James Rawles - Liberators

“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” Joshua replied. “Sounds like you and I have been reading the same books! Then, in times of relative peace, we hardly notice the thin veneer of cordial civil conduct, and all it takes is one natural disaster like an ice storm and fights break out over disposable diapers, flashlights, or bottled water.”

Joshua continued. “Here’s a better question: How many cops does society need when we reject God’s law? I liked the term that you mentioned, ‘positive law’; I think that it explains a lot. We are all trading away our legitimate rights for what the government claims that they can provide for us—security. This is false and it preys upon man’s deepest fear of the unknown, and I consider myself a hawk. There is no way to have just law outside of God’s revelation, but modern society is way too enlightened to be bothered with ‘thou shalts and thou shalt nots,’ so we degrade into what we want. The trouble is that there is no referee to decide whose wants are correct and it inevitably deteriorates to a power struggle. So in the Congo, six million people have died over the inability to agree , tens of thousands in the Darfur region, and yet our callous government could care less. All the while our government is more concerned with the Facebook posts of Americans than Iran’s nuclear weapons development.”

Megan nodded. “I agree; the legitimate offensive parts of our government seem to be shifting focus from international to domestic.”

After letting that sink in, Megan continued. “Take your example of who is defined as good and bad according to the law: Heck, you and I are probably guilty of violating a dozen laws every day that we don’t even know about . And what if someday my Christian homeschooling resource web search—all permanently archived on some server—is classified as a ‘hate search’ because it’s Christian and outside of the liberal public fool system? They can reach back in time and start to use the force of law to prosecute me because the ‘moving target,’ as you put it, shifted to make the ‘Christian Right’ into Public Enemy Number One. You think that I’m kidding?”

“No, I don’t,” Joshua said. “I did read that article, and it’s getting harder and harder to tell the good guys from the bad guys. So far this ‘Global War on a Noun’ has only proved how much money we can spend; I don’t believe that it has solved anything other than to manage crises by in-box, spin up the abhorrent DHS, and put tens of thousands more people on the government payroll.”

“Right! And the deterioration of society is marked with waypoints like Nanny Bloomberg wanting to ban salt, oversize sodas, and trans fats, all the while presiding over a city government that’s bankrupt financially and morally.”

Megan shifted in her chair and glanced around the room, just now realizing that her enthrallment with Joshua and the animated conversation had left her completely unaware of her surroundings—who was sitting where, who might be listening. In her line of work, her peripheral vision was like a sixth sense, and she realized at this moment just how much she liked Joshua, to have ignored the world around her with such abandonment.

“Joshua, I’ve thoroughly enjoyed our conversation, but it’s almost time for me to get back to work.”

“Sure,” Joshua said. “I’m sorry that I didn’t get to hear more from you. I kinda felt like I was doing all of the talking there. May I take your tray?”

As Megan stood up she said, “Yes, thank you. I really enjoyed this, can we do it again?”

“Of course! How about next Tuesday?” Joshua wanted to try out his new developing sense of sarcasm as he held the door open for Megan. “If you like chicken, how about we try eating at ‘Cluck U’?”

Joshua and Megan had decided to continue meeting for lunch a few times a week. After a month of this Joshua phoned his “brother” Dustin Hodges in Kentucky to tell him about Megan. After going through their usual list of topics of sports scores and getting ready for bow season this year, Joshua broached the subject of Megan and described her circumstances, personality, and worldview.

“Sounds like she has her head on straight. You obviously have a deep interest in her. What are your thoughts?”

Joshua knew that he could fool a lot of people, but Dustin was not one of them. He paused before saying, “That’s just it. She is not like most of the ladies at work. We’ve been having lunch together now for a while, and I can sense that there is some real hurt under the surface. I’m not sure if I am man enough to help her. I mean, the ex-husband, the two boys, her sister…”

“Little bit of advice, partner: Never think that you can help a woman deal with something like that. If she has not taken up smoking or some other addiction, she likely already has a line on how to fix it herself. Women tend to talk about the thing for the sake of the thing, where you and I as guys are talking about this to try and find a solution . Women are weird that way. Has she told you about her ex?”

“No.”

“I’m guessing that you are gentleman enough to not bring up the subject.” Joshua grunted an affirmation and Dustin let out a long exhalation. “Then I think that you’re going about this the right way. Two points of observation: She is not going to expose the most vulnerable part of her life, that being her sons, unless she’s really sure that you are worthy of that level of trust. Secondly, you had better not burn that bridge if she is a keeper. Is she a keeper?”

“I really believe that she is. I know that it seems too soon to tell, and that there is this rule somewhere that you have to date for longer than we’ve been seeing each other, but to be honest with you, Dustin—”

Dustin interrupted. “You’d better be honest with more than just me, Josh! Are you being honest with yourself?”

“Honestly, I love her. At least the version of her that I have in my head. When I’m brought into the rest of her story, then I might feel different or perhaps stronger—but I really think that she is the one.”

Dustin knew Joshua very well, and he wanted to give him the assurance that he heard every word that he said, and to give him an out if he wanted to end the conversation. So Dustin ended with, “Brother, I’m really glad that we had this talk. Seriously .”

Phil’s drive across the Snoqualmie Pass was nerve-racking. Though the pass was clear of ice and snow, there was heavy traffic, of all descriptions, heading east. Overloaded vehicles were the norm. He noticed that many drivers were hunched up close to their steering wheels, looking tense.

Although it would have been far more direct to take Interstate 5 north to British Columbia, he knew from AM radio reports that the border crossings had at least a three-hour delay. And of course the guns that he was carrying would have put him in handcuffs immediately, given Canada’s draconian gun laws.