As an American, who has always loved his country (so much so, that like a Father or Mother with their children, sometimes being critical of it…we expect so much from our children, and to me, my country is something that as citizens, we are all sort of parental to) – I’ve always tried to see my country through the spectacles of our forefathers (specifically Ben Franklin).
I’ve always tried to say, “what would they think”, “what would they do?”.
Now I know that is not popular today, ’cause as everybody knows, they were a bunch of gender-biased bigots.
Old dead white guys.
Well, this white guy is very much alive, and still loves the country they forged (and we have helped sustain).
I have to ask what they would think, as post-renaissance, renaissance men, of a new Nation that would sell out its own allies.
There can be no question in my mind that they would view what is taking place at this very moment (Egypt, Russia) as the most vile form of treachery.
Obama appears as that horrific “l’enfant terrible” that the French so aptly defined.
Like little Lord Faunterloy, he seems to me to be practicing a sort of “slash and burn” mentality…he senses that he is on his way out, so is inflicting as much damage as possible before his exit.
I pray to God in heaven that our allies will forgive us, and will realize that a new power base and leadership and mindset is on the rise in our country.
I would not blame them if they never trust us again…putting myself in their shoes (England, Egypt) – I know that I would never trust us again…but I come from the mountains and we learn to respect rattle snakes, cotton mouths and other vipers…once bitten, twice shy is our phrase.
But I would caution the world that things can “turn on a dime” in America.
We can pay off our debt to China, and we will.
We can rise to prominence again, and we will.
We also can make pledges, and we can live by those pledges (and we will).
A good one to start with is “never again”.
Never again will we allow a cretin to rise to power and inflict the kind of damage that this childish, impudent, boor of a man has inflicted not only on his own Nation, but on the world-at-large.
Harken back to the time that Obama was running for President…conjure up from the depths of your mind the angry speech that was hurled at a congregation by his minister (the right (ahem) Reverend Wright).
I believe I remember his exact words were “God DAMNED America”.
Well, I can assure you that it is NOT the God of Israel, or that same God of Christ who is having this damning effect on our Nation.
In fact, it is not a god at all.
It is a bunch of hate-filled men and women.
Hate filled, and dedicated to the prospect of tearing our Nation assunder.
This is not mere treachery; it is treason.
The collusion that Obama is taking with not only this “brotherhood” that is supposedly rising to power in Egypt (could not tell by all the fighting and killing that they are taking “by the will of the people”, now can you?)…but also with the Soviets…it is beyond apalling.
It is time for his own party to do something about him, and while they are at it, re-examine the Reids and Pelosis of the party as well (I know for damned sure that this Republican is taking a much, much more critical look at McCain).
This is beyond insanity, and beyond treason, and it is time democracy does something to right this listing ship.
The new Republican leadership needs to take a forecful, and vocal stand on the unfolding world events.
They need to be even more critical of Obama, and someone needs to reign the SOB in…quickly.
If his party can not do it, the courts (or someone) need to.
He is a rogue, and he causing damage beyond belief.
He simply needs to be stopped before it is too late (if if is not already too late).
Hear about who is “Living Large” during these times that try men’s souls?
Talk about your Manchurian candidates, huh? (How much they kicking back to you, Herr King of the Hoops?).
I’ve always known that those suck-tails and “brother’s of the hood”, brotherhood were in collective cahoots. Never fails, pinko-commie flamingos will always flock together.
Oh, and by the way, “John-Q-tax-paying-citizen”…just like with Big “O”, Obama, your the one getting stuck with the bill.
America, did you learn anything at all about all those privileged-puke, up-scale, children of flowers, Charlie Manson and drug-induced state of paranoia that WAS the sixties generation? (Their children’s children have risen in the form of Obama and his Union buds).
It’s all about the have’s and the have-nots. And guess what? The one’s who are screaming the loudest are not those who went and fought in Viet Nam — they were the children of the rich who stayed here, shot heroin and made love in the afternoon sun (or, union-produced cannons, M-16’s and napalm).
You know, the same bunch running the country today.
We have sold our souls to commercials, to movies and to propaganda about each of us being “Earth Mothers” and “Earth Stewards” instead of having common sense and living (as best we can) in a universe over which we have little (if any) control.
Welcome to the world of chaos.
You know, I like to think of chaos as a spinning top that suddenly begins to spin out of control.
It will not stay on its tip, spinning beautifully, unless certain conditions are maintained.
Proper speed, the mass and bulk of the “torso” of the top, the material of which the “tip” is made (when I was a kid, I found a compound of plastic or rubber worked best – of the kind skate-board wheels were made – can’t remember the name of the compound, but it was like a sticky “rubber-plastic”).
The tip of the thing was a hardened piece of steel, but it was surrounded and cushioned in this rubber-plastic formed in the shape of blunt-arrow tip.
It had a very long cord, and an instrument to hold it steady while force was applied to the string.
The thing would spin, and spin, and spin (and then, spin some more – absolutely amazing piece of engineering).
It was a thing of beauty, but always, always (unless I caught it), once it slowed, it would careen, out-of-control, its top-heavy mass forcing it to tumble not unlike the current economy.
We, as a global economy, seem to be at a momentary “lull” where things are not getting too much worse, and getting none-too-much better.
This is usually when the top would begin to careen.
Let’s hope somebody besides a bunch of zombie-esque, marijuana-craving and semi-stoned hippies and their brother malcontent union screws hell-bent on robbing the nation’s coffers through government “buy-back” programs is there to snatch the top before it starts to tumble (these rogues have proven that they are only “all about themselves” like a narcotic fiend craving his next fix).
Wouldn’t it be nice if from the ashes of these poor, dumb SOB’s that somebody with some sense would rise and lead this world out of the turmoil it now faces?
God speed the GOP (may the lumbering, sleepy elephant begin finally to trumpet, and to charge!).
I am a proud, Freemason.
I am the Master of my Lodge, for this year, Year of Our Lord, 2010.
Each and every time I attend our stated meetings, since my induction into our humble Lodge (Prudentia, No. 719 – fifteen LONG years ago), I have pledged allegiance to our Nation (One, Under God).
And each time I recite my pledge, I take special note (and privilege) of one, one very special, sixteenth-of-an-inch.
Freemasonry (and its perfection, it is said) can only be attained through degrees.
I have always taken special note, and pride, of a singular, sixteenth-of-an-inch.
The flag to which we pledge, the stars and stripes of our humble Nation, hangs opposite the Christian flag in our Lodge. It hangs singular against a pole, and is “furled” straight to ward the ground below.
Its seven, red- and six, white- stripes, and fifty-white stars in constellation set upon a blue (not the dark of night, nor the light of day, but the dawn of day-break or the dusk, of evening-tide) background all hold special, historic and dear significance to each of us who know its history (and more-especially, have not forgotten).
It is mounted to a pole, and hangs -regally straight- a full, one sixteenth of an inch from Mother Earth at the tip of her terminal corner.
Each and ever time I recite my pledge to my Nation (at least once per month), I take special note of that one, singular, sixteenth-of-an-inch.
I have been a Freemason for going on, some odd, fifteen years (or there-about).
I have pledged to that flag, once-per-month at each and every of our stated meetings (save for a couple of Presidential elections that have taken precedence for me over our stated, Tuesday-night meetings).
I have been regular in my attendance, and regular in my pledge to my Nation.
I have also taken regular note of that sixteenth-of-an-inch.
I would stop the world of Freemasonry were that flag ever to contact Mother Earth.
She hangs there, for some fifteen years that I have observed, and none (not one) of her fibers have ever loosened so as to allow her grace to commingle with the earthen filth.
Each time I take upon myself my pledge, I take note of that scant distance between her grace, and the filth of the ground.
I am reminded of that which separates both heaven, and earth.
It is a small chasm that separates her; but it is an eternal distance for the vigilant who in heart know of that which awaits the steadfast !
Our Nation, today, stands in that crux…that scant distance that separates grace, from ruin.
I believe, with all my heart, that with this same concept of equal regularity, that this distance does not have to “change”.
You know, change can have negative connotation (especially in context of our flag’s proximity to the ground, and the profundity this entails for a metaphor for the whole).
I believe that this is borne out in current event.
It is up to us, as stalwarts of our precepts, our guiding principles, and our mortal (and immortal) integrity, to stand guard against her grace being dragged through this pit of mire, and of mud.
It is my prayer that November will make all the difference in world, for all the World.
Grace, is a funny thing.
You will find it in the most, odd, of places.
China has shown us grace today.
They have shown us that they still have confidence in us, in spite of a lack of confidence that we have in ourselves (and most-especially, our current “leadership”).
The Union of Soviet Socialists have offered a gift of olive leaf in the form of a spy “exchange” (still not certain that the offer is full of salty savor, but it is a nice gesture, none-the-less, even when Bill Clinton’s arse hangs in that delicate balance).
From these two “world powers”, I believe there is immense significance for today’s events.
Perhaps only one-sixteenth-of-an-inch in worth, but oh what that meager distance can mean.
The world wishes to survive this massive and horrendous financial failure that has taken place due to what I believe is a lack of diligence in keeping a steadfast eye on that meager sixteenth.
It is only that sixteenth that separates us from the dyed-in-the-wool socialist.
It is “high” time for us to work together with this world to unite against a common enemy – that of world-wide financial depression.
The knee-jerk reaction to the onslaught of financial depression is far-too-often today that of continued strife and horrendously burdensome taxation, and of bloodshed, and of War (turn an eye to Europe for reference).
We can avert that fate!
It is time to come to terms with this world-wide depression, and face it with the economic precepts that have brought down a wall, and turned China into a financial power-house.
It is time to embrace the concept of capital., yet again.
We must abandon the radical hippie and His mind-set.
We must deal with the world through sound financial concepts (capitalist concepts) that have not only made our Nation great (in the not-so-recent past (Reagan, Bush and Bush), and in a 200-year track record preceding them), but has also born first fruit to the formerly, socialist world (that of China, and in part, the Soviets).
We must demonstrate to the world our confidence not only in our own tried-and-true capitalist philosophy, but also to those that have been borne out in both Russia and in China are maintained.
We must embrace that sixteenth-of-an-inch. We must be vigilant in maintaining it with exacting regularity, and we must demonstrate that we are “in” for the long haul.
We must also make one helluva severe “change” come this November.
The Preicipii calls upon this Nation to commit to a change that will bring us “back to the future”; we must abandon our recent divergence from our tried, and true principles, and re-embrace those to which China now expects us to maintain proper deference, both for their livelihood, and for that of the World-at-large.
It is incumbent, imperative really, that we maintain our vigilance in keeping those fibers of Red, White and Blue from ever reaching that chasm of muck and mire that our Mother Earth represents, along with the Utopian, Socialist lovers of the earthly realm .
Come November, we must see POSITIVE change (for a change).
May the Republican party, in a glory that is manifest in our great symbol of Freedom, in our Nation’s flag…may it once again place that flag in its position of both authority, and of sound, ethical and solid, capitalist ideology, and maintained ever-vigilant in that razor’s edge, one-sixteenth-of-an-inch.
I believe that the World must stop and ensure that this meager, singular, one-sixteenth-of-an-inch be forever and a day, maintained.
And I believe that We the People will only achieve that through the grace of our Lord, and through our incipient knack for eternally maintaining that one-sixteenth that separates us from utter chaos, annihilation, and ruin – in short, Obamanation.
Come November, vote Republican, and VOTE OFTEN !
Unkle Samson, Santy Kloss is a makin’ a list.
He (and his gestapo), they are checking it twice (2 x’s a teraflop, using their super-duper, super-computing checklist machine).
Through His state-sponsored, health-care system, He’s (they’re) gonna find out who has been naughty, and for whom the “niceties” are gonna roll.
Of course, cigarettes and those who partake of them will not be on the “good” (geeks call them “white”) lists.
But why stop there, prey-tell (and yes, I know that is more apt for a “preying” mantis…definitely not called that because their little front feet make them look like they are in a perpetual state of prayer – they are hunter-killers, like Santy’s health-CARE gestapo)?
Picture Unkle Samson, Santy with claws as a blood-sucking vampire with fangs. Instead of sucking blood, they suck the green out of your wallet (which leads to a lack of platelets from a lack of proper nutrition). Don’t worry, the money will go to help someone more deserving (and the state-sponsored health-care will define who those classes of people are too – probably the dumb-asses who vote for them, don’t you think?).
He’ll see you (with his big Bro Cam on ever street corner and red light you see), when you’ve been naughty, and when you’ve been nice.
He’ll see you when you eat that big piece of cake that is oh, so, NOT good for you!
He’ll see you when you wear those sporty sweaters made of radon-sucking, man-made (eek-ghads) fibers, spun in a factory that belches (again, eek-ghads and ho, ho, hum) Carbon DEBITS (the boon of ALL the known, little naughty ones).
You see, my pretties, the naughty little ones wear man-made materials (and consume them, like…genetically-engineered corn) and everyone knows it is bad, and that it is so (for Unkle Samson, Santy Klause produced a report from his BI-cameral house of BI-furcated pseudo-scientific politico hob-nobbins); therefore, anything having to do with man or the man-made by definition belches carbon DEBITS, ergo, IT must be STOPPED !
Even though you and the blessed yours weave earth-produced, earth-friendly COTTON (not man-made) fibers, your ass spins them on a spinning wheel. Carbon Credits you say?
What produces the energy for that spinning wheel?
What is Ghandi?
A carbon-based life-form.
What do carbon-based, bean-eating, lifeform energy factories produce?
Carbon Dioxide, methane, GREENHOUSE gasses.
You ARE a carbon DEBIT.
So much for producing earth-friendly diapers from earth-friendly plant life.
Oh yeah. Wait a minute. The plant that produces the cotton balls.
Carbon-based life form.
Damn. What does it produce when it dies and it decays?
Damn Ghandi, for a little narry-assed fella, you and yours produce one HELL of a Carbon Debit.
What about the hippies.
Hell, their asses live on communes and do this stuff.
Hundreds of them.
They produce all kins of carbon debits, what with their tofu-eating ways and all.
Let’s tax the SOB’s, Santy Klause.
Welcome to the club.
Carbon-based, Coal chunks for breakfast anyone? anyone? anyone?*
*(special thanks to Ben Stein, and Jeff Spicoli – beer-drinking, carbon-producing a-hole Carbon DEBIT).
***********************************IRONY OF THE DAY*******************************8
Obama accepts Nobel peace prize while committing his soldiers to an uncertain and tenuous (at best future) while the Russian test fire (and foul up) inter-continental missiles over, you guessed it NORWAY (the Nobel Prize is awarded in Oslo, Norway).
Now how peaceful is that?
Weird (or is it ?).
Ain’t it grand?
Narcissus thought so.
You remember that cat, don’t you? You know, the one from Bullfinches?
Bullfinch, you ask?
Yes, Bullfinches, you see, was (and probably is, for any who still read) the pentultimate collection of Greek Mythology.
If not, let me give you an example, (ahem…well, let my friend’s at “Real Clear Politics” give you an example from our recent history…back before all the hullaballo that goes on in the moment).
Perhaps next week we can talk of that cat who flew too close to the sun…now what was his name? Oh, yes, that Icarus fellow.
Now, there is some REAL globular warming!
(Say Albert…maybe when you and B.O. get finished polishing your Nobel Paprazzi Peace Prizes, and looking at your reflection in them, maybe the two of you will want to hop aboard Icarus Air and take a quick jaunt to see how well his wings of wax are holding up. While you are at it, you can give us all a status report on the solar flare activities and perhaps a ski report or two looking down from on high at one of the earliest ski resort record snows in history. Looks like it’s gonna be an icey one, fellas! Maybe you guys will want to re-think that whole “re-writing” history thing as well…huh, guys?).
I walked down to the lower 40 (probably about 40, square centimeters) to pick some tomatoes for my morning breakfast and noted the withering vine.
Of course, in part, it is owed to the time of year (although of the last several years I have been known to pick them Christmas day), but in most part, as are all things from the world of agrarian production, they are wholly (well, it would seem) dependent on the weather.
This global warming is of little concern to me this year, but everyone I know is talking of the incredible amount of rainfall we’ve encountered (in particular where it has affected our tomato crops – for we hillbilly’s LOVES our ‘maters).
Well, the lower, back-yard sits on what is known in some collective, socialist, root-kissing circles (root-kissers are the next evolution for tree-huggers) as a “blue waterway”.
Now, I’ve been here going on five years now, and normally the blue waterway is nothing more than dried clay. We have a wet year, and it becomes a mix of creek and swamp.
So, as you can see, too much water and the next thing I know my tomato crop is halved and my cypress trees begin to die.
It’s a soggy, boggy…suck! (like a root-kisser).
You pray for water as a farmer, but you don’t want to over-do your prayers.
Too much of a good thing.
A metaphor for the hedonistic yet morbidly vapid approach the spendthrift Dems take in “running” our great Nation (to its knees, actually) – a fruit that withers on the vine due to excess hydration is a prime example of “too much” liberal, socialist policy.
You wind up with rotten tomatoes.
I think the same principle applies to governing (in fact, all things farming are a form of governing; remember the terminology in its “exact” interpretation – to govern, after all, is to limit (as in a governor on an engine)).
in farming, you always want just the right mix of everything. This is the recipe for success.
Too much fertilizer and you burn the plants.
Too much water and they rot from the root up.
Too much sun…you get the picture.
I think we’ve had too much Obamanation, personally.
Too much socialism.
Point-in-fact; let’s paint a picture of a world where the Dems get all the socialist programs their hearts so madly (and recklessly) desire.
Can you imagine a glut of doctors and nurses in this country?
Well, under Obamanation, it is exactly what you’ll receive.
Once the programs are in place, medical universities will become clearing houses. They will pipe students through programs like, well…”pate de foie gras” through a goose.
That’s right, folks.
Our esteemed and hallowed halls will become indoctrination mills for up-and-comers from God-only-knows where.
I mean, how do you think they will handle the increased demand that their “give-away-health-care” will place on the society ?
When salt flows free, it ruins the flavor of food.
When a health-care system will provide your every need, we’ll even be expected to eat at the government fast-food houses.
Everything, and I mean literally everything, will be incorporated into the health-care system.
We’ll buy our groceries at hospitals.
Probably our smart cars (imagine just how those mean, old seat-belts affect your health) will be mandated as “USDA-approved as so-so-so GOOD FOR YOU!”.
If your neighbor barks at you because your dog is crapping in his yard – he (your neighbor) will be a candidate for “anger management” school (and, NO, he won’t have an option).
“It’s a mandate for improving our society”, don’t you know.
You’re probably sitting back saying, “Precipii, you’re over the edge on this one” – HELL YES, I stay over the edge.
I promised you when I started this blog that it would be edgy, and I hope I always live up to it (gotta release the talons sometimes to go on a hunger-hunt).
So, how would “plenty” kill a falcon? How does a falcon know when he’s had just about ENOUGH?
Eat too many rats provided from a “system” that gives you anything your heart desires, and even a falcon’s fat gut won’t take flight.
A falcon knows when to quit stuffing his gut with government propagated propagandai.
Can’t get off the ground? Stop eating at the government pig-sty.
This system is promising everything in the world, to anybody dumb enough to believe it.
It’s simply too good to be true, and it is put forth by a bunch of do-gooder Dems who always promise the moon and stars (and deliver nothing but more graft, greed and heart-ache for you and me).
Think “union” here (and all the wonderful, wonderful things those blue-collar bums have done for you and me, lately).
The reason I believe that capitalism will ultimately prove to withstand the maelstrom that is this Obamanomics, or socialist onslaught, or radical agenda (or whatever you want to call this “thing” that is the Obama-rovoltalution) is as obvious as the nose on your face…it is putrefying sin.
It is slothful, it is greedy, it is bloated on too much excess (and oh so too, excessively so).
Do you really believe that I will not plant tomatos again next year?
Or that farmers will re-plant corn after a rough year…or buy new hogs, or head’s of cattle, or sheep?
Life will go on, and so will the process of ex-change.
Next year, we may have the perfect mix of rain and sun, and fertile-fertile soil. If not next year, maybe the year after.
But, it will come again.
Every farmer knows this.
Whether you’re farming for beef, or for grain, or for ‘taters (or how about simply digging silicon up out of the ground) – whatever your racket, I guarantee you that capitalism assures you a plentiful crop once again in the future.
The dems run on running out.
Capitalism runs on faith that we’ll never run out.
It assures us that we will once again walk on the moon.
It assures us there will be brighter days (and no, it is not MY God…it is simply the plan that my God set before me – read your bible – it (capitalism) far, far pre-dates Marx, and Lenin, and Lennon – damned hippies and their sandal-wearing perversions).
And thus, the spirit of capitalist adventure, and of capital reinvestment (in some by-God something that makes sense – more so than a government-run any by-God thing), of the real hope that capitalism assures (with Adonai’s blessing, of course) – it will, once again (like my tomatoes) THRIVE!
Such is life in the agrarian world.
But such is life also, in the mechanized world of production.
It does compute!
You can count on it.
Capitalism will survive this massive onslaught that is (and has been) the Democrats “answer” to what ails us.
That’s really their problem, you know?
They think they know.
They do not.
They think they know our bodies better than we know them ourselves!
And how, you might ask?
They think they are God Almighty!
They’ve been conditioned to think this way.
It is in the spirit of “you can do anything” (reference what teachers and other polly-anna’s will tell ya anymore).
Well, if you can do anything, donkey, strap a rocket to your ass and fly yourself to the moon sans-capital.
Without money, you might make it to El Segundo.
We are tired of their damned shenanigans.
Tired of bills they’ve published, but never read.
Tired of incompetence, and most-of-all, double-dog tired of morons who have been indoctrinated and then turned loose on this social structure and government without an inkling of either good sense, or even (methinks) real ability to do their f***ing jobs.
That is the way of internet education (back in my day, it was related to receiving a doctorate through the mail from some institution with a high-sounding name like “Prince-Town U” or something).
Ah, it is a poor musician who blames his instrument (and God, how I do love the net).
I believe that government has proven itself highly capable of such acts in the past.
Look at what a joke our government has become (and is becoming).
Soon, by God, we will rival even France, or dare I say it? Quebec !
Now, the truth is, I believe there is probably a French underground (just like when Hitler was in charge), and I mean no ill-will toward the Francs. The fact is, I like the fellas (and their gals). Hell, one could make the case that I am part French (and probably, the better part).
But the fact also remains, that in our heart’s and minds, they represent a center of socialist “intellectual” thought, and this is why I pick on them (at them, really – it’s fast becoming a cliche).
Intellectualism can not be bound by some “old-country” thought.
But the fact remains, look at the examples set by others.
Look at the Nordsmen, or the Slavs, or the Ruskies, or the Chinamen for heaven’s sake.
Where on earth has socialism actually worked ?
So, what of abundance?
Well, when the money grows on the government tree, you can bet your bottom dollar (little as it will be worth) that not only will its value be in decline, but the value of everything else will be too.
This is the way of socialism.
Like my tomato plants, liberal application of water causes the plant to rot from the roots up.
This is what happens when kiss-slobber gets all over your roots.
Too much water (and too much groupie-love) will infect the whole body (and probably with more than just feel-good feelings – can you say “razor-blades” ???).
Like a social disease (and that is exactly what socialism is), too much of this “good thing” will cause the entity (you and me) to wither and die, just like my tomatoes (or worse; God, how I hate self-inflicted pain).
We really do not want to be forced to survive such nonsense.
Personally, I’ve simply just had – too much…Obama.
Pharaoh, let my people go.
You and yours, Sir, are simply, obviously, and patently…too, too much.
It is, simply put, time for moderation.
No ma can serve two masters. For ether he shall hate the one and love the other: or els he shall lene to ye one and despise ye other: ye can not serve God and mammon.
Well, the saying goes that you can’t serve two masters, so I guess it has deflated a few over-inflated egos this morning since we now have a new King.
Reminds me of yet another cliche-quote, “…long live the King” (redacted here to keep Echelon, and the whip of Big Brother Barack off’n my lil’ ol, hard-working and over-taxed back).
Some turnabout of “fair” play, huh?
What used to be a fat, cigar-chompin’ white guy in a straw hat has now metamorphed into, well, you get the picture.
Things have really “changed”.
Well, now we realize that even the straw boss is a servant to someone, somewhere.
The only difference is, this “someone” is actually a “something” – Mother Earth.
I remember my good professeur, “Space Ship Earth”, lil’ Tony Econ, 101. How he always used to call it, “space-ship, Earth”. wow.
Space Ship Earth.
Now, there is a concept.
Bet it made tingles run up his…well (if he had one).
At any rate, such is life for those who sell their souls to mammon.
The things of this earth.
I’m afraid that cap and trade is exactly that.
We have sold our souls already to abortion by allowing our taxes to fund even killing during and after delivery, and now we sell them for this hog-wash called “global warming”.
You will remember (for I never let you forget) that I come out of public relations school – flim flam.
Carpet-bagging, bonafied…”guaranteed” to get out your toughest stains, 100% pure – flim, flam.
Well, I guess that’s Obamageddon for ya, babee!
Open up your wallets, it’s going to be a rough ride.
There is a line from an episode of the 60’s sensational hit TV program “Batman” starring Adam West, that zany and sardonic look at everything kinda alternative, weird and quasi-perverse in the comic-book “kingdom” that I love to repeat.
To each his own, said the woman as she kissed her cow.
Batman probably said it to Robin as the Joker stroked his green beard, or as Burgess Meridith quacked his pointy nose.
The fact is, I’ve always tried to live my life as I feel I must, and leave others to live theirs as they choose.
I once calculated that as long as it did not infringe on my life and liberty, why should I concern myself with the way others live.
At essence, I suppose, I still believe this; but it is getting harder and harder to practice.
It would seem that in this day and age that when the lady kisses her cow, old lady spit mixed with cow-tongue slime somehow catches in the wind and is “blowing” its slobbering ways all over the place.
It’s getting on everybody, and frankly, I’m tired of it.
Oh, I know, the cow-kissing crowd is probably screaming right now “get used to it, you old poo-poo”.
But what if I don’t want to?
In this day and age, people seem to want to equate Christ’s teachings solely with an “open-ness” to all things around you.
To hear it told, the only way to be a good Christian in the modern age is to “get used to it, you old poo-poo”.
Well, I seem to remember Christ drawing a line in the sand.
Boundaries are important, and respecting them, perhaps, even more so.
So, what constitutes the Christian?
One could, I suppose, reduce it to hand jestures.
Or, perhaps, a “spirit of open-ness”.
I suppose it could be “cooked down” to a friendly hug, or a sympathetic ear.
One might even equate it to sandals and long hair.
Now I myself was taught that being a Christian is defined by your acceptance of Christ as your savior, and beyond that, proclaiming that fact.
Telling the world that you are a Christian.
Now where, pray tell, in that is there a dictum that says I have to “get used to” old-lady-cow slobber getting stuck in my chin hairs?
Now, I can surely ignore the kissing (painfully close to bestiality as it is), but I’m not too fond of the extra (and equally unwelcome) conditioners and moisturizers added to what was once already a luxurious goatee.
Keep the spittle to yourself, and mind the boundaries.
So, on the subject of worship.
Let’s just say, for giggles, that we get all open-minded.
Would it be too obvious to state that melting all our gold and casting a statue of a calf named Baal would be too painfully close to idolatry?
I mean, we are all open-minded about everything, right?
Would it still be Christian if we pretended the cow was sanctified in the holy spirit?
I mean, we are all open-minded, right?
At what point does worship no longer resemble what Christ had in mind?
If two or more of us gather in the name of Baal, is Christ anywhere at hand?
The line in the sand is plain, and so are our Savior’s words…”those who are with me, are with me, and those against me are against me”.
There is no grey area here.
On either side, there is only dust.
But in that line, struck in that sand, there is a solid foundation. It is in that line that the boundary is formed.
When two or more gather in His (Christ’s) name, Christ is there.
So, you see, open-mindedness is not necessarily all it’s cracked up to be.
Now I am still very much interested in letting sleeping lions be…and I’m interested in keeping peace by ignoring what my neighbor does with her barnyard critters (as long as it is kept from the sight of my children – I really don’t want them kissing cattle).
At any rate, I’m thinking better of “to each his own” – there is just too much slobber in the wind.
You know dreams are a double-edged sword.
Flowing in one direction, the sword cuts a swathe out to the front in a gallant acts of bravery; in the other, it results only in suicide.
One must therefore use extreme care in the art of sword-wielding.
In the West we have “fictionalized and glamorized” what we perceived as a “sacrificial” rite of that nation of the “divine wind” – that of “hara kiri” (Hollywood gets it wrong on all counts (as usual), pronouncing it “hair-ee cair-ee” and touting it as something practiced by warriors who failed in their missions, rather than the truth that it was something bound for disgraced politicians).
I awoke this Sunday morning thinking about the death of dreams.
I’ve never had much use for dreamers and dreaming myself. Oh, sure, I have some – but I’ve always tried to stay grounded in reality.
For instance, right now I am dreaming of what to do about this hunger in my belly.
Now, quick as I finish this article, that dream is going to become actualized.
I’ll cook breakfast, and fill my aching gut (like it needs any ‘filling’).
There is a lesson in that. Over-feed a dream, and it turns to fat.
That’s why, for me anyway, it is so important to live not in what might be, but in “what is”.
Back to that sword analogy, when you are waving it out in front of you, it can clear a path for you on the open battlefield, but when you consider the case of Leonidas at Thermopylae where he faced an enemy legion at a bottle-neck that lie between a steep cliff and the sea (literally between a rock and a hard, place), it takes on a different connotation.
The fallen enemy stacked like cord wood and blocked any hope of forward advancement.
Such is life when you have narrowed your options, or applied local “rules” to the entire universe (they don’t always apply in every situation).
But he did achieve the objectives of stalling the enemy, as well as thinning the legion. He also actualized his own demise (and given that he knew this, he also knew it would be his end).
Could one then call this a “proper” suicide?
The Japanese leaders who committed it, did so in disgrace.
Leonidas dies in a pitched battle to protect his own.
Both are equally dead, and both had “knowledge and afore-thought” to venture into legalese.
Did you know that in our legal system, it is considered homicide because one who commits it is “murdering oneself”. Plug that scenario into a detective show. I can see it now…”what was his motive”, “well hollyweird officer, it looks like he wanted to kill himself”.
This truly a dark subject for such a beautiful morning.
You know, the Japanese fought under the banner of the rising sun. I took note this morning of a lovely sunrise over the hills of my home.
Rather than get all poetic about everything, I think I’ll just go make that breakfast I’ve been dreaming about. I’ll do like the bible says, live in the moment, and trust that the meals will come again, just as that sunrise.
Of course, it is hard to forget that there is another dreamer who also wields a sword; an ambitious dreamer who only this morning took a swipe at that rising sun.
And now the response is to rely on Ronald Reagan’s “dream” (a vision, really – based on insight and preparedness – not on poetry).
To quote my childhood hero, Bugs Bunny, “Ain’t it ironic”.
So, you see, I’ve never really been too awfully cozey with dreams and dreamers.
I guess it is ok to dream, but my belly is telling me to get off my arse and actualize this one over a hot stove and the reward that comes from the effort.
Here’s to dreaming, California (how do you like your peace now, hippies?).
You hold a top in your hands.
Now, you may not be from a generation that understands what a “top” is, but for the purpose of this excercise let’s just say that it is a spinning “toy”.
Now, there are many varieties, but the one you hold is based on technological advances, or changes in design, that are across millenia.
It is heavy. Its mass is concentrated. You just know it will spin for ever.
The pull string is long and wound around its length, and at its tip is a sharpened point that looks to be made of some high-tech material that you are sure is titanium or depleted uranium or some other exotic material with properties designed to keep this top spinning.
You pull the string and you let the top go across the hard, flat surface of the floor.
The top has gone from an idle mass to a powerful force of spinning fury.
It is smooth; ghost-like. It “wafts” across the floor, and there is this sound…”zzzzzzzzzzz” – smooth as a sewing machine at full tilt.
Speaking of tilt, it may lean a little, but then it rights itself.
Probably has to do with the earth’s rotation, or the surface of the floor (or a combination – atmospheric conditions such as breeze and thermal lift may affect it too).
It is a system within a system. A top speed, it simply is a thing of beauty.
From an idle mass in your hand, it is transformed…changed, to a lithe ballet in pierrot across the floor.
You introduced force into this idle mass when you pulled its string. You set it in spinning motion, but now it seems to glide of its own accord.
But wait !
Its energy seems to dissipate. It is slowing down.
You notice a slight wobble.
Signs of a death lurch begin.
It tumbles, it scoots and the smooth sounds become stachatto.
It bounces across the floor and eventually its fattened sides catch on the floor’s surface and it begins to rip and tear across infinity.
What was once a thing of beauty becomes a vile death thro, a system undone, a violent outburst from what was once a ballerina.
It rips across the floor and spins on its side tearing everything up in its path.
Violent, sudden and massive…change.
In the course of mere moments the object went from an inanimate mass, to a spinning thing of beauty, and then, to a wreckless monster.
It is a complex system, when broken down to its components.
Complicate this by considering three such tops operating in the cone of a rocket headed for mars. They spin to keep the missile on course, and to prevent its careening through space like the top as it looses its energy.
It becomes vital that change be kept to a minimal…that it be guarded closely, and that energy is applied to keep it in “stasis” so that things do not evolve into catastrophe.
NASA is able to navigate the infinite recess of space by ensuring that radical changes do not take place, and further, by having contingency plans for when they do.
As we all know from the space shuttle disasters, sometimes even that is not enough.
But considering, their track record is pretty good. They apply sound principles to maintain this level of “stasis” (think of it as harmony, like the spinning top when at its glory of mass, direction, velocity and attitude).
The principles work, most of the time.
If you have seen the movie “Apollo 13” you will remember the scene where the ship begins to careen like the spinning top and one of the crewmen applies “jets” of energy released through the mini-rockets to regain a smooth flight. He forces energy into the system to “right” the ship and get it back on a controlled trajectory.
If you are still with me, you are probably wondering what this all has to do with politics and our current situation.
Think about it.
Our economy is looking like that top that has lost its path. It is careening, because someone is applying pressure at the wrong points.
The crew of Apollo 13 applied force to the system with the rocket bursts to bring the missile back into a proper flight path to once again “dock” with planet earth.
They did not apply the force hap-hazard and try and plunge this spinning top of a space-craft into even greater tumult. The objective was not to force the ship to become like the top that is loosing its energy, but rather like a bullet spinning on a straight path and headed directly for its objective – spaceship earth.
The question for our economy then becomes, what is the ulitmate destination?
We know that under conservative directives and principles, we maintain a steady path that is concentrated in capital.
The introduction of socialism into our system has forced it into a wobble that needs the introduction of a series of “jets” of capital in order to correct it.
Our nation’s economy is just like the complex system within the space capsule. It is kept on course using three spinning tops, or “gyros” to keep it on path. Combine this with the retro-rockets (normally computer-controlled) and the tiny flea fleck makes its way home, safe and sound.
Oh there are complex forces working on it, with massive bodies pulling it here, and asteroids tugging it there; but there are counter-balances that keep it on course. Add the ship’s captains to this and it becomes and even more stable system.
One needs only to look at a system whereby change is controlled, versus a system that is out-of-control to understand what has happened to our great nation in the past few months.
We simply need to re-think how the controls are being applied (and, perhaps, give the captain of the ship a wake-up call).