We’re in a Slow-Rolling Civil War, President Trump Needs to Recognize It

As a general rule, I don’t want to see people hit by cars. At least, I used to not want to. And, I suppose, I still don’t, but I wouldn’t mind Democrats, in and out of the media, ALMOST hit by a car so they can experience that immediate fear that comes when it happens. Then they can lecture me about what the ICE officer who was actually hit by Renee Good should have done instead of defending himself from the idiot leftist who was either trying to kill him or so stupid that she’d put herself into a position to panic and react stupidly in a way that he absolutely was justified in shooting her.

“Drive, baby, drive,” said Good’s wife as the tires spun and the high bumper of their SUV hit the officer, pushing him backwards – both feet at once, meaning either Good hit him or she was a Jedi with The Force – on the ice. Were he not standing on ice his feet would have had traction and he would have fallen, likely to be run over by several tons of the vehicle.

Democrats don’t care. They’d rather have law enforcement officers dead than, well, anything else.

The day before, Democrats spent hours praising Capitol Police for “protecting” them on January 6, 2021, and the next day it was back to “all cops are bastards!” for the left. How?

It’s pretty easy. Capitol Police protect THEM, all other officers protect us, and they don’t give a damn about us. They are important, the rest of us are obstacles.

The most anti-Second Amendment leftist politicians, media personalities or celebrities use armed security every time they feel like there is a possibility that someone might threaten them. If you want to defend yourself, screw off. You are disposable.

Renee Good was disposable. She became more useful to these grave dancing ghouls in death than she ever could be alive.

Good and her wife, in the officer’s cell phone video (it wasn’t a body cam, I don’t know why so few in the media can get this basic fact right) come off like women who have been insulated from consequences their entire adult life. By that I mean, they were aggressive and annoying in their actions and words – the type of people who get into someone’s face and scream that they dare them to hit them, knowing they won’t.

Anti-American Democrat groups, funded largely by billionaires like George Soros and Neville Roy Singham (look him up – if we had a competent Justice Department and FBI leadership over the last year, he would have been charged in a massive RICO case, but we didn’t…), and they train people to go right up to the line and dare police to hit them. Police don’t – their careers and freedom are on the line, while these Karens only have celebrity and a Rachel Maddow tongue bath interview awaiting them – but sometimes, these mentally unstable Democrats do cross the line and spit or hit cops.

They are immediately arrested, then released on bail. Within 3 months, once people stop paying attention, charges get dropped. Any lawyer they may need in that time is free (either volunteer or paid by those rich guys), and they walk away to do it all over again, heroes to mutants and in their own minds.

That adds up – giving a sense of being 10-feet-tall and bulletproof. Renee Good found out the hard way just how false that feeling is. You can argue all day whether or not you think Good deserved to die, but she certainly earned it.

She hit the officer with her car, as her wife encouraged her to act stupidly. Her motivation matters not when instilling a justified fear for his life in the officer.

Over her suicide by stupidity, the left wants civil war. They’re still angry they lost the first one, and are always looking for an opportunity to murder people who refuse to obey them.

These people are evil. There’s really no other word for it. Watch this video of these morons obstructing law enforcement and ask yourself if any injuries they might incur would be their responsibility or not? It’s impossible to care what happens to people like this, they’re demented. And Democrats take advantage of them.

Renee Good was a mother, either of one or three kids. I’ve heard both reported and haven’t bothered to look it up because she actively chose activism over her kid(s) and life. How was she able to afford to be out on a weekday, during work hours, playing activist? Was she paid? Was this her job? If we have a good media and competent FBI we might find out. I’m not holding my breath.

Good wasn’t alone, these demented weirdo women who are missing something in their lives that leads them to the streets and to put their lives in danger to protect rapists and murders are large in number. More will probably die – you can’t fix stupid, especially when coupled with an arrogant sense of purpose rooted in emotion, and these people are nothing but emotion. They can’t talk, they can’t communicate, they can’t make an argument, all they can do it start fights and yell.

“Drive, baby, drive,” will be on a bumper sticker before too long, indicating that money is more important than Renee’s life to the left, and maybe to her. She may well be happy to have been a martyr, false as it is, to the cause. Democrats canonize junkies, surely Good will be a mural by the end of the week.

But none of it will change the reality that she got exactly what anyone in that situation would have opened themselves up to. FAFO.

As long as Democrats encourage people to play in traffic, more people will die. As long as Democrats encourage people to threaten others, more people will die. As long as Democrats encourage people to attack police, more people will die. As long as Democrats encourage illegal aliens to stay in the country and people devoid of meaning in their personal lives to aid and defend them, people will die.

It’s already a slow-rolling civil war. As Democrat politicians and law enforcement encourage it and turn up the volume of the threats, that civil war will pick up speed. Democrats don’t care. Tim Walz, Jacob Frey, Stephen Colbert, Jimmy Kimmel, Dana Bash, etc., will not be harmed – they have security and won’t be within three solid tee shots of any of the violence they inspire – they’re evil, not stupid.

The liberal establishment recruits and preps the fodder, they don’t even get close enough to smell the powder from the cannons.

But make no mistake, war by proxy is still war. President Trump needs to recognize this, articulate the case against them, and act swiftly to make sure they don’t cause more destruction than they already have.

And he needs to clean the rest of the house at the DoJ and FBI, get rid of the remaining failed leadership and bring in competent people who will fight as hard as Democrats do to put as much of this mob of Brownshirts away. Let them serve as an example of what not to do, as Renee Good’s death should…but probably won’t.

“...clean the rest of the house at the DoJ and FBI...”

https://historyaffairs.com/the-fifth-labor-of-heracles-cleaning-the-augean-stables/

GREEK WORLD
The Fifth Labor of Heracles: Cleaning the Augean Stables

By the time Heracles dragged the Erymanthian Boar back to Tiryns, King Eurystheus had had enough.

Once again, the king was cowering inside his oversized storage jar while Heracles stood above him, holding the furious boar and pretending he might drop it in. The crowd laughed. Eurystheus trembled. Hera fumed. Every “punishment” they devised for Heracles only made him more admired and the king more ridiculous.

So for the fifth labor, Hera and Eurystheus tried a different kind of cruelty. Not another monster. Not a deadly beast. This time, they aimed for pure humiliation.

They sent Heracles to clean up someone else’s mess.

The new order sounded almost insulting compared to the previous labors:

“Go to the kingdom of Elis and clean the stables of King Augeas in a single day.”

No lions. No boars. No man-eating mares. Just manure.

But the task was anything but simple. Augeas ruled Elis in the western Peloponnese and was considered one of the wealthiest men in Greece. His fortune lay in cattle—over 3,000 head, the greatest herd anyone knew of.

These weren’t ordinary animals. Most accounts say Augeas’ father was Helios, the sun god, and that the herd had been a divine gift. The cattle, blessed by Helios, never got sick and never died. They were perfect, shining, immortal.

Immortal cattle, however, produce very mortal amounts of dung.

Over time, that divine blessing turned into a practical nightmare. The herd kept growing and never diminished. The stables—really a massive complex larger than some small towns—hadn’t been cleaned in over thirty years. The result was a landscape of filth: towering mounds of manure piled inside and around the enclosures, visible from far away, clogging the air with stench.

Eurystheus’ hope was simple: send Heracles to shovel dung until he collapsed. No glory, no songs, just a hero buried in muck.

As Heracles approached Elis, he could already see the problem silhouetted on the horizon: hills of waste rising around the Augean Stables. He knew exactly what Eurystheus was trying to do—this wasn’t about danger, it was about dignity.

Heracles, stubborn as always, made a private vow:

He would clean the stables in one day without touching a single piece of dung.

When he arrived at Augeas’ palace, he made another fateful decision.

Word from Eurystheus had not yet reached Elis. The king knew Heracles by reputation, but had no idea this visit was part of the hero’s punishment. Seeing an opportunity, Heracles made an offer:

If he could clean out the stables in a single day, Augeas would pay him with one-tenth of his divine herd.

For a man as wealthy as Augeas, this looked like a safe bet. The stables were a disgrace and a constant source of embarrassment. If Heracles could improve the situation even a little, great. But clean everything in one day? Impossible. Augeas accepted gladly, confident he’d never lose so much as a single immortal cow.

The agreement was made publicly, in front of the court. To keep things fair—so he thought—Augeas sent his son Phyleus to accompany Heracles and make sure there was no trickery.

The challenge would begin at sunrise.

Heracles Thinks Like an Engineer

Heracles is usually remembered as the guy who solves problems by hitting them very hard. But the Augean Stables show a different side of him.

At dawn, Heracles and Phyleus set out for the stables. Phyleus expected to see the hero wade into the muck and start flinging it out with sheer strength. Instead, Heracles did something very strange.

He ignored the gates and walked to one of the stable walls. Then he lifted his club—and smashed a massive hole straight through the masonry.

Next, instead of shoveling, he started digging.

With his bare hands, Heracles carved a huge trench leading away from the hole. Then, halfway along, he split the trench in two, sending each branch off in a different direction. He labored relentlessly, moving from one trench to the other, widening and deepening them as the sun climbed higher in the sky.

By noon, he still hadn’t stepped inside the stables. Not once.

Phyleus must have been baffled. But as the afternoon wore on, the pattern became clear. Each trench had a destination: one toward the river Alpheus, the other toward the river Peneus, the two great waterways of the region.

Heracles wasn’t going to clean the stables by hand. He was going to weaponize nature itself.

By mid-afternoon, the trenches reached the rivers. Now the real work began.

Using his strength and the channels he had carved, Heracles diverted both the Alpheus and the Peneus from their normal courses and guided their rushing waters straight toward the hole he’d smashed in the stable wall.

What followed was simple and devastating.

The combined force of the rivers roared through the Augean Stables like a living flood. Decades of accumulated filth—mountains of dung, rotting straw, and muck—were ripped from the floors and swept out through the channels Heracles had dug.

In a little over an hour, the stables that had not been cleaned in thirty years were scoured bare.

The rivers did in one afternoon what no number of laborers could have managed in months. And just as he had promised himself, Heracles never had to put his hands in the dung.

Task completed. Time to get paid.

Broken Promises and a Rigged Trial

When Augeas saw the result, he was stunned. The impossible had been done. His stables were clean; the air was breathable; the disgrace was gone.

But now the king had a new problem: honoring his promise.

Losing a tenth of his herd was suddenly much more real than it had seemed the previous day. Before he could decide what to do, however, the missing piece of the story arrived. Messengers from Eurystheus reached Elis and revealed that cleaning the stables had been Heracles’ fifth labor all along.

As soon as Augeas heard this, he decided to wriggle out of his agreement.

He claimed that since the task had been part of Heracles’ divine punishment, the hero had no right to ask for payment. Worse, he flatly denied that any deal had ever been made. He accused Heracles of greed and disrespect—toward himself and toward Eurystheus.

Heracles protested furiously. He had made a fair bargain and kept his side of it. Augeas, confident in his power and expecting his subjects to back him, coolly suggested they take the matter to court.

Heracles agreed.

At the trial, most witnesses conveniently “remembered” nothing of the arrangement. It looked like Augeas would win easily—until his own son, Phyleus, took the stand.

Phyleus told the truth.

He confirmed that the deal had been made, in public, and that Augeas had sworn to pay Heracles a tenth of his herd if the stables were cleaned in a day.

It should have settled the matter. Instead, it unleashed the king’s rage.

Rather than honor his word, Augeas doubled down. He refused to pay, branded both Heracles and Phyleus as troublemakers, and banished them from his kingdom. Phyleus was sent into exile on the island of Dulichium, where he would later found a settlement. Heracles left Elis swearing that one day he would return and take revenge.

That promise, too, he would keep—but only after his labors were over.

Eurystheus Strikes Back

When Heracles returned to Tiryns, tired but victorious, he found yet another twist waiting for him.

Eurystheus had heard the whole story: the deal with Augeas, the trial, the broken promise. For the king, this was finally the excuse he needed.

He announced that the cleaning of the Augean Stables would not count as one of Heracles’ labors.

The reasoning was cold and technical. The labors were supposed to be acts of atonement carried out under Eurystheus’ command, with no reward and no complaints. By asking for payment, the king claimed, Heracles had turned this labor into a private business arrangement. Therefore, it didn’t fulfill the conditions of his punishment.

Heracles had accomplished the impossible, humiliated no one but his enemies, and transformed a cesspit into a clean complex in a single day—and still, Eurystheus managed to twist it against him.

To make things worse, the king added a new task to replace the one he had just struck off the list. The sentence of Hera and Eurystheus would last longer than before.

For a moment, even Heracles’ legendary self-control slipped. The disappointment hit him hard. But he said nothing. No protest, no argument. He steadied himself, stood tall in front of the king, and waited.

The next order came:

“For your sixth labor, you will go to the marshes of Lake Stymphalia… and slay the Stymphalian birds.”

The rivers had washed away the filth of Augeas’ kingdom, but not the pettiness of kings—or the cruelty of gods.

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