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The Danger of Believing in Fairytales

t is a tradition at performances of Peter Pan for the whole audience to affirm their belief in fairies at the end of the performance. And the tradition seems charmingly childlike and positive.  Surely no harm comes from that.  But it is not so good to take that belief out of the theatre with you.

The real world is full of hard choices and evil people who are not so easily defeated as Captain Hook. And when we face them we need to  make clear eyed adult choices.  The choices we face with regard to  dealing with  Islamofascist terrorists are like the choices  we face on a diagnosis of cancer.

You go to see your doctor because of a sharp pain here or there and some discomfort.  You go in for the  recommended colonoscopy or mammogram.  You haven't been feeling really great, but you haven't been feeling really bad, not at all.  You hoped the doctor would prescribe a pill or two and send you on your way.

Instead,  your doctor tells you you have cancer.  And he says, here are your choices-- go on with your life and feel progressively worse over a short period of time and then die prematurely in great pain,  or have a painful surgery right now, followed by chemotherapy that makes  you sick and makes all your hair fall out and face a reasonably good prospect of a cure and a much longer life. I have known many people who have faced that choice and nearly all of them choose to undergo the immediate pain, discomfort and nausea-- not to mention the monetary cost--  of surgery and treatment as the price they have to pay for a longer life.

Those are the choices we, as a nation, faced, on September 12, 2001.  Islamofascism is a cancer on the world.  It has already invaded and taken over whole countries like Afghanistan, Iran and Somalia.  The doctor at the  Whitehouse has told us what our options are and we chose the right one but now, like a bunch of angry teenagers,  a large number in our midst have begun to hate the doctor for all the pain he is inflicting on us, forgetting that that pain is the price for our freedom and our long term security. 

In the meantime there is a party out there that takes advantage of the human desire to avoid pain by selling the public a bunch of fairytales.  Like so many snakeoil salesmen they tell us they point out that before the surgery we were feeling pretty good, after all and now we are feeling way worse than we did when we went into the hospital.  "We never should have tried to fight this cancer", they tell us. "It was a bad idea" they tell us.  "It wasn't cancer".  They tell us.  "just a benign and peaceful tumor that wouldn't harm anyone."  In our hearts and guts we know that what they are saying is not true, but like rebellious teenagers, some of us hate the doctor for inflicting the only known cure.

We need to keep going back to the basics of the war.  Our options are 1) a long and painful fight which we might not win or 2) letting the Islamofascists take over the world without a fight.  The idea that Osamas and Al Zarqaqwis  will just stop fighting if we leave them alone is about as realistic as believing that your cancer will go away if you take a lot of vitamins and believe in a cure. 
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Fearing the Future

There are a lot of words to describe who I am, but right now I am a grandma who loves her one and only grandson more than she can say.  I look at the absolutely cutest two year old in the world and I wonder what kind of world he will come to adulthood in.  I recall that I was born during the Second Great War.  We forget that in 1943 the Americans didn't know we were going to win.  They had lost half of the Pacific fleet at Pearl Harbor.  They had lost battle after battle.  My father had already been drafted and was sent to Italy to fight.  There was no guarantee he would come back. 

The deaths we see in Iraq and Afghanistan are minor compared to the deaths in that war.  But I see the raging left giving aid and comfort to the enemies of this great nation and I wonder what kind of world they are making for my grandson. 

While getting rid of old files today I came across a file on which my former secretary, and niece, had written the then new address of her childhood friend, then in the army in Iraq.  Sgt Milton Monzon Jr., died July 24, 2005 in Bagdad from an I. E. D. exploding under his Bradley Armored Vehicle. 

His mother was devastated by his death.  His father was brave and told us all how much he loved his country and how much he belived in what he was fighting for.  Will that war spread and still be going on when my grandson is old enough to fight?

The willful ignorance of the left, the dillydallying in Europe, all the gameplaying of the Russians all add up to another conflagration. 

Are we in the "phony war"-- that time period after war had been declared but Hitler had not yet invaded France? 

Will we ever learn that you can't negotiate with madmen?  A grandmother wants to know.
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