Democracy, as the president has said, begins with the people taking care of one another responsibly, importantly through government as an instrument of freedom. That how we get our public schools, our roads, our sewers, our patent office, our scientific research, our energy, communication and transportation systems, our food safety, our protectors, and all the rest that we need to be free in our private lives. It is a truth: the private depends on the public. We, all together, constitute the public. Unless we take care of one another and one another’s children, we can’t get democracy — and freedom — right.
I hate having to share a planet with minds like this.
“There’s sore decline in Adam’s line if this is the spawn of man.” – Kipling
H/T to Sipsey Street.
“government as an instrument of freedom”
Okay, I get it now. The sheer magnitude of willful cognitive dissonance is going to converge to a singularity on Thursday, and the Mayan Apocalypse thingy will happen after all.
The stupid! It burns!
War is peace… hate is love… now I get it.
Scientific Research, Energy, Communications infrastructure were all private enterprises and succesful before government started regulating them to death. The public (and govt) requires the private. Without the private to tax and regulate, there is no need for the public (govt). Private can build roads, power plants, homes, armed forces etc. Only drawback with private doing it is that public will starve, and private will only spend their money on things they believe matters.
I can’t find that piece of Kipling. Do you have a title?
It’s from Tomlinson. I didn’t remember it quite right.
The Devil he blew upon his nails, and the little devils ran,
And he said: “Go husk this whimpering thief that comes in the guise of a man:
“Winnow him out ‘twixt star and star, and sieve his proper worth:
“There’s sore decline in Adam’s line if this be spawn of Earth.”
Empusa’s crew, so naked-new they may not face the fire,
But weep that they bin too small to sin to the height of their desire,
Over the coal they chased the Soul, and racked it all abroad,
As children rifle a caddis-case or the raven’s foolish hoard.
And back they came with the tattered Thing, as children after play,
And they said: “The soul that he got from God he has bartered clean away.
“We have threshed a stook of print and book, and winnowed a chattering wind,
“And many a soul wherefrom he stole, but his we cannot find.
“We have handled him, we have dandled him, we have seared him to the bone,
“And, Sire, if tooth and nail show truth he has no soul of his own.”
Thanks!