Be the Standard Bearer

It looks like a Peter Max tribute gone wrong. This is far from pleasing, with the blood-smear-like stripes and sheepish "O" with lines a bit too crisp to match the rest of the design. The colors are faded, like his posters and peeling bumper stickers. The thing is just ugly, but it's far more than that.

The U.S. flag code is usually ignored, save for the most patriotic and of course, the military. Most of it isn't even known to the average person. The code isn't punishable by law and thusly, viewed as more of a suggestion by most. Our flag code prohibits defacing of the flag, use of the flag on merchandise and even clothing. Olympians draping the flag on their shoulders has become accepted, but such things are discouraged by the code. What Obama's cronies have done here is not a 're-design' of our flag, as it has only 7 stripes and is the wrong colors, but rather a vague representation. That, in itself, isn't the issue as this is done quite often. The issue is the "O".

Anyone who argues in defense of Obama's throw-away campaign fund-raising poster is unlikely to get the offense. They see an 'inspirational' image much like Shepard Fairey's HOPE poster. They don't see the implications, the fact, much like this flag from earlier in the year, that Obama is the focus in an emblem of this country. Obama is the focus, the grounding element. This, dear reader, is huge.

Since his nationwide debut, Obama has been setting himself up as the leader of a political cult. He's 'branded' everything, put his creepy "O" on all he surveyed. Obama sees himself as the owner of his position, something only on privileged loan to him. He sees himself as appointed royalty when any political office is one of subservience to the American people (or it's supposed to be). To Obama and those around him, he is America. There is no need for the 'generic' patriotism of the past, Obama is here and we have a face to worship, a person to place above all others.

What's lost on Obama's acolytes is that the American flag is a symbol of all of us. It is a timeless banner of freedom and sacrifice. It affords everyone the opportunity for valor and independence. To place any one person in focus in reference to the flag is an assault on everyone. Venerating any one person or the idea of one person in a political sense is just a hop, skip, and stumble into dictatorship. The flag came first because freedom came first.

There may be some who believe America to be incapable of recovery. There are some who believe the cult of personality is too strong. I don't believe that. Though frightening in its implications, this 'flag' is a misguided stab at notoriety that won't last past November. It will be tossed out or end up at yard sales or thrift stores. The intention behind it, however, is a bit harder to sweep away. It's important for us, those who know what the flag truly means, to fight for those ideals. We cannot give up and run from the war. Since the founding of our great nation, standard bearers have carried our flag into battle. They have run headlong into the firefight and been cut down, but someone was always there to grab our banner from the mud and keep running. Be the standard bearer and hold her high; this fight is far from over.

Fading Posters and Empty Chairs

The 2012 RNC was an eventful one. We heard a lot of stories, learned a lot about Mitt Romney the man, and came away with a number of powerful images. Thanks to Paul Ryan and Clint Eastwood, we have two images that paint a perfect picture of this administration. I sat down this afternoon and sketched what my mind sees when I think of fading posters and empty chairs.

This country needs a jump start. We need to dust off and let our exceptionalism show. It's time.

Be a Happy Warrior

 Happy Warrior

Original vector art tribute

to Andrew Breitbart

Andrew Breitbart was a brave man, there was no denying it. Andrew wrote in an amended conclusion to his book Righteous Indignation, "Three years ago, I was mostly a behind-the-scenes guy who linked to stuff on a very popular website. I always wondered what it would be like to enter the public realm to fight for what I believe in. I’ve lost friends, perhaps dozens. But I’ve gained hundreds, thousands—who knows?—of allies. At the end of the day, I can look at myself in the mirror, and I sleep very well at night." They key here is that he was true to himself, the hypocritical world be damned.

I'm not as brave as he was, not yet. As an artist and graphic designer, I face a lot of opposition to my political beliefs. I keep my thoughts to myself for fear of being ostracized, something that could literally kill my career. There have been times when I was really incensed about something, the words dangling burning my tongue. But I said nothing. The fear of what could happen to me if people knew was just too strong. I had this blog, railed like a maniac on Twitter, but kept these things as separate from my professional life as possible. In the wake of Andrew's death, I'm ashamed of my cowardice.

I want to scale the tallest building in my city and yell it to the masses; I'm a conservative artist! I want people to know there's nothing wrong with expecting others to have personal responsibility, believing in fiscal independence and the sanctity of all life, and respecting the sacrifice of the military. The constitution of this great nation states I can have my beliefs just as they can have theirs. What I feel doesn't make me stupid and it doesn't make me a monster. My conservatism doesn't mean I'm any less talented as an artist. I make an effort to be kind to those with whom I disagree, to not make snap judgements. I dream of the day when my convictions won't be a detriment to my professional credibility.

Andrew Breitbart's passing has hit me harder than I expected. I share this today as a step on my way to true bravery. My name is Rachael and I'm a conservative. I will fight how I can. I will try to be a happy warrior.

Rest in Peace Andrew Breitbart

"When you arise in the morning, think of what a precious privilege it is to be alive - to breathe, to think, to enjoy, to love." -Marcus Aurelius

In the 2000 film Gladiator, former Roman general Maximus has a conversation with his gladiatorial leader Proximo. The older man spoke of meeting the great Marcus Aurelius. This had been the day he won his freedom. Maximus laughs and asks sarcastically, "You knew Marcus Aurelius?". Maximus had been close to Aurelius. Defensively, Proximo answers, "I didn't say I knew him, I said he touched me on the shoulder once!"

There are great warriors and brilliant people on this earth. Most of us will never have the pleasure of meeting them, let alone know them as friends. But the great ones don't have to share with us a deep relationship to touch us in a profound way. Andrew Breitbart was one of those people.

I never met Andrew, knowing him only by his efforts. I did interact with him a few times on Twitter and felt blessed to do so. I guess you could say he figuratively touched me on the shoulder once. He was brave, unashamed, and kind though many of his opponents would say otherwise. Andrew wasn't afraid to tell the truth in a world where the truth is only acceptable as long as it shields the right people from harm. He led a crusade against the bias of the media the way a great general leads men into battle.

Andrew was liked by many and shared his life with a wife and children whom he loved very much. His family will never be the same without him. We will never be the same without him. But we must soldier on. We must keep up the good fight for Andrew.

Marcus Aurelius said, "Let it be your constant method to look into the design of people's actions, and see what they would be at, as often as it is practicable; and to make this custom the more significant, practice it first upon yourself." Andrew Breitbart searched himself, readied himself for battle, and charged ahead. We must do the same in his honor and for the future of this country.

Hope is Gone

I will preface this post by admitting honestly that some of this man's work was well done and interesting. He has a nice technique with most things and above all, he knows how to keep his name on the hit list. That being said, Shepard Fairey is a raging poser. He's a hack who uses the fickle liberal mob mentality to feather his nest and fuel his larger-than-life ego. His latest offering shows us that not only is he a shameless opportunist (something his audience should shun) but he's run out of ideas.

The Occupy Wall Street movement is no stranger to slogans and provocative imagery. Their crass posters, oftentimes confusing and nonsensical, are inescapable. They've adopted the Guy Fawkes mask from "V for Vendetta" as their stand against 'oppression' and trot it out as often as possible. Shepard Fairy saw an opening and he took it with this boring and predictable recycle of his insipid Obama 'Hope' poster.

This 'humble' street artist (as he continues to be called though he's no longer either) had done a different poster for OWS, something a little less forward, less recognizable. I suppose that's why the new one came about; the first one didn't get enough attention. In this article, he's called a 'west coast legend' and let's face it, a man with a head that big wasn't about to let the cash-cow and hero worship of OWS pass him by.

As I said before, he's not completely devoid of talent, but as a graphic artist myself, I know what goes into the things he does. I know what kind of work is involved and I know how easy it is to recycle. When the first poster (something predictable but not awful) didn't get the buzz he wanted, he opened an old file he had floating around on his expensive computer and did some editing. He kept the colors and the technique, just changed out a few things and added some words. He even kept the Obama 'O' in much the same fashion, just added some hackneyed 99% mumbo-jumbo. This Guy Fawkes incarnation of his easily and oft-imitated red and blue poster wasn't much work for him at all and yet the adoring art community and OWS roll out their tongues for him like a red carpet.

It's easy to think the road to artistic success lies on the open range of propaganda. Propaganda is a frightening mistress. The communists and socialists use art as a cog in the machine of oppression so it's not surprise Mr. Fairey seems eager to let himself be exploited. This piece from Big Hollywood in 2009 about former NEA Director of Communications Yosi Sergant sheds a light on just how far this administration and its champions are willing to go to get what they want. When you can't sway the people with facts and mere words, use an eye-catching image and slogan.

It's no sin to express your beliefs in any form at your disposal. It's fine to share those beliefs with others. But there's a fine line between expression and exploitation. Mr. Fairey isn't a victim and I would guess his desire for fame and fortune slightly outweighs his need to 'speak for the common man'. This latest move shows desperation. He, like many adamant Obama supporters, have seen their star brighten and fizzle. This revisit of his Hope poster is a return to a time of prosperity for him, a time when he was a hero. Fairey is a well-known 'art vigilante' and I suppose he always will be in some circles, but the 15 minutes of fame may be over and not a moment too soon.

Peace, Love, Selfishness

This is the time of hipster discontent. They've gone to college, gotten an obscure degree, accrued a mountain of debt, can't find their dream job, and they're happiness is your responsibility. Didn't you know, if you are a responsible person, you're on the line to make everyone else happy? Occupy Wall Street seems to have no coherent message, but the one thing they all seem to believe is their failures in life are the fault of someone else. They have a hate-on for those who have made something of themselves. Plain and simple, they're jealous.

This movement is less about 'fairness' in business and more about the bruised feelings of generations of Americans who feel the world revolves around them. It must be quite a shock to wake up and realize the sun rises and sets on lots of people, not just yourself. OWS can be blamed on decades of selfishness and thinly veiled egotism hidden behind equality jargon. The caring, hard-working attitude that made America so exceptional is now pushed behind a tidal wave of "me, me, me!"

Being successful isn't easy. One of the keys to being a self-obsessed jerk is believing hard work is for suckers. Why run the race yourself when you can ride on someone's back? This is why systems like socialism fail, the workhorses get tired of working for everyone but themselves. No amount of sitting in a urine-stained park, spewing anti-capitalist hate, and using 'twinkle' fingers can change the fact that to get rewarded you have to first put fourth an effort. That's how the world works.

The other reason their effort will fail is when you place all your hopes on the backs of legislation and regulation, you give up any kind of control over your own life. To regulate business the way they want, to force companies to abide by their demands, would be to relinquish any promise of future successes. Capitalism is a vital link in the chain of our culture and economy. If that link is weakened or compromised, the rest of the chain is compromised. This is something the protesters don't seem to understand. It's tough to see the implications of your decisions when you believe all your ideas are perfect and you're above fault.

Our country needs to be healed, but not with a vegan smoothie and a drum circle. We need the solace of hard work and great achievement. We need the strength of knowing we've done something epic with our lives. As I've written before, we need to return to the exceptionalism that made us great. Whimpering on the street, being violently selfish; that's not exceptional. Exceptionalism isn't a costume you can wear, it isn't the size of your bank account (no matter how the riches are gained), exceptionalism is the strength of your spirit and the integrity of your soul. OWS needs to understand their future is in their own hands. If they want to be successful, it's up to them. They need to put down the signs and start at the start. That's the only sure-fire way of running a winning race.

10 Years

In August of 2001, I took a trip to New York City. I had just returned from two weeks in Italy and I was exhausted. I got one day of rest before I hopped back on a plane with my mother, aunt, cousin, and niece to visit the Big Apple. Before then, I'd only seen the city in passing, having flown in and out of Newark for Europe. We were visiting to take in a concert at Carnegie Hall, the music of 'Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?'.

We crammed ourselves in a small hotel room a few blocks from the Hall. We attended the concert, had a wonderful night, and set out the next morning to see the city. We visited Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty. FAO Schwarz was lots of fun and Tiffany's was beautiful (from the outside). We had a deli sandwich near Soho that was second to none and a cannoli in Little Italy. I loved Rockefeller Center and the breathtaking St. Patrick's Cathedral. Times Square was so bustling and bright and I finally got to see the Macy's. We hiked to the first bastion on the Brooklyn Bridge and back and as we stopped to rest near a hot dog cart, I saw the Twin Towers jutting into the sky and knew I had to get closer. I begged my party to walk just a bit further and reluctantly, they agreed. It was hot, our feet were sore, but we pressed on.

As we approached the center, my chin tilted higher and higher. Until then, I'd restrained myself from looking up. I thought it kept me from seeming like a tourist. But those towers were just so impossibly tall! My family was impressed too, but not as much as I was. I loved buildings and architecture. I stopped in between the towers and took a slow spin. I was dizzy with admiration. Paying no mind now to who saw me be a 'tourist', I got down on the stones of the Center and took a photo. The top 15 or so floors of both buildings were all that would fit in the frame.

We took the subway from the Center station and left the city behind. I remained amazed for some time, remembering the unearthly monoliths of glass and steel. On that morning, weeks later, I was at college walking back from my first class of the day when I saw one of the school maintenance workers stalking across the courtyard cursing. He wasn't normally the type to show such emotion. I asked him what was wrong and he told me. He yelled it, his fuming, trembling voice bouncing off of every surface. I stood there for a few moments, not knowing what to think. As I rushed to my dorm room, I shook my head. This couldn't be right. I remember standing in front of my television watching it all unfold. I had just been there. I had just seen those towers. I had just felt the cool stones on my tired back, surrounded by workers and other tourists. We were smiling.

September 11th, 2001 was a day that knows no equal. There will always be gaping hole in Manhattan, no matter how things may change. The skyline would never be the same; America would never be the same. I thank God for the opportunity I had to see the city as it should still be. I thank God for the lives that were spared, for the courage of America that day and the strength in the days afterward. I pray to God now to protect our nation from feeling that kind of pain again. God bless America and God keep us.