What if they had a war and nobody knew?

Dear Readers and ACL supporters,

My apologies for not responding to all your very thoughtful comments to my last couple posts. I have no excuse other than I came down with a case of Iditamania and have been completely absorbed in the race! Until now, I never understood the passion people have for the Iditarod. I studied it, because of the auctions we held, but I wasn't ever what you could call a fan.

So, it's not over yet and the end is very exciting right now. John Baker, the first Coast Native who may ever win the Iditarod Trail Race is in the lead, so I'm still not going to respond to all of you, yet. But I do feel I need to address the comments coming in regarding what I said about my dad beating me up, and my brother's assurance to me that it was the right thing for Fred to do.

First of all, I said it somewhat figuratively. "Beat me up" was just a basic concept of how he reacted. I feel terrible that I mentioned it at all now, because it had a different meaning for me and my brother than it did for some readers.

There was a method to my dad's training and by the time I was a woman I understood and appreciated it. He was preparing me to do battle with some powerful enemies.

Explain to me why I'm the ONLY one who stood fast for the people in my neighborhood when the communitarians invaded in 1999. It took every ounce of courage and training Fred drilled into me to stand up to the police and the parade of lawyers and experts who attacked without warning. It was my dad telling me to get all the facts before I made a decision. It was Fred's daughter interrupting the meetings of the land use planners who were operating under the premise that our 4th and 5th Amendment Rights had been balanced. More often than not, I was completely alone at these crucial meetings, where communitarian liars like Jody Kretzman were plying their wares to an unaware and unsuspecting citizenry.

I didn't stop fighting for our rights just because the planners had more power and I could get "hurt." I didn't run and cower in a corner whining about what was happening to us, like many in my neighborhood did. The fact is most of my neighbors thought I was a fool for believing in American justice at all! Besides my daughter and siblings, nobody has ever completely understood why I was so willing to throw down 100% of my weight and hold the line.

My dad was a devoted American patriot of the old school. I was raised by a man who lived by his principles, right or wrong. So hell no, I didn't flinch when the Community cops got in my face and sneered and threatened me. The more the Seattle government tried to intimidate me, the braver and more determined I became. As the years passed and more insults and threats became the norm in my life, I didn't slink off and start writing romance novels. I got to work and built the biggest website about communitarian plans, programs, laws, theories, and players in the entire world. Then, because it took every waking moment to do this unfathomable lone feat, I went camping, made a camp that would have made my fastidious dad proud, just so that my overhead was low enough to keep me writing for the ACL.

You think people like me are born with the desire to help protect what's right and ours, for everyone and not just ourselves? No. My dad taught me to fight for all our freedom, because there's always someone who wants to steal it away. He taught me that strong people like us have to defend the weaker members of society because they cannot defend themselves.

Was he a tough son of a bitch? Oh yes he was. Did he treat us in ways that would cause his arrest today? Most certainly. But will you ever see the likes of me in the future generations you protect with your peaceful and loving child rearing laws? No, you won't.

My dad was a realist. He "proceeded by way of observation, not by way of illusion."

There were many, many honorable lessons too, for example, I wasn't allowed to hit women nor throw the first punch. Maybe it's not spiritual to say this, but life is brutal and not everyone wants to "get along." I have had more than one occasion to use my fighting skills in my own self defense, and unlike many women who come from poor working class NCO Army wages backgrounds, I can say I've never been raped. "No brag, just fact."

We can hope and pray all we want for a peaceful coexistence with everyone on the planet, but that's not going to stop LA21 and may actually be part of the way we've been duped into crying in our beer and wine while we watch our freedom get flushed down the toilet. This is WAR. It's very real. I think it's funny as hell that I am one of the few trained soldiers America has in the field, and some people think I should change my tactics and start preaching peace. Sorry, but I'd rather win (as in: not give in) this war against communitarian terrorism. What kind of peace agreement do you think we can get with murderers, liars and thieves who hide behind a veil of charity? What concept of peace would you have me expound on? Yours? or mine?

I can probably never explain our dad in a way gentle souls who are horrified by violence can understand. My brother knows that my father called me Tiger all my life, because we had a very special relationship based on shared core values. He helped me become the kind of person who is nice to everybody but will fight back and defend themselves or others in an unjustified attack, no matter what it takes, no matter how long it takes, even if it means certain death.

Plus, my basic training under Fred ended when I was 19. I'm 54. Lot's happened since then. :)

Know this: U.S. Army Retired Sgt Major Fred Friedrich is the only reason my research exists for you to use. We wrote Part One of the Anti Communitarian Manifesto, "What is the Hegelian Dialectic?" specifically for him in 2002. Part Two was written in 2003, specifically for the cowardly and seditious foreign military agent who founded the Communitarian Network, Dr. Amitai Etzioni.

A special hello to my brother and his co-workers down in Boise! Hold fast!

Tiger