This category contains 10 posts

One-Sixteenth, of an inch

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 !

Speak! (but don’t listen)

So I catch this Connie Shultz on C-SPAN this morning talking about Dick Cheney.

She says that if he’s a real patriot that he should shut up.

I got pissed, got up and poured a cup of coffee and come back to hear her telling one of the Demonrat callers what they should do to counter the opinions on the right.

She tells them to write their congressmen, to right letters to the editor and to start blogs.


We should simply shut our mouths so that they can be heard whining and moaning some more.


Just like a Demonrat to stand up for our Constitution, but only when it is convenient to their causes.

Well, I’m here to tell ya, I ain’t shuttin up.

I hope Cheney doesn’t shut up either.

Hell, I even encourage every one of you – let YOUR voices ring out.

Don’t be stifled by these bastards on the left.

They want to control everything from the boardroom to the bathroom (reference BO’s CEO “implants” at the helms of banks and auto manufacturers, or old Cousin Al Gore’s six-gallon toilet that won’t even flush one of my little pooches contributions to the environment).

(For “more gore on Gore” see 1, 2, 3, 4).

These people are arrogant scum who think that they (and their lousey opinions) are all that matters.

It is high time to let them know different.

At every opportunity, let them know what you think.

You do still matter, in spite of their self-righteous opinion.

The Measure of Audacity

They say that one method of tackling a problem is to start with a definition (and, of course, an assumption that there IS a problem).

So, let’s proceed, with audacity –


Browse the words alphabetically around “audacity”
See entries that contain “audacity”
Syllables: au-dac-i-ty
Return to top of entry Part of Speech noun
View pronunciation guide Pronunciation

aw dae sih ti

Inflected Forms audacities
Definition 1. courage or boldness, esp. when somewhat overconfident, reckless, or arrogant; daring.
Synonyms daring , courage , bravery (1) , fearlessness {fearless} , boldness {bold (4)}
Crossref. Syn. presumption
Similar Words mettle , recklessness {reckless} , hardihood , balls , spunk , grit , valor , ballsiness {ballsy} , overconfidence {overconfident} , resoluteness {resolute}
Definition 2. bold or shameless impudence; brashness; insolence; effrontery.
Synonyms impudence (1) , gall1 (4) , brashness {brash (1,2)} , presumption (4) , impertinence (1) , insolence (1,2) , effrontery (1,2)
Crossref. Syn. nerve
Similar Words arrogance , hardihood , sauciness {saucy} , assertiveness {assertive} , cheek , brassiness {brassy1} , brass , brazenness {brazen (adj)} , forwardness , lip
Definition 3. a statement, action, or the like, that exhibits such courage or impudence.
Synonyms derring-do , impertinence (3)
Crossref. Syn. effrontery
Similar Words arrogance , hotheadedness {hotheaded} , rudeness {rude} , lip
Related Words courage , temerity

©2002 Wordsmyth


I woke this morning with the thought concerning the measure of audacity.

Most everything can be measured, right?

If I am apprehensive, for example, there may be degrees of apprehension.  For example, the trepidation I feel about going to a haunted house on halloween is probably a whole lot less than that of going into surgery to have my spleen removed.

I know I may be frightened in the haunted house, but rationally I know that it is all in fun.

Not so with the surgery.

So, there are degrees of apprehension.

I suppose it would follow that there can be degrees of audacity.

Notice the synonym list in the definition from Wordsmyth (above) ?


Now that has some connotation in the present “focus” on the word.

I believe there is a great deal of presumption going on in B.O.’s “Audacity of Hope”.  I think there is a presumption of hope going on here, and the presumptuousness is creating some rather hopeless-looking situations.

There is a presumption that the hope placed in socialist ideology is going to make what was once a great nation into an even bigger and better nation.  The numbers do not seem to bear that out.

I was educated at the knee of management by results (proof, being in the “taste and texture” of the pudding).

Let’s look at some numbers.  Maybe we can glean some form of measurement from some data (don’t all statisticians and scientists love data?).

These number are taken post-audacity of hope:

  • Unemployment – 8%
  • Stock Market (closing bell, Friday March, 6, 2009)


NASDAQ over time

NASDAQ over time

  • Consumer Confidence:



Here’s one we haven’t heard much about of late –

  • Housing Starts (duh) –


Did you by any chance take a gander at those “similar” words in the definition above?  Let’s look at a few, shall we?

mettle , recklessness {reckless} , hardihood , balls , spunk , grit , valor , ballsiness {ballsy} , overconfidence {overconfident} , resoluteness {resolute}

Now, what can we deduce when we look at the pudding, tasting the pudding, and then measuring those results against what we set out to achieve prior to the application of audacious cooking prowess in what we had at that earlier date then expected of the pudding?

Audacity begins to look reckless when the pudding tastes like sawmill grit.

It begins to look like overconfidence.  It begins to take on the qualities of those not-so-nice meanings.

Shakespeare asked the question “What’s in a word.”†

It is his contention that it is the characteristics of the item named that lends its name true meaning.  Like the smell of the rose (or the taste of the pudding).

Now it seems patently obvious to me that there must be a sliding scale here.

Teddy Roosevelt’s audacity simply worked for him.  Charging San Juan hill, taking on powerful bankers and power brokers of his day.

He brings about the meanings “grit”, “spunk”, “valor” and “resoluteness” that have a more positive nature.

He charged, and he won, and for it, he is celebrated.

The rose smelled sweet, and the pudding was delectable.  It smelled and tasted like success.

It was a “hit”.

It is most unfortunate that today’s audaciousness does not carry the same effect.

I like the quote from the Bible “Salt, where is thy savor”.

When it loses its saltiness, it is no longer of use as a flavoring.  It becomes only grit (and apparently one that can never regain its flavor – I have the real audacity to hope such is not the case for America).

This is where I think the road diverges.  Teddy had both the savor, and the grit.

The modern meaning is one of grit without any flavor – and it is simply rubbing everybody, raw and leaving a terrible, terrible after-taste.

To be precise:

“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet.”

Romeo and Juliet (II, ii, 1-2)

Luke 13:34 King James Bible
“Salt is good: but if the salt have lost his savour, wherewith shall it be seasoned?”

So maybe I should back off a little…

Someone I really respect indirectly made me think about the content here on “The Precipice”.

He talked about how the politics of personal destruction needs to end in Washington.

I can agree with him, in principle, but you know, we conservatives have been taking it on the chin for a long time.

First it was Churchill (over the pond) when the whole country was against him (twice – once when young, and once when PM AFTER the war).

Then it was Barry Goldwater, followed by Nixon, Reagan, Quayle and now Bush.

I don’t know. Do you think if I back off on all the personal comments here on the Precipice that those lousy, yellow heel-hound Dems would then remove their nasty, little teeth from our ankles?

I doubt it.

Oh, I know it is the high road. I’d probably be a better man if I did not stoop to such levels.

Personally, I just wish a man would step up to the plate and give the Dems the “what for”.

I mean, this is the way they fight. They are the street fighters of political discourse. There is no finesse fighting them – no holds barred, and they set the low bar for this.

So what does anyone expect? For us to simply lay down and take it?

Perhaps this fellow of which I speak is correct. He says that we should fight based on policy issues, no personal destruction.

I can’t argue with that. It is wise.

But I have to tell ya, when the policies are affecting me on such a very personal level, I feel like getting personal with those policy makers.

When their policies stink, I think the stench emanates from a putrefied set of values and that those values emanate from within the man himself – therefore, both policy, and man, stink.

So, because I respect this individual so, I will make a concerted effort to no longer make this so very, very personal. I will try and stay above-board, and stay away from any dirty tricks.

Now, like a drunk or a sex fiend, I will probably have some difficulties staying on the wagon (not that I know anything about what it must be like to be either – merely speculating here); but from what I’ve seen in the movies, heroin addicts have a tough time staying off the junk.

I have a feeling that I will have a hard time keeping my comments about Pelosi, Reed, Obama, Clinton and all the rest of the DC equivalent of the Crips and Bloods on a high plane, but I will try.

So no more comparing B.O.’s admin to the scum that lies at the bottom of a cess pool; no more jibes at Pelosi and that “hammer” she likes to weild; and no more comparing Schumer to the anus of a gnat (with brains to match).

Gonna stay away from it.

“Not gunna do it”.

No sir, I’m turning over a new leaf in the new year. A big leaf. A big leaf that had formerly been hiding what lies underneath – a big **** .

No more acting like one of those, no sir.  Gonna get on the straight and narrow, yes sir.


♣ ♣ ♣ ♣

In keeping with the new policy of no more “personal destruction”, I will simply say this – boy, that Obama, he’s really all about “change” isn’t he?  Dollars to donuts says he will constantly change like a chameleon trying to find the combination that will work for him, and never achieve the results he’s looking for.

This is what happens when you buy a Presidency (or sell a Senate seat); you wind up with a dog that has “caught” the car, and is now trying to figure out just where to bight it.

For America’s sake, I am praying for a GOP-controlled Congress, and just as soon as we can get it there!  We need some leadership that is not going to be in a constant “scramble” mode, but rather, one that focuses on solutions that actually “solve” our problems.


The God-less Man Leaves Yale

There is somewhat of a seeming paradigm shift that takes place when the son of a conservative icon jumps ship as did Christopher Buckley.

It is, of course, troubling.

Two of the best books I’ve read and that have gone far to shape my political beliefs are “God and Man at Yale” and “Up From Liberalism”.  Your Father, Sir, was an immortal great in my view of things.

When I hold this event in the light of how many of my generation that I have witnessed selling their father’s farms, I suppose I can understand (I wouldn’t do it myself, but I understand the motives).

Poor bastard’s gotta get by somehow, I suppose.

Greed and rebellion seem to play a part (and you have joined with the vestige of that stellar generation who turned from their parents – those peace-lovin’ hippies).  Guess it just figures, eh?

Perhaps, though, it is ideological, as you assert.

For me, I think Obama makes McCain look like Churchill in comparison. I do not think, even in the least, that Obama could possibly turn right, and worse, I do not think he will turn to the center.

He is a radical leftist. He is surrounded by radical leftists. They only seek the fulfillment of their agenda (and to hell with the costs).

You can see it in their cavalier attitudes (reference his “dis” of Mrs. Reagan).

Gay marriage, post-birth abortion, emasculation, knee-pad pacifism – you name it, these guys are all-about-it.

I am happy that as an individual, they will never bring me to my knees.  I will not sell my soul to their devilish way.

But, you want to know what troubles me the most Mr. Buckley? In your fifth “answer” in the Financial Times, when asked if the GOP can separate itself from religion, you state that, and I quote

“CB: This is a key question, to which I very much hope that the answer is yes. Remember what Burke said (I shall now proceed to misquote him): “I believe neither in permanent defeats or permanent victories.” My late father (WFB, Jr) once said to me, “I have spent my entire life trying to separate the Right from the kooks. Let’s hope the next WFB, whoever he may be, will be successful.”

It appears from your answer that you agree with those who would like to separate “God from man” (as those stinking Yaleys your Father wrote about in the 1950’s).

And you wish to assert that the “kooks” have taken over the Right?

I would assert that God has abandoned the “kooks” in your “perceived” world of academia and all that rates as intellectual (now that the Nobel prize has been reduced to the People’s Choice award chosen by those people who watch “Big Brother” and reality TV – is it really any wonder that intellectualism in your hearts has died right along with any recognition of the Almighty).

I will tell you in no uncertain terms that I believe you and your ilk have aligned yourselves with your own version of the golden calf.  This calf, unlike Baal, has no identity of his own; he is as nondescript, pale and white-washed as Warhol’s anemic, albino ass.

I’m am praying with all my heart that you SOB’s are truly limited to 15 minutes in the sun (the truth of daylight would probably seer your heartless souls).

Oh, I know what you are all thinking “here goes another one of those simpletons, clinging to his guns and his bible”…

But, I tell you, you rotten SOB’s – I have not forgotten what is important.

God is still a part of my life (even if He may in fact be boarding the last train departing D.C.).

It is one thing for you to turn your back on the Grand Old Party as you have so done in such grand scale…but to even turn against our God? What could possible befall a man?

This slithers below even the bottom-crawling belly of what constitutes the low mark of the profane.

There can be no doubt in my mind that there must a challenge to you, and to those with whom you align yourself – and I am most willing to meet that challenge.

I for one know in my heart that righteousness will prevail in the face of the haughty hordes of those leftist hate mongers, those among the God-less baby killers.

Smile now, you ingrates.  Your day is coming.

God may have left Yale in the 1950’s, but He still prevails in the hearts of the Huckabee’s, the Palins, the Bush’s, the Nixon’s and the Reagans (and, by-God, me).

I tell you in no uncertain terms, He prevails in my heart, and the heart of my party.

While you can laugh as you turn your back on the GOP (and apparently on God as well), you must never forget that our principles start with our beliefs.

I am not ashamed of my religion, but I am ashamed of those who pervert it so.

Conservative (and even Capitalist) principles find a heart and soul in the Holy Bible.

We are taught how to handle our money, how to treat our fellow man, and why it is so important to remain faithful and never turn our backs on our creator, or our friends.

What you have done is representative of what I believe to be the character of those you join.

You are in good company, Mr. Buckley.

It is my sincere hope that you remain there in your self-made purgatory with the ranks of the Rockefellers, the Hillary Rodham-Clintons, and the Benedict Arnolds (all turn-coats in their own right).

There can be no rest for those who turn against all that is principled, all that is Holy and all that is kin.

So, Mr. Buckley, I will cling to my daddy’s farm.  I will cling to my dog-eared bible, and to the well-worn clips that have cycled through my guns like atoms in chain reaction.

You and yours have already proven your mettle.

While you and yours may have abandoned your principles and your God, it is my sincere prayer that God never abandon you as the anointed “leaders” of my beloved country.

Vercingetorix’ Last Stand

“…and the last, great act of this once, invincible warrior, was to send away his horses, to save them from death in this, his final battle.”
Falconi, on Veringetorix

Vercingetorix is one of my all-time favorite characters from my (limited) knowledge of history.  Those of you who have been reading my vitriol since inception will recall my mention of him in the past.

It is remarkable to me how great men can rise, and then out of some sort of whacked-out wiring in their brains or hearts, “screw the pooch” at the last second.

Verscingetorix (“Verci.”) was a tactical and military genius.  He was, perhaps, the best ever.  I’m not kidding.  To look at what he accomplished during his life (as a warrior) rivals anything, anywhere and anytime, and by any one (this includes both you, Phillipe de Macedonia, et vous, Constantine).

He got “long-in-the-tooth” or something.  He didn’t really fall on his sword, ala some Samurai or American Civil War General via “suicide by battle” — but rather, he seems to have simply gotten sloppy.

I have no other explanation.

It has happened to other great military thinkers and political leaders (Ghingus Khan, Atilla and Czar Nicholas all come to mind, as well as Jimmy Carter) – but what is the cause?

I’ll tell you what I think (was there any doubt) – I think “great” men have a tendency to rest on their laurels or become far too comfortable with their reputations, agendas, creeds, or astounding self-assurance in their own self-righteousness (guess I might have to get accustomed to using the phrase “street cred” here).  They have a tendency to get so over-confident in their shrewd, mental and physical capacity that they lose sight of why they ever started down the path of warfare/leadership in the first place.

Some say, it is for a bigger piece of the pie, others for philosophical reasons; still others attribute it solely to the human psyche and that fatal mental flaw, ego.

I’m pretty simplistic in my approach to fighting and leading…it is a part of life.

Sperm fight to get to the egg.  The strongest “lead” the others there, but it is he alone with the tenacity to deflower the old gal and start his life anew (God help the poor sap).  There is but one victor in this battle.  Only one lives; only one survives.

And thus it starts.

We begin life by fighting like hell for a goal (one where only the strongest survive) and we continue that path throughout the rest of our measly and pathetic existence.

Such is life.

But, back to Versi.

Some of you may know his story.  That final battle — where he turned his horses lose out of respect for what the beasts meant to him in battle — it was that final battle that sealed Verci’s fate for all perpetuity, and secured the fate of another in the anals of histoi.

And thus it goes.

One man wins, one civilization loses (big time).

No one, I’d bet (save for the most intrepid historians) can tell tell you even who Verci’s people were.  Most people (including a LOT of “historians”, can not even tell you who Verci was).

This is the way of politics and fighting (not to mention the constant and incessant “re-writes” of history).

Whole civilizations are won and lost in singular battles.

Of course, Verci’s story ends, and ends in a tragedy of Aristophanean proportion.

Here was a man poised to completely shape all the rest of time to come.  Here was a man who dominated ALL of civilization in his day.

Here was a man, who in his arrogance, was “choked out” by the oldest trick in the book, an act committed by a snot-nosed, young-puke, field officer with hardly any battlefield experience.

This brash, young leader committed the ultimate in “bone-headed” mistakes (fighting the Russians in Winter, over-running your supply line, underestimating your enemy) — by splitting his force into thirds against a position held by a superior force, and in a physical location that was tactically superior to his own (everyone knows it is much easier to shoot down the hill, than “up”).

Verci had (to coin a phrase from American Westerns) “holed in” high atop a ridge.

Tactically, it was exactly what one would want to do…advance (or retreat) to a superior position (you see how it helped the fine, fine folks at Meggido)…he actually thought that his reputation was such that no one would DARE attack him there.  And he was absolutely correct.

No one did.

A young, new field officer made the tactical “mistake” of a lifetime.  In fact, one that would shape the rest of his life (such that it was***).  In any other battle, against any other adversary, it would have spelled for him sure death, absolute defeat.

But against an arrogant, self-righteous (and completely self-actualized) Vercingetorix, he made a name for himself that would go down in history as one of histories true “greats” – an immortal among mere mortals, and so much ink on a page.

That young officer split his forces.  He divided them in thirds.  He surrounded Verci’s “high horses” (and even higher (read arrogant) position).

He starved out Verci’s forces by cutting off the supply lines to the high vantage Verci and his troops established and held; and Verci lost his final battle with no horses to ride…hand-to-hand combat by a force of starved soldiers essentially tumbling down their precipice to that ultimate doom that awaited them in the fiery depths of battle, way down below.

I wonder what he might have thought as he stumbled down that ridge to face this contingent of green (and fat) Roman troops in that, his final hoorah?  I probably would have thought “well, it was a good ride, for what it was worth – may my death come quick, and in battle”.

But, alas, poor, poor Verci was spared a death in battle only to be captured by the young Roman, and later, in humiliation, strangled before his enemy.

And what of that young, brash solider?

Well, we all know what happened to him, (eh, Brute?).  (If unsure, be certain to scroll on down for the “beginning of his end”, at the end of this piece, and perhaps, this column, thank God).

So here’s to you Verci.  Here’s to you, “brash, young field puke”***, and to you, Shakespeare*** and to you, Falconi (and even to you, whoever you may be, “winner of the election on Tuesday”).

It’s damned sure “been a good ride”.

Hold on to your horses, ladies and gents, I think we will assuredly need them, and quite soon (just don’t retreat to a high point of arrogance, if you please).

And make damned sure you have angel’s wings before you start “flying” down that precipice face.

(!!!!!!!!!!! scroll down for more from this “captivating” saga !!!!!!!!!!)



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Mar. Wherefore rejoice ? What conquest brings he home ? What tributaries follow him to Rome, To grace in captive bonds his chariot-wheels ? You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things !

O you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome, Knew you not Pompey ? Many a time and oft Have you climb’d up to walls and battlements, To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops, Your infants in your arms, and there have sat The live-long day, with patient expectation, To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome : And when you saw his chariot but appear, Have you not made an universal shout, That Tiber trembled underneath her banks, To hear the replication of your sounds Made in her concave shores ? And do you now put on your best attire ? And do you now cull out a holiday ? And do you now strew flowers in his way That comes in triumph over Pompey’s blood ? Be gone ! Run to your houses, fall upon your knees, Pray to the gods to intermit the plague That needs must light on this ingratitude.

Flav. Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this fault, Assemble all the poor men of your sort ; Draw them to Tiber banks, and weep your tears Into the channel, till the lowest stream Do kiss the most exalted shores of all.

[Exeunt all the Commoners See whether their basest metal be not moved ; They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness. Go you down that way towards the Capitol ; This way will I : disrobe the images, If you do find them deck’d with ceremonies.

Mar. May we do so ? You know it is the feast of Lupercal.

Flav. It is no matter ; let no images Be hung with Cæsar’s trophies. I’ll about, And drive away the vulgar from the streets : So do you too, where you perceived them thick. These growing feathers pluck’d from Cæsar’s wing Will make him fly an ordinary pitch, Who else would soar above the view of men And keep us all in servile fearfulness. [Exeunt

Act I, Scene I. Rome. A street.
Flavius, Marullus, and certain Commoners

At the very onset of the play, “Julius Cæsar“, by William Shakespeare, ~1601.

from The Complete Works of William Shakespeare: Arranged in their chronological order: with an introduction to each play, adapted from the Shakespearean primer of Professor Dowden Vol Two; ed. W.G. Clark and W. Aldis Wright, Nelson Doubleday, Inc., Garden City, New York (no date for this edition within its printed page).


Def. Obamageddon – “Oh-BAMA-geddon”

Obamageddon – phoenetic pronounciation guide: “Oh-bæmÂ-gεddon”, or, in Chicago – “Oh-BOMB-Â-gεddon” (use “street” style for effect).

def: 1 a: To completely destroy one society and way of life in favor of another that has proven a complete failure in other nations b: to “play the fiddle as Rome burns”, but more, as so fiddling, to then pour gasoline on the fire 2 a: to consider oneself a messiah or god, and then play god with people’s lives  b: to use every dirty trick in the book to swallow up more power, such as economic warfare, class envy/warfare and psych-ops designed to mis-characterize capitalism as evil, when in fact it is people who manipulate capital through organizations such as ACORN who are evil c: to have a psychological state closely associated with delusions of grandeur or megalomania d: think “Lord of the Flies” (1234 (not to blow my own horn, but check the date on No. 4 – I’ve had B.O.’s # for a LONG time; no fringe fruitcake* here), or “The Bacchae” (123)  3 a:  to completely isolate and subjugate one group of people in favor of another group of people; sometimes associated with “reverse discrimination” b: discrimination.


I don’t have to remind any of you drinkers out there who “Baccus” was (and here’s to him).

Bottom line…take Ann Coulter’s advice – get drunk and vote McCain (I already did) – but here is Precipii’s corollary – if BO does win the Presidency, STAY DRUNK (it will be the only way you’ll be able to handle the stench, and should it make you sick-to-your-stomach, at least you’ll have some alcohol on your gut to make the experience all semi-worthwhile).

A list of Fringe Fruitcakes (compare these to The Precipii).

All up in your face

(proof positive that higher order creatures have yet to crawl up from the muck and mire of the “pea soup” (more like pond scum) from which they are supposedly destined to spring)

I originally published the following piece a week ago…that night, I tossed and turned and thought it might be incendiary (read “incitement of riot”); but on further reflection I decided I wasn’t giving my reader enough credit.

You will not incite riot by punching someone who is all “up in your face”; you will be protecting your (and my) right to “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness”.

Right now, Obama and his bunch of maggot-infested hippie-assed Manson family followers are the one’s inciting others to punch them in the face.  The way I see it, I’m not inciting, I’m protecting – a constitution and a way of life that I believe in.

So, bring it on, you filthy hippies.

********begin story*********

It would seem that there is a new leader in this nation who is encouraging his own troops to “get all up in people’s faces”.

Well, here’s what I have to say about that.

When I was taking law classes in college, I learned that there is one time that you are justifiable under all legal systems within the United States to literally knock somebody’s teeth down their throat.

If once, and ever once you feel (even slightly so) that your right to, and I quote, “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness” is being infringed…I implore you all, gentle readers, knock their blocks off.

This is a free country, and you have the right to live free, and unencumbered by people who wish to be “all up in your face”.

You have diplomatic immunity.

It is a “get out of jail free” card.

Anyone gets “all up in your face” and you feel your right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness is being impinged (or infringed), then, go for it big guys and girls.

Give ’em a knuckle sandwich.  Let them feel their own teeth locked up in their own anus’ (cause if my rights are infringed, I’m gonna hit them so hard it will knock their entire family into next week – God help where their teeth end up).

So, bring it on, “in your face-ers”.

We’ll all be waiting for ya (keeping our lights on for you, and then knocking yours out).

Here’s looking at you, kids!

On Fear and Frenzy


They illicit so much in the human psyche, and at wit both add to and detract from the human condition.




To me, these words signify a certain level of the latter.  When carried out, they most certainly detract not only from the human condition, but detract the condition itself.  You’ve heard, I’m sure, the adage that there is a cure for what ails ya (but death, for me and I think most, is hardly a “cure”, even if the curing process is soon to follow).

I’d much prefer, I think, to remain upright and taking nourishment.  But then, I will have that darned global warming to worry about.




Words that conversely convey warmth, caring and safety. When worthily used (and more, in deed rather than merely spoken) they demonstrate to the naked ape that he (or she) is to find comfort here – a place to nest and to cling.

“We are from the department of human services, and we are here to help”.

Now, wait a minute.  What happened to all that warmth, suddenly?  Is that  a chill I feel?

P.T. Barnum is widely attributed with the words “there is a sucker born every minute, and two to take his money”.

You ever have the feeling you are that sucker?  Politicians will use these kinds of words to sway us…to cajole us, and to manipulate us.

Are we mere emotional putty, to be molded by the slick words?  Or are we more?

Is it possible that we can rise above the emotions and actually “think”, or will that be too much a bother?

I think we have it in us, but thinking is a curious thing.

For instance, you can think yourself an astronaut, strap dynamite to your butt for your propellant, and you’ll leave the forensic experts scratching their heads and wondering why a terrorist would target his own backside and an empty field.

It takes more than simply stating, or simply believing.  There is a reality in this world, and it does not matter what perspective those who document it take – the reality of the facts do not change.

The insiders (his friends, if he had any) will always know that Mission Commander Quixote died in his misbegotten quest to get to the moon on the cheap. History, however, will not be so kind.

So, the words, you see, can hurt.  They do record, and future generation may base their decisions on a corruption of actual history.

In what they have done to Palin, a perversion, really.

We have minds, and we are able to look closely at choices. As a teacher once told me “read between the lines”.

I am very proud of my party at this moment in our history.

I believe that Senator McCain has shown some true and inspiring wisdom in his pick of Governor Palin.  Yes, there are concepts being bantered about like a punching ball between two kids…but I think there is a distinct and utter difference – one of the kids is maturing beyond the game.

Our party, for too long, has been the brunt of vicious attacks by the media.  People act like what has happened to our President is new, but it is anything but.

“You won’t have Nixon to kick around any more.”

Remember those words?

The only thing alarming to me, right now, is that as a former journalism student (ah heck, once a student, always a student) – as a journalist (read “writer”, “logger”, “blogger”), but as one who slings the ink, I have to say that I am more than alarmed at the behavior of the media.

People have been harping on them and their ethics for some time, but this is honestly, I believe, a dividing line in history. It is an event horizon.

You will remember that the term “yellow” was attributed to journalism long ago in association with sensationalism.  If a writer could find a “hook”, something that would make the story “zing”, then he would naturally set that hook the way an angler would set one in the jaw of a big fish.

Do not mistake this.

WE are the big fish, and the angler is ready, willing and able to reel us in.

What he does with us once we are in the boat, a different matter.

The thing is, there was a delineation in the past.

Jack Anderson was once associated with this craft.  So was Walter Winchell before him. Probably goes all the way back to the boy who cried wolf.

It is nothing new.

All journalists will take a dull and lifeless story and breath life into it with some degree of blarney and “puffing it up”.

One could just say “there is a fire on eleventh” and be done with it, or zing it up a little and say “brave firemen from the 78th precinct risk life and limb as the mortar and brick plunged from the burning behemoth, leaving behind a charred and sizzling skeleton of steel”.

It is one thing to be dramatic.  People love a good story, and if it does not detract from the facts, what is the harm?  It makes for better copy, better reading, and by the way, those firemen do deserve some ink.

Now, what about the converse of this.  What happens when journalists do the same thing, only this time, they are not so kind to the firemen?

What happens when they’ve got a beef against the boys in the 40th precinct, and they choose to report the story different when they are the men on the scene?

“Tired, over-weight and restless firemen from the 40th sauntered up to the scene and resembled inanimate fireplugs more than brave civil servants as the building crumbled in a heap before their sputtering fire hoses.”

Both buildings were destroyed.  Both suffer the same amount of damage, and simply due to the words chosen, a different perspective is conveyed for the firemen.

There is a great deal of power in the pen, no doubt.

One of my favorite professors in journalism school – a lady whose voice will forever be in my conscience, she once told me to “never compromise your integrity.  Lost once, it may never be regained”.

I would have to argue with her a bit on that one.  It seems that the modern media can slander all they want, can choose sides and literally play god in an election and become, literally, that fourth (or fifth) column they so fondly believe themselves to be…and yet they are still touted somehow as having their integrity in tact.

I’m going to have trouble believing anything I read now.  I suppose this is good in one way, but then, who will I turn to in order to find differing vantages?

I say that you see it right here.

The bible is absolutely right.  There is nothing new under the sun.

Our forefathers were “pamphleteers” and in a very real way, they were the precursors to the modern media.

They slandered one another in pamphlets printed in their own basements.

So here’s my take (hope with my integrity in tow) – long live the bloggers – those modern-day pamphelteers.

We represent integrity, and for this writer, it means keeping that integrity with me through all.

Now, having said that, here is my shameless plug (endorsements are something papers will sometimes do on their editorial page)…

Senator McCain, Governor Palin – best of luck to you both.  This writer hopes (and deep down, believes) that you too will hold integrity in the highest light.

I believe our Nation is a bit wiser this morning, now that we see the muck in which the major media swims.  I only hope that a few will rise above that mire, crawl out onto the soil and live like a higher order creature – perhaps even human (but that may be too much to ask and/or expect)


All Hail the American Warrior

Deaths related to Improvised Explosive Devices (IED’s), since our surge that Democrats were so vehemently against, since the surge they are down by Eighty-Nine percent.


Now, there is a figure.

To me, this means that Eighty-nine percent of our boys are not maimed, burned or worse.

Eighty-nine percent.

It is happening because our President has the good sense to get out of our military’s way and let them conduct the war.

This is NOTHING like Viet Nam.

During that era, political leaders tried (and failed) to conduct that war.  Our militia’s hands were tied by petite Napoleons who wanted a demarcation in history, rather than a line marking the boundaries of war.

I will agree with those who say there is no victory in warfare.  It is a sin to see so many lose their lives, limbs and spirits…but I tell you that when the enemy is hell-bent on destroying us and our way of living, there are few, viable options to war.

What these boys and girls have sacrificed is beyond belief.  What they have given, no one can ever return.

To those who would invalidate all that they have accomplished by going overseas and consorting with our enemies – what you have done is a travesty, and I believe, high treason.  To go and do business with those who would send their suicide bombers to our soil – how do you live with yourselves?

My hat is off to the real patriots…not those who “spin” an image of patriotism through a belief that somehow their brand of pacifism is somehow as noble as the soldier.

There is no nobility in laying down the country others have built as homage to your concepts of heroic pacifism.

To the soldiers I say, long live your victories. Long live real victories, against real enemies.

Long live the American soldier !