The Crime of the Century"
friday, april 2nd, 2010
it's been 105 years since a clandestine plot was hatched to purloin America's capitalist system and replace it with socialism. Most of us were unaware of what was taking place right under our naïve noses, but recent events have now made it clear. Here's how it happened:
Autumn of 1905 was chock-full of historic people and events. Teddy Roosevelt was president. His cousins Franklin and Eleanor were settling down as newlyweds in New York. Novelist Upton Sinclair had recently published his infamous novel "The Jungle" in serial form.
A young baseball player named Ty Cobb was enjoying his rookie year, and inventor Orville Wright was recovering from a recent airplane crash. The science community was atwitter with talk of new physics theories just published by a 26-year old nobody named Einstein.
The U.S. population was around 83 million people. Fifteen million of them had a bathtub; six million had a telephone, and fifty of them were about to embark on a plan to replace American capitalism with Marxist socialism.
On September 12, 1905, a group of community organizers assembled in the loft of Peck's restaurant in New York City. Among those in attendance were Upton Sinclair, Jack London, John Dewey, Clarence Darrow, Mary "Mother" Jones, and Walter Lippman.
They named their group the Intercollegiate Socialist Society (I.S.S.). Governing and membership rules were established. Officers were chosen and goals were identified:"1. Promote an intelligent interest in Socialism among college men and women ; 2. Familiarize students with the inherent evils of American economic and social system based on laissez-faire policies ; 3. Promote the establishment of a socialist order ."
The I.S.S. determined to achieve its goals in three ways: organize I.S.S. chapters on college campuses; graduate socialist adherents into society; and permeate labor unions, schools, and government with their followers.
Initial efforts met with resistance, as socialism was despised in America at this time. But with persistence and occasional obfuscation, I.S.S. chapters were soon formed at Harvard, Columbia, and Princeton, and by 1917, there were 61 college campus chapters and twelve alumni groups.
At about the same time the Intercollegiate Socialist Society was organized, the Rand School of Social Science opened for business in New York City. The school was funded primarily by the British Fabians. Various Intercollegiate Socialist Society officers were also on the board of the Rand School, whose purpose aligned with that of the I.S.S.:"The school had a very definite object — that of providing an auxiliary or specialized agency to serve the Socialist and Trade Union Movement of the United States in an educational capacity — to offer training along the lines calculated to make them more efficient workers for the Cause. "
As they were expanding their reach through college campuses and the Rand School, I.S.S. members were also busy building other organizations to advance their cause. The Industrial Workers of the World, the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, the American Civil Liberties Union, the New Republic magazine, and multiple teachers' unions were all founded by Society members. And in 1919, this tireless group launched yet another weapon against our economic system: The New School for Social Research.
Although their membership numbers were increasing, in 1921, the I.S.S. encountered a publicity problem. The recent Bolshevik Revolution had moved Russia from aristocracy to socialism, where it teetered briefly before falling into communism. Consequently, American sentiment toward socialism was increasingly hostile. It was time for the Intercollegiate Socialist Society to heed the advice that their comrade, ACLU founder Roger Baldwin, had once given:"Do steer away from making it look like a Socialist enterprise. We want also to look [like] patriots in everything we do. We want to get a good lot of flags, talk a good deal about the Constitution and what our forefathers wanted to make of this country, and to show that we are really the folks that really stand for the spirit of our institutions."
Consequently, they changed their name to the League for Industrial Democracy (L.I.D.) and articulated a new goal: "education for a new social order based on production for use and not for profit." The work of the L.I.D. moved forward, now with an emphasis on reaching the general public with their message.
Sixteen years of effort had by this time produced socialist sympathizers employed in all facets of society — government in particular. Ironically, the more socialist thinking wormed its way into the economic policy, the more the economy was dragged down, making capitalism look like a flawed system. And the more capitalism looked like a flawed system, the more appealing the utopian vision of socialism became. With these factors in play and without organized resistance, rapid expansion of the socialist movement from 1921 to the present was almost inevitable; its tentacles were and are everywhere.
The drumbeat of capitalist criticism has now been going for over a century. This economic structure of opportunity has been repeatedly portrayed as a system which is oppressive, when in reality it is socialism that results in true oppression. This oppression appears to have been an ulterior motive of the movement all along, as evidenced by this revealing quote from an address given in 1903 by General Education Board President Frederick T. Gates:"In our dream, we have limitless resources, and the people yield themselves with perfect docility to our molding hand. The present educational conventions fade from our minds; and, unhampered by tradition, we work our own good will upon a grateful and responsive rural folk ."
Do Americans really want a system where the powers that be can "work their good will" on us? Do those who have unknowingly bought into to this century-old power-play comprehend the hoax being played on them? Unless we who see through this scheme can passionately persuade our fellow citizens about the merits of our maligned capitalist system and the underlying motives for eliminating it, our fight to sustain the Republic might be a losing effort.
Let me take you back to 1905 again and tell you the story of someone who did practice that kind of passionate persuasion. On February 5 of that year, Alisa Rosenbaum was born in Saint Petersburg, Russia. At the innocent age of 12, she witnessed the horrors of the Bolshevik Revolution, and her family experienced difficult communist persecution. In 1926, she left her homeland for the freedom of America.
After a brief stay in New York City, Ms. Rosenbaum moved to Hollywood, where she became a screenwriter, playwright, and novelist. This Russian woman went on to become one of America's staunchest opponents of socialism and outspoken advocates of capitalism, and her influence continues through her books and through a website dedicated to her work.
This is the kind of passionate persuasion for which we need to strive before it's too late. By the way, perhaps you know Ms. Rosenbaum better by her American name — "Atlas Shrugged" author, Ayn Rand.
Notes:  p. 1, The Turning of the Tides, 1962, Long House Publishing, Paul W. Shafer, John Howland Snow.  The Life and Mind of John Dewey. Dykhuizen, George (1973). Carbondale: Southern Illinois.  The American Labor Year Book, 1916. New York: Rand School of Social Science,; pg. 151.  The Country School of Tomorrow. The Board. Occasional Papers, No. 1.
© By Jill S. Sprik, March 28, 2010, in "The American Thinker".
Around The Garden Center™.
It was snowing on my way into work on Friday morning. So much for Spring! I'm warning people not to plant tender plants just yet, as it's just too early and we're going to get smacked with more frosty nights and possibly some light snow.
I slipped on the stairs in my condo and reinjured my back (L5 vert) on the way into work on Saturday morning, so I limped into the GC&N Complex, put an ice-pak on it, ate a handful of aspirin, loaded mulch and helped customers as best I could. Charlie never showed-up for work. By 1:15pm, I was in such pain that I had to leave Dad & Becky there, and go home to lay on the LR couch with a heating pad, and take 200mg of Gabapentin. That helped considerably. I spent the rest of the day on the couch, resting. I woke-up at 3am, and went back upstairs to sleep until 12:30pm on Sunday.
We've had another Nor'easter storm system sitting on us since Sunday afternoon, and it's coming back off the ocean to dump rain (but no snow!) on the region. The creek along Rt 216 was several feet over its banks, and the Susquehanna River was 10-12 feet from flood level.
Monday and Tuesday were rainy and cold, in the low-40s. It was sleeting for a while on Tuesday afternoon, on my way home at 2pm. I closed early, since the lscp guys were soaked and chilled-to-the-bone. I have 2 lscp site visits to make on Wednesday morning, hopefully leading to several very nice projects. We're ready. We had a delivery of New England Pottery, today. And all nursery stock is now out of the 6 GHs, as we sort through the damaged and unsaleable units, and put everything else on display, after cutting back/ fertilizing (Holly-Tone) the deciduous shrubs and trees.
The few nursery deliveries we have coming-in this year, are almost completed. We have an abundance of leftover stock and speciments to sell, before we get back to ordering the kind of volume, from 10-15 suppliers I'd done in the past, if I ever do again. The 20th Open House — Saturday, April 17th & Sunday April 18th — will thin those out considerable. The economy is weak and getting weaker by the month. Small businesses closing and thousands of workers being laid-off or outright fired, doesn't bode well for a "discretionary spending industtry like mine", and many, many others. We're feeling more than just a "pinch"; we're feeling an "economic anvil" crashing down upon us, through no fault of our own. "Cutting expenses and controlling costs" is the only way to survive this out-of-control communist gov'ts spening/taxing spree. And it's going to get a whole lot worse, I believe.
I was back in my office by 9:25am, preparing for the morning's meetings, reviewing notes I'd taken, copying the Warranty for one client whom I felt was going to claim that Winter Damage was covered under my 5-year Conditional Warranty; it isn't. The other client had 4-5 "new projects", since he'd bought into a construction firm, and also needed work done on his own home, as he was on The York Garden Tour, this year. Over the years, we've had several hundred customers on the prestigious YGT; they get all excited about it, while we just take it in-stride. It was 66°F, sunny and beautiful, a far cry from Monday and Tuesday's crappy weather.
I got through my two morning lscp appointments and sold a $1,575 lscp job in the afternoon. I have a loaded schedule this week, and the next two weeks are filling-up fast, too, for site visits. I'll get the design/ presentation work done, as in "the old days", somehow. I enjoy sleeping until 8am. I'll miss that once Spring-Summer-Fall Hours kick-in, on Monday, April 12th.
Just a reminder that I gave "John's Journal" its own domain name: John's Journal, which takes you to the "portal page", and answer a simple "yes" or "no" question, and go in from there, is you're so inclined. It's separate from my newly-redesigned corporate site, John Shelley's Garden Center & Nursery, Inc., as I wanted it to be for the past few years.
The "Virtual Cabin"™: A Novella.
I went back to The Cabin on Friday Night, to get away from all the BS I've been subjected to, for the past 20 years. I can't take it anymore; I'm thoroughly disgusted with both political parties; they're just flip-side of the same coin, IMO. I need to get away from it all, weekly, or I'll go nuts. Have you ever been down a "rabbit hole", and survived? I have, once. I don't expect to, more than twice.
After I left the GC&N Complex on Saturday due to severe (L-5 vert) back, at 1:15pm, I went home, laid on the couch and heating pad. Jenny climbed onto the couch and snuggled-in next to me, pissing-off Murphy & Mama Kitty. After a few hours, Gabapentin and aspirin, I loaded her in the Jeep, fed and watered the cats, and headed back to The Cabin. I just needed to get away. Next week, and the coming weeks were going to be full of customer site visits, landscape design and estimates, and I needed some time off before all that crap began.
We arrived at 2:45pm, and I slid the Jeep into the lean-to aside the kitchen door. I had a lot of supplied to unload, so I let Jenny loose on the property to run and frolic. I had almost all the boxes inside, when I heard her mournful yelps and screeches. I grabbed my AR-10 (7.62 x 51mm) with CBQT Leupold Glass. I went driving in the last direction I'd seen her scampering, when I came upon a 600lb black bear standing over her, and Jenny lying on the ground, pretty bloodied-up. I shot the bear 3x in the head, with the AR-10 .308cal, for good measure, scooped-up Jenny into a blanket and multiple towels, to stem the bleeding, put her into the Jeep, dialed Adam's Junction's Vet, Dr. Jayson Martin, and told him what happened. He said to get to his Office-OR/ ASAP, and I did, at 90+mph. Along the way, I picked-up two police "escorts", until they saw me carry her out of the Jeep and into the Vet's Office/OR. Then, they were on my side.
We carried Jenny into the OR, and Dr. Jayson had a 3-person surgical team already assembled. They worked for nearly 4hrs, doing repairs. I was finally let-in to see her as they took her to ICU and had her hooked-up to all kinds of machines and monitors. Dr. Jayson said she'd lost a lot of blood, and almost became a meal, many thanks to my quick action. Seems he had one of Jenny's mom's pups, too, and didn't want to see Jenny die. He asked if 6-10 days would be alright for her recovery; I gave him a credit card, which he refused, and said he'd let me know her progress, day-by-day. I stroked her and left; she licked my hand. She *knew* I was there for her.
I still got a ticket when I left the Vet's Office, but it was for a $250 Townhall Raffle of road/ pothole repairs; I volunteered $500, and they accepted, and wrote me another $250 one. Police Corporal Clay Atler wrote the ticket and I followed him back to the Police Station, where he noticed tears running down my face. I was clearly negligent in letting Jenny run free in the Spring, since so many dangerous animals were coming out of hibernation, and what could happen was easily-predictable, if you'd lived in these parts, but being a *noobe*, I didn't have the background, but should have surmised it could happen. Sherrif Bunce says Dr. Jayson Martin, DMV, was the best there was around, and he'd get Jenny through it, okay. I wrote the $500 road repair check and left; no points on my license.
The drive back to The Cabin was lonely and daunting without Jenny; I'd grown accustomed to her company. I knew she was suffering back at the Vet's, but that the Doc and his Staff would pull her through with all the pain killers and care she needed.
This time, I parked the Jeep right in front of The Cabin, on the circle stone drive, quickly went inside and got my .50cal Beowulf and 50 rounds of ammo, the Remy 11-87 AutoLoader with new 6-round sidesaddle and 20-round bandolier, with 3" slugs, and of course I always carried my 1911 Kimber "Eclipse Target" .45cal ACP, with 3 extra 8-round mags. I put on my LLB Bean 12" Maine Hunting Boots, a Green Barn Coat and set-out walking the property in 2-mile grids, checking every rock outcropping and possible hole den for dangerous animals. I had bright-colored marker stakes along, so I could return with my JD 317 SkidLoader, shove 2-3 lit cyanide bombs inside the dens, and then seal them off with boulders and topsoil. The other options, according to the local Penna Game Warden, were to flush all occupants out and shoot them, or tranquilize them and have them transported to another part of the state. The 2nd option could cost upward of $20,000-30,000, depending upon the quantity of critters found. I didn't have that kind of money. He said that there are "short-form grants" available for that activity, and that he'd pick-up some forms on Monday, in his office and get them to me.
I covered 6 square miles, located 3 dens and marked them. I'd be back tomorrow morning with the cyanide bombs to finish the job. I have a lot more territory to cover in the next few days and weeks. As I was walking back to The Cabin, I saw a mother mountain lion and 3 cubs patrolling about 250yds from me, obviously just coming out of their den for a Spring feeding. Neither my Beowulf .50 or the Remy 11-87 had the range to hit/kill the four of them, so I backtracked their prints to the den and marked it for destruction, tomorrow.
I was tired when I got back to The Cabin, and had a couple calls on my cellphone. One was from Sherrif Bunce that he'd like to talk with me before I engage in all this "wildlife carnage"; the other was from Police Corporal Clay Atler and Firefighter Mike, who also had a "better idea" than the complete wildlife extermination which I was planning. I called all three back and asked where we should meet. The consensus was at my Cabin, so they could show me what they were proposing. I agreed for tomorrow, Sunday, after Church.
I fired-up The Cabin Heater, lit a roaring fire in the giant hearth, made dinner, and cleaned-out Jenny's bowls and litter boxes in BR2 on the tarp, since I didn't know how long she'd be in-hospital, recuperating. I'd planned on going everyday I could, to see her, pet her and soothe her. I felt the guilt for not know ***what damned wildlife*** was out there to do her harm and possibly death. Now I knew, and was determined to take revenge and clear the 43-acres area for good. I poured a Brandy, lit a Cuban Cigar (don't ask), a nice roaring fire at the giant hearth, and delved into "Foreign Enemies & Traitors", by Matthew Bracken, aka Jeff Head. I stayed-up until 10pm, and then crawled into a freshly-laundered made King-sized bed, sans Jenny this night.
I got up Sunday morning, laid-out my hi-po weapons — AR-10 (7.62 x 51mm) plus 10 x 20-round mags; .50cal Beowulf with .300gr round, 11 to a magazine, and my 1911 Kimber .45cal ACP with 3 extra 8-round mags — plus I also stockpiled 200 cyanide, fused-tunnel bombs, for final disposal. I fueled-up the JD 675B SkidLoader to seal the dens and tunnels after the remaining animals were found, and poison embedded in their Winter boroughs. I hated the thought of killing wildlife, but after what a 600lb Black Bear did to Jenny, I was PO'd! Then I remembered it was *my fault* for not going with her, to protect her, especially at this 'critical time of year', when wild animals wake-up from hibernation, have cubs to feed and are looking for *food*. Jenny almost became *food*, thanks to the AR-10. I could have shot a few deer and left them for food, but instead Jenny became a target. That f•cking wouldn't happen again, dammit!
I had property plot laid-out on the 6ft x 10ft Oak DR Table, showing all structures, ready-to-go on Sunday morning, when the 3 officials got there for the meeting. Sherrif Bunce, Police Corporal Clay Atler and Firefighter Mike showed-up on Sunday afternoon, after Church, in 3 official cars, around 1pm. Each of them had their own theory of how to handle wildlife on my 45-ac property. 1) Don't let Jenny or any other house animal run free wo/ my direct supervision, 2) Flush-out, tranquilize, trap and relocate the wildlife to other areas of Penna, 3) Not allow house animals to run free on the property, 4) Contain all human activity to The Cabin, since food will draw wildlife to a picnic etc, 5) Move to a development not known for its wildlife and give-up my privacy. None except #1 were acceptable to me, as I poured them gourmet coffee, when they'd never had before. "I will do what needs to be done, dammit, to protect myself and my charges. And I'm not spending $20,000-$30,000 to move these animals. If the FedGov has free grants, I'd consider that option. Otherwise, I'll just donate the meat to the local foodbanks via the country butchers, the pelts/ heads to the local taxidermist, and I didn't want anything from it.
Sheriff Bunce unexpectedly brought-up a "sore subject" of some 35-37 years ago: my Vietnam tours. "I have your DD214 separation papers (honorable discharge), 3 Silver Stars, 2 Bronze Stars, Good Conduct Medal, and In-Theater Ribbon and a list of other decorations. You were a real bad ass under CIA control while in 3th Special Forces, from '71 to '74, doing counter insurgency work and retrieving our POWs. You can fly a Huey, a Cobra gunship, you were a extraordinary sniper with 752 confirmed kills, and had a very high price on your head from the VC and NVR, when your 3rd tour was over", he said. Please don't let that color what you're going to do here; please keep a level head. You're not "John Rambo" any more. I agreed and explained that's why I asked for their consult and advice before proceeding any further. That settled them down.
Roy Bunce continued, "I have a feeling you could have killed every one of the militia crazies who visited you several weeks back, but we're darned glad you didn't. He smiled. "We don't have enough body bags or toe tags for them all." I chuckled. "Chief, that was a long, long time ago; I'm 60 now and doubt I could have gotten every single one of them. A few might still be in your clinic and hospital." Roy said, "you have one of the most awesome arsenals any of us have ever seen, though you say you merely use them for target practice, these days. And from your Sniper days, you know that humans are targets, too." I did, but didn't answer his question.
"Not to worry," I said. I just want some peace and quiet in my life at "The Virtual Cabin"; that's why I come up here from York. I'm not here to cause any trouble. Scout's Honor, and I showed them my tattered & laminated 1962 Eagle Scout Card." That put their trepidations to rest, for good.
I loaded Sherrif Bunce, Police Corporal Clay Atler and Firefighter Mike into my 2002 Jeep Grand Cherokee "Laredo" and we set-out to see the 3-4 dens I'd marked for destruction, and we spotted a few more along the way, and I marked them. Badgers? Hadn't thought about them; they're dangerous and vicious, when provoked, as are bears. Another wild critter to deal with. Damn. By the end of the day, we had 14 Winter dens ID'd, and I have enough cyanide bombs and hi-po guns and ammo to deal with them. I'd start tomorrow. Sherrif Bunce, Police Corporal Clay Atler and Firefighter Mike left at dusk, after making them 10z prime AB filet mignons, baked beans, brussel sprouts and crusty Italian Garlic Bread, for dinner. I also served a 2oz glass of 50-yr of Brandy, to each, but no Cuban Cigars. The all smoked Marlboros cigs or their own personal brand; they did not want any expensive Cuban cigars. Go Figure.
I sat by the massive hearth, and for the first time in many, many years, anguished at what Jenny was going through with her injuries and pain. I picked-up the cellphone and called Dr. Jayson Martin, DMV, and got his receptionist, even though it was just after office hours. I asked about Jenny's progress, and she took the portable phone into Jenny's semi-private recuperative area, and I heard her whine and bark when I talked to her. Louise said she even licked the phone. I knew she was going to be okay, and hopefully come home in a few days, after healing some more. She was lucky to be alive, had I not happened upon that 600lb Black Bear and ventilated its head 3x with the Beowulf .50cal 360gr HPs.
I didn't feel like reading; just drinking some old Brandy, which BTW was running low. I'd have to pick-up another couple 750ml bottles when I got back to York. Adam's Junction only had a beer store; no wines or spirits to be had.
I went to sleep early, as I had several lscp appointments on Wednesday, and needed to be prepared to handle some complex jobs. It didn't take long to fall asleep. I was up at 5:30am, made Eggs Benedict and Gourmet Coffee, and left for York.
I decided to drive-up to The Cabin after work on Wednesday, since we're still on Winter Hours (Mon - Sat, 10am - 3pm; Closed Sunday), and visit Jenny. I drove straight to Dr Martin's VetCare, and asked to see her. Dr Martin personally led me into Jenny's room, and her bandaged tail started wagging furiously. She whined and barked when she heard me coming, and before she could get up, we both gently held her down on the thick bed of towels, so she wouldn't get stressed or tired. He graciously left and I nuzzled her, and stroked her, being careful of her wounds. She is a strong spirit, and knows I'm sorry for leaving her roam loose, without supervision in the Spring, with all the true wildlife roaming and looking for food. She'll make a good recovery, and I promised her that wouldn't ever happen again.
I stopped at the General Store and stocked-up on a few pantry items I was running low on, and headed back to The Cabin. I pulled the Jeep into the circle drive, went to the front door with the boxes and put them on the picnic table, turned back to the Jeep to get the other box and my keys, when I saw the same female & male mountain lions and their cubs heading straight for me, across the lawn. All I had was the 1911 Kimber .45cal ACP; the Beowulf and Remy 11-87 12ga Semi-Automatic AutoLoader were in the Jeep's back compartment. The lions were no more than 200ft away, and they could cover that distance on a sprint, in 2-3 secs. I unholstered the Kimber, chambered a 160gr HP round, and fired-off two shots, which landed just in front of them. They scattered back into the thicket, foiled again for another "bad-tasting human meal". I ran for my long guns, scrambled back up on to the porch, disarmed the burglar alarm, and grabbed the boxes of pantry staples and guns and quickly got inside.
By now, I was nervous that they were going to lay-in-wait for me to come out, when I left to go back to York, to attack. I flipped-on The Cabin heater, went from window-to-window, all around The Cabin, looking for their eyeballs, then flipped-on the massive spotlights, on a four sides of The Cabin. Again, I went around to all windows to see it any eye reflections were looking back at me. Nothing. So I unloaded the pantry staples, decided not to build a hearth fire, as I would be leaving in 30-45mins, to get back to York. I had lscp appointments on Thursday and needed to get a good night's sleep. Damn; I was down to 23 Cuban Cigars. Time to call "my man in Miami" and get a reload.
I headed back to York, to get some sleep and to a very busy day.