Sept. 1: Heroism

You can talk about your Superman and Spiderman and Batman. You can talk about your football quarterbacks hoisting the Heisman Trophy. You can talk about who's better - Muhammed Ali or Rocky Marciano. You can salute the firefighters, the soldiers, the people who put themselves in harm's way in order to make a better world.

You can do all these things and I have no problem with you. None.

But when I think about heroism, I think about the working man.*

This is the person who gets up early in the morning and sets out for a job. Sometimes he hates this job. He has dreams and the job takes him away from following his dreams. But he works because he knows it's necessary. Sometimes he has a family to provide for. Sometimes it's just him. But he goes to work and he pays his taxes and those taxes build roads and hospitals and schools and all the infrastructure that give our lives a semblance of stability.

I'm saying nothing new here. When Charles Schulz, the late creator of the Peanuts comic strip, was asked if he had any faith in America, he said that he did because he had faith in the working man. I agree with him.

And yes, there are people who can't work. Let us not disparage them. Some people are too old, too young, too sick or too burdened to procure employment. And let us not disparage the hundreds of unemployed who go out looking for work every day.

But let us show scorn to those who can work but refuse to. The welfare bums, the people on "disability" rather than the people on disability, the people who'd rather spend their time smoking illegal cigarettes, playing Grand Theft Auto, and bitching about the world owes them everything. To them, let us extend a collective middle finger.

These people are the villains.

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* I am going old school here and letting man denote men and women. I'm not going to type "working people" or "working men and women" because it's laboursome and it just doesn't have the same ring of finality. Deal with it, PC people.

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