My Mt. Rushmore of Punch-up Men

The guys on Mount Rushmore represent power, not principle. Fuck those guys. I’m carving my own Mt. Rushmore, out of the men who always did what was right, no matter the cost.

My Mt. Rushmore of Punch-up Men

Washington enslaved hundreds while preaching liberty. Jefferson wrote that all men are created equal, then kept people in chains. Lincoln saved the Union, but only when forced by war and politics to free the enslaved. And Roosevelt carved empire out of wilderness and called it destiny. They’re the architects of an American myth built on conquest, hypocrisy, and selective freedom. Their greatness was measured by what they controlled, not what they challenged. My Mt. Rushmore will be built of men of principle. Men who had a backbone and respected all human life.

Roy Benavidez: The Man Who Refused to Die

In Vietnam, Sergeant Roy Benavidez answered a call no sane man would. A twelve-man Special Forces team was pinned down, surrounded by a thousand enemy troops. Benavidez grabbed a knife, jumped on a helicopter, and dropped into the hellfire with nothing but his will. For six hours he dragged the wounded, threw grenades, called in airstrikes, and was shot, stabbed, and clubbed with a rifle butt — yet kept fighting. When he finally collapsed, medics zipped him in a body bag. He spat in their faces to let them know he wasn’t done yet.
He received the Medal of Honor from Reagan, who said the story was “almost beyond belief.”

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Roy Benavidez didn’t survive Vietnam, Vietnam survived him.

Mike Vining: The Quiet God of Controlled Chaos

If America ever produced a human embodiment of the word professional, it’s Mike Vining. Original Delta Force operator. EOD tech. Grenadier in the 1st Cavalry in Vietnam. He spent his career where explosions and impossibilities met; neutralizing bombs, leading covert missions, and turning chaos into choreography. Vining was the man called in when everyone else backed off. When you saw those glasses coming you ran the other fucking way.
His legend runs silent: two wars, thirty-three years, and a record of perfection in jobs that don’t allow mistakes. He’s the archetype of the quiet operator: no politics, no bravado, just competence sharpened to a razor’s edge.

Mike Vining never talked about what he did, he just did it perfectly, every time.

Robert Smalls: The Man Who Stole a Warship and His Freedom

Born enslaved in South Carolina, Robert Smalls wasn’t content to wait for liberation — he engineered it. At twenty-three, he hijacked the Confederate transport ship Planter, disguised himself as the captain, and sailed his family and crew past every rebel gun in Charleston Harbor. When the sun came up, Smalls surrendered the ship — and its artillery, maps, and codes — to the Union Navy. Lincoln called it one of the most daring acts of the Civil War.
Smalls went on to captain that same ship for the Union, then served five terms in Congress, built South Carolina’s first public-school system, and bought the house where he’d once been enslaved. He didn’t wait for history to change — he commandeered it.

Robert Smalls didn’t just escape slavery, he hijacked it and drove it straight into freedom.

John Brown: The Prophet With a Rifle

John Brown wasn’t a man of half-measures. He looked at slavery and saw evil; not metaphorical, not abstract, but evil that could only be drowned out by action. In 1859, he and twenty-one followers stormed the federal armory at Harpers Ferry, intent on sparking a nationwide slave rebellion. The plan failed militarily but detonated morally. His raid terrified the South, electrified the North, and made the Civil War inevitable.
When Brown was captured, he told the court that “the crimes of this guilty land will never be purged but with blood.” Then he walked calmly to the gallows — beard, Bible, and conviction intact.

John Brown didn’t just die for a cause, he forced the nation to face one.

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