Quietly Say “No” to Joe Biden’s Call for Civil War
I’ve burned a lot of bridges in my life I didn’t intend to. To describe me as volatile and opinionated is a kindness.
On the best of days I’m barely fit for human consumption.
Looking back my life can best be described as a series of bad first impressions interrupted by moments of social competence.
This happens not because I don’t care about what people think or feel, but because I care too much. I see too much. And in my zeal, I put off people when all I want is for everyone else to see what I see.
It’s been a hard-fought lesson to learn that confrontation is not only a poor persuasion technique, it’s aggressively counter-productive.
I’m definitely still working on this.
At the same time, however, those that know me well know that when I’m confrontational, I’m engaged. I’m negotiating for a different outcome, albeit doing it badly. All my Italian flamboyance and bombast isn’t anger, it’s frustration.
In print it may be funny or inspiring but in person it’s simply scary and rude. I’ve mellowed with age, certainly. Thirty years of marriage to the greatest woman in the world will teach you a few things…
…even old dogs like me.
But there is always a limit in every negotiation. There is a moment when all the frustration melts away and becomes anger. Cold, hard, implacable anger. The energy to negotiate dissipates because there is no possible solution.
In this respect I’m just like my dad. We knew the bombast came from shock and processing the situation.
However, when he was most disappointed with me, when I felt the most regret for what I’d done, was when he was speechless.
In the months leading up to the 2020 election I was negotiating in my writing. Months of articles and podcasts detailing my anxiety, pleading with The Davos Crowd to not do what they ultimately did.
Don’t go there, I kept saying, you do not understand what comes next if you do.
On election night they went there. I wrote about it.
For weeks I’ve been saying I hope Trump’s performance is strong enough and his coattails long enough to preclude the Democrats and The Davos Crowd from trying to pull off the theft of the election.
That they would see the magnitude of the problem in front of them and be stopped short by little things like math.
And then realize that even if they did try and cheat it would be so transparent that nothing good for them would be gained by it. But they didn’t listen.
They didn’t listen. Pulling the theft off only emboldened them to push harder. Their plans to destroy the world and “Build Back Better” wouldn’t be stopped. They were on a roll. They’d pulled off the biggest psy-op in history with COVID-9/11 and now they’d just stolen the most important election in the world.
Even if they had private misgivings, in poker terms they were “pot committed.“
It’s clear now they truly felt they could bully the pot with their immense stack of chips.
My horror on election night was brief. Alone, staring at my screen in disbelief, I very quickly went from shock to anger.
And I got very quiet.
At around 2am Tuesday evening I realized that they were actually going to do this and I texted a friend the next morning. His response?
“Civil war it is then.”
He got very qu
Article from LewRockwell