President Obama just does not understand Americans. He thinks of us as Europeans, Chinese, Japanese, Mexicans, etc. We are not, we are the descendants of those people. That means something different.
Imagine, if you will, your ancestors that came over here. Most were poor, a few were, say, the second or third son of the wealthy, who would not inherit the big house and title, if any. They were given a sum of money and sent here to make their own way. Actually, they weren't sent, they could have stayed, made their way in business or just living off their father's wealth.
Whatever, your grandfathers and grandmothers were safely ensconced somewhere when the local Duke decided he needed soldiers for the latest pointless war, or the local Earl wanted to raise taxes, or the Bishop decided your religion wasn't right or the crops failed. Maybe the cossacks rode through the village one too many times, making the mud streets red with blood. Maybe some weird disease killed all the potatoes and the English landlords just let folks starve, maybe whatever it was that got the Scandahoovians on the move happened to your grandparents, whatever it was, people started moving towards the seaports and they got on some rattletrap, overcrowded boat.
Everyone didn't come. The cowards never started, the weak died along the way. It was the daring and the gamblers that came. Imagine your ancestors. Maybe they were in Poland, maybe Norway or China. Things aren't going well but if you knuckle your forehead to "your betters" you will probably survive. Or you can walk to the seaport, sometimes for hundreds of miles, taking only what you can carry or maybe you are lucky enough to have a wheelbarrow or even a horse and cart. Chances are, you won't have much at all.
You don't exactly know where you are going, only to "Golden America". That's what they called it in Poland and the rest of eastern Europe. Golden America! You don't speak the language, know anyone but a cousin who is a tailor in New York City or went to Kansas and was given land. Land! For generations your family has farmed the same plot of land and the Duke has taken the lion's share of your crops while your hut still has a dirt floor. Land! Of your own! No landlord, no Duke to drag you into his regiment. Land, of your own. Or a chance to start your own business, without the Earl taking everything. A chance to watch your sons and daughters grow up free and proud!
And they came. They came by the thousands and the millions, to both coasts. The Swensons, the O'Haras, the Afanasiefs, the Handas and Hagans and Chriss and Changs, the Poles with unpronounceable names. The Italians and the Swiss, all of those people leaving everything they owned to come to Golden America. Thousands died getting here. Thousands more died staying here. I'm told that there are at least three now unmarked graves per mile on the old Oregon Trail, but still they came. They filled the eastern cities, they filled Kansas and Nebraska, the Dakotas. They filled Kentucky and Tennessee with riflemen. And still they came. They built the railroads, they mined the mountains. They cleared the farms that still feed the world.
Meanwhile their brothers and sisters stayed, stayed to die in Europe's pointless wars, ending in WW1 and WW2. During all those wars the cream of Europe's youth died. We ask ourselves "why do the French seem so cowardly when it comes to world affairs?" Simple enough, the bravest of the French died in Napoleon's Army, they died in the trenches of WW1, hundreds of thousands more died in WW2. So, who was left to breed? Not the adventurous, they came to Canada and America. Not the brave, they died in the wars.
Even the other colonies, Canada and Australia were bled white during the two world Wars. Far worse than we were, we Americans learned our lessons in the Civil War. We use a barrage of artillery instead of a company of troops whenever we can. Other counties send a platoon of Infantry, we send a platoon of Armored Cavalry, any chance we get. That's just the way we roll. It's one of the reasons we can still fight, we've taken better care of our fighting men.
But, I digress. Obama doesn't know Americans. He spent his formative years in Indonesia. Then he was sent to live with his communist grandparents and spent so much time with that black communist child molester, Frank something. Funny, though, when Obama got out of college he moved to immerse himself in the only group that didn't come to America by their own free will. Someone better educated than I, or at least more interested, might someday study that. Perhaps that is one of the reasons that black America stays so far behind. We can see that some black Americans have cut loose from the old like our ancestors did, the Sears, roebuck Company proves that, as well as many others, but the majority stays mired in their comfortable old swamps of cities. Like Chicago.
Obama just doesn't understand what will happen when his new slavery hits America. Can you imagine what will happen when the grandsons of the feuding McCoys or Hatfields have to let their parents or daughter die because some low level clerk in the Ministry of Health says their treatment will cost too much? Do the Obamas and the Reids and Pelosis really think the sons and daughters of Americans will take their ire out on those low level clerks? Or will Americans come after the people who caused this?
No, Madame Pelosi, the insurance companies are not the problem. You are. No, Mr. Obama, the Republican Party is not paying us TEA Party types. Your ridicule won't stop us. We are not afraid of Ron Emanuel, nor are we afraid of The Outfit of Chicago. What you see, Mr. Obama, is the America of December the eighth, 1941. We are shaking ourselves awake and the more we waken, the angrier we get. You have your choice, Mr. Obama. You can lead America into the greatness we have built or you can be Hamburg or Berlin, 1945. It's up to yopu, Mr. Obama. You asked for the job. You got the job. Now, how about, for the first time in your life, doing the job?
This is still Golden America. My several times great grandparents are screaming from their graves over what you are doing to the country they helped build. All over the country, all of our ancestors are screaming. Listen to them, Mr. Obama, listen before it is too late.
Update: Just so you know, the line about "the cowards never started, the weak died along the way" is not original. I don't remember where I read it, probably in a Louis L'Amour novel, he had a way with words. It might have been someone else, it was not me. Whoever wrote it where I remember it probably was not the first. All of the big trails are littered with now unmarked graves. The graves of emigrants, the graves of cowboys, the graves of merchants and the outlaws that preyed on them, the graves of the Indians who tried to save their lands. And the graves of those Mormons who crossed a third of the country with everything they could take with them in a handcart.