Feeding the Homeless: Activist Stands Up to City Government

Most people are used to seeing signs that say, “don’t feed the animals,”  as those signs are posted in parks and zoos. What no one expects to see, however, are signs that say “Do not feed the people,” right?

One of the oldest traditions of Western civilization is giving alms to the poor, including feeding the homeless.  The City of Los Angeles almost made it illegal to feed the homeless.  This is how a group of activists stopped big government in its tracks.

In 2013, Los Angeles City Councilman Tom LaBonge introduced a motion before the City Council prohibiting anyone from feeding the homeless in public rights of way (sidewalks, street corners, open areas).  The councilmen justified the motion on health and food safety reasons.  Libertarian activist Angela McArdle had a problem with the motion.

“Who are they to tell the people they’re not allowed to help the needy?” says McArdle.  According to the paralegal and Libertarian activist, she and her friends have been feeding the homeless for years.  LaBonge’s rationalization for the motion was that it protected the homeless from food poisoning from improperly prepared food.  If people wanted to help them, they would have to incorporate, become accountable to the IRS, open a kitchen, and have their facilities inspected by city, county, state, and federal bureaucrats.

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Open Borders and Private Property After the State

Open borders is still a touchy subject in libertarian and conservative circles.  Many see the concept of open borders as a threat to the nation.  Nationalism isn’t dead, but it’s definitely evolving.  More and more people are coming to the idea that culture and people make a nation, not lines on a map.

America’s borders have changed constantly throughout its history.  Like other nations, America never needed borders for national identity.  Israel is a nation because of the long Jewish traditions from the days when the Israelites were a wandering people, not because nationalist social democrats drew lines on a map of British-occupied Palestine.  In the words of Rabbi Yaakov Shapiro, “We are the Jewish nation.  Our homeland is our Torah, our Holy Bible.”

In Los Angeles County, home of 12 million people, city borders have become irrelevant...

Read more at The Libertarian Republic

Overcoming the Myth of a Divided Libertarian Party

I'm keeping up on current [California] bylaws shenanigans to the best of my ability so I can be a well informed Libertarian Party member and a worthy ambassador between the Party and the general public.

I'm aware of several "faction wars" in the LP, but  I whole-heartedly REJECT this narrative. Every one of these "faction wars" boils down to personality conflicts, and most of those are between people I like!

There are lots of different dreams and ambitions for how wonderful the LP could be.  Frankly, if you're really libertarian about it, there's room for all of it.

My focus is on being one kickass libertarian who maintains positivity and knows that there's room for lots of people and projects in our Party.  We NEED the shirt-and-tie people just like we need the tye-dye crowd. Compromises are possible without torpedoing the Party or its operations.

Every time I walk into a room full of LP members, I know that all of us agree on more than 90% of the issues and philosophies we hold dearest.  That's all I need to know, and the rest is small change.

From now on, the only narrative I'll engage is one of a Party united. We are all Libertarian.

PTSD for Christmas—The Boredom, Dispatch 6

This dispatch is way overdue but thanks for bearing with me.

Catch up with Dispatch 4 and Dispatch 5.

An Afghan policeman stands with a British mercenary

The 24^th day of The Boredom was a lovely, sunny Sunday in Southern California.  I woke up with plenty of time for leisure and knocked through a chapter of Erik Prince’s book Civilian Warriors: The Inside Story of Blackwater and the Unsung Heroes of the War on Terror.  It’s a dynamite read so far, and as a libertarian I like reading about the ups and downs of the military’s private sector.

Later in the morning I took my mom with me to the Christmas service at the First Baptist Church of San Dimas.  The First Baptist Church is the oldest church and building in my town—118 years old.  It’s always been a small congregation—thirty or fewer people usually come to Sunday morning service, and there may be ten or fewer at evening service.  However, it’s the small congregations where I feel most at home.

It’s written that “…if two of you agree on earth about anything that they may ask, it shall be done for them by My Father who is in heaven.  For where two or three have gathered together in My name, I am there in their midst” (Matthew 18:19-20).

The mostly-white church interior was lined at the front with pine garlands and bright red poinsettias, all running along the piano, pulpit, and communion altar.  It was simple but tastefully elegant.  The highlight (other than the Salvation message, which is open to ALL people, regardless) was the Christmas music.

In the first twenty minutes the congregation sang Christmas songs from the old hymnal.  Then, several members either sang or performed on instruments in front of the whole congregation.  Kudos to the Santana siblings and their killer saxophones!  The pastor rounded the service out with a sermon on Luke chapter 2 (the Nativity story).

Later that night, I met the older woman from Riverside for a date at the bookstore.  I honestly don’t know why I like to go on bookstore dates; that’s the one venue where I’m guaranteed to pay more attention to inanimate objects than to the woman.  Nonetheless, this one went fine and we ended up shooting the breeze til nearly three in the morning in the parking lot.

Monday, Day 25, I spent most of my free time hustling and bustling around town, trying to finish up my Christmas shopping.  I had another date with the same lady at night.  This time I went to her home where she surprised me with hot chocolate and marshmallows while we watched old movies by the fire.  Great times!  I ended up making it home around 4 AM, but I still rose and shone at 9.

Tuesday, Day 26, was an interesting mix that reflected a lot about the people I care about and the times in which we live.

We were calling it May Day—Havok’s birthday celebration.  (What is it with all my Navy friends and naming days after themselves???)  Anytime Havok hosts a birthday celebration—or any kind of celebration other than friends just getting together to drink—people know it’s going to be crazy, and it’s going to be fun.

Interior of the Yardhouse

I linked up with Havok—the Navy vet and buddy who trashed Karaoke at Lake Arrowhead—and a few other friends at the Yardhouse Bar and Grill in Chino Hills.  I’ve had nothing but good times there!  After wolfing through a giant plate of California roll—it’s one huge role, kind of annoying, but freaking delicious—and gulping down a Dr. Pepper, we officially started a bar hop.

It was about as fun as it could get for someone who doesn’t drink, but ultimately I was there for Havok’s company (and to see if he had anything to say for himself after ruining a previous Tuesday night).  It was at the second bar we were at that Havok began to get visibly trashed—he always gets cross-eyed and starts conversations about wildly inappropriate topics.

The guys and girls were all huddled around a game of pool, leaving Havok and I alone at a nearby table.  With the others gone, he started reaching deep down again.  I don’t like it when he does this.  If he were honestly getting things off his chest, that would be one thing.  But when Havok reaches down into that deep, dark place, he’s either jumping on the Woe-is-me Wagon, or he’ll look for whatever horrible things he can say to shock his listeners.

He opened up about his depression, his emptiness, his feelings of helplessness.  He talked about feeling like he was absolutely dead inside, and just wanted to get back to his brothers on the special ops teams.   Despite how upset I was with him for getting so drunk, so fast—I knew it was only a matter of time before he’d torpedo the night for everyone—I really couldn’t blame him for hating civilian life.

Here he was, telling me that he lived for the adrenaline rush, lived for being out in the field, out with his fellow operators.  And there I was, packing my days and nights with fun or time-consuming activities and projects, just to distract myself from the fact that I slowly was—and am—going crazy not being back in the desert with my teams and my brothers.  Except I knew I’d be back on base doing what I love soon, whereas Havok may or may not be hired by the private firm he applied for.

However, Havok and I have very different ways of dealing with our boredom and… that nagging feeling of emptiness.  And his is worse, that I’ll admit.  But his coping mechanism has been to drink copious amounts of liquor.  It used to be that getting drunk and partying helped him get his temporary fix.  Nowadays, he gets as drunk as possible, as fast as possible, because passing out and not being conscious for hours at a time is preferable for him over facing his demons.

And then there’s the PTSD.  Picture yourself in this situation: it’s your best friend’s birthday and you’re explaining why it would be wrong for him to kill himself.  “You have every reason and every right to be depressed,” I told him.  “I know you have nightmares, and I know you see that shit in the daytime too.  But the fact stands that you survived.  You’re alive, still here, and our other brothers aren’t.  We owe it to them to live a long and happy life, because they no longer can.  You can’t quit, because they wouldn’t want you to.”

And I’m terribly, terribly afraid that he might quit.  I’m an ex-wino; I know how quickly alcohol can break a good man down into a sub-human lifeform.  The wars in Iraq, Afghanistan, and Africa shattered my best friend, and he doesn’t know how to put the pieces back together, and alcohol turned this once-proud, accomplished operator into a pathetic drunk.  The worst thing for me is I don’t know how to help him.

He somehow held on until we got to the third bar—where he promptly needed to be marched to the car for trying to pick a fight with the one dude who was going out of his way to be nice to our group.  I got into the driver’s seat, Havok climbed into the backseat, and a pretty friend of his climbed into the front passenger seat.  As we talked, I lit up a cigarette.

Havok asked for a drag, took a puff, and started to puke in his mouth—the girl barely reached back and opened his door in time.  After hurling, he passed out in the back seat, face naturally angled to the side.  He was done for the night.  Satisfied that his airway was still open, I gathered the rest of our group, tabs were closed out, and we all went our separate ways for the night (Havok was taken home by our buddy Joker).  It was 11:37 P.M.

Wednesday, Day 27—or should I say DAY ZERO IN MIDDLE EARTH TIME!!!—my dumb ass got carried away writing copious research notes so I missed The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies on IMAX 3D.  I looked at the listings and saw a regular “Real-D” 3D show in the next town a half hour later, so I jumped at that one.  What a fun movie!

I spent most of Day 28, Thursday, with another close friend, Aqua Bat.  He picked me up from home in his brilliant, deep orange Volkswagon Beetle and we went Christmas shopping for our families.  I happened to find the Extended Edition of the second Hobbit installment, The Desolation of Smaug, and I jumped at the chance to buy it.

Aqua Bat loved the Lord of the Rings Trilogy but had never seen the Hobbit movies.  Wrong thing to say to a geek like me!  We promptly finished our shopping trip, swung by my place to grab An Unexpected Journey, and thus began our Hobbit Trilogy marathon.  We powered through both of the films on DVD and then caught a 10 PM show of the third one; I was totally game to see it again!

Around 1:30 in the morning was when Aqua Bat dropped me off at home and my numb, tingly ass went to bed lying on my stomach.

Day 29—Friday morning—I put a gun to my own head and forced myself to write Dispatch 5, despite my overwhelming desire to set up the old PlayStation 2 and play Star Wars Battlefront.  I spent most of the day researching for the Vietnam War project.  In the evening, Aqua Bat threw a kickback with a sweet bonfire in the back yard.

I made good company with a pretty local girl and we hit it off for a good minute.  There was only one problem: she’s a terrible kisser!  I feel guilty as if this makes me shallow or something, but… it was really bad!  I’ve never thought of myself as a particularly good kisser—good as any man who’s been at it for a few years, I suppose—but I really didn’t feel like getting her up to speed.  I guess wedding bells aren’t chiming in this town any time soon.

Saturday, Day 30, I went to the gym and hung out with family.  I stayed home on Saturday night—I was just too damn tired to go out.

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Afghan police and mercenary photo by the U.S. Marine Corps and in the public domain; obtained from Wikimedia Commons.  Yardhouse photo courtesy of Roadtrippers dot com.  Hobbit poster is the property of New Line Cinema, was obtained from Wikimedia Commons, and used in accordance with Fair Use.

Five Libertarian Ideas #16 - YAL Cal Con 2014, Liberty movement activism, war in Ukraine

Ukrainian counter-terrorism operations
In my opinion the Ukrainian army is fully justified in waging counter-terror operations. Had the pro-Russian Ukrainians assembled peacefully and called for plebiscites in their various cities, then I would welcome their secession and voluntary association with Russia. Instead, Russian Special Forces infiltrated the Ukraine and have assembled militias and mobs to use violent measures to conquer eastern Ukraine for Russia. A national army's chief objective is NATIONAL DEFENSE, and the Ukrainian army is doing what it can to defend Ukraine from an invasion. -4/19

Liberty movement activism
Fighting for liberty is a difficult road; assume it's a lonely one. Assume the people you love will stop loving you. Assume your friends will turn their backs on you. Assume that you'll be walking this road ALONE for 20 years. THEN you're ready for anything that may come. Now keep walking, brothers and sisters. -4/22

YAL California State Convention 2014
YAL Cal Con was freaking awesome! It's great to know that libertarians may argue online over stupid differences to the point where they resort to pistols at dawn, but put them in a room together and they party like combat veterans at war's end. -4/27

Russian hypocrisy in Ukraine
So, after admitting that the "Crimean Self-Defense Forces" (a.k.a. the Little Green Men) REALLY WERE Russian Special Forces troops, KGB Colonel Vladimir Putin insists that Russia has NOTHING to do with the self-proclaimed "People's Republic of Donetsk" in eastern Ukraine. Better yet, despite claims that Ukrainian-Russians are liberating themselves from "fascists", the so-called People's Governor of Donetsk is an actual Russian neo-Nazi. -4/27

Possible U.S./UN intervention in Ukraine
I don't support sending my brothers and sisters in arms to eastern Europe to intervene in an ethnic civil war. Ukraine is GOING to lose more chunks in the east to Russia. If Kiev wants to avoid losing ALL of the east to the neo-Soviet Empire, they NEED to hold plebiscites in every eastern county, which must be administered and votes counted by neutral Switzerland. -4/27

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YAL State Conventions 2014 banner courtesy of Young Americans for Liberty

Poem: Chillin' in the Afternoon (in California)

Chillin’ in the afternoon

I lean back and

Forget the clock’s rhythmic ticking,

Ticking away the minutes

And hours of lonely

Vigils on a lover’s island outpost.

The swift summer breeze

Caresses my hair and

Protests the stillness of palm leaves,

Rouses wind chimes from sleep

And sings in the

Hollow of my snow-cold bottle.

Losing myself in history books

And Cuban cigars

Whose smoke dances is my delight.

I pay no mind to outside worries

While the weather’s mild

In my Californio tropical paradise.

They say summer don’t last forever,

But neither do draughts,

And each passing hour of the clock

I ignore is one moment closer

To action,

Charging bulls,

Ringing bells,

Salty tears,

Laughter and wine,

And then my heavy heart
Is free to fly

In search of El Dorado.

* * *

Tropical island graphic from the game 0 A.D. and used via CC BY-SA 3.0 license. San Juan Capistrano image by "Lordkinbote" and used via CC BY-SA 2.0 license. Both images obtained from Wikimedia Commons

"Not In My F-ing Name, Congressman!"

Written in April. Publication was delayed to let the incident die down out of respect for YAL.

This month’s Young Americans for Liberty California State Convention in Fullerton was definitely eventful and entertaining, with the lively high points far outweighing the mid-afternoon lulls of sleepiness. Three events perhaps still cling to the minds of the more than 200 liberty movement activists who attended. First was the great video chat with Congressman Ron Paul. Second was the slot where Campaign for Liberty Chairman (and former Ron Paul presidential campaign manager) John Tate talked about the inside scoops of the 2012 campaign.

Third was the question and answer period with Congressman Dana Rohrabacher of Orange County following his keynote address. Everyone who attended remembers the ‘F’ word being thrown at Rohrabacher following his answer to a question—an answer which so incensed the inquirer that he saw fit to shout that vulgarity to the Congressman. The title of this article is [almost] the verbatim comment made by the angry libertarian purist. I was deeply offended by this.

I met the angry inquirer and talked with him later on at the Liberty on the Rocks social. He’s a pretty cool guy and I highly enjoyed chatting with him and discussing things only libertarians would care about (such as the differences between Bitcoin and Litecoin). Nonetheless, I simply cannot condone the way he conducted himself to the keynote speaker at the convention. It was rash, it was rude, and it reflected poorly on our organization.

I firmly agree with the political proverb that one’s 80% friend is NOT his 20% enemy. This is the case with Congressman Rohrabacher. I know his record and could already tell my much of the content of his keynote address that he’s not libertarian, but rather a states’ rights conservative. Sure, it would be nice if he was libertarian because then we’d have another Justin Amash, but that’s not the case. We in the liberty movement often become so passionately committed to changing the world into a constitutional/free market Shangri-La that we forget that we need to live life on life’s terms, not the other way around.

Rohrabacher in Afghanistan, 1988

It was already kind of Rohrabacher to drop his community appearances and constituent services for an afternoon to come speak at our convention free of charge. Even though there were elements where he disagreed with us, he was being completely honest in explaining his beliefs and opinions, and he never tried pandering to us on the Ron Paul bandwagon. While Rohrabacher disagrees with our organization in some elements of his foreign policy, he’s our 80% friend, but this weekend some people—not just the angry inquirer but also others who tried trolling him into a debate—treated him as a 100% enemy.

Let me stress where he stands on issues near and dear to our organization (and the greater liberty movement):

· Regardless of the reasons behind his motivation, he supports immediate withdrawal from Afghanistan

· He admitted that supporting the Iraq War was the worst mistake he ever made

· He opposes ObamaCare

· He votes against Federal anti-marijuana bills and supports state-level legalization

· He votes YES on Audit the Fed and co-sponsored two previous Fed transparency acts

· He voted NO on NDAA

 

He may not be libertarian, but he’s on our side on most of the issues! People like him ought to be welcomed into our movement, and when people as busy as him come and speak to YAL free of charge, we ought to put our best foot forward. In no way is it inclusive or acceptable for we in the liberty movement to troll our keynote speakers into debates and swear at them.

Remember that we’re all human beings and we’re prone to emotions, but we must not become slaves to our emotion. Adam Weinberg made a great point in illuminating the difference between our basis for discussing issues versus the bases of ultra-leftists and neoconservatives: we base our arguments and presentations thereof on reason while the opposition founds theirs purely on emotion. In this context, some of our members abandoned reason for emotion and it reflected poorly on all of us.

Most people don’t enter the liberty movement by reading Rothbard’s Man, Economy, and State. Most people don’t become libertarian just by reading Atlas Shrugged. However, many do start to change their minds slightly. It’s our blessed opportunity to politely ask questions that compel them to check their premises. Never is it a good idea to be rude, intellectual-elitist, or to use vulgarity. Otherwise, a potentially dedicated member of the liberty movement is lost forever because of those “rude Ron Paul people.”

On a lighter note, Congressman Rohrabacher gave YAL members an open invitation to join him at his office for liberty-themed movies and discussion. Now THIS is an opportunity for us to politely engage an influential person on the issues and also be good ambassadors of the liberty movement!

Who knows, Rohrabacher may become one of us down the line!

**It should be noted that around the time of writing this article, Congressman Rohrabacher voted in favor of NDAA 2013.  While I find this action highly discouraging, I choose to follow Dr. Ron Paul's example of making enemies of no one, choosing instead to reach out and educate.  I hope to have fruitful discussions with Congressman Rohrabacher in the near future, and still have faith that he'll join the ranks of other former neoconservatives in Congress and climb on-board the great train of the liberty movement.

* * *

First image courtesy of YAL.  Second and third images courtesy of rohrabacher.house.gov.

The Hell With 2012 Already

Paul supporters protesting at the GOP National Convention

I remember exactly where I was a year ago when the ball dropped to ring in 2012.  I was sitting in the common room of the lodge at the YMCA camp in Bluegrass, Iowa.  New Years itself was more boring than a Ben Stein lecture on hygiene, and I was incredibly pissed that a few pricks hadn’t invited me to go clubbing with them at the Iowa City college bars.  Even still, I was surrounded by the company of Matt Pagano, Cory Chenard, and a bunch of other good people.

We were all working together to usher in Ron Paul’s victory in the Iowa Republican Caucuses and start the momentum that would bring him victory after victory and then the Republican Party nomination for the Presidency.  2012 quickly brought us a major disappointment as we watched how Fox News was quickly able to hijack his leading momentum with propaganda.  January 3 was a disappointing night for us.  We’d worked incredibly hard and we were defeated.  What a way to start the year off!

I continued with school, work, and local activism.  In May I happened to meet one of the most beautiful people I’ll ever know—beautiful on the inside and out—who was able to change me for the better in just a short amount of time.  We dated, we decided we would be exclusive, and that the long distance wouldn’t deter us.  Perhaps she wasn’t ever serious about it.  Perhaps I was too naïve to expect large bumps in the road.  Maybe I even realized subconsciously that it wouldn’t work, but my desire to live in the idealized “Zach’s world” made me blindly overlook her faults.

Somewhere along the way our relationship turned from a mutually loving give-and-take experiment to my mission to rescue her from hard times.  I became her white knight, and in doing so I focused exclusively on solving her problems while allowing my own issues to pile up on the back burner.  The sons of bitches would eventually jump off the stove and catch up to me.

We’ve since gone our separate ways and now there is only a white knight standing alone in a field, sword and shield in hand but no one to rescue.  There are no townspeople calling for me in the distance.  Frankly, I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do.  For the first time in a while I’ve had ample free time to seriously think back on the last eight months.  I can be honest with myself about the mistakes I made, and even more honest in admitting exactly the ways she did me wrong.  Basically, every free pass I gave her when she screwed up was like Neville Chamberlain letting Hitler keep Czechoslovakia.  Then I was actually surprised when I got the blitzkrieg!  It’s a bitch, but hindsight’s always 20/20.

Frankly, there are two things I can carry with me and walk tall like a man.  First, I honestly tried my absolute best to make it work.  Hell, I even tried my best to get Ron Paul elected, but that didn’t work either.  To top it all off, every single other liberty candidate I worked hard for and campaigned for individually got their asses handed to them, thanks to gerrymandering.  Damn!

There are just times when you lose and the outcome is beyond your control.  But damn it, I did my best and I have no regrets!  I worked hard for what I believe in.  Furthermore, I was able to love a human being unconditionally.  Every time she said “I love you back” I knew I was looking into the face of God.  I wouldn’t trade that experience for all the gold in the world.

Some of you reading this may ask, “Why the hell is he sharing this with everybody?”  The answer is simple.  I figure if I can be completely honest with the world, then I can be completely honest with myself and not make the same mistakes, neither in political work, the workplace, nor—especially—in my personal life.

It’s hard to deal with, but all the while I’ve stayed completely away from the bottle.  These are the kinds of disappointments I would have got wasted over just a few months ago.  But booze doesn’t make problems go away; it only makes you forget for a few hours, and then those problems come back tenfold in the morning.  The hell with that; I’m not drinking.

So here I am, sitting at a computer in southern California, with not even a vague idea of what the future holds.  I’m staying away from booze, hitting the books on Austrian economics and libertarian theory, getting back to the Bible, and going back to church.  These aren’t New Year’s resolutions; they’re already part of my new routine.  Better yet, I’ve been going on incredibly long hikes to feel empowered, and I’ve also been getting more creative with my writing and also in the kitchen. 

It’s incredibly satisfying to feel both empowered and creative.  I would recommend this in a heartbeat to other people in the liberty movement.  Too many of us waste lots of time behind a computer screen, either toiling away over a lengthy economic treatise that four people will glance at or endlessly reposting on Facebook some link exposing Monsanto.  Pretty soon my buddy Havoc and I will do a straight twenty-mile hike beginning at my doorstep and ending in Mt. Baldy Village.  How excited I am!

One thing I can proclaim is “The hell with 2012 already!”  Honestly, I’m over this year.  I learned a lot and grew a lot.  Ron Paul will always be my President and a young lady from Indiana knows I’ll always love her with all my heart, but it’s time for everyone to move forward.  Dwelling in the past is dangerous; Jay Gatsby tried it and it got him killed.

There’s a lot of work to be done in 2013.  People in the liberty movement need to learn to walk away from Facebook and do some real activism for real liberty candidates.  We also need to soften our rhetoric so our ideas can appeal to non-libertarians, especially neoconservatives and disillusioned Democrats.  2014 and 2016 will soon be upon us.  Most importantly, we all need to look inside ourselves, be honest with ourselves, and takes steps to improve ourselves as human beings.

I’ll tell you what though, if Rick Santorum runs for President again, I’m just going to mail giant sad face posters to everyone who endorses him.  Honestly, were it not for Ani DeGroot’s hard work, I would have lost complete faith in Iowa simply for the Santorum caucus victory. Double-you tee eff and never again!

2012 may not have been what we wanted it to be.  Just think of it as a rehearsal for better times.  I’d like to extend a big thank you to all my brothers and sisters in the liberty movement.

Happy New Year.

* * *

Ron Paul supporters photo courtesy of Jayel Aheram, used via CC BY 2.0 license.  "Knights" painting by Viktor Vasnetsov is in the public domain.  Both images wre obtained from Wikimedia Commons.  Rand Paul 2016 artwork courtesy of Iowa News Liter blog with no rights given or implied.