Cliven Bundy and his vitriolic mob of ammosexual domestic terrorists are entirely full of sh*t, and so are their latrines, according to GQ’s Zach Baron. Baron seized upon the opportunity to visit Bundy Ranch.
In an article published on Tuesday, Baron recounts his experiences in the oppressive heat at the Bundy Ranch.
It’s April in the Nevada desert, not even 11 A.M., and the heat is already physical, like something you could lean on. To those not yet accustomed to the republic, like myself, there’s a feeling of unreality to it. Even the view from up here, looking north: blue-green river shading to red-orange mesa shading to gray-red mountain, like a Looney Tunes cartoon.
From under the command tent at what some were calling Camp Tripwire and others Camp Liberty, maybe a mile down the road from the Bundy ranch—family home of Cliven Bundy, the rancher whose mostly successful rebellion against the United States government, eight days ago, has brought all of us here—you can see the whole of the camp: a dusty parking lot lined on either side with tents, boots outside in neat rows, and pickup trucks facing outward, for ease of escape. Before the republic—that’s what I’d been calling it in my head: the Independent Sovereign Republic of Cliven Bundy—this was a disused gravel pit. Now it’s a sandy hospitality suite for the men who’d come to fight. American flags flap noisily above folding tables stacked with rifles, banana clips of ammunition, oranges and Milk Duds, nail clippers and pens, lens-cleaning wipes and tortillas. One guy sits on a folding chair cleaning a .50-caliber anti-vehicle rifle, a gun about as long as I am. Another guy, named Cooper, is telling me about the latrines. They’d had them brought in a week ago, but now Cooper, as one of the guys charged with running Tripwire, has to figure out how to get them emptied.
“I will warn you,” Cooper says, when I ask where exactly I might find those latrines, “they’re kind of full.”
I wander out to them. The latrines are indeed kind of full. My eyes water with the smell of freedom.
Baron met a nice man by the name of “Bam Bam,” who he says looks like a “portly Kevin Dillon on acid.” Bam Bam is a writer — mostly Fourteenth Amendment stuff. “In the Fourteenth Amendment,” Bam Bam told Baron, “they changed two critical words’ definitions, ‘persons’ and ‘citizens,’ to include the definition ‘corporation.’ People don’t really realize the impact of that, but it made us corporations.”
Bam Bam offered his opinions on the Civil War, Abe Lincoln, and the Holocaust, as well:
“Abraham Lincoln, that tyrant-ass son of a bitch”—Bam Bam could go and go. The gist of it was that, like many who’d come, he felt betrayed by America. I watch a white paste develop between his lips. You saw it a lot out here in the desert. All this talking and not enough water. He tells me members of Israel’s Mossad were arrested in New York City on September 11, alludes darkly to conspiracies we don’t yet grasp. “And by the way, I have part Jew in me,” he says. “So this isn’t anti-Semitism.”
I sort of blink, I guess.
“I’m not saying the Holocaust never happened. Don’t get me, don’t beat me for that. But there’s a lot of exaggerations. It’s become an industry. Norm Finkelstein. Check out his work.”
Baron asked the portly not-racist, “Um, what do you guys think is gonna happen here?” to which Bam Bam replied, “I don’t think many of us are gonna get out of here alive.”
The latrines at the ranch were not the only thing that was full of shit: the entire revolution bore the odor of something left behind a herd of cattle with intestinal problems grazing on public land. Baron recounted how FOX News got the early jump on the story, portraying Bundy as just a kindly old man who was being oppressed by big gummint–how every instance of Bundy’s family being detained and even tazed because of their actions was filmed and used as propaganda to draw the nation’s militias and insane gun fetishists to the ranch.
So many people had been looking for a moment—any moment. And now, finally, here it was: An ordinary American was making a stand. Over a few trespassing cattle and a wacky species of turtle who just really happened to like sand—sure. But was that really so different from taxes and tea, or stamps, or whatever it was we rebelled over the first time around? What mattered was that people had shown up.
Cliven Bundy’s claim that he was somehow not responsible for the grazing fees every other rancher pays for the use of public land to feed their cattle is somehow unconstitutional resonated with the crackpot conspiracy theorists and anti-government (as long as Obama is in office) “freedom fighters,” who rushed to join his “revolution.”
Believing that the plan was to strip Bundy of his land to further Harry Reid’s collusion with the Chinese to build solar panels…or something…the “revolutionaries” pledged to lay down their lives to keep Bundy’s cattle on welfare.
Some denizens of the ranch even threatened a new civil war–and, of course, to do harm to Harry Reid for his imagined crimes. Bundy supporters terrorised local businesses and threatened police in the furtherance of their march to freedumb.
The Bundy “Revolution” still rages on in the minds of some die-hard hangers-on. Jerad and Amanda Miller, two former Bundy Ranch layabouts, recently went on a shooting spree that ended in three lives lost: two police officers in a Cici’s Pizza, and a “Good Guy With a Gun” who was unfortunate enough to believe the NRA’s claims that he was somehow the solution to a shooting. The couple declared that the revolution was ON, and even draped the adopted symbol of the Tea Party and other extremists, the Gadsden flag, over the bodies of the two officers they ambushed before stripping them of their weapons and ammunition.
The “Revolution” has sparked attacks on employees of the Bureau of Land Management, as well. In Utah, two people in a pickup truck accosted a BLM rancher with a gun and a sign that read, “You Need to Die.” Along the California/Nevada border, a “sovereign citizen” and “true believer” attacked a BLM agent and a California State Highway Patrol officer that had stumbled upon his illegal camp in a national forest.
It’s going to get worse before it gets better, and unfortunately it is likely that more lives will be lost to the cause of insanity. Unfortunately, our government has done nothing to stem this growing domestic terrorist cell–no longer concentrated at the Bundy Ranch, but home, growing, and recruiting.