I
had driven almost 800 miles to be part of history. Think about it. 2 MILLION
bikers converging on one place to insure that the sanctity and solemnity of
9/11 be kept out of the hands of those who would try to dilute and pervert the
memory of all those who had lost their lives that horrid day. One million
Muslims were NOT going to stand in the shadow of our nation's capital and
complain that they have been treated unfairly. Let them try to burn the flag
and they'll find out what a biker's boot feels like three feet up their ass.
Even that would be fair. No, there weren't going to be any Muslim protests on
9/11, here or anywhere else, not on American soil. From the moment I heard that
2 million bikers would descend on DC I knew I had to be there, to be the eyes
and ears for those who might otherwise never know. Everyone knew the major news
networks were going to ignore the event, because it didn't fit in with the
Progressive agenda. I had friends who were considered news hounds, and they
hadn't seen a single thing on CBS, ABC, NBC, CNN or FOX. Airing such stuff
would threaten the vise-like grip the Regime had over the average citizen. Let
one million Muslims parade through the streets of Washington DC, waving their
jihad flag and burning effigies of Uncle Sam, and the State-run media would
have wall to wall coverage, showing us in our living rooms how repressed and
persecuted those poor Muslims were, how they were being unfairly treated, and
how ok it was that they let off a little steam on what would otherwise be a
Muslim hating day.
You
know, I wasn't really upset at the Muzzies who planned on protesting the next
day. At least they were being true to themselves. At least we knew what to
expect from them. Most dogs can't fool you into thinking they're a cat. The
ones I had a major problem with were the evil bastards slinking around the
halls of Congress and in the White House pretending to be good shepherds. There
were wolves all up in the pasture because our politicians have sent flyers to every
last wolf community saying there was a free buffet going on, just follow the
spotlights rotating in the sky. The average sheeple on the street, one ones who
have had the wool pulled over their eyes, would gasp and recoil at such a
notion. "Why, our leaders would never let anything bad happen to us! We
have a government that's FOR the people!" I've got news for you, sweet
bleat. The power players in DC want to
OWN us, they want us to be good little lambs who will run to them at the first
sign of trouble. They want to tell us what to eat, what to wear, what to drive,
what to say, what to think, when to have babies and when not to, when to laugh
and cry, where to go, who to vote for, who to like and who to hate. Babycakes,
our own precious, innocent government will even let bad things happen - will
even MAKE bad things happen - to us just so we can cower deeper into its all
encompassing skirt. There are wolves in the pasture to distract us from the
guys rebuilding the stable back home.
I
thought about these things as I sat in my car across the street from the Fort
Washington Harley-Davidson dealership. I had spoken to the manager and gotten
permission to crash here for the night, but had to move from my spot beside the
building as they had to rope it off in anticipation of the coming horde of
bikers. I watched them tape off the perimeter of the building as the riders who
had gotten there earlier scattered to motels and camp grounds throughout the
area. Soon the showroom lights were off and the employees struck out for their
homes to get some rest before the big day tomorrow. I sat there in my car and thought
about things as the hot September sun slowly crept toward the horizon.
It
was hard to imagine two million motorcycles in this parking lot, and harder
still to imagine them rolling as one machine down Pennsylvania Avenue in front
of the White House. This wasn't going to be just a response to the Muslim
protest, this was going to send a message to the cheating, lying, stealing
sonsabitches cowering in their congressional offices that the PEOPLE are the
ones with the power, and if we wanted to we could run every last one of their
sorry asses out on a rail. As I sat there listening to the faint rumble of
semis on the Beltline encircling DC and imagining what two million motorcycles
would sound like (yes, just like rolling thunder!), it struck me. What would
happen if two million TRUCKERS were to descend on the capital? What would
happen to the corrupt engine of government if just for one day truckers refused
to haul their loads, leaving their trailers on off-ramps and highways and
warehouses and overpasses to drive to Washington DC and roll down Constitution
Avenue with their airhorns blaring? Mix in a couple million bikers, a few
hundred thousand disaffected and overtaxed taxi drivers, a smattering of dump
trucks and every underpaid pizza delivery guy in a three state area, and THEN
what would happen? The truckers alone, with or without their trailers, would
absolutely paralyze commerce.
What
if we all went on strike until the Constitution were restored, until the
government once again represented the will OF THE PEOPLE, until those bastards
lifted their grimy boots off our Bill of Rights, until they let capitalism
work, until they left us ALONE? We can take care of each other until then if we
had to because we would want to, because we are to love our neighbor as
ourselves, because we're sick and tired of being sick and tired. As darkness
spread across the land, I sat in my car and imagined the possibilities. As if
in answer to my ponderings, a line of semis rolled by me, rattling my windows
and my conscience.
To
be Continued...
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