They Always Kill Their Children First

We here at the Dougloid Towers have been watching events unfold in Iran, as a crooked election looks to be on its way to a done deal-at least, for now.

I suspect the great tide of history will wash these rascals out of office-maybe sooner, maybe later, quietly or kicking and screaming, but go they will.

One of the things that's notable is that the Boss Hog in Iran these days is always and forever being referred to, even in western news reports as "The Supreme Leader".

One of the telling hallmarks of oppressive government is its penchant for referring to the chief power wielder in such laudatory and self abasing tones: El Caudillo, Maximum Leader, Il Duce, Fuhrer, The Great Helmsman, Dear Leader, Great Leader, and so on.

It appears that although the Iranian state and its thugs and goon squads have succeeded in stifling dissent for now with a combination of prisons, truncheons, and rifle bullets, they've got to know that that is a temporary fix for what ails them, and that is that they stand foursquare against the inalienable right of people to a government of their own choosing that respects the rights of man and the essential dignity of all people.

The picture, of course, is of a demonstrator in Berlin holding a photo of Neda Soltani, gunned down in a Teheran street by the Islamic Republic's gunmen and thugs.

Shame on them.

They can no more hold back the press of events than King Canute could command the tide to halt. Parenthetically, they're proof positive of the abysmal failure of Islamic government to show the world that it's an idea worth considering. Every day, with every tweet and pirated video from a cellphone, the word's getting out.

I am in mind of the last letter Thomas Jefferson ever wrote, to Roger Weightman in late June of 1826. Jefferson was to die less than two weeks later.

Respected Sir

The kind invitation I receive from you on the part of the citizens of the city of Washington, to be present with them at their celebration of the 50th. anniversary of American independance; as one of the surviving signers of an instrument pregnant with our own, and the fate of the world, is most flattering to myself, and heightened by the honorable accompaniment proposed for the comfort of such a journey. it adds sensibly to the sufferings of sickness, to be deprived by it of a personal participation in the rejoicings of that day. but acquiescence is a duty, under circumstances not placed among those we are permitted to controul. I should, indeed, with peculiar delight, have met and exchanged there congratulations personally with the small band, the remnant of that host of worthies, who joined with us on that day, in the bold and doubtful election we were to make for our country, between submission or the sword; and to have enjoyed with them the consolatory fact, that our fellow citizens, after half a century of experience and prosperity, continue to approve the choice we made. may it be to the world, what I believe it will be, (to some parts sooner, to others later, but finally to all,) the Signal of arousing men to burst the chains, under which monkish ignorance and superstition had persuaded them to bind themselves, and to assume the blessings & security of self-government. that form which we have substituted, restores the free right to the unbounded exercise of reason and freedom of opinion. all eyes are opened, or opening, to the rights of man. the general spread of the light of science has already laid open to every view. the palpable truth, that the mass of mankind has not been born with saddles on their backs, nor a favored few booted and spurred, ready to ride them legitimately, by the grace of god. these are grounds of hope for others. for ourselves, let the annual return of this day forever refresh our recollections of these rights, and an undiminished devotion to them.

I will ask permission here to express the pleasure with which I should have met my ancient neighbors of the City of Washington and of it's vicinities, with whom I passed so many years of a pleasing social intercourse; an intercourse which so much relieved the anxieties of the public cares, and left impressions so deeply engraved in my affections, as never to be forgotten. with my regret that ill health forbids me the gratification of an acceptance, be pleased to receive for yourself, and those for whom you write, the assurance of my highest respect and friendly attachments.

Th. Jefferson