Over the weekend, I witnessed the usual parade of bikers descending on the nation's capitol to pay their respects to those who've paid dearly in defense of freedom. The presence of so many men and women on motorcycles always leaves me with mixed emotions. I feel a sense of sadness for those who've passed on and a strong sense of respect for those who've spent the last week driving cross country to remember those who couldn't be here to participate.
Then I'm left with the bitter flavor of sudden realization that the interventionists who sent these men and women to their deaths are nowhere in sight. These interventionist cowards, who suffer under arrogant delusions that democratization at the point of a gun is worth the lives of men and women better than themselves. They'll never understand what it means to sacrifice their liberty, health or in far too many cases – their lives for causes the interventionists are too precious to die for themselves.
And they'll fly their flags and pledge their allegiances and never understand the concepts those symbols represent.