Tough Choice

Paul Mirengoff , of Power Line Blog, has a post about the kneeling shit- head, second rate quarterback, of NFL fame. He relates comments made by a Federal Judge about the plaintiff in another discrimination case.

Sure, this guy was discriminated against. But he wasn’t discriminated against because he’s black and he wasn’t discriminated against because he’s over 40. He was discriminated because he’s an asshole.

Federal Judge
Nailed it!

I say mostly right because Mirengoff and the judge failed to make the distinction between “natural born assholes” and “self made assholes.”

Natural Born Assholes can’t help it, that is just who they are. They go through life wearing a “kick me” sign that they cannot see. They may achieve fame or riches but that has nothing to do with brains or talent. If they have a sound track, it would be “Born Under a Bad Sign”

Self Made Assholes achieve their status through hard work. There generally is no debate, as to their status. The debate between supporters and detractors is whether being a self made asshole is a positive or negative trait.

Friends, family, coworkers, crooks, girlfriends and an ex-wife all agree I’m an asshole. I accept it and try to remain at the epitome of assholedom. It takes work.

I wasn’t born that way. I’m a product of my environment. Thirty years a cop, helps. Something happens when you tally up the lies and find out the police chief and district attorney lie to you more often that than the crooks. Wearing a bullet proof vest engenders a mixed reaction. There is something wrong, when fear of getting it in the back increases when you enter the police station.

Try going through a door with a fellow officer hundreds of times, knowing there is people with guns on the other side. Then put together a criminal case that will send that same officer to Federal prison for a decade. What is the nature of betrayal?

I keep in mind a promise a Texas Ranger made to himself, long before he was a Ranger. I knew who he was. I had no reason to believe he knew my name or my current circumstance. (I was trying to get the Chief of Police indicted. It didn’t work.) In a chance encounter, he stopped me and addressed me by name.

He related the following: In WWII, he was a Marine aviator. The morning before he climbed into his aircraft to support the landing in Tarawa, he was scared. He made a vow: “God, let me survive today and I promise I will make one person happy, every day, for the rest of my life.”

He survived. He went on to say that he kept his promise. “Everyday, when I shave. I look in the mirror and see one happy son-of-a-bitch.”

I took his words to heart. The son-of-a-bitch looking out at me may not be all sweetness and light, but I don’t shave by braille.

I am where I am by design. It remains to be seen if intelligent design was involved.