Defining moments are the lightning strikes of history. At times, the sudden flash of illumination passes to leave a smoking crater in the ground. So it was this past week with kerfuffle as the President’s opposition attempted, as is tiresome and usual, to spin one of his comments into a thread of advantageous narrative.
Mara Salvatrucha, composed largely of Salvadoran, Honduran, and Guatemalan thugs, are more commonly referred to as the notorious MS-13 gang. They are also a focus of immigration enforcement in the current administration. Their repertoire of people smuggling, robbery, larceny, human trafficking, extortion, murder, money laundering, prostitution (including child prostitution), racketeering, battery, kidnapping, and arms trafficking is international in scope. The premise that these bipedal targets care little for the rule of law as it relates to national borders is extrapolated from their demonstrated disdain for every other aspect of civilization.
So, when President Trump referred to them as animals, following his characteristic rhetorical idiom, the man’s political opposition jumped on another perceived opportunity to occupy unearned moral high ground and pander to an assumed voter base. It’s unlikely that the members of MS-13 are politically active to the point of voting. Regardless, if so their support for Democrats indeed would be expected. As with most positions of the political Left, though, imagining this stretches the boundaries of sanity, much less common sense.
True to form in competing with the man his country elected to oppose them, the blue cancer in our American political system as a result suffered another in a long and wonderful series of setbacks. Defining moments. Lightning. Smoking crater in the ground. Repeat as necessary, natural law whispers.
Leftists exist as a result of efforts from better folk. Strong people, as the cycle of history shows, produce good times. The vagaries of human nature ensure good times produce a preponderance of weak people, who afterward enable the bad times producing a saving number of leaders and doers to tow their fellows out of the ideological morass of extended, and afterward institutionalized, false premises. So do good times reappear … for awhile, at least.
Following its part in these processes, the Democratic Party found itself in the same week twice defending Nancy Pelosi’s feigned outrage. Once, it was over purported disrespect shown the “divine spark” present in members of deceased Hamas terrorists littering the border between Gaza and Israel, and again prompted by his denigrating a criminal gang whose members are documented to have killed a man’s family in front of him using a chainsaw. The apparent lack in comprehension of essential concepts marking an appreciated differentiation between philosophical alternatives has seldom been so starkly displayed.
Writing purposefully in vehicles of fiction as I do, contrasting the state of humanity and its antithesis is a constant. The guiding philosophies of my actors and the consequences of their decisions comprise the supporting structure of more than a dozen novels to date. Humans are found there, and animals in human form:
Muhammad Qasim al-Khafji dedicated to a faulted vision of revelation.
His brother Omar Ali served himself in the indulgence of revenge.
Abdur-Razzaq ibn Ali ruthlessly pursued power.
Ubayd Syed Sulayman made a more honorable man a prisoner for advantage.
Yameen Amjad al-Khobar and Mikhail Ivanovich Smolin chose greed.
Minister Liu Chunwang assumed highest the authority of his Central Committee.
Valka Gerard valued too much the same ideology of accumulated power.
Colonel Berislav Borojevic fully embraced ends justifying means.
Maxim Osip Kakhovsky made death a profession in a living world.
Nasir Murad Houthi yielded to a voice declaring him an arbiter of judgment.
To call them animals is a rhetorical device. I’ve known animals with souls. I saw that of G. Gordon Kitty through its windows, while he was sitting on my chest doing the same with me. I’ve known people whose lack of attendance to their essential questions generated the amalgam of decadence manifesting in my ability to write a despicable antagonist. They are not animals, but vessels of a corroding soul; indeed a spark of the divine, if only in the sense that they risk enduring forever the sentence of righteously rendered judgment.
The stewardship to which we were commissioned involves edification of upright folk and the management of those who refuse to take up the attributes of humanity: validation of the effort having gone into our appearance. Humanity is a cause taken up to hold and not an inheritance; it is, as faith, the evidence of things unseen.
To see, often we first need to look. Since trilobites scrounged the beds of primordial seas, creatures have acted on the information at hand to good and bad results. Humanity descends from clarity, the farsighted vision to which one’s ears also contribute. Clarity remains free from the deceptions of optics, engineered steering toward a deceptive narrative so often strategized by those whose obsession is to direct the lives of others.
To see what is, one must perceive the natural order accurately: One’s God and Creator, followed by allegiances to righteous government descending from his delegated principles and bestowed rights, followed by the love of family given to ordering and propagating healthy and vital society. It is a prioritization, in descent, of dedication.
Dismissing a slow-to-anger Divinity and replacing His authority with the self or the state comprises the sin of usurpation. As with all others, it pays in death rather than whatever other currency—power, pleasure, or plunder—is promised.
To be human is to tend the soul. Humanity manifests in undertaking a long work of life, one founded, as is that of our Source, in love when the alternatives are indifference and hate, a premise presented in my character Jon Anthony’s enduring tripartite.
The first assessment you should make of another human being is whether they truly are alive, or merely living. As I saw in Gordon, the eyes are where one may go for that, being the lamps of the body as Jesus taught in Matthew 6:22-23:
(22) “The eye is the lamp of the body. If your eyes are healthy, your whole body will be full of light. (23) But if your eyes are unhealthy, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light within you is darkness, how great is that darkness!”
Seeking guidance for the maintenance of one’s soul, the undertaking we generalize as the attribute of humanity, is the business of the spirit. Its gravitation toward the Creator is engineered, and the lifelong circle it travels homeward is an irresistible beckoning and destiny awaiting us each and every one. Some arrive to that court finding their shortcomings compensated by grace, while others encounter only the judgment reserved for the downside of free will. Enabling the choice of love through embrace of its rivals, those culpable find their unwilling place in a perfect plan to have been acting as the load-bearing work making His righteous souls strong. What lasts is best, and we have its promise from Paul in 1 Corinthians 13:13:
“And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.”
Life is found there, and in knowing this the dullest spark among us may share that much of the mind of God. Hold out your hope for them, for that is what will bring you joy … and the fulfillment of your treasure of true humanity.
Choose to love, -DA
In production news, the fifth title of Boone’s File, A Garden in Russia, is approaching the halfway point in production editing and remains on schedule for a September release. Nearly every surviving character you remember from chronologically previous titles is there—contesting for the democratic process during a constitutional crisis in the Russian Federation—as the series approaches Maximum Boone in epic fashion. Our redheaded spitfire and dynamo of resilient feminine strength wouldn’t have it any other way.