We are reminded by W.E.B. Griffin in his new book, The Hostage, that drug money sourced primarily from the insatiable American pop-drug culture continues to find its way to bad ends. Well established leaking of cartel money to South American communist insurgencies is now observed to have morphed -– to include Islamofascist organizations whose objectives are similar but reach out to finance underground cell activity in the U.S.
So there we have it in a nutshell. Consuming drugs by snorting coke, smoking cartel weed, or shooting cartel smack most likely supports the enemy that wants to kill us and end our way of life. Nothing new — the link between drugs and the Taliban in Afghanistan and Pakistan is so old and so worn that we forget it exists. But the links to the southern hemisphere of this continent are worrisome to the extreme. There is the common border. We share time zones. The U.S is a catch basin for the South American overflow. Venezuelan heads of state freely flaunt their links to Iran and Islamofascism in general under the motto of “…the enemy of my enemy…” The enemy is at our gates and we provide them with money to breach our defenses and kill us. If it sounds like sheer madness consider the sheer congruence with the distortion in our current national mores that would allow it — nay, foster it.
We live in a land that wages a war with no call to sacrifice to defeat the known enemy. The war we wage is unlike any other we have fought. There is no call to sacrifice anything, be it money in the form of taxes to pay for it, rubber or scrap metal collections, war-bond sales, gas stamps, or ration coupons. And there is no cessation of our consumption of massive amounts of drugs which defines the pop-American drug culture and that underpins substantial layers of our national economy. We are a nation of highly visible contradictions that would convince any enemy that we can be overcome. Defeated in the medium-term. Killed off, one by one.
So here is a call to those who lead the culture. We know them as Hollywood film stars, directors, producers, film distributors and hangers-on. We know them as the leaders of the hip-hop culture, the rappers, the night club owners, the blingeratis. We know them as NBA 3-point shooters and MLB home-run hitters. We see their faces and we want to be them and have their lifestyle, consume their drugs and share the booty.
The call is for them to join the war effort. To fund and drive a massive campaign to stop using drugs. To step forward and tell the country that to do drugs is to fund the enemy who is killing us and wants to close out our way of life. A massive effort that may well change a culture which supports them and their mystique, but goes far to focus the minds of millions on the war and our mortal enemy who is at the gates and has the means, motive, and opportunity to snuff us all.
Here’s to you “Puffy” Baldwin, Mr. Samuel Cool Jackson, to every rapper that dreams of bling, to Lindsey Lohan, to Tim Robbins, to James Gandolfini, to Shaqille the “Shaq”, LeBron James, to Barry Bonds and Alex Rodriquez — the call is to you to lay it on the line. Your power is immense and to ignore it is to tolerate it. If you do, then this war will at least begin to look like the other ones we have waged, sacrificed for as a nation and won. Sacrificed for and won — how remote that sounds.