What to do with North Korea and other various bad guys?
Well few of these bad guys pose a serious threat to national sovereignty so why do anything?
For the few who do, step one should be an attempt to bribe them to step down and live full and open lives in the world of wealthy men.
I am not saying that would work, and it will work better with a serious threat of effective, america 1st force but it’s a tried and true option.
However that would require a devotion to peace and practical thinking
Ton 2.0 brought his son home today. Another healthy squaling man child for the Clan Ton. I didn’t go see the boy in the hospital. Not my scene these days, but we left for his place shortly after we got the call and let ourselves in we when got there. We did the typical shit one would expect, drank up his best bourbon, fornicated on his kitchen table, took care of his pets, cleaned up the house and cooked a shit ton of food.
There are things that matter more then life to Clan Ton. I learned these things from my father and his father like they learned them from theirs. Well them and our uncle’s, brothers and what not. When my father brought me home to present me to his father I was laid in a bed with a Confederate flag, an 1858 Remington, a King James Bible and some sliver dollars. I still have that photo. But these are things we value, the Old South and all it stands for, freedom and fire power, hard money and the hard ways of the Almighty.
So when Ton4.0 made it home, my boy brought him to me. This small 8 pound bundle of fragile perfection. Full of potential and promise, not weighted down by failure, regert or tye burdens of life. I held him up, said the same Bible versus we always say and laid him down on my son’s bed. Dead in the center of our stars and bars, silver dollars, King James Bible and our forefather’s Remington.
Of course I Tonierized somethings. I bought the boy some fireworks, a bottle of whisky, a Ford hat, a Harley Davidson onesie, a Henry lever action .22 and a gift certificate for a free pit bull tattoo. Of course the gift certificate is fake, but Ton4.0’s mother has more of a sense of humor then I figured.
These things are symbols, they all mean more then the surface image and they are all traditions. A firearm is more then a tool, it’s your sovereignty as Man. Silver is more then hard money vs fiat dollars. It’s wealth based on reality and the opposition to magic thinking. If the Old South has an official dog, the pit bull is it. Loyal, relentless and called the nanny dog for generations.
Some traditions need to die. Plowing with mules makes no damn sense. With any luck Ton2.0 is the last vet from my family. Sometimes new traditions come about. My father and grandfather rode Harleys, same with me and Ton2.0. A goodly amount of having traditions is to reproduce the kind of men and women your family is proud of
I do have a point besides bragging about another grandson. On occasions I hear men bitch about the lack of traditions. Society moves on and change is one of life’s constants, but you have only yourself to blame for allowing your family traditions to die. Only yourself to blame for not creating some. My boys will learn their family’s history, they’ll learn to ride fast, shoot straight and always report the truth. They will know how to hunt, how to fish, and what their forefathers intended to leave behind before yankees fucked shit up. These things are timeless and you can take them where ever you go. I won’t be around to teach my son’s or grandsons these things but I have full faith in Ton2.0 that our family and our traditions will be projected into the next generation
I loved watching the storm last night. I opened all three French doors, pulled the recliner over, grabbed a bottle of apple wine, put my Lady Pit in my lap and settled in. The Girls slid up next to me before long.
I am, at this moment, physically cut off from the rest of the world. Its a good feeling. The road that takes us from my little sliver of the inter-coastal waterways to the main land is under water. Not sure how deep, don’t much care, but it’s a couple hundred feet wide. Don’t much care about that either. If I did, I’d put my kayak in the water and find out the depth, maybe find the road under the water, mark the path and drive my truck into town. If driving to town is posdible. Doesn’t seem to be much of a current but if there was, it woukd only take me to town. Which I am happy enough to be separated from.
It’s a peaceful easy feeling. We lost power some time back. Made our inlet nice and quiet. Of sorts. The storm was noisy, but there is no hum from the refrigerator either. I have a generator. Haven’t used it yet. I am enjoying the sounds of nature, family and my neighbors to much. Maybe I’ll crank it up when I run out of ice. Yeti coolers are money, so maybe I won’t run out of ice.
I was up early as I always am and the 1st thing I noticed (beyond the Hell jounds and the Girls) was the silence. No wind, no rain, no sound from the refrigerator. Quick check of the house while Girl glares and my Lady Pit bounces around. Neither would go out for the bathroom in the rain. Ton Spawn was sleeping in, the storm kept him up, the house was intact.
The water is high, maybe 5 ft, right at the edge of our retaining wall and over lapping my dock. We use to be surrounded by wet lands. To our front, the river/ bay, ocean and one of our larger and more popular barrier island. Which i am sure did its protecting us from the wind and storm surge. On the other three sides was wet lands and a road. Now they are under Lord only knows how much water. I climbed up to the roof/ bbq area of my boat shed and checked out my street. We all did well. The one tree in my street, happens to be in my yard, fell. Ground was to wet to hold it, and it fell across the street. Not much of a tree or obstacle but since you can’t really drive around it now, it needed to be #1 on my to do list. Our little road was cut, and since no one was hurt, or in immediate danger, restoring our high speed avenues of approach became the priorty #1.
I love the silence. We are always quiet, but this morning it was silent. I wanted to keep it going so I used a pocket saw instead of a chain saw. Made two cuts, which made three peices of tree and cleared the road. A short walk took me tout the next obstacle. Water. The road was cut at the community boat ramp. Not much one can do about that so I turned around and walked back.
And I do have power of sorts. Couple solar panels, couple of deep cycle marine batteries and we have been keeping our phones and tablets fully charged. Could do the same with either the truck or the SUV, but I haven’t cranked either. My neighbors have. In fact the guy at the far end of the road has a small generator going. I hear it occasionally and he came by to let us know we could stash food in his freezer, charge our phones etc. Which we took advantage of. The food storing.
He laughed when I told him I had a generator but wasn’t using it. They all think I am crazier then a shit house rat but seem to enjoy my company any which way
I did cook for everyone earlier today. By God’s good graces we don’t have much clean up to do. Us even less because I stashed most of our stuff. Nothing major, burgers and dogs, some chicken and fish. Stuff we needed to cook before it went bad. I cooked, kept an eye on some older kids and drank slightly chilled homemade wine while they all worked.
One of the other guys tried to AMOG me. Some lame joke about me cooking and baby sitting. I laughed, said I didn’t want to break a nail and took a long pull off my bottle of wine. Amature. There he was picking up various bits of debris, there I was enjoying myself, grilling, drinking and watching the kids and dogs run.
It’s a pretty good life
Truly we are blessed
Life is funny. I could tell the road being cut bothered some people. A quick plan, made up on the fly settled them down. Overt displays of masculine confidence and mastery over the world around you always settles the bitches. Of both sexes. The Girls slid up next to me after the ad-hoc meeting. Daddy likes
All the shit I have on hand for emergencies and I’m not really using any of it. It’s been a very mild disaster for us. More like camping at home. I could be bossier, but why?
I had some regular non treated 2×4’s stashed in the rafters of my garage. A little work with a hand saw and now we have some fire wood. I invited the neighborhood over, all 5 families but not sure any will show up.
Almost everything amuses me. This storm hasn’t been any different on that front. Was interesting watching the Betas be stoic and sort of flippant about the storm. Good, strong family men. Yeoman worthy of the tittle. The kids have had a blast. My Lady Pit has run wild today because there is no place for her to run off to now that we are a mini island. She has knocked all the kids down at least once. On purpose each time. Girl hasn’t left Ton Spawn or the Girls alone. She sticks to them like glue these days. I can tell the other dudes wives are happy. Their men were right, no need to evacuate, they can now rest in the strength and decsion making skills of their man. Lest for a few days.
Everyone enjoyed that feeling you get when things are better in the morning. I could tell they all took pride and enjoyment out of cleaning up after the storm, pride and enjoyment in the various clever tricks they came up with to over come the obstacles of having no power, running water and what not. Plus the shared experience of sheltering in place
Time to go put sauce on the chicken and check my trout line before it’s fire pit, wine and pitching woo time
I know many folks are suffering right now, but the Lord was kind to me and mine last night.
Y’all take care now
Well, I mighta’ been born just poor white trash
But I sold a million records; made a little cash
The doctors and the lawyers don’t think it funny
That they’re living next door to white trash with money
We were out on our dock, bbq’ing, swimming, drinking a little wine, setting off fireworks, being to lazy you put the boat in the water… enjoying a little family time when that song came on the iPod. Ms Dumb but Sweet laughed and said something like “Daddy, this should be your theme song”, before turning it up and dancing like a loon. She is my joy and yeah…. not funny in the retelling, but we all chuckled at the time. Expect Ton Spawn. He almost never laughs or smiles.
She was funny in the moment, as she normally is, but her observation is false. Not the born poor White trash part, or the making a little money part but we don’t live next to doctors or lawyers. We pretty much live next to blue collar sorts.
All the houses around us are on a lake, deep, clear clean water. No high speed motorboats allowed. Everyone has a lake view. Way more trees then people. 5.5 mile round trip walking trail, mostly river front, takes you to another lake community. Trees and ridge lines separate us from the rest of the world. A little shack, and old man with a glock keeps out the rift raft. MostIy the houses are 2400 sqft and up, no lot under 1/3 an acer. Hell the cheap condos go for 180k.
The beach house is on the inter-coastal, 7 houses in a row. All with our own dock, boat lift, boat house, and personal boat ramp. Houses vary a lot more but terrain dictates a lot. We all have those stilt houses. Lots are perfect rectangles, 6 out if the 7 are 1/2 acers of flat grass. One guy has a pool, we have a mini elevator, fishing clean station, outdoors fresh water shower and a hot tubel Wet lands means no more development around us. It’s only us down there so very little boat or road traffic.
Anyrate, it got me to thinking ( dangerous pass time I know) but none of my actual neighbors are doctors or lawyers. They come as renters for a week or two(@ the lake resort), many to the same house year after year but my neighbors are construction related business owners. Almost universally. One guy owns some fast food joints, another is a former entertainer, 2 are in real-estate, one dude makes his money off golf…. couple of former CEO’s….. no doctors, no lawyers, but we do have an Ivy leaguer. I even looked through the homeowners association stuff that list all the owners with short bios
I know less about my neighbors at the beach. I avoid the area during the peak season, but love it there in the fall, winter and spring so I am only now logging any serious time there. One is a local, pimping Lord knows what to terrorist… I mean tourists. One is in good ol’ HVAC, one does large scale drainage and pipe stuff. Most of my money comes from trucking. Blue collar for 4 out of the 7 of us on that little section of the inter-costal water way. 5 out of the 7 live there full time, family comes and go, seemingly at will, but none of us rent to vacationers.
The question is, do lawyers, doctors and the “educated elite” lack the disposable income to be owners? Not that they don’t make enough money, but is their overhead to high? Student loans, keeping up with the jones etc…. Those types of degrees and professions are rather common. You’d think we’d live next to one. The median salary for those gigs aren’t very impressive. Or is it cultural? Do they lack the free time to enjoy owning second homes, making renting a place a few weeks a year the more rational choice? Do they choose more upscale resort type locals? Making two spererate UMC/ UC americas? And if that is so, does that make america more or less fragmented? Are they rootless? Enjoying 6 weeks of vacation a year, 2 weeks at a time at a different spot every time vs the family ties building block type deal of owning second homes, going to the same lake, taking the same boat, to the same couple of spots to catch the same kind of fish, year after year, world without end, amen? Do they choose more urban locations?
None of it particularly important but it got me to thinking
The Ton Life is a life long quest for Freedom, Firepower and FuckYeah! (FFPFY) “(c) 2016 Ton’s Place”. … ie Bikes, Booze, Brawls and Bitches. In that order but men age and things change….
What is Freedom, FirePower and FuckYeah! ? FFPFY is the masculine life taken to its limits, the rush men feel when living an unrepentant, unapologetic life of unreconstructed masculine Frame. It’s that combination high of testosterone and adrenaline as you knee drag your 1st corner, pull your 1st big deadlift, land that trophy bass…. it is fleeting and addicting, pushing you toward knee dragging the next corner.’ FFPFY is being fully alive vs the mass of living dead seen shuffling around you. It’s also the only addiction worth having and I reckon all other addictions are a proxy high for the adrenaline/ testosterone combo. Addictions to pussy, booze, pills or cards leave men broken, hollow and shambling around in the same living dead condition as the zombies on Walking Dead or that sparky who lives three doors down. Addiction to testosterone and adrenaline may very well lead to a broken body and a short life, but it gives your kids great ways to brag about their Old Man and you damn sure won’t be hollow inside.
Freedom the absence of necessity, coercion, or constraint in choice or action
the quality or state of being exempt or released usually from something onerous <freedom from care>
the quality of being frank, open, or outspoken
boldness of conception or execution
Now that’s some scary shit if you are a bitch ( either the kind with a gash or dude without balls). Men doing what they want? Cannot have that. They might drink a little to much, spend some time mudding around their favorite fishing hole, refuse to wear a seat belt or helmet… hell they might even smoke in public and not work those extra 400 hours a year to support some ungrateful bitch I mean loving wife. He might just smoke a little weed, lose some money at cards, not be heard from for three days because his dog is better company then his old lady and kids or because the deer stand more fulfilling then some bullshit job. His employer might have to make a little less money off him, Madison Avenue might not be able to con him into buying shit he doesn’t need, church pews might be a little less full and the man hating preacher out of simps to AMOG, the government might have to do with a little less tax revenue and banks might have to make a little less off their usury…. and bold open non politically correct language might hurt someones wittle feelings…. O the humanity
Sounds an awful like they hate your Freedom because you might choose not to live a life of soft slavery.
FirePower is the military capability to direct force at an enemy…… Firepower involves the whole range of potential weapons. The concept is generally taught as one of the three key principles of modern warfare wherein the enemy forces are destroyed or have their will to fight negated by sufficient and preferably overwhelming use of force as a result of combat operations.
Through the ages firepower has come to mean offensive power applied from a distance……is thus something employed to keep enemy forces at a range where they can be defeated in detail or sapped of the will to continue.
Best definition I’ve read in a while right there but for our purposes a Man’s FirePower isn’t only about the gun in his pocket(though you better have one). It’s about his Frame, the strength of his mind and his iron will.( read G Gordon Liddy’s book Will) A man who values his Freedom doesn’t want to live that life of soft slavery. A man with FirePower will resits that soft slavery. He’ll ignore the shaming language and the man up rants. He won’t be cowed by his boss, he won’t give a fuck what the so called elites have to say, He won’t tip his hat and say yes sir to some petty tyrant with a badge
FuckYeah! isn’t simply an expression of defiance, or a quite resignation toward a job that needs doing. It’s a a statement of excitement. It’s not simply a willingness to engage in risky behavior, or to rebel for the sake of smashing shit. It is a statement full of joy and lust for the challenges ahead. It is not “let’s do this”; it is “let’s roll ’cause this shit makes my cock hard”
It’s difficult to control men who are hooked on testosterone fueled Freedom, FirePower and FuckYeah……resistant to manipulation, difficult to control, difficult to predict, primal and bordering on the feral….. which is why nice guys, the nanny state and women fear it.. Want to know why they beat the masculinity out of little boys? It’s because they fear he’ll grow into a man, unbowed, unyielding, wild, free and dangerous. Weak men and women are driven by fear and their need to control life around them to offset their fear.
Don’t let the bitches win; don’t let them turn you or your son or the dudes in your crew into bitches.
This post fueled by moonshine, homemade muscadine wine and the two sexy ass bitches singing in my shower
How do we defeat them?
Support and sustain power of the American Patriarch
Embrace the role of the American Patriarch
Rebuild the family
Restore the culture
Way back when monogamy, Patriarchy, family and culture held the upper hand they all failed as a bulwark against the progressive agenda; why would it work to reverse it? It fucking won’t
That is not a plan of a man worthy of the title. That is the plan of a nice guy who wants to talk big and get likes on his facebook page
Well Ton, mr smartie pants, what is the way to defeat them?
There is one peaceful solution; voluntary dissolution of the union and the relocation of liked minded people. But that shit won’t happen either. damnyankees, jews, women, negroes, taco benders etc all despise liberty, family, faith, culture, tradition and Patriarchy
We either stack the bodies up like cord wood or we will be replaced in the land of our forefathers. Hell the yankees of 1776 have damn near been replaced by the White ethnics/ cheap ; labor they allowed to flood in to man factories.
They are not the people of jefferson’s posterity nor are they allies in regaining what our forefather bequeathed us