When the lambs is lost in the mountains, he said. They is cry. Sometimes comes the mother. Sometimes the wolf.
Cormac McCarthy, in Blood Meridian
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Sometimes the wolf. Yes, sometimes the wolf.
The wolf. He runs in packs. See one, know that another is close at hand … and … they have their companions.
Nothing is more disconcerting than knowing the likes of Jimmy Carter, and now Barrack Obama, Hillary Clinton, Ben Carson, Donald Trump, et al.
Why you ask?
They do not know what Cormac McCarthy knows. Like their followers, they are blind and deft lambs in a forest of wolves.
Inexperienced. Ill-equipped. Unrealistic. Sheltered. Misguided. Wrong. Lost.
In a world of wolves, one must have been cut, bled, fought back, stood up to others bigger than oneself and more menacing. Encountered those who will kill you, and be happy to do so.
My fortune was knowing the ones who would chop you up into small pieces and put you in a trash compactor, so that all traces of you were eradicated. “Doing the Houdini” they called it.
Likewise, those who pulled your teeth from your mouth after killing you, so there would be no identifiable elements of you when, and if, your body was discovered.
Yes, that was my forest and those were my wolves.
Wolves have their way. And they teach a necessary lesson. A lesson of life and survival: where blood soaks earth, where Abel meets Cain.
It does not pay to choose a shepherd who does not know well the wolf and his world.
Russians and Turks. The Ukraine. Russia in Syria. The idiotic unleashing of the factious “Arab Spring,” the failed rescue of the Iranian hostages, the idiotic Hillary Russian “reset button,” unprotected emails and unauthorized servers, the Iran nuclear “executive agreement,” power vacuums for ISIS, unwillingness to say “radical Muslim terrorists,” the shame of Benghazi, unsecured borders, The Boston Marathon Bombing, Fort Hood shootings, closing “Gitmo,” watering down intelligence reports, unilateral presidential action and decision-making, dispatching of our best military officers, excusing deserters, fear of engagement and use of force, grave warnings laid down and then abandoned, vacating the Middle East, abandoning Israel and our allies, withdrawal from the world …
There is no withdrawal. The wolves find you. They roam. They hunt. They are made that way.
Sometimes the wolf.
God and men of war have strange affinities.
No God, no men of war. Then, no lambs. Only the wolf.