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Fuzzy eloquently puts to words the heartache so many of us are feeling these days. Be sure to read it all.
I look at you sometimes, lately, and I wonder who you are. Remember when God, family, flag and country mattered to you? Remember when you were a melting pot, welcoming legal immigrants into your expansive embrace? Remember when that meant that people who chose, of their own free will, to come here had to assimilate into their chosen adopted country? When such immigrants were happy, even proud, to adopt the language and customs of their new, chosen home (or at least to encourage their children to do so)? Remember when your name inspired pride and unity among your own people and, equally importantly, when that same name inspired (albeit sometimes grudging) respect (and, sometimes, deterrent fear) among the peoples of hostile lands? Remember when your presidents weren’t longing for a “post-American” world?
I do. I remember it well, and I miss it, I miss you. I miss sleeping…
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