Why Hillary Will Run and Obama Will Not …

by Robert Arvay, Contributing Writer to The Patriot’s Notepad

Let’s begin with a brief history lesson: in 2004, the Democrat nominee for president was John Kerry. Old “Horse-face” was one of the weakest candidates the Democrats could have chosen. Why did they pick such a goof-ball? (“I voted for it before I voted against it.” Yeah, John, that’s the kind of decisive leadership America wants, LOL.)

In my opinion, Hillary had something to do with both Kerry’s nomination and with his defeat.

This is what I think happened; Hillary wanted to run for president in 2004. She could probably have secured the nomination. So why didn’t she try for it? Because she would have been running against a favored incumbent (George W. Bush) during good economic times. That is not a formula for victory, as Kerry soon discovered. Hillary no doubt wanted a weak Democrat nominee. I am also sure that, had Kerry begun to surge ahead, Hillary would have done something to make sure that Kerry lost. Why?

Because Hillary knew that in 2008, after Kerry lost in 2004, she could run for an “open seat” in the White House against a ‘John McCain’ type of weak RINO (Republican in Name Only) that the Republican National Committee can usually be counted on to nominate. Hillary was certain that the nomination would be hers for the asking – just look at the news reports and the polls of 2007. People were saying that her nomination would be a “coronation,” and that she would be the first woman president. It was already decided.

Then disaster struck. An unknown whom no one could have taken seriously, suddenly ambushed the Hillary juggernaut. The media, upon which Hillary had depended for her support, turned viciously against her. Ethical Journalism died and propaganda infected the land, a shameless propaganda machine that promoted all Obama, all the time.

All of Hillary’s careful plans had come to nothing. Her hopes for 2008 were shattered by an unexpected, unpredictable turn of fate. The best she could hope for was a cabinet position. She got it.

But wait … Obama’s presidency turned sour. The economy went badly, and Obama’s grandiose promises to his base were broken. Worse yet, he failed to deliver for his biggest constituency, the labor unions. In state after state, union leaders saw their power diminished, and not all the King’s horses and men could put the unions back on top again. Union leaders do not forgive failure. Oh no, they don’t. Never.

The community organizer-in-chief became disorganized. The emperor had no clothes (oh wait, that wasn’t Obama, that was Weiner).

It’s 2011 … At last! This is Hillary’s opportunity to pounce – except that she can’t. She’s in Obama’s cabinet. If she is seen as disloyal, a back-stabber, a pushy broad … no, she has to keep up appearances as a party loyalist.

Ah, but her husband, Billy Boy, has no such restrictions. Remember Hillary’s ‘better half,’ the one who bitterly accused Obama of calling Billy a racist (at least by implication)? Billy (who called himself the real first black president) does not take such insults lightly. Billy does not take ANY insult lightly. And he has a long memory … Billy is out for blood.

Next, Bill Clinton publishes some negative words about Obama’s handling of the economy. Why is that a big deal? Obama knows why. He has been put on notice. Worse yet (for Obama), Obama’s backers are on notice. They are reminded that Obama is vulnerable, and that Hillary has enhanced her résumé with her appointment as Secretary of State; Obama has become expendable.

The drama is now set to begin. Not all the lines have been written, but Hillary is in the wings preparing to enter stage “left.”

And why not? Why would she hesitate? She has already forfeited the presidency twice, one of those times time by choice. Hillary knows that 2012 may be her last chance to run, so, she not will forego this opportunity.

Hillary knows that if Obama wins a second term, he will have so wrecked the nation by 2016 that there might not be a country of which to be president. As radical a socialist as Hillary is, even she is not so stupid as to miss seeing that eventuality.

The next few months will predictably get worse for Obama. I mean, it’s not rocket science … Any nation that spends and borrows itself into oblivion cannot improve. (Example: look at Greece) and Obama is inherently incapable of applying the free market reforms that are our nation’s only hope of survival. He wouldn’t know a free market reform if one slapped him in his wallet. So count on it. The economy will get worse, and with it, every detail of the state of the union.

So here is how I see the drama playing out, in some way, shape or form: It would not be a total shock to see Obama forced to resign, at least in effect, if not formally. That would leave the utterly inept Joe Biden in charge. However, Joe would be persuaded to bring in Hillary, and through whatever process it takes, perhaps becoming Joe’s VP, Hillary winds up running things. The details will fill in as time goes on.

But whatever the details, whether or not Hillary is formally recognized as the head of state at any particular moment, she will soon secure her “coronation” as the Democrat nominee for president. Then the campaign will begin. It will be Hillary versus Sarah Palin.

What happens after that is anyone’s guess.

The Anti-Jobs President Campaigns to Save His Own Job

While much of the media has been in Alaska digging for nuggets in the Great-Sara-Palin-E-mail-Gold-Rush, and the rest wallowing in the gutter of Anthony Weiner’s tweets, the perpetually campaigning President is on another familiar thrust. Desperately trying to put a positive spin on the administration’s anti-jobs, pro Marxist economy, Obama stages photo-ops with “green” businesses, presses the flesh with union bosses, and inexplicably checks out the state of affairs in Puerto Rico for no other reason than to curry favor with Hispanic voters in Florida.

Curiously, Obama also chose a job-exporting “green” company in North Carolina, a state with the 10th highest unemployment rate in the nation, to highlight his inexpertise in job creation. Photo-ops and a few chuckles with leaders of progressive businesses that extract billions of dollars from taxpayers, is standard operating procedure for our economically challenged President.

Case in point; the Cree LED Light Company, an energy-efficient-lighting plant based in Durham, North Carolina is a typical recipient in the “Obama money line.” After receiving millions of taxpayers’ dollars, they promptly opened a plant in China where more than half of their employees now live and work.

Our economy is doing exactly what all central planning economies do; stagnate and leave people looking to government for answers. However, the real answers to a healthy economy and private sector job growth lies in the American people and with the free enterprise system. When unchained from the shackles of excessive regulations, taxes, and interference, the American economy creates jobs and liberates people to make their own choices in accordance to our Constitutional principles.

In order to accomplish their goal of complete government control, the administration must deflect the blame for their own failures and ascribe it to others. Thus, Obama jaunts the political circuits blaming the “rich,” George Bush, Republicans, and business, for the utter disastrous state of the economy and his own incompetence.

His trite excuses and blame game fall on ears deafened by his monotone whine of political rhetoric. Finding long-term, gainful employment trumps listening to jingoistic slogans, empty promises, and ludicrous postulates based on left-wing economic theories. He seems to be saying, give me another $4 trillion and I’ll turn this economy around.

Trillions of dollars in assets from the American people, businesses, and lending institutions crave a positive business climate free of government constraints and interference that allow investment in job creation. Obama, however, presses for seizure of these assets in another money grab designed to expand government. These schemes fuel a lack of confidence in government and add to his failed policies and to America’s woes.

Obama’s call for more crippling deficit spending (investment) and tax increases is an income redistribution policy in which failure finds warmth and refuge. Rather than stimulate, his past actions predictably created a drag on the economy and when the money ran out, the few government jobs created or saved began disappearing into the liberal vapor-sphere.

The President’s claim of a “bump in the road on the way to recovery” is actually a “missing bridge over a long, deep, chasm of Obama’s Marxist philosophy on the road to economic reality.” Since Democrats assumed control of the Congress, unemployment increased from 4.5 percent (less than 7 million, to nearly 15 million or 9.1%. The national debt skyrocketed from $8.67 trillion to $14.4 trillion, some bump!

Every action by Obama and the liberal wing of the Democratic Party roars through the nation screaming failure! The once envied fire of American exceptionalism will continue unlit in this tsunami of Marxist-liberalism. They offer more of the same; shouting down opponents, class warfare, race hustling, and preaching the evils of Capitalism.

If the leftist professor and community organizer from Chicago has any clue about how a free economy should work, it takes a back seat to politics and ideology. Justifying his anti-jobs’ policies is now his full-time passion.

Compliant media look the other way while the food stamp, welfare, and unemployment President endeavors to save one big job; his own.

Jim Mullen

http://freedomforusnow.com

http://www.examiner.com/x-54993-Parkersburg-Conservative-Examiner

Retrospective: Understanding My Father

by Genevieve

Known as John Holmes, Holmsie or Johnnie to relatives and friends, my Father was nonexistent to me throughout my childhood. Memories of him are vague. He only wanted one child and was not pleased that Mom was pregnant with me. He ignored me much of the time unless he was shouting at me or punishing me for misbehavior. It is hard to admit that I didn’t like my Father.

Actually, my mother raised my Sister and me as Dad was rarely at home. He was aDad’s Model T steelworker during the day and spent evenings and weekends tending his crops on his family’s farm. When he was at home, he was drunk and bad-tempered. With an invisible husband, she was responsible for disciplining and nurturing us.

I avoided contact with him as much as possible.

He was a good provider (even on his meager salary of $5K per year). If Mom sent my Sister and me away from the dinner table for misbehaving, Dad brought food to our room so that we wouldn’t be hungry. Other than that, he never showed much emotion.

In retrospect, I don’t think that Dad ever learned how to love. His German parents were emotionally very cold. His Mother took the children to the hollow when they misbehaved and held a knife to their throats – how could this extreme trauma not have a lasting effect on an individual and future parent?

I didn’t see my Father as a human being and had no feelings for him until I became an adult. When I was at home from college, Dad took me to his local haunt, and we drank beer and talked. He proudly introduced me to his friends as his daughter. We spent a lot of time sitting on the front porch getting to know each other.

I started to accept him for who he was recognizing that his childhood was not very pleasant. He could not give something that he did not have. I know now that he did the best that he could with what he had learned as a child.

I do remember a few moving things that Dad did for me. He gave me one of the canes that he carved from elm trees for his boss to sell in England. I was really touched. After I moved to Arizona, I mentioned that I would like to have a bookcase for my apartment. My parents visited me, and Dad took measurements for the bookcase. He built a bookcase that separated my living room and kitchen. It was awesome that he measured, cut the boards and shipped them to me. My landlord installed it.  

When my Father died, I went to the funeral home. I saw him lying in the casket and broke into hysterical tears. If I just had another chance to at least tell him that I loved him. Mom straightened his tie and kissed him on the forehead. At that moment, I understood the true meaning of love.  

Friend, Foe or Father

by Cynthia Toney

My Father and I were not what you would call close.

In the 26 years we occupied this planet together, I don’t recall a single father-daughter walk to discuss school or dating nor a single “I love you.” We had only one very brief private conversation at the kitchen table.   

My Father was strict in his approach to raising my sisters and me. I was obedient, so he only spanked my younger sisters. Regardless, I feared him more than I loved him. He was the enemy.

His rules would be considered draconian today. No television after 8:30 p.m. on a school night, no matter how old I got. No driving in the rain (somehow, he always knew what the weather was going to be like).

When my Father came home from work, he didn’t spend time with me. He relaxed with my Mother, Grandmother, or other adults; our weekends were no different.

I longed for the kind of a father as some of my friends had – one who would toss a ball to me, take me to the movies, or teach me how to make things. I wanted a friend.

I left home when I was 18 – to marry too young, but not until my Father was sure that I had started college.

By the time I lost him to a heart attack, I had come to terms with our relationship. Actually, I felt that our connection had improved just before he was hospitalized. I shared the gift of his first grandchild with him; the way that his face lit up when he looked at her was unfamiliar to me.

As I raised my daughter, my marriage with her father fell apart. Without her father or my own to help me, I discovered just how tough parenting can be. There were times when I wondered if I would be able to stay calm when she was sick or hurt. I struggled to protect her from her poor judgment, bad driving and bad friends. I realized that I was protecting her just as my Father had protected me. Eventually, I understood that rules save children from themselves. Love is not always spoken. Caring isn’t only shown through fun and games.

It took another 26 years, but I finally got it, Daddy. You were my Father.

Cynthia Toney is a Contributing Writer and Editor, The Bold Pursuit


© 2011, The Bold Pursuit, All Rights Reserved

The Significance of Fathers

by Robert Arvay

 

When Clio mentioned that she was planning to post articles for Father’s Day, she found it necessary (and indeed it is) to mention that some people might not have the best relations with their fathers, so perhaps we should consider writing about the Founders.

 

While I am one of those people who has fond memories of a father, many indeed do not. That is one of those undercurrents of general society, the results of which cause far more problems than we may realize.

 

To understand the significance of fathers, we must put them in context with mothers. No one in his right mind disputes the importance of motherhood. The reasons are numerous and obvious, especially in the birthing and nursing of infants. But men can simply walk away. Sometimes they die too young. Oftentimes, the duties of citizenry carry them to distant, dangerous shores, even for years at a time. Consequently, many in society step up to help the grieving mother raise her children. But it can never be enough.

 

Because a strong woman can indeed raise her children in the absence of a father, we sometimes tend to start thinking that, maybe, the need for a father is not all that important after all. I think that no one would disagree with that more than many of those strong mothers.

 

Because men and women differ from each other in several important respects, neither parent can completely replace the other, no matter how valiant the effort. This is why single mothers so often seek for their children the companionship of her brother, her father or other male relative, while perhaps keeping a sharp eye out in case the second Mister Right happens along.

 

Boys, of course, need a father figure to role model for them the male strengths of physical, emotional and spiritual responsibilities. Going fishing with Mom is not quite the same, even if she can thread a worm onto a hook with the best of them. More importantly, seeing Dad bring the paycheck home to Mom, seeing him treat her with love and respect, seeing disputes settled to mutual benefit – these are examples that no one woman by herself can impart to her sons.

 

But girls also need a father, no less so than boys. Dad could never fix her hair just so, advise her on beauty and style, and teach her poise, as well as a mother. There is one thing that Dad can do, and with a ferocity unbecoming a mother and that is to warn his daughter of the wiles that certain boys will practice upon an unsuspecting virgin if they think they can get away with it. For the boyfriend, meeting Mom may be an awkward experience, but meeting Dad can remind him how precious life really is.

 

Dad’s example of behavior toward his wife shows the young lady what she can and should expect from boys. If they cannot live up to the standards of respect and honorable affection that Dad exemplifies, then she is much more likely to avoid falling into a trap.

 

For quite a time, American society seemed on the verge of dispensing with fathers entirely, even vilifying them to some extent. Fortunately, that has changed, and the importance of fathers is once again recognized.

 

Even though I lost my Dad when he was 88 years old (nearly ten years ago), I sometimes still mourn him, and still wish that I had him to turn to at times. However, his legacy of hard work, moral responsibility, and faithfulness, remains an enduring treasure in my life.

 

For those who have endured the loss of a father, or never known one, we should be sensitive and caring. They have indeed lost a treasure which can never be replaced. But in salving their loss, we should never under value it. Perhaps it is those fatherless children who can indeed place the highest value on fatherhood, who will understand how difficult it can be without a father. Perhaps it is they who will restore fatherhood to its rightful place in the American family.

 

So, to all fathers and grandfathers everywhere, I wish you a happy and meaningful Father’s Day. You may not have (yet) founded a nation, but you have indeed, in an important capacity, continued to fulfill the role that our Founding Fathers set forth, to secure the blessings of liberty for posterity.

Merci, Papa … A Father’s Day Tribute from our Northern Neighbour

As I turned 68 this last May, my own father celebrated his 88th birthday a few days before me. How lucky am I to have my father alive, aware and as healthy as one can be at his age? Very I would say.

Both my parents are still with me and as I am entering the twilight of my life I watch them walk together as they have for almost seventy years towards the end of theirs. Being French Canadian the history of my family on both sides goes as far back as the Canadian Mayflower can go. My mother’s Bilodeau family settled in the 1600’s in a French settlement in the Province of Quebec known as Trois Rivières (Three Rivers). A hundred years later, my father’s Vallee family followed and settled along the same River. But they did not meet there. Instead, their ancestors travelled thousands of miles across Canada to a little farming settlement in St. Lina, Alberta where my parents met in school and married in August of 1941. Always a thorn in my father’s side that my mother’s family made it to the shores of Canada first! He is a very competitive fellow!
 
After their marriage, they followed my Bilodeau grandparents to the west coast of British Columbia but Dad missed farming. He had grown up close to the land all of his life and it had long been his dream to have his own. After I was born in 1942, they went back to St. Lina where the hardest years of their lives together took place. Dad had bought what he thought was a great little piece of land to farm but no matter how hard he worked that land it never gave him much back. The house was nothing more than a log shack which was drafty and cold in the winter and hot as an oven in the summer. I can remember growing up so poor I never had a pair of shoes that fit. To this day, my toes are permanently curled because of that, but I never complained.

See I never knew we were poor! Living on a farm with my three brothers and two sisters – life was good! We were always up to all manners of antics that drove my mother nuts; but my father? He made sure we all knew how proud he was of our courage to try new things. Come to think of it when he did disapprove of what we did – like the time I stole one of our Clydesdale horses and he caught me riding it into town – a sore butt was something to boast about!

I can remember winter months when Dad was gone. There was no money to be made off the land then so he would take the train into British Columbia or up towards the tundra line where money could be made in the forests. One year he came home badly hurt. A saw had almost taken his arm off but it never stopped Dad. As soon as he could, he was off again finding ways to keep his family fed.

He tried his best to make a living in St. Lina but in the end the only thing that land turned out to be good for was growing rocks. I think I must have picked and piled a million of them off that land. Next day Mother Nature would give birth to a few hundred more and we would start all over again.

It was a poor life but an awesome life. One winter we had gone to Mass for the Christmas Eve service and Dad bundled all of us down in the back of the wagon. I was an altar boy that year so it was a big night for me. I got to wear a suit that was too big for me along with shoes shined so bright you could see your face in them (that were of course too small). It was an exciting night and I can still I can still feel the bite of the winter cold as we made our way back home. The moon was so big that night it seemed to follow us no matter which way Dad took us. In fact, I ended up keeping my head under the blankets because it scared the heck right out of me.


When we got home, I told Dad of my fear and how I felt shame that as the eldest son I could not be braver. He told me a story of one night when he had gone into town to ‘play pool’ with the boys. On his way back, he had to pass the graveyard, but every time he took a step, he heard someone moaning! Scared him so bad he ran all the way home only to find out the next day that someone’s cows had broken out of their fence and taken up residence in the graveyard! I think I was six when all this took place. Then he told me he had been sixteen years old when that happened to him and I was the only one he had ever told about how afraid he had been – of a cow. Dad always has a way of making me feel better.

Dad tried for about fifteen years to make a go of it on the farm but finally ended up losing it. So we headed back to British Columbia and were a nervous bunch of kids. See we only spoke French and that was a problem because we were moving to an English area of Vancouver. Dad had already thought things out and there was a funny looking box in the living room with knobs on it he told me to ‘turn on.” First time in my whole life, I had ever seen a television. It was to be my first love and that summer all of the Vallee kids learned English by watching all the shows we could from sign on until sign off. By the time we started school we were just as English as the rest of the kids thanks to Dad.

All through my life, he has been the strongest influence on me. When my first marriage fell apart, it was Dad who advised me to keep the house we had bought. So I did. I think my first wife and I had paid twenty thousand dollars for it. When I met and married Linda, I sold that house for over two hundred thousand dollars to buy another one. Best advice I ever got in life was always from my father.

He was not someone I ever thought I wanted to be like and yet every day I find things I do and say are like sitting down and talking to him. It is funny how your parents become an actual part of your way of speaking and doing things. People say I am more like my mother but if I give my kids one half of the good advice my father gave me during my life – I will be happy.

I hope to have no regrets come the day Dad is gone. I spend as much time as I can with him but of course, to him it is never enough. With a wife, seven children and seventeen grandchildren my wife and I are blessed to have both sets of our parents still with us but we are always wondering if we do enough for everyone. Especially our parents.

I recall a close cousin of mine saying at the passing of his father that “I am now officially an orphan.” Marcell was 62 at the time and his father 90 so it was a statement that struck me as being a very odd one. Until I thought about it again. I cannot imagine I will ever be an orphan. My father will always be my father no matter where we happen to be. In this life or the next.

 I know I am lucky that every couple of days I can pick up the telephone and at the end of that conversation, I get to tell my Dad I love him. In fact, I think I will give him a call right now and ask him for his take on that hockey game last night. He loves the Vancouver Canucks and Boston wiped our nose last night. Dad will have the answers. He always has. Funny thing is now my kids think I have all the answers too. It must be something I inherited … from my Dad. I hope so.

Merci père et Happy Day de pères. Je t’aime

Votre fils,
Camille Vallee

Thank you, Father and Happy Father’s Day.
I love you.
Your son,
Cam

 

TBP Praiseworthy – June 15, 2011

Recommendations from the Publisher …

The Bold Pursuit has published some incredible, thought-provoking articles (and, now, our weekly cartoons by Noel Alcoba) since our last Praiseworthy — it’s a challenge to select just a few for our readers.

Let’s start with our favorite weekly columnist, John Wayne Tucker, who is also our new Social Media Consultant. (The Bold Pursuit is now on Twitter, Digg, Facebook and Freedom Torch, as well as other websites. I hope you’ll follow us on Twitter and Friend us on Facebook.)

John, author of JWT’s Journal, presented a thoughtful multi-part series on some of the problems America now faces (Part IV will publish on next Monday, June 20): “Just a Few of America’s Most Significant Problems” tackles immigration issues, the loss of American jobs and the dire consequences of our national debt. Check in on Monday for the conclusion to his four-part series. Here’s the link to John’s page: JWT’s Journal

Guest author, Scott Kuhnen, wrote a disturbing and well-documented two-part article about the collusion of Islam and Nazi Germany and the lessons radical Islam learned from the Third Reich which they still practice today. This piece is not an anti-Muslim presentation, but a historical look at actual events. I highly recommend “The Muslim Brotherhood and The Third Reich” Parts I and II.

Our new political cartoonist, Noel Alcoba, uses images to convey what most authors write in a thousand-word blog. Please take a look at “The Media’s “Crush” on Sarah Palin …,” “Obama Propaganda: The Bumper Sticker Fix” and “Creative License…”

Robert Arvay is now our Contributing Writer for The Patriot’s Notepad. After much arm-twisting and threats to circulate his emails to the media, he finally accepted the gig. Robert’s work has graced our pages for the past year; his latest oeuvres, “The Price of Freedom, the Cost of War” and “Newt Gingrich — The GOP Fault Line” demonstrate Robert’s astute political observations and his Mother’s Day tribute is a lovely, sentimental piece that you’ll enjoy reading, “Dear Mom: An Inspiration in this Life.”

Another frequent guest blogger on TBP is Bruce O’Hara. Bruce is also the artist who created the unique banner for The Bold Pursuit — Bruce’s support and the support of his social network, “America Wants Sarah” has helped TBP gain a dedicated visitor base. TBP owes a debt of thanks to AWS! Bruce wrote a very popular blog, “An American Citizen’s Personal “Apology Tour …” This concise and direct blog was featured on TBP’s Home page because it resonates so strongly with many American’s opinion of the current administration. A sample of “Apology Tour …”:

 

“I am a private, unknown, middle class, American citizen. I would like to apologize to the State of Israel and the Jewish people for the President of the United States … Barack Hussein Obama …”

Bruce speaks for many citizens of this great nation who feel the only apology owed is the one for electing Mr. Obama on November 4, 2008. Thank you, Bruce, for expressing so succinctly, what so many of us feel in our hearts.

Jim Mullen, author of http://www.FreedomForUsNow.com, also submits his superbly written articles to TBP, as well as other national news media. We’re always delighted to reprint Jim’s work, including the relevant and topical “The High Cost of Terminating Public Sector Union Members”

Our Northern Neighbour, Canadian patriot Cam Vallee, is a new Staff Writer on The Patriot’s Notepad. Our Northern Neighbour writes with the objectivity of a neighbor and observer. America’s fate affects many in this world; it makes sense that Canadians are interested in our politics.

We’re preparing for the 2012 election cycle by re-purposing Patriotic Perspectives, once again, for Campaign 2012! TBP intends to cover all of the conservative candidates, campaigns, debates, primaries and other events. (We need volunteer writers and editors for this forum, so if you have time to share and a burning desire to contribute some effort in a patriotic endeavor, please contact us.)

Finally, please visit The Bold Pursuit each day this week for our Father’s Day tributes.

Thank you for visiting The Bold Pursuit — we hope you will recommend us to your friends and follow us on Twitter (The Bold Pursuit).

Clio

 

Flag Day, June 14, 2011

The Flag ~ AnonymousSeptember 11, 2011

 
I raised a flag today
A flag with fifty stars
I raised a flag today
A flag with thirteen bars.

 

I raised a flag today
To honor those who died
I raised a flag today
And then I stood and cried.

 

I wept and cursed and prayed
And had to wonder “why?”
Angst and anger welled inside me
And then I saw it fly.

 

The flag snapped briskly in the wind
It unfurled in the sky
Its glory rose above my fears
Its freedom was not denied.

 

The symbol of our country
The banner of our pride
The flag of these United States
Flew boldly at my side.

 

I raised a flag today
But the flag, it lifted me.
I raised a flag today
For all the world to see.

 

I raised a flag today
And upon seeing it, I knew:
Above the dusty, ashen gray would rise 
The red, the white, and the blue.