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Revolution for dummies

4 min read

With their Jan. 2 armed occupation of the Malheur National Wildlife Refuge in Oregon’s high desert country, Ammon Bundy and his followers have given revolutionaries a bad name. Initially appearing to be a group of rugged individualists seeking to protest “land grabbing” by the federal government, the group last week succeeded only in portraying its members as a bunch of namby-pambies.

A former member of the group told The Oregonian that Ammon and compatriot Ryan Lane, a militia leader from Montana, had begun to organize the occupation months previously. But the group seems woefully unprepared for the long-term siege they claim to be willing to endure. One week after the occupation began, Bundy’s mother released to social media a wish list of supplies that, in their haste to be modern-day Minutemen, her son and his followers had neglected to pack. It is a list that should make any true revolutionary retch.

Included among the necessities they requested are menthol cigarettes (can fight the feds, but not nicotine withdrawal); razors (the well-groomed anarchist gets the girl); and – something Marxist revolutionary Che Guevara surely must have demanded while hunkered down in the coffee fields of South America – French vanilla creamer. The list also has a number of spelling errors that make me think that, in addition to not paying attention during American history, Bundy family members skipped a few English classes.

If you can’t spell apron (“apran”), ice scraper (“scrapper”) or shaving cream (“crème”), don’t ask for my support. Moreover, if you need hair conditioner and body wash so as not to appear too slovenly for the media – and if you can’t revolt without sliced cheese and both mayonnaise and Miracle Whip – don’t expect me to consider you rugged.

I can’t help but wonder what America would look like today if some of our most famous revolutionaries had shared Ammon’s mettle:

March 23, 1775: Patrick Henry addresses the delegates to the Second Virginia Convention, ending his speech with these immortal words: “I know not what coffee others may take; but as for me, give me latte, or give me death!”

1777-1778: During the long winter at Valley Forge, General George Washington writes to his wife, Martha:

“You say the children ask how cold it is here. Simply tell them that the men in the ranks say that the temperature gives a whole new meaning to ‘freeze your privates.’ (There is levity even in war, my love; chastise me not.) Meanwhile, we struggle to endure, with too few blankets and shoes, and although the men say they find tree bark quite palatable, I fear that mutiny is afoot, and our cause will be lost unless you can persuade Dolly Madison to send some of her delicious snack cakes.”

1836: Excerpt from a note found in the rubble at the Alamo and passed down over generations until it was brought for valuation to “The Antiques Roadshow”: “Who knows where Bowie is? Last I seen him, he had put a gingham apran on a cactus and was carrying ‘her’ toward the barracks. Tell everyone things is dire. We has plenty of hardtack, but Crockett and his boys say that unless they get some mild salsa, they’s going over the wall tonight. So send some of that, along with the tequila and churros we ast fer yestiddy. And more sopapillas, too; we are but mortal men. — Travis”

I’m no anarchist. But if I were, I’d like to think that when my son asks, “What did you do in the Occupation, Daddy?” I could reply by saying something other than, “Held out for Miracle Whip.”

Sliced cheese?

Downright revolting.

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