Heyyy! Managed to balance two mountains of paperwork long enough to dive between them for a little break. Highly recommended: the latest essay from Angelo Codevilla, who should probably be America’s most important writer these days. He popularized the term “the Ruling Class”.
I like that he doesn’t capitalize us, the Ruling Class’s bête noir*. He settled on “country class”, which works for me on most levels. Alas, that phrase isn’t going to catch on fire.
Why? Why, ‘cause I’m the epitome of country class, pardner. I am pure barefoot mullet Marlboro NASCAR “g”-droppin’, fish-floppin’, gravy-soppin’, bar-hoppin’ gun-poppin’ class. Son, I got country class out the wazoo.
Yeah. Good luck getting big-city libertarians and classic liberals to be painted with the “country” brush. And we need those folks; they’re our forward observers.
Of course, I don’t yet have a better name for La Résistance. This site likes “Gadsden-Americans”, but that’s obviously too esoteric for today’s Low Information Voter. But then, so is everything else. So why not just have fun?
The “Get the Hell Off of My Lawn!” Movement
Ooooh, how about the “Give Me Liberty or Give You Death!” Party?
Anyway, I do know what to call our freedom-fightin’ Special Forces: The Cold, Dead Hands.
(*Bête noir: literally, “black beast”; something especially hateful or dreadful. You know. Things that make you go “aaaarrrrgggggghhhhh!”)