“The urge to save humanity is almost always a false front for the urge to rule.”  –– H.L. Mencken

The driving force behind the eco-radicals’ fierce efforts to strangle the free market with environmental regulations is their virulent hatred for a free, prosperous economy. Yet behind this hatred is an even deeper one. To understand why they try to wreck our economy, you have to grasp the shocking fact that many eco-radicals hate the human race and Western civilization. They hate the fact that you, your family, your friends, and millions of other human beings live and prosper on this planet.

Most of us are naive about the environmental movement. We believe that when eco-radicals say we should “protect the environment,” they mean we should protect it for people. What they really mean is that we should protect the environment against people. People are the enemy. Rats, swamps, and old-growth forests must be protected against you, your family, and the rest of the human race.

To confirm this, just watch nature programs on public television. In every program I’ve seen, human beings are depicted as the enemy. These programs portray humans as vicious, violent destroyers of birds, wildlife, forests, rivers, and oceans. Nature is seen as “pure,” “fragile,” and “innocent” (including child-eating hyenas and alligators). Environmentalists or their sympathizers create these programs, so the programs reflect the environmental movement’s deepest attitudes toward the human race.

If environmental groups valued human life, they wouldn’t try to cut our oil supplies by banning drilling in arctic wastelands or off the coast of Florida and California. They wouldn’t ban the hunting of alligators that kill children. They wouldn’t file lawsuits against housing developments that give people shelter, to protect kangaroo rats.

They wouldn’t have lobbied Congress to ban DDT, the pesticide that saved the lives of millions of people worldwide from malaria. They wouldn’t ban logging in northwest forests to protect spotted owls, a ban that destroyed over 30,000 logging and sawmill workers’ jobs.

Here’s what one environmentalist had to say about loggers losing their jobs:

“Loggers losing their jobs because of Spotted Owl legislation is, in my eyes, no different than people being out of work after the furnaces of Dachau shut down.”

In other words, forcing owls to move to another forest because you cut down trees they nest in is just as evil as murdering six million people in gas chambers. Owls are as important as six million human lives. If loggers unintentionally kill a few owls, they’re as evil as the murderers who ran the Nazi gas chambers. Therefore, we should have no sympathy for loggers who lost their jobs. Here’s another quote:

“Somewhere along the line . . . we quit the contract and became a cancer. We have become a plague upon ourselves and upon the Earth . . . Until such time as Homo sapiens should decide to rejoin nature, some of us can only hope for the right virus to come along[emphasis added].”

In other words, this eco-radical wishes the human race to die out—for your family, your children, your friends to die, so that the “sacred” Earth will be free of the “plague” of human beings.

These are quotes by radical environmentalists. These quotes eloquently reveal the eco-radicals’ utter hatred and contempt for the human race, and for human life and progress on this Earth. Are these the kind of sick people that we, and State and Congressional legislators should be listening to?

I knew that the environmental movement values swamps and kangaroo rats over human life, but I didn’t realize how sick this movement really is until I read a shocking article in the New York Times. It seems that in Brazil, “endangered-species” regulations forbid hunting “protected” wildlife. This ban includes the dreaded jacaré and caiman, two Brazilian alligator species.

The jacaré is a vicious, prehistoric, man and child-eating monster who inhabits the Amazon River Basin. In the high-water season, alligators infest the riverbanks near where Mrs. Ramos lives. One evening in August, an eighteen-foot jacaré emerged from the lagoon to forage for food in waters flowing around the stilts of her house. The New York Times article described what happened to Mrs. Ramos’s son:

“Gilson (Mrs. Ramos’s 17-year-old son) went down to tie up his canoe,” said Sidecley Conceicão Andrade, a barefoot, 12-year-old neighbor. “In the dark, he thought he grabbed the canoe, but it was the jacaré’s tail. It took him away and ate him up.”

Can you imagine the horror of being eaten alive by an alligator? Can you imagine the nightmares and searing pain Mrs. Ramos must feel when she thinks of her son? Well, Brazil’s environmental regulations killed her son and hundreds of other innocent victims of alligator attacks.

Imagine that you lived in Florida and were the parents of a beautiful little girl. How would you feel if an alligator protected by the Endangered Species Act snatched your daughter and ate her alive? How would you like hearing your little girl crying for her mommy or daddy while the alligator ripped her to pieces? I apologize for describing such a horror in detail, but I want to bring home the real meaning of environmental laws like the Endangered Species Act. If you want to picture the essence of many eco-radicals’ contempt for human life, just remember what the jacaré did to Mrs. Ramos’s son.

Radical environmentalism and its strangling regulations threatens our health and our lives. But environmentalists can hurt us only because most of us have fallen for their propaganda. The problem is that we’re a good-natured, but sometimes naive people. We give everyone the benefit of the doubt, including environmentalists. We think eco-radicals are normal human beings like we are, and couldn’t possibly mean what they say. That’s what the world thought about Hitler—people didn’t believe what he said in his book, “Mein Kampf.” But we can’t be naive any longer.

We have to judge eco-radicals by their words, values, and actions, and recognize that the agenda of too many environmentalists is evil. The only way to stop them is to de-fang them, to take away their power, to repeal most environmental regulations and abolish the Environmental Protection Agency.

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Benny Doland was tall and skinny, about 30 years old. He had small, narrow eyes, a long nose, and heavy, wet lips. He had a high-pitched voice and his hands moved erratically as he talked.

He was talking to Jimmy, his partner. Jimmy Greeves was short, barrel-chested, around 27 years old. He had cold, brutal eyes, a small nose, and a thin, tight mouth. He looked at Benny Doland with contempt. “Yeah,” he said, “the little wifey was sure pretty, wasn’t she Benny? I sure would like a piece of that.”

Benny looked at his partner with fear. He had seen that look on Jimmy’s face before, and he remembered what happened the last time they hit a house. Jimmy had raped and strangled the pretty young wife in that house, and left her for dead on her living room floor. Jimmy Greeves had raped her five times. He had spent so much time raping the girl, that they didn’t search the house to find the cash and jewelry. They left empty-handed. Benny didn’t want that to happen again.

“Jimmy,” he said, “remember what happened the last time? Please, Jimmy, let’s keep our minds on robbing the place, not the girl. O.K?”

Jimmy looked up at his partner with a sneer. “You just case the joint and find the loot in the house, Benny. I’ll take care of the pretty little wife.” Jimmy looked at the cold eyes of his partner and didn’t say anything.

Then Benny said, “Jimmy, what if they have a gun in the house? What if the husband has a rack of guns and his wife knows how to use them? I don’t want to get killed just trying to rob a house.”

Jimmy Greeves looked at Benny with contempt. “You idiot, don’t you read the newspapers? Our friends in the State legislature just passed a gun-control law that forced all gun owners to hand in their guns to the cops. Ain’t that grand? We always used to worry about getting shot when we hit a house. Now, we don’t have no more worries. If I could, I would kiss the moron politicians who passed the gun-control laws. They give guys like us a free ride. All we have to do is break into the house, and the house and pretty little wife is ours for the taking.”

Benny’s wet lips smiled at the thought. “Yeah,” he said, “I forgot about that. You’re right. They just passed that law. And all the obedient law-abiding citizens in this town turned in their guns. Do you believe that? I guess they think they don’t have to worry about guys like us any more. I guess they think the cops will protect them. Ain’t that a laugh, Jimmy? Yeah, Jimmy, let’s hit that house tomorrow night. Remember, we saw the husband with his packed bags riding off to the airport yesterday. I guess he’s going on a business trip. The wifey will be all alone.”

Jenny Hanson loved her house, her husband, and her two little daughters. She was 25 years old, with beautiful blue eyes, a delicate nose, and a wide, sensuous mouth. Her dark, lustrous hair flowed over lovely shoulders. She had a lush, curvy body that she tried to hide under sweatshirts and baggy jeans.

But Jenny Hanson also had an inner core of steel. She was raised as an army brat. Her father was a Marine Corp colonel who loved his daughter to distraction. Because he loved her so much, because he saw how beautiful she was, and because he knew how men were, he taught his daughter how to use guns from an early age. Jenny Hanson was a deadly shot.

Jenny had a close friend growing up, Betty Draper. One night, when they were teens, she witnessed her friend Betty being raped by a gang of drunk teenagers. Jenny had managed to escape before the gang could get her, too. That terrible night was etched in her brain, in her heart. Later, her friend Betty had committed suicide.

Sweet, lovely Jenny therefore kept several loaded pistols in her house. She kept them hidden and locked up, so her daughters could never find them or reach them. When the State legislators passed the gun-confiscation laws, her father had called her from his base in Colorado. He told her, “Honey, the hell with those damn politicians. The government in Australia just confiscated all handguns. Guess what? Rapes, robberies, and murders are way up there. What else could you expect? Jenny, I forbid you from handing in your guns. Do you hear?”

Jenny said, with love in her voice, “I know, my wonderful, protecting Daddy. You didn’t have to tell me that. Do you think I would give up my guns because some gun-control morons want to take away my right to defend myself and my children? May those bastards be damned for disarming us. Especially for disarming the women in this town. Now every woman on my block is threatened by rape or robbery because they can’t defend themselves with a gun. Don’t worry, Dad, I have my revolver armed and loaded. Good-night, Daddy.”

Her father, on the other end of the line, was proud of his daughter. “O.K. sweetheart, I was just checking. You know how I am. Good night, and call me if you need anything.”

“O.K, Dad,” Jenny said.

At 9:15 p.m. the next evening, Benny Doland and Jimmy Greeves broke a back window on Jenny’s house. What they didn’t know was that Jenny had a good alarm system. She was upstairs in Sara and Melissa’s bedroom, reading to them from their favorite book. When she heard the alarm go off, she got up very slowly from the bed. Sara and Melissa looked up at their mother with fear.

“What is that noise, Mommy?” Melissa said. Jenny looked down calmly at her daughters and said, “Sara, Melissa, I want you both to stay in your bed and be very quiet. I have to see where that noise is coming from. It’s very important that you be quiet so I can hear the noise. O.K, darlings? Do you promise?”

Sara and Melissa both nodded their little heads yes and watched as their mother walked slowly out the bedroom door. They heard the outside key to their door lock, something their mommy had never done before.

Jenny walked to the master bedroom, went into the closet, opened a stepladder, then took away some big boxes on the top shelf. Behind the boxes, was a small locked box. She took out a special key, opened the box, and removed the fully loaded revolver.

She calmly walked out of the master bedroom and down the carpeted stairway to the big living room. She heard the voices of two men whispering to each other. She heard drawers being opened, cabinet glass being smashed, and she heard curses too. She knew the men would find nothing. All their valuables were hidden in a secret safe under the floor in the master bedroom. The men’s voices were angry, she knew, because they had found nothing.

Jenny switched on the light to the living room and came down the stairs. The two thieves, startled by the light, turned around and saw this beautiful woman slowly, calmly walking down the stairs towards them. What astounded them most was that the girl seemed to be totally unafraid. She held her right hand behind her back as she walked towards them.

“Get out of this house right now,” Jenny said. She faced the two men with utter calm. “There are no valuables here,” she said. “They are all in our bank vault. You will find nothing, here. If you leave now, I won’t call the police.”

Jimmy Greeves was astounded. This ripe plum was giving them orders. He was also angry. He said, “You bitch. Where’s the cash? Where’s the jewels? Don’t give me that crap about the bank vault. We saw you wearing those expensive jewels. We tailed you.”

“I told you there is nothing here.” Jenny said. “Those jewels are fake. There isn’t more than $100 cash in the house. Now get out, or I will call the police.”

Jimmy Greeves’s eyes turned cold. He took in every curve of her body, lusting for her. He wanted her even more for being so arrogant. “O.K., just for being nasty to us, me and Benny are going to have some fun with you. You won’t mind, will you, bitch? We know you pretty little housewives always lust for bad guys like us. You asked for it, so now you’re going to get it.”

Jenny was seeing her friend Betty after she was raped and beaten. She was remembering the phone call Betty’s mother made to her six months later, telling her that Betty had committed suicide. Jenny looked at the short, ugly thug approaching her and felt the steel rising in her.

She took the revolver from behind her back and pointed it straight at Jimmy Greeves’s chest. The thug’s eyes opened wide with shock as he saw the pistol come up. She fired twice, point-blank, and Jimmy Greeves flew backwards from the impact of the bullets. He lay dead on the floor in front of Benny Doland, whose startled eyes were wide open. Benny looked down at his dead partner, then looked at the barrel of the smoking revolver in Jenny’s hand. What scared him most was the calm, merciless look on Jenny’s face. He panicked, and ran screaming out the front door. Jenny watched him run with a grim smile of satisfaction.

When the police arrived, they arrested Jenny for unlawful possession of a handgun.

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