“YOU MUST MAKE A FRIEND OF HORROR”….

We once lived at the edge of Alva Oklahoma. A wheat field literally ended at my front yard. And the town, not varying more than a few hundred in population since WWII boasted 5500 souls. We were rural.
I got to see my older brother chased by a turkey. I saw my father snap the neck of a chicken and in attempting to cut it’s head off with a bread knife I saw him cut his index finger to the bone. Doing objectionable things is part of life in the country, from gutting fish and fowl to wrapping a come-along cable around a calves feet to pull it from it’s mothers womb, life required we suck it up and get a steady gut.

As the American culture continues to be feminized, we become less and less able to look at the unpleasant realities of life. And like the brat child scaring his sister with a dead frog in his hands, these murdering bastards know we are soft. and easily repulsed. The terrorist gains power from his ability to go where no one else dare go. And the worst terrorist reads your character and designs his terror accordingly. As a culture we have become separated from the basic visceral realities of life. Our gag reflex has a hair trigger and we are truly vulnerable. Hammer says, Man up, when they hang a decapitated head in front of you, French Kiss the head and laugh in their face.

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