The Pruning of America

There is no joy in communism.  The Russian boxers in Gleason’s Gym never smile.  They all box alike.  They are automatons, like Drago in Rocky IV, shoveled out by the assembly line of big government.  They left Russia to train in New York, but the USSR has traveled with them.  They are failed society in humanoid form.

You can’t have one government hand out all the jobs.  Government is there for us, not we for government.  There is no joy in getting a position or sadness in losing one when it is all determined by a bland administration.  Humanity is crushed by bureaucracy. 

A country run by free enterprise resides joyfully in its vicissitudes.  America depends on its free nature.  The autocracy of red tape cuffs our hands and strangles us when government is bloated.  See "affordable health care," which has sapped the health from medical treatment.

There is no fairness in omnipotent job delegation.  It is a humorless joke that you can give a fair share when all shares have implicit unfairness in them.  Promotions are based on dictatorial administrative decisions. 

Some people are born with beauty.  Some are born with brains.  Some are born with cancer.  Some are aborted.  What fool thinks that job sameness or trivial financial parity in some way makes the world right?  A woman screams for another ten cents an hour and dies next month from a botched abortion.  There is no fairness.  There is only doing the best you can with the hand you have drawn.

Liberalism, socialism, and communism are all ingredients in a thick bouillabaisse.  They taste different, but the philosophical chef behind them is dishing out life with the same spoon.  The intent is the same; the consequences are different.

Competition is fun.  The ne'er-do-wells of the Marxist world have decided to give us our unfair share of what we don’t deserve.  They have diminished the idea of competing because they don’t feel capable of it.  They feel either too stupid or too lazy.

Communism is joyless.  There are no winners or losers – just the general loss of a failed system that turns rainbows into shades of gray and steals the joy of a variegated life. 

In 1972 I was in Budapest.  We were going to Istanbul by bus.  A little old Hungarian woman sitting at our table in the Hotel Metropole started crying.  She said, “They used to call this city 'The Little Paris.'  Its lights have gone out.”

On the streets there were tanks and posters of Lenin and forgettable local leaders.  Was it worth living like this to get another ten cents an hour?  But they didn’t.  They earned less.  They waited on bread lines.

Communism loves sameness.  But the Earth relishes variety.  Obama is Marxist theory repeating itself.  Obama is the droning echo of mindless rhetoric; the sound of cheerleading without an intelligent team for him to root to victory.

Whether we are God-centered or self-centered, we should celebrate the trillion little moves that exist within a democracy rather than communism.  Gerard Manly Hopkins wrote in Pied Beauty, “Glory be to God for dappled things…All things counter, original, spare, strange…”

Communism is bureaucratic, same, typical.  It is the wrong direction for a democratic country that has flowered.  It is the pruning of America.  It is a well-intentioned disaster.    

It has never worked.  Communism’s brilliant public relations keeps trying to resell its benefits.  As Faye Dunaway said about Beatty’s manhood in the movie Bonnie and Clyde, “Your advertising is just dandy.  Folks’d never guess you don’t have a thing to sell.”

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