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WND Commentary
Carty slugs it out with Compromisin' Sam

By Claire Wolfe
© 1999 Claire Wolfe

This is embarrassing, and you probably won't believe it anyway. But our little mid-nowhere town of Hardyville has one political throwback. This guy actually thinks that the way to get smaller government is to vote for bigger government.

That's right: He thinks you get smaller government by voting, year after year, for bigger, more powerful government. I know. It sounds too crazy for anyone to credit, but there it is.

He calls it "compromise." And we call him "Compromisin' Sam."

Most of us ignore him and go on about our business. After all, there's room in the world for all kinds. But there's one guy who just can't resist getting in Sam's face. Carty -- true blue, retired military, Jesse Ventura lookalike -- gets on Sam every time Sam gets into town. They were at it this week, as they ran into each other near the Statue of the Drunken Cowboy.

A crowd gathered as Carty barked, "If you don't stand for something, you'll fall for anything."

Sam spluttered, "You people gotta quit being so pie-in-the-sky, if you want to get anything done. You look at what you can get, and what you can't, then you accept reality. You compromise."

"I'll compromise," said Carty. "On tactics. But the minute you compromise on principle, you've not only lost the battle but lost your a--."

"But you're gonna lose it, anyway, standing around saying, 'We won't bargain. We have to have everything our own way.'"

"OK. I'll compromise, then. Tell you what: There are 20,000 gun laws in the country and every single one violates the Second Amendment. I want 'em all gone tomorrow. But just to show you I can compromise, I'll settle for having 10,000 of them repealed in the next five years -- and I'll even let Charles Schumer and Dianne Feinstein choose which 10,000. There's your compromise. See?"

"That's ridiculous."

"Is it? But it's not ridiculous to always do half of what the other guys want? Maybe you and your pals can tell me how come compromise means we only move in their direction instead of them movin' in ours?"

Nat Lyons chipped in, "I think I know. I once went down to the Territorial Capital, thinking I might get with the big gun-rights lobby group down there. You know what? They were sittin' around and one guy was sayin', 'Well, we'd really like to have this.' Then everybody else would go, 'Naw, the legislature'll never let us have that.' So then they'd try to figure out what they could get, and that's all they'd ask for. So 'course, the legislature knew they'd take even less. I mean, can you picture the Teamsters starting out saying, 'Well, we can't ask for that 'cause General Motors won't let us have it'?"

"It figures," Carty nodded. "I've heard they do that in D.C., too. One guy who knows told me -- on this new gun-control bill they're still tryin' to get passed -- a gun-rights lobbyist was going to senators and begging them to vote for it, the whole time his big famous group was publicly yellin' about how bad it was. I believed it, because the guy was using the group's old line, 'But if you don't vote for this, you could get something worse.' Where have I heard that before?"

"Have you heard about this Bob Smith guy?" Grouchy asked. "He's not like that. He's up there in the Senate right now, stopping that gun bill from getting into the conference committee. Now, there's a guy who's like the Founding Fathers."

"Yeah," Carty scoffed: "But you know why Mr. Senator Smith's putting on that big show -- I mean, aside from trying to impress people who want him to run for president in a third-party?"


"Because -- and I'm tellin' you his own words, now -- because he wants 'the weaker gun control provisions.' -- House version instead the Senate version. This dude's no hero, takin' a big stand to save the Second Amendment. He's just gun-grabber 'lite.' Then he goes around on talk shows, sayin' he doesn't want any gun control. [Male bovine byproduct.] Don't get me wrong, he's better than the rest of those [bearers of the bar sinister]. I wish more of 'em had his guts. But don't go all starry-eyed. He ain't your savior."

Compromisin' Sam nodded. "That Smith understands reality. You can't buck public opinion."

"[Homonym of buck] public opinion," snarled Carty. "I'm talking about rights."

"You can talk about rights all you want to," Sam says, "but that isn't gonna get you anywhere."

"So where've we been getting with your [unfavored in the eyes of the deity] compromisers?" Carty countered. "Have we gotten some gun-rights back with the NRA making 'reasonable compromises'? Have your pet Republicans stopped us from getting national ID? Have they made government smaller? Got rid of the IRS? What? Tell me."

"They've kept things from getting as bad as they could have," Sam insisted.

"Look, you [child of a politician], things are getting that bad, anyway! You expect me to be grateful because -- thanks to your compromising pals -- it'll take 10 years for us to become complete slaves instead of six? Or 20 years instead of 12? You want me to tell you exactly how grateful that makes me? Let's just get it over with. Let's have it now, right out in the open where we can fight it. The only thing your compromising friends are doing is numbing us down so we'll get used to it and learn to take it."

"But if we just support--"

"You do what you want, bud. But one thing you can stop doing, right now -- and that's asking me to help you and your political pals steer on down the road to tyranny. I don't care whether you're going fast or slow. Here's the fact. I ain't goin' there. So don't waste your time trying to tell me why George Jr. or a new tax or a 'compromise bill' or some other politician who says one thing and votes the opposite deserves my support. Those guys are all going the same direction.

"See that road over there? Hardyville Main Street? It runs in the exact opposite way. Some of the people on it are usin' sports cars and some are usin' 18-wheelers and a bunch more are towin' horse trailers. But not one of 'em's goin' your way. We're goin' toward freedom -- not away from it -- no matter how we have to get there.

"You go wherever you want, Sam. And have a nice trip. But when you find your pals have stranded you in the sagebrush with nothing but a broken down old political wreck, and you're dying of thirst for freedom and can't get a single drop, don't expect anybody to ride to your rescue. You knew where you were heading when you set off."

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