Because I know you love videos, my little kiddies...
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
The "WOW, I COULDA HAD A V-8" Moment
One of my favorite fellow bloggers is William Jacobson (Cornell Law Professor), at Legal Insurrection. Recently, he wrote that he had heard from an old friend of his, a main stream liberal democrat, who called to say that Jacobson was right about Obama, after all. He writes:
In the past my friend very much enjoyed getting me agitated by frequently mentioning the latest Frank Rich or Maureen Dowd column about the evil of Sarah Palin. At his age, getting me aggravated was pretty much his main form of entertainment.
In the months after the election the relationship was somewhat strained. There were certain things we just didn't talk about, although he would poke me in the political eye from time to time.
I haven't spoken to my friend in many months, probably since the fall or summer. So I was pleased when his name showed up as an incoming call on my cell phone, although I wondered how we would dance around the subject of Him.
The first sentence out of his mouth was, "Let's get it out of the way, you were right about Obama."
I have a few friends who, along with me, recognized the Obamination for what he was and what he represented long before the '08 election. But, most of the folks I know, including most family members and many friends (and acquaintances who've since managed to keep a safe distance from me: "Don't stand too close to a Constitutionalist Republican, else you get mistaken for a racist!"), subscribed to the hope-n-changery rhetoric.
So, this report gave me some hope that people I know might actually someday, likewise, change their hideously abrasive tune. I'm not so big on having someone tell me I was right...hell, that's like saying that water is wet. I just hope that some of the "easily duped" I care for, can one day extricate themselves from the camps of "those who hate America."
On a similar note, I read a concisely accurate comment on another blog recently. Obama may still have his supporters, and those people seem to have difficulty with a rational discussion over the merits of his intentions. While I can sling descriptors like SOCIALIST at him all day long, those folks won't bat an eye. But, ask yourself this question...
Q: If Obama (or those people who he answers to) wished to sabotage America's economy, abandon national security, and destroy the country, is there anything that he (or they) would do different, from what they have done?
A: No.
The words that I write here are all in the hopes that the people I love will soon make amends for the mistake they saddled us all with, back in November 2008. The phone call would be nice, but I don't need that. I just hope that the enemies of my country soon find out that fewer and fewer of those people can be counted in their camp.
In the past my friend very much enjoyed getting me agitated by frequently mentioning the latest Frank Rich or Maureen Dowd column about the evil of Sarah Palin. At his age, getting me aggravated was pretty much his main form of entertainment.
In the months after the election the relationship was somewhat strained. There were certain things we just didn't talk about, although he would poke me in the political eye from time to time.
I haven't spoken to my friend in many months, probably since the fall or summer. So I was pleased when his name showed up as an incoming call on my cell phone, although I wondered how we would dance around the subject of Him.
The first sentence out of his mouth was, "Let's get it out of the way, you were right about Obama."
I have a few friends who, along with me, recognized the Obamination for what he was and what he represented long before the '08 election. But, most of the folks I know, including most family members and many friends (and acquaintances who've since managed to keep a safe distance from me: "Don't stand too close to a Constitutionalist Republican, else you get mistaken for a racist!"), subscribed to the hope-n-changery rhetoric.
So, this report gave me some hope that people I know might actually someday, likewise, change their hideously abrasive tune. I'm not so big on having someone tell me I was right...hell, that's like saying that water is wet. I just hope that some of the "easily duped" I care for, can one day extricate themselves from the camps of "those who hate America."
On a similar note, I read a concisely accurate comment on another blog recently. Obama may still have his supporters, and those people seem to have difficulty with a rational discussion over the merits of his intentions. While I can sling descriptors like SOCIALIST at him all day long, those folks won't bat an eye. But, ask yourself this question...
Q: If Obama (or those people who he answers to) wished to sabotage America's economy, abandon national security, and destroy the country, is there anything that he (or they) would do different, from what they have done?
A: No.
The words that I write here are all in the hopes that the people I love will soon make amends for the mistake they saddled us all with, back in November 2008. The phone call would be nice, but I don't need that. I just hope that the enemies of my country soon find out that fewer and fewer of those people can be counted in their camp.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Obamacare: A Fairy Tale (cross-posted)
I never re-post essays that I find in their entirety, but I'm going to this time, so you'll not have to actually go elsewhere to enjoy all its greatness. Note: the links in the original did not play along as expected, so you will have to visit there to access those goodies, my little limp-wristed deviants. Emphasis mine...
Obamacare: A Fairy Tale- or, How The Gay Community Lost Its Magic Power
by Charles Winecoff at Big Government dot Com
Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away – called New York City – there was a special place where fairies could go when they weren’t feeling well. It was known as the Gay Men’s Health Project. The friendly bears and slender youths who ran this magical dispensary helped unlucky fairies mend their wings and wee-wees so they could get back to working through their issues and flit off to the nearest after-hours disco, bath house, abandoned truck or dilapidated pier.
Because they knew the empire wasn’t going to do it for them, the handsome lords and lads of Greenwich Village worked in unison to take care of their own kind. An invisible tribe that blended easily into the population at large, they understood that the heterosexist king’s medicine men were not attuned to their unique needs; they did not want uncaring jesters from the court making choices about their bodies. So the fairies raised their voices as loud as they could to make sure they had access to like-minded, sympathetic healers who would not make them feel ashamed of their behavior (and would get them back on the dance floor ASAP).
Then, in the year of eight tens and two, the fairies began to wither by the thousands and fall from the sky. No one knew why. So those who were still of able body came together again to build a new safe haven specifically for their sick brothers: a non-profit service organization called the Gay Men’s Health Crisis. Thanks to the actions and determination of these bold heroes, GMHC succeeded in providing legal aid, counseling, and even some housing to 15,000 fellows affected by HIV and AIDS.
But the elders, led by the prophet Larry Kramer, soon became weary of doing all the work themselves. They wanted support from the royal court. So they amassed an army specifically to agitate and create awareness of the needs of their ailing brethren. They called their legion of troops ACT UP, and their motto was SILENCE = DEATH.
The warrior fairies did not trust the king and queen, who hailed from a make-believe place called Hollywood. Even though there were many fairies in Hollywood, the elders imagined that the king, whose name was marked by a malevolent ”R,” would round up their infected friends and lock them in concentration camps. The fairies only trusted royals whose names boasted a benevolent ”D.”
So fearing the worst, they paid no heed to the warnings of their own shamans. Instead, they fought to protect their underground turf from the imaginary menace of the “R” invaders by keeping their fairy-only, non-reproductive recreation centers open. Thousands more fairies fell from the sky.
Time passed. Powerful potions were eventually conjured up to keep infected fairies healthy and alive. Kings began to grant them audiences, and the peasantry as a whole became more accepting of their existence, and appreciative of their hard history. The fairies were celebrated and honored for the injustices they endured. The peasantry took extra care to be more tolerant of fairy feelings.
But the fairies couldn’t reciprocate. They didn’t know how to trust or to let down their guard. They had become addicted to attention, self-pity, and anger.
When the two mighty towers were destroyed by flying far-right religious trolls, who had a blood-soaked and homophobic history, the new king took fierce action to prevent any further attacks. But because this king also sported an “R’ after his name (and wore a cowboy hat), the fairies felt it was against their religion (D-ism) to support his efforts.
Instead, they mocked him, accused him of plotting a sinister master plan, and prayed for his assassination. They stood in solidarity with anyone who railed against the “R”-lettered king. And they remained willfully ignorant of the plight of their less fortunate fellow fairies in far-away lands, who were still being brutalized by evil trolls. They were no longer capable of recognizing an enemy.
Domestic fairies enjoyed many fetishes, but none was so great as their fetish for the letter “D.” They became isolated from the rest of their countrymen within their own affluent domain, commonly referred to as “the gay ghetto.” They became obsessed with how they were portrayed in minstrel shows, and they presented golden statuettes to any princess who extolled their virtues in the Land of Make Believe. They became lazy and self-satisfied, but annoyed that some people still lived by ancient beliefs and rules that did not include them. They demanded that all beliefs and customs that did not take them into consideration be “reformed” (whether or not they really wanted anything to do with those beliefs).
Finally, in the year twenty and nine, a Savior arrived who was similar to the trolls in color and name, but who wore a holy letter “D.” He promised to be the fairies’ best friend. He promised to ban the law of the land that prevented them from joining in blessed unions like the rest of the peasantry. He also vowed to allow the fairies to serve, in all their proud flamboyance, in His armed forces.
But the King’s seductive words proved meaningless. He was more concerned with soothing the savage trolls with His charm - to what end, no one was sure – while dreaming up ways to siphon the peasants’ money.
To that end, the King passed a grand law that, He declared, would improve the physical and financial health of every single person under the crown, including the fairies. But the peasant majority was suspicious of the King’s intent, and challenged Him, loudly and publicly. This made the King frown, and totally threw Him off his game.
The King wasn’t interested in what the peasants wanted. He believed He was the smartest man in the world. So He just scowled, and lectured, and got His way. His royal henchmen laughed in the faces of the good, hard-working peasants.
The fairies, who were once the most boisterous rebels in all the land, didn’t rush to the peasants’ defense. They made not even a peep. Transfixed by the King’s big “D,” their fairy spirit had been paralyzed. Polarized by pride (and prejudice), they were no longer able to question authority - and certainly not the motives of their smiling Messiah.
It didn’t matter that many of the witch doctors who had long toiled to eradicate AIDS doubted that the King’s costly law would actually be beneficial to ailing fairies, leaving them instead with fewer, less potent spells.
It didn’t matter that nowhere in the final law passed by the all the King’s men were the fairies’ needs – medical or legal - even mentioned. Those crucial words had vanished, quietly replaced by a pricey call for abstinence, something the fairies had long shunned.
It didn’t matter that a provision giving the loving partners of fairies the same tax exclusion as peasant spouses on the value of employer-provided health benefits was also removed. It didn’t matter that the King’s law (which He called “my bill”) made it more advantageous for fairies to remain unmarried.
It didn’t matter that a prosperous mouthpiece for the fairies openly announced his disappointment in the decree, or that a spokesperson for the King declined to comment.
It didn’t matter that one of the King’s henchmen declared that, more important than healing fairies’ bodies, the new law would fix the “mal-distribution” of wealth among the peasantry. Nor did it matter that another apple-polisher let it slip that the underlying goal was “to control the people.”
And it didn’t matter that the UN, which was teeming with fairy-hating trolls, hailed the King’s bill as a demigodsend.
The only thing that mattered to the fairies was that their King had a “D” after his name. In their hard-won comfort, they had forgotten how to fight. They waved away any inconvenient reality that didn’t glorify the mythical icon. Their own tough, triumphant past no longer moved them. A pampered new generation of fairies mistook ”equality” for “freedom,” and had no knowledge of the fickle nature of politics or safety. They believed Lady Gaga was forever.
SILENCE now equalled COMPLICITY.
And so they marched in unison again. Only this time, it wasn’t a movement born of urgency, compassion, or even thought. It was the catatonic death march of the true believer. The fairies had turned into the fanatics they once abhorred. And that is how they gave up their magic power and lost their ability to soar.
Yes, Virginia, there is an end to this story. We just don’t know exactly what it is yet.
I read somewhere else that everything the Obamessiah has ever said should come with an expiration date. We knew how threatening this guy was to the concept of Liberty, and recognized his rhetoric as such. Those in the middle were swayed by the smooth reading of a teleprompter, but recently seem to be coming out of their daze.
You fruitcakes thought you had Slick-Willie back on the throne, but it looks like Barry the Muslim has as little regard for you as I do.
Feeling jilted, yet?
Obamacare: A Fairy Tale- or, How The Gay Community Lost Its Magic Power
by Charles Winecoff at Big Government dot Com
Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away – called New York City – there was a special place where fairies could go when they weren’t feeling well. It was known as the Gay Men’s Health Project. The friendly bears and slender youths who ran this magical dispensary helped unlucky fairies mend their wings and wee-wees so they could get back to working through their issues and flit off to the nearest after-hours disco, bath house, abandoned truck or dilapidated pier.
Because they knew the empire wasn’t going to do it for them, the handsome lords and lads of Greenwich Village worked in unison to take care of their own kind. An invisible tribe that blended easily into the population at large, they understood that the heterosexist king’s medicine men were not attuned to their unique needs; they did not want uncaring jesters from the court making choices about their bodies. So the fairies raised their voices as loud as they could to make sure they had access to like-minded, sympathetic healers who would not make them feel ashamed of their behavior (and would get them back on the dance floor ASAP).
Then, in the year of eight tens and two, the fairies began to wither by the thousands and fall from the sky. No one knew why. So those who were still of able body came together again to build a new safe haven specifically for their sick brothers: a non-profit service organization called the Gay Men’s Health Crisis. Thanks to the actions and determination of these bold heroes, GMHC succeeded in providing legal aid, counseling, and even some housing to 15,000 fellows affected by HIV and AIDS.
But the elders, led by the prophet Larry Kramer, soon became weary of doing all the work themselves. They wanted support from the royal court. So they amassed an army specifically to agitate and create awareness of the needs of their ailing brethren. They called their legion of troops ACT UP, and their motto was SILENCE = DEATH.
The warrior fairies did not trust the king and queen, who hailed from a make-believe place called Hollywood. Even though there were many fairies in Hollywood, the elders imagined that the king, whose name was marked by a malevolent ”R,” would round up their infected friends and lock them in concentration camps. The fairies only trusted royals whose names boasted a benevolent ”D.”
So fearing the worst, they paid no heed to the warnings of their own shamans. Instead, they fought to protect their underground turf from the imaginary menace of the “R” invaders by keeping their fairy-only, non-reproductive recreation centers open. Thousands more fairies fell from the sky.
Time passed. Powerful potions were eventually conjured up to keep infected fairies healthy and alive. Kings began to grant them audiences, and the peasantry as a whole became more accepting of their existence, and appreciative of their hard history. The fairies were celebrated and honored for the injustices they endured. The peasantry took extra care to be more tolerant of fairy feelings.
But the fairies couldn’t reciprocate. They didn’t know how to trust or to let down their guard. They had become addicted to attention, self-pity, and anger.
When the two mighty towers were destroyed by flying far-right religious trolls, who had a blood-soaked and homophobic history, the new king took fierce action to prevent any further attacks. But because this king also sported an “R’ after his name (and wore a cowboy hat), the fairies felt it was against their religion (D-ism) to support his efforts.
Instead, they mocked him, accused him of plotting a sinister master plan, and prayed for his assassination. They stood in solidarity with anyone who railed against the “R”-lettered king. And they remained willfully ignorant of the plight of their less fortunate fellow fairies in far-away lands, who were still being brutalized by evil trolls. They were no longer capable of recognizing an enemy.
Domestic fairies enjoyed many fetishes, but none was so great as their fetish for the letter “D.” They became isolated from the rest of their countrymen within their own affluent domain, commonly referred to as “the gay ghetto.” They became obsessed with how they were portrayed in minstrel shows, and they presented golden statuettes to any princess who extolled their virtues in the Land of Make Believe. They became lazy and self-satisfied, but annoyed that some people still lived by ancient beliefs and rules that did not include them. They demanded that all beliefs and customs that did not take them into consideration be “reformed” (whether or not they really wanted anything to do with those beliefs).
Finally, in the year twenty and nine, a Savior arrived who was similar to the trolls in color and name, but who wore a holy letter “D.” He promised to be the fairies’ best friend. He promised to ban the law of the land that prevented them from joining in blessed unions like the rest of the peasantry. He also vowed to allow the fairies to serve, in all their proud flamboyance, in His armed forces.
But the King’s seductive words proved meaningless. He was more concerned with soothing the savage trolls with His charm - to what end, no one was sure – while dreaming up ways to siphon the peasants’ money.
To that end, the King passed a grand law that, He declared, would improve the physical and financial health of every single person under the crown, including the fairies. But the peasant majority was suspicious of the King’s intent, and challenged Him, loudly and publicly. This made the King frown, and totally threw Him off his game.
The King wasn’t interested in what the peasants wanted. He believed He was the smartest man in the world. So He just scowled, and lectured, and got His way. His royal henchmen laughed in the faces of the good, hard-working peasants.
The fairies, who were once the most boisterous rebels in all the land, didn’t rush to the peasants’ defense. They made not even a peep. Transfixed by the King’s big “D,” their fairy spirit had been paralyzed. Polarized by pride (and prejudice), they were no longer able to question authority - and certainly not the motives of their smiling Messiah.
It didn’t matter that many of the witch doctors who had long toiled to eradicate AIDS doubted that the King’s costly law would actually be beneficial to ailing fairies, leaving them instead with fewer, less potent spells.
It didn’t matter that nowhere in the final law passed by the all the King’s men were the fairies’ needs – medical or legal - even mentioned. Those crucial words had vanished, quietly replaced by a pricey call for abstinence, something the fairies had long shunned.
It didn’t matter that a provision giving the loving partners of fairies the same tax exclusion as peasant spouses on the value of employer-provided health benefits was also removed. It didn’t matter that the King’s law (which He called “my bill”) made it more advantageous for fairies to remain unmarried.
It didn’t matter that a prosperous mouthpiece for the fairies openly announced his disappointment in the decree, or that a spokesperson for the King declined to comment.
It didn’t matter that one of the King’s henchmen declared that, more important than healing fairies’ bodies, the new law would fix the “mal-distribution” of wealth among the peasantry. Nor did it matter that another apple-polisher let it slip that the underlying goal was “to control the people.”
And it didn’t matter that the UN, which was teeming with fairy-hating trolls, hailed the King’s bill as a demigodsend.
The only thing that mattered to the fairies was that their King had a “D” after his name. In their hard-won comfort, they had forgotten how to fight. They waved away any inconvenient reality that didn’t glorify the mythical icon. Their own tough, triumphant past no longer moved them. A pampered new generation of fairies mistook ”equality” for “freedom,” and had no knowledge of the fickle nature of politics or safety. They believed Lady Gaga was forever.
SILENCE now equalled COMPLICITY.
And so they marched in unison again. Only this time, it wasn’t a movement born of urgency, compassion, or even thought. It was the catatonic death march of the true believer. The fairies had turned into the fanatics they once abhorred. And that is how they gave up their magic power and lost their ability to soar.
Yes, Virginia, there is an end to this story. We just don’t know exactly what it is yet.
I read somewhere else that everything the Obamessiah has ever said should come with an expiration date. We knew how threatening this guy was to the concept of Liberty, and recognized his rhetoric as such. Those in the middle were swayed by the smooth reading of a teleprompter, but recently seem to be coming out of their daze.
You fruitcakes thought you had Slick-Willie back on the throne, but it looks like Barry the Muslim has as little regard for you as I do.
Feeling jilted, yet?
Monday, March 29, 2010
Secret FBI Raids
"Allegedly selling pipe-bombs" sounds awfully dubious to me.
If you're in the business of making pipe bombs, wouldn't they be more valuable toward whatever nefarious purpose you had schemed, than whatever money you might get for them?
Keeping an ear to Mike at Sipsey Street for developments.
UPDATE:
Though we still haven't heard specifically who was arrested (reports are that there were seven), the group targeted by the FBI's Joint Terrorism Taskforce and the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms, Explosives, and Those Who Say "Nee" included only members of The Hutaree. I read that Hutaree has made itself into an easy lightning-rod by some of its "statements" and they're probably a case of being the nail that sticks out the farthest gets hammered down first.
News reports include the following from Drudge:
detnews
yahoo
wxyz
freep
and ABC News
Also keeping ears to the ground are fellow bloggers Maggie and Mommy.
The ABC news piece has video, including interview with Mike Lackomar (of michiganmilitia.com who distances his group from Hutaree), as well as a requisite "consulting expert" ex-FBI guy.
Every report includes definition of Hutaree as Christian, and "extreme" and paints American Muslims as the defenseless intended victims of verbalized threats by the Hutaree. I'd never heard of the Hutaree before yesterday. And, although I've read everything I could find, I haven't yet seen specific evidence of these "threats."
There certainly is no shortage of righteous indignation from the CAIR/Muslim community...seems like every report has documented that angle.
At least one report claimed that an un-named militiaman (presumably in the Michigan Militia ranks?), and who is a Muslim (what?), was responsible for triggering the raids. Worth noting: the ABC "consultant" freely characterized the Hutaree (et al) this way, "This crowd tends to be heavily armed, and they're all conspiracy theorists, that the government's trying to take over..." at the 2:03 mark in the video.
Still many more questions than answers. From my perspective, though, any and every armed American who does not openly submit to the Islamification of America, constitutes some measure of threat to Muslims.
If you're in the business of making pipe bombs, wouldn't they be more valuable toward whatever nefarious purpose you had schemed, than whatever money you might get for them?
Keeping an ear to Mike at Sipsey Street for developments.
UPDATE:
Though we still haven't heard specifically who was arrested (reports are that there were seven), the group targeted by the FBI's Joint Terrorism Taskforce and the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms, Explosives, and Those Who Say "Nee" included only members of The Hutaree. I read that Hutaree has made itself into an easy lightning-rod by some of its "statements" and they're probably a case of being the nail that sticks out the farthest gets hammered down first.
News reports include the following from Drudge:
detnews
yahoo
wxyz
freep
and ABC News
Also keeping ears to the ground are fellow bloggers Maggie and Mommy.
The ABC news piece has video, including interview with Mike Lackomar (of michiganmilitia.com who distances his group from Hutaree), as well as a requisite "consulting expert" ex-FBI guy.
Every report includes definition of Hutaree as Christian, and "extreme" and paints American Muslims as the defenseless intended victims of verbalized threats by the Hutaree. I'd never heard of the Hutaree before yesterday. And, although I've read everything I could find, I haven't yet seen specific evidence of these "threats."
There certainly is no shortage of righteous indignation from the CAIR/Muslim community...seems like every report has documented that angle.
At least one report claimed that an un-named militiaman (presumably in the Michigan Militia ranks?), and who is a Muslim (what?), was responsible for triggering the raids. Worth noting: the ABC "consultant" freely characterized the Hutaree (et al) this way, "This crowd tends to be heavily armed, and they're all conspiracy theorists, that the government's trying to take over..." at the 2:03 mark in the video.
Still many more questions than answers. From my perspective, though, any and every armed American who does not openly submit to the Islamification of America, constitutes some measure of threat to Muslims.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Dear Israel,
My country's Usurper In Chief does not speak for me or my country. Do what you wish with your land; do what you wish to your enemies. Your enemies are my enemies.
The so-called President of these United States is a Muslim, and we are learning to despise him, just as he despises you. Do not feel guilty for your distrust of him. We don't trust him, either. He won't place his hand over his heart when regarding the Flag, and does not pledge his allegiance to America, because his allegiances are to those who wish our undoing, just as he wishes your undoing.
If you call me at 3AM, I will answer, and I would come help, if possible. I still owe those bastards for what they did to 3000 of my real brethren.
Such is true for a great many of us. Most of us, in fact.
Your friend,
Jeff
The so-called President of these United States is a Muslim, and we are learning to despise him, just as he despises you. Do not feel guilty for your distrust of him. We don't trust him, either. He won't place his hand over his heart when regarding the Flag, and does not pledge his allegiance to America, because his allegiances are to those who wish our undoing, just as he wishes your undoing.
If you call me at 3AM, I will answer, and I would come help, if possible. I still owe those bastards for what they did to 3000 of my real brethren.
Such is true for a great many of us. Most of us, in fact.
Your friend,
Jeff
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Monday, March 22, 2010
Damn These 5
According to the New York Times online, here is how your North Carolina representatives cast their allegiance yesterday. Eight Congresspersons, including three Democrats, voted NO. Among them are my Congresswoman. These people may be worth keeping around, for having the courage to set themselves apart from the most-egregious power grab in the history of my country.
- Howard Coble (R)
- Virginia Foxx (R)
- Walter B. Jones (R)
- Larry Kissell (D)
- Patrick T. McHenry (R)
- Mike McIntyre (D)
- Sur Myrick (R)
- Heath Shuler (D)
- GK Butterfield
- Bob Etheridge
- Brad Miller
- David E. Price
- Melvin Watt
Saturday, March 20, 2010
The Healthcare Screw
I was asked by my Congresswoman to attend a healtchcare Town Hall meeting, and declined. I sent her this letter instead.
Also this week, I told a friend of mine about the invitation and my response. This is a person who has health insurance, paid for by his employer (the taxpayers of his state). He said to me that the best thing for healthcare would be if the insurance companies were no longer allowed to make a profit. Their pursuit, in his opinion, of the almighty dollar, was the root cause for the unaffordability of individual health insurance.
I confess, I was dumbstruck by this statement. I honestly couldn't begin an retort, because I wasn't sure where to begin. And this is what we're up against. Good people, like my friend, think that a part of our economy (a very large part, indeed) should be forced to have profit removed from their business equation. I wish I'd have asked him he'd like all the profit removed from his own paycheck. His teacher, Vladimir Lenin, would be so proud. Lenin said that the most important first step toward transforming a culture to socialism is through addicition to so-called "free" healthcare. He also said that a lie told often enough, becomes the truth.
Even better, though, than my suggestions to my Congresswoman, are the solutions offered by Ann Coulter. I should copy her entire recent article, but I hope this snippet is enough to get you to go read the whole thing:
Sometime this weekend, folks, the self-serving bastards in Washington are going to screw us. They've tried every way imaginable to legislatively "pass" their big-government scheme in the open, and have been loudly reprimanded by the constituents. They're going to pretend to believe that this "deem & pass" trickery will absolve them of being held accountable in November. What they are also hoping is that once you're part of this new entitlement class, you'll be so addicted to the nanny state, you'll quieten back down and embrace your enslavement.
UPDATE/Important side-note:
If you are a Congressperson holding the deciding vote, or a bloc of a half-dozen at the deciding end of this thing, and you boldly vote "NO!" when the time comes, you'll be praised and hailed and loved even more than Scott Brown was in his victory. Wouldn't you like to practically guarantee your political future?
Thank you for the invitation, but I don't think I'll be coming. I appreciate the fact that you've offered to have a public forum on the subject. However, I find it hard to accept that our representatives still haven't realized how much we hate the concept of the federal government infusing themselves into our lives, especially as applied to our healthcare.
A Town Hall forum, in my humble opinion, carries about as much weight as an honest vote in the Minnesota Senate race. That is, the socialists who want more government imposed on the citizens will keep "counting" votes or changing rules until they've "won".
With its restrictions on who can buy health insurance, from whom it can be gotten, where we must live to get it or keep it, and how it can be marketed, our government already has too much negative impact on its costs and availability. The culture of our legal-remedy system, where doctors are sued for every conceivable hint at malpractice, has done nothing but fatten the lawyers at the expense of everyone else.
I am a cancer survivor (Adenoid Cystic Carcinoma- July 31, 2007). I lost my job when I told my employer of the diagnosis. That meant I also lost my health insurance. Even before the availability of State Continuation Coverage (Texas) ran out, my former employer changed coverage. That meant, like it or not, my coverage changed. And procedures which were "all covered 100%" under the original plan, were then considered out-of-network. The hospital's and the insurance company's solution was to hand me the bag for the $50,000-plus tab.
I'm not asking for yours or anyone's help or sympathy. I just want you to know that I personally know that there are lots of things wrong, and worth fixing, concerning healthcare. Government insurance is not the answer. More taxes aren't the solution, either, thank you very much.
The federal government could begin by capping damage claims . Other than that, the best thing all government can do is remove itself from the equation. I do not wish to owe the government for my well-being or my livelyhood.
Just get out of the way.
Thanks again,
Also this week, I told a friend of mine about the invitation and my response. This is a person who has health insurance, paid for by his employer (the taxpayers of his state). He said to me that the best thing for healthcare would be if the insurance companies were no longer allowed to make a profit. Their pursuit, in his opinion, of the almighty dollar, was the root cause for the unaffordability of individual health insurance.
I confess, I was dumbstruck by this statement. I honestly couldn't begin an retort, because I wasn't sure where to begin. And this is what we're up against. Good people, like my friend, think that a part of our economy (a very large part, indeed) should be forced to have profit removed from their business equation. I wish I'd have asked him he'd like all the profit removed from his own paycheck. His teacher, Vladimir Lenin, would be so proud. Lenin said that the most important first step toward transforming a culture to socialism is through addicition to so-called "free" healthcare. He also said that a lie told often enough, becomes the truth.
Even better, though, than my suggestions to my Congresswoman, are the solutions offered by Ann Coulter. I should copy her entire recent article, but I hope this snippet is enough to get you to go read the whole thing:
Liberals keep complaining that Republicans don't have a plan for reforming health care in America. I have a plan!Of course, personally, I'd like to include a clause for those of us with, by some definition, a pre-existing condition. That clause might read something like, The PE-condition exclusion is hereby nullified if the applicant can win a fist-fight against the Company bare-knuckles champion. I'd feel awfully good about my chances against just about anybody they could trot out.
It's a one-page bill creating a free market in health insurance. Let's all pause here for a moment so liberals can Google the term "free market."
Nearly every problem with health care in this country -- apart from trial lawyers and out-of-date magazines in doctors' waiting rooms -- would be solved by my plan.
Sometime this weekend, folks, the self-serving bastards in Washington are going to screw us. They've tried every way imaginable to legislatively "pass" their big-government scheme in the open, and have been loudly reprimanded by the constituents. They're going to pretend to believe that this "deem & pass" trickery will absolve them of being held accountable in November. What they are also hoping is that once you're part of this new entitlement class, you'll be so addicted to the nanny state, you'll quieten back down and embrace your enslavement.
UPDATE/Important side-note:
If you are a Congressperson holding the deciding vote, or a bloc of a half-dozen at the deciding end of this thing, and you boldly vote "NO!" when the time comes, you'll be praised and hailed and loved even more than Scott Brown was in his victory. Wouldn't you like to practically guarantee your political future?
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Speaking Of Perversions...
...How about some fish porn?
Freckles got me a fly-tying kit for Christmas, and I've learned to tie several patterns. Usually, my flies turn out very different from the finished products in the videos and websites that I've scrounged. But since Hope & Change came to my industry, I have plenty of time to practice fly-tying, as opposed to actual "paying" work.
So, for the past few months, I've been tying Pheasant Tails, Adams, Hare's Ears, Caddis (Caddisses?...Caddi?), Beetles, Wooly Buggers, and so on, and experimenting with things around the shack. I even used some of the synthetic "guts" from one of the stuffed dog-toys that Maggie mutilated, for the post material on some Parachute Adams.
It's always just an exercise in mimicking the conventional or professional standards, until you get to do some first-person R&D, or I should say, the "R" part...that on-stream research. That's what this is all about.
A couple days ago, after stopping by Dave's place to get some materials for tying some of his world-famous creations, I spent some time on a Delayed Harvest crick with my own renditions which were making little, inaudible "try me, try me" whimpers from my vest-pockets. Gotta love the research part of this.
Standard (and very talented, I can say without being boastful) Caddis and Adams flies in a variety of sizes, produced no action. A Hare's Ear and similar nymphs went unbitten. Too early for terrestrials, but I tied a few "experimentals" on to see how they'd float: nothing.
Then, I tried the Parachute with the "guts"-post as basically a strike-indicator with a nymph dangling below.
Wham! This guy hit my fly like it was the tastiest bug he'd seen in weeks.
And I mean he hammered it! There's nothing like landing a fish on a fly you've tied, especially if it's a design or material-usage equation that you had dreamt up. What could make it even better? Well, glad you asked.
At first, I'd thought this was an average (about 14") Brown trout. But I showed the pic to some folks who corrected me. That's a Brook trout, and at 14" is a very, very nice Brookie.
Right after photographing this bad boy and returning him to his pocket of habitat, I proceeded to hang that trophy-catching fly in a tree. Which is the main reason anyone gets into tying his own flies, anyway. So I tied on a store-bought version of the fly I'd gotten the materials for tying on the trip out. 2nd cast landed a braggin' rights Rainbow in the 20" range, but of which there are no photos. This was a case of the photographer/fisherman/fly-tyer having fumblina syndrome, and it was either drop the fish or drop the camera. How much fish porn could you take, anyway?
Freckles got me a fly-tying kit for Christmas, and I've learned to tie several patterns. Usually, my flies turn out very different from the finished products in the videos and websites that I've scrounged. But since Hope & Change came to my industry, I have plenty of time to practice fly-tying, as opposed to actual "paying" work.
So, for the past few months, I've been tying Pheasant Tails, Adams, Hare's Ears, Caddis (Caddisses?...Caddi?), Beetles, Wooly Buggers, and so on, and experimenting with things around the shack. I even used some of the synthetic "guts" from one of the stuffed dog-toys that Maggie mutilated, for the post material on some Parachute Adams.
It's always just an exercise in mimicking the conventional or professional standards, until you get to do some first-person R&D, or I should say, the "R" part...that on-stream research. That's what this is all about.
A couple days ago, after stopping by Dave's place to get some materials for tying some of his world-famous creations, I spent some time on a Delayed Harvest crick with my own renditions which were making little, inaudible "try me, try me" whimpers from my vest-pockets. Gotta love the research part of this.
Standard (and very talented, I can say without being boastful) Caddis and Adams flies in a variety of sizes, produced no action. A Hare's Ear and similar nymphs went unbitten. Too early for terrestrials, but I tied a few "experimentals" on to see how they'd float: nothing.
Then, I tried the Parachute with the "guts"-post as basically a strike-indicator with a nymph dangling below.
Wham! This guy hit my fly like it was the tastiest bug he'd seen in weeks.
And I mean he hammered it! There's nothing like landing a fish on a fly you've tied, especially if it's a design or material-usage equation that you had dreamt up. What could make it even better? Well, glad you asked.
At first, I'd thought this was an average (about 14") Brown trout. But I showed the pic to some folks who corrected me. That's a Brook trout, and at 14" is a very, very nice Brookie.
Right after photographing this bad boy and returning him to his pocket of habitat, I proceeded to hang that trophy-catching fly in a tree. Which is the main reason anyone gets into tying his own flies, anyway. So I tied on a store-bought version of the fly I'd gotten the materials for tying on the trip out. 2nd cast landed a braggin' rights Rainbow in the 20" range, but of which there are no photos. This was a case of the photographer/fisherman/fly-tyer having fumblina syndrome, and it was either drop the fish or drop the camera. How much fish porn could you take, anyway?
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
NEWSFLASH: God's Will Doesn't Contradict Nature
I can't claim to be a Biblical scholar. True, I have read the Bible a few times, and researched the history surrounding it. I passed my catechism, and paid attention to what I was taught. Well, usually.
I've come to suspect (maybe just short of actually believe) that some of the Bible may be the word of God, and some might just be the word of man (throwing his voice, like Jeff Dunham), but with quite good intentions. Considering that, and I think the most common fallacy regarding the nature of God is man's attempt to define God and His nature, I'm absolutely convinced that God would never do anything that is contradictory to His own nature.
Let me state that again, for emphasis...GOD WOULD NOT DO THAT WHICH IS NOT NATURAL.
A while back, someone put forth the proposition to me that their deviant preference regarding sexual partners was somehow God's idea. Polite disagreement led to impolite disagreement, because logic to a homosexual is received with about the same welcome as lighting their hair on fire. And they respond almost the same way (don't ask me how I know this). This person, knowing deep down how inappropriate and unnatural their lifestyle is, chose to blame God for "making him this way."
Horse. Shit.
Well, shut my mouth, then. If God made you this way, then who am I to question it, right? This concept completely absolves you of any responsibility for choosing the way of the pillow-biter! It's not your fault!
Double. Horse. Shit.
Look here, I might be inclined to disregard your perversions so long as you do me the courtesy of keeping your perversions outside of and away from my scope of consciousness. Snuggle up with your butt-buddy in the privacy of your own home...share your lesbo-love with your flannel-clad butch babe where I'll never notice. But do not try to make me accept your deviance as somehow "normal" behavior. Nor should you try to chip away at the granite ramparts of my convictions by eroding those of my surrounding community. What you choose to do is shameful, and I'd react poorly to having that shame forced on me in any way. Even a little bit. Even if you don't think I should think so.
Make no mistake, homosexuality is a perversion...no less of one than beastiality, pedophilia, and necrophilia. Not a disease, and not an act of God...a choice. And keeping your perversion private is a choice. Very much like my keeping this aluminum baseball bat away from your head is a choice. God (or nature, if you prefer) made men and women symmetrical opposites for breeding purposes, and there are recreational benefits to that arrangement of design. To pretend that He has the occasional nervous tic that runs contrary to that design is just plain stupid. Let me say it once more, very simply...God did not make you gay. Neither did your DNA, for that matter.
I may have my own perversions, but I don't foist them on others who are, or might be, uncomfortable with them. And I do not seek to legitimize activities in a place where they are decidedly unwelcome. Not even a little bit.
If I enjoy floating dry flies in a mountain stream, or riding a horse and shooting a gun, I can do those when and where they most likely would not inflict discomfort on someone else. For me to try to legislate your acceptance (or even tolerance) of something that is an abhorance to you, would be just plain rude. If I came to your neighborhood, and tried to force acceptance of my lifestyle down your throat, you'd be justifiably put off, to say the least. Perhaps I'd go so far as to say you'd be justifiably violent in your oppostion.
Therefore, unless you'd like for people like me, people who disagree with your perversions but do so quietly, to leave you alone to practice those perversions and not seek to legislatively stamp out your assumed and adopted "rights," then please consider keeping your perversions well away from us.
On the other hand, show up in the deep, dark forest wearing a sign that says, "FOOD" and see if the bear gives half a flying shit about your convoluted sense of right and wrong, or what you think God has to say about it. If you decide to put yourself (or worse than that, someone else) in such a position under the presumption that the bear might respond well to some cosmopolitan view of society, then you are truly an adventurous soul.
Good luck with all that.
I've come to suspect (maybe just short of actually believe) that some of the Bible may be the word of God, and some might just be the word of man (throwing his voice, like Jeff Dunham), but with quite good intentions. Considering that, and I think the most common fallacy regarding the nature of God is man's attempt to define God and His nature, I'm absolutely convinced that God would never do anything that is contradictory to His own nature.
Let me state that again, for emphasis...GOD WOULD NOT DO THAT WHICH IS NOT NATURAL.
A while back, someone put forth the proposition to me that their deviant preference regarding sexual partners was somehow God's idea. Polite disagreement led to impolite disagreement, because logic to a homosexual is received with about the same welcome as lighting their hair on fire. And they respond almost the same way (don't ask me how I know this). This person, knowing deep down how inappropriate and unnatural their lifestyle is, chose to blame God for "making him this way."
Horse. Shit.
Well, shut my mouth, then. If God made you this way, then who am I to question it, right? This concept completely absolves you of any responsibility for choosing the way of the pillow-biter! It's not your fault!
Double. Horse. Shit.
Look here, I might be inclined to disregard your perversions so long as you do me the courtesy of keeping your perversions outside of and away from my scope of consciousness. Snuggle up with your butt-buddy in the privacy of your own home...share your lesbo-love with your flannel-clad butch babe where I'll never notice. But do not try to make me accept your deviance as somehow "normal" behavior. Nor should you try to chip away at the granite ramparts of my convictions by eroding those of my surrounding community. What you choose to do is shameful, and I'd react poorly to having that shame forced on me in any way. Even a little bit. Even if you don't think I should think so.
Make no mistake, homosexuality is a perversion...no less of one than beastiality, pedophilia, and necrophilia. Not a disease, and not an act of God...a choice. And keeping your perversion private is a choice. Very much like my keeping this aluminum baseball bat away from your head is a choice. God (or nature, if you prefer) made men and women symmetrical opposites for breeding purposes, and there are recreational benefits to that arrangement of design. To pretend that He has the occasional nervous tic that runs contrary to that design is just plain stupid. Let me say it once more, very simply...God did not make you gay. Neither did your DNA, for that matter.
I may have my own perversions, but I don't foist them on others who are, or might be, uncomfortable with them. And I do not seek to legitimize activities in a place where they are decidedly unwelcome. Not even a little bit.
If I enjoy floating dry flies in a mountain stream, or riding a horse and shooting a gun, I can do those when and where they most likely would not inflict discomfort on someone else. For me to try to legislate your acceptance (or even tolerance) of something that is an abhorance to you, would be just plain rude. If I came to your neighborhood, and tried to force acceptance of my lifestyle down your throat, you'd be justifiably put off, to say the least. Perhaps I'd go so far as to say you'd be justifiably violent in your oppostion.
Therefore, unless you'd like for people like me, people who disagree with your perversions but do so quietly, to leave you alone to practice those perversions and not seek to legislatively stamp out your assumed and adopted "rights," then please consider keeping your perversions well away from us.
On the other hand, show up in the deep, dark forest wearing a sign that says, "FOOD" and see if the bear gives half a flying shit about your convoluted sense of right and wrong, or what you think God has to say about it. If you decide to put yourself (or worse than that, someone else) in such a position under the presumption that the bear might respond well to some cosmopolitan view of society, then you are truly an adventurous soul.
Good luck with all that.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
The Handgun Essay
I was very recently made aware of the essay excerpted below. The person who brought it to my attention is currently commanding troops in Iraq, which reinforces my faith in the calibre of soldier we have employed there.
There wasn't a date affixed to the byline, but there were clues sufficient to place the pennage in the late 1990's, and I didn't sense the location I'd been referred to was the original housing. So, I googled the author and found him residing in a blog called, Sipsey Street Irregulars, and his email address. I couldn't find, on Sipsey Street, any reference to the Handgun essay, so I wrote to the email address listed to ask for its whereabouts. Mr. Mike Vanderboegh kindly directed me to his 10-Years-After recapped & edited version located at Western Rifle Shooters blog. Read A Handgun Against An Army.
In the forum where I read the link to the original Handgun, one commenter who claimed to be a US Veteran asserted that the author's historical accuracy was sketchy, and proposed that no civilians with conventional weaponry could ever hope to win out over a real army.
I wrote to him that I heard this fellow General Cornwallis felt pretty much the same way before meeting up with the Overmountain Men at the battles of King's Mountain and Cowpens.
That was pretty much the end of his presumed historical authority.
But forget the psychological and political for a moment, and consider just the numbers. To paraphrase the Senator, "A million pistols here, a million rifles there, pretty soon you're talking serious firepower." No one, repeat, no one, will conquer America, from within or without, until its citizenry is disarmed. We remain, as a British officer had reason to complain at the start of our Revolution, "a people numerous and armed."
The Second Amendment is a political issue today only because of the military reality that underlies it. Politicians who fear the people seek to disarm them. People who fear their government's intentions refuse to be disarmed.
The Founders understood this.
So, too, does every tyrant who ever lived.
Liberty-loving Americans forget it at their peril.
Until they do, American gunowners in the aggregate represent a strategic military fact and an impediment to foreign tyranny. They also represent the greatest political challenge to home-grown would-be tyrants. If the people cannot be forcibly disarmed against their will, then they must be persuaded to give up their arms voluntarily. This is the siren song of "gun control," which is to say "government control of all firearms," although few self-respecting gun-grabbers are quite so bold as to phrase it so honestly.
There wasn't a date affixed to the byline, but there were clues sufficient to place the pennage in the late 1990's, and I didn't sense the location I'd been referred to was the original housing. So, I googled the author and found him residing in a blog called, Sipsey Street Irregulars, and his email address. I couldn't find, on Sipsey Street, any reference to the Handgun essay, so I wrote to the email address listed to ask for its whereabouts. Mr. Mike Vanderboegh kindly directed me to his 10-Years-After recapped & edited version located at Western Rifle Shooters blog. Read A Handgun Against An Army.
In the forum where I read the link to the original Handgun, one commenter who claimed to be a US Veteran asserted that the author's historical accuracy was sketchy, and proposed that no civilians with conventional weaponry could ever hope to win out over a real army.
I wrote to him that I heard this fellow General Cornwallis felt pretty much the same way before meeting up with the Overmountain Men at the battles of King's Mountain and Cowpens.
That was pretty much the end of his presumed historical authority.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Happy birthday to me!
Yesterday marked the 1-year anniversary of the Livermush blog.
The genesis of this publication was in my pressure-cooker of internalized aggravation at the way our elected leaders had taken off down a path of self-indulgent policy making at the expense of their constituents.
With last night's election, I can honestly say that I am much more optimistic about the country's future health, than I was a year ago.
Seriously, Scott Brown and the people of Massachusetts didn't just defeat Martha Coakley. They beat SEIU and Black Panther thugs, ACORN-enabled voter fraud, the healthcare reform scam, the global warming scam, the ostrich media, George Soros, and most importantly defeated the advocates of Big Government. The icing on the cake, though? The fact that the Big Zero's endorsement of Coakley pretty much sealed her political fate. How's that neverending campaign working out for you today, O!Bummer?
Not much time to gloat today, though. Got stuff to do...Much love and happiness to all. More blog effort later, methinks.
On behalf of a grateful America, thank you Massachusetts!
The genesis of this publication was in my pressure-cooker of internalized aggravation at the way our elected leaders had taken off down a path of self-indulgent policy making at the expense of their constituents.
With last night's election, I can honestly say that I am much more optimistic about the country's future health, than I was a year ago.
Seriously, Scott Brown and the people of Massachusetts didn't just defeat Martha Coakley. They beat SEIU and Black Panther thugs, ACORN-enabled voter fraud, the healthcare reform scam, the global warming scam, the ostrich media, George Soros, and most importantly defeated the advocates of Big Government. The icing on the cake, though? The fact that the Big Zero's endorsement of Coakley pretty much sealed her political fate. How's that neverending campaign working out for you today, O!Bummer?
Not much time to gloat today, though. Got stuff to do...Much love and happiness to all. More blog effort later, methinks.
On behalf of a grateful America, thank you Massachusetts!
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Catch
I'll quickly get back to helping you question everything you've historically and erroneously accepted as fact. But in the meantime, let me introduce you to my new favorite online magazine. Replete with stunning photography and videography, this monthly online publication will soon become one of your favorites, too. Kind of like National Geographic for flyfishermen: Catch Magazine. Ehhh, sorry, that was their blog, which is good...but nothing like the magazine itself: Catch Magazine Magazine.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
The real Christmas buffet: laughter, thought, & tears
Goshamighty, it's great to get together with folks you love. Here are some highlights from yesterday's gatherings, or at least that were relevant to those memories...
There were folks who could remember most of the words to the following commercial, but no one could recall ever eating the cereal. While looking for this video, I found another (earlier) one that said, regarding the character Boss Moss: "He never has a solution, but he's always very understanding." Then the Freakies emerge from the barren, spooky, foresty place to a flowery meadow with a Freakie-tree atop a hill in very hopey-changey colors. Freakie, indeed.
Also, I got to meet up with four old friends and, among other things, raise a glass to our friend Terry, who's been gone over a year now. It doesn't seem that long ago, but I know it was before the 2008 election... that would have killed him, too. A great athlete, Terry also had a brilliant sense of humor. One recollection that always gets told in this group refers to high school math class. Whether it was Ms. Jetton or Ms. Swink, algebra, trigonometry, or calculus, when the teacher asked for the solution, Terry's big hand always went up first. Regardless of the nature of the problem, Terry's answer was always the same, if she'd dare call on him.
"Cross-Multiply!"
To the absolute glee of his class-mates, and constant angst for those poor teachers. I believe he actually used it in French class, too.
Terry would have been only 46 nowadays, but was ripped apart by cancer. All through school, I referred to him as my best friend. Even long after going our separate ways beyond high school, we still called each other every Christmas Day, and discussed our "gifts" (the physical ones and the important ones), and our families. I wish I could get a call from him tomorrow. I wish he'd have lived long enough to read my blog; I have every confidence he'd have been a frequent presence, and boldly supportive.
To you, my friend.
There was an equal contingent of Tar Heel and Wolfpack fans at the get-your-drink-on/high-school-reunion gathering, and some (mostly) good-natured banter. It is a Wolfpack hero, though (and hero of mine also), who best sums up the sentiments I'm feeling here, now: Jim Valvano...
It is difficult for me to write this, because I've lost about as many as I've loved. But then, we've all faced our own hardships, right? Embrace every opportunity you have to embrace those you love. And may you all be as lucky as I am this day. Merry Christmas.
There were folks who could remember most of the words to the following commercial, but no one could recall ever eating the cereal. While looking for this video, I found another (earlier) one that said, regarding the character Boss Moss: "He never has a solution, but he's always very understanding." Then the Freakies emerge from the barren, spooky, foresty place to a flowery meadow with a Freakie-tree atop a hill in very hopey-changey colors. Freakie, indeed.
Also, I got to meet up with four old friends and, among other things, raise a glass to our friend Terry, who's been gone over a year now. It doesn't seem that long ago, but I know it was before the 2008 election... that would have killed him, too. A great athlete, Terry also had a brilliant sense of humor. One recollection that always gets told in this group refers to high school math class. Whether it was Ms. Jetton or Ms. Swink, algebra, trigonometry, or calculus, when the teacher asked for the solution, Terry's big hand always went up first. Regardless of the nature of the problem, Terry's answer was always the same, if she'd dare call on him.
"Cross-Multiply!"
To the absolute glee of his class-mates, and constant angst for those poor teachers. I believe he actually used it in French class, too.
Terry would have been only 46 nowadays, but was ripped apart by cancer. All through school, I referred to him as my best friend. Even long after going our separate ways beyond high school, we still called each other every Christmas Day, and discussed our "gifts" (the physical ones and the important ones), and our families. I wish I could get a call from him tomorrow. I wish he'd have lived long enough to read my blog; I have every confidence he'd have been a frequent presence, and boldly supportive.
To you, my friend.
There was an equal contingent of Tar Heel and Wolfpack fans at the get-your-drink-on/high-school-reunion gathering, and some (mostly) good-natured banter. It is a Wolfpack hero, though (and hero of mine also), who best sums up the sentiments I'm feeling here, now: Jim Valvano...
It is difficult for me to write this, because I've lost about as many as I've loved. But then, we've all faced our own hardships, right? Embrace every opportunity you have to embrace those you love. And may you all be as lucky as I am this day. Merry Christmas.
Friday, December 18, 2009
Perversions.
If you want one example of how deplorably sickening the consequences of your voting have been or could be, exhibit A:
Imagine a person having a job where he has the authority to teach your 7-year old son or daughter the "benefits" of activities like fellatio, fisting, cunnilingus, and sodomy. Imagine also that this person fully advocates adult-on-child sexual relations (it's called pedophilia), or defends and supports those who do. Imagine also that this person gets paid over $270,000 per year for helping lead the effort to pervert your children.
Who pays him?
You do.
Who hired him?
Barack Hussein Obama.
What's his name, title, and job description?
Kevin Jennings. "Safe schools Czar." His job description is to eradicate the stigma of being a homosexual, by legitimizing sexual deviance. He, and his supporters, know that desensitizing your Kindergartener to the otherwise shocking idea of an adult inserting his entire fist in her rectum will make the perversion of homosexuality seem so much less-threatening by comparison.
I don't have kids, but I wouldn't leave this scum-sucking piece of shit alone with my dog.
At biggovernment.com, Jim Hoft reports that 12 national conservative groups co-endorsed a letter to BHO demanding that Jennings' employment be terminated. A portion of that letter...
I promise you, fair reader, that if you witness the material this guy wants your children to be taught, not just given access to (which is abominable enough), but taught, you'll be as disgusted as I am.
This ain't leadership...this is an eradication of decency. And it's not an accident.
It's bad enough that unredeemable scum like Jennings is allowed to breathe the air in this country, but it's absolutely gut-wrenching that a United States President could look objectively at someone like this and consider him even remotely qualified to earn a paycheck at the taxpayers' expense...
...much less, much, much, much less than hold any kind of leadership role over the educational fate of children.
Imagine a person having a job where he has the authority to teach your 7-year old son or daughter the "benefits" of activities like fellatio, fisting, cunnilingus, and sodomy. Imagine also that this person fully advocates adult-on-child sexual relations (it's called pedophilia), or defends and supports those who do. Imagine also that this person gets paid over $270,000 per year for helping lead the effort to pervert your children.
Who pays him?
You do.
Who hired him?
Barack Hussein Obama.
What's his name, title, and job description?
Kevin Jennings. "Safe schools Czar." His job description is to eradicate the stigma of being a homosexual, by legitimizing sexual deviance. He, and his supporters, know that desensitizing your Kindergartener to the otherwise shocking idea of an adult inserting his entire fist in her rectum will make the perversion of homosexuality seem so much less-threatening by comparison.At biggovernment.com, Jim Hoft reports that 12 national conservative groups co-endorsed a letter to BHO demanding that Jennings' employment be terminated. A portion of that letter...
As head of the Gay, Lesbian, and Straight Education Network (GLSEN), Mr. Jennings is on record as promoting liberal sex education and homosexual themes to children as early as Kindergarten.At the end of his post, Hoft also mentions (and links to) Congressman Michael Burgess' bill, HR 966, and I hope the bill at least gets through committee to the floor of the House. But at the same time, I'd like to see the bill that similarly calls for the dismissal of the morally bankrupt bastard who hired Jennings, and who continues to defraud the American people: Barack Obama.
Now, additional information comes to light regarding Mr. Jenning’s association with GLSEN “Fistgate” Conferences, encouraging extreme sexual practices in children as young as 14. After objections were raised to that matter, Mr. Jennings announced that GLSEN presentations and presenters would be more closely monitored. But then, the following such conference included the handing out of “Fisting Kits” to children. The descriptions of the use of these kits are beyond imagination. To endorse this behavior, much less promote it, is unforgivable.
I promise you, fair reader, that if you witness the material this guy wants your children to be taught, not just given access to (which is abominable enough), but taught, you'll be as disgusted as I am.
This ain't leadership...this is an eradication of decency. And it's not an accident.
It's bad enough that unredeemable scum like Jennings is allowed to breathe the air in this country, but it's absolutely gut-wrenching that a United States President could look objectively at someone like this and consider him even remotely qualified to earn a paycheck at the taxpayers' expense...
...much less, much, much, much less than hold any kind of leadership role over the educational fate of children.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Roughing the Puss-Puss...Fifteen yards from the spot of the foul
According to the Raleigh News & Observer, NCSU coach Tom O'Brien publicly took exception to UNC head coach Butch Davis' account of the postgame misbehavior of UNC's Dante Paige-Moss. The Obscurer's Ken Tysiac claimed that O'Brien telephoned "a reporter" to voice his umbrage. At the N&O today, there's a video of the incident. Yep, I watched it.
Davis had said that Paige-Moss shoved a player who was taunting him. In the video, it does appear that the Wusspack players might have been barking and taunting, but certainly none of it specifically in Moss-Paige's face. It is clear, however, that DPM (that's much better than typing out all that hyphen-stuff) took a swipe at the NCSU player. And I'm not talking about the kind of "Oh yeah, well here's something for you to yap about about" cold-cock, knuckle-sammich-shot to the mouth. No. DPM, still wearing his brain-bucket, took a half-ass slap at the (helmetless) State player while ducking away. Three words:
PAN. SEE. FIED.
I still say that you can't take any man seriously who has a hyphenated last name. Maybe that's part of DPM's problem. Maybe, having a hyphenated name makes you a sort-of-hyphenated man. Note to American men: Do not let your son grow up with a hyphenated last name. Pick a fuckin' name. If your wife is manly enough to demand that her name is worth keeping, and if you can't squelch the hyphen nonsense, rather than permanently display your lack of man-card, just go ahead and acquiesce completely to her name. At least do your kid that favor. Seriously, he'd be better off with a name like "Sue." And if you're that kid, who might someday have his name written on the back of his jersey in front a gazillion people, it's time for you to man up, too. Once you turn 18, go on down to the courthouse, and get yourself undashed.
How wormy do your have to be, as a man, to let that happen? What's next...your name is Smith, and her name is Smith, so in deference to both your families you decide to name your little demon spawn Smith-Smith? Or, how about this: Both of you might change your names to Smuh-to-the-ith. Spelled out and super-hyphenated, just like that. Puh-to-thuh-thetic, I say.
O'Brien's motivation is clear: Keep controversy stirred up, because without a bowl of their own, there's not really anything for him do regarding his current players. But the implication that his players were blameless in the whole episode is pretty much just as pansyfied as DPM's slappy-run play. And not a single ounce more justifiable. If you believe Tommy O-to-the-B, his little angel was just mindin' his own bidness. But if you look at his quote a bit skeptically, you figure (like I do) that it's just more taunting. Which is fine by me, so long as you stand up there and do it, instead of pretending it ain't what it is.
I wish Davis had said, "In addition to suspending him for our bowl game, I showed Dante Puss-Puss a video of (Carolina Hurricanes defenseman) Tim Gleason as an example of how to fight like a man. Further, we've instructed him that if he can't win on the football field, he'd better get used to some taunting, and that slappy-run plays are the modus operandi of O'Brien's gang, not ours."
One small victory in that whole mess? Could be that this guy, Marvin (unhyphenated) Austin, who doesn't seem to like the 'Pack' so much and plays his best games against them, might decide that beating those taunters is reason enough to stick around Chapel Hill another year, instead of going to the NFL.
Davis had said that Paige-Moss shoved a player who was taunting him. In the video, it does appear that the Wusspack players might have been barking and taunting, but certainly none of it specifically in Moss-Paige's face. It is clear, however, that DPM (that's much better than typing out all that hyphen-stuff) took a swipe at the NCSU player. And I'm not talking about the kind of "Oh yeah, well here's something for you to yap about about" cold-cock, knuckle-sammich-shot to the mouth. No. DPM, still wearing his brain-bucket, took a half-ass slap at the (helmetless) State player while ducking away. Three words:
PAN. SEE. FIED.
I still say that you can't take any man seriously who has a hyphenated last name. Maybe that's part of DPM's problem. Maybe, having a hyphenated name makes you a sort-of-hyphenated man. Note to American men: Do not let your son grow up with a hyphenated last name. Pick a fuckin' name. If your wife is manly enough to demand that her name is worth keeping, and if you can't squelch the hyphen nonsense, rather than permanently display your lack of man-card, just go ahead and acquiesce completely to her name. At least do your kid that favor. Seriously, he'd be better off with a name like "Sue." And if you're that kid, who might someday have his name written on the back of his jersey in front a gazillion people, it's time for you to man up, too. Once you turn 18, go on down to the courthouse, and get yourself undashed.
How wormy do your have to be, as a man, to let that happen? What's next...your name is Smith, and her name is Smith, so in deference to both your families you decide to name your little demon spawn Smith-Smith? Or, how about this: Both of you might change your names to Smuh-to-the-ith. Spelled out and super-hyphenated, just like that. Puh-to-thuh-thetic, I say.
O'Brien's motivation is clear: Keep controversy stirred up, because without a bowl of their own, there's not really anything for him do regarding his current players. But the implication that his players were blameless in the whole episode is pretty much just as pansyfied as DPM's slappy-run play. And not a single ounce more justifiable. If you believe Tommy O-to-the-B, his little angel was just mindin' his own bidness. But if you look at his quote a bit skeptically, you figure (like I do) that it's just more taunting. Which is fine by me, so long as you stand up there and do it, instead of pretending it ain't what it is.
I wish Davis had said, "In addition to suspending him for our bowl game, I showed Dante Puss-Puss a video of (Carolina Hurricanes defenseman) Tim Gleason as an example of how to fight like a man. Further, we've instructed him that if he can't win on the football field, he'd better get used to some taunting, and that slappy-run plays are the modus operandi of O'Brien's gang, not ours."
One small victory in that whole mess? Could be that this guy, Marvin (unhyphenated) Austin, who doesn't seem to like the 'Pack' so much and plays his best games against them, might decide that beating those taunters is reason enough to stick around Chapel Hill another year, instead of going to the NFL.This just in...my good friend Kurt (unhyphenated, but a State fan) just called to say he's pretty sure that this post constitutes yet another pass-interference penalty, which will be assessed on the Tar Heels' first play from scrimmage in the Meineke Bowl.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Keef Undermann Comments!
Or perhaps this is from Chris "You've lost that tingly feeling" Matthews, or Allahpunted, or the O!Bummer himself. They are all lurkers here at the House of Livermush, and are the suspected authors of frequent anonymous comments to older posts. This one was received this most-recent Friday but in response to the BLOGBURST of Oct. 23rd. As if they can vandal-tag my posts when my back is turned and I wouldn't notice. Don't think I don't recognize the poor command of spelling and syntax you learned from the Cornell Tractor College, Keith.
For anyone to suggest that this architect has benign intentions (don't forget that the focus of his grad school thesis was Middle Eastern influence in architecture), is an insult to anyone paying attention.
Also don't discount the presumed "value" for the architect later claiming that the "3-degree error" is reflective of his presumed American inferiority. His intent is to memorialize the terrorists, to symbolically complete their mission by martyring them on the ground in Shanksville. Anyone who claims otherwise is a fool. Anyone who vandalizes my blog posts with anonymous comments on old posts is a coward.
And if you really think you've "asured" me: Uh, no. Dipshit.
My assurance will come with the widespread exposure of this dispicable design and the project's cancellation.
Nice research but please let me asure you that its not what you think. The Arc is so big that a person would struggle to find the exact centre that they would have to face for prayers. Also you are right that most older Mihrabs are not exactly correct and the intension is what counts, but as a land surveyor myself Obviosuly in this day and age with acurate survey & GPS the norm there is no excuss for new constructions having the direction wrong, the intention would then be false and it would not be a mehrab for prayer to mecca. Either way, you dont have a mehrab without a mosque and its not Islamic custom to make a house of worship to God out of trees.
I say this as a Muslim who strongly opposis any act of terrorism and belives in the True teachings of Islam, not the misinterprated and twisted to suit their objectives religion of terrorists.Let me just say I ain't buying your "I say this as a Muslim" bit, any more than your half-hearted claim to be a surveyor. If you were a surveyor on the ground there in Shanksville, you'd point your wing-stretched fingertips at the ends of the crescent and slap a 90 (real surveyor's field technique for establishing a surprisingly accurate perpendicular bisector). The architect could have been trying to incorporate an adjustment for magnetic declination, but I don't think so, and I bet you know better, too. His intention is called "plausible deniability." He needs to be able to tell one story ( I didn't design any real Islamic symbolism into it, because if I had, I'd have made it more precise) to the National Parks Service, and the opposite story (This is a Mosque, wherein the greater orientation is slightly off, but with enough interior elements to help you fine tune your direction) to those Muslims he wishes to appeal.
For anyone to suggest that this architect has benign intentions (don't forget that the focus of his grad school thesis was Middle Eastern influence in architecture), is an insult to anyone paying attention.
Also don't discount the presumed "value" for the architect later claiming that the "3-degree error" is reflective of his presumed American inferiority. His intent is to memorialize the terrorists, to symbolically complete their mission by martyring them on the ground in Shanksville. Anyone who claims otherwise is a fool. Anyone who vandalizes my blog posts with anonymous comments on old posts is a coward.
And if you really think you've "asured" me: Uh, no. Dipshit.
My assurance will come with the widespread exposure of this dispicable design and the project's cancellation.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Y'all that twitter and facebook...
I did that whole myspace thing for a while. But my distaste for it has made me want to keep the lure of all the other "social media" functions, 'specially Facebook, fended off. Here's something worthwhile, though, for those of you who do enjoy that business.
If you go become one of their followers on Facebook, or fans on Twitter (or is that fan on FB, and follower on Twitter?), Rudy's Country Store & Bar-B-Q will donate $0.50 to the families of the victims of the Ft. Hoodshootings Islamic terrorist attack.
Don't let it trouble you too hard that your heap of Q is served on a sheet of wax paper for a "plate". Stand in line; it's not a long wait, but well worth every second. When your turn comes, you sidle up to the counter and tell them you're new to Rudy's, and they'll have you sample good eats until you're satisfied with your potential order. "Extra Moist" brisket comes highly recommended from the Livermush guy.
If you go become one of their followers on Facebook, or fans on Twitter (or is that fan on FB, and follower on Twitter?), Rudy's Country Store & Bar-B-Q will donate $0.50 to the families of the victims of the Ft. Hood
You could drive by a thousand Rudy's across Texas, and never give them much thought, so unassuming are their stores, and see their slogan, "Worst Bar-B-Q in Texas" and maybe be able to keep your mouth from watering. All you're doing is delaying the inevitable: Eat at Rudy's...fall in love with Rudy's.
Don't let it trouble you too hard that your heap of Q is served on a sheet of wax paper for a "plate". Stand in line; it's not a long wait, but well worth every second. When your turn comes, you sidle up to the counter and tell them you're new to Rudy's, and they'll have you sample good eats until you're satisfied with your potential order. "Extra Moist" brisket comes highly recommended from the Livermush guy.Thanks and hat-tip to BLACKFIVE for the heads-up.
Befriend those fine folks at Rudy's and help them do something good in the process. And invite your friends, followers, and tweeting minions to do the same. Plus, next time you're hungry, stop in a Rudy's.
Please.
Music Appreciation
I've recently been introduced, by a new friend, to some very cool music blogs. And like most things, you don't know what you've been missing, until you get some. Music, that is. Careful, y'all...
Anyhoo, I've found some music blogs/sites that interest me. Linked forthwith:
Americana Roots and its sister site, wherefrom their playlist emanates, Americana Rock Mix.
Lots of very good downloads at A Truer Sound.
Front Porch Musings
Nine Bullets
I'm also looking at Alt-512, We Own This Town, and I'm also really liking Twang Nation.
Can't say that a whole 'nuther blogroll category would be forthcoming, but you never know. Any of y'all currently reference these same sites for seasoning to your musical tastebuds?
Anyhoo, I've found some music blogs/sites that interest me. Linked forthwith:
Americana Roots and its sister site, wherefrom their playlist emanates, Americana Rock Mix.
Lots of very good downloads at A Truer Sound.
Front Porch Musings
Nine Bullets
I'm also looking at Alt-512, We Own This Town, and I'm also really liking Twang Nation.
Can't say that a whole 'nuther blogroll category would be forthcoming, but you never know. Any of y'all currently reference these same sites for seasoning to your musical tastebuds?
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