Our Dying Heritage

[night_son]

When I was a young boy my grandfather, a half-Massawomeck Native American and veteran WW2 paratrooper pathfinder, would sometimes tell us these parable-like stories about yesteryear. Thing is he'd never tell them to us grandchildren directly, only to other present adults, however, we came to know these tales were really for us because he would tell them in a special volume of voice so we could all hear them too from out favorite corner of the kitchen behind the old wood stove. Two of his stories stand out in my memory, favorites among the rest.

Sometime during the 1960's, during the annual volunteer fireman's town carnival, dozens of members of the Pagan motorcycle gang descended on the festivities and set about causing all manner of mayhem including the looting of game booths, groping of local women—most of them wives of the town men—and otherwise turning what was perhaps the most anticipated yearly event in a town of less than two thousand people into a waking nightmare. The police department there at the time consisted of two officers: the chief and one patrol cop, both of whom had served in the Army with my grandfather. According to my grandfather, who has been gone for five years now, a group of town men gathered with the police chief, went home and armed themselves (many of the men including my grandfather had brought German or Japanese weapons home from the War), and then proceeded to engage the Pagans—first with words and shots over their heads and then ultimately with coordinated, precision fire. Apparently several of the Pagans were wounded and many of their motorcycles destroyed. Of course, my grandfather's version of the story was much more colorful and exciting. Funny thing about all of that? Many years later I ended up dating the daughter of the President of the Pagans. A man so full of integrity he once threatened to kill his daughter for not returning an expensive gift he had given her on her birthday. I guess some breeds of men never change . . .

The second story is very similar, I'll spare you all the details. Again a direct threat came to that same small town, only this time in the form of some kind of exotic wild goats escaped from a nearby circus, and once more the men of said town, along with my grandfather, banded together and killed the rampaging animals to the last. My favorite part of this story is my grandfather's description of one of his war buddies aiming down the sights at a wild goat, about how the man tracked the beast with the weapon's muzzle and did not fire until the beast leapt above a stand of grass far out in a local field. Shot it dead through the heart on the run . . .

The point of all this? A simple series of questions, really, I suppose. Where are the rest of the sons and grandsons of men like my grandfather and his WW2 buddies? What has become, what is becoming of the American man in our day and age? There was a time (so cliché sounding I know) when the American man, a majority of them perhaps, were ever at the ready to risk life and limb to defend the lives of their family and neighbors and communities from agents of chaos in any form. Whether or not to do so wasn't even a question. In short . . . what the fuck is wrong with most American men these days? You know I see those commercials online with men going on an on about shaving their balls so they'll be more appealing to the ladies and I can't help but wonder: can those boy-girls even find their testicles in the first place? I sure as hell hope so because both the Pagans and the wild circus goats have descended on all our small towns or they're about to.

 

[Mac-7]

When I was a young boy my grandfather, a half-Massawomeck Native American and veteran WW2 paratrooper pathfinder, would sometimes tell us these parable-like stories about yesteryear. Thing is he'd never tell them to us grandchildren directly, only to other present adults, however, we came to know these tales were really for us because he would tell them in a special volume of voice so we could all hear them too from out favorite corner of the kitchen behind the old wood stove. Two of his stories stand out in my memory, favorites among the rest.

Sometime during the 1960's, during the annual volunteer fireman's town carnival, dozens of members of the Pagan motorcycle gang descended on the festivities and set about causing all manner of mayhem including the looting of game booths, groping of local women—most of them wives of the town men—and otherwise turning what was perhaps the most anticipated yearly event in a town of less than two thousand people into a waking nightmare. The police department there at the time consisted of two officers: the chief and one patrol cop, both of whom had served in the Army with my grandfather. According to my grandfather, who has been gone for five years now, a group of town men gathered with the police chief, went home and armed themselves (many of the men including my grandfather had brought German or Japanese weapons home from the War), and then proceeded to engage the Pagans—first with words and shots over their heads and then ultimately with coordinated, precision fire. Apparently several of the Pagans were wounded and many of their motorcycles destroyed. Of course, my grandfather's version of the story was much more colorful and exciting. Funny thing about all of that? Many years later I ended up dating the daughter of the President of the Pagans. A man so full of integrity he once threatened to kill his daughter for not returning an expensive gift he had given her on her birthday. I guess some breeds of men never change . . .

The second story is very similar, I'll spare you all the details. Again a direct threat came to that same small town, only this time in the form of some kind of exotic wild goats escaped from a nearby circus, and once more the men of said town, along with my grandfather, banded together and killed the rampaging animals to the last. My favorite part of this story is my grandfather's description of one of his war buddies aiming down the sights at a wild goat, about how the man tracked the beast with the weapon's muzzle and did not fire until the beast leapt above a stand of grass far out in a local field. Shot it dead through the heart on the run . . .

The point of all this? A simple series of questions, really, I suppose. Where are the rest of the sons and grandsons of men like my grandfather and his WW2 buddies? What has become, what is becoming of the American man in our day and age? There was a time (so cliché sounding I know) when the American man, a majority of them perhaps, were ever at the ready to risk life and limb to defend the lives of their family and neighbors and communities from agents of chaos in any form. Whether or not to do so wasn't even a question. In short . . . what the fuck is wrong with most American men these days? You know I see those commercials online with men going on an on about shaving their balls so they'll be more appealing to the ladies and I can't help but wonder: can those boy-girls even find their testicles in the first place? I sure as hell hope so because both the Pagans and the wild circus goats have descended on all our small towns or they're about to.

Most people under 30 are so ignorant they no longer remember the greatness of the WWII generation

They have been brainwashed to only remember segregation

 

[Ringel05]

When I was a young boy my grandfather, a half-Massawomeck Native American and veteran WW2 paratrooper pathfinder, would sometimes tell us these parable-like stories about yesteryear. Thing is he'd never tell them to us grandchildren directly, only to other present adults, however, we came to know these tales were really for us because he would tell them in a special volume of voice so we could all hear them too from out favorite corner of the kitchen behind the old wood stove. Two of his stories stand out in my memory, favorites among the rest.

Sometime during the 1960's, during the annual volunteer fireman's town carnival, dozens of members of the Pagan motorcycle gang descended on the festivities and set about causing all manner of mayhem including the looting of game booths, groping of local women—most of them wives of the town men—and otherwise turning what was perhaps the most anticipated yearly event in a town of less than two thousand people into a waking nightmare. The police department there at the time consisted of two officers: the chief and one patrol cop, both of whom had served in the Army with my grandfather. According to my grandfather, who has been gone for five years now, a group of town men gathered with the police chief, went home and armed themselves (many of the men including my grandfather had brought German or Japanese weapons home from the War), and then proceeded to engage the Pagans—first with words and shots over their heads and then ultimately with coordinated, precision fire. Apparently several of the Pagans were wounded and many of their motorcycles destroyed. Of course, my grandfather's version of the story was much more colorful and exciting. Funny thing about all of that? Many years later I ended up dating the daughter of the President of the Pagans. A man so full of integrity he once threatened to kill his daughter for not returning an expensive gift he had given her on her birthday. I guess some breeds of men never change . . .

The second story is very similar, I'll spare you all the details. Again a direct threat came to that same small town, only this time in the form of some kind of exotic wild goats escaped from a nearby circus, and once more the men of said town, along with my grandfather, banded together and killed the rampaging animals to the last. My favorite part of this story is my grandfather's description of one of his war buddies aiming down the sights at a wild goat, about how the man tracked the beast with the weapon's muzzle and did not fire until the beast leapt above a stand of grass far out in a local field. Shot it dead through the heart on the run . . .

The point of all this? A simple series of questions, really, I suppose. Where are the rest of the sons and grandsons of men like my grandfather and his WW2 buddies? What has become, what is becoming of the American man in our day and age? There was a time (so cliché sounding I know) when the American man, a majority of them perhaps, were ever at the ready to risk life and limb to defend the lives of their family and neighbors and communities from agents of chaos in any form. Whether or not to do so wasn't even a question. In short . . . what the fuck is wrong with most American men these days? You know I see those commercials online with men going on an on about shaving their balls so they'll be more appealing to the ladies and I can't help but wonder: can those boy-girls even find their testicles in the first place? I sure as hell hope so because both the Pagans and the wild circus goats have descended on all our small towns or they're about to.

What's happened? The progression of time that has happened (and is happening) to all world powers throughout history.

1. The age of outburst (or pioneers).
2. The age of conquests.
3. The age of commerce.
4. The age of affluence.
5. The age of intellect.
6. The age of decadence.
7. The age of decline and collapse.

 

[night_son]

When I was a young boy my grandfather, a half-Massawomeck Native American and veteran WW2 paratrooper pathfinder, would sometimes tell us these parable-like stories about yesteryear. Thing is he'd never tell them to us grandchildren directly, only to other present adults, however, we came to know these tales were really for us because he would tell them in a special volume of voice so we could all hear them too from out favorite corner of the kitchen behind the old wood stove. Two of his stories stand out in my memory, favorites among the rest.

Sometime during the 1960's, during the annual volunteer fireman's town carnival, dozens of members of the Pagan motorcycle gang descended on the festivities and set about causing all manner of mayhem including the looting of game booths, groping of local women—most of them wives of the town men—and otherwise turning what was perhaps the most anticipated yearly event in a town of less than two thousand people into a waking nightmare. The police department there at the time consisted of two officers: the chief and one patrol cop, both of whom had served in the Army with my grandfather. According to my grandfather, who has been gone for five years now, a group of town men gathered with the police chief, went home and armed themselves (many of the men including my grandfather had brought German or Japanese weapons home from the War), and then proceeded to engage the Pagans—first with words and shots over their heads and then ultimately with coordinated, precision fire. Apparently several of the Pagans were wounded and many of their motorcycles destroyed. Of course, my grandfather's version of the story was much more colorful and exciting. Funny thing about all of that? Many years later I ended up dating the daughter of the President of the Pagans. A man so full of integrity he once threatened to kill his daughter for not returning an expensive gift he had given her on her birthday. I guess some breeds of men never change . . .

The second story is very similar, I'll spare you all the details. Again a direct threat came to that same small town, only this time in the form of some kind of exotic wild goats escaped from a nearby circus, and once more the men of said town, along with my grandfather, banded together and killed the rampaging animals to the last. My favorite part of this story is my grandfather's description of one of his war buddies aiming down the sights at a wild goat, about how the man tracked the beast with the weapon's muzzle and did not fire until the beast leapt above a stand of grass far out in a local field. Shot it dead through the heart on the run . . .

The point of all this? A simple series of questions, really, I suppose. Where are the rest of the sons and grandsons of men like my grandfather and his WW2 buddies? What has become, what is becoming of the American man in our day and age? There was a time (so cliché sounding I know) when the American man, a majority of them perhaps, were ever at the ready to risk life and limb to defend the lives of their family and neighbors and communities from agents of chaos in any form. Whether or not to do so wasn't even a question. In short . . . what the fuck is wrong with most American men these days? You know I see those commercials online with men going on an on about shaving their balls so they'll be more appealing to the ladies and I can't help but wonder: can those boy-girls even find their testicles in the first place? I sure as hell hope so because both the Pagans and the wild circus goats have descended on all our small towns or they're about to.

What's happened? The progression of time that has happened (and is happening) to all world powers throughout history.

1. The age of outburst (or pioneers).
2. The age of conquests.
3. The age of commerce.
4. The age of affluence.
5. The age of intellect.
6. The age of decadence.
7. The age of decline and collapse.

The cycle of the Ages. Thanks.

 

[JimBowie1958]

When I was a young boy my grandfather, a half-Massawomeck Native American and veteran WW2 paratrooper pathfinder, would sometimes tell us these parable-like stories about yesteryear. Thing is he'd never tell them to us grandchildren directly, only to other present adults, however, we came to know these tales were really for us because he would tell them in a special volume of voice so we could all hear them too from out favorite corner of the kitchen behind the old wood stove. Two of his stories stand out in my memory, favorites among the rest.

Sometime during the 1960's, during the annual volunteer fireman's town carnival, dozens of members of the Pagan motorcycle gang descended on the festivities and set about causing all manner of mayhem including the looting of game booths, groping of local women—most of them wives of the town men—and otherwise turning what was perhaps the most anticipated yearly event in a town of less than two thousand people into a waking nightmare. The police department there at the time consisted of two officers: the chief and one patrol cop, both of whom had served in the Army with my grandfather. According to my grandfather, who has been gone for five years now, a group of town men gathered with the police chief, went home and armed themselves (many of the men including my grandfather had brought German or Japanese weapons home from the War), and then proceeded to engage the Pagans—first with words and shots over their heads and then ultimately with coordinated, precision fire. Apparently several of the Pagans were wounded and many of their motorcycles destroyed. Of course, my grandfather's version of the story was much more colorful and exciting. Funny thing about all of that? Many years later I ended up dating the daughter of the President of the Pagans. A man so full of integrity he once threatened to kill his daughter for not returning an expensive gift he had given her on her birthday. I guess some breeds of men never change . . .

The second story is very similar, I'll spare you all the details. Again a direct threat came to that same small town, only this time in the form of some kind of exotic wild goats escaped from a nearby circus, and once more the men of said town, along with my grandfather, banded together and killed the rampaging animals to the last. My favorite part of this story is my grandfather's description of one of his war buddies aiming down the sights at a wild goat, about how the man tracked the beast with the weapon's muzzle and did not fire until the beast leapt above a stand of grass far out in a local field. Shot it dead through the heart on the run . . .

The point of all this? A simple series of questions, really, I suppose. Where are the rest of the sons and grandsons of men like my grandfather and his WW2 buddies? What has become, what is becoming of the American man in our day and age? There was a time (so cliché sounding I know) when the American man, a majority of them perhaps, were ever at the ready to risk life and limb to defend the lives of their family and neighbors and communities from agents of chaos in any form. Whether or not to do so wasn't even a question. In short . . . what the fuck is wrong with most American men these days? You know I see those commercials online with men going on an on about shaving their balls so they'll be more appealing to the ladies and I can't help but wonder: can those boy-girls even find their testicles in the first place? I sure as hell hope so because both the Pagans and the wild circus goats have descended on all our small towns or they're about to.

You paint a picture too broadly.

There are many iron hard, stone hearted men in this country who will defend their local community.

They just dont talk about it much.

 

[OldLady]

both the Pagans and the wild circus goats have descended on all our small towns or they're about to.

What people are you referring to?

 

[night_son]

When I was a young boy my grandfather, a half-Massawomeck Native American and veteran WW2 paratrooper pathfinder, would sometimes tell us these parable-like stories about yesteryear. Thing is he'd never tell them to us grandchildren directly, only to other present adults, however, we came to know these tales were really for us because he would tell them in a special volume of voice so we could all hear them too from out favorite corner of the kitchen behind the old wood stove. Two of his stories stand out in my memory, favorites among the rest.

Sometime during the 1960's, during the annual volunteer fireman's town carnival, dozens of members of the Pagan motorcycle gang descended on the festivities and set about causing all manner of mayhem including the looting of game booths, groping of local women—most of them wives of the town men—and otherwise turning what was perhaps the most anticipated yearly event in a town of less than two thousand people into a waking nightmare. The police department there at the time consisted of two officers: the chief and one patrol cop, both of whom had served in the Army with my grandfather. According to my grandfather, who has been gone for five years now, a group of town men gathered with the police chief, went home and armed themselves (many of the men including my grandfather had brought German or Japanese weapons home from the War), and then proceeded to engage the Pagans—first with words and shots over their heads and then ultimately with coordinated, precision fire. Apparently several of the Pagans were wounded and many of their motorcycles destroyed. Of course, my grandfather's version of the story was much more colorful and exciting. Funny thing about all of that? Many years later I ended up dating the daughter of the President of the Pagans. A man so full of integrity he once threatened to kill his daughter for not returning an expensive gift he had given her on her birthday. I guess some breeds of men never change . . .

The second story is very similar, I'll spare you all the details. Again a direct threat came to that same small town, only this time in the form of some kind of exotic wild goats escaped from a nearby circus, and once more the men of said town, along with my grandfather, banded together and killed the rampaging animals to the last. My favorite part of this story is my grandfather's description of one of his war buddies aiming down the sights at a wild goat, about how the man tracked the beast with the weapon's muzzle and did not fire until the beast leapt above a stand of grass far out in a local field. Shot it dead through the heart on the run . . .

The point of all this? A simple series of questions, really, I suppose. Where are the rest of the sons and grandsons of men like my grandfather and his WW2 buddies? What has become, what is becoming of the American man in our day and age? There was a time (so cliché sounding I know) when the American man, a majority of them perhaps, were ever at the ready to risk life and limb to defend the lives of their family and neighbors and communities from agents of chaos in any form. Whether or not to do so wasn't even a question. In short . . . what the fuck is wrong with most American men these days? You know I see those commercials online with men going on an on about shaving their balls so they'll be more appealing to the ladies and I can't help but wonder: can those boy-girls even find their testicles in the first place? I sure as hell hope so because both the Pagans and the wild circus goats have descended on all our small towns or they're about to.

You paint a picture too broadly.

There are many iron hard, stone hearted men in this country who will defend their local community.

They just dont talk about it much.

Whilst I agree with you, have you interacted much with many young American men lately? There are a few good ones in every group but they are not the majority of their peer groups by any stretch of the imagination.

 

[night_son]

both the Pagans and the wild circus goats have descended on all our small towns or they're about to.

What people are you referring to?

Playing dumb as a highly intelligent person, which you are, will not get you admitted for half-price. But thanks anyway.

 

[Whodatsaywhodat.]

When I was a young boy my grandfather, a half-Massawomeck Native American and veteran WW2 paratrooper pathfinder, would sometimes tell us these parable-like stories about yesteryear. Thing is he'd never tell them to us grandchildren directly, only to other present adults, however, we came to know these tales were really for us because he would tell them in a special volume of voice so we could all hear them too from out favorite corner of the kitchen behind the old wood stove. Two of his stories stand out in my memory, favorites among the rest.

Sometime during the 1960's, during the annual volunteer fireman's town carnival, dozens of members of the Pagan motorcycle gang descended on the festivities and set about causing all manner of mayhem including the looting of game booths, groping of local women—most of them wives of the town men—and otherwise turning what was perhaps the most anticipated yearly event in a town of less than two thousand people into a waking nightmare. The police department there at the time consisted of two officers: the chief and one patrol cop, both of whom had served in the Army with my grandfather. According to my grandfather, who has been gone for five years now, a group of town men gathered with the police chief, went home and armed themselves (many of the men including my grandfather had brought German or Japanese weapons home from the War), and then proceeded to engage the Pagans—first with words and shots over their heads and then ultimately with coordinated, precision fire. Apparently several of the Pagans were wounded and many of their motorcycles destroyed. Of course, my grandfather's version of the story was much more colorful and exciting. Funny thing about all of that? Many years later I ended up dating the daughter of the President of the Pagans. A man so full of integrity he once threatened to kill his daughter for not returning an expensive gift he had given her on her birthday. I guess some breeds of men never change . . .

The second story is very similar, I'll spare you all the details. Again a direct threat came to that same small town, only this time in the form of some kind of exotic wild goats escaped from a nearby circus, and once more the men of said town, along with my grandfather, banded together and killed the rampaging animals to the last. My favorite part of this story is my grandfather's description of one of his war buddies aiming down the sights at a wild goat, about how the man tracked the beast with the weapon's muzzle and did not fire until the beast leapt above a stand of grass far out in a local field. Shot it dead through the heart on the run . . .

The point of all this? A simple series of questions, really, I suppose. Where are the rest of the sons and grandsons of men like my grandfather and his WW2 buddies? What has become, what is becoming of the American man in our day and age? There was a time (so cliché sounding I know) when the American man, a majority of them perhaps, were ever at the ready to risk life and limb to defend the lives of their family and neighbors and communities from agents of chaos in any form. Whether or not to do so wasn't even a question. In short . . . what the fuck is wrong with most American men these days? You know I see those commercials online with men going on an on about shaving their balls so they'll be more appealing to the ladies and I can't help but wonder: can those boy-girls even find their testicles in the first place? I sure as hell hope so because both the Pagans and the wild circus goats have descended on all our small towns or they're about to.

Well i believe there are quite a few out there yet. These anti american democrats are the worst of the worst , they are destroying big democrat cities. Time will tell if these vandals and thieves have the balls to come out to the sticks and burn our stuff down . I think not...

 

[OldLady]

both the Pagans and the wild circus goats have descended on all our small towns or they're about to.

What people are you referring to?

Playing dumb as a highly intelligent person, which you are, will not get you admitted for half-price. But thanks anyway.

Are you still chewing over that hair on fire rumor floating around social media earlier this week that the rioters were going to invade the suburbs? The attempts to keep that nonsense going is ... for what purpose? It wasn't true then and it is not true now.
If I've got it right, since you refuse to state it out loud.

 

[night_son]

both the Pagans and the wild circus goats have descended on all our small towns or they're about to.

What people are you referring to?

Playing dumb as a highly intelligent person, which you are, will not get you admitted for half-price. But thanks anyway.

Are you still chewing over that hair on fire rumor floating around social media earlier this week that the rioters were going to invade the suburbs? The attempts to keep that nonsense going is ... for what purpose? It wasn't true then and it is not true now.
If I've got it right, since you refuse to state it out loud.

Just venting, as usual.

 

[Natural Citizen]

As the silent generation dies off, so does the head-down kind of conformity that they lived by. It's a very good topic, actually.

 

[Asclepias]

both the Pagans and the wild circus goats have descended on all our small towns or they're about to.

What people are you referring to?

Playing dumb as a highly intelligent person, which you are, will not get you admitted for half-price. But thanks anyway.

Are you still chewing over that hair on fire rumor floating around social media earlier this week that the rioters were going to invade the suburbs? The attempts to keep that nonsense going is ... for what purpose? It wasn't true then and it is not true now.
If I've got it right, since you refuse to state it out loud.

He no doubt pissed his pants. Its always the ones talking the loudest on the internet that are actually in mommys basement somewhere shaking in fear.

 

[anynameyouwish]

When I was a young boy my grandfather, a half-Massawomeck Native American and veteran WW2 paratrooper pathfinder, would sometimes tell us these parable-like stories about yesteryear. Thing is he'd never tell them to us grandchildren directly, only to other present adults, however, we came to know these tales were really for us because he would tell them in a special volume of voice so we could all hear them too from out favorite corner of the kitchen behind the old wood stove. Two of his stories stand out in my memory, favorites among the rest.

Sometime during the 1960's, during the annual volunteer fireman's town carnival, dozens of members of the Pagan motorcycle gang descended on the festivities and set about causing all manner of mayhem including the looting of game booths, groping of local women—most of them wives of the town men—and otherwise turning what was perhaps the most anticipated yearly event in a town of less than two thousand people into a waking nightmare. The police department there at the time consisted of two officers: the chief and one patrol cop, both of whom had served in the Army with my grandfather. According to my grandfather, who has been gone for five years now, a group of town men gathered with the police chief, went home and armed themselves (many of the men including my grandfather had brought German or Japanese weapons home from the War), and then proceeded to engage the Pagans—first with words and shots over their heads and then ultimately with coordinated, precision fire. Apparently several of the Pagans were wounded and many of their motorcycles destroyed. Of course, my grandfather's version of the story was much more colorful and exciting. Funny thing about all of that? Many years later I ended up dating the daughter of the President of the Pagans. A man so full of integrity he once threatened to kill his daughter for not returning an expensive gift he had given her on her birthday. I guess some breeds of men never change . . .

The second story is very similar, I'll spare you all the details. Again a direct threat came to that same small town, only this time in the form of some kind of exotic wild goats escaped from a nearby circus, and once more the men of said town, along with my grandfather, banded together and killed the rampaging animals to the last. My favorite part of this story is my grandfather's description of one of his war buddies aiming down the sights at a wild goat, about how the man tracked the beast with the weapon's muzzle and did not fire until the beast leapt above a stand of grass far out in a local field. Shot it dead through the heart on the run . . .

The point of all this? A simple series of questions, really, I suppose. Where are the rest of the sons and grandsons of men like my grandfather and his WW2 buddies? What has become, what is becoming of the American man in our day and age? There was a time (so cliché sounding I know) when the American man, a majority of them perhaps, were ever at the ready to risk life and limb to defend the lives of their family and neighbors and communities from agents of chaos in any form. Whether or not to do so wasn't even a question. In short . . . what the fuck is wrong with most American men these days? You know I see those commercials online with men going on an on about shaving their balls so they'll be more appealing to the ladies and I can't help but wonder: can those boy-girls even find their testicles in the first place? I sure as hell hope so because both the Pagans and the wild circus goats have descended on all our small towns or they're about to.

Most people under 30 are so ignorant they no longer remember the greatness of the WWII generation

They have been brainwashed to only remember segregation

my father went to europe to fight and kill fascists

it may come to that here in the USA!

personally I have NO PROBLEM with the systematic elimination of EVIL PEOPLE who would destroy our country!

 

[OldLady]

When I was a young boy my grandfather, a half-Massawomeck Native American and veteran WW2 paratrooper pathfinder, would sometimes tell us these parable-like stories about yesteryear. Thing is he'd never tell them to us grandchildren directly, only to other present adults, however, we came to know these tales were really for us because he would tell them in a special volume of voice so we could all hear them too from out favorite corner of the kitchen behind the old wood stove. Two of his stories stand out in my memory, favorites among the rest.

Sometime during the 1960's, during the annual volunteer fireman's town carnival, dozens of members of the Pagan motorcycle gang descended on the festivities and set about causing all manner of mayhem including the looting of game booths, groping of local women—most of them wives of the town men—and otherwise turning what was perhaps the most anticipated yearly event in a town of less than two thousand people into a waking nightmare. The police department there at the time consisted of two officers: the chief and one patrol cop, both of whom had served in the Army with my grandfather. According to my grandfather, who has been gone for five years now, a group of town men gathered with the police chief, went home and armed themselves (many of the men including my grandfather had brought German or Japanese weapons home from the War), and then proceeded to engage the Pagans—first with words and shots over their heads and then ultimately with coordinated, precision fire. Apparently several of the Pagans were wounded and many of their motorcycles destroyed. Of course, my grandfather's version of the story was much more colorful and exciting. Funny thing about all of that? Many years later I ended up dating the daughter of the President of the Pagans. A man so full of integrity he once threatened to kill his daughter for not returning an expensive gift he had given her on her birthday. I guess some breeds of men never change . . .

The second story is very similar, I'll spare you all the details. Again a direct threat came to that same small town, only this time in the form of some kind of exotic wild goats escaped from a nearby circus, and once more the men of said town, along with my grandfather, banded together and killed the rampaging animals to the last. My favorite part of this story is my grandfather's description of one of his war buddies aiming down the sights at a wild goat, about how the man tracked the beast with the weapon's muzzle and did not fire until the beast leapt above a stand of grass far out in a local field. Shot it dead through the heart on the run . . .

The point of all this? A simple series of questions, really, I suppose. Where are the rest of the sons and grandsons of men like my grandfather and his WW2 buddies? What has become, what is becoming of the American man in our day and age? There was a time (so cliché sounding I know) when the American man, a majority of them perhaps, were ever at the ready to risk life and limb to defend the lives of their family and neighbors and communities from agents of chaos in any form. Whether or not to do so wasn't even a question. In short . . . what the fuck is wrong with most American men these days? You know I see those commercials online with men going on an on about shaving their balls so they'll be more appealing to the ladies and I can't help but wonder: can those boy-girls even find their testicles in the first place? I sure as hell hope so because both the Pagans and the wild circus goats have descended on all our small towns or they're about to.

Most people under 30 are so ignorant they no longer remember the greatness of the WWII generation

They have been brainwashed to only remember segregation

my father went to europe to fight and kill fascists

it may come to that here in the USA!

personally I have NO PROBLEM with the systematic elimination of EVIL PEOPLE who would destroy our country!

Spoken like a true fascist.