Wednesday, December 30, 2009
The infected site is FOXSPORTS.
I will not post a link to it.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Trusteer’s report looks at phishing from a slightly different perspective that the one taken by the well-known Anti-Phishing Work Group (APWG), which twice-yearly publishes numbers on detected phishing Websites.
The APWG figures show that 49,084 unique phishing Websites were found in June 2009, the second-highest numbers since their data collection began. This data is based on the number of phishing sites found by the group, whether or not the sites have been accessed by Internet users.
This info comes from INTERNET EVOLUTION. And was posted by Jart Armin.
The long and short is: Your info, personally identifiable info; things like Name, SSN, Bank Account and Pin numbers, and your home address, are now the target of an organized crime syndicate, located in Russia.
It used to be that the Christmas and other holiday seasons were big times for internet insecurity. And the security world wondered WHY? Was it because the hackers new creations would have the extended off-time to spread world wide before the good guys could get a handle on it? Or was it because they simply wanted to spoil the holidays for the IT departments? While these elements may have credibility. It was the Ebenezer Scrooge syndrome at work.
Rather than go home from school to be with family, smart kids, really smart kids, were not going home. Abandoned, lonely and bored, these kids were left alone with the university's state of the art computer labs and no adult supervision. This phenomenon has not changed. But something new has been added. Rather than just taking control of you computer for fun and bragging rights. It has now become an operation, funded to give control to a powerful and serious multi-billion dollar criminal enterprise. And what is more important to know is that internet connectivity has increased exponentially. But personal computers make up less than half of those connections. Google estimates that computers account for only 30%. The other 70% are made by portable devices. Smart phones. And all those little applications that make your smart phone, so smart, were created with no thought towards security. A fact that has not been lost on the bad-guys. Add the fact that all the defenses you have erected to protect your PC, are not in place to protect your phone. And you have a recipe for disaster.
The only defense you have is your common sense. Artificial Intelligence is trumped by Natural Stupidity. Read your email on the phone. But wait to get home to your protected PC to view the new video that was attached.
If you get an email from your bank, asking you to verify information you know they already have. IGNORE IT. Also, set your PC's anti-virus to scan your smart phone as if it were any other removable storage device. There are no fail-safes for your not so smart phone. Be curious. Ask yourself Why? WHY did I win the European Lottery? I never knew the had one! They don't and you didn't enter it.
Why is my bank asking me to send them info I know they already have? It wasn't from your bank.
Why is a guy dressed like a thug giving me security advice? Because this is what the good guys look like.
Be well. Be safe. And enjoy your Christmas, or whatever you call your time off during the winter solstice.
Friday, December 11, 2009
Thursday, December 10, 2009
LIEUTENANT MICHAEL P. MURPHY
UNITED STATES NAVY
For service as set forth in the following CITATION:
For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life and above and beyond the call of duty as the leader of a special reconnaissance element with Naval Special Warfare task unit Afghanistan on 27 and 28 June 2005. While leading a mission to locate a high-level anti-coalition militia leader, Lieutenant Murphy demonstrated extraordinary heroism in the face of grave danger in the vicinity of Asadabad, Konar Province, Afghanistan. On 28 June 2005, operating in an extremely rugged enemy-controlled area, Lieutenant Murphy's team was discovered by anti-coalition militia sympathizers, who revealed their position to Taliban fighters. As a result, between 30 and 40 enemy fighters besieged his four member team. Demonstrating exceptional resolve, Lieutenant Murphy valiantly led his men in engaging the large enemy force. The ensuing fierce firefight resulted in numerous enemy casualties, as well as the wounding of all four members of the team. Ignoring his own wounds and demonstrating exceptional composure, Lieutenant Murphy continued to lead and encourage his men. When the primary communicator fell mortally wounded, Lieutenant Murphy repeatedly attempted to call for assistance for his beleaguered teammates. Realizing the impossibility of communicating in the extreme terrain, and in the face of almost certain death, he fought his way into open terrain to gain a better position to transmit a call. This deliberate, heroic act deprived him of cover, exposing him to direct enemy fire. Finally achieving contact with his headquarters, Lieutenant Murphy maintained his exposed position while he provided his location and requested immediate support for his team. In his final act of bravery, he continued to engage the enemy until he was mortally wounded, gallantly giving his life for his country and for the cause of freedom. By his selfless leadership, Lieutenant Murphy reflected great credit upon himself and upheld the highest traditions of the United States Naval Service."
In addition to the Medal of Honor, his military awards and his inscription on the Hall of Heroes in the Pentagon, Lt. Murphy has received at least 4 other honors between May 7, 2006 and June 2009.
Michael P. Murphy Memorial Park
On May 7, 2006, on what would have been his 30th birthday, Murphy’s hometown dedicated the Michael P. Murphy Memorial Park; formerly Lake Ronkonkoma Park. The park contains a black granite wall dedicated to the men lost in Operation Red Wing, with each member’s name inscribed. A black granite stone embedded in the plaza bears the picture of Murphy and his Medal of Honor.
Monday, December 7, 2009
On December 7, 1941, A Japanese Bomber pilot manned his aircraft in the pre-dawn light. His name was Mitsuo Fuchida. He took off from the deck of the Aircraft carrier Akagi, and led the surprise attack against the US Navy Pacific Fleet, located at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii.
During the ensuing war years, Fuchida continued to fly -- often narrowly escaping being killed in action. After the Japanese formally surrendered aboard The USS Missouri, in Tokyo Bay on September 2, 1945, he became a bitter and disillusioned man.
A young Christian woman, whose parents had been killed by the Japanese during the war, took it upon herself to minister to Japanese prisoners. When Fuchida heard about this story, his spiritual curiosity was piqued. He was so impressed by this woman's action, that he began reading The Bible. When he read Luke 23:34, of Jesus' words from the cross "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." he clearly understood how the woman was able to forgive the enemy who had killed her family.
Mitsuo Fuchida became a lay preacher and evangelist to the Japanese people. This former warrior demonstrated the "Peace of God that surpasses all understanding." PHIL. 4:7.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Here is a picture of the business he owned. HARDY'S MOTORCYCLE SERVICE. It was located at 1168 East Florence Avenue, Los Angeles, California. The building still exists. But Mr. Hardy's Bike shop has been gone for who knows how long?
So let's investigate the facts we know so far.
1. We have a man.
2. We have a man who rides a Big twin Harley.
3. We have a man who owns a motorcycle repair shop in California.
Lets assume some facts from the evidence I've given you so far and the historic events surrounding them. All of the picture were made before 1969, When AMF took over Harley. In the early to mid 1960s America's motor company was in trouble. Much faster bikes were part of the British invasion that most people remember as the advent of "THE BEATLES" and "THE ROLLING STONES." Not only were the radio waves filled with mop-top music. But the highways were filling up with TRIUMPH, BSA and NORTON motorbikes. The faster Brit bikes were easily out running the HOGS, in sales-rooms and on drag strips.
But most Harley riders were extremely loyal and dedicated owners. And rather than abandon ship, they began to customize their bikes in ways that would make them more competitive with the Brits. The thrust to weight ratio needed to be improved. The easiest way to accomplish this was to remove, or "CHOP" off all the things on a bike that weren't needed to go fast. Things like front and rear fenders, could go. The turn signals, gone. The clunky front drum brakes, gone. The mirrors and the big, heavy, spring loaded seats, gone. And mufflers, gone to the scrap pile. A minor alteration to the front frame geometry, with an extended front fork, and the bike would bounce and soften the blow to the rider, that occurred from changing out the seat.
Quite naturally this cultural revolution began in 1960s California. And the American Chopper was born.
So we can assume Mr. Hardy was a custom bike builder, from the mid 1960s. You say you don't know any Chopper builders by name. How about Billy Zane, Indian Larry, Arlen Ness, or this TV persona, Paul Teutul Sr?
Mister Hardy took two old 1949 police motor cycles, purchased at auction for $500.00. And turned them into an icon for a generation. In fact his art work is one of the world's most recognized items. More famous than anything done by Peter Max. Or the Campbells Tomato Soup Can painted by Andy Worhol.
The1949 Harley Davidson Hydraglide looked like this before Mr. Hardy worked his majic on them:
The original "Captain America" Bike.
And now you know the best of the story.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Even though this is not a story about fighting. It is hard to tell a story of my life that doesn't have a fight in it. No this is a story about my aversion to chocolate. One of the bloggers I follow and exchange witticisms with, The Dutch Doughnut Girl, asked me why I hate chocolate. Thus the motivation for this story.
On my eighteenth birthday the people who had endeared themselves to me threw a party.
Back in 1970 North Carolina, liquor by the drink in a bar was illegal. You could drink beer until you couldn't walk. But a rum and coke was tantamount to heroin possession. Many counties in the Tarheel State were dry counties. No alcohol. Period. I lived in Onslow County. It was a wet county, and the legal drinking age was 18. We could get beer and wine from the local MOM&POP grocery, gas-station. But if you wanted hard liquor, you had to get it from the ABC package stores or a moonshiner. The package stores sold bottles of booze in every size shape and flavor. But there was a stiff hard nosed county employee running these stores. And they must have had some specialized training to spot phony ID. And a smash and grab was out of the question. Those stores were harder than Fort Knox. And the clerks were armed. And because the moonshiners were diametrically opposed to long haired hippie-boys, My first taste of whiskey came at age 18. August 28, 1970, My closest forty friends and I gathered at a beach cottage on Emerald Isle, North Carolina, and indulged in libations of the hardstuff.
Because of the proximity of the stormy Atlantic, the house was up on pilings approximately 25 feet in the air. This was before all the Damn Northern yankee carpetbaggers had begun to migrate into the pristine Carolina coastal plains, so there were no neighbors to be disturbed by our revelry. The music was blaring, force fed a pile of LPs on a record changer. There was a low-stakes poker game at the dining table. Couples dancing in time to the constantly changing beat coming from the HI-FI. And discussions, of significant events of our time, in small groups around the big room. After having had my fill of a tirade from some liberal idiot, I went and sat on the middle of a large couch. Directly in the middle of some of the hardest, real, live tough guys to ever strut through the Old North State. I was barely settled into the Naugahyde, when an arm reached in from the periphery an slammed down a fifth of Seagram's Seven on the coffee table directly in front of me. The light danced through the amber liquid. And I sat staring at it. The music and the card game distorted all other communications. But my concentration on the bottle was broken by money being slapped down next to the bottle and the crystal clear words "I double dog dare you." I gazed in disbelief at the money.A $20.00 bill. The room grew deathly silent. The wagers at the table had stopped. Someone scratched the record while lifting the tone arm out of play. All the dancing fett froze in place. Everyone was looking and listening to me.
The only sounds were the distant surf, my heartbeat, and money hitting the table top. Big money, serious money for 1970. At least $140.00 cash. I was familiar with the "Dare you" system. I had played that game many times before. Both as the dared and the darer. But this wasn't a dare. This was a bet. Then an unfamiliar voice said what everyone else was thinking. "Well?"
So I picked up and uncapped the bottle. Put it to my lips. Took a deep breath and tipped it up. The first sensation was not taste. It was burning. All the way down my throat. 3, 5, 8, 11 gulps and the burn became numbness. My eyes filled with tears. I began to exhale into the bottle and the liquid came down faster. I blocked the opening with my tongue and took another breath through my nose. And chugged again. The last of the SS drained into my mouth and I swallowed. I dropped the empty on the hardwood floor, and scooped up the cash. As I stuffed it into the pocket of my 501 button fly Levi's, three things happened simultaneously.
1. The room erupted in expletives; Dang, Crimenedly, Monkey-scratcher, Maggot-Farmer, Cheese and Rice, Cheese and Rice Allrighty.
2. I stood up.
3. The numbness was replaced with a very uncomfortable, but not unfamiliar warmth.
Then the room did something quite unexpected. It took one complete 360 degree turn to the left. And then took a hard lean to the right. Like a boat in deep water. The roll took me to the right, and gravity pulled me to the door. Fortunately the glass slider was open. Unfortunately, the screen was not, and I went right through the screen out onto the balcony that doubled as a front porch. The railing did its job and kept me from going overboard in to a 25 foot free fall to the dunes below. As I leaned on the railing, looking down at the fall I almost had, I noticed a couple sitting in the swinging bench directly below me. Another familiar sensation arose, my mouth watered instinctively. And I yelled to the couple below "Look out." But all they did was look up. And I purged the potent potable from my body. There was no food in me so only warm whiskey pelted the female. Pasting her beautiful jet black hair to her head. This sight didn't turn me to stone. It should have. Because it had all the contrasts of Medusa. An angelic countenance, surrounded by what had just formerly been a serious buzz awaiting absorption in my stomach. For some reason this struck me as the funniest thing I had ever seen. And I started laughing. Shelley shrieked in horror. And Ray jumped to his feet. Pointing at me, he was screaming something. But I couldn't hear him over my own laughter. They both raced up the steps to confront me.
I tried hard to regain my composure. But the more I tried to stop laughing, the harder I laughed. Ray was furious, and Shelley was crying. And I was laughing like a baby playing peek-a-boo. Then I saw it. He threw it from his hip. Yes he telegraphed the punch. But this message was gonna come through loud and clear. I remember thinking "Man, this is going to hurt." And then it landed. On the left side of my face, between my ear and my cheek bone. If that had hit my nose, blood would have sprayed everywhere. If it had hit me on the point of the chin, I would have seen a bright flash of light and toppled backward over the waist high rail to the dirt, 25 feet below. As it was, my head jerked to the right. But there was absolutely no pain. And now I was hysterical. As I roared with laughter, Shelley grabbed Ray by the hand and dragged him down the stairs. They got in their car and Shelley drove it away. The whole time they were in eye shot, Ray stared at me in utter disbelief. That was my first encounter with hard liquor. And the last time I got drunk enough to be unable to defend myself. Almost 40 years later, and I still get chills when I see a Seagram's label.
So what has this to do with chocolate? Or my aversion to it? Well rewind, 5, 6, 8 years and I was ten years old. Remember I told you earlier that the Seagram's had given me familiar sensations? Those sensations became familiar to me one day after mowing lawns for money. I had worked hard all day. And I had made an enormous amount of money for a ten year old. I had about $7.50 in my pocket. And the gas for the mower had cost less than $0.40. So I had over seven dollars in pure profit. I was a capitalist from that day forward. But what to do with my windfall? The toy store in Western auto? Or the Dairy Queen? Even though I didn't know what the words were for my feelings at that time. It seemed sophomoric and pedestrian to blow my earnings on toys and ice cream. What would a man do? So I went to the Piggly Wiggly. But not to the candy aisle. I searched the store for half an hour. Searching for the perfect reward. RC Royal Crown Cola? Nope! An entire bag of Mother Goose Potato chips? Nope! A box of Moonpies? Close. But still Nope! Then like a search light probing the darkness, it beckoned to me. The label's lettering and color were familiar. But the package was not. It was a can. The label read "HERSHEY'S CHOCOLATE SYRUP" 16oz.
So I made my purchase and carried it home. I was a happy miser. Once in the house, I made a quick stop in the kitchen to grab a church key. And locked myself in my room to enjoy the fruits of my labor. Alone and undisturbed. I used the church key to poke the two triangular holes in the can top. One for drinking. One to vent. Then, in the same manner as described above, I emptied the syrup can into my stomach in three large gulps. It took a bit longer to start. And it lasted much longer once it got going. But the Hershey's syrup had the exact same effect on my body as the whiskey had 8 years later. To this day a single Chips Ahoy cookie will give me the precursory feelings that culminate in projectile vomiting. The lessons learned were; God takes care of drunks and fools. And too much of anything can devastate something you should otherwise enjoy.
Until next time; KEEP IT BETWEEN THE DITCHES. And your knees.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
You have been lied to. Antropogenic Global warming is a farce. Not a fact. This is not just a figment of my right wing fanaticism. Or just my opinion. Last week a hacker broke into the email system of the University of East Anglia's Climate Research Unit, and released 1000's of emails documenting the conspiracy. This isn't a post from my friends at Fox News. This comes directly from reporters at the Wall Street Journal.Consider the case of Phil Jones, the director of the CRU and the man at the heart of climategate. According to one of the documents hacked from his center, between 2000 and 2006 Mr. Jones was the recipient (or co-recipient) of some $19 million worth of research grants, a sixfold increase over what he'd been awarded in the 1990s.
Why did the money pour in so quickly? Because the climate alarm kept ringing so loudly: The louder the alarm, the greater the sums. And who better to ring it than people like Mr. Jones, one of its likeliest beneficiaries?
Read all the facts at: THIS VERY INTERESTING VERSION OF THE FACTS. I guess not all hackers are evil...
Monday, November 30, 2009
Of course she deserves a chance to get away from it all. But where to? I have been every where in this big blue world. But I'm trying to think like a chick. So, I'd say the French Riviera. Specifically Saint Tropez, France. Hotel rooms start around 190Euros to 360Euros per night and look something like this;
Actually all of these objects are mere tokens of your appreciation and esteem. They might get you a hug, or a peck on the cheek. But if you're looking to win her heart. Nothing says love like a 2kt Diamond solitaire.
You can't even see where the Titanic hit that chunk of ice.
Out the door for $30,000.00. But a diamond is forever.
MERRY CHRISTMAS, Y'ALL.
Friday, November 27, 2009
Of course you want him to style while he's in the wind. And nothing looks or wears better than a naked leather Classic Biker Jacket. This one can be found on-line at Fox Creek Leather. And goes out the door at around $350.00. It has a lifetime guarantee and is covered for almost everything except roadscrapes, bullet holes and the occasional knife fight.
Looking for something a little less motorbike? But still want something to raise the testosterone. May I suggest firearms? Stay away from those wimpy little bullet hose style 9mm. And go with a big boy toy. The venerable Colt .45 ACP. Model 1911 A1. It was ergonomic, before that word even existed. And the lines are classic. The .45 was designed to knock down drug crazed enemy agents, when the .35 calibers were ineffective at doing so. A 9mm is a .355 caliber. And the US military adopted it in place of the Colt, because our NATO pals all used it and we wanted to be like them.
An upgraded version of the same Colt, is the Colt XSE. Trigger, hammer and grips slightly modified for performance.
But if you want big time knock down power and attention grabbing bang. The Smith & Wesson model 500, chambered in .500 S&W Magnum is right up your alley. If you thought Dirty Harry Callahan's .44 Magnum was a big gun. You ain't seen nothing. This stainless steel marvel goes for around $1700.00
The new big boy in the handgun world squirts a 385 grain projectile out the barrel at 1980 feet per second. For you non-math, or non-ballistics informed types; That's the same as throwing a .80 ounce fishing sinker at 1350 miles per hour. This is in the hand-cannon category. The shock wave alone from discharging this bullet is enough to cause permanent ear and eye damage (Ear splitting and Eye popping have a new definition). So adequate ear and eye protection is highly recommended. For the shooter and the observers.
This .50 caliber comes with a built in muzzle brake and shock absorbing handgrips to reduce felt recoil, which is considerable. But shooting a gun that doesn't kick, is like kissing a girl who won't kiss back. It starts out OK. Then gets boring, fast.
If all of these suggestions seem a little too manly, or dangerous, and something more four wheels is on you mind. Check this.
Merry Christmas, Y'all.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
He said it was because I listed Grand Funk as one of my favorite bands. But I think it had more to do with our similar Carolina upbringings. Either way, This dude stuck with me. He gave me advice and I found his sense of humor engaging. But his take no prisoners attitude and his bullet proof logic are addictive. His silver tongue style of eloquence has corralled an impressive list of followers. Most of which are of the female persuasion. And he doesn't wear a leather jacket, or ride a motorbike. GO FIGURE!
But rest assured, there is no sugar coating, or syrup poured on his entrees. However, there is plenty of down home flavor. So go and check him out. He has advice on everything from relationships to carpet cleaning to aquarium setup and maintenance. But before you leave him a comment, beware. He don't tolerate stupid. So have an opinion, but don't suck. Thanks Buddy. Have a great week.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Thursday, November 19, 2009
JASON L. DUNHAM
UNITED STATES MARINE CORPS
For service as set forth in the following CITATION:
For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty while serving as Rifle Squad Leader, 4th Platoon, Company K, Third Battalion, Seventh Marines (Reinforced), Regimental Combat Team 7, First Marine Division (Reinforced), on 14 April 2004. Corporal Dunham's squad was conducting a reconnaissance mission in the town of Karabilah, Iraq, when they heard rocket-propelled grenade and small arms fire erupt approximately two kilometers to the west. Corporal Dunham led his Combined Anti-Armor Team towards the engagement to provide fire support to their Battalion Commander's convoy, which had been ambushed as it was traveling to Camp Husaybah. As Corporal Dunham and his Marines advanced, they quickly began to receive enemy fire. Corporal Dunham ordered his squad to dismount their vehicles and led one of his fire teams on foot several blocks south of the ambushed convoy. Discovering seven Iraqi vehicles in a column attempting to depart, Corporal Dunham and his team stopped the vehicles to search them for weapons. As they approached the vehicles, an insurgent leaped out and attacked Corporal Dunham. Corporal Dunham wrestled the insurgent to the ground and in the ensuing struggle saw the insurgent release a grenade. Corporal Dunham immediately alerted his fellow Marines to the threat. Aware of the imminent danger and without hesitation, Corporal Dunham covered the grenade with his helmet and body, bearing the brunt of the explosion and shielding his Marines from the blast. In an ultimate and selfless act of bravery in which he was mortally wounded, he saved the lives of at least two fellow Marines. By his undaunted courage, intrepid fighting spirit, and unwavering devotion to duty, Corporal Dunham gallantly gave his life for his country, thereby reflecting great credit upon himself and upholding the highest traditions of the Marine Corps and the United States Naval Service".
On March 20, 2007, the Navy reported that a new Arleigh Burke-class guided missile destroyer would be named the USS Jason Dunham, in his honor. In a formal ceremony in Scio on March 23, 2007, Navy Secretary Donald Winter officially announced the naming of the USS Jason Dunham (DDG 109). The keel was laid at a ceremony on April 11, 2008, at Bath Iron Works in Bath, Maine. The ship was christened on August 1, 2009, with Dunham's mother, Debra, acting as the ship's sponsor. Among family members and officials present at the christening, also in attendance were Dunham's Kilo Company commander, Major Trent Gibson, and Sgt. Bill Hampton and Cpl. Kelly Miller who were next to Dunham when the grenade detonated, and whose lives he saved when he threw himself on the grenade. A piece of Dunham's helmet will be encased in the mast.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Well I know this won't win me any popularity contests. But I don't care about that. I admire Ann Coulter. She may not be very tactful or courteous. But she speaks her heart. And I believe what she says is true. YES. I am an extreme right wing conservative. I own guns. I'm an NRA Member. I vote early and often. I haven't missed an election since the voting age was dropped to 18. I spent 21 years, 5 months and 8 days in the US Navy. 16 of those years were at sea with my finger hovering over the button or a trigger. My shore duty tours were spent ensuring the next generation of sailors had all the knowledge they needed to remain war-ready. I am an anachronism. I believe in chivalry. Honesty. And in Christ Jesus. I am not very religious. Religion is responsible for some of the worst atrocities in the history of mankind. But I do come from a part of America, where Gentleman is a birth right, and not an act of congress. Where gentlemen stand up when a lady is being insulted. So I'm on record; every thing Ann says, goes double for me...
I asked my wife; "If you die before me, is it okay if I marry Ann Coulter?" She said "Yes."
Now for my next damsel in distress. Miss Carrie Prejean. What on earth did she do to warrant such extreme dislike and negative attention from the likes of CNN and MSNBC? She had the unmitigated gaul to tell Larry (Viagra) King, he was being in appropriate. But only after Mr. Viagra asked her about the settlement of her case against the Miss America Pageant. She had already told him she was not allowed to discuss the details. But he kept picking at her. Afterward, her former boyfriend, was quoted on CNN as saying "Now, you get to see the real Carrie." What was so terrble? She didn't raise her voice. She did not call names or throw a tantrum. I question her so called "boyfriend" and his motivation. If you had nude photos of Miss California, Would you keep them to yourself? Or would you weasel out and brag to the world? Money is a great motivator. I wonder how much TMZ paid for those photos. Or did he do it just for bragging rights.
So what did Miss Prejean do? Pose for nude pictures? Yes, but so what? Looking at pretty women is no crime. Our God is in the business of making pretty women. It's what you do after looking that makes the difference. And then it is your problem. Not the woman's.
No, her crime is being a Christian woman in Post liberal America trying to be noticed by espousing her beliefs. Some here-to-fore unknown, misogynistic, homosexual asked her a loaded question at a Beauty Pageant. She had the intestinal fortitude to speak her mind in public. And spoke out against homosexual marriage. This is the issue she is being chastised for. She did not say anything about homosexuals per say. She spoke against homosexuality.
If homosexuals wanted to simply be accepted as homosexuals, that would be fine. Homosexuals are no different than your common adulterer. But, they aren't satisfied with that. They don't want the 90% heterosexual world population to accept the 10% homosexual population. They want you to accept homosexuality. They want you to accept the act. They want you to condone the act of homosexuality. "We were born this way." is their new mantra. Then why aren't serial killers and child molesters given the same latitude? Because homosexuals are made, not born. The proof is evidenced in identical twins. There are documented cases of identical twins, were one is heterosexual and the other is homosexual. Yet both have exactly the same DNA. If homosexuality were actually a birth trait. It would have died out after the first generation. No heterosexual coupling. No homosexual children. The old joke applies. If your parents had no children. You won't either. There is no case, documented or otherwise, where the homosexual act ended in conception.
But homosexuals still have the right to enjoy life in America, right? Yes they do. So that means they have the right to get married in America, correct? No. The problem is not with the definition of the word marriage. The problem is in the definition of the word "right." The truth is that in America, no one has the RIGHT to MARRIAGE. Marriage is a priviledge, granted and licensed by the states, just like hunting, fishing and driving. If it were a right, as the Homosexual activists claim. No state could license or restrict it. Or charge a fee for it. Why do you think states aren't allowed to license gun ownership? Because it is an individual right of the people, spelled out by the constitution. If it were not so. America would have been a totalitarian dictatorship long ago. Marriage is denied to other groups in the US besides just homosexuals. Brothers are not allowed to marry their sisters. First cousins are forbidden in most states from marrying each other. Mentally incompetent people are also restricted by law from marriage in many states. Children under the age of 15 in some states, 12 in Arkansas, and 18 in most states are denied the privilege of marriage. It is purely a matter of money. Marriage in America is licensed to allow the procreation of the next generation of tax-payers. Anything other than traditional marriage is bound to end in being a tax burden, rather than a taxable asset for generating revenue.
The fact that America's religions are still allowed to officiate at weddings in the US is amazing to me. Pleasing. But amazing.
For my Mexican and Canadian readers, Please excuse my use of the term AMERICA when I mean The USA. My words are not meant to impugn, exclude or belittle you. All Americans are not in the USA, I realize this. But All the USA is in America. And it is out of habit, I use the term America when referencing the USA.
As for the rest of the US citizens, welcome. And please remember. You have the right to be offended by everything I say. Enjoy and exercise your rights daily and leave me a comment.
One last thought: What qualifies misogynistic homosexual to sit as a judge of a women's beauty contest?
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Friday, November 13, 2009
Heads up to all Microsoft Windows users: If you’re running Windows 2000, Windows XP or Windows Server 2003, stop what you’re doing and immediately download and apply the MS09-065 update released earlier this week.
Security researchers say it’s only a matter of time — days not weeks — before malicious hackers start exploiting one of the vulnerabilities via booby-trapped Web pages or Office (Word or PowerPoint) documents.
The specific vulnerability — in the font parsing subsystem of the win32.sys driver — provides an entry point for hackers to take complete control of an unpatched machine without any user action beyond normal browsing or opening a rigged document file.
A proof-of-concept exploit has already been fitted into the Metasploit point-and-click tool. According to Metasploit’s HD Moore, the code triggers a BSoD (blue screen of death) from a Web page. With some modifications, Moore expects to get reliable code execution very soon.
Microsoft’s MS09-065 bulletin says an exploit was already publicly available before the update was ready on Patch Tuesday (perhaps this one released since August?), meaning that malware authors have gotten a long head start researching entry points for attacks.Please keep a few things in mind.
1. You are responsible for patching and defending your computer.
2. Beware who you trust. Even I am just some guy you met on the internet.
3. If you have technical questions feel free to send me an email at krippledwarrior[at]gmail.com
Thursday, November 12, 2009
From top to bottom: The King and Barbara Stanwyck, The Doobie Brothers, Cher, Bridgett Bardot and Bo Derick. Once again I humbly bow to my FASHIONISTA MENTOR, THE NICNACMANIAC. Besure to check her blog for some truly wonderful fashion and decorating ideas.