Anglo Confederation? [Reader Post]

I offer the following purely as a thought experiment. I suppose it’s more of a leftward proposal, and, thus may be deemed unsuitable for this blog. I’m hoping that it may be viewed simply as a theoretical proposal to initiate thoughtful discussion of pros and cons.

I think that it would be advantageous to form some sort of global confederation of the primary English-speaking nations:

There Are No More Campfires

Prologue: This is a story of two Stone Age chieftains, who migrated to America during the last Ice Age, approximately twenty thousand years ago: one came from the East and one came from the West, but before you begin to recite the teachings of Archaeology from twenty years ago, you might be surprised to know of startling new discoveries about the migration of man and the inconvenient facts surrounding the theories of Anthropomorphic Global Warming.

Life Isn’t About Waiting For A Storm To Pass; It’s About Learning To Dance In The Rain.

During the Renaissance and up until the late 19th Century, the Straivarius violin was the standard of the industry. A model by which all others were judged. The Stradivarius and fine sailing ships were built by employing Pythagorean mathematics, a keen knowledge of various woods, and a sense of artistic proportion. The result was an aesthetic marvel that would be admired by generations

Lars used the same Pythagorean mathematics, his love of exotic wood, and an artist’s sense of form and proportion to build his double ended ketch over thirty years ago. Wood makes a sail boat seem alive. The steel cable stays that brace the masts play their own music in different winds and the wooden vessel comes alive and sings beautiful songs on the high seas, but you needed to speak the language of sailing to understand the music of the songs of the sea.

Obama’s Turkeys

I had a Labrador and my best buddy Knarley Manners had a Chesapeake. The dogs were given to us by people in town, people who found that big dogs make a big mess in small backyards. That was fine by us, we usually had stock dogs and dogs for lion and bear, these bird dogs were exotics to us and really special. There was only one problem; we weren’t bird hunters. Oh sure, we shot prairie chickens (grouse and ptarmigan) for dinner out in the bush, but that was always with a pistol or a 22 and not all that sporting. Head shots at thirty feet or less was the rule, but the skills for shooting ducks and geese had eluded us. Why hunt ducks and geese when you can hunt moose and elk?

Now that we had dogs, we needed to learn how to hunt waterfowl. We made plans, oh how we made plans for weeks and months we made plans; the sort of plans that 13 year old boys make when they are hiding an expedition from their dads.

The Measure Of A Jackass

One of my neighbors asked for help in rounding up the cattle on his brother’s spread in the Chilcotin, down by Alexis Creek. His brother had been killed when a horse flipped over and crushed him against a log.

I was always up for an adventure and for seeing new country, so I told him he could count on me. The Chilcotin is about halfway to Vancouver and we considered it to be in the tropics. They could count on the thermometer dropping to sixty below come winter, but it is only a few hours from the Okanagan and they grow peaches down there.

Rick Perry’s Cowboy Boots Versus Obama’s Marxist Gum Boots

My intellectual mentors were two of the most unlikely characters you can imagine. They were both immigrants to Peace River Country from Europe. They were both well read and primarily self-taught learned men, who knew the classics and were prepared to argue politics, religion, or literature with any man walking the earth.

Todd or Tadeusz Podbereski, a huge Pole who stood six foot six and weighed well over 300 pounds, was a devout Catholic who brooded over Homer’s Illiad and could recite several of Shakespeare’s plays and most of the bible from memory. He could never resist the opportunity to assume the role of Falstaff, Shakespeare’s irreverent, glutton, bawdy, profane, drunken, mooching, liar monk: he would abandon his thick Polish accent and employ the overly theatrical method of a Shakespearian actor, in country stores and humble cabins, he’d quote passages that pertained to the daily discourse of almost any situation. Even the most stoic and unromantic watched in silent awe as Todd applied his thespian skills to illustrate an obscure point of conversation.

Business Leaders Former Progressive Supporters, Don’t Like Socialism

In a belated effort that makes people wonder whether CEO positions are hereditary, business leaders are finally realizing the oppressive nature of Marxism. Steve Wynn, Las Vegas based CEO in the hospitality business has finally noticed that the Obama doctrine is strangling business and investment, he is one of many Democrat businessmen speaking out against Obama and his Socialism.

During a conference call on Monday, Wynn called Obama:

“the greatest wet blanket to business, progress and job creation in my lifetime.”