James O'Keefe Gives Fox 2 Detroit and NAACP Chapter Founder a Latin Lesson

Published on Aug 8, 2016

In this video, James O'Keefe was interviewed by Fox 2 Detroit after exposing voter fraud in Michigan multiple times. During the interview, the news pundits attack O'Keefe and Greg Bowens accuses O'Keefe of impersonating officials. Then O'Keefe had to give a Latin lesson because the pundits didn't know what Veritas meant.

NJO: Title, video and blurb from James O'Keefe's YouTube channel veritasvisuals.

Fox 2 Detroit Attacks James O'Keefe for Exposing Voter Fraud in Michigan

Published on Aug 8, 2016

In this video, James O'Keefe is interviewed by Fox 2 Detroit after exposing voter fraud in Michigan multiple times. During the interview, the news pundits attack O'Keefe and accuse him of impersonating officials. When O'Keefe asked the TV personalities if they were accusing him of a crime on TV and to show where he made an impersonation, the pundits said "roll the tape again". However, they never played the video after making an accusation. One of the pundits then brushed off O'Keefe's voter fraud videos saying, "some would argue that the only fraud committed are the lies you told the clerks." Then O'Keefe had to give a Latin lesson because the pundits didn't know what Veritas meant.

Website: http://projectveritas.com/
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NJO: Title, video and blurb from James O'Keefe's YouTube channel veritasvisuals.

"Grow some T-Rex scrote": Ted Nugent and James O'Keefe on Periscope

Published on Jan 28, 2016

The Motor City Madman and James O'Keefe hijack Shemane Nugent's Periscope to talk about the Constitution, the heroes who serve our country in the military, political corruption and the recent Project Veritas Common Core videos.

WARNING: If you feel "micro-aggressed" or "triggered" when hearing conversation about certain masculine body parts, go find yourself some "safe space" instead of watching this video.

Website: http://projectveritas.com/
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NJO: Title, video and blurb from James O'Keefe's YouTube channel VeritasVisuals.

Hidden Cam: Common Core Insider Reveals Info About LA Bid Rigging Scandal

Published on Jan 27, 2016

In the fourth video of this series on Common Core, undercover videographers expose some additional information about Common Core not known to the general public.

“I’m going to share this, but it never came from me, the reality was that the evaluations that were done on all the supposed competitors, Pearson was not the real winner, yet Pearson got the contract,” said the Common Core insider to undercover Project Veritas journalists.

NJO: Title, video and blurb from James O'Keefe's YouTube channel VeritasVisuals.

COMMON CORE EXEC REVEALS ANTI-AMERICAN AGENDA: Guns, STDs, Islam, Climate Change, Dead White Guys

Published on Jan 21, 2016

In the third video of this series on Common Core, undercover videographers expose another textbook executive. In the video, the sales executive shows some of the political ideology behind Common Core with statements like there:

"The dead white guys did not create this country"

“Damn the Second Amendment"

“They don’t agree with Islam, so they don’t want their kids to know about it. They don’t agree with birth control so they don’t want their kids to talk about it. They don’t agree with math because they don’t understand it. It’s not the same math they did in high school. So they don’t want their kids to know about it.”


Website: http://projectveritas.com/
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NJO: Title, video and blurb from James O'Keefe's YouTube channel VeritasVisuals.

Undercover Common II: Another Top Publishing Exec: "It's never about the kids"

Published on Jan 14, 2016

Houghton-Mifflin Harcourt Strategic Account Executive says Common Core is never about the kids.

“It’s never about the kids.” -- Amelia Petties, Strategic Account Executive, Houghton-Mifflin Harcourt

Petties: “And slapping a new name on it, which in my case I hope they do…I can sell a sh** ton of training around whatever you’re calling it.”

Petties: “There’s always money in it”… “I don’t think Common Core is going to go anywhere.”

Website: http://projectveritas.com/
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NJO: Title, video and blurb from James O'Keefe's YouTube channel VeritasVisuals.

Undercover Common Core Vid: Exec Says "I hate kids...it's all about the money"

Published on Jan 12, 2016

In this shocking explosive video of this new series about Common Core, a senior Houghton-Mifflin Harcourt sales executive says she hates kids and the textbook manufacturers prefer profits to the needs of school children across America.

"Oh my God, it’s all a money game. It’s all a money game," confirms one Brooklyn teacher.


Website: http://projectveritas.com/
Donate: http://projectveritas.com/donate
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ProjectVeritas
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Project_Veritas

NJO: Title, video and blurb from James O'Keefe's YouTube channel VeritasVisuals.

Quote Boat: White Lobsters

Click to enlarge.

Quote Boat: Black Lives Matter And All, But Sheesh, Do We Hafta Read About 'Em? Come On Now, Teachers, Admit It, That's Just Not Right, Says 21-Year-Old James O'Keefe, Knowing Better Like Always (Gonna Be A Pattern Here)

Shaughn Adeleye: RoadRants3

Uploaded on Feb 3, 2010

Ranting on the road about political thoughts.

NJO: Title, video and blurb from 2010-2011 James O'Keefe minion Shaughn Adeleye's YouTube channel.

From the files of Ben Wetmore: "Restructuring Leftist's Fancy Language"

NJO: "Benjamin Wetmore: A mentor of mine; a genius", said James O'Keefe in an interview in September 2009. So let's take a look at some of the wisdom of this certifiably mentorial influence on James' life.

On this day, "Restructuring Leftist's Fancy Language [sic]":


If you read enough leftist literature, especially college-oriented texts, you find a variety of words that only make sense in context, ones that you've never heard in normal conversation. Such gems as "heterosexist" and "pseudovalues" or "moral pathologies" or "neocolonization" are bandied about as though, well, as though they're real words.
 
And God bless these leftists, they are incapable of producing one dollar worth of real value, or "value" to our postmodern readers, to the economy but are remarkably creative and productive when it comes to making up words, or, bear with me, "pro-neovernacular construction."

And while these leftists are busy making up new words, we're faced with the challenge of figuring out what the hell they mean, and also dealing with the inherent connotations that these new words bring. We're always playing defense! We ought to go out of our way to define their crazy thoughts with the same flair that they obviously enjoy ridiculing our principles.

This exercise is also pertinent to the longer discussion about the tactics of pivot-point and also the Leesburg grid.

So, in the pro-neovernacular constructionist spirit, we've listed out some fancy new words to describe leftists on the left and would love to hear any input or suggestions that you might have to add to, amend or correct any of the words and phrases. As you can see, we could always use the simple answers to describe them, but the fancy language just makes it sound so much better.

-	their fancy language	-	normal language	-	our fancy language	-
	Marxist		Thief		neocollectivist rationalizer
	Queer		Pervert		anal-centric hypersexualist
	Pro-"Choice"		Pro-Abortion		infant termination apologists
	Clinic Doctor		Abortionist		infant terminator
	Feminist		Man-hater		Woeman - antiphallic gender discriminator
	Postmodernist		Idiotic		pro-definitionless
	Relativist		Coward		subjectivist
	Deconstructionist		Whiner		academically intolerant
	Religious Hater		Atheist		deistiphobic
	Communist		Red Bastard		Genocidal communitarian
	Lesbians		Dykes		vaginal hypersexualist
	Pornographers		Degenerates		sexual addict and social sexual infector
	Neoconservative		Liberal		Democratic Imperialist
	Radical Blacks		Uppity		Afrikan reinventionist
	Racial Instigators		Outside Agitators		Corporate racialists
	Modernists		Modernists		Ageists - elderly intolerant

Contracts ironic bowtie

[...]

And the reformers have won largely, especially at more orthodox law schools, where races are probably represented exactly as they would be throughtout the general population, professors old fashioned socratic methods are watered down by Deans Circles and Queer Groups and reform-facilitators who can't handle a man in a suit telling them their wrong.

[...]

NJO: Originally posted on the blog Feathers of Steel at liberabit.blogspot.com. The only surviving pieces of this post that I could find were 1) the title, surely incomplete - possibly some kind of listing-off of things that Real!James was finding irksome about law school, unless a "contracts ironic bowtie" is an actual self-contained thing I just haven't heard of and 2) the above sentence, creatively spelled and grammared as it is. As for the date, yes, it's from August 2007, but the day is conjecture. Credit for saving this goes to "goodidealist" in this post on The Daily Kos.

Update: Duh. The title simply denotes in present tense the action of contracting a bowtie that is being worn ironically. Of course. Just seeing that now.

Update: Hey, how about the racism in this snippet though? That is some primo racism going on there, just real straightforward, open-and-shut, shave-my-head-and-call-me-Heinz racism. You know how racists with aspirations to respectability usually try to hide it somewhat, with code words and shit? And right here he's just letting it all hang out. Of course, we can't know the full context of that sentence. But I bet it would just turn out to be a bigger load of whiny-faced racism-tinged shit.

On Writing Good Song Lyrics



This was an email I wrote to a friend of mine who produces music


We all want to be like the Beatles and Stevie Wonder, myself included, by using abstraction in song and poetry lyrics, where every human on earth can relate to our stoic themes like "Let it be..." "Until the ocean covers every mountain high---I'll love you always." but that's a slippery slope to climb, and I'm beginning to understand I can not pull it off - in the same way NOBODY but Ronald Reagan can stand up in front of the entire world and shout "Mr. Gorbachev Tear down this wall." If any other President had said those brave words at the height of the cold war to the entire Soviet Union, he would have been laughed off the stage. Artists, politicians and others who emulate those sages which preceed them; can't even come close. Examples include Jesse Jackson, Al Sharpton and other black reverends whose rhetoric and passion, though practically identical, doesn't compare to the firey brimstone of Martin Luther Kings Jr's - who will make you cry if you just listen to him speak.

Artists like Stevie Wonder are revered because they were pioneers in their genre, and we may by some miracle receive that standing, but it will be by using different methods, different music, and different lyrics. I think we have so far. You say the melody I hummed was too close to Lenny Kravtiz "It ain't over 'til it's over", but this was a fact I disclosed and I realized after I was done conjuring it up. On the contrary, there are common progressions in music; many famous rock and roul / blue artists virtually copied the Bach Conciertos in the 1950s. The first ten notes of "Another old Lang Syn" are identical to the 1812 Overture. However, a vague similarity was not my intention. Neither is yours. Inspiration is a beautiful thing that can create entirely different things altogether.

Most of these lyrics in the video I sent you, like all initial melodic experiments, were improvd, but even if I sat down to think of them, I realize that my lyrical abilities need dramatic impovement. This is frustrating because I know in my writing my skill is in description and anology. But when you're describing a feeling of love, which is usually, in harmony, restricted by ryhme, the lyrics become redudant and sappy - and takes away from the power. I got to thinking about this more...

I think lyrics can be fixed with a little practice and discipline. First, I think songs; all our songs should tell a story. "Juliet" was half way there, but it fell into the same trap - my fault - since I took it away from where I originally thought it would go - it was originally a confrontation and it turned into a longing, bad move on my part. The story needs to be literal. And we are the best writers when we describe our exact surroundings because we instinctually are paranoid on describing them the way they appear to us in the best way possible - we speak in similies and use spatial and time references - which is great. But unless your shakespeare, poetry isn't intuitive nor immediate. We want to put words together and do what first comes to us, because we think that will sound the best - be the easiest and most natural. We value abstraction, because well, something vague can a) be applied to everyone and then they'll relate to it to themselves (Like that Dan Fogulberg song "Another Old Lang Syne" which touched everyone's heart because they also dream of reuinting with their high school sweetheart) and b) because "If it aint' broke don't fix it." But I'm beginning to understand that words do matter and can always be editing and fixed in music (Fogulberg's song, btw, was literally a story about a specific encounter at a grocery store) and the best composition is one that is edited and re-thought and restructured, and I think we can engineer great meaning into those resonant slots, and make them rhyme with time and patience the same way a manuscript is produced.

At this point, If I were to ryhme about that group of 3rd graders playing soccer over there it would sound more powerful that my song about love - because the words wouldn't be so abstract.

NJO: Originally posted on the blog Feathers of Steel at liberabit.blogspot.com.

Con ███████

I visited ███████ in Siena last Sunday, the girl I was dating for 3 - 4ish years, and who I am still in love with. We started going out on Valentines Day, 2002. I rented a smartcar from Lugano and drove 6 hours south from the alps all the way into the heart of Tuscany. Through winding roads, into tunnels, in the pitch black dark, with crazy Italian drivers whizzing by my at 120 kmh. My smartcar was so small that when I passed or was passed the thing LITERALLY almost blew over. It was scary as hell. I trembled at the wheel, tightended my arms and bit my lip for 400 miles. My vision was not so much blurred as my emotions. It was surreal driving through a foreign country with signs and customs I wasn't aquaitned with, with a manic obession running through my mind to find the girl I love. Love can make you to desperate and crazy things; lift cars and swim across oceans. I believe there are angels watching over me, as I didn't make one wrong turn. Statistical probablity would almost gurantee I would have, since I guessed at about a dozen major intersections. Navigate your way half way through a country in the middle of the night without any currency or knowledge of its language. It took me an hour to figure out how to pump gas. I ran to the nearest ATM, asking italians at McDonalds "Parla Inglese?!" (that's the formal conjugation of "speak."). The sight of a lost and incredibly (rare) American half way inbetween piza and Siena wearing a blue "Italia" tourist shirt in the middle of Tuscany/Nowhere at a McDonalds was enough irony to make Jonathan Swift turn in his grave. I actually ordered a cheesburger from MacDonalds (a regular cheesburger for a 'whopping' 3 us dollars) in American English as I was asking for Directions, and the whole scene made the cashier swell up with pride. (it's kinda like us working at taco bell and geting to practice our spanish by understanding the mexican when he states "Quiero la salsa con mi Taco."

The rub is ███████, although willing to talk and see me, is "not in love" with me anymore. She "Does not find me physically attractive" and "feels uncomfortable" when I call her often or tell her I love her. She "is in love" with another guy who goes to the University of Mass, and who is originally from Ohio, named Jason S████████. When ███████ first got to Umass, the boy had his eye on her, and persisted and persited and persisted ad infinitum, Iming her and emailing her, and inviting her to parties. This was September of 2004, about a year and a half ago. Christmas came, ███████ started feeling different, less strong towards me, I was taking her for granted no doubt, and I assume ███████ was begining to ask some major questions about everything. She wanted to "take a break" in March. I was so busy with my work and the Centurion I really didn't care that much back then. The more distant she became the more attractive to me she became - (And I though she would always be mine). I had once dreamed that she would tease other guys. It turned me on. Then Two weeks later when I called her she admitted she had "slept over" Jason's. From that moment in late March, the jealousy and anguish and pain I have felt in my heart has persisted, weathering me in ways I am so sick of and tired of and teaching me the value of treating a girl right and never letting her go.

But this past summer in DC was fun. Although, we "broke up", I suppose, in May (neither of us had ever done it before so we didn't know what it entailed) we did everything we used to do over the summer, because we were together always. She even visited me down there and we had wine at an Italian restaurant; one of my favorite memories of our relationship. Now I would hope what I am about to say isn't as truley as significant as she made it out to be. She left for France this summer for a month and that is truely when the fulcrom tipped; half-way through france I sent her a poscard, somewhat playfully telling her about the girls I am meeting in DC. She sent me an email I responded to late and told my mother I was ignoring her. She then came to some epiphany in France and when she got back called me immediately. From that moment on things changed indefinitely. From that phone call. I responded "Hi" and acted disinterested, because it was just a moment and I wasn't thinking. She reacted to that and acted disinterested. I told her, because of my silly and stupid attraction to a cute girl at work, that it was OK, I'm kinda interested in someone else. From her end was an all-out bombshell: "I'm Dating someone and am visiting him in Ohio next week."

We had planned to spend a week in DC together, that turned into two days, which turned into a night, well, two hours. And the sexual tension of us being together as "Friends" eventually made her kiss me, yes, while she was "dating" Jason, who... she hadn't even seen yet. I later understood that when I acted disinterested and distant it would turn ███████ on, even while she was with Jason. I'm not so sure if I can pretend that hard or if it's even possible anymore.

When ███████ left for Umass, she kissed me on the lips, told me she loved me, and said she'd see me when we're married 5 years from now. How words so lovely could be so cruel. For I would not see ███████ for another 5 months. I could write a book about the pain and agony during those 5 months, it strangled me and prevented me from doing well academically, it brought me into a miniature depression.

Before I continue the story, let me explain that ███████ needs to be in a commited relationship at all times, with someone. She cannot be alone or looking around. This is part of her mentality and physchology. She used to give a lot, but being a cute girl (and a hot girl when she gets ready to go out to party) in College now, everybody is all over her, and she has started taking; compliments, gifts, "I <3 you!"s guys and girls and 500 friends all over her, wanting her for various reasons. She never had that before. All she had was me, an old fashioned guy with an old fashioned way of doing business and romance. A 21 year old soccer player swooper her off her feet, and seeing him and hooking up with him almost every day, she gave into the temptation, and slept with him, in ya know, that way.

From what I gathered, Jason was not going out with ███████. ███████ wanted to "be in a relationship" with him, but he kept saying no. ███████ didn't like this, because it wasn't the safety and security she needed so desperately. And in early November, after ███████ got done ahving sex with him, another girl called her up and told her that she was hooking up with Jason, as well were a few other girls. BOMBSHELL

███████ cried for days, weeks, ripped up his gifts, cursed him off and joined and online "Jason-HATING" club on facebook (no joke!) Jason wouldn't attempt to contact ███████ but she, so jealous, wouldn't give in. I, looking at her facebook everyday, would monitor her hatred of Jason and her friends reassuring her. 

On that I danced around my room listening to "innocent man" by billy joel, feeling a sense of redemption since I had went out on a "date" (maybe I'm a little hopeful calling tea a date, but I said I'm old-fashioned) with a girl who I thought was cute - meanwhile ███████ was getting "fucked over" by the jock cock she dumped me over. It wouldn't be long before ███████ contacted me with an apology. She did contact me very soon, but what she said I'll never forget

November 11th: "James, it's been a while since we've talked, I just want to tell you Goodbye since I'm goign to Italy" Are you Kidding me ███████?! Goodbye?! How could you??????? You're not leaving for another two months, and I'm going to Europe also!!! And that's after Christmas vacation... and you just got cheated on!!! I never cheated on you, ever! How could you say this.

I was so angry by what she said that I responded with the following statement:

So cruel... so so cruel. You IM me tonight to make you feel better about yourself, "I'm not a cold-hearted bitch?" you ask. You remove youself from my facebook wall, you tell me you won't talk to me because "you're going to Europe." You don't even talk to me now!! Do you realize how much you've hurt me? You can't say anything nice! You expect me to make you feel better about yourself and reasure you?! I just saw on on your profile you were fucked over by Jason S████████. He played you like a piano. YOu left me for a fucking scumbag who cheats on you and fucks other girls, and your poor little heart is broken. Your broke the heart of a caring, charismatic, sensitive loyal boyfriend for a fucking scumbag. Now your dirtied up. How does it feel ███████? I think I'm worth more than that, in fact I know I am, and I'm know other girls know I am as well. So no, I don't want to be friends with you, until you look into my eyes and give me the most sincere apology of your life. Until then, leave me alone.

Well the ███████ who can't be alone was alone at that point, I'm guessing more alone that she'd ever been. ███████ waited around for my phone call that week. And now I know she missed me that week. And I knew there was a good chance she would have taken me back that day if I had just drove up there to see her or told her I missed her. But a man's pride can not allow him take a girl back after she dumped him for another girl. God did I think about her all the time. Every single day I thought that ignoring her would get her back.

███████ could not stand to be alone, and there as persistent Jason sitting outside her door for days, waiting for her to open up. So alone and so confused, ███████ poured out to Jason who just listened and listened - just after I took the LSATS on Dec 3rd ███████ was "in a realtionship with Jason" on facebook, (that evil program).

I called her on christams, unable to take it anymore. She didn't call me back. I wrote her a song. She wrote me one sentence in the email, saying "it was nice." I wrote her a final email pouring out my heart. She said we shoudl meet.

We met the day before she left, and there was a lot of sexual tension. All the anger I felt for so long subsided because I truly still felt for her. I still wanted her, I did'nt care abouit that guy. We flirted alot. I acted disinterested like they tell you do. It drove her nuts. "Why aren't you going after me James? I'm a little surprised"

███████ in her car, told me to hug her, I went in and she kissed me. It felt like heaven but violated every cardinal rule. Sometimes I think it would have helped not to, but ███████ is the type of girl who needs to know the truth and not play games. What happend after felt good for the both of us, and she said, "We still have it." She vowed to see me in Europe. She drove away in her car, just like she had done to me back in August.

I wasn't going to let history repeat itself.

Then she left, I called her my first week here, and her mood changed. What happend was just a moment and she was is in love with Jason. I acted desperate and whiny and she became far more removed. We started emailing. I called her almost every day keeping in touch telling her my feelings, she would treat me like a friend, I guess, no emotion. Finally I just broke down and with trembling desperation told her I will leave her alone but I will always love her.

She called me back an hour later!, but alas, it was only about some message a girl sent her. Why do I still feel so strongly about ███████, when she continues to piss me off, react like a child to such powerful emotion. There is no reason to love, and that is why I drove down to see her

* * * * *

We had a good time in Siena, stayed up all night talking, walked around, took photos together. It was like what we always did. Like nothing had changed. There was no intimacy in our relationship in public anyways. And for those hours, nothing did. But now, I'm still hurt, and I still think about her and Jason. She told me alot about him and her that day, and it hurt alot. 

I'm surprised she wants to go to Amsterdam with me next weekend, and couldn't be anymore excited. Everynight I go to bed I pray that I will meet someone fast and soon but still believe we will end up together in the end.

███████ wants to get married in only a few years, right out of college. She told me she will show the true woman she is to that one special guy, a woman she is gradually now becoming. ███████ is not the sex object she makes her self out to be in party pictures on facebook. She is an innocent flower, who can now truly share truths with herself. She can only share that special part of her with one other person. She was too young to give her soul to anyone while we were together. Now she is coming of age, and when she is 25, she will be the most beautiful thing on this earth.

But She is in love with someone else. And there's no getting passed that. That's the way it is. If I knew the answers in my heart; what to do, how to feel, that would be one thing, but's its forcing yourself to do the right thing as well - its not right to rent a car and drive 7 hours in the middle of the night. It's also not right for us not to date other people. I still have hopes and I still have dreams. 

I just wish ███████ loved me.

NJO: Originally posted on the blog Feathers of Steel at liberabit.blogspot.com.

Greetings from Switzerland!!!

When I stepped outside to get onto the plane to Lugano in Zurich it smelled like Evergreen Trees. We flew over the alps one hour south, and I saw the famous mountain of Matterhorn, the small plane swerved around a few small mountains, landed and slammed on the breaks. Outside the runway in Lugano Sorrengo, the weather was cold and dry, but very sunny - 45 degrees. Mountains dotted with villas surround you like Walls.
Lugano is the principal city in the southernmost "canton" or state, in the country of Switzerland. The border is literally 5 km away.The Country of Italy surrounds us on both sides. Swiss punctuality (punctuality is a virtue here as the trains are no more than 5 seconds late), efficiency (the Swiss like production but conservation – they charge 25 cents for each of those brown bags at the grocery store), and cleanliness (there is no litter anywhere anytime except for what appear to be bizarre forms of graffiti), are all "compromised" (as the few Germans in the north say) by Italian language, architecture and religion (Catholicism).
It is located in the Canton of Ticino, the only Italian Canton. There are dozens of cantons in Switzerland, each of them with their own governments and customs and laws. Only 8% of the country speaks Italian, but it is the official language here. Almost all the Catholics in the country are here; and it represents a substantial recruitment area for the Swiss Guard in Rome.
The people of Lugano, Switzerland are somewhat different from the typical horn-blowing, goat-herding Swiss-German Stereotypes. But they are still fairly homogenous; they are tall, thin, tan and have brown hair. They are clean and fashionable, most of them wear black. The Young people in the clubs wear soccer apparel, and sequen jeans. There are few students and very few tourists in Lugano and, although accessible, the city seems culturally remote from other multicultural cities like Zurich and Geneva. The college and the city have a "love-hate" relationship, although Franklin college is camouflaged and has only 300 students. Unlike those of other cities, no minorities or immigrants are in Lugano with the exception of maybe a few arabs on visas; tall swiss men do everything from waxing your floor to construction work (the sound of hammers and nails echo through the valley here) to serving you gas to checking your luggage. The Swiss government is very strict. It is against the law to NOT have health insurance; which is ungodly expensive; and you must even ensure your bicycle. The lack of tourists and young people make the place more traditional – The English language is rare and a last resort – the trilingual proprietors at such places as a cell phone stores only resort to speaking English before they verify you don't speak the other three Swiss languages. They frantically inquire "Parlate italiano?........... français..deutsch?!?" Then they laugh, hesitate, look down as if they are ashamed and proceed to speak to me in fragmented English with a strange lisp. Our transaction is successful but akward. Other times people will tell you they don't speak English, while striking a conversation to you in English. Other students attempt a lame "Gratzi" to the Italians after they buy something. I just say "Thank you and Goodbye," and the occasional woman at the cash register smiles at the sight of me, a rare English pale blond.
Little Smartcars, minis, and yes, triumph spitfires, dot the tiny roads here. There are many many Audis, Volkswagens and Fiats. The tiny cars buzz along with electric, turbocharged little engines to compensate for their 1 litre engines and 6 dollar per gallon gasoline costs.
I live downtown 15 minutes away from campus near the lake in what I can only describe as a neo art-deco style condominium called "Florida." The building is made of marble and glass. The room is beautiful with a patio and view of the mountains in the upper window, but I haven't spent much time in that room, and hope not to do so in the future. Due to severe jet lag, I forced myself to stay up 36 hours so I could go to bed at a normal hour. I woke up at 6 am and saw the sun rise to a fog - normal over the lake in warm mornings. The walk to class is 15 minutes up a steep hill to campus, up a residential road along side villas and cottages with shrubbery of that what looks like a rainforest - architecture reminiscent to me of Palo Alto, CA minus 30 degrees.
The temperature is 15 degrees warmer on the lake. Mediterranean air currents end the Lugano winter in late February, and allow for palm trees to grow on the campus ground, now covered in snow. Classes start on Monday.
The swiss love croissants and yogurt for Breakfast. Their spoons are WAY too big for your mouth and their teacup handles woudn't be close to fitting your pinky. You push all doors to get into buildings (even though there is the same damn handle the Americans have). This has led to dozens of frustrating incidents already of new students screaming "I'm locked out!" You strangely, pull doors out as you leave buildings. This has led to cramped wrists. Crosswalks are sacred here, there is much traffic, Alfa Romeo taxis go 80 mph approaching hairpin curves; and they will not swerve if you set foot in the road, let alone jaywalk. I've been told car owners have received damages done to their paint jobs from injured pedestrians. But the Audis will stop on a dime for you if you walk the mile down the tiny 15 foot wide road to that rare crosswalk – they'll even give you a smile as you do so. Similar are the Swiss flight attendants screaming "GET DOWN" like Arnold schwarnegger in the airplane if a passanger barely gets up to scratch their leg while the fasten seatbelt sign is on. He acquiesces, and everyone smiles as usual.
Such behavior represents another famous and universal custom here; Order.

Today we went bowling on the outskirts of Lugano. 13 year old girls were everywhere, dressed like they were 21. For some of them, the only way I knew there age was the guys they were with, who looked like they were 12.
Bowling alleys have bars and gas stations have bars. Everywhere serves alcohol and cigarettes. The pins were easier to knock down that American pins, and the balls had only three hand sizes per weight of ball. I liked that. The air inside is thick with smoke, and everyone young looks like metrosexual. This is my first encounter with many young Europeans. Although most of them were teenagers, I must say that these girls, especially around my age, are very attractive, mainly because of how well the women dress. But after 17, they disappear. The young guys look like greasers. Although the elderly are physically fit, women around 40 or 50 lose the sexy sense of fashion and are not as attractive to me; many of the grandmothers wear fur coats.
One of the Orientation leaders tells me that the relationship between the people at this college and the University of Lugano, which is exclusively local, is not good, because of the language barrier. That surprises me, since most of the students at this American School speak Italian fairly well. They have been living in an Italian City for four years. It’s not about language barriers. People don’t fall in love because of their vocabulary. It is about what is unspoken. It is about attitude. And the American students can’t drop theirs.
While I enjoy being here, I know this is not my home. But I am still fascinated with the Europe and European Women, all who are inaccessible to me by language at least, the language barrier only making me focus more on their look, their manners, and their alienation to me. I am so far absolutely disgusted with the American women at Franklin College, who I do understand, and who I can’t get away from – mostly because internet usage is restricted to the lobbies of the building. This college is the exact opposite of Rutgers – for obvious reasons. If you’ve spoken to me you know my complaints about at Rutgers. But now I’m seeing the opposite and the grass isn’t greener, in campus life respects. I would not want to go here for the campus life value, so far. About 300 people go to this school. There are 20 people that were accepted to the study abroad program. The 5 guys in that program are free-spirited, accomplished, intelligent, reserved and adventurous. Today the rest of the students in my building returned.
The other full-time people at this college so far, I find repulsive, inside and out. First, American girls here are not what I think of as attractive. The vast majority of them are overweight and have red hair. This student body, is at heart, purely American liberal arts. Being in the most abundant, beautiful, unique location doesn’t change their frame of mind one bit. So far, and my judgments may be premature, they blast their cheesy punk music in their dorm villas, gossip, gossip, gossip, about who and who inside of the college, and browse facebook all day long. This is what I want to get away from; and more reason for me to spend less time on campus itself. I am very quiet around them, these college kids are different from the ones in New Jersey at Rutgers. They are incredibly bored; they have a lot of money and a lot of time, and not too much to worry about – they have few responsibilities, not even to themselves.
The girls here are spoiled in a mature way, giving a similar impression one gets when you look at a 12 year old with a 300 dollars cellular phone. Many of them have traveled all over the world, and however spoiled, are culturally savvy, but unsatisfied with their discoveries. At 19, many of these girls, and I do emphasize girls because their desires and hopes are different from men; are bored with cultural abundance; numb to it – but they keep on shopping and traveling, looking to grow up. I think inside, students here miss the Unites States. Their sustenance is their parents, who are located in the US. We Americans are not swiss, and will not become swiss ever, even if by some insane chance they stay here the required 13 years or marry a Swiss. This is because, unlike America, this you must grow up in this country, read its literature you’re whole life, become part of a tradition that is greater than a fashion statement. Inside; they realize their future is the US. It is a sort of elitism for them here, in their paradise. The politics here are ridiculous, and I have purposely chosen not to speak a word to anyone mine, or tell them about my past. Although I mentioned joining the marines to one of them, and the room became very still and uneasy. Few of them are ex-patriots and communists, I suppose because it is fashionable, but it certainly isn’t honest, since they are not impressed with what is here, and are constantly making comparisons with what is implicitly American. University of Lugano and its “Barriers.” Again, my judgments may be premature, but it is cultural difference and its accompanying shock that gives the study abroad experience value; I almost feel bad for these students; their experience does not really deliver them from abstraction- the whole point. We should immerse ourselves in this different cutlure, and yes, for once, follow the doctrine of moral relativism and succumb to a culture and way of life we respect, but is not ours and never truly will be. This will teach us much about ourselves and all we have taken for granted. I think the fact that Rutgers beat the shit out of me made me a better man, a more patient, wise, understanding man. I fought hard and now I realize just how much progress I have made. I dreamed I could go to a tiny liberal arts college for the last four years, and now I am here in the last semester, realizing how far I’ve come. I’m a senior. I’m graduating; earned my experience at a place with little gossip and no coddling.
I intend to visit the University of Lugano and confront these “Barriers;” language and others, etc. face-to-face. I don’t speak a word of Italian yet, and know nothing about this place, and frankly, it’s better that way. All said and done, it’s very easy to stay away from what I don’t like here; we’ll see what happens.
I’m looking forward to going to Milan tomorrow – and mending my heart somehow– which is still broken after I spoke with ███████ yesterday – I’m still in love with her. I cried last night and earlier this afternoon I’m making this a diary as well as a travel guide as I need a place to just stream my consciousness and externalize, I don’t think my 4 readers or so will mind.

NJO: Originally posted on the blog Feathers of Steel at liberabit.blogspot.com.

Relativism: Oppression's Ally

JAMES O'KEEFE

In examining cultural relativism, we must first ask ourselves whether or not certain cultural differences ought to be tolerated to such a point where we approve of cultural traditions that seem to us unjust or even ethically evil. Among these we find genital mutilation, the Hindu practice of suttee – burning women at the stake – and making women cover their faces like Cousin Itt from the Adams Family. The Multiculturalist connoisseurs and anthropological relativists would say yes, while the conservative intellectuals Allan Bloom, Robert Bork, William Bennet, or “neo-cons,” as they are called, would say no.

So is it morally justified for us to rescue Afghan women from their society? Absolutely.

Those who oppose the “neo-con” efforts of George W. Bush, Paul Wolfowitz and the rest of the gang include author Lila Abu-Lughad in her essay, “Do Muslim Women Need Saving?” Lughad uses the justification that particular cultural traditions that “we” westerners denounce, like the practice of stoning a woman to death because she left her home without the company of a male relative, are ignorant because our disapproval itself contains hidden Western prejudices about the history of exploitation and racism that indirectly led to such savagery in the first place. Lughad, similar to most postmodernists, prefers an historical and political view of any region to a review of its religious or cultural aspects. Lughad describes how U.S. involvement is responsible for stonings and burnings due to our support of the Taliban during the last twenty-five years in our effort to fight the Soviets. If Lughad is arguing that brutality against women under Shari’a Law been caused by the Americans, then aren’t we obligated to fix this? Even if it is our actions and not religious extremism (that’s a big “if ”) that explains stonings and burnings, they certainly don’t justify such brutality. Lughad justifies not brutality but the wearing of cultural dress; this focuses on the wrong issue. It is not the burqas and
other forms of cultural dress we hope to save Muslim women from, it is their right not to be butchered, not to have their lives taken from them when they speak their minds in the home or in public. Living in the free world, Lughad takes those rights for granted. Saving women from oppressive tyrants does not constitute western imperialism; it is a confirmation of the fundamental rights of all human beings. Lughad’s argument ignores extreme forms of brutality in its attention to the burqa, and then focuses on the question of moral relativism. The notion that truth is a reflection of a certain cultural bias – the idea that what is right and what is wrong differs from culture to culture, from era to era, from person to person, et cetera – can be first understood in the context of David Hume’s distinction between facts and values. We know for a fact that the world is round, but whether or not the world is lovely is a different thing entirely, and arguably of little importance. The Comedian George Carlin made our egocentrism poignant to a modern audience with his hauntingly wise rebuttal of environmentalism: The planet Earth is fine, it doesn’t care what color or shape it's in; it is dependent rational animals like human beings, not a chunk of rock in the cosmos, that are emotive enough to make those determinations. “The planet will be here for a long, long, LONG time after we’re gone, and it will heal itself, it will cleanse itself, ‘cause that’s what it does. It’s a self-correcting system. The air and the water will recover, the earth will be renewed, and if it’s true that plastic is not degradable, well, the planet will simply incorporate plastic into a new paradigm: the earth plus plastic.”

But some emotions and values can and should be universal. There should be standards of judgment among people, ideas and events to prevent harmful perversion. Otherwise personal liberation will become on one hand the Sartre-inspired Marxist doctrine of everybody determining their own truths, and on the other the extreme libertarianism of Ayn Rand, where public virtue is ignored. Both bring about an inability to make universal judgments on anything, and we are forced to accept the extremist behavior of others. And since we are indifferent to extreme forms of tolerance, we become... bored. Worse, without a moral standard upon which to rely, we need to be given one from the cultural elites that begin to develop an excessive amount of dominance over our values. These elites may be professors at a University where the young-uns lack a common moral foundation, or worse, elites that serve selfish purposes, like the pigs George Orwell told us about on that farm of his, where society as a whole lacks a moral foundation.

Individualism has to be restrained in order to avoid undermining the traditional values of the community. To preserve these values, some universal truths are required to govern the community. This philosophy has been attributed to Pope Benedict XVI, whose philosophy echos Allan Bloom’s sentiments:

Truth is not determined from what is popular in a democracy, truth is discovered by leaving your cave and discovering what is eternal. Without God, you run the risk of tyrants making that determination. Without a compromise where individuals slightly subordinate themselves to their communities, communities will be governed by tyrants that replace God. The people should govern themselves and be given the right to do so from a divine authority.

When you deny objective values, you create what may be called "men without chests," as C.S. Lewis put it in his short book The Abolition of Man. Curious how we expect "virtue and enterprise" of these men when the organ that provides such services has already been removed.

James O'Keefe is a Rutgers College Senior majoring in philosophy.

NJO: Originally printed in the December 2005 issue of The Centurion.

I Have a Dream

Much has changed since the time of Edmund Burke. While prudence, honor, restraint, reverence, self-discipline, liberty and conviction will always be conservative, modern “conservative” declarations seem to directly contradict these classical virtues. There is no better time than now to explore how these themes have changed and how these virtues clash. This is a time when Peter Lawler believes the Republicans will become two parties split between anti-libertarians and libertarians. Former Soviet political prisoner Natan Sharansky’s The Case for Democracy is the neo-conservative version of the Declaration of Independence; calling for the promotion of democracy for oppressed people’s throughout the world. Fiscally, our Republican allies are anything but conservative. As the Wall Street tycoon once said, “our trade deficit and its fiscal deficit are at nightmare proportions.”

But our universities are also at a crossroads, becoming what David French calls "islands of repression in a sea of liberty." Professors have seemed to have figured out answers to all of life’s great questions. The Academy is, without a doubt, the left’s last vast impenetrable fortress. It is an ideological monopoly on truth, which, as Victor Davis Hansen has said, “has adopted a therapeutic curriculum in pursuit of political objectives.” The pseudo-religious rhetoric of “diversity” has replaced the great rhetorical social questions of Plato and Aristotle; the relationship between God and man, virtue and vice, heroism and cowardice, and beauty and wisdom. These questions have been replaced with an obsession, not of veritas, but with skin color.

Rutgers Professors and staff gave 104 times more money to John Kerry than George W. Bush in the 2004 election cycyle. One Hundred and Four to One. This ratio is comparable to the political diversity present under the rule of Genghis Khan.

In our beloved Academy; a supposed citadel of intellectual brilliance, its commanding officers have become intellectual sloths; unchallenged by any principled conservative opposition and unbridled to invite speakers to campus to compare Bush to the Ku Klux Klan, or rant about how the war to liberate the middle east is morally bad in a class completely unrelated to international relations or its relating philosophies.

From a journalistic standpoint, THE CENTURION is an avowedly conservative magazine. We implore our detractors who demand political balance to weigh us on the scale against other student publications including The Medium, the Green Print, The Review and The Caellian. Let’s not forget The Daily Targum, a newspaper from which I was once fired. Worry not my Leftists; the academic fulcrum still tips in favor of you; if not in print (we’ll take this potential newfound conservative leaning as a testament to our success), then decidedly so in the classroom. THE CENTURION arrived on the scene last November to a blazing fire, extinguishing it with guerilla tactics; awards on doors, sensitivity complaints, racist cereals and needed muckraking against local political cronyism. This sardonic approach seems to have had more efficacy and influence on our student body which cares as much about truth as Muslims care about Jesus.

On our campus common sense is blurred by obfuscation; the p.c. patrol, the diversity police, the self-esteem deans, the speech codes, and the professors violating core tenets of academic freedom, etc.

I founded THE CENTURION because I have a dream...

I have a dream where diversity refers to more than just the melanin in one’s skin; where conservatives are not to be called “fascists” for advocating pluralities of methodologies, perspectives and common sense views.

I have a dream that Lucky Charms is thought of as a breakfast cereal rather than a symbol of Leprechaun oppression.

I have a dream where the banning of “offensive” Grease Trucks sandwich names is of little consequence compared to the rapes of women off campus.

I have a dream someone realizes Rutgers’ financial woes just might be due to dozens of committees and caucuses “devoted to advancing our common purposes” as well as pork programs and counselors and their Deans that believe self-esteem is more important than the process by which you earn it.

I have a dream where we realize guns are no more responsible for Columbine than spoons are responsible for Michael Moore’s obesity.

I have a dream where we lay our presents under Christmas Trees, not holiday shrubs.

I have a dream at least one building or program or committee or scholarship will be named after our Rutgers’ Nobel peace prize winning graduate Milton Friedman, RC ’32. His axiom that political freedom requires economic freedom is a lesson learned only by visiting the graves of the innocent women and children butchered to death by bloodthirsty tyrants; economic atrocities condoned by the applause of Paul Robeson's supporters.

I have a dream where bureaucrats, uneducated in matters relating to life’s great questions, stop putting restrictions on what I can or can’t say, stop enacting policies that arbitrarily prohibit behavior, and stop making value judgments on what I believe.

I have a dream where conservative faculty are free from ideological witch hunts; where political opinions and/or skin color is prohibited from being considered in the hiring of university professors.

I have a dream where the unfair employment practices and accusations against one of our nations most gifted sociobiologists because of his conservative leaning, is prosecuted by the fullest extent of the law.

I have a dream where they will introduce a biology prerequisite for women’s studies classes.

For we the conservatives, ironically, have become the modern day Henry David Thoreaus, albeit in a less revolutionary way. For we, the silent majority, “stand athwart history yelling stop” in a place and at a time when our professors and peers call for radical change.

None of us knew each other a year ago. A man I considered my best friend last year betrayed me over chalk yielding, gown wearing overly ambitious students buying into their own hype. I have met others since then. The unappreciated wisdom of the encyclopedic Wesley James Young; whose civility is only matched by his compassion. The southern legal language of Jeff Erickson. The untapped artistic genius and patience of Justine Mertz. The editorial prowess of my successor, Dan Whitney, who spent late nights (and their accompanying early mornings) at production meetings curbing his enthusiasm, as well as the timely alarm on his wristwatch. The honor in Alan Marrero’s eyes. The steadfast morale of Greg Walker. The Enigmatic Matt Klimek, consummate but withdrawn...

We publish onward, not in the name of our friendship, but for the love of our cause. We have nothing to offer but a slightly naïve, scant knowledge of modern conservatism from our readings in outside publications, books and recently, online journals. The intellectual sloths and anonymous cowards at the pulpit in the ivory tower at Rutgers who read this sentiment will post on their blogs, with relief, our efforts are not nearly enough to dethrone them! For we do not have the required experience, cannot battle student apathy and have not read as much third-rate Marxist hogwash.

But our superior ideas have been time tested, consecrated by the blood of martyrs, victorious in the world of reality strife-torn by a century plagued by revolution. Our naiveté is offset by our courage, bound not for each other but for our cause on a campus that unites in condemning us. I have been hated more in the last year of my life than in the past 20 years of my existence combined, and most likely more hated than you readers. And if that seems somewhat dramatic, you’re damn right it is. So entrenched are we in our cause, Matt, Justine and I forfeited characteristics of coyness and prudence long after we received the anonymous death threats, to prove a point that we weren’t even certain would turn out to be effective.

Transcending all of this; we decided to do something about which we cared. We challenged people to see our version of the truth. It is my contention we have succeeded.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, leaves us about the hottest thing in town.

James O'Keefe

Originally printed in the December 2005 issue of the Centurion.