Send in the (Young) Marines

There’s this group I want to plug that, if you live in Northern New Jersey, you’ve probably never heard of – the Young Marines.

The Young Marines is a youth education and service program for boys and girls, ages 8 through completion of high school. The group promotes the mental, moral, and physical development of its members and focuses on character building, leadership, and promoting a healthy, drug-free lifestyle.

The Young Marines is the focal point for the U.S. Marine Corps' youth Drug Demand Reduction efforts. In 1958, the first Young Marine Unit formed was in Waterbury, Conn., by members of the Brass City Detachment of the Marine Corps League for their sons to march in a community parade.

A year later, the Young Marines program was opened up to the general public. Within a year, they had grown to 300 members and 20 adult instructors. The Marine Corps officially chartered the program in 1965 and in 1974, was chartered as a subsidiary of the Marine Corps League. Membership was exteded to girls in 1975.

"Strengthening the lives of America's youth" is the Young Marines' Motto.

The Young Marines emphasize physical fitness, discipline, and moral leadership. They hold camp-outs the way the Boy Scouts do, teaching survival skills, but Young Marines also perform physical exercises and marching drills. Their manual on marching drills is quite impressive – marching band directors, take note.

The mission the Young Marines have set out for their youngsters is what’s most impressive though. That’s quite a task, battling drugs in our culture. Saying no to drugs requires all the discipline, loyalty, courage, and stamina of a Marine. It’s almost as daunting as taking a beach head on D-Day – and quite as dangerous. Seriously.

The manuals (there are three) stress education and resilience. Refusing drugs, the Young Marines tell their recruits, is somewhat like being on guard duty. If someone doesn’t give the password, you are not to talk to them or engage them or abandon your post.

Young Marines are educated not only about the various types of drugs, but how drug dealers inculcate the young into purchasing them. This is dangerous territory for the Young Marines, who are, after all, only kids. Adults who’ve tried to thwart drug dealers have gone to an early grave.

The Young Marine stress individual resilience and moral fortitude. They tell their members that they may find themselves alone, but that they shouldn’t fear to do the right thing. No drugs are worth the social accolades you’d receive for partaking in them.

Small wonder there are no Young Marine groups in the northern New Jersey area, nor on Long Island. The closest chapter is in White Plains, N.Y. There’s also a group far to the south, in Vineland, N.J. I had to hear about the Young Marines from someone in Kennebec Valley, Maine.

Many of the chapters are located in rural areas near military bases. Doubtless, many of these young recruits are from military families. There are no military bases in northern New Jersey, hence, no Young Marines. Considering how rampant drug use is in our urbanized state, we could use a few good Marines.

We have Boy Scouts, who are wonderful. They’re bravely fighting the cultural war. Go, Boy Scouts! But when it comes to drugs, send in the Young Marines!

The First Loan Shark

“Most things freeborn will submit to anything for a salary.” Jane Eyre.

I used to play the Mega Millions lottery on a regular basis. Not really being a gambler, I never put down very much money, just enough to keep the dream alive.

Imagine never having to go to work again. Not having to put up with the dogfight mentality of editorial meetings. Not having to take my life in my hands every day driving down Route 287. Not having to worry – will I have a job tomorrow? Will my boss decide I’m no longer a useful idiot?

It was worth the $5 a week I put down, though I never won more than that in a single prize in this blasted ponzi scheme. That wasn’t the point anyway. It was just the hope of it all. It was like a tension reliever.

Finally, I fell out of the habit and found better things to do with my money. But in working class communities, the luckless blue collar workers still take their chances, putting down considerably more money than I wasted, to someday have that opportunity to tell their boss what they can do with their job.

The working classes took a real gamble with President Obama. Beguiled by their unions and the class envy pumping media, they believed that the “rich” would have their come-uppance and that America would be transformed into a worker’s paradise.

For them, the economic crisis has been their pay-off, watching Wall Street fat cats like Bernie Madoff frog-marched off to jail and oil company executives cringing before the television cameras. Never mind that so many other jobs have gone down the tubes. Uncle Obama will take care of them. He promised. Soon, it’s going to be free lunches for everyone. Free government jobs. Free health care. Free everything. That is as far as their notion of freedom extends.

The odds of winning the Mega Millions Jackpot are 1 in 175,711,536. What are the odds that Uncle Obama is going to be that much different from Scrooge McDuck in the end?

To put these odds in perspective, in the US in 2008 there were 1.03 deaths per 100 million vehicle miles traveled. A person living one mile from a retailer selling Mega Millions tickets is 3.6 times as likely to die in an accident traveling to and from that store (2 miles) than winning the Mega Millions jackpot on a $1 play.

These people sneer at the “evil rich” as they’re forking over money they can’t spare to become the “evil rich” themselves. Of course, they claim that if they win big, they’ll benevolently share their winnings (that is, the remaining 50 percent, after Uncle Sam claims his share) with the large mass of poor and underprivileged.

Studies show that within a few years, most big jackpot winners lose all their money. They spend too lavishly. They’re sued by fortune seekers or ex-wives. They spend it on more gambling.

Uncle Obama makes that same claim of benevolence. If we’ll just go along with the Liberal ponzi scheme, he’ll redistribute all that wealth to the poor and unfortunate. He knows best how to spend it. Trust him.

But let’s think about this for a minute, particularly those great, unwashed masses. Suppose we have a N.J. Megamillions player, from here in northern New Jersey. He wins big and promises to bestow the money upon the poor.

Being a football fan, he proposes to give out the money at Giants Stadium. He’s standing there with the cash (and a considerable security force) and the people line up for their hand-out. Mr. Giants is just feeling so good about himself.

The people are polite and gracious. Then, a guy, with a tribe of scrawny kids in tow, approaches him. He’s wearing another team’s shirt – the Philadelphia Eagles, or some other Giants rival. Mr. Giants gives him the eyebrow. But he’s feeling benevolent and lets it go. He counts out the cash. At that moment, Mr. Eagles says something very unflattering about the Giants.

“Excuse me? Come again?” says Mr. Giants. He repeats the offense and throws in a few more. Mr. Giants is getting annoyed. He’s got the cash counted out. He just wants to give it to him and get rid of him. Besides, he feels sorry for the children. It’s not right to punish the kids on account of the parent.

Now the oldest boy pokes his head around. He’s wearing an Eagles shirt, too. He throws in an even more offensive, profane pronouncement of the Giants. What’s Mr. Giants to do? He’s promised to give away the money. He never said anything about fealty to the Giants, although being in the parking lot of Giants Stadium, it’s implied and rather obvious: if you want the money, you’d better tell Mr. Giants what he wants to hear.

That’s the problem with the U.S. Government giving away taxpayers money. How do we know Mr. Eagles can’t feed his own kids? Why is it our legal duty to do so, so that if we refuse, we’ll be sent to jail for our skepticism? It might make Mr. Giants feel good to give him the money, but there are invisible strings tied at both ends (after Mr. Eagles leaves, the following beggars redouble their efforts at humility).

Under a legal precedent, a binding obligation to be charitable, either Mr. Giants must risk a barrage of expletives against his beloved football team or Mr. Eagles must stifle his sentiments. A free market system and a partnership with charitable organizations free of legislative dictates and bureaucratic stringencies obviates the necessity of such servitude.

Free speech will not last long under the auspices of Uncle Sam, the paymaster. Those of us who have not been lucky enough to win the lottery and must go to work each day already know this to be true. Democracy stops at the door of our workplaces. On our employer’s dime and property, we have no right to free speech at all. We cannot discuss politics or religion. We cannot criticize the company (not that any of us would want to, unless we don’t care about our jobs!).

But the restriction of free speech pretty much ends at the end of the work day. The only requirement that follows us home is not to publicly criticize the company or the boss. A minor issue most of us pass off. For most of us, the last thing we want to do when we get home after a day’s work is think about the company or the boss anyway.

Now, though, Obama and the Liberals are proposing to replace not only our companies and bosses, but our doctors, our bankers, our insurance agents (government workers already serve as our children’s teachers), even our car salesmen.

Government workers are all-pervasive. They’re taking over every aspect of our lives. They intend to be our Bosses 24/7. What is that the working class doesn’t get about this? Are they still in Giants Stadium parking lot, slavering over the fistful of dollars Mr. Giants is doling out? He’ll take care of them? He’ll watch out for them? He’ll be their friend, as long as they demonstrate 100 percent loyalty?

Anyone who criticizes them will be escorted out of line by the goons, the same goons who shook down the hard-working people for the money he’s handing out. They may demonize the rich, but at least they provided the opportunity for respectable, productive jobs. Even if you don’t personally like the fact that the boss is rich, his factory is still producing a product and jobs. If you don’t like him, you can always go work for someone else.

If the First Loan Shark takes over and turns the United States into America, Inc., you won’t have that choice. There won’t be anyplace to go. We’re taking a huge gamble with our futures betting on Obama and the Liberals. Already, he’s collecting.

There’s still a chance to recoup our losses: this November, bet on Freedom instead. With freedom – even with the meanest, nastiest, cheapest, most exacting boss - you stand a better chance than with government in complete control of absolutely everything.

You can bet on it and take it to the bank.

Sign Yourselves Up

Last night, the band we play with was taking nominations for its board of directors. The rehearsal ended early so the band could deal with the politics. I was tired and wanted to go home, but the friend I came with felt it would be impolitic to leave early.

As he put his instrument away in the back of the room, the band’s secretary asked that anyone who wanted to run for a position stand up and introduce themselves. He went through the alphabet. My friend went back to his seat.

His music stand mate said to him, “When they come to the M’s, stand up.”

“Um. Okay,” my friend replied. I heard but was too far back in the room to intervene.

So when they came to the letter M, he stood up and introduced himself. Not knowing what it was all about, he didn’t know what to say. He looked to his stand mate, who motioned that he had done fine. Meanwhile, I was cracking up laughing. I tried to call to him, “Do you know that you just volunteered to run for office?!” He didn’t hear me, though.

The meeting continued and he still didn’t understand what was going on, even when they asked him to spell his name. I helped him out. At last, he came back to where his instrument case was.

“So,” I said, laughing, “you don’t figure you have enough to do, huh? You hadn’t enough of being an officer on the other band? You’re gonna give it another go?”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, blankly.

“Dude, you just volunteered to run for a position on this band. What I want to know is, how you’re going to explain this to your other half?”

“What?! I can’t run for an office! I’ll have to head them off at the pass before this gets out of hand!” He then hurried over to where the election committee was confabulating to explain to them that he just lived too far away to get involved.

When the Morristown Tea Party formed, I explained to them that there were three important words they needed to learn: location, location, location. New Jerseyans are like turtles; they don’t like to get too far from their shells.

They listened and are incredibly successful. Morristown is actually too far from my shell, although I poke my head into their meetings when I can. In truth, I’m a District 8 gal and I’ve been finding myself at the Tea Party meetings in Wayne.

Thanks to some underhanded conniving by national Tea Party operatives, they were discouraged from taking a local name. Due to the fact that they can’t get enough volunteers and that politics are so rough in District 8, they were also discouraged from holding outdoor rallies.

The people who are running this Tea Party are excellent people from Clifton, and the locality is problematic. That’s how close to home people feel. To people in Wayne and Pompton Lakes, Clifton is in the vicinity, but it’s a hike. It’s not “home” and they don’t really know the people running their party. People in the area don’t even realize there is a Tea Party for them.

Their meetings are terrific. They have wonderful, informed speakers and an educated, motivated base. But it’s not enough. We’re on the fringe of Congressional District 8, exactly where the Liberals want us. Wayne and Pompton Lakes were deliberately orphaned in the last gerrymandering session, divided from the people who think like us (the most notoriously rigged N.J. district is 13). The division roughly follows the outline of Passaic County, but these two central municipalities were gobbled up in the last remapping.

Well, if the Liberals want war, I’m game. I’ll do everything in my power to make them sorry they ever swallowed me. Redistrict my town, will you?

Because there’s a division between three districts – District 5, District 8 and District 11 – it’s hard for a Tea Party coalition to organize and mobilize. The national Tea Party operatives have exacerbated and exploited those divisions – north and south, east and west, Morris County, Bergen County, Passaic County. The nationals dismissed the Passaic County organizers, telling them they should just go join some other county’s Tea Party.

Yeah, well, the problem is those people in those Morris and Bergen counties aren’t being bled dry by two black-hole cities. No racial taunt intended. We’re talking here about the astronomical phenomenon where light goes in but doesn’t come out. With these cities, money goes in but it doesn’t come out again. Our money.

No taxpayers ever fit my portrait of the disenfranchised voters I described to the Morristown organizers better than the suburban Passaic County voter. At least the Conservatives in Bergen, Sussex, Morris (which all have Tea Parties) and upper Passaic counties –– are represented.

Not so in the middle of Passaic county. Not in Wayne and Pompton Lakes. (Poor old Hawthorn was forced into District 9). We get all the honor of paying the taxes to support those cities, the same as the up-county residents represented by Frelinghuysen and Garret, but without the representation. Register a complaint with Bill Pascrell? Surely, you jest.

Well, if we weren’t there, the Republicans wouldn’t stand any chance at all. The two main Democrat factions – minorities and the unions – are so heavily entrenched it would take a full lobotomy to un-brainwash them.

Getting our Conservative guy, Straten, elected is going to take some collaboration. We’re going to need the help of the other county residents. We need a Tea Party a rally, not just a closed door, members-only meeting. All the candidates running for office would benefit.

Morristown did it. They’re in a big county, and Morristown itself is Liberal. That didn’t stop the Morristown Tea Party from holding their rally there. They, too, have various representatives. The rallies weren’t about the elected officials, though. It was about waking up the Conservative voters to defend their turf and defend their country.

The Passaic County voters are hiding in their kitchens and their garages just the way the Morris County voters were, until they heard the tea party’s clarion call (I saw just such a couple at polling place – they were afraid to tell the clerk what their affiliation was. They didn’t want to declare as Republicans for fear the Republican candidate was no different than the Democrat).

Like the Morris County voters who balked at the notion of going to Newark, they’re not likely to go to Morristown. A few daring souls might, the way the state Tea Party group convinced some tea partiers to go to Trenton, which was fine. Except that the majority of voters stayed home or came to Morristown.

I’m pretty sure most Passaic County residents have no idea there’s such a thing as a Tea Party within their midst; it’s something they see on television, but that’s about it. Nor will they unless this Tea Party puts itself out in public, out in the open air where the residents won’t feel caged or trapped, like nervous pigeons being trolled for campaign cash.

There’s got to be something in it for them. The politicos running this tea party need to take a step back and let the civilian organizers handle this, and not try to thwart them – again. That “something” is the opportunity to make their voices heard, or at least listen to good, public speakers share their beliefs, to wave their home-made signs, and most importantly, be in the company of other average citizens like themselves who feel the way they do.

Morristown got it (after quite a bit of shouting on my part) and Passaic County could do the same thing, if it wanted to. Don’t think there aren’t Liberals trying to make inroads into Morris County. But someone has to step up to the plate. Someone has to volunteer to organize such an event. It can’t be done with only a handful of people.

If you’ve ever planned a kid’s birthday, a wedding, an anniversary or retirement or graduation party, you can do this. When the letter of your name is called, stand up.

The Road Ahead

“A government big enough to give you everything you want is big enough to take away everything you have.”  Pres. Gerald Ford

Tonight was just the beginning for the Tea Party candidates. Whether actual Tea Party candidates won, or whether stronger conservative Republican candidates head for the elect ions in November, we’ve got a lot of hard work to do.

It’s not just a matter of putting up strong candidates. That’s the easy part. Here in New Jersey, it’s convincing the voters – especially those in the weed wacking, beer binging, moderate younger generation who’ve swallowed the Liberal fairy tales – that America is in trouble and needs to get back on the Conservative track.

We have generations’ worth of damage control to do on the Conservative brand. The Liberals have been hacking away at it for years, painting people who care about freedom and free enterprise, not free lunches, as country club snobs sipping martinis as they read the Wall Street Journal and live off their trust funds. That kind of portrayal came as a surprise to my working class parents at the time, let me tell you.

Conservatives allowed themselves to be branded when they shouldn’t have and now all we have is a weak-willed generation that prides itself on its moderate stance. “Can’t we all just get along?” Liberal Lite. Someone needs to douse them with cold water and make them understand just what liars the Liberals are.

This is a pampered generation that has no concept of deprivation. So they fear it and will do anything to avoid it, even to surrendering all their freedoms to a nanny state government who scruples not to blame “robber barrons” for the problems the government caused.

As long as they feel good about themselves, who cares? Oh look, we’ve helped the poor, the underprivileged, the environment. Helped them to do what, exactly? About ten years ago, I participated in a community rejuvenation project. We planted a community garden.

As the volunteers worked and toiled, the residents stood on their steps, watching. Finally, one of the volunteers rather sarcastically invited the residents to help out. The residents refused. They said that it was a dangerous neighborhood and that the drug dealers were watching. Anyone caught “helping” – in their own neighborhood – could expect retribution after we left.

The local police, standing guard over us as escorts, confided to us that they expected by morning that all the greenery we had planted would be uprooted and resold on the black market.

One of the history lessons this generation failed to learn was that of the 19th century immigrants and of the Great Depression. The European immigrants came here with nothing. There was no Social Security back then to bolster them. They were expected to have a sponsor, a trade, and some command of the English language before they were allowed to enter the country.

These same poor immigrants found success in America through no other means than their own toil and perseverance. They formed communities, but even within those communities, help only extended so far, because everyone was in the same boat. Slackers would be thrown overboard.

That same work ethic doesn’t exist today. In its place is welfare and Social Security. Political correctness and social justice, maladies that are eating away at the fabric of our American culture and replacing it with a new tyranny, a new feudal system.

If someone doesn’t wake the Mod Generation out its drug-induced stupor, shake them out of their socialist dream, and teach them that freedom is a privilege, we’ll all be enslaved with them.

That means countering every blithering idiot socialist blogger, every newspaper editorial defending unions, multiculturalism, and the welfare state, every environmental fairy tale movie out of Hollywood.

We need to return to reality if we are to save America and in order to do that, we’re going to need some really loud alarm clocks. Rodney Frelinghuysen is headed for the general elections. Luzzi just didn’t have to war chest to challenge him.

A friend and I were discussing the matter. He voted for Frelinghuysen. He said the Congressman seems to have re-discovered his conservative roots. But for how long? The tendency towards moderation is still there. Now that he’s secure in his nomination, will he return to pandering to the Moderates?

They’ve got the bit in their teeth, the numbers, the “Power”. The fact that they’re enamored of that word speaks volumes. Nothing but disaster, hitting bottom is likely to awaken them to the damage they’ve done – and then they’ll simply follow Obama’s lead and conveniently blame the other party. They may just be too brainwashed to wake up.

So what the Tea Parties have done in the last year or so is stage an intervention. It’s literally the last stand. We’re teetering on the brink. The Liberals laugh in their sleeves at our menace of repealing Obamacare. It won’t happen as long as he’s in office and Moderates are swayed by Liberal rhetoric, marginalizing anyone who shows an ounce of spirit as angry and bigoted.

We may be screaming in the wind, though. Like the Linda Hamilton character in Terminator 2, we shake the prison bars and yell at the top of our lungs, but those we try to warn continue on their oblivious course. Frustrating and futile as it seems, we must persevere, though, and demonstrate to these blockheads, like the little children they are, the dangers of drinking the government Kool-Aid.

All the Propaganda That’s Fit to Print

Political endorsements. They put the lie to journalistic integrity. They rear their subjective heads at every primary and general election. Newspapers were once much more honest than they are today. As a body, they never pretended to be the defenders of the people’s trust and so forth. Among one another, as competitors, they vied for that claim. But no one took it seriously.

According to the website, The History of Newspapers:

America’s first newspaper, Public Occurrences, appeared in Boston in 1690. Published without authority, it was immediately suppressed, its publisher arrested, and all copies were destroyed. America's first continuously-published newspaper, the Boston News-Letter, published its first issue on April 24, 1704. In the early years of its publication, the News-Letter was filled mostly with news from London journals detailing the intrigues of English politics, and a variety of events concerning the European wars. Still, although it was heavily subsidized by the colonial government, the experiment was a near-failure, with very limited circulation.

Two more papers made their appearance in the 1720's, in Philadelphia and New York. By the eve of the Revolutionary War, some two dozen papers were issued at all the colonies, although Massachusetts, New York, and Pennsylvania were the centers of American printing. Articles in colonial papers were a major force that influenced public opinion in America.


Newspapers were the province of the wealthy, literate minority. The price of a year's subscription, usually over a full week's pay for a laborer, had to be paid in full and often in advance. At war's end in 1783 there were 43 newspapers. The press played a vital role in the affairs of the new nation; many more newspapers were started, representing all shades of political opinion. The no-holds barred style of early journalism, much of it libelous by modern standards, reflected the rough and tumble political life of the republic as rival factions jostled for power.


The ratification of the Bill of Rights in 1791 at last guaranteed freedom of the press, and America's newspapers began to take on a central role in national affairs. Growth continued in every state. By 1814, there were 346 newspapers. In the 1830's, advances in printing and papermaking technology led to an explosion of newspaper growth. The Penny Press arose; it was now possible to produce a newspaper that could be sold for just a cent a copy. This sudden availability of cheap reading material stimulated the achievement of the nearly universal literacy now taken for granted in America.

The industrial revolution dramatically affected newspapers. Both the numbers of papers and their paid circulations continued to rise. The 1850 census recorded 2,526 newspapers. In the 1850's powerful, giant presses appeared, able to print ten thousand complete papers per hour. At this time the first “pictorial” weekly newspapers emerged; featuring illustrations of events in the news, either from correspondents' sketches or taken from that new invention, the camera.


During the Civil War the unprecedented demand for timely, accurate news reporting brought about a new profession: reporting. Reporters, called “specials,” turned in accounts of battles, supplying a definitive history of the events they witnessed. Newspaper growth continued unabated in the postwar years. An astounding 11,314 different papers were recorded in the 1880 census.


By the 1890's the first circulation figures of a million copies per issue were recorded. New features of the modern newspaper included “banner” headlines, extensive use of illustrations, “funny pages,” plus expanded coverage of organized sporting events.


This was also the age of media consolidation, as many independent newspapers were swallowed up into powerful conglomerates, reducing them to vehicles for the distribution of the particular views of their owners, without competing papers to challenge their viewpoints. Although newspapers had always reflected the views of their publishers, now competitors could drive their adversaries out of business or swallow the rival paper up. By the 1910's, all the essential features of the recognizably modern newspaper had emerged.

Then, along came the automobile and radio.

Once such newspaper magnate was Frank Ernest Gannett. Born in South Bristol, N.Y., in 1876, at age 30, he purchased his first newspaper, the Elmira Gazette (now the Star-Gazette). Six years later, in 1912, he purchased the Ithaca Journal. In March 1918, he and his partners moved their headquarters to Rochester, N.Y., where they acquired the Evening Times, the Herald, and the Union and Advertiser and combined them as the Times-Union (the former evening paper of Rochester).

The Democrat and Chronicle is now Rochester's only daily newspaper and traces its roots back to 1833, to a paper called The Balance. Its name later changed to the Daily Democrat around 1840. That paper then merged with another local paper, The Chronicle in 1879, and was renamed the Democrat and Chronicle.

The paper was closely identified with the Whigs and then the Republican Party. That changed for a time as Gannett bought the paper as a morning alternative to his own Rochester Times-Union in 1928 and soon thereafter threw its support to FDR.

The editorial slant returned to the Republican point of view soon afterward and remained there until Gannett's death in 1957, at which time it moved to what they now claim was a “non-partisan” stance.

Meanwhile, the D&C’s afternoon counterpart, the Times-Union, was a widely circulated daily for 79 years, beginning publication in 1918, and ceased operations in 1997 when the paper merged with the Democrat and Chronicle, with which it had shared a staff since 1992.

Gannet was active in state politics, taking a neutral stand to the New Deal in 1936 before joining the opposition against President Franklin D. Roosevelt's court-packing scheme. He helped the Republicans retake control of Rochester's City Council a year later. In 1939–1940, he ran briefly for the 1940 Republican presidential nomination. He was a founding member of the National Committee to Uphold Constitutional Government.

It was for the Democrat and Chronicle that my father worked as a reporter just after World War II. We found it hard to believe our staunchly conservative father would deign to work for such a newspaper but our mother assured us that at the time, at least, it was Republican-oriented.

With such a family background in the newspaper industry, it’s such a laugh when any media puppet proclaims that they’re mainstream or objective. Oh, puh-leeze! The problem for the conservative public is that the Liberal newspapers – media outlets, in this day and age – are so numerous and well-aligned that it’s hard to convince an ignorant public that they’re not all on the same page.

Let’s take the example of President Obama’s birth certificate, just to be a nuisance. Say that one newspaper claims that he’s not a citizen of the United States. Well, it’s only one paper, after all. But if all the papers print that same declaration, then it must be true, right? They couldn’t all be lying. There must be something to it. Right?

A humorous example, but do you get the picture? The sheer numbers will carry the weight of their argument, even if it’s the most stupendous lie ever perpetrated, such as global warming. All a paper with counter evidence can do is keep pounding away at the American brain until the truth gets in.

Right now, the American public is skeptical of the conservative media. They’re that lone voice in the media wilderness. Rush Limbaugh, Glenn Beck, Michelle Malkin, Sean Hannity (some of my favorites) and of course, Fox News. Fox is one only network against a vast array of well-funded media outlets. A million Liberal newspapers can’t all be wrong, goes their specious argument.

The Liberal media considers the Conservative “stars” fair game, but no one bothers to take a look at the backgrounds of the “talent” on the Liberal side of the field, political hacks one and all. Speechwriters for politicians, propagandists.

Nor are the corporations for which they work public charities. They’re for-profit companies with a bottom line and shareholders they must satisfy. The Washington Post is my favorite. Warren Buffett is the chairman of the board of The Washington Post. Take a look at the boards of directors of some other big newspapers and media chains.

So when you read this morning’s paper to see who the editor of your favorite scandal sheet thinks you should vote for in the primaries (chances are, it's a Democrat), take their recommendation with a grain of salt.

If they advocate a candidate who wants to trade your freedom for their power, place the editorial page at the bottom of the birdcage, where it belongs.

Freedom of Choice

My mother called me up last week, asking me who she and my brothers should vote for in tomorrow’s primary. It’s a difficult choice for the Conservative voters in District 11.

I’ve met both Rodney Frelinghuysen (through work) and Richard Luzzi through my activities with the Tea Party. Mom drove Mr. Frelinghuysen years ago on a bus tour through Morris County when he was a member of the Board of Chosen Freeholders.

When someone asked my mother what group she was driving, she blurted out, “The Board of Frozen Cheeseholders!”

Mr. Frelinghuysen is a staunch supporter of the military. He’s been ired by criticism of his acceptance of TARP money, which largely went to Picatinny Arsenal and to other military projects. At a town hall meeting sponsored by my company for the benefit of employees in his district, he defended his acceptance of money with particular fire.

Had she seen it, my mother would have said he was standing on his hind feet. He’s a good, kind man and has served the public for a number of years. However, I wish I could say that at a town hall meeting last summer in Montville he had stood on his hind feet.

What I and other Tea Party members saw was a moderate caving in to the pressure of avowed Democrats. He said he welcomed dialog from all voters in his district and admitted to a long-time correspondence with a Democrat operative in the audience.

When conservative members of audience expressed their dismay, he stated that he had to listen to his constituents. No matter what they stood for.

Mr. Luzzi is not a long-time politician. He’s a businessman from Rockaway. He lives in Cape May, I believe, although apparently he’s since moved. He made long drives for the sake of the Tea Party. Mr. Luzzi had taken over the helm of the Morristown Tea Party in the Spring of 2009, when the group divided after its first rally.

One group wanted to take the path of political activism, the other, voter education. Mr. Luzzi was elected to lead the latter group. Ironically, now he’s running for office, while still the president of the Tea Party.

It gave me pause when trying to advise my mother what to do. But then I thought of the Morristown Tea Party’s rallies. Morristown depends upon the good graces of the board of trustees of the Morristown Green to hold its rallies there.

From the beginning, they wanted the Tea Party to maintain a neutral stance on politics, particularly in regard to immigration. The trustees were being pressured by a local, pro-immigration organization to hold the reins on the Morristown Tea Party.

We were forbidden to broach the subject of immigration. Mr. Luzzi, for his part, kept the bargain. There was plenty for the Tea Party to protest. But when he decided to run for office, apparently, he had an epiphany.

Not having time to attend all the meetings, I haven’t been privy to the MTP’s planning meetings (I could if I wanted to). To my surprise – and delight – when I attended this year’s Tax Day Tea Party on the Morristown Green, it was all about immigration. Anti-illegal immigration, with Luzzi leading the charge.

Anti illegal immigration was on the lips of nearly every speaker. Mr. Luzzi, instead of paying lip service to the voters, his potential constituents, paid lip service to the bureaucrats, and told the audience what they came to hear. He stood up for what they believed.

I believe a man who would do that has a fair chance of keeping his word if sent to Congress. So that’s what I told my mother.

As for me, I live in a different district. My town was absorbed into the Democrat machinery at their last redlining party. Thanks to the chain immigration that has made the cities in our county bastions of loyal, straight-line Democrat voters, we don’t stand a chance. They’ll vote a representative in who will gleefully pick our pockets and make certain that even more people who vote for their way are allowed into the country.

So much for freedom of choice. In poor Bergen County, freedom of choice was abandoned long ago, because Republicans couldn’t win against such numbers. They don’t even try. That’s what’s in store for my district, for District 11, for New Jersey and the rest of the country if we don’t stand up for freedom of choice.

D-Day Plus 66

“When in doubt, do something!” Gen. George S. Patton

They were so young, the heroes of Normandy. It’s been sixty-six years since that dawn on June 6th as they sat huddled in their LST’s, seasick, wet (the seas were rough that morning; the infantrymen had to use their helmets to bail the water out of the boats), scared, but brave, racing towards destiny. Most of them were mere boys.

Now the little boys of their time are old men and the little boys of our time scarcely know what D-Day was. If they’re taught the history of D-Day, they come to understand what courage is.   What words can ever suffice to describe their sacrifice, or honor them enough?  Trying to find the words to pay tribute to their valor is a daunting task, for our debt to them is as enormous as the cliffs they were compelled, against all odds, to climb and claim for liberty.

The infantrymen faced a 150-foot wall and murderous fire from the German batteries on the hills. As soon as the doors opened on the landing craft, the slaughter began. Artillery shells took some landing craft out directly. On other landing craft, the soldiers faced a hail of machine gun fire, with nowhere to go.

The landing on Omaha Beach was particularly brutal. It was the most heavily defended beach head, with the most difficult terrain, with bluffs, cliffs and German pillboxes waiting for the Allied troops. Just beyond the bluffs was the 352nd German infantry division.

Over 160,000 Allied troops landed along a 50-mile stretch of the Normandy coast. More than 5,000 ships and 13,000 aircraft supported the invasion, including 9 battleships, 23 cruisers, 104 destroyers, and 71 large landing craft of various descriptions as well as troop transports, mine sweepers, and merchantmen - in all, nearly 5,000 ships of every type, the largest armada ever assembled. Not since 1688 had any force attempted such a landing. No one had ever seen anything like it.

By the end of the day, the Allies gained a foothold in Normandy. More than 100,000 soldiers began the march to liberate Europe and defeat Hitler. But the cost was high: more than 9,000 Allied soldiers were killed or wounded, in that single day.

Gen. Dwight D. Eisenhower, in his address to the Allied expeditionary force, said they were about to embark upon a great crusade. He noted the task would not be an easy one, but that the tide had turned since the beginning of the war.

“The free men of the world are marching together to victory!”

Operation Overlord was many years in planning. The British were dubious, at least at first, of the success of such an assault. Gen. Eisenhower deployed America’s most respected general, George S. Patton, to lead a fictitious army division. The ruse worked.

We owe so much to those brave men who died on the beaches of Normandy. They not only liberated Europe and defeated a heinous regime but taught us to believe in freedom and fight with true courage, no matter the personal cost.

Let us hope we never forget their courage and sacrifice.