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Getting What You Paid For

I have an FST (friendliness span time) of about 6 hours. Well, actually, that’s an FSTWWWNP (friendliness span time when working with new people). The other day I had to purchase a new set of security certificates for a company I work for. We thought we’d try a new provider, someone with much lower prices. After downloading the new SSL certs, I realized that I was in a bit of trouble. It wasn’t working with our system the way I thought it should. I was getting ready to get angry; all of the signs were there: imaginary conversations with the sales people who sold this to me, a tart response (imaginary as well). I would subsequently unleash my flotilla of clandestine miniature aerial raid surveillance and attack dirigibles. While tracking the sales people on video, I would soon be firing paint-balls at them. Don’t ask how I would zoom in on the sales people, much less know the location of the place of business that I had only contacted via phone and website. It’s top-secret.
I was mentally prepared. Contacting the provider company the next day, and explaining the difficulty, I found that their support was great. The sales and tech people were cordial. They got me through it. There were no paint balls. I got what I paid for, and it wasn’t a serious or life-threatening matter, come to think of it.

Sometimes we don’t get what we pay for. Take the case of a young college student in St. Louis, Missouri, named Phil Christofanelli who took a class at the University of Missouri expecting to learn something about the history and political operations of unions. What Phil ended up learning was, arguably, more than he had paid for. He found himself in a class taught by union organizers who were using a textbook published by an unabashed Socialist publishing company. The class was geared towards indoctrination, recruitment, and tactics.
Much course time was devoted to describing how today’s union activists need to be far more aggressive. The breaking of machinery, sabotaging of operations, stalking of management members was evidently provided in the class as a sort of continuing stream of anecdotal tutorials on how to succeed as a socialist militant thug without really trying. Previously executed methods, such as releasing scads of feral cats into factories where they would end up getting jammed up in machinery or fried in high voltage equipment were discussed with some sort of relish. Where’s PETA when you need them? Oh that’s right they’re way over there on the left too. Oh well, collateral damage… what’s a few hundred dead cats when it’s time to endanger factory workers, destroy machinery, or bust heads?
The head busting union past, and similar violent methods of ensuring some worker job security in later years gave way to something else, and not at the behest of the unions: Easy access to previously unaffordable tools and easy access to knowledge gave workers the clout they needed. Unions were no longer as needed in the trades or anywhere where a well-equipped knowledgeable worker could flourish. Hence we now see the almost desperate, even frightening recruitment tactics at the university level, using the left leaning public institutions (funded, no less, by you and me.) The exposé by Phil Christofanelli, presented on the David Asman show on Fox Business, is a real eye opener. Phil was evidently surprised to find that the class taught by two union activists was not simply an Intro to the structure and history of the unions in America, but actually represented an effort to evangelize hard-hitting, threatening union tactics to young impressionable minds. Just as we have seen an attempt by the Obama administration to return to a time before Bill Clinton’s welfare reform, a time where the nanny state keeps you fed and healthy, a time of debilitating, sequestering and mentally enslaving people who would otherwise be energetically striving for a piece of Freedom and Life, we also see an attempt to return people to a new Old: aggressive, angry hijacking of the only means we have of remaining a free, productive capitalist nation. It’s an attempt to return to that troubled and murky period, sometime after 1917… in Lower Vladivostok


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