearing their symbols of nuttiness like pussy hats, I have a little elixir which I hope will lift your spirits as they did mine this very day.

Spend a day in America! It’s a wonderful place!

It is one of those days which is so beautiful, clear as crystal, crisply cool, here in the far West of the Panhandle, the part which the Good Lord willed to be spared the ravages of the nightmare named Michael, that I thought I might note how grateful I am to Him for this gift he has granted us.
I was moved to note these feelings of the deepest kind of gratitude, the kind which is simply not capable of being captured by mere words, by reading a truly poignant column in my daily scan of news items, an undertaking which is almost always, shall we say, not exactly uplifting but overflowing with news which is the polar opposite of inspirational. This piece, by Salena Zito, is entitled “A 90-minute flight, 45 presidents, and an 8-year-old American boy” and, especially if you’re not having the kind of lovely afternoon with which we have been graced, please go read this wonderful and inspirational piece. Ms. Zito tells of meeting two uniquely, and true, Americans — one, the little boy of the title and another who does, indeed, qualify as one of the heroes of the story.
She sets the stage thus:
“Sometimes, you meet special people, people who have an impact not just on your day, but on your outlook in life. People who provide you a priceless gift by letting you see the world through their eyes, and thus showing you that everything is a little better than you thought it was before you met them.
Sometimes, those people are only eight years old.
The first thing you will learn about Jared Gyure when you meet him is that he likes U.S. presidents.
He has no problem sharing that affinity, which he did the moment he plopped himself down in seat 17E on an American Airlines flight from Charlotte to Pittsburgh, sitting next to his mom, with his dad and his 3-year-old brother, Jackson, in front of him. Two older brothers sit way up in the front of the plane.
They are all heading to Uniontown, Penn., for the funeral of the boys’ great-grandmother.”

Our young student of this particular aspect of American history then proceeds to demonstrate his remarkable knowledge of all, not just a few, of our Presidents, and is awestruck when Ms. Zito tells him she has actually interviewed several Presidents, including the present occupant of that office.
Which brings us to the second hero of this flight to Uniontown, PA:

“For someone who rarely flies, I find myself for once enjoying the opportunity to meet someone so inspiring and inquisitive on a plane all packaged into one small compact boy.
Jared receives a lot of smiles as the passengers exit the plane. Our boisterous conversation has touched more than one person traveling from North Carolina to Pennsylvania, including an African-American young man dressed in a deep-blue dress sweatshirt and pants with the traditional gold Navy emblem across the front.
He pulls out his white navy sailor’s cap and asks Jared’s mom, Adrienne, if he could give it to the precocious boy, who probably taught everyone on the plane a few things about U.S. presidents — most importantly, a deep respect for the office outside of politics.
Jared is stunned as the sailor hands him the hat. He pauses to take a photo with him, then walks away with a broad smile, without giving his name.
It’s a reminder that sometimes lightning strikes twice in one day, when you meet two special people who make an impact not just on your day, but on your outlook in life.
Jared likely made such an impact in so many ways Wednesday evening on a plane over the middle of the country to a lot more people than he’ll ever know.”

That lovely vignette just filled my heart with gladness and as I sat outside in this glorious weather, and thought about Jared and his brand new friend, one of those brave defenders of all we hold dear in this, the greatest Nation ever created by Man in history, I reflected on how immersed we all are in the “unlovely” news of the day. I probably should amend that statement as even I am not presumptuous enough to speak for “all”, but I know that I must plead guilty to spending far too much of my time on the “unlovely” and not near enough time learning about the Jareds of the world, and of the kinds of men like the “other hero” in the story, a proud member of the United States Navy, who gave a little boy the gift of a lifetime!

Perhaps some day we will come to see Justice Kavanaugh as the closest thing we have in modern times to the abjectly miserable Winston Smith in Orwell’s dystopian novel 1984, who suffered unspeakable forms of torture in “Room 101”, the worst torture chamber of all in Oceania.
Perhaps, in fact, that day is here, as the final day of the Senate Judiciary Committee hearings brought us to a new low of ruthless cruelty in an attempt to destroy a man and his family. I would posit that this kind of barbarity and savagery is just one baby step away from the “creative” methods of torture administered to Winston Smith and any of his fellow Oceanians who ran afoul of the dreaded “Thought Police”.
And, what was in Room 101? As O’Brien told Winston as he was being led to the room of so many nightmares on Oceania:
“ “You asked me once,’ said O’Brien, ‘what was in Room 101. I told you that you knew the answer already. Everyone knows it. The thing that is in Room 101 is the worst thing in the world.’
“ ‘The worst thing in the world’ said O’Brien, ‘varies from individual to individual. It may be burial alive, or death by fire, or by drowning, or by impalement, or fifty other deaths.’
“ ‘In your case’, said O’Brien, ‘the worst thing in the world happens to be rats.’ “
In the novel, recalling an earlier incident when Winston and his (forbidden) paramour were intruded upon by a large rat, surveilled by the “Thought Police” through the all knowing telescreens installed everywhere in the country, the “worst thing in the world” to Winston was a rat. O’Brien goes on to explain the nature of the horrific torture he has planned for Winston, involving an imaginative device which fits onto Winston’s face containing very large, and very hungry, brown rats. The thing, a cage with several chambers which can be opened in sequence allowing the rats to get closer and closer to the face of the “enemy of the State” until he or she either dies of shock or tells the Thought Police what they want to hear. O’Brien describes their demonic reasoning in this passage:
“ ‘ By itself,’ he said, ‘pain is not always enough. There are occasions when a human being will stand out against pain, even to the point of death. But for everyone there is something unendurable—something that cannot be contemplated. … It is the same with the rats. For you, they are unendurable. They are a form of pressure that you cannot withstand, even if you wish to. You will do what is required of you.’ “
For those of you who followed this National disgrace as we did, you will know where this is going, because what would be the worst thing in the world for a man like Judge Kavanaugh, a man whose life’s record of accomplishment is simply, there is no other word for it, legendary in the annals of law and jurisprudence? While none of us can claim to know the answer to that question, we may reasonably surmise an answer based upon the intensity and emotion of his responses at the now-iconic speech he gave in answer to the gutter slanders of the despicable creatures on the Democrat side of the committee.
The “worst thing in the world” for this devoted and loving husband of Ashley and father of Margaret and Liza, son of his Mom and Dad, brilliant student and lawyer and closest assistant to a President of the United States, a Judge whose 312 opinions are masterpieces of legal erudition—would be for his honor and integrity to be besmirched before the world—but so much more importantly to this fine man—before his wife and little girls and Mom and Dad.
And so it was in our modern version of Room 101, which contained “the worst thing in the world” for The Honorable Brett Kavanaugh.
And, don’t believe the remnants from Oceania such as Spartacus and the blandly sinister Feinstein and Stolen Valor Blumenthal and their fellow brown rats didn’t know exactly what the “worst thing in the world” was for this truly Honorable man.
To those who may feel I have become just a tad overwrought about this: I have in my family beautiful little girls I absolutely adore, I have a wife who has been my life partner for almost half a century without whom I cannot envision life, I had a Mom and Dad I revered and I have been blessed with some of the most amazing friends, far and wide, anyone could hope to have. I simply cannot imagine what a man of such towering quality must have gone through while having his obviously adoring wife and precious little girls hearing this steady stream of raw sewage being poured all over their Dad and Husband by bottom feeding vermin like those who mounted this dreadful lynching.
Room 101?
Yes!
Complete with a pack of avariciously hungry rats.

The entire political structure of America, or at least what purports to occupy that role, has turned itself into a pretzel, trying to display every imaginable form of accommodation, civility, good manners, courtesies to the Nth Degree, so that one woman will be, in the words of Sen. Chuck Grassley, “comfortable” in giving her testimony. We continue to hear speeches about the  “fairness” which should be extended this one person, who, to be way more blunt than most analysts have been, is spinning a tale right out of Alice in Wonderland, shot full of holes and inconsistencies, with no corroborating witnesses whatsoever, and whose status has been elevated to that of some kind of second “Anita Hill”-type heroine, as she and her apparently exorbitantly well paid cadre of lawyers, PR agents, IT experts who must have been retained to scrub every jot and tittle of anything even remotely embarrassing on her social media. As there have been barrels of ink spilled — or is the modern appellation “barrels of bytes”?– over this most tawdry, slimy, sleazy, despicable, dirty, filthy, rotten smear in living memory, many, on the right, at least, by minds which operate at a level so far above mine I stand in awe of their intellectualism and make no pretense of even trying to occupy their place in the stratosphere of true intellect.

I will, however, in much more simple words than those which have carried such lofty ideas about this entire sorry –nay, tragic– episode in the history of our Republic, and it is something which has been eating at me for many days now, and it is this: do we not owe a duty of fairness to many other women whose lives will be horribly impacted by this nightmare? I speak, first of all, obviously, about the women in Judge Kavanaugh’s personal life– his wife, daughters and Mother. How about the girls he coaches on his daughter’s basketball team? Do they count in the  “Great Fairness Game” we are all instructed we now have to play on behalf of ONE woman? What about the 65 women, friends, former law clerks, colleagues, etc., along the way? How is we do not owe these women at least some small sliver of the fairness we are told we owe to this ONE woman? Do they, and their sensitivities, count for nothing when weighed in the balance of the apparently cosmic importance of the “fairness” we should accord this one person who we are supposed to view as some sort of New American Heroine?

Where does this madness — and make no mistake, this is sheer, unadorned madness at work here — end, when we turn all our worlds upside down for this ONE person, whose account, as so aptly described by one of the most eminent observers of this imbroglio, Andrew McCarthy, a former federal prosecutor, would not be given the time of day by any law enforcement agency, municipal, local, State or Federal, in the country?

And, if it is not too terribly hurtful to note this one really amazing fact, who, despite all the entreaties for her “comfort” and “sensitivity” to all the “hurt” which would be inflicted upon her in this “re-victimization process” , is not, through her phenomenally well paid lawyers, demanding that her appearance should take place on a day other than that set by the Judiciary Committee of the United States Senate.

Is chutzpah another word for fairness?

Dr. Franklin is looking down, thinking — “I told them so. I warned them– if you can keep it.”

Seventeen years ago one world ended and another, different in every way, began. 3,000 Americans were slaughtered by Islamic radical animals whose religion, we were told over and over again, was one of peace and love. We have, since September 11, 2001, learned that those words were pure fiction, and that it is, in fact, to many, a religion of conquest, suppression, murder and torture. Please, Lord, don’t let that happen to our beloved Nation again. Please protect us from these mindless instruments of a hatred so deep and all encompassing as to pass all understanding. Amen

I have been alarmed at how ready many citizens have been to so quickly convict Roy Moore of the grievously serious crime of child molestation with scarcely a passing thought of any of the factors which would go into such a momentous decision –the right of confrontation of the witnesses, the right of cross-examination to test the veracity of their accounts, but, first and foremost, one of the most cherished of all our rights guaranteed to an American citizen, the presumption that one is innocent until proven guilty.

One story is illustrative of how far this has gone, and not only in the reliably-loony never-Trump far left mainstream media. In listening to one of my favorite podcasts recently, I heard a person I know to be a most intellectually gifted commentator of the center-right declare, with great certitude, that Judge Moore was a child molester, was also probably at least guilty of attempted rape, and that he had been banned from the mall in Gadsden, Alabama. The account of the first two offenses have been cast in great doubt by subsequent reporting and the manager of the mall during the relevant time period has told reporters that Judge Moore was never, to his knowledge, banned from the mall.

As one who spent many decades as an actual, working, practicing Trial Lawyer, a claim I still make with pride (admittedly, one among  a steadily decreasing number, sad to say) in order to assure that I distinguish myself from those of the TV-Billboard variety, it concerns me that we are truly witnessing, as the title of an excellent piece in The Federalist styles it, A Society Murdering Due Process, 

“The real story today is that emotional feeding frenzies in public discourse put us on a path that leads—unless something dramatic changes—to the end of due process. Due process and the rule of law are concepts fast becoming meaningless to Americans hypnotized by media.”

“As the mainstream media has told it for decades: there should be a presumption of guilt based on any accusation of sexual misconduct, whether a Moore character running for Senate or a hapless college kid  accused of rape or anybody else. Oh, and the media has the prerogative of controlling the narrative, picking and choosing who’s guilty.”

The author, Stella Morabito, then briefly reviews the sordid outbreak of lechery–and rank hypocrisy as a result of same– on the part of a number of far-left “notables”, with Al Franken leading the list most recently, and the truly pathetic calls for “justice” for Bill Clinton by such luminaries as Sen. Kirsten Gillebrand, who was campaigning with one and the same alleged rapist mere months ago.

That is followed by an excellent brief summary of the root causes of the collapse of our respect for Due Process, and, I would argue, also the Rule of Law:

“Whatever today’s circus means, it should serve as an object lesson that due process first dies in the public square. It’s only going to get worse unless people learn to focus more on the causes of our lethal disease (e.g., political correctness, agitprop, power-mongering, the practice of ritual defamation, etc.) than on the symptoms of certain media- and politico-selected diseased people.”

“If we could wrest our brains away from the sewer of social media, perhaps we could see that we’re living in the Twilight Zone. Trying to discern what is real from what is fake is a tall order in today’s media world, unless you’ve worked hard to cultivate a sense of discernment. Navigating the “news” is like taking a walk through a labyrinthine hall of smoke and mirrors.”

“This is why I think Moore’s case, as with all Gloria Allred-sponsored side shows and their unpredicted spawn, is really about the future of due process. Will it live or die? Will we be able to revive the true meaning of due process, i.e., the basic principle that people should be judged fairly on the basis of evidence? Or will we succumb to raw emotion and all of the thoughtless lynching that goes with it? Will the term “due process” simply end up as a garbage term that means whatever anybody wants it to mean?”

Then, she presents what may be the best short analysis I have seen of the gargantuan hypocrisy reflected in the double standard at play in the Al Franken-Roy Moore circus:

“A huge swath of Hollywood and the media have been dictating to us for decades that due process should not apply to hicks and unsophisticated moralists, as they’ve labelled Moore. If it applies at all, then it only applies to upstanding and enlightened citizens like Sen. Al Franken. Now we learn that Franken sexually harassed women, including newcaster Leeann Tweeden. He admits to the photographic evidence of doing so. But longtime media rules say he’s entitled to “due process,” or at least a sense of lenience and forgiveness.”

I have sent the following message to my Congressman and Senators about the Gestapo tactics of the Black Shirts and jackboots working for Mueller; I am sending this out to as many as I can think of with the request that, if this seems like something you would want your representative in the National Legislature to be interested in and to try to get them to actually do something about it (doing something by a Member of Congress! What a concept! Downright revolutionary!) feel free to use all or part of it, as you wish. A note of caution, however, is that in order to send it to Senators, you may have to remove all the hyperlinks due to their “privacy policy”. I am absolutely committed to spending as much time as needed to get someone’s attention on these Banana Republic goon squad intimidation tactics and plan to follow up with telephone calls and/or personal visits to their local offices if there is no response. I note I have a high confidence I will hear from our Congressman, Garrett Graves, as that has been my experience with him in the past; he is a very effective Representative. Not so with Cassidy. Don’t know about Kennedy as I have had no experience with him. The struggle continues as we are surrounded by goons in shoulder pads and loons with sticks and steel pipes and Black Shirts holding guns on wives in their negligees to be sure they don’t pull an AK-47 on them (!) (thanks to Mark Steyn’s commentary at steynonline.com) and every conceivable manner of Hate-America-First conduct imaginable. What happened to OUR America?

Gestapo in America?

In the pre-dawn hours of July 26, 2017 –two months ago as of tomorrow– investigators employed by Special Counsel Mueller picked the lock of the front door of the residence of Mr. and Mrs. Paul Manafort in a residential area of Northern Virginia, surprised them in their bedroom, one assumes while they were both still in their bedclothes, held guns on them and started a raid of their home and personal belongings which is reported to have lasted some 10 hours. As has been pointed out in some of the many articles on this outrage, in order to conduct a raid as extreme as this, it must have been necessary to convince a Federal Judge that there was “probable cause that a serious crime has been committed and that less intrusive and dramatic investigative means would be ineffective”, according to a former U.S. Attorney, Sen. Richard Blumenthal, quoted in the Washington Post. https://www.washingtonpost.com/politics/fbi-conducted-predawn-raid-of-former-trump-campaign-chairman-manaforts-home/2017/08/09/5879fa9c-7c45-11e7-9d08-b79f191668ed_story.html?utm_term=.d40c946b2517 and, according to the same source, such raids are generally reserved for “the most serious criminal investigations dealing with uncooperative or untrusted potential targets.” Considering that we are now two months from the Gestapo-like raid on the home of such a dangerous “criminal”, according to Andrew C. McCarthy, a former Federal prosecutor with vast experience in the Federal Criminal Law field:

“Besides scaring the bejesus out of him with the search warrant, prosecutors reportedly also told Manafort that they intend to indict him. Must mean they have a case, right? So, if Manafort is such a threat to obstruct justice that they needed to break into his home and grab the evidence before he could destroy it, then why hasn’t he been arrested yet? I mean, how could Mueller responsibly allow so dangerous a criminal to walk the streets?” http://www.nationalreview.com/article/451649/robert-mueller-special-counsel-investigation-manafort

Two months since this Police State exercise of raw, unbridled, unbound and unprincipled jackbooted power against a United States Citizen, and the totally out of control Mr. Mueller has yet (as of a few seconds ago on September 25, 2017, when I last checked the news sites) to announce publicly what “crimes” this dangerous “criminal” is even suspected of.

As the commentator Mark Steyn has indicated in an extensive video commentary at steynonline.com this incident, alone, is an outrage against all of America, but what is even more of an outrage is the fact that so little is heard of this Banana Republic exercise of police power in pursuit of what is really a coup-d’état against the current Administration.

Here are the titles (and links) of a few articles on this horrible reminder of what was going on in Nazi Germany in the late 1930’s, which I most respectfully urge you to read so you can get the full flavor of how fully this raid was violative of everything we cherish in the Bill of Rights and the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence:

“Gestapo in America? ‘It Couldn’t Happen Here’ “, http://www.ricochet.com

“Mueller Scorches The Earth”, http://www.nationalreview.com/article/451649/robert-mueller-special-counsel-investigation-manafort

“Mueller team under fire for ‘brass-knuckle’ tactics in bid to squeeze Manafort”, http://www.foxnews.com/politics/2017/09/22/mueller-team-under-fire-for-brass-knuckle-tactics-in-bid-to-squeeze-manafort.html

“Paul Manafort is in Legal Jeopardy”, http://www.nationalreview.com/article/451525/paul-manafort-legal-trouble-donald-trump-might-not-be-involved

I note I am sending this message to all of my representatives in Congress, with the following requests: that they stand on the floor of Congress and loudly rebuke this kind of Gestapo treatment of a United States Citizen which so brutally violates all rights and freedoms and liberties guaranteed to citizens by our Founding Documents; that, if they decline to do so, they inform me, and the rest of their constituents who are disgusted by this conduct, of their reasons for not doing so; that they acknowledge receipt of this message.

I await your advices, and remain

Sincerely,

James A. George