Recently we celebrated Independence Day. I was distracted by other problems from doing my usual bit in honor of the day. (My sincere apologies, milady Liberty; I may yet get back to it, albeit late.) But as I was doing my annual bit of reflection on this land I love so much, London was bombed (again). And then Paretsky’s book dropped by for a visit. And I have to do this. I don’t have a choice.

It is a time of war, that is certain. It is also a time of national crisis, that much is also certain. But the two are only peripherally related. The war is on foreign soil, the crisis is on our own.

We are engaged in struggle over Liberty; whether in fact Liberty is worth defending, or whether we should give it up, piece by piece, We were hurt, and we lashed out; we acted then, through pain, in haste. But we no longer have that excuse.

The actions of our current leaders give voice to the question: Do we stil believe in Liberty? Do we still believe that everyone has the right to speak, the right to practice any religion, the right to think? Make no mistake about it, for that is the road we are currently traveling down.

Do I have the right to draw up detailed plans and schemes on how to kill a person, or a thousand people, so long as I not act upon it? Do I have the right to make such plans and schemes public, to talk about them with other people? I know there are those within the range of my keyboard who would say no, and would denounce me as a terrorist.

But before you slap the cuffs on me and cart me off to prison, realize that I have also described Tom Clancy, reading any one of his early books during a publicity tour. Or an unknown author, writing his first book and showing it to friends. Or a gamer, creating a world for himself and his friends to play in.

There’s a reason why the laws the designers of our freedom created punished actions, not thoughts. Because until we act, there is still time to recant, to repent, to call it off. Until the trigger is pulled, no harm has been done, no matter how detailed the plan. Oh, but these people are different, you cry. They won’t back down.

So what? Even if they are different, we aren’t. We’re still the same people who were committed to the idea that thoughts are free.

Or are we? Have we come so far from the time of tyranny that we no longer recognize its visage? Is it possible that we no longer recognize our sworn enemy? Have we really descended so far? As recently as 40 years ago, Walt Kelly’s possum could still recognize the enemy; Pogo shouted his warning then, and it still applies today: “We have met the enemy, and he is us!” We all want to remain secure and comfortable, and we don’t like to be reminded that Liberty is inconsistent with either condition, so we all bring tyranny to the party. This is why we need all the more to recognize its ascendence and resist it.

Let me state it bluntly. If you, Mr. Ashcroft, believe you are entitled to know the title of every book in my library, then you, sir, are my enemy. If you, Mr. President, believe that you are entitled to make people disappear into a fortress without trial, without their being able to face their accusers, then you, sir, are my enemy. If you, Mr. Chertoff, believe you are entilted to tap my phone simply because of where I worship, then you, sir, are my enemy. Liberty may scare you (I know she sure scares me at times) but that’s no reason to show her the door. Her absence scares me even more.

It’s popular among today’s pudding-headed pundits to pompously pronounce that anyone who dares utter words like the above hates America and all it stands for. Some even call it treason. Where’s your DD214, Ms Coulter? I signed up; I love this country, and the gift of Liberty given to me through it, so much that I gave up four years, and volunteered, if necessary, to give up the entirety of my life itself, in its defense. And to defend your right to call me names. I’ve already paid that much, and stand ready to pay more, if such is demanded of me. I’m not asking you to be quiet; I’m not even asking for thanks. Just reminding you of something you’ve probably forgotten while you recline in your padded chair thinking about who to smear next, and how much money you can make doing it.

Bold words? Perhaps. But freedom demands boldness; half-hearted attempts at it are doomed to failure. Barry Goldwater once said, “Extremism in the defense of Liberty is no vice.” You go, Barry. And, before anyone suggests it, the PATRIOT Act doesn’t qualify. It doesn’t defend Liberty; it gives it up without a struggle, hoping to obtain a little security in return.

Liberty costs. Freedom isn’t free. And neither Liberty nor Freedom are ever purchased. They are only rented, and the rental price is paid in blood; no other currency is valuable enough to make the exchange. If you want to live free, you have to know right up front that others will hate you for it, and you have to let them. That’s the key; if they are not free to work against you, then you are not truly free yourself.

The people of London know this. That’s why the Monday after the bombs went off, the subways and busses were filled. They refused to give in to the fear, and stood strong and tall. They refused to give in. You want to see heroes defending Liberty? They aren’t all on the battlefields, in precinct houses or fire stations; look in the subways of London. To stand up without a weapon and say “You can take my life, but not my freedom”, that, truly, is heroism.

Once a young firebrand, in the midst of a national crisis, took pen in hand and wrote these words (in “The American Crisis”): “These are the times that try men’s souls: The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of his country but he that stands it NOW, deserves the love and thanks of man and woman. Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have this consolation with us, that the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph. What we obtain, too cheap, we esteem too lightly: — ‘Tis dearness only that gives every thing its value.”

Young Tom Paine knew whereof he spoke. Today, there’s a panic mob running amok, and it wants to deprive us of some of our Liberty. (This is the way it happens; Liberty is never lost all at once, but rather dies the death of a thousand cuts, as piece by bloody piece she is sliced up and traded away.) To stand up to that mob will mean to risk losing something. But we owe it to those who have died renewing our lease on Liberty to take that risk. We have to stand beside Liberty during these hard times, so that she may stand beside us later, in our own time of peril.

We are, in the words of Lincoln, a nation dedicated to the proposition that all are created equal. And once again we are engaged in a battle to test whether such a nation can long endure. Many have paid with their blood to get us to this point; can anyone possibly think we owe them no less? We need to continue the job, no matter the price.

“…we here highly resolve these dead shall not have died in vain; that this nation shall have a new birth of freedom; and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.”