I think I ought to finally admit something that I have been holding to my chest for numerous winters: I was bullied. I’ve held this confidential in the deepest furrows of my mind, not because I don’t want to be reminded of the physical pain that my bullies inflicted on me or really because of anything the bullies did to me; rather, I shudder at the mere utterance of an echo of these moments because of what I saw in the eyes of those around me. Not the hate in the bullies that I saw while they were punting me across the room like a football or spraying me with water like I was a cat; rather, I feared looking into the eyes of the onlookers and on-goers: brown terror with green–colored blades of indifference, oceans of blue complicity, and a fireplace of collaboration. Sometimes, I even saw an abyss when I looked into the eyes of the onlookers; there was nothing to discern in their expressions, and I couldn’t even tell if they were looking at me. It was like they didn’t recognize me. When I got a chance to breathe, I sent out what I could: a flare, a siren, or a distress signal, but there was not a single hand. The bears eviscerated me whilst all others ran or hid like rats, and what pests they truly were.
What was the difference between the neutrals and the bullies⸮ Rather, what was their relationship⸮ It was a relationship of complicity, of collaboration, and of sympathy. Who is worse between a murderer and the people who avert their eyes to avoid seeing the uncomfortable murder act thereby enabling continued murder–tyranny⸮ I’ve concluded that neutral pests are merely lesser accomplices in every case, for, while they don’t necessarily help bullies, they don’t
aid the fight against bullies which, therefore, allows things that would not otherwise happen to happen. Everything that happens only happens because people allow it to or don’t do enough to stop it. I was bullied because no one stood up for me, baby Hitler still lived because time travelers didn’t try hard enough to kill him, and Stephanie continues her reign of terror because no one has pulled the trigger on her yet. Everything that hasn’t happened can be stopped with the force of man. Thereafter and so-forth I became committed towards the ending of the individual islands that exist in our minds as mirages that make us believe that we are all individuals in the human ocean. What, then, could you have imagined when I rRealized there was a whole class of “people” who have developed a fictitious political theory about closing off the United States from the world? It was nothing but sheer fury in the face of bold idiocy. After all, what are imperialist countries but big bullies⸮
What was the difference between the neutrals and the bullies⸮ Rather, what was their relationship⸮ It was a relationship of complicity, of collaboration, and of sympathy. Who is worse between a murderer and the people who avert their eyes to avoid seeing the uncomfortable murder act thereby enabling continued murder–tyranny⸮ I’ve concluded that neutral pests are merely lesser accomplices in every case, for, while they don’t necessarily help bullies, they don’t
aid the fight against bullies which, therefore, allows things that would not otherwise happen to happen. Everything that happens only happens because people allow it to or don’t do enough to stop it. I was bullied because no one stood up for me, baby Hitler still lived because time travelers didn’t try hard enough to kill him, and Stephanie continues her reign of terror because no one has pulled the trigger on her yet. Everything that hasn’t happened can be stopped with the force of man. Thereafter and so-forth I became committed towards the ending of the individual islands that exist in our minds as mirages that make us believe that we are all individuals in the human ocean. What, then, could you have imagined when I rRealized there was a whole class of “people” who have developed a fictitious political theory about closing off the United States from the world? It was nothing but sheer fury in the face of bold idiocy. After all, what are imperialist countries but big bullies⸮
I generally, avoid looking up to people who are dead. They are in the ground and I am not. I cannot physically look up to them. In another sense, though, I do not like having an opinion on what has already happened; rather, I try to accept what has happened and focus my full–force on a reaction. Still, I can’t help but to find myself besotted with two dead people: Jesus and Franklin D. Roosevelt. There truly isn’t that big of a difference between them. Jesus delivered us from evil and will come back on the last day to cleanse the world of sin. Roosevelt, too, delivered us, hand in hand, from the plague of isolationism that faced the United States in the 20th century, and he too will descend from heaven in his wheelchair shining a glorious light of red, white, and blue to cleanse the world in a flashbang of freedom from the last tyranny on earth. I can’t wait for the resurrection. You might say, ''But Josue, isn’t this idolatry? Won't this blasphemy cast you into the lake of fire where all evils are punched and the damned lay in wait for the battle of armageddon which will decide the fate of the Kingdom of God and his children? Have you truly taken the mark of the beast?'' To that I have to say this: if you are anyone who knows anything, you would know that the founding fathers are the true gods and that Americans have been their chosen people ever since George Washington ascended into heaven and delivered unto Jefferson the Ten Amendments which we must keep every day or else insidious Albion will rise and the Brittons will take away our guns, and we definitely can't risk that or else we might not be in a good enough position to fight the last armies of tyranny at the final tolling of the bell."
I am convinced that isolationism is the work of the devil. When you think about it, it makes total sense; the devil wants us to forget that we are all the children of God, so he separates us through the work of isolationism. What’s more, is that isolationism has caused the most misery out of any single thing because of its role in permitting tyranny across the world. All this to say that all isolationists will burn in hell where they belong for contributing to the oppression of people across the globe. Hence why Roosevelt is a Christ–like figure to me. Much as Jesus Christ had to fight the influences of lechery and debauchery on the Israelites, Roosevelt faced insurmountable sorts of devil–worshipers: the idiots who believe that international affairs are not of their concern, the mentally deranged lunatics who think that influencing international politics is immoral or that every war is an absolute evil, the absolute sociopaths who believe wars should be avoided for the purpose of maintaining economic growth, and the collaborators and sympathizers who opposed American involvement in World War II because they supported the nazi empire. I’m going to say what no one else has the confidence to say: these people should lose the right to vote, and Charles Lindbergh should have gotten dragged out of his New Jersey palace and decapitated then buried in an unmarked grave just like his wretched baby for his Nazi sympathies.
Franklin Delano Roosevelt, though he could not stand, was the first American soul to step foot on the light outside of the shade of the enormous storm above them. The rats spoke to his people tand said “Do not follow him, he’ll destroy this country with reckless abandon,” but Roosevelt moved with rhythmic confidence, and his words beckoned them forth. He told them that they had nothing to fear, that there is strength in plurality, and that he would not take another step forward without every single one of his people behind him. He held a torch in one hand, and on the other, he held the hand of Elanor. Elanor held the hand of James, James held the hand of a coal miner, the coal miner held the hand of a banker, the banker held the hand of a refugee and so on until, at the end of the line, there stood, for the first time, the rats. It was a glorious liberty ribbon that looped, zigzagged, and stretched in a line–ish long enough to encircle the earth…ten times. Each of Roosevelt’s steps was followed the by step of a two hundred million adults, a hundred million children, and fifty million pets; all of America walked together with all of the reckless abandon that they could muster, and each of Roosevelt’s steps was followed by by a thunderous applause of locomotion; they walked with the voice of God. Every western man, woman, child, and pet behind him, Roosevelt started the funeral march, but it wouldn’t be the funeral of anyone marching, no; instead, it would be the funeral of tyranny. They heaved and huffed together; it was the largest battering ram ever created.
Together, they stepped foot on the bridge to Europe; it nearly buckled, but could have withstanded ten times the weight. Not for any marvel of engineering did the bridge withstand the weight, but for the fact that the marchers’ spirits were high and souls were as light as a feather They took each step together, though not in unison, no one was left behind. The water was a rough torrent, which nearly made the chain buckle, but they withstood. “The bridge can withstand as violent waves as were possible,” Roosevelt reminded them. He repeated: “the only thing that can buckle is you.” Now, with the fear of nothing in their hearts, they withstood the gust of wind that would have torn Babylon apart. It was for their strength in unison that no one faltered. Now, the cold of the ocean was strong, but they were far stronger. They shared body warmth, conserved energy, and learned to wear the same coat. They marched for many revolutions, but each step made them stronger. They marched. They marched. They marched. They marched until they reached Berlin, leaving liberty behind them. It was the return of the exiles of the ages, the greatest welcome home party ever, and the best conga–line ever. They marched, until they reached what they were after: the heart of tyranny. Franklin Delano Roosevelt started; he geared his fist back, and everyone followed. Then, at once, in the most unified motion possible, they punched the Fuhrer until there was nothing left but as. Such was the exodus of America from isolationism, but some want to follow their follies back under the storm, back into chains.
I say that isolationism is a folly because it is completely unsustainable and illogical, and, frankly, anyone who believes that isolationism is workable is a complete moron and should consider throwing themselves off of the Empire State Building. More specifically, isolationism is completely irrelevant and non-feasible because technological advancements make it untenable. Technological advancement, horse and buggy to steamboat and airplane, have made the world intrinsically interconnected socially and economically. For example, a train derailment in South Korea may cause an increase in phone costs in Finland, a flood in Peru may increase the price of potatoes in Ireland, and a war in Ukraine will increase the price of bread in America which caused a Speaker to lose her majority in the House of Representatives. Furthermore, a video of beheading in Iraq could be traumatizing to a young child surfing the internet for the first time in 2016, a crackdown on the freedom of speech in Hungary can stress out a boy and remind him of the danger of growing to confident in the endurance of democracy, and a girl getting denied her education in Afghanistan can prevent her from going to a college and developing a career in biotechnology which would result in the discovery of the cure to cancer. Technology has sown the world closer together, and people who believe that they could not be bothered by something that is physically distant fails to understand the spiritual closeness between all people.
Isolationism comes from a time when people used steamboats and horses to move, and just like steamboats and horses after the invention of the airplane and car, isolationism should be scrapped and sent to the glue factory. An isolationist is a person who does not have the mental capacity to understand the innate connectivity between all people; there is no escape from your fellow man. For example, even though she may be halfway across the world, I am still affected by the gravitational pull of your mother, and no matter how self–sufficient I may want to become, I am hurt by proxy as a result of the massive food shortages that your mother causes because of her glutenous habits because the famines she incurs on the world may end up killing the person that could have invented an infinite supply of food, one that could finally satiate the hunger of your mom.
No man is an island, that much was established as early as the 17th century by English poet John Donne, but this is so much truer now. I can now go from the Inland Empire State to the old continent of empires without even getting wet, and Elon Musk can enter your mind island with the microchip that he has implanted in your brain; there is simply nothing anyone can do to escape humanity. Technology has made it so that there might as well not be an ocean that separates us for technology has erased distance; we are all back to Pangea.
I am convinced that isolationism is the work of the devil. When you think about it, it makes total sense; the devil wants us to forget that we are all the children of God, so he separates us through the work of isolationism. What’s more, is that isolationism has caused the most misery out of any single thing because of its role in permitting tyranny across the world. All this to say that all isolationists will burn in hell where they belong for contributing to the oppression of people across the globe. Hence why Roosevelt is a Christ–like figure to me. Much as Jesus Christ had to fight the influences of lechery and debauchery on the Israelites, Roosevelt faced insurmountable sorts of devil–worshipers: the idiots who believe that international affairs are not of their concern, the mentally deranged lunatics who think that influencing international politics is immoral or that every war is an absolute evil, the absolute sociopaths who believe wars should be avoided for the purpose of maintaining economic growth, and the collaborators and sympathizers who opposed American involvement in World War II because they supported the nazi empire. I’m going to say what no one else has the confidence to say: these people should lose the right to vote, and Charles Lindbergh should have gotten dragged out of his New Jersey palace and decapitated then buried in an unmarked grave just like his wretched baby for his Nazi sympathies.
Franklin Delano Roosevelt, though he could not stand, was the first American soul to step foot on the light outside of the shade of the enormous storm above them. The rats spoke to his people tand said “Do not follow him, he’ll destroy this country with reckless abandon,” but Roosevelt moved with rhythmic confidence, and his words beckoned them forth. He told them that they had nothing to fear, that there is strength in plurality, and that he would not take another step forward without every single one of his people behind him. He held a torch in one hand, and on the other, he held the hand of Elanor. Elanor held the hand of James, James held the hand of a coal miner, the coal miner held the hand of a banker, the banker held the hand of a refugee and so on until, at the end of the line, there stood, for the first time, the rats. It was a glorious liberty ribbon that looped, zigzagged, and stretched in a line–ish long enough to encircle the earth…ten times. Each of Roosevelt’s steps was followed the by step of a two hundred million adults, a hundred million children, and fifty million pets; all of America walked together with all of the reckless abandon that they could muster, and each of Roosevelt’s steps was followed by by a thunderous applause of locomotion; they walked with the voice of God. Every western man, woman, child, and pet behind him, Roosevelt started the funeral march, but it wouldn’t be the funeral of anyone marching, no; instead, it would be the funeral of tyranny. They heaved and huffed together; it was the largest battering ram ever created.
Together, they stepped foot on the bridge to Europe; it nearly buckled, but could have withstanded ten times the weight. Not for any marvel of engineering did the bridge withstand the weight, but for the fact that the marchers’ spirits were high and souls were as light as a feather They took each step together, though not in unison, no one was left behind. The water was a rough torrent, which nearly made the chain buckle, but they withstood. “The bridge can withstand as violent waves as were possible,” Roosevelt reminded them. He repeated: “the only thing that can buckle is you.” Now, with the fear of nothing in their hearts, they withstood the gust of wind that would have torn Babylon apart. It was for their strength in unison that no one faltered. Now, the cold of the ocean was strong, but they were far stronger. They shared body warmth, conserved energy, and learned to wear the same coat. They marched for many revolutions, but each step made them stronger. They marched. They marched. They marched. They marched until they reached Berlin, leaving liberty behind them. It was the return of the exiles of the ages, the greatest welcome home party ever, and the best conga–line ever. They marched, until they reached what they were after: the heart of tyranny. Franklin Delano Roosevelt started; he geared his fist back, and everyone followed. Then, at once, in the most unified motion possible, they punched the Fuhrer until there was nothing left but as. Such was the exodus of America from isolationism, but some want to follow their follies back under the storm, back into chains.
I say that isolationism is a folly because it is completely unsustainable and illogical, and, frankly, anyone who believes that isolationism is workable is a complete moron and should consider throwing themselves off of the Empire State Building. More specifically, isolationism is completely irrelevant and non-feasible because technological advancements make it untenable. Technological advancement, horse and buggy to steamboat and airplane, have made the world intrinsically interconnected socially and economically. For example, a train derailment in South Korea may cause an increase in phone costs in Finland, a flood in Peru may increase the price of potatoes in Ireland, and a war in Ukraine will increase the price of bread in America which caused a Speaker to lose her majority in the House of Representatives. Furthermore, a video of beheading in Iraq could be traumatizing to a young child surfing the internet for the first time in 2016, a crackdown on the freedom of speech in Hungary can stress out a boy and remind him of the danger of growing to confident in the endurance of democracy, and a girl getting denied her education in Afghanistan can prevent her from going to a college and developing a career in biotechnology which would result in the discovery of the cure to cancer. Technology has sown the world closer together, and people who believe that they could not be bothered by something that is physically distant fails to understand the spiritual closeness between all people.
Isolationism comes from a time when people used steamboats and horses to move, and just like steamboats and horses after the invention of the airplane and car, isolationism should be scrapped and sent to the glue factory. An isolationist is a person who does not have the mental capacity to understand the innate connectivity between all people; there is no escape from your fellow man. For example, even though she may be halfway across the world, I am still affected by the gravitational pull of your mother, and no matter how self–sufficient I may want to become, I am hurt by proxy as a result of the massive food shortages that your mother causes because of her glutenous habits because the famines she incurs on the world may end up killing the person that could have invented an infinite supply of food, one that could finally satiate the hunger of your mom.
No man is an island, that much was established as early as the 17th century by English poet John Donne, but this is so much truer now. I can now go from the Inland Empire State to the old continent of empires without even getting wet, and Elon Musk can enter your mind island with the microchip that he has implanted in your brain; there is simply nothing anyone can do to escape humanity. Technology has made it so that there might as well not be an ocean that separates us for technology has erased distance; we are all back to Pangea.
Still, the dense idiots who fashion themselves as isolationists stubbornly cling to their sad soddy “islands”, but they cannot do this without relinquishing their technology. Isolationists must live smaller, feudal lives to even catch a glimpse of the promises of isolationism; they must become peasants once more. Even then, the Amish could not escape the pandemic. Even now, the Amish won’t escape armageddon. You cannot cut yourself from the spool that binds us.
There are also those isolationists who believe that wars should not be waged because war is devastating for the economy. This, especially in the case of wars that are worth being waged, is a selfish perspective, and it is a result of business influence. Coca–Cola and Ford’s bottom lines were damaged by World War Two; McDonald’s and Pizza Hut too are being hurt by American sanctions against Russia. While it is true that war–profiteering industries exist, involvement in war is by far more damaging to the vast majority of industries because of how it damages supply chains and foreign branches. This justification of isolationism is foolish at best and duplicitous at best. What makes me laugh is that I often hear this argument from socialists online, when it is they who would otherwise be in opposition to the business influences in policy.
Still, though, it is good that wars are expensive because it means that any wars that are fought are those morally justified enough for a nation to overcome the woes that arise from them; it was Robert E. Lee who once said that “It is well that war is so terrible, otherwise we should grow to fond of it.” The spirit of Abraham Lincoln resonating within me shudders at this, but I have to agree with Robert E. Lee. War is hard because it must be; economic sacrifices must be made so that we know that we are fighting for what is good for our hearts instead of what is good for our pockets. When, after the death and economic destruction have been accounted for, we decide that a war has been worthwhile, it will be like a renewed soul after a confessional.
There is also the issue that freedom is, though they are not mutually exclusive, simply more worthwhile than economic stability. How much does the freedom of fifty million people cost? I could never put an exact number to it, but I will say that I would sell all of my personal possessions and non-vital organs to save Ukraine. To value money higher than the freedom of the world is complete lunacy, and downright selfish; these are the same kind of idiots who would have supported slavery because it brought the cost of t-shirts down. Who will buy your denim jeans when the only things being bought are cuffs and chains?
Some others, perhaps more the more infantile, of the isolationist community believe that war is always bad because it can never be morally justified. These pussy–footed halfwit no–good yellow–belly pansies should consider leaving their nursery and laying off the breast milk because this is the most idiotic argument of all. Only children and Sith deal in absolutes, so unless you can harness the power of the dark side of the Force, consider ignoring this argument. They may say “Babylon wages war on Babylon, Babylon vanquishes the evil of Babylon, Babylon falls and Babylon rises,” in an effort to portray how there is supposedly no “real difference” between the forces that wage war, so what matters is the death of those who fight for nothing. I’ll concede, there was a time when wars were not fought for anything purposeful: the middle ages, but we are not in the middle ages anymore; there is a real and earnest material and social difference between the forces that meet in the trench.
Wars are fought for democracy, for self–determination, and to prevent further violence. The times of the wars of Babylon are over; we have things to fight for now, and for that reason, war is not as inglorious as it once was. War can be used to preserve and expand freedom; it has been used for this before, and everybody deserves to be free. The Euphrates is drying up; the Mississippi flows with thunderous commotion; the wars of the old world are over; we all have something to fight for now.
The pessimistic among us may claim that we are “but lines on a map” to the generals and politicians, and this has been true for centuries, but this is hardly ever the case now and it mustn’t be so. Yes, soldiers will almost certainly continue to die for what appear to be lines on the map, but what glorious lines they must be. These liberty lines may determine whether you have a right to participate in government or even a right to exist. These lines differentiate the apes in Canada from the freedom–loving manliness of America. Sure, borders are becoming obsolete in some parts of the world, but people all over Earth risk their lives just to breathe the air from the other side of a line. Perhaps the most glorious line came into existence on June 6th, 1944 at the behest of ten thousand allied troops on the beaches of Normandy. The advance of this line was the advance of liberty, and it meant far more than just a change on a map to the eight people hiding in an annex in Amsterdam who tracked the progress of liberty and clambered for news from the front. America is no Babylon.
There are also those isolationists who believe that wars should not be waged because war is devastating for the economy. This, especially in the case of wars that are worth being waged, is a selfish perspective, and it is a result of business influence. Coca–Cola and Ford’s bottom lines were damaged by World War Two; McDonald’s and Pizza Hut too are being hurt by American sanctions against Russia. While it is true that war–profiteering industries exist, involvement in war is by far more damaging to the vast majority of industries because of how it damages supply chains and foreign branches. This justification of isolationism is foolish at best and duplicitous at best. What makes me laugh is that I often hear this argument from socialists online, when it is they who would otherwise be in opposition to the business influences in policy.
Still, though, it is good that wars are expensive because it means that any wars that are fought are those morally justified enough for a nation to overcome the woes that arise from them; it was Robert E. Lee who once said that “It is well that war is so terrible, otherwise we should grow to fond of it.” The spirit of Abraham Lincoln resonating within me shudders at this, but I have to agree with Robert E. Lee. War is hard because it must be; economic sacrifices must be made so that we know that we are fighting for what is good for our hearts instead of what is good for our pockets. When, after the death and economic destruction have been accounted for, we decide that a war has been worthwhile, it will be like a renewed soul after a confessional.
There is also the issue that freedom is, though they are not mutually exclusive, simply more worthwhile than economic stability. How much does the freedom of fifty million people cost? I could never put an exact number to it, but I will say that I would sell all of my personal possessions and non-vital organs to save Ukraine. To value money higher than the freedom of the world is complete lunacy, and downright selfish; these are the same kind of idiots who would have supported slavery because it brought the cost of t-shirts down. Who will buy your denim jeans when the only things being bought are cuffs and chains?
Some others, perhaps more the more infantile, of the isolationist community believe that war is always bad because it can never be morally justified. These pussy–footed halfwit no–good yellow–belly pansies should consider leaving their nursery and laying off the breast milk because this is the most idiotic argument of all. Only children and Sith deal in absolutes, so unless you can harness the power of the dark side of the Force, consider ignoring this argument. They may say “Babylon wages war on Babylon, Babylon vanquishes the evil of Babylon, Babylon falls and Babylon rises,” in an effort to portray how there is supposedly no “real difference” between the forces that wage war, so what matters is the death of those who fight for nothing. I’ll concede, there was a time when wars were not fought for anything purposeful: the middle ages, but we are not in the middle ages anymore; there is a real and earnest material and social difference between the forces that meet in the trench.
Wars are fought for democracy, for self–determination, and to prevent further violence. The times of the wars of Babylon are over; we have things to fight for now, and for that reason, war is not as inglorious as it once was. War can be used to preserve and expand freedom; it has been used for this before, and everybody deserves to be free. The Euphrates is drying up; the Mississippi flows with thunderous commotion; the wars of the old world are over; we all have something to fight for now.
The pessimistic among us may claim that we are “but lines on a map” to the generals and politicians, and this has been true for centuries, but this is hardly ever the case now and it mustn’t be so. Yes, soldiers will almost certainly continue to die for what appear to be lines on the map, but what glorious lines they must be. These liberty lines may determine whether you have a right to participate in government or even a right to exist. These lines differentiate the apes in Canada from the freedom–loving manliness of America. Sure, borders are becoming obsolete in some parts of the world, but people all over Earth risk their lives just to breathe the air from the other side of a line. Perhaps the most glorious line came into existence on June 6th, 1944 at the behest of ten thousand allied troops on the beaches of Normandy. The advance of this line was the advance of liberty, and it meant far more than just a change on a map to the eight people hiding in an annex in Amsterdam who tracked the progress of liberty and clambered for news from the front. America is no Babylon.
I recognize that it is a big ask of the repugnantly brain–rotted masses of idiot youths to read this soon–to–be twelve-ish page essay about the vague issues of the day, especially considering the distinct lack of “Fortnite skibidi rizz” or “sussy minecraft parkour” to keep your desperately decrepit minds at attention, but I do think you will enjoy this next part. Although I am quite looney and esoteric, I am not a cruel man. I have allowed you this short respite and a page marker to come with it so that you don’t get lost in my “liberal wall of text”. So, get your snacks, remember to breathe, and prepare yourself for virulent “yapping”. While you’re at it, get a dictionary, for you might need it depending on your Lexile level. I have allowed you this repose, now let us dive deeper into the crevasses of my mind.
Rats are pests; I am sure you know this, or perhaps you don’t because you’ve been sheltered in your own rectum your entire life, but I’m sure most of you know what a rat looks like. Whether as pets or pests, two words formed from just the metathesis of two letters that swap places like a pair of headless Romanovs in a ballroom dance that makes all the difference, you have probably encountered the scourge of the earth. Regardless, I must emphasize quite how revolting they are: they have coarse, dirty, flea-ridden fur that doubles as a camouflage so that they may evade predators the cowardly way. They produce nothing; they are complete leeches to the environment, and the only thing they are good for is as food for larger predators or as pets for the largest predators of all. Even still, they are pests; they survive on scavenged food and are a complete nuisance to farmers. A health hazard if there ever was one, rats are just small vultures. Even still, in large numbers, rats can form a torrent of fuzziness that can bring plagues and drag empires to their knees. In the ratio between total uselessness and danger, rats are similarly proportioned to isolationists.
Just like rats have a biological tendency towards unproductively avoiding the dangers of the real world through escapism, isolationists seem to have a natural disposition to cowardliness. Rats will take their leave from the real world and hide out in damp, dirty, dark places whenever a predator rears their head, but the rat cannot subsist on scraps alone, and the vulture will remain above, patiently waiting, and so rats are confined to an eternal siege; they have nothing else but the impatience of a beast. Hide as the rat might, the world aboveground will still exist, and the vultures will claw at the ground, or pest control will smoke them out. Escapism is complacency, and no amount of soundproofing can block the sound of gunfire.
Similarly, isolationists foolishly try to avoid the outside world; sure, from an empiricist perspective, the outside world truly won’t exist to a country that does not perceive it, but soon enough, the outside world will beckon isolationist ears or forcefully drag the corpses of an escapist country back into the real world. Isolationists seek to close off the world, but there will never be a wall big enough to prevent the exchange of goods and ideas.
Isolationists, in effect, may try to close the door to the rest of the world, but when tyranny comes knocking, there will be no refuge for the rats. It seems that isolationists lack the idea of object permanence. Frankly, I think they’re all mentally children because only a child can be stupid enough to believe that they can separate themselves from the world to solve their problems. In fact, isolationists are so deranged that I would consider firing every single teacher who lets an isolationist go through their class and remain an isolationist because they are clearly not doing their job correctly if such a moronic group of people is allowed to go on in the education system. If anyone deserves to lose the right to vote, it’s the isolationists. Few countries can escape war or its consequences, especially relevant ones; if a war starts, an isolationist country will have to pay in some way: either by direct invasion, a flood of refugees, or the loss of human capital. How will an isolationist react when war and its refuse come to their shores? They may think that peace may be plausible even at the point when foreign troops land on the beaches, but I say this: a coward deserves to leave this world in the cowardly war. A nation should not predispose itself to the mercy of tyrants, for it must be an active player in its destiny.
Instead, the idiot isolationists chose to wander the maze of international relations in an attempt to avoid war, but they are too dense to recognize that they are playing the devil’s game, and there will be no cheese at the end. The appeasement will only be used to extract concessions from the aimless rats. What, after all, was the fate of Czechoslovakia? What about Ukraine? Are they really so childish and mentally and physically underdeveloped that they don’t have enough manhood to stand up to themselves and others? When you have no one else you rely on, or you are the person people usually rely on, you must either cower and let yourself get denuded of your valor to a paper bully or refuse to give in and beat the ever-loving Christ out of tyrants. Hence comes my belief that anyone who remains an isolationist until adulthood is a no–good, yellow-belly, dirty, rotten, pansy that has never stood up for themselves in their life and is too weak to open a jar of pickles by themselves. Either this, or they’re someone who has never suffered a day in their life because of the lavish lifestyle afforded to them by the inheritance that their parents’ exploitation of the meek has brought them, and they have developed no self–defense mechanisms because someone else has always bored the punches for them, so when they encounter the slightest hint of resistance, the fold like a chair, and then they get sat on. They probably like it too.
Appeasement has and never will work as a method of achieving peace; until there is found a way to make something from nothing or unless the world is willing to enslave itself for the sake of peace, the only conclusion of appeasement is just a postponed war. A child is not satiated with just a lollipop and a totalist nation will not be satisfied with a mere empire until the world is fed up and the frankness of reality is forcefully shoved up their keister with the power of the totality of the world’s boots. Either that or the world is too meek to divulge its power and indulge their frustrations and they appease and appease until the only person they can appease is God, and let me tell you: there is no place in God’s kingdom for cowards.
We must recognize that the isolationists, in their attempt to placate the enemy, will only always invigorate them. An appeased country will continue seeking to be appeased until they are befranked of their lunacy through means of subterfuge or aggression. Peace in a state of palliation is wholly untenable, not to mention completely immoral, especially when one considers the relative power between the appeased and the appeaser. Hence, it has been abandoned as a viable strategy for the maintenance of peace, and if anyone tries to bring it back, I would like to see them appease these fists.
The mouse, weak, may scurry along the maze looking for the glorious golden cheese; it tells itself that it will be worth all the delusion and dead–ends, but when it reaches the end, it finds that it has been playing someone else’s game the whole time, and the cheese is what remains of a month–old subway sandwich. Remarkably, it has no mold, but that’s probably because it’s not real cheese, as we all know. Isolationists want to find the cheese, and tyrants want us to inhabit the maze, but neither of them knows that we can make our own cheese. An appeaser can never be in a relationship with full reciprocity in its concord.
Rat–countries, countries that have been taken over by the isolationist peacenik scourge, are also prone to be befallen by the curse of domesticity. These countries are those which because of their refusal to either stand up for themselves or participate in international cooperation against aggression, or what I guess, in this metaphor, is called a rat king, suffer foreign domination. Despite what some lesser educated people might think, neutrality is simply the most total threat to self–self-determination and a country’s sovereignty imaginable. A nation cannot exist alone when aggression persists; to be on its lonesome is to invite the perverted drivel or a bellicose country. These countries, run by people who have never uttered a free thought in their lives, will march alone, yes, but they will march alone off a cliff.
A country, alone, will be subject, alone, to the entire force of an invasion, and an invasion will surely come if it's alone; these–rat countries know nothing of the great American leviathan whose states suffered without each other but fend off the fiercest tyrants together. Hence comes the phrase “united we stand, divided we fall.” It is elementary common sense that people united are hardly defeated, but what could you ever expect from the absolute mistakes of people who are isolationists? If we must be sheep, let us be a herd, or else to the slaughter we must go. A nation, neutral, will only be but a chew toy for a larger country, but countries together will form a fierce band of independent nations.
If you are content to be taken as a pet, so be it, but leave that stuff at home, and don’t bring it into national discourse. Everyone is entitled to enjoy what they want, but people will most often refuse to be caged, fed pet food, collared, and forced to partake in those adorable pet races. They will always refuse to bend the knee and lead a barren life as the nation of captives to a tyrant.
Rats are diseased; similarly, isolationists bring a plague of tyranny. What follows everything a great democratic power is controlled by isolationists is the spread of authoritarianism across the world; it happened following World War One; it could happen again, but we have learned from our mistakes: we will not allow isolationists to infiltrate the most sacred halls of our institutions. They are a plague, and just like rats, isolationists should get exterminated. Every single one of them is lucky that I am not their ruler, otherwise, they would all face the electric chair for their subterfuge of democracy. I will wrestle every one of them from their homes and force them to realize the gravity of their mistakes; they can know no peace so long as they are complicit to tyranny; there is not a single bigger threat to our way of life than the isolationist scourge. I will tie them down and force them to see the news; they must know that there is more to the news than the weather report, they must see that the world remains even after they close their eyes, and they must know the fear of the huddled masses of the world. They need their castles to tremble; perhaps, the best recourse would be to bear witness to the shelling of their homes as the rest of the world does. Maybe, I should break their windows and tear down their doors and remind them that they are not free from the rest of the world.
I recognize, now, that I sound like an evil person, an autocratic lunatic, even. That belief is not without fault, and I don’t blame you for it. Perhaps, I am too violent, but I beg you to let me explain myself: I have my personal gripes on the idiocy of isolationism. No, it is not because I was bullied as a child as you may expect and remember from the anecdote you read at the beginning what must, by now, feel like a few decades ago, for that was a completely fictitious story. I am not feeble enough to get bullied. I am a six-foot-tall alpha male; I am the one who does the bullying. Neither is the exigence of this essay, as certain people may claim, a supposed deal with the CIA where they pay me to write propaganda pieces encouraging people to go to war Manufacturing Consent style. Need I even bother telling you how ridiculous that is? If the CIA paid me to write propaganda, I would go to a better school. Rather, my unbridled detestation of isolationism comes from my friends. You see, I’m friends with a ragtag group of Eastern Europe’s most eligible bachelors, and I’ve come to learn that their existence relies almost entirely on the willingness of the United States to care enough to protect them from Russian aggression.
To express my discontent, I have to ask one of my dearest friends of mine to express the discontent of his own. Kugel is a violently drunk Lithuanian lunatic, and one of my long–time friends whom I wouldn’t trade the world for. Expecting to get a funny violent quote from him, I asked him to tell me what he thought of isolationism, and he delivered an answer so reasonable that it bordered on boring. I have chosen not to include that snoozefest. Disappointed, I asked him to give me a funnier, more impudent answer, and I was filled with such euphoria when I saw his response. As I’m sure you can see at the bottom of your screen, he did not hold back on the impudence. His eloquent wordsmithing and literary opus goes as follows: “Mother****er the dumb***es fear to be seen as the "policemen" of the world, saying that they are tired of it. In fact they aren’t ****ing policemen, they are our friends. It makes no sense for them to go isolationist as you never ****ing leave a friend in danger. I don’t ****ing care how much debt you have, I don’t ****ing care how much your people are unaware of the surrounding world. The fact is that we always supported you.[...]We did all of that because we are ****ing friends. We are not coworkers, we are not neighbors, we are not ****buddies. We are brothers, who help each other no matter what. You can take your isolationist habits and shove it so deep up your *** that Woodrow Wilson can taste it. H.W Bush didn’t die for this.” He is one of the best people I know, and I hope he never changes.
Kugel is right: we need to find glory in our power. Despite my belief that isolationists need help, and by help I mean mental help, and by mental help I mean to be taken out back and shot, I do think that world peace is ideal, but it will never come so long as tyranny exists. Of course, in an ideal world, democracy would reach every face of the earth through peaceful means, but given that I am not yet the supreme leader of humanity, this is not an ideal world. Still, it is my firm belief that, when all the bodies are accounted for, the ones lost and the ones saved, we will know that we are our own saviors
Do you hear the bugle sounding? Perhaps you hear the distress signal? If so, then let us bring tyranny to its natural conclusion. Let us also create a swarm of planes that blot out the sun like the prophetic swarm of locusts that buzz with the sound of the first ringing of the bells, and let their rivers run with the coagulated blood of the tyrant and let us live to see the day where bells from every once–chained part of the globe sing in the chorus of the ages with the sound of liberty in the hearts of man expressed in its totality for the first time, and let us ride down into the valley and ring the bells of the village and bring tyranny to its natural conclusion, or else, let us cross the river and graze on the infernal tyrant's grasslands. We must be the calvary, or else the grazer, or else the slave, or else the damned.
Just like rats have a biological tendency towards unproductively avoiding the dangers of the real world through escapism, isolationists seem to have a natural disposition to cowardliness. Rats will take their leave from the real world and hide out in damp, dirty, dark places whenever a predator rears their head, but the rat cannot subsist on scraps alone, and the vulture will remain above, patiently waiting, and so rats are confined to an eternal siege; they have nothing else but the impatience of a beast. Hide as the rat might, the world aboveground will still exist, and the vultures will claw at the ground, or pest control will smoke them out. Escapism is complacency, and no amount of soundproofing can block the sound of gunfire.
Similarly, isolationists foolishly try to avoid the outside world; sure, from an empiricist perspective, the outside world truly won’t exist to a country that does not perceive it, but soon enough, the outside world will beckon isolationist ears or forcefully drag the corpses of an escapist country back into the real world. Isolationists seek to close off the world, but there will never be a wall big enough to prevent the exchange of goods and ideas.
Isolationists, in effect, may try to close the door to the rest of the world, but when tyranny comes knocking, there will be no refuge for the rats. It seems that isolationists lack the idea of object permanence. Frankly, I think they’re all mentally children because only a child can be stupid enough to believe that they can separate themselves from the world to solve their problems. In fact, isolationists are so deranged that I would consider firing every single teacher who lets an isolationist go through their class and remain an isolationist because they are clearly not doing their job correctly if such a moronic group of people is allowed to go on in the education system. If anyone deserves to lose the right to vote, it’s the isolationists. Few countries can escape war or its consequences, especially relevant ones; if a war starts, an isolationist country will have to pay in some way: either by direct invasion, a flood of refugees, or the loss of human capital. How will an isolationist react when war and its refuse come to their shores? They may think that peace may be plausible even at the point when foreign troops land on the beaches, but I say this: a coward deserves to leave this world in the cowardly war. A nation should not predispose itself to the mercy of tyrants, for it must be an active player in its destiny.
Instead, the idiot isolationists chose to wander the maze of international relations in an attempt to avoid war, but they are too dense to recognize that they are playing the devil’s game, and there will be no cheese at the end. The appeasement will only be used to extract concessions from the aimless rats. What, after all, was the fate of Czechoslovakia? What about Ukraine? Are they really so childish and mentally and physically underdeveloped that they don’t have enough manhood to stand up to themselves and others? When you have no one else you rely on, or you are the person people usually rely on, you must either cower and let yourself get denuded of your valor to a paper bully or refuse to give in and beat the ever-loving Christ out of tyrants. Hence comes my belief that anyone who remains an isolationist until adulthood is a no–good, yellow-belly, dirty, rotten, pansy that has never stood up for themselves in their life and is too weak to open a jar of pickles by themselves. Either this, or they’re someone who has never suffered a day in their life because of the lavish lifestyle afforded to them by the inheritance that their parents’ exploitation of the meek has brought them, and they have developed no self–defense mechanisms because someone else has always bored the punches for them, so when they encounter the slightest hint of resistance, the fold like a chair, and then they get sat on. They probably like it too.
Appeasement has and never will work as a method of achieving peace; until there is found a way to make something from nothing or unless the world is willing to enslave itself for the sake of peace, the only conclusion of appeasement is just a postponed war. A child is not satiated with just a lollipop and a totalist nation will not be satisfied with a mere empire until the world is fed up and the frankness of reality is forcefully shoved up their keister with the power of the totality of the world’s boots. Either that or the world is too meek to divulge its power and indulge their frustrations and they appease and appease until the only person they can appease is God, and let me tell you: there is no place in God’s kingdom for cowards.
We must recognize that the isolationists, in their attempt to placate the enemy, will only always invigorate them. An appeased country will continue seeking to be appeased until they are befranked of their lunacy through means of subterfuge or aggression. Peace in a state of palliation is wholly untenable, not to mention completely immoral, especially when one considers the relative power between the appeased and the appeaser. Hence, it has been abandoned as a viable strategy for the maintenance of peace, and if anyone tries to bring it back, I would like to see them appease these fists.
The mouse, weak, may scurry along the maze looking for the glorious golden cheese; it tells itself that it will be worth all the delusion and dead–ends, but when it reaches the end, it finds that it has been playing someone else’s game the whole time, and the cheese is what remains of a month–old subway sandwich. Remarkably, it has no mold, but that’s probably because it’s not real cheese, as we all know. Isolationists want to find the cheese, and tyrants want us to inhabit the maze, but neither of them knows that we can make our own cheese. An appeaser can never be in a relationship with full reciprocity in its concord.
Rat–countries, countries that have been taken over by the isolationist peacenik scourge, are also prone to be befallen by the curse of domesticity. These countries are those which because of their refusal to either stand up for themselves or participate in international cooperation against aggression, or what I guess, in this metaphor, is called a rat king, suffer foreign domination. Despite what some lesser educated people might think, neutrality is simply the most total threat to self–self-determination and a country’s sovereignty imaginable. A nation cannot exist alone when aggression persists; to be on its lonesome is to invite the perverted drivel or a bellicose country. These countries, run by people who have never uttered a free thought in their lives, will march alone, yes, but they will march alone off a cliff.
A country, alone, will be subject, alone, to the entire force of an invasion, and an invasion will surely come if it's alone; these–rat countries know nothing of the great American leviathan whose states suffered without each other but fend off the fiercest tyrants together. Hence comes the phrase “united we stand, divided we fall.” It is elementary common sense that people united are hardly defeated, but what could you ever expect from the absolute mistakes of people who are isolationists? If we must be sheep, let us be a herd, or else to the slaughter we must go. A nation, neutral, will only be but a chew toy for a larger country, but countries together will form a fierce band of independent nations.
If you are content to be taken as a pet, so be it, but leave that stuff at home, and don’t bring it into national discourse. Everyone is entitled to enjoy what they want, but people will most often refuse to be caged, fed pet food, collared, and forced to partake in those adorable pet races. They will always refuse to bend the knee and lead a barren life as the nation of captives to a tyrant.
Rats are diseased; similarly, isolationists bring a plague of tyranny. What follows everything a great democratic power is controlled by isolationists is the spread of authoritarianism across the world; it happened following World War One; it could happen again, but we have learned from our mistakes: we will not allow isolationists to infiltrate the most sacred halls of our institutions. They are a plague, and just like rats, isolationists should get exterminated. Every single one of them is lucky that I am not their ruler, otherwise, they would all face the electric chair for their subterfuge of democracy. I will wrestle every one of them from their homes and force them to realize the gravity of their mistakes; they can know no peace so long as they are complicit to tyranny; there is not a single bigger threat to our way of life than the isolationist scourge. I will tie them down and force them to see the news; they must know that there is more to the news than the weather report, they must see that the world remains even after they close their eyes, and they must know the fear of the huddled masses of the world. They need their castles to tremble; perhaps, the best recourse would be to bear witness to the shelling of their homes as the rest of the world does. Maybe, I should break their windows and tear down their doors and remind them that they are not free from the rest of the world.
I recognize, now, that I sound like an evil person, an autocratic lunatic, even. That belief is not without fault, and I don’t blame you for it. Perhaps, I am too violent, but I beg you to let me explain myself: I have my personal gripes on the idiocy of isolationism. No, it is not because I was bullied as a child as you may expect and remember from the anecdote you read at the beginning what must, by now, feel like a few decades ago, for that was a completely fictitious story. I am not feeble enough to get bullied. I am a six-foot-tall alpha male; I am the one who does the bullying. Neither is the exigence of this essay, as certain people may claim, a supposed deal with the CIA where they pay me to write propaganda pieces encouraging people to go to war Manufacturing Consent style. Need I even bother telling you how ridiculous that is? If the CIA paid me to write propaganda, I would go to a better school. Rather, my unbridled detestation of isolationism comes from my friends. You see, I’m friends with a ragtag group of Eastern Europe’s most eligible bachelors, and I’ve come to learn that their existence relies almost entirely on the willingness of the United States to care enough to protect them from Russian aggression.
To express my discontent, I have to ask one of my dearest friends of mine to express the discontent of his own. Kugel is a violently drunk Lithuanian lunatic, and one of my long–time friends whom I wouldn’t trade the world for. Expecting to get a funny violent quote from him, I asked him to tell me what he thought of isolationism, and he delivered an answer so reasonable that it bordered on boring. I have chosen not to include that snoozefest. Disappointed, I asked him to give me a funnier, more impudent answer, and I was filled with such euphoria when I saw his response. As I’m sure you can see at the bottom of your screen, he did not hold back on the impudence. His eloquent wordsmithing and literary opus goes as follows: “Mother****er the dumb***es fear to be seen as the "policemen" of the world, saying that they are tired of it. In fact they aren’t ****ing policemen, they are our friends. It makes no sense for them to go isolationist as you never ****ing leave a friend in danger. I don’t ****ing care how much debt you have, I don’t ****ing care how much your people are unaware of the surrounding world. The fact is that we always supported you.[...]We did all of that because we are ****ing friends. We are not coworkers, we are not neighbors, we are not ****buddies. We are brothers, who help each other no matter what. You can take your isolationist habits and shove it so deep up your *** that Woodrow Wilson can taste it. H.W Bush didn’t die for this.” He is one of the best people I know, and I hope he never changes.
Kugel is right: we need to find glory in our power. Despite my belief that isolationists need help, and by help I mean mental help, and by mental help I mean to be taken out back and shot, I do think that world peace is ideal, but it will never come so long as tyranny exists. Of course, in an ideal world, democracy would reach every face of the earth through peaceful means, but given that I am not yet the supreme leader of humanity, this is not an ideal world. Still, it is my firm belief that, when all the bodies are accounted for, the ones lost and the ones saved, we will know that we are our own saviors
Do you hear the bugle sounding? Perhaps you hear the distress signal? If so, then let us bring tyranny to its natural conclusion. Let us also create a swarm of planes that blot out the sun like the prophetic swarm of locusts that buzz with the sound of the first ringing of the bells, and let their rivers run with the coagulated blood of the tyrant and let us live to see the day where bells from every once–chained part of the globe sing in the chorus of the ages with the sound of liberty in the hearts of man expressed in its totality for the first time, and let us ride down into the valley and ring the bells of the village and bring tyranny to its natural conclusion, or else, let us cross the river and graze on the infernal tyrant's grasslands. We must be the calvary, or else the grazer, or else the slave, or else the damned.
