From My Morning Inbox
Friday, July 10th, 2009A Perfect Storm Is Brewing
by Pam Geller
I am a student of history. Professionally, I have written 15 books in six languages, and have studied history all my life. I
think there is something monumentally large afoot, and I do not believe it is just a banking crisis, or a mortgage crisis, or
a credit crisis. Yes, these exist but they are merely single facets on a very large gemstone that is only now coming into a
sharper focus.
Something of historic proportions is happening. I can sense it because I know how it feels, smells, what it looks like, and
how people react to it. Yes, a perfect storm may be brewing, but there is something happening within our country that has
been evolving for about 10-15 years. The pace has dramatically quickened in the past two.
We demanded and then codifi ed into law the requirement that our banks make massive loans to people whom we knew could
never pay back? Why? We learned recently that the Federal Reserve, which has little or no real oversight by anyone, has
“loaned” two trillion dollars (that is $2,000,000,000,000) over the past few months, but will not tell us to whom or why or
disclose the terms. That is our money. Yours and mine. And that is three times the $700B we all argued about so strenuously
just this past September.
Who has this money? Why do they have it? Why are the terms unavailable to us? Who asked for it? Who authorized it? I
thought this was a government of “We the People,” who loaned our powers to our elected leaders. Apparently not.
We have spent two or more decades intentionally de-industrializing our economy. Why?
We have intentionally dumbed down our schools, ignored our history, and no longer teach our founding documents, why we
are exceptional, and why we are worth preserving. Students by and large cannot write, think critically, read, or articulate.
Parents are not revolting, teachers are not picketing, school boards continue to back mediocrity. Why?
We have now established the precedent of protesting every close election (now violently in California over a proposition
that is so controversial that it wants marriage to remain between one man and one woman. Did you ever think such a thing
possible just a decade ago?). We have corrupted our sacred political process by allowing unelected judges to write laws that
radically change our way of life, and then mainstream Marxist groups like ACORN and others to turn our voting system into
a banana republic. To what purpose?
Now our mortgage industry is collapsing, housing prices are in free fall, major industries are failing, our banking system
is on the verge of collapse, Social Security is nearly bankrupt, as is Medicare and our entire government. Our education
system is worse than a joke (I teach college and know precisely what I am talking about.) The list is staggering in its length,
breadth, and depth. It is potentially 1929 x 10. And we are at war with an enemy we cannot name for fear of offending
people of the same religion who cannot wait to slit the throats of your children if they have the opportunity to do so.
And now we have elected a man no one knows anything about, who has never run so much as a Dairy Queen, let alone a
town as big as Wasilla, Alaska. All of his associations and alliances are with real radicals in their chosen fi elds of employment,
and everything we learn about him, drip by drip, is unsettling if not downright scary. (Surely you have heard him
speak about his idea to create and fund a mandatory civilian defense force stronger than our military for use inside our
borders? No? Oh, of course. The media would never play that for you over and over and then demand he answer it. Sarah
Palin’s pregnant daughter and $150,000 wardrobe is more important.)
Mr. Obama’s winning platform can be boiled down to one word: Change…radical change. Why?
I have never been so afraid for my country and for my children as I am now. This man campaigned on bringing people
together, something he has never, ever done in his professional life. In my assessment, Obama will divide us along philosophical
lines, push us apart, and then try to realign the pieces into a new and different power structure. Change is indeed
coming. And when it comes, you will never see the same nation again.
And that is only the beginning.
I thought I would never be able to experience what the ordinary, moral German felt in the mid-1930s. In those times, the
savior was a former smooth-talking rabble-rouser from the streets, about whom the average German knew next to nothing.
What they did know was that he was associated with groups that shouted, shoved, and pushed around people with whom
they disagreed; he edged his way onto the political stage through great oratory and promises. Economic times were tough,
people were losing jobs, and he was a great speaker. And he smiled and waved a lot. And people, even newspapers, were
afraid to speak out for fear that his “brown shirts” would bully them into submission.
And then he was duly elected to offi ce, with a full-throttled economic crisis at hand [the Great Depression]. Slowly but
surely he seized the controls of government power, department by department, person by person, bureaucracy by bureaucracy.
The kids joined a Youth Movement in his name, where they were taught what to think. How did he get the people
on his side? He did it promising jobs to the jobless, money to the moneyless, and goodies for the military-industrial complex.
He did it by indoctrinating the children, advocating gun control, health care for all, better wages, better jobs, and promising
to re-instill pride once again in the country, across Europe, and across the world.
He did it with a compliant media - Did you know that? And he did this all in the name of justice and…change. And the
people surely got what they voted for. (Look it up if you think I am exaggerating.) Read your history books. Many people
objected in 1933 and were shouted down, called names, laughed at, and made fun of. When Winston Churchill pointed out
the obvious in the late 1930s while seated in the House of Lords in England (he was not yet Prime Minister), he was booed
into his seat and called a crazy troublemaker. He was right, though.
Don’t forget that Germany was the most educated, cultured country in Europe . It was full of music, art, museums, hospitals,
laboratories, and universities. And in less than six years - a shorter time span than just two terms of the U. S. presidency
- it was rounding up its own citizens, killing others, abrogating its laws, turning children against parents, and neighbors
against neighbors. All with the best of intentions, of course. The road to Hell is paved with them.
As a practical thinker, one not overly prone to emotional decisions, I have a choice: I can either believe what the objective
pieces of evidence tell me (even if they make me cringe with disgust); I can believe what history is shouting to me from
across the chasm of seven decades; or I can hope I am wrong, close my eyes, have another latte and ignore what is transpiring
around me.
Some people scoff at me; others laugh or think I am foolish, naive, or both. Perhaps I am. But I have never been afraid to
look people in the eye and tell them exactly what I believe - and why I believe it. I pray I am wrong. But, I do not think
I am.
About the author …
Pamela “Atlas” Geller began her publishing career at The New York Daily News and subsequently took over operation of
The New York Observer as Associate Publisher. She left The Observer after the birth of her fourth child, but remained involved
in various projects including American Associates, Ben Gurion University and being Senior Vice-President Strategic
Planning and Performance Evaluation at The Brandeis School .
After 9/11, Atlas had the veil of oblivion violently lifted from her consciousness and immersed herself in the education and
understanding of geopolitics, Islam, terror, foreign affairs and imminent threats the mainstream media and the government
wouldn’t cover or discuss.
Please use the power of the Internet to get this message out. Talk it up at the grassroots level.
You’ll never call me an Orioles fan – I’ll be a NY Mets fan till the day I die, but living here on Delmarva it’s hard to avoid everything orange and black during the spring, summer and fall. But I will admit to watching a few O’s games in my day – especially when it came to some of the bigger games – like championship games and Cal’s streak, but now, the era of Orioles’ Magic is truly over.
most of my creatures have been cats – and 2 dogs. Puddkitty is the current critter and while she isn’t as animated as some that I’ve had, she does keep herself and me entertained. She also makes sure that any creepy crawly critter that manages to get into the house doesn’t stay for long. Now if only she would decide that cricket legs taste like chicken! She leaves those behind – I guess it’s just her gift to me, but it’s better than leaving ‘other’ things! Pudd likes height – the top of anything is a great perch – doors, furniture, the mantle. Even with only hind claws, she’s still a great climber.
Most of the cats I’ve had through the years have been social – they like the company of the humans in the house rather than going off on their own to sleep in a sunbeam.  Sam was a fighter – he protected the property from any other cat in the neighborhood. He was my only outside cat, but met his match when he went after a large four-legged – car. 
Samantha was my mouse cat. She could find any mouse that had the unfortunate luck to come into the house. Of course she didn’t hunt it – she played with it to death. And then just left it for Mommy to dispose of. She liked everyone and had the knack of finding the one person in a group who didn’t really like cats and 
did her best to change their mind.
Mickey was the lover of the bunch. He knew he was cute and worked it to the max and then just sat on you and purred, but sometimes I think he thought he was a dog. He is the only cat that actually came when you called him and he would play fetch with his toys!
she and Puddkitty came to me at the same time. Mo was 5 and very unhappy to be in such a noisy place and Pudd was 6 months and the baby in the cat room. Mo was like Pywich – older and aloof, but she was more sociable. Pudd you’ve already met.Â