The troll in the moat that guarded the castle

Once upon a time, there was a shining castle on a hill. It was conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that under the law all men are created equal.

Texts from the founders of the castle promised the people they could speak their mind, practice their religion and defend themselves and their belongings. The founders were revered for their wisdom, and in the castle were many monuments and statues to honor them.

The good people thrived, and more good people came. Like all people, they were flawed. But they were always striving for a more perfect union for themselves and their castle.

To fulfill their promise of equality under the law, over half a million castle dwellers died in a great civil war among themselves. Twice they sailed across the seas to save the world – once from fascists and once from socialists. They put men on the moon.

This castle was revered everywhere.

But the world descended into darkness, lies, confusion and evil. Fascists calling themselves anti-fascists looted and burned. Thieves stole property in the name of “social justice.” Monuments and statues of the castle founders were torn down. The texts promising freedom were “reinterpreted.”

Oppressors censored, intimidated, shouted down, assaulted and cancelled those who dared to oppose their rampage. It was a time of barbarism.

The barbarians were not the newcomers. No, the newcomers – the refugees, freedom-seekers and other people looking for a better life – cherished the castle.

Rather, the barbarians were the long-time residents. Unlike the newcomers, some of the long-time residents were privileged not to have witnessed the destruction wrought by barbarians elsewhere. They felt guilty that their castle was prosperous and free while much of the world was not. Others were lazy people who needed rulers because liberty was too much work. Some were just bitter losers at life. Some were violent sociopaths.

To protect themselves from these home-grown barbarians, the people reluctantly built a moat around the castle. Into the moat, they put a giant orange troll to keep out the looting, thieving and lying barbarians.

The troll’s weapons were usually just strong talk, a bad odor, an ugly appearance, a baleful glance and an offensive personality. He carefully cultivated all that and delighted in earning a deplorable reputation.

It was rumored that this rascally troll could breathe fire, which would account for his famous fatuous flatulence, but nobody had actually seen that. The fire, I mean.

It worked. Barbarians want free stuff, not a fight. They fled.

But the barbarian sympathizers in the castle protected by the troll were repulsed by him. “We’re better than that,” they swaggered. “The troll is hateful,” they said hatefully. “He’s colluding with the barbarians,” they argued even as they themselves egged on the barbarians.

They wished and therefore concluded, “Once inside our castle, the barbarians will become civilized. Let’s get rid of the troll, and welcome the barbarians.”

More and more castle dwellers joined in. “Defund the troll” became a fashionable chant among effete princes and coiffed princesses. Even the otherwise honorable Sir Mitt signaled his virtue with a vote to exile the troll.

The troll’s approval ratings in the castle dropped. There was talk of replacing him with an old, decrepit, hair-sniffing, favor-selling, addict-fathering gaffester with hair plugs and tooth caps who used to be simply stupid before he grew senile.

The troll didn’t fear any of this. He’d made a living by frightening barbarians, after all.

As for the castle quislings, the troll had often stood up to feel-gooders naively nurturing their guilt. He even taunted and mooned them from his stinky moat since he didn’t get invited to their Chardonnay parties.

But he felt unappreciated. He enjoyed scaring away barbarians as he frolicked in the mist but he also wanted a little love. Trolls are human too, in a misanthropic sort of way.

One grey night it happened. The mighty troll went away and ceased his fearless roar.

Many people of the castle celebrated. Others, however, wondered what the barbarians would do now that the troll was gone.

They soon learned. The very next night, the barbarians swam across the toll-free, troll-free moat. They slaughtered every man, woman and child in the castle and ate them. Then they tore down the walls and burned what remained.

To this day, barbarians live in the un-rebuilt castle ruins where they conduct periodic pogroms among themselves to cleanse the mob of whomever dares to question their latest lie.

The big orange troll? He lives in infamy. And in Troll Tower where he sadly watches the world burn from his penthouse apartment.

His head is bent in sorrow and a tear rolls down his crusty wrinkled face.  He’s always looked horrible, and still does, but he loved those people and that place.

The left is always destroyed by its lies

Karl Marx was a shallow-thinking loser who understood economics poorly and human nature worse.

But give the left credit. Some of Marx’s pragmatic successors such as Lenin, Stalin and Mao were amazingly successful for a while. They and their henchmen succeeded in killing 100 million people and fought a Cold War for the future of humanity that they almost won. Almost.

By the way, imagine the conundrum at the New York Times and such places. They’re tempted to blame Ronald Reagan for defeating communism, but they’re afraid that their few un-woke readers (they probably still have a few that are un-woke) would construe that as a compliment to Reagan.

In point of fact, Reagan deserves lots of credit but the person deserving nearly as much is Pope John Paul II. The former cardinal in Soviet-occupied Poland stood for the Judeo-Christian proposition that truth exists. That truth, he preached, would set you free. Continue reading

The Kountry is Korona Krazy

The virus apparently produces insanity, even in people who don’t catch it.

Here in Aspen, iron-fisted totalitarians that we used to call “petty government bureaucrats” sometimes but not always post signs commanding us to keep six feet apart when hiking through the forest.

On the other hand, patrons in Aspen restaurants are now permitted to eat without masks, even when seated together, which is good because it’s been hard to squeeze food through those little pores in the mask. On the other, other hand, a restaurant was cited for permitting patrons to walk to their table without a mask.

There are other arbitrary exceptions to the mask rules. Consider a trustafarian Aspen city council boy named Skippy (yes, that’s his real name). For a guy who’s never had a real job, Skippy is very busy. He’s organizing the protest thing in Aspen. Continue reading

A report from the big white suburban guilty girls picnic march

Urban trekking around Denver the other day, I happened across a protest march of maybe a thousand people. Here’s what I observed.

The marchers were almost all white. I saw fewer than a dozen black people and no Hispanics.

Most were young women looking vaguely guilt-ridden. They were well-dressed, well-groomed and well-fed. I’m not passing judgment, mind you, but just reporting the facts.

Some were in small groups of similar young women. Some were with boyfriends, who were neither well-groomed nor well-fed. They were scrawny and scruffy, if you ask me, with thin beards.

Not that there’s anything wrong with a guy with a body and beard that are thin and a girlfriend who’s not. Again, I’m just reporting the facts.

Most wore COVID masks. In virtue signaling, their march and their masks made the day a twofer.

Many carried signs displaying slogans like “Black Lives Matter” and “Justice for George.”

I agreed with those signs, at least the literal words of them. George deserves justice just as everyone does, and black lives matter just as all lives do.

The marchers surely aren’t worried that we onlookers reading those innocuous signs will don our MAGA hats, pull our 9 mm and shout: “No! Black lives do not matter! And no justice for George!”

So why were the marchers there? Continue reading

Failing in their three-year coup, the left riots

We all know the story. In the first chapter, they transformed the laugh line “I demand a recount” into actual demands for recounts. But the recounts didn’t materially change the vote totals.

Then they asked the Electoral College to defy the will of the people they represented. That, too, didn’t work.

The next chapter was the smear that Trump had colluded with the Russians. But the only collusion they could find in their two-year investigation was the Dems’ own payment of millions of dollars for a fake Russian “dossier” fantasizing that the president – a noted germophobe – engaged in pee-pee sex.

Meanwhile, the outgoing Dem administration used this dossier they knew was fake to get warrants to spy on the incoming Republican administration.

Trump’s approval ratings held steady.

Then there was Ukraine. Continue reading