Tuesday, September 29, 2009
So if you were going to rent one of these cabins for a week which one would you want?
They are both on the upper Tennessee River.
Cabin 'A' looks rustic but clean, neat, and simple. It seems to have blacktop parking (or is that gravel?) near it and is only a few yards from the River. But I don't see any electricity or plumbing. Can't see if the window has a screen or not. That first step looks a little long to me as well. Do they have gators in the Tennessee River?
Cabin 'B' is a little junkie and the road looks like it is all dirt. The grass around it is mowed (or grazed). The window looks to have a screen on it. Are bugs a problem on the River this time of year? It does seem to have electricity (a meter and box are in front) and maybe even water etc. (looks like pipes under the cabin). It does seem to lean to the front a bit. It is some distance from the River however.
Cost is no object (meaning they both are dirt cheap). Which one would you pick? I asked Wife and she said, "Pitch a tent and save money."
Now I'm just adding this picture cause I took it and I ain't never seen no crop duster fly that low before( I really hope this was an optical illusion) and I used to work for one in high school till he hung his plane up on a barbed wire fence taking off from an alfalfa field and ended his crop dusting business and my flying lessons (they were part or my pay). I worked for him as a flagman and a swamper, but that's another story.
Monday, September 28, 2009
So Fatman takes me down to the hotel lobby in the elevator and shows me this Junior high rainbow shaped thing in the lobby called The Arch. He takes my picture and says this is the Gateway Arch and it houses the Museum of Westward Expansion. OK, but if we were going East wouldn't it be the Museum of Eastern Contraction?
I really thought, well that must be a miniature museum if in was in this arch.
So I imagined little tiny wagons and horses and people and stuff like that.
Well I was a bit confused. Fatman said, no this is not the Arch, this is a model of the Arch.
Oh, well, he didn't make that clear.
So we go outside of the hotel and he points to the real Arch. Dang, that's really big.
So he sticks me in the backpack and off we go to the museum. He tells me it is underground and there's a movie theater and that he will take my picture with all sorts of stuff and we can ride to the top of the Arch and look out of the tiny little windows that I could see from down here.
Well, that did not happen.
We go into the museum and there are these guys with magic wands that reveal the presence of metal and things that might be dangerous you know. 9-11 stuff or so Fatman said.
So they "wand" me and the wands sing like a bird. Fatman you see has stuffed my feet with BB's to weigh them down to help me stand up. So they put me on a moving table thing and I go through a little tunnel and then they pick me up by an ear pulling out a couple of stitches and pull Fatman out of the line and bring him over. It seems they wanted to cut me open. CUT ME OPEN! Well he had some fast talking to do, and I don't really think the police type guys believed him. Eventually they put me in a plastic box with the number 26 on it and give Fatman a card with the same number on it.
There I was, upside down, boots hanging over the top, and not going anywhere. The only thing that kept it from being really boring was that there was an American Girl doll dressed up like an Indian in the box next to me, box number 25. Talk about pissed, she really really want to go into the museum. After a very long time Fatman came back smelling of hamburgers and redeemed me. Stuffing me into the backpack which was in box 27, we left.
I haven't spoken to Fatman since then. It has been several hours now. I'm not sure I will talk to him for quite some time actually. Cut me Open?????
Friday, September 25, 2009
So, were all the disciples unmarried?
Was it just a gagle of unmarried people.
Not probable I'm told. OK, well were does it say that they were married?
If they were what were their wive's names?
What no names?
So why not? Oh, women were chattel and not important enough to be discussed and reported.
So, what's with Mary Magdalene then? Why is she named?
So why does this equation not sum?
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
For example on Saturday the biological unit count of the Red Goo on the Mall was estimated at between 60,000 and 75,000 by the D.C. Police and Fire Departments. Only 36 hours later the official estimate on the Fox News Morning Show was stated as 1.7 million. As you can plainly see at this rate The Goo will absorb all of the Population of the United States by next Saturday. For all practical purposes it is all over. We are done.
Damn the Red Goo and its insatiable appetite.
So go forth and sell all you own and have the damndest party you can have.
Monday, September 14, 2009
On September 12, 2009 at the rally in Washington D.C. the Red Goo displayed these professionally created signs:
ALL The American Life League
Hurry get yours today!
The concept of self replicating nanites performing ecophagy on whole solar systems however was revived in the long lived science fiction TV series Stargate SG-1. In the Stargate world the Grey Goo scenario is played out by the Replicators. The Replicators are self-replicating machines that seek to convert all civilizations into more of themselves, thus posing a dire threat to all other beings.
Obama Derangement Syndrome is establishing itself as a potent political force, able to rally tens of thousands of citizens to the Washington Mall after Glenn Beck’s call. Joe Wilson’s outburst isn’t an embarrassment of incivility to these folks; it is a rallying cry for an army of useful idiots. But Republicans will soon find that they cannot contain or moderate this strain—while Democrats won’t understand what hit them.
The wave of white people that descended on Washington, D.C., this Saturday wasn’t motivated by simple racism, as some liberals might wish—at least that’s what the lady waving the Confederate flag told me. No, this was something else: a pent-up frustration at unprecedented Washington overspending and an individualistic resentment of the welfare state, all mixed with a dose of self-referential patriotism and a spicy dash of paranoia."
As the Saga continues, I will bring you further Chapters.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Saturday, September 12, 2009
I just want to focus on something I heard there from two people, one a veteran, and one a proud great-grandmother. Both stated they did not want Government run health care because they did not want all that tax burden on their children and grandchildren.
Fair enough. Let's start at home with each of you guys and every other person over 65, or using VA health care who feels that way in principle. Here is what you have to do to put yourself where your mouth says you are. Give it up. Give up you Medicare. Don't go to the VA for care or medicine. Tell your unmarried grand daughter with three kids and no job not to take that Medicaid she has been using.
If everybody who has mouthed those words gave up their Government sponsored health care, then and only then should they be listened to. Give it up or shut up.
If you don't give it up, then you are either a liar or a hypocrite. For you people who don't believe there should be government health care and are under 65 but with parents and grandparents over 65, get them off of Medicare and add them to your family insurance. Do that or shut up.
You want to be heard. You want to get rid of government health care? You want us to believe you're not just a dupe and a sock puppet for corporate thoughts, then give it up or shut up and go back home.
Every year I think about posting those myself. I think about pulling them out of my archives and put them here. But I don't. I do not show them diving to death to keep from cooking alive.
I do not show them burst on the sidewalk like pumpkins. Instead I will re-post this:
No Justice For the Jumpers!
It was the Jumpers.
The falling of the buildings was mind blowing.
The collapse of the Towers was unbelievable.
It was the Jumpers.
That was believable
.Those people I could identify with.
I could understand.
That I could wrap my mind around.
With them I identified.
That was what stoked my hatred.
Someone had to pay for the Jumpers!
As I look back now that is how I came to hate George W. Bush and all he was and stood for and everyone who supported him.
I do mean EVERYONE WHO SUPPORTED HIM.
They are Shit to me.
W did not make them pay.
He dropped the ball.
He went off on a personal family crusade.
He did not seek, much less obtain Justice for the Jumpers.
He left us, me, unsatisfied, unfinished, unresolved!
He is a loser.
He let them get away.
Naw, don't give me back those Karl Rove (Lee Atwater Junior) talking points.
Don't you dare.
I want Justice for the JUMPERS.
I want Retribution for those who burst on the sidewalks.
I want Punishment in the name of those holding hands as they jumped together.
I want Parity of Pain given in the name of those who in flames leaped to their deaths.
I want Justice For The Jumpers.
That's all, just common justice.
McCain says if we elect him he can give it to us.Big talk for a demented old man.Why didn't you get it done already Mr Senator?Besides John you smell like Bush and I hated that loser.Obama says he can get it for us.Can he?I don't see the passion or the need for it in him.You Have to NEED Justice or Revenge before you will pursue it where ever and however it needs to be pursued.
I go a bit insane on 9-11.
Just like I go insane every April 19th.
The Jumpers need Justice.
Justice for the Jumpers!
Is that really too much to ask?
Thursday, September 10, 2009
During the president's speech to Congress last night on health care, Republican Representative John Shimkus got so fed up that he left the speech entirely.
According to a spokesperson, Shimkus, who represents Illinois' 19th district, was frustrated that the president wasn't offering any new information.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
-----The American For Profit Health Care Companies
I have three kids. Grown now, but they really put a DENT in my life. The first one disrupted my life. The second one squared that disruption. The third one cubed the disruption so as to not allow anything else into the sphere of our existence. We had to devise strategies to survive under the tyranny of three children.
For example:trips. "Are we there yet?" still sends shivers down my spine. Trips to Grandparents were an interminable 2 hour and fifteen minutes of constant abuse by my children.
Soultion: Give each child ten dimes at the start of the trip. Any time they asked a question they forfeited ten cents. The dimes they had left upon arrival, they kept. Fortunately the corporate little minds didn't fathom that I was desperate enough that they could have held me up for at least ten dollars each. Ah the blissful peace that those dimes purchased.
Example: Cake (i.e. pies, brownies, and all other divisible foods) No matter how elegantly precise a parent divided the cake or how fair the choosing there was always contention from the ranks. His is bigger! Her's is taller. He has more. Mine has more air bubbles than hers.
Solution: Let them choose which one of the three got to cut the cake, and who got to choose first. That always worked because we had the rules that the one that cut the cake always chose last, and no one chose first twice in a row. Believe me they always knew who went first the last time. But that meant that the cutter of the cake had to be as precise as they possibly could to make each piece absolutely equal to the others. Otherwise they would not get their own fair share. My oldest son for example became so precise that he would so equally divide the pieces that I believed the variation could have best been measured at a molecular level.
But equal is not always equity. One kid may not have loved brownies with nuts as much as the other two. So that kid was always chosen by the remaining two to make the cuts knowing that he/she would make one small piece for them self and two equal larger pieces for the other two to choose from (most of the time any way).
Tonight the President is going to speak about Health Care Reform. I so wish that there was a way so that all of the kids involved could cut up the pie like my kids did. Nobody trust any of the others. No one wants to give up one molecule of their share. All do not trust the Government to cut it up because they KNOW that this Government favors the the others over them and will cheat them somehow. This is a perfect situation for the cutter being last and no one being first twice.
Mr. President, that's the kind of reform I want to see. Reform where the stock holders, and the CEOs, and the policy holders, and the docs, and patients, and the care providers, and the hospitals, and pharmacies, the indigent, the careful, and the terminally stupid, all get their equitable share and can live with the results.
Good luck Mr. President.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
America elected this guy to be their Leader and then forgot to follow. I guess it has been so long since we have had a leader instead of a Charismatic Lemming Herder, or a left handed CIA operative, or a Self Promoter, or a Goober being led around by Darth Vader, that we just don't know what one is no more.
Do I hear bleating? Loud Baahs?
He has told us over and over and over and over and over that he intends to govern by consensus!
He has said it clearly and consistently, but the black and white sheep with wool over their eyes and ears that are being led around by the various ilk of cable network and blogger goats seem to not be able to hear what he has said over their too loud chorus of bleatings led by the shrill baah's of those they follow.
Here it is plain and simple in the President's words:
"I am confident that when all is said and done, we can forge the consensus we need to achieve this goal,' the president wrote in an op-ed piece in The New York Times."
“...we can no longer let the perfect be the enemy of the essential.”
"This time, Obama said, “Each of us must accept that none of us will get everything we want.” And, he said, “While everyone has a right to take part in this discussion, no one has the right to take it over.”
“In this effort, every voice must be heard. Every idea must be considered. Every option must be on the table. There will be no sacred cows in this discussion,” Obama said."
CONSENSUS? WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?
"General agreement, characterized by the absence of sustained opposition to substantial issues by any important part of the concerned interests and by a process that involves seeking to take into account the views of all parties concerned and to reconcile any conflicting arguments
NOTE Consensus need not imply unanimity."
"A position reach by a group when everyone in the group can say, "I can live with it." That means that all participants may not find the outcome as their ideal solution, but it is not worth arguing about – they can live with it and can support it, they can sleep at night."
Is there an alternative to Consensus?
Sure. We tried it. It is called Civil War. Power Politics. Minority Suppression. Absolute Majority Rule. Nothing a Democratic Republic can long live with.
Obama is set on governing by consensus. That's the gig guys. That's the unhidden big secret! There is no reason to fear that, unless you believe in race or ideological supremacy. If you can't hear that. Then get the wax out of your ears, or the hate out of your heart.
If you don't, then prepared to be sheared and fed to the wolves.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
"I'm sorry this took so long to get to you... only a year and change. I don't think Colleen would mind you using/posting this. Original to follow. "- KD
Junior the Bear Inspires "Toy" Animal Uprising (Reuters: Updated 4:07 p.m, CT Fri June 27, 2008)
Two residents of Norman, OK, Colleen and Christopher, were unexpectedly accosted by their legion of assorted puppets and stuffed animals this afternoon.
The couple, who reside together, state that their day began innocently enough with some Internet surfing. Colleen exclaimed "all I did was log onto to OKCupid to check my mail!"
She continued that she was on OKCupid perusing people's profiles when she decided to see if her acquaintance, KD, had made any interesting updates. KD put a link for a blog written by a bear friend of his. Colleen states that she was curious about this bear, as she happens to know a few ursines herself, and followed the link. What she discovered left her and her fiance lolling and reading aloud in joy for about an hour. The couple could not have anticipated the chaos that would soon erupt.
Unbeknownst to them, the other residents of their home, an eclectic confederacy of gorillas, lemurs, tortoises, monsters, and additional beasts of whimsy, overheard the regaling tales. The menagerie took a keen interest in Junior's adventures, and began to question the sedentary, "gilded cage" mentality of their caretakers. The most vociferous critic of the status quo was one Rocky Raccoon, a puppet with a lifelong relationship with Colleen. She noted, however, that "Rocky's reputation for loyalty is rivaled only by his penchant for insane shenanigans."
Roiling up his befuzzed/ scaly/ feathered comrades with outlandish yet enthralling rhetoric, Rocky proceeded to foment wanderlust and mischievous devilry. Soon, the CD towers were falling over to form barricades while old bills were converted into protest banners. Christopher states that he retorted "WTF? Tsar Nicolas II I ain't!" before being smothered into unconsciousness by a pair of Brobdingnagian stuffed beagles that the couple had rescued from trash men over a year ago. Colleen implored Nimbus Acinonyx, the family's mackerel tabby, for intervention, appealing to his sense of justice and humanity. He gave her a look that clearly meant "whatever...", and continued licking himself. Colleen was then forcibly detained in the bathroom by a llama and a penguin.
The situation remains tense. As a demonstration of goodwill, Rocky and other ringleaders released the couple in exchange for 10 ears of sweet corn, a bag of seedless grapes, and a case of strawberry Crush. Cries for a voyage to Ayers Rock were rejected as being "outrageously unrealistic," but negotiations over a trip to Wichita Mountains Wildlife Preserve continue.
So in that Dr. Jo Lobo (I guess on this blog he is Dr. Lobojo?) is now my pardner in my blog, I think I should introduce myself to his following who are just now joining me. I am Junior the Bear or JTB for short
I was born in 1944. I was created by a guy named Chuck Jones , who drew a cartoon of me called Bugs Bunny and the Three Bears. It was me and Papa n’ Mama and the already established movie star Bugs Bunny, and I stole the show. I couldn't’t spell back then, and can’t do much better these days either, so my name was sometimes spelled Junyer, or Joonyer instead of Junior. I stared in a total of five movies and then in 1951 at the grand ole age of seven years old I was retired (without residuals I might add). I don’t remember much after that until 1994, I remember that I heard someone speaking Chinese and I felt them stuffing stuff into me and them sewing up my neck.. Well the next six weeks was rather strange. They stuffed me in a bag, and then in a box with other animals, even Bugs was in there with me. I was there in the dark a long time, but I could tell that we were moving. I tried to talk to the other people in the box but they wouldn’t answer. I finally realized that they were just toys, and I couldn't’t fathom why I was in here with them.
Finally someone opened the box and I heard a sweet sounding little girl speaking English, I was saved! Not really as it turned out. She took me out of my plastic bag and brushed my fur and talked to me. I talked back to her but she couldn't’t seem to hear me. She placed me on a low shelf along with Sylvester and Tweety Bird who turns out were just toys too and could not talk to me or do nothing.
I was on the self for a very long time. I got dusty and little kids sometimes dragged me around, but nobody ever bought me and took me home. They thought I was cute but didn’t know who I was. I was filmed sitting on the shelf in the background of a credit card commericial staring Bugs, but nothing came of it. As I listened to the girl and everyone else that worked there, I found I was in a toyshop. I was in Atlanta, Georgia in a place called the Underground, and that I WAS A TOY. Well they thought I was a toy, but I wasn’t buying that, I knew better.
I kept trying to talk to people, but nobody acted like they could hear me. Directly across from where I was on the shelf was a café type place that served food and ice cream. Man I wanted some of that ice cream. One day a fat man in glasses sat at the table that I could see through the open door of the toy shop. He was eating a hot dog and had a milk shake.
So I hollered at him, “Hey fatso why don’t you share that milk shake with me.” He looked up and directly at me and smiled. He had heard me! He had heard me!
He liberated me and took me to his home in Oklahoma City where he lived with his wife. That’s how I came to live with my new family, Fatman and Mama Bear. Fatman is friends with Dr. Lobo although I have never under stood what Fatman saw in him. He is quite NEGATIVE!
They tell me I’m only fourteen years old because that’s how long ago they found me. That works out pretty good, cause I can act like young bear and still be as smart and wise as the 66 year old that I am. They don’t have to know everything that I know do they.
So I hope you enjoy my stories.
I will see you next week.
Your Bear friend,
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Meet my new blogging pardner?
Wife: You know people that read my blog tell me that they have stopped reading your blog because it is just too depressing.
Me: What, they can't face the serious issue of the day?
Wife: Well that's all you write about. I worry about your sanity sometimes.
Me: Who me?
OK, OK, I got the message. So I started to try to lighten up my posting such as talking about erections and other funny stuff. I just didn't work.
Me: I tried. I just can't do it.
Wife: Well maybe you need to add another voice to the blog.
Me: OK, I 'll do that.
So I decide to recruit one of the safest non-depressing bloggers I know to be my blog pardner.
Someone who was almost perfect to off set my depressing reality.
My good friend, Fatman, has a Grandbear that wanders with him around the country and has a blog over on Xanga.
So I approached him only to find out that he has been going though a bout of severe depression and stopped blogging many months ago. Well shit, I exclaimed. No, said Fatman, this is good. I can convince Junior that he would be helping you if he blogged with you and you could help him get out of this slump.
And so it became.
Junior's current blog is at : http://juniorthebear.xanga.com/
So Junior will join me here after this week and will provide a different "voice" (boy does he).
Thank you Lance Cpl. Benard for your service and sacrifice.
Thank you Julie Jacobson for your pictures and your courage.
"It is a scene from which many of us would naturally recoil, or at least avert our eyes: a grievously injured young man, fallen on a rough patch of earth; his open-mouthed and unseeing stare registering — who can know what? — horror or fear or shock; being tended desperately by two companions in what are the first moments of the final hours of his life.
It is a scene that plays out daily among American troops in Afghanistan and Iraq, but one that has largely been unseen by the American public in eight years of war.
On Friday, after a couple of weeks of intramural debate and over the objections of the young man’s father (supported by the defense secretary), The Associated Press released such a photograph, by Julie Jacobson.Julie Jacobson.
It depicts Lance Cpl. Benard, 21, of New Portland, Me., shortly after he was struck by a rocket-propelled grenade during a Taliban ambush of his squad last month in Dahaneh, Afghanistan. He lost one of his legs in the attack and died later at a Marine compound during surgery. To provide context for this deeply troubling image, the A.P. sent out a series of photos before and after the attack, a news article about the attack, and...... excerpts from Ms. Jacobson’s journal and a video that she narrated."
Source: read more
See the series of pictures for yourself: comercialapeal.com Memphis Tennessee
I have sent this blog entry to the NYT Lens Blog.
I have been appalled at the tight control that the U.S. Government has exercised on the Journalistic community regarding the report of all Military issues since the first Gulf War.
I have been appalled at the bleating sheep mentality of the faux journalist who submit to being lead around by goats in desert camouflage while filing stories with less than half truths in them.
Lance Cpl Benard died a Marine's death in a Marine's war. I have seen the set of pictures concerned and I applaud Ms. Jacobson for the tasteful way in which she display the scene of horror. Oxymoronic as that is, it is true.
Thank you Julie Jacobson for your courage to be there and take these picture. Thank you and you editors for having the courage to share them with the world. As a Regular Army volunteer in Vietnam I know why our government is censuring these kinds of images. They can not maintain a wrongful and inept war in the light of day. Your pictures are greatly feared by them. Keep it up.
Friday, September 4, 2009
It will increase from a minimum of $25 per visit to $50 (not counting any "extra consultations" or testing). A couple of years before I retired it was $10 per visit. So in 10 years it will have increased by 500%. Just this one little piece of my cost of living has gone up 500%.
Now for me, this is a short term inconvenience. Cause come 2010, I go on Medicare. You know that socialist/communist universal health care program that Regan opposed. For my wife, well I figure because of her just being diagnosed with an on going chronic condition which will require a number of office visits, it might cost us the equivalent of say, one month's current insurance payment. That means her health care insurance cost will go up 8.5% next year. 8.5% increase in one year.
Of course the company said this was being done so that the health care "premium" would not have to be raised. Wow! You see, most of the premiums for this company are paid by State Agencies and Businesses. So in order to not cost those entities any more money they pass the cost directly on to the health care consumer, the patient. Whoopee F..../.
Another few years and we can just print, "In Health Insurance Companies We Trust" right on the money we pay them with.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
President Barack Obama to Make Historic Speech to America’s Students
C-SPAN and White House Web Site to Broadcast Speech Live
At 12:00 p.m., Eastern Time (ET), President Barack Obama will deliver a national address to the students of America. (Please note that this is a change from the originally scheduled time.) During this special address, the president will speak directly to the nation’s children and youth about persisting and succeeding in school. The president will challenge students to work hard, set educational goals, and take responsibility for their learning.
The U.S. Department of Education encourages students of all ages, teachers, and administrators to participate in this historic moment by watching the president deliver the address, which will be broadcast live on the White House Web site .
Sounds innocent and worthy don't it. Ah ha, so you think! Now here is the rest of the story:
"Obama's critics say the lesson plans and the president's calls for a "supportive community" are troubling on many levels.
"In general, I don't think there's a problem if the president uses the bully pulpit to tell kids to work hard, study hard and things like that. But there are some troubling hints in this, both educationally and politically," said Neal McCluskey, associate director of Cato Institute's Center for Educational Freedom.
Among the concerns, McCluskey said, is the notion that students who do not support Obama or his educational policies will begin the school year "behind the eight ball," or somehow academically trailing their peers.
"It essentially tries to force kids to say the president and the presidency is inspiring, and that's very problematic," McCluskey said. "It's very concerning that you would do that."
Parents of public school students would also have to pay for that "indoctrination," regardless of their political background, he said.
"That's the fundamental problem. They could easily be funding the indoctrination of their children.""
Beck connects Mussolini to purported Obama "indoctrination next week." Discussing a bas-relief supposedly representing Mussolini, Beck said: "Gee, who is having indoctrination next week? Oh, yeah, that's right, the president, completely unrelated. This represents, at the time this was made, Mussolini. This was Mussolini.
The Fox Nation: "Will You Keep Your Kids Home the Day Obama Speaks to Schools?" On September 3, the Fox Nation highlighted Obama's speech, asking whether he was "going after school children for help." The FoxNews.com article the Fox Nation linked to includes the headline, "Critics Decry Obama's 'Indoctrination' Plan for Students."
STIGALL: Folks, I'll say this in a different way. If Barack Obama wants time with our schoolchildren -- your children, my children, our country's children. If he thinks it's important to talk about the attributes of education, hard work, go getting a good job, nose to the grindstone, work ethic, education's important -- all those things. I didn't say the message was bad. Don't confuse his message with what's at issue here. At issue is Barack Obama has effectively called a meeting of your children with direction of public school teachers to guide them and shape them and mold them into a discussion and a way of thinking without you there. [...] He gets away with this once, it'll happen again and again. What other helpful piece of advice could President Obama disseminate at noon while you're not around. This is not his job, and it is sure as hell not his job when you're not around." [The Lou Dobbs Show, 9/02/09]
MALKIN: Yeah. Well, as I said, it's not about the text. He'll actually deliver a very innocuous speech. I can guarantee you that. But in these classrooms, which are living laboratories for left-wing activism, what you're going to get are overzealous teachers, teachers' union brass who are in the hip pockets of the Democrat Party, urge their kids to write letters, to demonize Obamacare opponents, and to call them opponents of change.And we've seen this at the town halls. Obama is not above using an 11- year-old girl as his conduit for attacking a town hall protester's signs as, quote-unquote, "mean." He did that in New Hampshire, and that girl was the daughter of an Obamacare acolyte. They are using these kids as political guinea pigs for hope and change. And we know what it's really all about. ----From the September 2 edition of Fox News' Hannity
See I told you there was MORE to it.
Now you know.
Inspiring school students to succeed in school is brainwashing indoctrination towards socialism if not full communism. I've said this all along, school's indoctrinate. They do not let the child make their own decision. They try to mold the impressionable children into zombies supporting our national causes. Hell, don't keep them home just that one day. Keep them home every day. Home school them! Otherwise they will be taught to idolize a N...er President. If everybody home schooled we could wipe out our national debt in just 6 and one half years with the money saved. No body can keep us from praying at home like they think they can in the schools and when the President speaks on TV we can turn the communist bastard off so impressionable minds will not be influenced by his blatant attempt to proselytize them to socialism.
Let's take America back. Start by keeping our kids home from school.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Physical Dimensions of a Spiritual Warfare
Bobby Jindal received his M.Litt. in Politics earlier this year from Oxford University, where he was a Rhodes Scholar. He is currently an Associate at McKinsey & Co. in Washington, D.C. He has been accepted at Harvard Medical School and Yale Law School, and has the option of returning to Oxford for a D.Phil. in Politics. He will be deciding which path to pursue soon. A convert to Christianity, he was born and raised Hindu. Some of the names in this article, but none of the details, have been altered by the author.
Though she had not said anything, I knew something was wrong. Susan and I had developed an intimate friendship; indeed, our relationship mystified observers, who insisted on finding a romantic component where none existed. I called her after the University Christian Fellowship (UCF) meeting -- UCF is an Inter-Varsity Christian group composed of undergraduate and graduate students. Though the interdenominational group's weekly program of songs and prayers had produced the usual emotional high among most members, Susan had left the meeting in a very sullen mood. I asked her to join a group of us who were attending a Christian a cappella concert to be held on campus that same evening.
Despite our intimacy, Susan and I had not spent much time together this past year. We had succumbed to pressure from our friends and decided we should not be so emotionally interdependent without a deeper commitment. To be honest, my fears of a relationship and the constraints of commitment had kept us apart; our friends' objections merely provided a convenient excuse. Still, I felt comfortable asking her to come to the concert, and she accepted the invitation. Though Susan appeared composed throughout the concert, her sudden departure in the middle of a song convinced me otherwise and affirmed my earlier suspicions.
There was no doubt in my mind that I had to leave my friends and follow her outside. I was not exactly sure what I would do or say, but I knew I had to run after her. I found that she had not gone far, but was sobbing uncontrollably outside the auditorium. Since we had been very careful to avoid any form of physical contact in our friendship, I was not sure how to respond. My inaction and her sobs produced a very awkward situation. Fortunately, a female friend who followed us out was able to comfort Susan with hugs and soothing words of reassurance; her quick action was in stark contrast to my paralysis. Once Susan had regained her composure and fell silent, I knew I had to intervene. The female friend meant well, but did not know Susan well enough to provide the advice Susan was sure to seek.
Not even knowing the cause of this raucous scene, I asked Susan if she would like to talk, and volunteered to walk her home. Wanting to avoid any additional embarrassing scenes, I thought it best to remain in silence while we walked. I dared not cause another emotional outpouring until we were safely behind closed doors. When we finally reached her dorm room, I promptly sat Susan on a bed and placed myself in a chair located several feet across the room. This physical arrangement was hardly conducive to the love and support I was supposed to be providing, but I was too scared and unsure of myself to get any closer.