In honor of some of Glenn Beck's best lessons: Why Walt Whitman could hear us sing. by Paul Benedict
(libertarian)
Thursday, April 14, 2011
I Heard America Singing
I Hear America Singing --by Walt Whitman (1st versions written as early as 1860)
I HEAR America singing, the varied carols I hear;
Those of mechanics--each one singing his, as it should be, blithe and strong;
The carpenter singing his, as he measures his plank or beam,
The mason singing his, as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work;
The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat--the deckhand singing on the steamboat deck;
The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench--the hatter singing as he stands;
The wood-cutter's song--the ploughboy's, on his way in the morning, or at the noon intermission, or at sundown;
The delicious singing of the mother--or of the young wife at work�or of the girl sewing or washing--Each singing what belongs to her, and to none else;
The day what belongs to the day--At night, the party of young fellows, robust, friendly,
Singing, with open mouths, their strong melodious songs.
Whitman could record, in praise, the voices America singing the greatest boom economy in recorded history, immeasurable by today's standards. Why? Because of the American Idea. Never before in history could the common man work for what was his and his alone. Whitman knew the American spirit as we sang the pride of ownership, of liberty.
Today we have flush toilets, radios, big screen T.V.'s, hybrid cars, Homeland Security owned jet airlines and grocery stores that still send fear into the hearts of Communist regimes everywhere...But who was truly richer?
The dream of the peasants in Russia was the end of Czarist ownership, a workers' paradise... where everyone owned everything together and so no one owned anything? How'd that work?
America was the workers' paradise. Communism the lie. I'm not sure we really understand the tendency of this world to revert to the ancient forms of evil and tyranny. It's the same old trick. High sounding lies in order to steal us blind. It isn't a grand conspiracy. It is the grand commonality of evil. Tyrants know each other. They recognize one another's accomplishments.
Don't be fooled by the lie in any form. An unrighteous people cannot prosper. Crime doesn't pay. Cheaters never prosper. Repeat this to yourself in whatever form -- as long as it makes your synapses fire. Here then is the corollary: "The law cannot be applied differently to different people because of our prejudice." Tax law must be fair or there is no property.
We speak so blithley of "the rich." It's all prejudice. Doctor, inventor, bangster, we allow the tyrants of the age to group these all together, not for our benefit. Who tells a lie to benefit others? If we don't allow any American to be rich every American will be poor... Don't buy that. Some will surely be rich still. You know who right? Yep, those that tell the lies.
The percentage is the most progressive form of tax that preserves the dignity of property. Tax rate differences are inequality under the law. Cry about the constitution or ignore the constitution, such a nation cannot prosper, and if you haven't noticed, has NOT. You can't get a free lunch. That logic is a trap.
I'm sorry Walt, you're yesterday dude: I Hear the Bangster's Singing.
I Hear the Bangster's Singing
I HEAR the bangsters singing, their solo canto I hear;
That of interest pending--each one singing our folly, just as it should be, blithe and strong;
The Arab king singing his, as he measures our casket beam,
The Chi-Com singing his, as he makes profit from our work, or from our trade;
The politician singing what belongs to us in our land --the lender singing on the foreclosure board;
The CBO singing as he sits counts us out --the pollster laughing where he stands;
The city manager's song --the welfare board, in his office in the morning, or at the noon intermission, or at sundown;
The delicious singing of the Nanny state --or of the big spender's pork--or of the credit card advertisers at his mailing or calling --Each singing what once belonged to us, and to none else;
The government what belongs to the government--And behind the scenes, the party of drug lords, robust, friendly,
Singing, with open mouths, their strong melodious songs
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The views expressed
in this article are those of Paul Benedict only and
do not represent the views of Nolan Chart, LLC or its affiliates.
Paul Benedict is solely responsible for the contents
of this article and is not an employee or otherwise affiliated
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