Webster

The Constitution was made to guard the people against the dangers of good intentions." --American Statesman Daniel Webster (1782-1852)


Wednesday, March 18, 2026

"The Right To Be Left Alone"

 I got this post from a guy named Shane Vaughn on farcebook, I went ahead and read the caselaw mentioned in his story.  what it involved was the anti-abortion people being overzealous.  But now you have all these far left groups pushing their pet causes, BLM or no ICE, or what have you and they are doing the same thing.  This is something for us to remember if we get pushed into that situation, our first instinct is to..


   But the police and the courts might get pissy, so you use the courts to sue the crap out of the protestors, sure the lice ridden vermin don't have any money, but the NGO that sponsored the protest that disturbed you is flush with Soros or USAID cash...so you sic a shark of a lawyer on them with a contingency clause.    They like lawfare, use their playbook against them, they are the ones that started the dance, they are the ones that disturbed you with their bullhorns, whistles, signs and any property damage they caused.....just a thought.


Folks, let me teach you something today that your civics teacher never told you — and the courts hope you never find out or else their dockets will fill up with lawsuits.....
You have TWO rights that live in direct tension with each other. Both are real. Both are protected. And most Americans only know about one of them.
The first one everybody knows: the right to speak. The First Amendment. Say what you want. Protest. Preach. Picket. Knock on doors. Shout from the rooftops. America was built on it.
But here's the one nobody talks about.
The Supreme Court — in a case called Rowan v. Post Office back in 1970 — said this, and I want you to read it slowly:
"The right to be left alone is one of the most cherished rights known to man."
One of the most cherished rights known to man.
The Court didn't stop there. They said — and this is the part that should shake you — no one has the right to press even a good idea on an unwilling recipient.
Not a bad idea. Not a dangerous idea. A GOOD idea. If you don't want to hear it, you have the right not to be forced to.
Then came Frisby v. Schultz in 1988. The Court said targeted picketing — showing up at someone's home, their unavoidable space — can be restricted. Why? Because a captive audience has rights too. The Court called it the captive audience doctrine. If you cannot leave, you cannot be forced to receive.
And in Hill v. Colorado in 2000, the Court upheld buffer zones — spaces where people trying to enter a location cannot be cornered into confrontation. The reasoning? You should not have to abandon your right to be somewhere just to escape someone else's speech.
Now here is where Professor Toto connects the dots for you.
We live in an age where everybody thinks their right to speak trumps your right to be left alone. Social media mobs. Protesters at private homes. Activists who will follow you to your car. Ideologues who show up where they know you cannot leave.
They'll scream "First Amendment!" at you while violating your most cherished right — the right to simply be left alone.
The First Amendment protects your right to speak.
It does NOT give you the right to force your speech on someone who cannot escape it.
Most Americans do not know the difference.
Now you do.
And Now You Know... THE BEST of the Story.

Tuesday, March 17, 2026

"Cleaning Up The Parking Lot"

 

This is a good analogy, and yes I shamelessly cribbed it off farcebook.  Yes I do fall into the first group, I will return the shopping cart plus any other on the way to the shopping cart corral.  The shopping cart corralling is a good analogy for the decay of society, way back in the day, people took civic pride in doing the little things that made the greater society function.  Now it is all about "me-me-me".  Iran is a symptom, nobody wanted to deal with the messy situation, and kept pushing it down the road, and hoped the problem would go away, well President Trump doesn't care, he knows this is his second term, and besides he is a fixer, not a kick the can down the road person, so the can is getting handled.

  Samelessly clipped from Michael Smith.

I’ve posted before about the “shopping cart test.” You know the one. It asks whether we are the kind of people who return the cart to the cart corral in the parking lot, or whether we simply set it free to roam the vast asphalt plains as nature intended.
We have one of those Walmart Express stores about three miles from our house. I had to run down there yesterday and either the cart wranglers had just donned their silver spurs, mounted their electric steeds, and rounded up the herd for delivery to the railhead in Abilene, or the shoppers were all passing the test, because there were no carts milling about unsupervised anywhere.
I also post a lot about history—not because I claim to know everything about it, but because historical patterns reveal something important about human behavior. Humans tend to believe their age is unique, that the problems of their time are unprecedented, and that human nature itself has evolved—but it really hasn’t. The basic impulses that drive human conduct—ambition, fear, pride, self-interest, responsibility—are remarkably constant across centuries. What changes are the tools. Each generation simply invents new and more dangerous toys while repeating the same old mistakes. I just posted about the connection between Botticelli’s final painting, completed more than five hundred years ago, and the strange moment we are living through in America today.
As I was driving home from what we call “Baby Walmart,” I was catching up on some podcasts and thinking about President Trump’s posture toward Iran. Somewhere along the way it occurred to me that the shopping cart test provides a useful analog for how nations approach persistent global problems. For those in Rio Linda, that means I’m about to use examples to explain a larger point—that’s what an analogy is.
Imagine the world as a parking lot. In that global parking lot there appear to be four general schools of thought when it comes to the carts.
The first group believes the carts should be returned to the cart corrals by the people who used them. It is the simplest model of responsibility: if you took it out, you put it back. Order exists because individuals accept small obligations that keep the broader system functioning.
The second group believes the carts are entirely the responsibility of the store employees. After all, someone is paid to deal with it, so why bother? Just unload the groceries, leave the cart wherever it stops rolling, and drive away. From this perspective, maintaining order is always someone else’s job.
The third group sits somewhere between the first two. They intellectually agree that the carts should be organized and returned, but they quietly assume someone else will probably handle it. They support the idea of responsibility in the abstract, just not necessarily the practice of it.
Then there is the fourth group. These are the people who don’t really think about the carts at all. They leave the trolley wherever it happens to land—sometimes squarely in the middle of a parking space—and go on about their day without giving the matter another thought.
When it comes to Iran, much of the world seems to fall into the latter three groups.
Many believe the United Nations should be dealing with the issue, because international institutions were supposedly created to manage such problems. Others assume it is not really their concern as long as they keep enough distance from the situation. And still others simply avoid thinking about it altogether.
In truth, nearly every American president since Jimmy Carter has treated Iran like the far corner of the parking lot where abandoned carts accumulate. Since 1979, leaders of both parties have tried variations of the same approaches. Some argued it was not truly America’s problem. Some handed off the issue to international bodies in the hope that diplomacy would gradually bring the carts back into order. Others simply tried to stay far enough away that the mess would not affect them directly. None of those approaches solved the problem, at best they managed it temporarily. They nudged a few carts out of the way and bought some time. Yet the underlying disorder remained, and over time the number of loose carts in that corner of the lot simply continued to grow.
Eventually a parking lot full of stray carts produces predictable consequences. Cars get dented by runaway trolleys. Parking spaces disappear beneath clusters of metal. Customers start walking halfway across the lot just to find a cart to use. Even if you personally return your cart every time, if enough people do not, the disorder eventually affects everyone. The probability that your brand-new 2026 GMC Sierra 1500 AT4X gets a nice little ding on the door steadily increases. That is how neglected problems work. They rarely stay politely confined to the corner where we left them.
At some point only one thing restores order: someone deciding the problem has gone on long enough. Someone walks out into the lot, looks around at the mess, gathers a team, and begins pushing carts. The broken ones go to the scrap pile. The usable ones go back to the store. Order is restored not through discussion alone, but through the decision to act.
That, for better or worse, is the role Trump appears to be assuming. After more than four decades of presidents from both parties leaving the carts scattered across the Iran section of the parking lot, he has essentially looked at the situation and said the mess is no longer sustainable.
He has told Pete Hegseth to get a crew together and start cleaning up the lot. The rusty fifty-year-old carts that cannot be fixed go into the scrap bin. The serviceable carts get pushed back where they belong.
Reasonable people can debate whether that approach will succeed. Foreign policy is rarely simple, and history has a habit of surprising those who think they have solved it.
One thing is clear: leaving the carts scattered across the parking lot forever was never a solution. Eventually a functioning system requires someone willing to walk into the mess, grab the handle, and start pushing things back into order—because if nobody does, the parking lot eventually belongs to chaos.

Monday, March 16, 2026

Monday Music "Cats in the Cradle" by Harry Chafin

 


This song I heard back in the 70's and it was on one of my "Ronco Records" (I still have it)I had in the late 70's and I remembered it because of the story it told of a father that was always "too busy".  I saw similarities between this and the relationship between me and my Dad.  I know it was a different time and my dad had to work.  he was a CID agent with the U.S Army and his job kept him hopping so he wasn't around much.  My dad did try to play catch with me and my brother a few times and do other things like go fishing as "the guys" but he wasn't around much as I would have hoped.  We took a back burner to his career and I don't hate him for it,  It was the way it was.  His devotion to duty is where I got mine and my brother got his so we did learn a lot from our Dad, and even though he reported to Fiddlers Green, I still miss him  But also because this song I make sure that I am available for my son and his activities and I spend a lot of time with my son because he is my son and he is a good kid and he turned into a good man.  I take pride in that, funny that people say that certain songs make a real impression on them and it follows them through their life.  This song reminded me of that time can move quickly and before you know it, you will be attending graduation and wondering "what the hell happened".  I try to balance my work and home life as the best I can.  My son is my legacy and I tried to "do right" by him.       I will play another "Cats" song for next week...y'all can guess on it, LOL


"Cat's in the Cradle" is a 1974 folk rock song by Harry Chapin from the album Verities & Balderdash. The single topped the Billboard Hot 100 in December 1974. As Chapin's only No. 1 hit song, it became the best known of his work and a staple for folk rock music. Chapin's recording of the song was nominated for the 1975 Grammy Award for Best Male Pop Vocal Performance and was inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame in 2011.

The song's lyrics began as a poem written by Harry's wife, Sandra "Sandy" Gaston; the poem itself was inspired by the awkward relationship between her first husband, James Cashmore, and his father, John, a politician who served as Brooklyn Borough President. She was also inspired by a country music song she had heard on the radio.  Harry also said the song was about his own relationship with his son, Josh, admitting, "Frankly, this song scares me to death."


The song is told in the first-person by a father who is too busy with work to spend time with his son. Each time the son asks him to join in childhood activities, the father issues vague promises of spending time together in the future. While disappointed, the son accepts his excuses and yearns to "be like you, Dad." The first verse tells of his absence at his son's birth and walking, as "there were planes to catch and bills to pay"; the second verse relates the father buying the son a baseball as a birthday present but likewise declining to play catch.
The final two verses reverse the roles. In the third verse, the son returns home from college and his father finally has some time to spend with him. Instead, the son just wants to go out and asks the father for the car keys. The fourth verse advances the story quite some time, when the father is long retired and his son has started his own family some distance away. The father makes a phone call to his son and invites him for a visit, but the son has his own issues with his job and his children are sick with the flu. He tells his father he will visit him if he "can find the time" and says "it's been sure nice talking to you" before he says goodbye. The final two lines of the song reflect the father's observation of what has happened:

The song's chorus references several childhood things: The Cat's in the Cradle string game, silver spoons that are given to babies as christening gifts, and the nursery rhymes Little Boy Blue and Man in the Moon.

Friday, March 13, 2026

Really quick rant

 I had posted this on a couple of farcebook post, the drama about the surf and turf from people that never deployed really irritated me, and they are also screeching that "you MAGAts need to enlist to fight in tRumps war with Iran" my response was " you retards screamed har, har, Ukraine for 4 years, and none of yall beta, cuck males signed up for the Ukrainian Foreign legion, so shut your pie holes while the adults are talking".  Needless to say, yall can see that I'm slightly irritated. 


Funny that, the same people screeching about weekly surf and turf that has been going on for years just because they don't like the administration are perfectly fine seeing the same being purchased by a sponge with an EBT card. And before anyone tries to gaslight me, Yes I deployed to the middle east,  but I was Army, we didn't get the good stuff. The navy traditionally had better food, with the exception of the air force.

   Posted off my kinda smart phone

Thursday, March 12, 2026

"The Great Confusion"

 

I had noticed once President Trump had come down the escalator and announced his run for the presidency, at first the media and the establishment treated his run as a joke.  In their mind they knew that the this was going to be Hillary's year, she had graciously stepped aside because the donk cardinals and movers and shakers knew that in the world of intersectional politics. it was time to have a black president and Obama was the anti-Bush.  Biden had called him "Well Spoken Negro" if memory serves.  And yes somehow he got elected....in 2020 in post George Floyd America....Funny that.  Well anyway I digress.  The longer President Trump ran his campaign, the schism started in the body politics...Apparently President exposed cracks that people knew about that were never discussed...in public.   I was a lukewarm supporter of the GOP, but I wasn't a fan of the trade policies, remember my job got outsourced. But the anti-American policies and anti-2nd amendment policies of the democrats were even more of a turn off.  There were a bunch of us in middle America that Trump was able to tap into, the undercurrent of resentment.  We felt that we help build this nation, then got screwed over.  Our values were no longer appreciated.  The traditional values of generations that were the backbone of this country were sneered on.  Hillary called us "Clingers" because we believed in the America of our forefathers, not the America where the government controlled everything, but the citizens had a say.   Well anyway, Trump's election exposed the chasm that was building for the past 20 years and now there is chaos and there is no equilibrium right now,   President Trump is an agent of Chaos and nobody knows how to handle it more than he does.    It will be interesting what it will be like once President Trump finishes his 2nd term and retires Mare-lago if things will settle down.  I do know that the donks and the never trumper will not know what to do....they will be lost....adrift.....the reason for being has retired....I betcha the suicide hotline will be busy...or is that a tacky thing to say.....😁

   I shamelessly clipped this off farcebook from Michael Smith




Like it or not, the election of Donald Trump in 2016 fractured the old sociopolitical order in America —and a decade later, we still haven’t figured out what that means.
It is difficult to describe exactly what is happening to our social and political order, but something fundamental is clearly shifting beneath our feet. Institutions that once organized society are fracturing. Long-standing assumptions about family, religion, nation, and truth are being rejected or redefined. Schism seems to be everywhere, and even the most basic organizing principles of social life appear to be dissolving.
Not long ago, a “family” was generally understood to mean a mother, a father, a couple of children, and perhaps a dog running around the yard. Today the definition can mean almost anything. Religion, once a central pillar of Western civilization, has become passé in many circles unless it is fused with a political ideology, but the deepest shift is not about family structure or religious observance. It is about truth itself. We are no longer merely arguing about what is true. Increasingly, we are arguing about whether objective truth exists at all.
I’ve taken to calling it The Great Confusion.
Political identity has become almost unrecognizable. People who once occupied relatively stable ideological ground now seem to mutate into strange hybrids. Figures once seen as rational conservative voices—people like Tucker Carlson, Candace Owens, and even Megyn Kelly—now flirt with rhetoric that drifts toward conspiratorial thinking or antisemitic tropes. On the other side, liberals who once framed themselves as defenders of civil liberties now openly advocate authoritarian solutions to social and political problems: censorship regimes, speech restrictions, bureaucratic enforcement of ideological compliance, and the collectivization of social norms.
The language is raw, the hostility explicit, and the mutual distrust nearly absolute.
The weird part is that there seems no coherent ideological struggle between competing visions of governance, it is something closer to fragmentation. Political labels that once provided orientation—conservative, liberal, libertarian, progressive—are steadily losing meaning. People move between positions with dizzying speed, alliances form and collapse overnight, and entire political communities increasingly seem defined less by what they believe than by whom they despise.
I am certainly not a professional historian, but I have read enough history over the years to know that moments like this are not unprecedented. The late Roman Republic experienced something remarkably similar. For centuries Rome had been governed by a stable system of customs and institutions. Senators might argue fiercely, but they still shared a basic understanding of how the political order functioned. Eventually those assumptions began to break down. Norms were ignored, political factions hardened, and rhetoric grew increasingly apocalyptic. Romans themselves complained that the old order no longer worked, yet no one could agree on what should replace it.
Europe experienced another version of this confusion during the Protestant Reformation. For nearly a thousand years, religious authority flowed through a single institutional structure. Then the printing press shattered that monopoly almost overnight. Competing interpretations of truth flooded the public sphere and religious wars followed. People were no longer merely debating doctrine—they were arguing about who had the authority to define reality itself.
The early twentieth century offers yet another example. In the years between the world wars, political categories across Europe dissolved into strange and often dangerous combinations. Nationalists borrowed socialist rhetoric, socialists adopted authoritarian methods, and liberal democracies struggled to defend their own principles. Political language itself became unstable.
Periods like these share a common feature: the collapse of trust in institutions that once mediated truth and authority.
When institutions fail, or when large numbers of people lose faith in them, society inevitably enters a period of intellectual turbulence. The normal mechanisms that help distinguish truth from error begin to break down. Authority becomes diffuse, and everyone increasingly sees himself as his own arbiter of reality. Competing narratives proliferate, expertise is dismissed as propaganda, and conspiracy theories flourish because they offer simple explanations for a complicated world.
The result is the kind of social atmosphere we inhabit today—an environment saturated with information but starved for credibility and trust. People encounter an endless stream of claims, counterclaims, and interpretations, yet fewer institutions remain that command broad confidence as honest brokers of truth.
It is like driving across the country with no road map and only a compass to guide us.
Modern technology—particularly the internet—has accelerated this process in much the same way the printing press did during the Reformation. It shattered the gatekeeping power once exercised by media organizations, universities, and traditional cultural institutions. That democratization of information brought many benefits, but it also removed many of the stabilizing filters that once shaped public discourse. Ideas now circulate instantly and globally, often stripped of context, verification, or restraint. A claim can reach millions of people long before anyone determines whether it is accurate, misleading, or entirely fabricated. The most inflammatory interpretation of events often travels farther and faster than the most measured one.
History suggests that periods like this rarely resolve themselves quickly. Rome’s political crisis unfolded over nearly a century before the republic finally gave way to imperial rule. Europe endured generations of religious conflict before the modern state system gradually stabilized authority after the upheaval of the Reformation. The ideological turmoil of the early twentieth century stretched across decades before a new political equilibrium emerged.
That does not mean our present moment must follow the same path. History never repeats itself perfectly, but it does suggest that confusion is often the opening stage of large-scale political and cultural realignment.
When the old order loses legitimacy and the institutions that once anchored social consensus no longer command trust, society enters a kind of intellectual interregnum—a transitional period in which established norms dissolve faster than new ones can be created to replace them.
The Great Confusion is not simply a disagreement over policy or politics. It is a deeper struggle over the foundations of meaning itself, truth, authority, identity, and legitimacy. Until those foundations stabilize again, the strange alliances, ideological mutations, and social fragmentation we see today will likely continue.
What comes next?
The truth is no one really knows.
I sure as hell don’t.