David McElroy

Other than planning and thinking about the future of personal freedom, my biggest passion is probably the animals in my life. I’m a sucker for homeless animals, so all of the ones I have were homeless in one fashion or another. This is Charlotte, who is almost 2 years old. She and her two sisters are from a stray I took in not too long before they were born. The mother was too skittish to be adoptable, and her daughters inherited a good deal of her fear of people, so I didn’t believe anybody would be happy with them since they were never going to be typical cuddly house cats. Charlotte and her sisters, Emily and Anne, were named for the writing Bronte sisters. I’ll introduce you to others of the McElroy Zoo along the way, because I can assure you that they’re more interesting than I am.

One of the insidious things about the state is that it fosters dependence and a sense of entitlement. In one Alabama community that was hit hard by a recent tornado, survivors met last night to complain that the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) wasn’t doing enough for them. (This story is on the front page of the Birmingham newspaper.) Some of the people complaining about being denied money by FEMA were fully covered for their losses by insurance, oddly enough.

I’m a big believer in charity. I’m a part of a church where giving and volunteering are big parts of the theological culture, and I strongly believe in that. But nobody is entitled to other people’s money without consent. Our system of government takes what should be people helping people and turns it into another entitlement program.

Until last Friday, there was a huge tree that dominated a section of my back yard. From everything I could tell, the tree was healthy and vibrant — tall and lush and beautiful. But a brief thunderstorm Friday brought strong wind and rain. I happened to point my iPhone through the screen of an upstairs window to shoot a few seconds of video of the storm just in time to see that huge tree collapse like a toothpick.

When the rain ended, I was able to look at the tree. It turned out that the inside was rotten and dead. The outside of the tree and all the branches and leaves above were green and gave every indication of being healthy. But the core had apparently been dead for a long time.

Is the same thing going on in the United States today? The U.S. government appears strong. It has the world’s most powerful military. It still has influence far beyond the population that it rules. But decades of borrowing and spending are gutting the U.S. economy. Is the U.S. state more dead than we realize? Is it just going to take one powerful, sudden wind to knock it over, leaving its dead trunk lying around waiting to be cut up and carted away?