The Dangers of Socialism are ignored Because of Promised Perks

“Victims of War” are usually women and children. Here “History repeats itself!” 24 x 18 mixed media on canvas

In America, the Land of Plenty, we’ve grown soft. Many of us have experienced affluence, opportunity, security, a good education and a clear path to success.

According to a recent article by Cal Thomas “51% of young people between the ages of 18-29 do not support capitalism; yet even the poorest American lives better and has more opportunity for advancement than most of the rest of the world.

“Why does socialism receive such strong support among the young?” Thomas writes. “Could it be that socialism A.K.A communism is being peddled in our schools, and that newspapers and demagogues in the higher echelons of government are pushing socialism because it makes them richer and more powerful (votes)? After all, who wouldn’t rather get a check than earn one?

Thomas uses quotes to point out the fallacies of Socialism “both its false promise and its danger:”

“Socialism is a philosophy of failure, the creed of ignorance, and the gospel of envy, its inherent virtue is the equal sharing of misery.” – Winston Churchill

“The problem with socialism is that eventually you run out of other people’s money.” – Margaret Thatcher

“The goal of socialism is communism,” Vladimir Lenin (No matter how many times Bernie and Hillary deny it!).

“Capitalism and its political sister, democracy, offer opportunity, not guaranteed outcome. Socialism is mutually shared poverty.” Cal Thomas

“Prayer Circles” 24 x 18 acrylic on canvas

My previous blog was also politically motivated. We are in a critical juncture in America. We are leaving behind the principles that guided us in the past, and we are treating with disdain those Constitutional precepts that have made our country great for more than two hundred years. We are allowing our emotions and our lusts to determine our choices rather than history’s lessons of the past, truth or common sense.

Young people who embrace the promises and slogans of socialism should travel more to gain a perspective on what this lifestyle means. When I was last in Germany the wall was still up splitting the city of Berlin right down the middle. We were able to compare modern Berlin to its poverty-stricken sister in the East.

We cowered as we showed our passports and boarded the train. Eerie quiet confronted us on the east side as we walked into the first plaza. Red Soviet flags hung from many of the buildings. I was about to take a photo and was told by an uniformed guard that photographs were not allowed.

We used a lavatory in the visitor’s building. Coarse paper was in some cases provided as was a half-used bar of soap. We discovered later that toilet paper in East Berlin was in short supply.

People spoke softly or very little. We stumbled into a small café at lunchtime and discovered it filled with workers on their break. All eyes were upon us as we sat down. Then their private conversations continued. We were able to order something to eat and chose what the locals were having: a bowl of soup and a slice of bread.

We were able to bring a few souvenirs across the border upon our return. I chose some ordinary shops; a hardware store and a small department store. I wanted to see what the residents normally purchased and how they lived. I came home with a small shelf that was nailed with wooden pegs, and two planters that were made without any nails. We also bought our children a Russian set of nesting dolls made in the Ukraine.

It became obvious by the end of the day that the people lived simply and in constant fear. They, and us, were being watched and monitored. If the citizens received any goods or services from “The State” it was not obvious. When people are entrapped and they can’t travel or purchase fine things for themselves, they are nothing more than prisoners and slaves in their own land.

“Prince of Thieves” 20 x 16  canvas — Oil on acrylic under painting

In socialism and communism the only people who eat well and spend luxuriously are the ruling class. Everyone else is a ward of the state. What happens is the ambitious and powerful rise to the top while the regular folks, the workers fall into poverty and stagnation.

Is shared poverty what you want? Will you trade your freedoms for dependency and submission? In the beginning having free healthcare, free education and food sounds fantastic. But all that glitters is not gold. Someone has to pay the piper and it just might be you.

 

It’s That Time of Year, Begorrah, for the Wearin’ of the Green

Fuchsia Fantastic, 16 x 20 acrylic on canvas

I’ve always dreaded St. Patrick’s Day.  Every kid in school was wearing green but me. My mother fashioned a homemade clover pin out of green felt and crepe paper. But since it wasn’t legitimate clothing, I got pinched anyway. “That doesn’t count,” my peers all agreed as they chased me around the playground.

On Wednesday, We have a St. Patty’s Party at our church. I scanned my closet and discovered I still don’t own anything green. What’s with that? I love green, especially grass green. It’s nature’s color, for heaven’s sake! My clothes hangers are full of beiges, browns, whites and blacks, but not a smidgen of green.

My eyes are a mixture of light brown and green. Hazel I write down on required forms. They turn chameleon whenever I wear lavender or peach, and then people say “My you have lovely green eyes.”

I had an olive green carpet in the seventies. In fact, my favorite color back then was olive green. I not only had a suit and a dress in this color. I was designated a “Fall” by the latest home-party color technologist. Of course, my hair was still brown when I took that first test.

Incidentally my favorite foods are green. I love spinach, avocadoes, lettuce, edame, kale, endive, romaine, peas, green beans, broccoli, asparagus, okra, etc. I’m surprised my skin hasn’t turned green on me.

My kids favorite dip was made with spinach, cream cheese and mayonnaise. When finished, it looked like the Emerald City ; bright green and luminous. When friends came over, my kids told them convincingly it was “green grasshopper” dip. After that its popularity plummeted. Soon the authors of this trickery became a bit squeamish themselves, and that was the end of that.

JUST SOLD ON MY ETSY SHOP: Popeye & Olive Oyl
Salt ‘n Pepper Shakers

My mother was a fabulous cook. She rarely used a recipe and had an instinctive sense of how she wanted something to taste. I tried to coax her out of a few concoctions, but she was more comfortable with her own methods of a pinch here, a taste there, a squeeze of this, a drop of that. Her potato salad was to die for.

My kids would eat no one else’s scrambled eggs; only hers. Whenever she asked “what do you want to eat?” without preamble, they always said scrambled eggs. Her curry was the hit of her pinochle club. I relished the smell of it simmering on the stove.

Prayer Circles 24 x 18 acrylic on canvas

Mother cooked the way I paint. I like to try new mixtures for a certain look or sparkle; a dab of this, a swap of that. One of my favorite colors is made by mixing one part alizarin crimson with a little bit of orange as in the painting above. If you add a drop or two of yellow, it creates a tantalizing background especially for white.

Cafe’ Costa Rica 20 x 20 SOLD; prints and gicle’s available

If you mix a dot of cobalt blue with yellow, you can get the exact color of varied shades of green from new bright growth to mature bluish stems.

Green up your world this St. Patrick’s Day and experiment with color!