Rules of Generations
Understanding the “Rules of Generational Succession” is important to know, since we’re all a part of one. It was the Bureau of the Census that decided in 1945 who the Baby Boomer Generation, 1927-1945, basically because of the World War II era. In that era thousands of Americans died in combat in World War II and Korea, 99% of them on foreign shores- and they would be predictably followed by a tidal wave of new births upon their arrival back to America.
(My father was just such a man, dropping out of a Kentucky college in 1942 to enlist after Pearl Harbor, leaving a pregnant wife to await his (prayed-for) return while she lived with family in Ohio, carrying, then bearing a daughter he would not see until early 1946, after a long trans-Atlantic sea voyage back to America in a troop ship. My mother was pregnant when Dad shipped out and my sister born in October, 1942 just as his unit stormed ashore in North Africa. Then the war ended in 1945, and I came into the picture, December, 1945, which my dad used to boast (after he’d had a few) that I was born 9 months to the day of his arrival at my mother’s front door back in Appalachian Kentucky. Hired by the coal company that employed his dad, a coal mine foreman, they settled down to bring two more children into the world…in that same coal camp…in 1948 and 1951. (I can see the house from here, only no houses would be built on that street running up the hill until around 1950.)
My baby brother passed away in Arizona in 2016, of a heart ailment, but without issue. The remaining children are still alive, and each of us bore into their world two children, five boys and a daughter. My sister’s daughter has brought forth four male offspring, her GenZ grandson already married starting a new generation, with a Generation Alpha still in the oven.
With the war for the hearts and minds (and souls) of the GenAlpha branch of America just beginning, it’s incumbent on us, especially old Boomer coots such as myself, to take note of the eggs spawned in those days that have not yet taken a nest to roost in. But because, simply through good fortune, I have been able to watch the younger America replayed around the world, on three continents, and in several different societies, and on their ground (mostly factory floors), and, nearing 80, and my scalp still attached, I’ve been able to piece together events and cultures, and take note of scary, self-destructive things I see rolling off modern political thinkers’ desks (in America) that we have watched self-destruct several other states’ cultures around the world. Some of those fatal flaws have now configuref themselves into America’s water-supply, where it had laid hidden since the 1950s, starting with Elvis.
I will only speak to one aspect here now, as there is an election to take place inside 100 days, and we have not yet established the ground rules of who will be allowed to vote in this elections, and by what rules?
Or whether proponents for either side will have to resort to physical violence to insure that their views receive equal consideration, for you see, much like 1778, both sides are armed.
Yes, we may have elbowed our way back to those kinds of reactions,
It was JD Vance who evoked our first post-modern hillbilly knee-jerk response; the very idea that a hillbilly, even a recent-generation hillbilly (I’m 2-generations removed from Vance’s hillbilly understandings) can’t deal with deep questions surrounding modern politics in international affairs. That is the silliest, most infantile response I’ve heard since the hoity-toity responses of the English to America’s response to their threat of war in 1812, them still dressed in their finest reds and blues, our troops still largely dressed in buckskins…and yes, we stood behind trees and fired our rifles while they marched shoulder-to-shoulder into war, with the same outcome, ending that war with our victory at New Orleans, (as sung by Johnny Horton, which I first heard in 1959). The Battle of New Orleans was fought in 1815, and yes, we won, despite all our cultural shortcomings.
So, you can understand the depth of Democrat-Leftist angst over their letting their Millennial army of several million would-be voters get within a hundred feet of JD Vance, an Appalachian by birth and a Roman Catholic by choice, plus his wife, Usha, an Indian with Asian complexion, and who, by all rights, should be repelled by him, but instead, relented to share three children with him? That pairing fits into no leftist-post modern model of an educated married couple in America.
Americans with over three-generations on America’s sacred ground in their scrap book also have buttons the Left can’t afford to allow their voters to include any religious component in their definition of freedom and love of country near them. Post-modern philosophy forbids it. But those percentages are still basically fixed with my generation, Baby Boomers (1946-64), although it is finally dying off more quickly…but still with a decade or more of influence (note: I’m a month older than Donald L Trump).
This is a relationship that is almost impossible for last three generations of the Left to even contemplate, paying only mock notice to the religions of their past, found in old photo albums, merely as an attempt to stay close. Their politics is their religion, girded by vanity and self-love,
Democrats simply don’t have any words or symbols that can marry notions with the fundamental tenets of our system. The uplifted nose is all they’ve got.
There you have it.
But Democrats cannot allow that notion to be put on full public display. They have to create goblins that are easily digestible within their pack. For instance, Vance had taken up the clarion’s call by referring to childless Democrat women as “Childless sociopath’s”, who, if you didn’t know, I’ve been building a nice photo library since before the passing of the last generation and the rise of the current one, Generation Z.
(These photos are not all that recent, predating Trump’s ride down that escalator with Melania in New York in 2015, almost 10 years ago. Even in the Vietnam years, that period would have added two more children to the family nest. Today, they are firmly aimed on one child only, if their income level is six-figures or more. If they decide to work for a living (a high percentage don’t, or don’t need to), it will be among economic and educational peers. The term “bratling” has entered it’s third decade. They have been defacing monuments for over 20 years now, done millions of dollars of damage to private property, ripped apart thousands of Starbucks, Walmarts, and dared urban police to lay a single wooden stick on their backsides….by the million.
The photo array I’ve shown here, (I have 100’s) are all post-millennial, post-Bill Clinton, although Hillary Clinton has probably thrown lamps in each of the last five decades.
Still, “To be American” is the result of people born here, a process which began in the 1600s, and for 75% of them the process has remained unchanged, so these kids shown here, now parents of at least one generation going forward, have added very little to the cultural ingredients that add a generation’s signature.
So the process would take over a century to overtake the new immigrants who would come to these shores, and continue the process of not just becoming, but re-defining, what it meant “to be American”. I first broached this subject in 2022, “To Be American; American Exceptionalism and Assimilation–How Things Worked” five years after the last Gen Z had been born in America.
That JD and his wife have now birthed three (3) in this new age, all GenAlpha’s, and while Democrats thought that their worldview would be a shoo-in directing political choices, the Vance’s household stands as living proof… much as my Appalachian forebears who came who came to America the 18th Century, would tell you, by bringing over 74 million Baby Boomers in 20 years (1945-1964)
(My writing buddy, Dave Poff, the blind writer, is also among that mob of Christian Appalachian spoilsports, and his works, still in progress, can be found here.)
Thanks to the lies of paid writers at HuffPo and that whole crew of former-respected websites, and speech writers for Democrat candidates, such as Kamala Harris, and poor ol’ Joe Biden, who I know knew back when Judge Clarence Thomas had to suffer lies-to-his-face from a really-mean New England Senator Joe Biden in 1991, who really knew how to dress down a “n—-“.
For the remaining of the election season, Dave and I will be waging war here; him blind, me bed-ridden.
What will define this war, going forward, whether shooting or word-smithing, remains to be seen. But the anti-God left would be wise to heed these warnings, for you see, the people shown above are few, but they believe they are entitled to be in charge. Fortunately, drug abuse and other excesses will take most away early. But read Kamala Harris’ bio…and see how and where and when she fits so well into this biographical depiction of a “type”.
They are enemies of America, as it was designed to be.
