Monday, March 25, 2013

Almond Preference


This past week in my EMT course we had to practice pediatric assessments. In the complex where the course is held is a small daycare, and the parents of the children agree to allow EMT students to take the vitals of their children. Children terrify me, they make me feel uncomfortable, and self-conscious. Another guy in my group felt even stronger about this. Heroically, others took the lead, and I was able to follow. The first challenge with children is that you have to convince them that the uncomfortable assessment you are about to give them is fun. To perpetrate this ruse, you build trust by talking to them about the things that small children think about. While this, in many ways, is the same with any patient, the questions change for children. Listening in on what the dads were asking, I was able to ask questions that apparently are important to young children.

Some of these questions were convenient, “how old are you” is both medically relevant, and something children want to tell you? Others are meaningless, but allow you to connect to the patient, “what is your favorite color”? My patient liked purple and yellow, which I agreed were great colors, but admitted that I like orange a little better than yellow, allowing me to introduce my bright orange stethoscope to the mix. The rest of the patient assessment ranged from medical to entertainment, to being mauled by the energetic child that took two students to almost get through a full assessment.

On Friday and Saturday nights in this course one of the instructors puts on a movie after post-dinner chores and studying is done. It cuts into sleeping, but since no one has gotten enough sleep this month, it does not really matter, you just get to relax a bit with the people you have been building stress with over the last few days. A friend of one of the instructors was here, and we started chatting after I was the only person in the lodge to agree to a bit of dancing before the movie began (I had the night off from chores).

The questions, while certainly more elaborate than the pediatric questions, were really much the same. Obviously they are asked for different reasons, but overall, they are mindless, and how the person answers is more important than what the person answers. In the pediatric exam we are assessing level of consciousness, looking for signs of abuse, and above all, what is wrong with the patient. With new acquaintances we evaluate the person for other reasons.

The first question for anyone is name, then for adults we trend into career, then interests, etc. Inevitably, age comes up, just like with the pediatrics. I do not value age unless it is relevant to the task at hand. If someone is interested in medical school later in life (like me) I am often curious how long the person has been out of school. Not for the sake of their age, but rather because I find inspiration in people who have established themselves, then change. In general though, I despise the age question, and I try to dodge it. I find it more interesting for the other person to decide my age, and allow them to see the qualities (good or bad) in me based on their judgment, rather than on a number I tell them.

Similarly arbitrary questions get tossed into the mix until we decide if we want to know the person or not. Each question, for me, is more tiring than the last. Not because I do not enjoy getting to know a new person, but rather because the simple question is actually not simple at all to answer. Stealing from the writers of 30 Rock I have begun describing my favorite color as Rainbow. Why? Because I like bright gear, orange and red, but I like the green hues of the forest, and warm colors in cozy homes. How could I choose a favorite?

Beyond situational dependency, choosing a favorite object or idea is challenging because we are blinded in our ability to choose by normal stimuli. The best example for this, I think, is in food, and no better example in food exists than mixed nuts. My father, if I recall correctly, scavenges mixed nuts for the Brazil nuts. This is a noble nut, somewhat rare in a can of mixed nuts, packed with protein (I have been told meaningless numbers such as, “as much usable protein as a four ounce steak”), a delicate flavor, and a delightful crunch. How could one of the rarest nuts in the can not be a favorite? Because the pistachio, while maybe slightly less protein packing, presents in a sea of brown and beige as an intriguing epidote, turns to a smooth butter with chewing, and has layers of nuanced flavors. In the pistachio's equal rarity, it is a powerful contender for the favorite nut in the can. Cashews, beloved by so many, have become fairly common in mixed nuts. It has a subtle crunch, and a smooth and wonderful texture when chewed. The slightly sweet flavor of the cashew makes it standout in the savory mix, and can be prepared into some of the most amazing sauces of the culinary world. While I have little love for the strange appearance and bitter flavor of the walnut, I am sure, somewhere, a walnut enthusiast exists who would be offended by my dislike.

While the filbert raps itself in the most beautiful shell, the real mystery of the nut bowl are the peanuts and almonds. Peanuts, though deadly to some, provides some of my favorite protein. The shells are easy to peel, the flavor is agreeable with almost any other food, the mouth feel is pleasing, and the butter is delicious beyond word. Tell someone that the peanut is your favorite, and you might as well have declared yourself a communist at an NRA meeting. The almond, though slightly more loved than the peanut is perhaps my preferred nut. Certainly they are everywhere, but they looks like Max from Flight of the Navigator, the crunch is unparalleled, the flavor is delightful, but not overpowering. Almond butter is good on toast, in smoothies, and can almost match the cashew in sauce potential. No one loves the almond though, because they are so very common.

In normal chitchat though, if someone asked what my favorite nut is, I am faced with a choice, tell the truth, and be regarded as bland, tell a lie, and know that I am phony, or unleash a pages long diatribe about the impossibility of a succinct answer, and be regarded as crazy. Luckily for me, there are some people who like a little insanity in their friends.   

Monday, March 18, 2013

WEMT Course

I am currently taking a WEMT Course, which is in an internetless location in Leavenworth, WA, and takes an astonishing amount of my time every day.  In addition to the time constraints, it has been pretty exhausting.  Never underestimate the energy required to lie mostly naked in the woods, at night, at 30 degrees, pretending to have a sucking chest wound for six hours.  I will endeavor to find the time to put something up by next Monday, and I think I should be able to do it.

The course is interesting, and some stories from this month will surely make it on to Faux Social in the coming months, but right now it is a little too overwhelming to discuss with anyone not in the course.  Some how talking about how a pretend trauma patient physically battered you during a pretend vehicle extraction doesn't sound like a major event to people who are not also in the car, wrestling a combative patient from the driver's seat.  Trust me, after doing that all afternoon, there is not much energy left to think of what to write.  Maybe I will write about a few scenarios for the next post, or maybe it will be about Christmas again... From my mind, not even I can predict.

My fingers are starting to get cold from writing in my mountaintop office (I have to walk up a significant ridge to make phone calls or use the internet), and dinner has been served down in the lodge.  With that, I wish all of you dear readers the very best, and encourage you to check out Matchbox Childhood, a post that was greatly overshadowed by the shooting at Sandyhook Elementary if you are in need of your Faux Social fix for the week.

Sunday, March 10, 2013

Trusting in Santa

Growing up, my parents, like so many other parents the world over, tried to make Christmas special for my brother and I.  Part of the magic of Christmas was Santa Claus.  I think the last thing I truly believed in, or wanted to believe in, was Santa.  Like God, Santa was a tad judgmental for my liking, but overall, he seemed like a jolly piece of magic that made life a little bit better.  Unlike God, Santa did not have a wrathful side.  Santa was God with a carrot and no stick.

My disbelief in God began with the negative parts of the Bible.  I do not think Hell ever made sense to me.  A value probably created by my mother, who believes that all good people, regardless of religion, go to Heaven.  Lots of people talk about this issue with religion.  Someone has never heard of Christianity, or Islam, or whatever religion, and they suffer eternal damnation because their state suppresses religion, or because, through no fault of their own, they are naive?  Is not the whole point of the parable of Eden that innocence (naivety) is sacred?  That knowing evil in itself is a sin?  If someone is being evil through naivety, are they not innocent as they do not know good?

My Mother's big heart and love of all people was, oddly, a credible source of my doubt in God.  Somehow, I feel no resentment that I was forced through communion, or any negative feelings towards those responsible for exposing me to religion.  Pastor Nelson, as I recall, was a kind and patient man, who listened to our questions, gave spiritual answers, and put up with our shenanigans.  I was not old enough to ask him about the issues that most upset me about many religions as an adult, but if he is accepting of adults, as he was of an agnostic in his communion class, then I think he could be counted among the spiritual leaders that I respect.

On the other side though, I actually have some level of resentment regarding Santa Claus.  Not anger, I do not hold it against anyone, as they thought they were doing something fun and magical, but I do admit that I feel some level of frustration, confusion, and shame on the subject.  

First, frustration.  I fancy myself to be a fairly bright guy.  Accordingly, I think I was a pretty bright kid.  So why could I not figure this out?  I was certainly skeptical.  I made hypotheses, and attempted to test them.  I tried to stay up to see Santa, but, like any pseudo-science, the hypothesis is inherently untestable.  Santa, after all, only comes after you are asleep.  Thus, all of my attempted observations failed, and every adult I knew supported the existence of this magic.  I suppose the doubt and skepticism was there, but I wanted to believe, so I could not rationalize these thoughts.  Accordingly, I am frustrated at my childhood self for not behaving more logically.

Second, confusion.  Why did and do all of these people keep suggesting that Santa Claus existed/exists?  Is it for themselves?  Does it actually make childhood better?  For some kids and adults, I think it probably does, but in all honesty, I think my life would have been better without Santa Claus.  I came to that conclusion long ago, but people who earnestly feel that as fun as Santa was, it probably is not worth it are very hard to find.

Third, shame.  I think shame is the natural progression after frustration.  If I am frustrated that it took me so long to figure the Santa thing out, it is only natural that I should feel ashamed, albeit not very ashamed, that others figured it out before me, and knew that I was not as quick as they were in this matter.  Out of shame, confusion, and frustration grows resentment about the experience.

Since these are not defining feelings, they really only come up in discussions about religion, or when spending all night with a new friend talking about life.  While it makes an interesting story, I moved on long ago.  I have occasionally wondered if other people have not moved on, but never enough to actually ask people.  Then, on the 2012 Christmas This American Life, was someone who not only resented the mythology of Santa, but was pretty legitimately angry about it.  It seemed like he calmed down, but the TAL has it that the family is careful about discussing childhood Christmases, and in University the child confronted his parents about it. He cited it as the source of his trust issues, which were interfering with his romantic relationships.  So some people do feel pretty strongly about it.

I Googled a few phrases.  "Santa Resentment," nothing.  "Trust issues resulting from Santa," mostly counselling for trust issues in Santa Monica, or Santa Barbara, or similar locations.  I did find a blog post written by some mothers about talking about coming clean about Santa Claus.

The blog, written by Michele Robert Poche and Melissa Bugaj (though this one seems written primarily by Poche, whose name I will use from this point forward) is interesting in several aspects.  First, that parents seem to genuinely regret their children's natural progression through life.  Not that parents do not want their children to grow up, I think most parents would say that watching their child grow is the biggest reward of parenting.  However, parents seem to go through the all too common pet owner's remorse when the cute puppy, bunny, or kitten grows into a full sized animal with needs and responsibilities.  Are puppies cute?  Yes, but I like dogs better.  Are kittens cute?  Yes, but I like cats better.  I do not understand the draw to rodents, so I do not really have an opinion between bunnies and rabbits, but for consistency, I will claim to prefer rabbits to bunnies.  With people, I prefer adults to children.  Accordingly, I do not understand when parents rue their child growing out of Santa Claus, and into rock climbing (or whatever).  Is Santa fun?  Yes, but rock climbing is year round.

Next, Poche suggests that parents discuss the legend of Santa.  Without intending to offend any Catholics, it seems to me the whole point of saints is the legend, or mythology.  When visiting Montreal, I went to Saint Joseph's Oratory of Mont Royal, and learned about Brother Andre.  Brother Andre was canonized in 2010, in living memory of his death.  His canonization was controversial because his "miracles" were to well or poorly documented, and too recent for many to believe in them.  Without espousing too much heresy, are not all miracles performed by saints largely myth?  The point of faith in saints and miracles is to believe in something more powerful than one's self.  To trust that there is benevolence available to help and comfort in times of difficulty.  Does St. Nick loose that magic if he is not a fat man in a red suit?

The idea of a magical Christmas without Santa Claus stuck with me.  Why do we need reindeer and commercialism to have magic at Christmas?  Why do we, in the words of Poche, dupe children into this belief?  There is a lot of magic, based on myth, religion, or science around the time of the winter solstice.  The observed birth of God incarnate, combined with the spirit of giving embodied by St. Nicholas seems pretty magical.  The Pagan celebration of the return of the sun, with all of the mythology surrounding that seems pretty magical.  The movement of celestial bodies so as to bring about a change of seasons, change the length of the day, and cause/end seasonal affected disorder seems pretty "magical."  Call any of these religion, myth, or science, and it seems like there is magic and celebration in the season.  Is Santa really the source of magic at Christmas?  But I digress in my pursuit of the broader point.

Poche was surprised that her son felt a brief pang of resentment.  He just discovered that for his entire life, everyone he knew had lied to him.  Take an adult, what would that be like now?  To discover that you had been lied to by every one of your loved ones for your entire life.  I think of the Truman Show, or of stories of adults who discover they were adopted.  It seems like this is reason to come unhinged, talk to a therapist, ask big questions about who you are, and slowly adjust to your new reality.  Would it be cause to stop loving your loved ones?  No, but I think resenting the lie would be normal and healthy.

In her son's moment of confusion, Poche rushes in with the most striking aspect of her posted experience with her son.  She asks if they should tell his younger sister?  She asks (using her capitalization), "...if he planned to perpetuate the magic for HIS kids when HE was [sic] a dad"?  Given that she uses the word magic for asking about the future, I can only assume she used the same loaded language for the sister.  How unfair!  Maybe she could have asked, "should we ruin Christmas for your sister"?  Or, "are you going to insist on your children's unhappiness"?  A child cannot help but agree with their parent's point of view when confronted with that.  I apologize to Ms. Poche for using her as an example in this.  I am also sure that every single person who has contributed half a cell to the life of a person will condemn what I am saying as being unfair, that parents have to pass on their values, and have a duty to instill morals in their children.  It goes without saying that unfair tactics such as these are essential tools in the parent's arsenal, and I am not advocating that any parent feel guilt for celebrating Christmas with Santa.  The point is, the child had no choice but to believe in Santa, then had no choice but to say Santa was a net good, without considering a Christmas/solstice celebration that was steeped in other types of magic.

Though I can think of nothing I want less than having a child, I have thought about parenting a lot.  If I were to have a child, I would want to give it the tools that I do not have.  I would want it to be fluent in at least one other language.  I would want it to truly have the opportunity to go to MIT.  These sorts of things translate to money more than anything else.  While the immense cost of having a child is not my reason for not wanting one, it solidly proves that there is no good time in life to have a child.  With this in mind, I realize that Santa Claus is just a small part of this.  

Poche, in addition to not giving her child a fair choice about Santa, is clearly telling her child that he must, in order to be a proper human, have a child.  I grew up with childless role models, which I think made it easier for me to understand my own lack of desire to sire children.  Yet, I remember the "when you have kids," messages I got growing up.  Even into adulthood, well after I started making it clear to the world that I did not want, nor would I ever have children, the attitude continued.  You find someone to marry, then you have children.  Other non-child wanting individuals and couples I have met have encountered this same attitude.  A friend of mine was once told by a friend, "you'll have kids, everyone has kids."

Santa Claus and having children are part of the American myth that children are born into.  I assert that Santa is not about making Christmas magic for children, but for parents.  So many children are told they will have children so often I wonder what percentage of people have children owing to genetic urges, societal pressure, and a reasoned desire to have children.  Children being told they will have children is not important for the child, but for the parent.  It reassures the parent that it is normal and right to have children, and it makes it magical to look forward to grandchildren before the child has grown out of the cute puppy stage.  The magical world is not just related to Santa and future generations, but the American Dream in itself is parent magic.

Children are told that they can be anything they want by not only their parents, but also career councilors and politicians.  If I dreamed big as a child it was probably to be an engineer, astronaut president.  I got my engineering degree, so one third of the dream was realized.  Unfortunately for the astronaut part, those highly coveted positions require a couple of things that I cannot control.  First, there must be political support for the betterment of society, which, in the case of NASA has been steadily declining since it peaked the day of JFK's assassination.  Second, you must be physically perfect, and my deficient eyesight excluded me from the typical astronaut path.  While Mars One may be an option for me, I think my motion sickness might also be an issue.  Lastly, being President of the United States is a little less likely than dreaming of being a lottery winner.  Legally, one must be 35 to be President, but the youngest elected president was 43 (JFK, T. Roosevelt was 42 when McKinley was assassinated).  The oldest was just shy of 70 (Reagan).  This means that the maximum age range is about 35 years, but more realistically 25 years.  Being born in an election year I would actually have to be 36 to run for office, a one year disadvantage, but some Americans have a three year disadvantage when it comes to age.  Regardless, for the 25 or so electable years, there will be a maximum of about 6 presidents.  Based on the US population in 2000 (a crude method), the likelihood of being elected US President is about one in 15 million (1/15,000,000).  The likelihood of winning the big lotteries (Powerball or Mega Millions) is something on the order of 1/175,000,000, an order of magnitude less than that of being elected president, winning a million dollar lottery (Hot Lotto) is about as likely (1/11,000,000).  Basically, a child cannot be anything it wants to be when it grows up, nor will it move up in social class.

This will strike many as a grim way of looking at a child's chances, and it probably is.  The point remains that we tell children these things because it creates magic for the parent.  The child will eventually have to realize that it cannot be anything it wants, and that Santa does not exist.  To those who will argue with me, I do not believe in Santa and I did (and kind of still do) want to be President, but won't be.

Monday, March 4, 2013

Why American Needs Weapons Control: Part II - Fear


When people talk about genetically engineered babies I think first of Gattaca, then of the rational implications, when people talk about predicting who will commit crimes I think first of Minority Report.  I feel a little ashamed that I think of Minority Report because it is a terrible movie, but it pops to mind every time.  How can a world where we incarcerate people before they commit a crime be more free than a world where we limit access to the most deadly weapons?  Eventually, rational thought kicks in, and I am immediately concerned about other aspects about talking about violent video games, the depressed, anger, and the likelihood that a young man will become a killer.

I played violent video games as a teen.  In my opinion they are not as fun as Nintendo's Mario Kart, but I cannot deny that many of them are fun.  Some industry spokesman suggested that people try playing video games before they condemn them, and I have to agree.  There were days, as a confused and often angry teen I would come home from a bad day and see how many Soviets I could kill in Golden Eye before succumbing to their gunfire.  A few levels I became so good at I could do this indefinitely.  It was not as fun as playing Mario Kart with my brother, but my brother was at college, and most of the time I felt alone.

Feeling alone is another warning sign, supposedly.  Whenever I hear statistics about a percentage of people who admit to having felt, at some point in their life, alone, or having thought about suicide, I think what I am hearing is actually a statistic about how comfortable people feel about being honest.  If a study reports that 70% of people report that they have felt utterly alone at some point in their life, what the statistic is really saying is that 30% of people surveyed were liars.  The question is why are there so many liars?

I think the answer to that is simple.  Listen to a single news report about depression, a single one, particularly in the wake of tragedies, and you know, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that you cannot ever admit to any of those thoughts, to anyone.  On the PBS News Hour psychologists and researchers refer to those who are suffering depression as "those people."  I understand that it is convenient to separate those who are depressed from those who are not, but if one is wallowing in self-hatred is it really attractive to be one of them, rather than one of us?  One interviewee stated that what perpetrators of mass shootings want most of all is to belong to a community, but continued to talk about them as outsiders.  Psychological experts talk about removing the stigma of mental illness, then talk about how "these people" have "defective" brains.  Imagine the gasps if a neurosurgeon told reporters that we need to remove the social stigma of cripples!  That surgeon would be censured (as they should!), but psychologists continue to bash away at people who feel alone, depressed, or chronically sad.

I fully support paying taxes to fund public health, including mental health.  I fully support removing the stigma of mental illness.  With every interview I hear, (recently an interviewer on the News Hour implied that teens who are depressed are on their way to becoming psychopaths) I feel like we are farther from where we need to be.  In fact, I find it not unlike the psychology's labeling of homosexuality as a mental illness, both treatable and curable.  We are still fighting that utterly ridiculous, fear-based, hate-filled "diagnosis."  The difference here is that depression is treatable, but when the diagnosis can cost you jobs, livelihood, and success, is it really treatable?

The problem is that after a tragedy like Newtown, we do not want to be like the perpetrator.  To much fanfare, a very brave woman published a blog entitled "I am Adam Lanza's Mother."  She has some sound perspectives, and her child does sound quite troubled and in need of help.  However, she also does not keep weapons (including sharp objects) in the house.  So, in some ways, she is not Adam Lanza's mother.  Furthermore, how do you separate the kids who have anger management issues from the mentally ill?  In this child's case, it seems reasonably obvious that he does need help, and prison is not the help he needs.  For many children, if violent outbursts (which I would guess almost every youngest sibling has had) are cause to be ostracized from the community, how many mothers will protect their children, rather than ask brave questions?

Beyond mothers protecting their children from being labelled monsters, society does not want to be like the monsters.  After the Nuremberg Trials people began asking questions about how such atrocities could be committed.  No one wanted to be like the leaders, the officers, or those who perpetrated these crimes against humanity.  In subsequent scientific research, we found out that we were actually quite like the Nazis.  Most of us had never been ordered to murder anyone, but if we were, we would probably do it.  No one wants to be like Adam Lanza, and no one wants to be Adam Lanza's mother.  Truth be told, we all probably could be, and that is the stigma with mental health.

We stigmatize mental health because we see ourselves in the symptoms of every diagnosis.  This American Life did an episode about the psychopathy test.  Included in the episode was each member of the staff being assessed by a licensed test administrator.  The cast talked about who they thought would rate the highest on the psychopathy test, where the higher the score, the more psychopathic.  They even worried that some of them may actually be psychopaths.  After the drum role and the suspense, not a single member of the staff scored a single point on the psychopathy test.  Yet these people, who had been researching the psychopathy test and psychopaths, were legitimately worried that they were psychopaths.

We stigmatize mental health, rather than embracing the help it could probably provide everyone, because we fear ourselves.  I think for this very reason, mental health acceptance is no closer than (additional) effective weapons control.  We know from American examples, and from comparisons with other nations that eliminating firearms does reduce firearms deaths, yet many Americans vehemently argue against this.  With no disrespect intended toward anyone, nor especially to the person who discussed weapons control with me, but the more weapons argument is an argument of fear.

Weapons control advocates are often accused of being afraid, and I suppose we are.  I suppose my arguments are based on the fear that there are a class of weapons so common, cheap, and available as to be called "Saturday night specials."  I worry what a world will look like where the wealthiest nation continues to proliferate the most weapons.  I fear a world where people who claim the be "Constitutionalists" disregard the pursuit of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness in favor of weapons for all.  Yet, I think these fears pale in comparison to the fear that grips people who are weapons advocates.  I do not go to a restaurant worried that I will be shot by a stranger before I leave.  The concealed carry advocates say that it is not fear, but a desire to save lives.  But if it is about saving lives, why not carry an AED?  Heart disease kills more people in the United States than any other cause of death.  While I think there is a lot of argument about what really stops a man with a gun, but effective use of an AED is the only thing that will restart a heart.

What does fear taken to extremes look like?  Hate.  Racism is rooted in fear.  Homophobia is rooted in fear.  People so overcome with fear that they begin to hate retreat into a safe group, or so it seems to me.  They may retreat to clubs or gangs.  They seek irrational solutions.  The Black Panthers advocated gun rights before the NRA took up its current call.  Both groups seem driven by extreme fear.  Today's fear driven lunacy is causing people to retreat into extremist enclaves in this country.

My brother jokingly said about my post, "The Hipsters Grow Up" that like my car-free ideal city, there was a group of the right wing who wanted to build a fortified city in Idaho, and he didn't think they would have cars either.  I looked it up.  It seems to be an offshoot of a group of people called the 3 Percenters who argue, based on the American Revolution, it requires only three percent of the population to over throw a government.  The 3% crowd seems to not realize that the American Revolution was supported by the French Government, and was one of the few successful revolutions the British were fighting at about the same time (admittedly I do not know what percent of the Indian population were fighting the British).  They also seem to have forgotten that the American militias had swords, muskets, and cannons, much like the British, and forget that today's 3% would probably not have missiles, fighter jets, etc.  Can you fight a war with IEDs that no one really wins?  It seems that the Taliban have proven this.  Can you win a modern revolution with 3% of the population?  I doubt it, but why would you want to?  It seems like most Western governments are pretty fair most of the time, and are generally getting better.  Will violent revolution come again, I imagine, but no need to rush it.

Regardless of the practicalities of winning a modern revolution (see my post "Defining Tyranny" for more discussion of this), this offshoot of the 3% want to build AR-15 style weapons in a fortified city in Idaho.  I am not kidding about this.  Apparently this group, led largely by a convicted fraudster, wants you to send them money to help create a gun toting mecca of a Constitution-less America.  Their website, complete with a fear driven ad reading, "Get an AR before its too late," talks about the benefits of living life in a medieval-style walled, extremist city.  The fraudster proponent, being a convicted felon, cannot legally own a firearm (perhaps that is where all the rhetoric of following "Constitutional laws" comes from), but is advocating a city where everyone over age 13 would be required to carry a firearm at all times.  There is quite a bit of fun to be had on their website.  The 13 rules (anti-freedoms?) outlined in the "Patriot Agreement" include provisions to forcibly eject people from their poured concrete homes if they fail to be able to shoot a human shaped target with a rifle and a handgun, stockpile sufficient ammunition, and, by my reading, fail to have at least three members of the household over the age of thirteen at all times.  Again, I am not kidding about this, this is all on their website.  They have an artist's impression of what the city might look like, and my brother is correct, there does not appear to be room for roads.  The artist also thought completely walling off the school from the town (a solid wall without a gate or door surrounds the school) would be a good way to avoid the "indoctrination" that children currently receive from the school system.  They suggest that marxists, socialists, liberals, and republicans would be uncomfortable living in the city, though presumably they would be allowed to so long as they follow the Patriot Agreement.

I accuse this group of wanting a Constitution-less America, which I am sure they would get rather angry about.  Yet, the word constitution does not appear on their homepage, so even they are more interested in "Rightful Liberty" than an America governed by the Constitution.  My evidence is not simply that they do not talk about the Constitution very much, but that they actually eschew it.  If you look through the history books of extremist communities in the United States you will find that the American weapons love affair peaked not in the "Wild West" where strict weapons control was a common method to preserve order, but in modern times.  In our modern craze, Americans have actually tried to make it a legal requirement to own a firearm.  If my memory serves correctly, Reserve, NM tried this (I was stranded there once owing to a breakdown, the cafe did not have vegan options), and just like all the other times this has been tried, it was rejected by the courts as unconstitutional.  So how will the 3%'s Citadel get around the constitution allowing one to not carry a weapon?  The whole city will be private property belonging to the arms factory, and no one will be allowed to own their home.  This will work for them because, as they point out, on private property you can make all the anti-freedoms you want, just like Disneyland.

Imagining that this actually turns out to be real, happens, and 7,000 families move to a private walled city in Idaho where everyone over 13 is always armed.  What would have brought those people together?  They want to be surrounded by like minded people.  What is interesting about this group of people is that what is alike about them is not that they like anything in particular, but rather that they are afraid.  Admittedly, they do seem to like weapons, but reading their website, they fear the government, fear economic collapse, fear the collapse of civilization, fear the indoctrination of their children, fear the seizure of their weapons, the list of what they fear goes on and on.  They do not fear a frost-free growing season that they say is 60 days long interfering with agriculture in their entirely self-sufficient city/arms factory.

I think my fundamental concern with this movement is not their desire to create an extremist ghetto in Idaho, satirically I embrace the idea of extremists moving out of mainstream America and into self-made ghettos.  What I find disconcerting is that they are so full of fear that the biggest holiday of this Anti-Constitutionland will be April 19.  For those who thought it would be a Christian holy day or the Fourth of July who have no idea what is special about April 19, it is the anniversary of the bombing of the Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City.  These people fear the government so much that they are celebrating the murder of 168 people, including 19 children under the age of 6.  This is not fear of the government any more, it is pure hatred of America and Americans.

This is, of course, why America needs weapons control.  Most of the people who like the idea of the Citadel are probably mostly law abiding citizens (saving the felon leader).  Most of the people who like the idea of the Citadel are not mentally ill.  Most of the people who like the idea of the Citadel probably do not have a history of violence.  Most of the people who like the idea of the Citadel are the type of people who can legally buy, own, use, and sell firearms.  Yet all of the people who like the idea of the Citadel are willing to celebrate and condone murdering children.