By: Ted Nugent
I hammer away on my criminally abused laptop, improvising, adapting and overcoming the technical obstacles unique to the Alaskan wilderness in a sincere attempt to deliver my Nuge writings to my WND editors and readers.
I am here at Triple C Outfitters bear camp with sons Rocco, Toby and Fleetwood, on what can only be described as the ultimate father/son dream hunting adventure, chasing black bears, grizzly bears and brown bears with our bows and arrows. These bears have become so overpopulated that they have devastated the moose and caribou calf crop for far too many years, so we pursue mystical ursus rugsteaks as dedicated, responsible stewards and conservationists to once again bring balance to the land.
Say it: Rugsteaks. With much luck and clever strategizing, we shall hopefully harvest, i.e., “kill,” some beautiful, luxurious rugs and delicious, renewable steaks from these magnificent wildlife resources, all the while, along with tens of thousands of other visiting hunters and fishermen, dumping many billions of dollars into the Alaskan economy.
Isn’t it grand how We the People have developed and managed the greatest wildlife conservation success story all across America, ever in the history of mankind?
Of course it is, unless you are some politically correct, brainwashed zombie who believes salmon and bears have rights.
I offer you no hunches. I offer you no guesswork. I presume nothing.
What I am delivering here for your reading pleasure is real, honest-to-God, boots-on-the-ground, hands-on, eye-witness, bloody-arrow, real-world participation in the irrefutable science of sustain yield, habitat-carrying capacity, population dynamics, natural world of tooth, fang and claw, of which I am genuinely proud to be a part.
Life should not be a spectator sport. I carpe’ diem; I carpe’ bears.
They call this, and rightly so, The Last Frontier, and if you have never been to Alaska, you need to get here ASAP.
She is breathtaking on all fronts, eye candy supreme, and the spectacle of such well-managed wildlife will surely cleanse the soul.
And when it comes to rugged individualism, more often than not up here, that attribute is not only admirable, it often determines life and death. Mother Nature is a b-tch, but we still love her. And she lives big in Alaska.
But as rugged and tough as Alaskans can be, political correctness is a global scourge, and the curse is entrenched here like everywhere else. Maybe not as bad as California, Illinois, Massachusetts, Maryland, New York or New Jersey, but it has weaseled its way here, too. And it is not pretty.
The paperwork necessary to catch and eat one wild king salmon is mindboggling and so un-Alaskan. A commercial fisherman can net thousands of them. The sport fisherman brings roughly $2,000 to the state for every salmon we catch, while the massive commercial catch represents a few dollars per fish at best.
I wholeheartedly support both commercial fishing and sport fishing, but as you can see, the discrepancy in regulations tests the imagination.
Now, I’m not complaining, just probing a bit, always questioning and challenging all things status quo, as the Nugent boys are addicted to logic, self-evident truth and commonsense.
So I leave you with a glimpse into the very exciting world of big-game hunting in Alaska here at WND, as a reminder that the culture war rages on here, there, everywhere and beyond the brain-testing outrages of government gone mad with the IRS, VA, NSA, Fast and Furious, Obamacare, Fort Hood, releasing violent criminal illegal invaders, constant race baiting, educators that won’t educate, courts that don’t care about justice, jackbooted raids on family farms, ranches and legitimate businesses, and so much abuse of power and abandonment of goodwill, decency, commonsense, logic and trampling of the Constitution, life is what you make it, and we the people who remain tuned in and caring, surely have our work cut out for us.
So remain hands-on. Remain engaged. Continue our sincere experiment in self-government – more now than ever. Vigilance is job No. 1 for We the People of America.
I’m going now, as I have a date with a big ol’ bear. I will think of you all around the sacred spirit campfire tonight, feeling a little sorry for everyone who is not in an Alaskan bear camp, but confident that American blood brothers remain dedicated to take back our beloved country, one doubter, one neighborhood, one city, one state at a time. It can be done. It must be done.