Indulge me for a moment please. I promise I'll give you the correct answers in a moment. But I have a few issues that need to be cleared up.
I used to post trivia quizzes on a weekly basis. But I stopped because in my mind it sounded like I was bragging on my knowledge, or my mind. And the participants would get frustrated and accuse others of Googling the answers. So I began to ask questions in such a manner that Google or Bing would be of little or no use. But the pride factor still remained. So I gave Trivia quizzing up.
Well this time blase' threw down the gauntlet and leveled a public challenge at Chatty Kelly and 2Thinks to a test of Bible knowledge. He said it would be like "Taking candy from a baby."
Well me being the sweetheart I'm known to be, I jumped right into "POP QUIZ" mode, from when I taught Sunday School to 4th and 5th graders in a Small Community Presbyterian Church in Lakeside, California. Let the chips fall where they may.
Well Mr. blase' did not steal anyone's candy. In fact he did get whipped like a rented mule. In all fairness he did comment that he had "Forgotten more than most will ever know." As true as that may be! Without Mr. blase' providing a list of all the Things he used to know, I have no way to grade that answer.
I stated clearly that the rules were "NO RULES" this was an open book test. Google if you want. Bring all your tools. Slide rules, Programmable calculators, All's fair! Try putting "Bible Dog Breed" into your favorite search engine and you will get listings of books with titles like "The Dog Breed Bible" and "The Dog Breeders Bible." To be totally honest, one particular search engine does provide the correct answer to question # 2. But it does not give Chapter and verse references. So I doubt anyone just Googled their way into the answers.
And finally, since I never came to terms on payoff on the wager, And I never asked CK or 2Thinks if they even wanted to play. I personally know 13 4th graders in Lakeside Community Presbyterian Church who would gladly take this bet. So, I can only grade the answers. But I can't insist on a payoff.
With no further ado. The answers:
1. Revelation 1:3 Blessed is the one who reads the words of this prophecy, and blessed are those who hear it and take to heart what is written in it, because the time is near. Everyone got this one correct.
2. A Greyhound. Proverbs 30:29-31. Kat jumped all over this one.
3. The answer is "Christian." Everyone got this one! But I disagree with Mr. B. the term is used today, just the same as it was back then! A term of derision and ridicule. (I wear a Black Tee Shirt that says "I'm that Christian, the Devil warned you about!") It doesn't get me cheered!
4. David And Elhanan! This turned out to be the "ACE BUSTER"
Everyone knew the story of David Slaying the giant Goliath found in 1 Samuel 17:23
But in 2 Samuel 21:19 it says: "In another battle with the Philistines at Gob, Elhanan son of Jaare-Oregim the Bethlehemite killed Goliath the Gittite, who had a spear with a shaft like a weaver’s rod. NO ONE GOT FULL CREDIT FOR THIS QUESTION.
5. Tattoo appears only once Leviticus 19:28 Do not cut your bodies for the dead or put tattoo marks on yourselves. I am the LORD. Chatty Kelly and Kat, were spot on for this one. I've had this verse recited at me more times than I care to remember. I just remind those people of what Leviticus 19:27 says "Do not cut the hair at the sides of your head or clip off the edges of your beard." and the discussion usually ends.
6. The word Trinity does not appear anywhere in any translation of the bible. Congratulations! Everyone got this one.
7. Jael (Heber's wife) in Judges 4:21. Chatty Kelly and Kat got it. To me it sounds more like a Rob Zombie screen play than a Bible story. But it's there. Look it up!
8. The only unforgivable sin is to Blaspheme the Holy Spirit! Mark 3:29 But whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit will never be forgiven; he is guilty of an eternal sin.” Everyone got this one! But Mr. blase' added the caveat "Whatever that means." Well let me add it is a good thing that you don't know how to do this. But Mark 2:30 gives a pretty good rebuttal to this argument. "He said this because they were saying, “He has an evil spirit.”"
9. There are several instances in the Bible where Liars are rewarded. And an equal number where liars are chastised and punished. My reason for bringing this up, is that not all lies are equal. That's just my opinion! And you won't find that written anywhere, in any translation of the Bible. So the answers I had in mind were the Hebrew Midwives mentioned in Exodus 1:15-21 The king of Egypt said to the Hebrew midwives, whose names were Shiphrah and Puah, 16“When you help the Hebrew women in childbirth and observe them on the delivery stool, if it is a boy, kill him; but if it is a girl, let her live.” 17The midwives, however, feared God and did not do what the king of Egypt had told them to do; they let the boys live. 18Then the king of Egypt summoned the midwives and asked them, “Why have you done this? Why have you let the boys live?”
19The midwives answered Pharaoh, “Hebrew women are not like Egyptian women; they are vigorous and give birth before the midwives arrive.”
20So God was kind to the midwives and the people increased and became even more numerous. 21And because the midwives feared God, he gave them families of their own.
AND Rehab The prostitute of Jericho in Joshua 2:4-6 "But the woman had taken the two men and hidden them. She said, “Yes, the men came to me, but I did not know where they had come from. 5At dusk, when it was time to close the city gate, the men left. I don’t know which way they went. Go after them quickly. You may catch up with them.”
So Chatty Kelly and Kat get partial credit.
10. This was a trick question. I specifically stated in the question that the answer is in a history book, not just in the bible. Scholars and historians date the Book of Ezekiel as being written in 593 BC. You see, for many years critics of bible accuracy pointed to the fact that when Nebuchadnezzar destroyed the city of Tyre, in 573 BC. He did not cast the city into the sea. The residents moved to an island just off shore from where the original city had been. And rebuilt the city. But in 324-323 BC, Alexander of Macedonia sent emissaries to the new island city of Tyre and when the men of Tyre killed Alexanders men. Good old Al, made a hard left turn and attacked the city. The problem was that no one could get to the city because of their offshore location. There were no troop transport ships available. And helicopters were still imaginary. While the men of Tyre stood at the top of their walls and hurled insults about Alex's Momma. The Macedonians, in full battle array, used the ruins of the old city previously destroyed by Nebuchadnezzar, to build a causeway out to the island and once and for all ended the city history of Tyre. It took almost 300 years to come to fruition. But it happened precisely as Ezekiel had prophesied.
I have no idea how Kat got this one right. All of these questions came off the top of my mind. And like I always used to say: "I don't ask questions that I don't know the answer to. Kudos to all who played and all who learned something here.
If you'd like to play a game of trivia, say; Biology, World History, Etymology, Entomology, Theoretical physics, Physical or Political Geography, Mnemonics, Physics of Sound. Books, Movies, Music (Theory{How many flats in the key of C?}! Or just pop culture band names and lyrics), Fine China and porcelain, NASA, NASCAR, NHRA, or the post hole digging capabilities of John Deere Vs International Harvester Tractors.
Just name your topic and pick an opponent. And bring your "A" game!
AMERICA
ONE NATION UNDER GOD!
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Friday, February 26, 2010
A Bible Trivia Quiz
Ladies and Gentlemen! Boys and girls. Step right up and test your knowledge. I know you won't break the rules. 'Cause there aren't any. Put on your thinking caps, or dunce caps, which ever you prefer. I'm using The NIV translation.
1. Which book of the Bible is the only one to offer a blessing, just for reading it?
2. What is the only breed of dog mentioned by name in the Bible?
3. Oddly, this word only appears twice in the Bible. Both times in the new testament. What is this word?
4. Name two men who are credited in the Bible as having slayed "Goliath."
5. How many times is the word "Tattoo" mentioned in the Bible? Cite the chapters and verses.
6. How many times is the word "Trinity" mentioned in the Bible? Cite chapters and verses.
7. Who murdered a man by driving a tent peg into his temple?
8. What is the only sin which will not be forgiven?
9. Cite two instances in the bible where liars are rewarded.
10. Ezekiel 26:2-6 says 2“Son of man, because Tyre has said of Jerusalem, ‘Aha! The gate to the nations is broken, and its doors have swung open to me; now that she lies in ruins I will prosper,’ 3therefore this is what the Sovereign LORD says: I am against you, O Tyre, and I will bring many nations against you, like the sea casting up its waves. 4They will destroy the walls of Tyre and pull down her towers; I will scrape away her rubble and make her a bare rock. 5Out in the sea she will become a place to spread fishnets, for I have spoken, declares the Sovereign LORD. She will become plunder for the nations, 6and her settlements on the mainland will be ravaged by the sword. Then they will know that I am the LORD.
WHO FULFILLED this prophecy in history, by destroying the City of Tyre?
1. Which book of the Bible is the only one to offer a blessing, just for reading it?
2. What is the only breed of dog mentioned by name in the Bible?
3. Oddly, this word only appears twice in the Bible. Both times in the new testament. What is this word?
4. Name two men who are credited in the Bible as having slayed "Goliath."
5. How many times is the word "Tattoo" mentioned in the Bible? Cite the chapters and verses.
6. How many times is the word "Trinity" mentioned in the Bible? Cite chapters and verses.
7. Who murdered a man by driving a tent peg into his temple?
8. What is the only sin which will not be forgiven?
9. Cite two instances in the bible where liars are rewarded.
10. Ezekiel 26:2-6 says 2“Son of man, because Tyre has said of Jerusalem, ‘Aha! The gate to the nations is broken, and its doors have swung open to me; now that she lies in ruins I will prosper,’ 3therefore this is what the Sovereign LORD says: I am against you, O Tyre, and I will bring many nations against you, like the sea casting up its waves. 4They will destroy the walls of Tyre and pull down her towers; I will scrape away her rubble and make her a bare rock. 5Out in the sea she will become a place to spread fishnets, for I have spoken, declares the Sovereign LORD. She will become plunder for the nations, 6and her settlements on the mainland will be ravaged by the sword. Then they will know that I am the LORD.
WHO FULFILLED this prophecy in history, by destroying the City of Tyre?
A Yaqui Way of Knowledge
While still in my transitional phases of "What Is Truth?" I was searching for a shorter path to God. Christianity was too filled with religious zealots, all pointing out what each other was doing wrong in their beliefs. The Catholics were sure they had a lock on the one true path. Protestants were all sure that Catholics were spreading lies and leading their followers straight to hell. A view point that was shared by the Ku Klux Klan! And all three were sure the Jews were the killers of their savior. A fallacy, instigated by the Nazis!!! I hadn't yet learned of all the different types of Protestantisms. But I was sure that I wanted no part of any of those.
Then I found a new book, by an unknown author. It was:
"The Teachings of Don Juan: A Yaqui Way of Knowledge." By Carlos Castaneda. It was published by the University of California Press in 1968 as a work of anthropology. And on the Binding edge of the dust jacket it read "Non-Fiction."
It was submitted by Carlos Castaneda as his master’s thesis in the school of anthropology. It reportedly documents the events that took place during an apprenticeship he claimed to have served with a self-proclaimed Yaqui Indian Sorcerer, named don Juan Matus, between 1960 and 1965.
The book is divided into two sections. The first section, The Teachings, is a first person narrative that documents Castaneda's initial interactions with don Juan.
The second, was a Structural Analysis, by Castaneda to disclose the internal cohesion and the cogency of don Juan’s Teachings.
don Juan tells Carlos that he is a brujo (Spanish for sorcerer or witch), a sort of healer, sorcerer or shaman, who had inherited (through a lineage of teachers) an ancient Mesoamerican practice for refining one's awareness of the universe. In the book, Don Juan was an expert in the cultivation and use of various psychotropic plants (specifically, psychedelic mushrooms, datura, and peyote) found in the Mexican deserts, which were used as aids to reach states of non-ordinary, or alternate reality in the philosophy he conveyed to Carlos.
In the book don Juan is unmarried, and presented as an old man of indigenous ancestry, with great strength and agility, who speaks excellent Spanish but had never been to college, and lived his entire life in poor conditions. Don Juan's philosophy might be summed up in a passage from Castaneda's book,
"For me there is only the traveling on the paths that have heart, on any path that may have heart. There I travel, and the only worthwhile challenge for me is to traverse its full length. And there I travel—looking, looking, breathlessly."
This was the fist book in a series that told more than a story of a man in search of truth. It gave step by step instructions of how to summon power. And which common plants could be used to "SEE" the lights that were at the center of every human and beast. And how to harness the powers in your dream state. Again in the quest for more personal power derived from the universe as it "Really Existed." Sort of like the way Luke Skywalker was taken into apprenticeship under the tutelage of Master Yoda and guiding him to the power of the force. Only this wasn't a Sci-Fi novel. It was 20 years ahead of Stephen Spielberg. And it was a Master's Thesis in Anthropology. SCIENCE!
The list of books in the series at that time included:
# The Teachings of Don Juan: A Yaqui Way of Knowledge (1968)
# A Separate Reality: Further Conversations with Don Juan (1971)
# Journey to Ixtlan: The Lessons of Don Juan (1972)
# Tales of Power (1974)
# The Second Ring of Power (1977)
It may have been a great story. But to me and a few close friends, it became a handbook!
But there is another thing these books have in common with the "STAR WARS" story. There is a dark side. And this darkside (The Nagual) doesn't lure you. Or tempt you. It pursues you. And tries to consume you in an effort to strengthen its own power. And while I can neither recommend or condemn the reading of this or any other book. I will tell you this; If you follow the advice in these books, YOU may see God a lot sooner than you hoped. You may not be prepared for the meeting. But you will not arrive unexpected either.
Next time "Eastern Mysticism": Or "Everything You Though You Knew about Karma!"
Then I found a new book, by an unknown author. It was:
"The Teachings of Don Juan: A Yaqui Way of Knowledge." By Carlos Castaneda. It was published by the University of California Press in 1968 as a work of anthropology. And on the Binding edge of the dust jacket it read "Non-Fiction."
It was submitted by Carlos Castaneda as his master’s thesis in the school of anthropology. It reportedly documents the events that took place during an apprenticeship he claimed to have served with a self-proclaimed Yaqui Indian Sorcerer, named don Juan Matus, between 1960 and 1965.
The book is divided into two sections. The first section, The Teachings, is a first person narrative that documents Castaneda's initial interactions with don Juan.
The second, was a Structural Analysis, by Castaneda to disclose the internal cohesion and the cogency of don Juan’s Teachings.
don Juan tells Carlos that he is a brujo (Spanish for sorcerer or witch), a sort of healer, sorcerer or shaman, who had inherited (through a lineage of teachers) an ancient Mesoamerican practice for refining one's awareness of the universe. In the book, Don Juan was an expert in the cultivation and use of various psychotropic plants (specifically, psychedelic mushrooms, datura, and peyote) found in the Mexican deserts, which were used as aids to reach states of non-ordinary, or alternate reality in the philosophy he conveyed to Carlos.
In the book don Juan is unmarried, and presented as an old man of indigenous ancestry, with great strength and agility, who speaks excellent Spanish but had never been to college, and lived his entire life in poor conditions. Don Juan's philosophy might be summed up in a passage from Castaneda's book,
"For me there is only the traveling on the paths that have heart, on any path that may have heart. There I travel, and the only worthwhile challenge for me is to traverse its full length. And there I travel—looking, looking, breathlessly."
This was the fist book in a series that told more than a story of a man in search of truth. It gave step by step instructions of how to summon power. And which common plants could be used to "SEE" the lights that were at the center of every human and beast. And how to harness the powers in your dream state. Again in the quest for more personal power derived from the universe as it "Really Existed." Sort of like the way Luke Skywalker was taken into apprenticeship under the tutelage of Master Yoda and guiding him to the power of the force. Only this wasn't a Sci-Fi novel. It was 20 years ahead of Stephen Spielberg. And it was a Master's Thesis in Anthropology. SCIENCE!
The list of books in the series at that time included:
# The Teachings of Don Juan: A Yaqui Way of Knowledge (1968)
# A Separate Reality: Further Conversations with Don Juan (1971)
# Journey to Ixtlan: The Lessons of Don Juan (1972)
# Tales of Power (1974)
# The Second Ring of Power (1977)
It may have been a great story. But to me and a few close friends, it became a handbook!
WARNING! DANGER,WILL ROBINSON!
YOUR RESULTS MAY VARY FROM THOSE OF THE AUTHOR! AND MOST, IF NOT ALL OF THE PLANTS, LISTED IN THESE BOOKS, ARE HIGHLY TOXIC. AND MAY PROVE FATAL.
A statement that is only mentioned in passing in the original books. But there is another thing these books have in common with the "STAR WARS" story. There is a dark side. And this darkside (The Nagual) doesn't lure you. Or tempt you. It pursues you. And tries to consume you in an effort to strengthen its own power. And while I can neither recommend or condemn the reading of this or any other book. I will tell you this; If you follow the advice in these books, YOU may see God a lot sooner than you hoped. You may not be prepared for the meeting. But you will not arrive unexpected either.
Next time "Eastern Mysticism": Or "Everything You Though You Knew about Karma!"
Thursday, February 25, 2010
The history of history
HISTORY:
A class that exercises rote memorization of little known, or cared about facts.
Dates: 1492, 1607, 1776, 1812, 1849, 1861, 1865, 1911, 1919, 1941, 1943, 1944, 1945!
Places: San Salvador, Jamestown, Lexington & Concord, Sutter's Mill, Charleston & Mananas, Appomattox, Flanders Field, Pearl Harbor, Normandy, El Alamein, Tunisia, Dresden, Bastogne, Berlin, Hiroshima, Nagasaki, Tokyo.
Names: Christopher Columbus, Lief Erikson, Virginia Dare, King George III, Washington & Jefferson & Hale & Henry & Arnold, Jackson, Cornwallis, Lincoln, Fredrick Douglas, Robert E. Lee, George Tecumseh Sherman, McClellan, US Grant, Franz Ferdinand, Kaiser Wilhelm, Hitler, Marx, Stalin, Hirohito, Mussolini, Churchill, Eisenhower, Montgomery, Patton, Rommel, MacArthur!
Why? Can one sane person, Please tell me, other than winning on Jeopardy, Or Trivial Pursuit, What need is there to take this subject in school? I asked this very question in every History class I ever attended. The teachers always had an answer; "History repeats itself." Or "Those who don't recall history, are destined to relive it!" Or a famous quote by Winston Churchill; "The further back you look in to history, the farther ahead you will see into the future."
And every time I heard this litany, I would roll my eyes and say "WAH, WAH, WAH, WAAAH!" like the sound made by adults talking to Charlie Brown in a Peanuts cartoon. While these were valid and true statements, they were tantamount to quoting the bible when questioning the existence of the bible's stories. Or using evolution to explain how life came to be. It may be sufficient in the eyes of the believers. But I wasn't so easily convinced. And while most of my history teachers after the 4th grade, considered me and my skeptical reaction as me jst being stubborn or rude and looking for trouble. The best answer I ever heard came in my Junior year of High School. The history teacher, who was also the football coach, rather then just glower at me, replied; "If you don't learn the real history, how will you know what is true when someone tries to tell you a different version?"
Coach William Parrish, From Jacksonville, N.C. God bless you, wherever you are!
Not only was this a realistic answer to a very serious question I had been asking for years. It has proven to be most prophetic. I recently read a blog where a woman said she didn't understand why we celebrate Washington's birthday along with Lincoln's Birthday. "The only thing Washington ever did was to chop down a cherry tree, and not lie about it when caught with the evidence sitting on the ground beside him."
Granted she stated quite clearly that she was "no historian." But she got her back up like a cat in a corner when I agreed in a comment that she was "no historian."
Okay get ready to close your eyes and ears. 'Cause I'm about to use a couple of cuss words:
KEITH OLBERMANN, RACHEL MADDOW and MSNBC!
Sorry for using profanity in public. I don't like it anymore than you! But for the truth sake it was necessary. If you want an example of history being retaught to have a different outcome from what was taught back in the good old days. Just give these three a chance to teach your children about America's past.
Next time "A Yaqui way of knowledge."
A class that exercises rote memorization of little known, or cared about facts.
Dates: 1492, 1607, 1776, 1812, 1849, 1861, 1865, 1911, 1919, 1941, 1943, 1944, 1945!
Places: San Salvador, Jamestown, Lexington & Concord, Sutter's Mill, Charleston & Mananas, Appomattox, Flanders Field, Pearl Harbor, Normandy, El Alamein, Tunisia, Dresden, Bastogne, Berlin, Hiroshima, Nagasaki, Tokyo.
Names: Christopher Columbus, Lief Erikson, Virginia Dare, King George III, Washington & Jefferson & Hale & Henry & Arnold, Jackson, Cornwallis, Lincoln, Fredrick Douglas, Robert E. Lee, George Tecumseh Sherman, McClellan, US Grant, Franz Ferdinand, Kaiser Wilhelm, Hitler, Marx, Stalin, Hirohito, Mussolini, Churchill, Eisenhower, Montgomery, Patton, Rommel, MacArthur!
Why? Can one sane person, Please tell me, other than winning on Jeopardy, Or Trivial Pursuit, What need is there to take this subject in school? I asked this very question in every History class I ever attended. The teachers always had an answer; "History repeats itself." Or "Those who don't recall history, are destined to relive it!" Or a famous quote by Winston Churchill; "The further back you look in to history, the farther ahead you will see into the future."
And every time I heard this litany, I would roll my eyes and say "WAH, WAH, WAH, WAAAH!" like the sound made by adults talking to Charlie Brown in a Peanuts cartoon. While these were valid and true statements, they were tantamount to quoting the bible when questioning the existence of the bible's stories. Or using evolution to explain how life came to be. It may be sufficient in the eyes of the believers. But I wasn't so easily convinced. And while most of my history teachers after the 4th grade, considered me and my skeptical reaction as me jst being stubborn or rude and looking for trouble. The best answer I ever heard came in my Junior year of High School. The history teacher, who was also the football coach, rather then just glower at me, replied; "If you don't learn the real history, how will you know what is true when someone tries to tell you a different version?"
Coach William Parrish, From Jacksonville, N.C. God bless you, wherever you are!
Not only was this a realistic answer to a very serious question I had been asking for years. It has proven to be most prophetic. I recently read a blog where a woman said she didn't understand why we celebrate Washington's birthday along with Lincoln's Birthday. "The only thing Washington ever did was to chop down a cherry tree, and not lie about it when caught with the evidence sitting on the ground beside him."
Granted she stated quite clearly that she was "no historian." But she got her back up like a cat in a corner when I agreed in a comment that she was "no historian."
Okay get ready to close your eyes and ears. 'Cause I'm about to use a couple of cuss words:
KEITH OLBERMANN, RACHEL MADDOW and MSNBC!
Sorry for using profanity in public. I don't like it anymore than you! But for the truth sake it was necessary. If you want an example of history being retaught to have a different outcome from what was taught back in the good old days. Just give these three a chance to teach your children about America's past.
Next time "A Yaqui way of knowledge."
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
A Seperate Reality
When last we spoke, the young KWarrior had rejected the religious views of his family and his youth. But the search for Absolute Truth was still deeply rooted in my mind. Science was my tool-box. Logic was now the scale, by which all things were measured. But I was not going to be fooled again. Just because it was written in a book, even a science book, it was proof of nothng! I would not accept anything on blind faith again. The Scientific Method had rules. And the Science books in school were filled with copious violations of the method, and I questioned everything that was written down as a proof, without the principal of repeated observation being adhered to!
I was also an insatiable reader. My Senior English Teacher handed out a two page list of books (Approximately 125 titles) from which we were required to pick ten, and and read for the year. Great books. Some old, others relatively new. Steinbeck, Stoker, Dickens, Melville, Robert A. Heinlein, Arthur C. Clark, Isaac Asimov, J. Fenimore Cooper, J.D. Salinger, Ken Kesey, Hunter S. Thompson, Truman Capote, George Washington Carver, Harriet B. Stowe, Abbie Hoffman, Karl Marx, Groucho Marx, Sun Tsu, John A. Stormer, Robert Louis Stevenson and Geoffrey Chaucer.
By the mid-term I had read every book on the list. But I'm no speed reader. And I was curious beyond just the story being told. The facts around the story were of great interest to me. But back in 197?, there was no Information Superhighway. And if there had been, it is very unlikely that an on ramp would have existed in Podunk, North Carolina. But I had a library card and a very recent edition of The Encyclopedia Americana. So my quest for truth required a little more leg work than it takes today. However in those days I had two good legs and wasn't afraid to use them.
One good example of my quest for knowledge and truth came about after reading the Herman Melville classic "Moby Dick." It was a story of a Sea Captain on a quest to kill a whale. This wasn't your average "Free Willy" whale. This was a blood thirsty, man killing, ship wrecking, white whale. The story was filled to the brim with genuine naughtical terms. It almost required a dictionary to get through. And it was quite apparent that Herman had some practical experience as an able bodied seaman. The biggest question asked by the English teacher, "What was the motivation behind Melville's villainy of the whale? Or, "What did the whale represent?" And literary commentators have hundreds of opinions on that subject. But only history holds the truth. Melville did go to sea as a deck hand on a Massachusetts whaling ship. But the Whale attack was not a far flung story of vivid imagination. It had roots in reality. On November 20, 1820 a Nantucket Whaling Ship named "Essex" was repeatedly rammed and sunk by a large sperm whale while the Essex was killing members of its pod. Most of the crew was lost to the sea and treachery at the hands of other survivors. And approximately three months later another whaler named Daufin found two survivors in a small boat. While a British merchant ship found and rescued others on an uninhabited island in the Pitcairns. Melville's story was strange, Yet true. So my answer to the questions, was; "Whales are sentient, intelligent creatures that were capable of revenge and grief."
Okay so maybe I was a nerd. and a hippie! But I lettered in Football, Wrestling and Baseball. I apologize to those of you who thought this was going to be a story of a person who fought the bullies and stereotyping of my outward appearances. That may be a story for another time. This story is about my quest for TRUTH. The whole Truth and nothing but ULTIMATE TRUTH!
I was also an insatiable reader. My Senior English Teacher handed out a two page list of books (Approximately 125 titles) from which we were required to pick ten, and and read for the year. Great books. Some old, others relatively new. Steinbeck, Stoker, Dickens, Melville, Robert A. Heinlein, Arthur C. Clark, Isaac Asimov, J. Fenimore Cooper, J.D. Salinger, Ken Kesey, Hunter S. Thompson, Truman Capote, George Washington Carver, Harriet B. Stowe, Abbie Hoffman, Karl Marx, Groucho Marx, Sun Tsu, John A. Stormer, Robert Louis Stevenson and Geoffrey Chaucer.
By the mid-term I had read every book on the list. But I'm no speed reader. And I was curious beyond just the story being told. The facts around the story were of great interest to me. But back in 197?, there was no Information Superhighway. And if there had been, it is very unlikely that an on ramp would have existed in Podunk, North Carolina. But I had a library card and a very recent edition of The Encyclopedia Americana. So my quest for truth required a little more leg work than it takes today. However in those days I had two good legs and wasn't afraid to use them.
One good example of my quest for knowledge and truth came about after reading the Herman Melville classic "Moby Dick." It was a story of a Sea Captain on a quest to kill a whale. This wasn't your average "Free Willy" whale. This was a blood thirsty, man killing, ship wrecking, white whale. The story was filled to the brim with genuine naughtical terms. It almost required a dictionary to get through. And it was quite apparent that Herman had some practical experience as an able bodied seaman. The biggest question asked by the English teacher, "What was the motivation behind Melville's villainy of the whale? Or, "What did the whale represent?" And literary commentators have hundreds of opinions on that subject. But only history holds the truth. Melville did go to sea as a deck hand on a Massachusetts whaling ship. But the Whale attack was not a far flung story of vivid imagination. It had roots in reality. On November 20, 1820 a Nantucket Whaling Ship named "Essex" was repeatedly rammed and sunk by a large sperm whale while the Essex was killing members of its pod. Most of the crew was lost to the sea and treachery at the hands of other survivors. And approximately three months later another whaler named Daufin found two survivors in a small boat. While a British merchant ship found and rescued others on an uninhabited island in the Pitcairns. Melville's story was strange, Yet true. So my answer to the questions, was; "Whales are sentient, intelligent creatures that were capable of revenge and grief."
Okay so maybe I was a nerd. and a hippie! But I lettered in Football, Wrestling and Baseball. I apologize to those of you who thought this was going to be a story of a person who fought the bullies and stereotyping of my outward appearances. That may be a story for another time. This story is about my quest for TRUTH. The whole Truth and nothing but ULTIMATE TRUTH!
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Dichotomy
OK! I won't make you look that one up in a dictionary.
It means: Something that appears to be one thing. But is either something opposite or unexpectedly different from what it appeared to be.
The dictionary says:
Well this word, Dichotomy, is the story of my life. People take one look or listen at me and assume that they know all there is to know about me. In Grammar School I attended a Catholic School. Right in the middle of "The Bible Belt" of The Coastal Plains of North Carolina. I wore a white button down dress shirt, dark blue pants and a blue neck tie to school, everyday since first grade. And since I walked to and from school everyday, I was forced to run a gauntlet of local public schoolers who thought that because I was dressed like a nerd, they could bully me around. But, I had learned to use my hands to inflict great discomfort from one of the cruelest people God had ever let draw breath. So these bumpkins were in for a lesson. But whenever I showed up at home with with grass stains or blood on my clothes, I was in trouble for "playing in my school clothes."
In the 4th grade a Jesuit Priest taught me how to question authority. Especially dogmatic authority. And despite what you may think! Not any of the priests I knew or met where molesters. I was a choirboy, an altarboy and a boyscout at the local Catholic Church. And no one ever approached me in an unethical manner. But the Jesuit had no idea what mentality level lay behind the blue eyes he had empowered. And when I couldn't find suitable answers to the questions I had. I rejected my faith and turned to science. When I transferred to the government school, I should have gone to the 7th grade. But for reasons unknown to me still, they put me in the 6th grade. The public school 6th graders were learning science and history and math at levels I had mastered in the 3rd grade. So I was branded a nerd by my class mates and a troublemaker by my teachers.
When a friend asked me to go to a Baptist Church with his family one Sunday. I immediately remembered the words of Sister Anastasia. "If you ever go to a Protestant Church you will burn in Hell for eternity." So when I crossed the threshold of the Narthex and I didn't burst into flames, I was greatly relieved. But on that day, I also found out that Catholics weren't Christians anyway. The Pastor said it in the pulpit. And the teacher echoed it in the Sunday school later that day. Well who was that person hanging on the cross in the Catholic Church? Who had died for my sins? Who was that guy? So I rejected all religion. To me, God remained the the Everlasting Creator of the universe. But, my opinion of "religion" was echoed in the declarations of Marxist Philosophy "Religion is the opiate of the masses."
And long before the Beatles invaded America with their mop-top hair dos, I was wearing hair down to my collar in complete rebellion to the self inflicted haircuts my father forced on me as a Marine brat. It had nothing to do with politics or rejection of my country. And when I went to a high school in the sticks, I really got a dose of prejudice. To the teachers I was the embodiment of evil incarnate. But since I was a straight "A" student they could only accuse me of cheating. I was forced to retake exams and rewrite papers with supervision. My biology teacher was particularly accusing. He was dumbfound that I could just stare into space while he recited the science book, which I had already memorized before the first week of class, and still Aced his tests and pop-quizzes. So we would go to the principal's office and I would take another exam, written for just such an occasion, with Mr. Dizney and a Secretary watching.
And while this was annoying. It was nothing compared to the crap I got from the boys in the AG Shop. The teachers who taught Carpentry classes were all three missing fingers. So imagine me wanting to learn how to use a band saw from those guys. Not very likely. And almost every white male student was a member of the local neo-Nazi youth club. And they all wore the uniform. A royal Blue corduroy jacket with an Organizational Patch on the back. The patch was a sun gold yellow bisected ear of corn with the letters "FFA" emblazoned in the center. Most of the time between classes and lunch, they congregated outside the AG Shop building, smoking cigarettes and building the "Good Old Boys Club" to legendary status. But every once in awhile they found time to add me to their agenda of things to correct about modern society's troubles. Most of the time it was just an excursion into verbal abuse. "Faggot", "Queer" "Nigger-Lover" and the ever popular words of the day: "Hippie" and "Dope-Smoker."
Despite the fact that none of those names was accurate! Every now and then these Good Old Country Boys just couldn't resist the temptation to "teach me a real lesson."
Next time: A "Haircut! Or: Assault With a Deadly Weapon?"
It means: Something that appears to be one thing. But is either something opposite or unexpectedly different from what it appeared to be.
The dictionary says:
Etymology: Greek dichotomia, from dichotomos
1 : a division into two especially mutually exclusive or contradictory groups or entities; also : the process or practice of making such a division
2 : the phase of the moon or an inferior planet in which half its disk appears illuminated
3 a : bifurcation; especially : repeated bifurcation (as of a plant's stem) b : a system of branching in which the main axis forks repeatedly into two branches c : branching of an ancestral line into two equal diverging branches
4 : something with seemingly contradictory qualities
1 : a division into two especially mutually exclusive or contradictory groups or entities
2 : the phase of the moon or an inferior planet in which half its disk appears illuminated
3 a : bifurcation; especially : repeated bifurcation (as of a plant's stem) b : a system of branching in which the main axis forks repeatedly into two branches c : branching of an ancestral line into two equal diverging branches
4 : something with seemingly contradictory qualities
Well this word, Dichotomy, is the story of my life. People take one look or listen at me and assume that they know all there is to know about me. In Grammar School I attended a Catholic School. Right in the middle of "The Bible Belt" of The Coastal Plains of North Carolina. I wore a white button down dress shirt, dark blue pants and a blue neck tie to school, everyday since first grade. And since I walked to and from school everyday, I was forced to run a gauntlet of local public schoolers who thought that because I was dressed like a nerd, they could bully me around. But, I had learned to use my hands to inflict great discomfort from one of the cruelest people God had ever let draw breath. So these bumpkins were in for a lesson. But whenever I showed up at home with with grass stains or blood on my clothes, I was in trouble for "playing in my school clothes."
In the 4th grade a Jesuit Priest taught me how to question authority. Especially dogmatic authority. And despite what you may think! Not any of the priests I knew or met where molesters. I was a choirboy, an altarboy and a boyscout at the local Catholic Church. And no one ever approached me in an unethical manner. But the Jesuit had no idea what mentality level lay behind the blue eyes he had empowered. And when I couldn't find suitable answers to the questions I had. I rejected my faith and turned to science. When I transferred to the government school, I should have gone to the 7th grade. But for reasons unknown to me still, they put me in the 6th grade. The public school 6th graders were learning science and history and math at levels I had mastered in the 3rd grade. So I was branded a nerd by my class mates and a troublemaker by my teachers.
When a friend asked me to go to a Baptist Church with his family one Sunday. I immediately remembered the words of Sister Anastasia. "If you ever go to a Protestant Church you will burn in Hell for eternity." So when I crossed the threshold of the Narthex and I didn't burst into flames, I was greatly relieved. But on that day, I also found out that Catholics weren't Christians anyway. The Pastor said it in the pulpit. And the teacher echoed it in the Sunday school later that day. Well who was that person hanging on the cross in the Catholic Church? Who had died for my sins? Who was that guy? So I rejected all religion. To me, God remained the the Everlasting Creator of the universe. But, my opinion of "religion" was echoed in the declarations of Marxist Philosophy "Religion is the opiate of the masses."
And long before the Beatles invaded America with their mop-top hair dos, I was wearing hair down to my collar in complete rebellion to the self inflicted haircuts my father forced on me as a Marine brat. It had nothing to do with politics or rejection of my country. And when I went to a high school in the sticks, I really got a dose of prejudice. To the teachers I was the embodiment of evil incarnate. But since I was a straight "A" student they could only accuse me of cheating. I was forced to retake exams and rewrite papers with supervision. My biology teacher was particularly accusing. He was dumbfound that I could just stare into space while he recited the science book, which I had already memorized before the first week of class, and still Aced his tests and pop-quizzes. So we would go to the principal's office and I would take another exam, written for just such an occasion, with Mr. Dizney and a Secretary watching.
And while this was annoying. It was nothing compared to the crap I got from the boys in the AG Shop. The teachers who taught Carpentry classes were all three missing fingers. So imagine me wanting to learn how to use a band saw from those guys. Not very likely. And almost every white male student was a member of the local neo-Nazi youth club. And they all wore the uniform. A royal Blue corduroy jacket with an Organizational Patch on the back. The patch was a sun gold yellow bisected ear of corn with the letters "FFA" emblazoned in the center. Most of the time between classes and lunch, they congregated outside the AG Shop building, smoking cigarettes and building the "Good Old Boys Club" to legendary status. But every once in awhile they found time to add me to their agenda of things to correct about modern society's troubles. Most of the time it was just an excursion into verbal abuse. "Faggot", "Queer" "Nigger-Lover" and the ever popular words of the day: "Hippie" and "Dope-Smoker."
Despite the fact that none of those names was accurate! Every now and then these Good Old Country Boys just couldn't resist the temptation to "teach me a real lesson."
Next time: A "Haircut! Or: Assault With a Deadly Weapon?"
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Name your fear...
When I was young, my life was unencumbered by fears. If you've been following my story for awhile, you'll recall I'm no stranger to danger. And that I faced my mortality on more than one occasion. But I became fascinated by fear in 1980. Not just fear, but panic inducing, pulse quickening, fight or flight, PHOBIA.
I was stationed is Sunny San Diego, for advanced electronics school and a specialized fire-control computer school. And I took a part time job at the then named "San Diego, Jack Murphy Stadium." As a tried and true, bleeding Carolina Blue, Tarheel. We had no pro sports franchises back then, and were free to pick from any in America to root for. My favorites were The Lakers, The Cowboys, and anyone playing against The Yankees.
But ever since being stationed in San Diego. First in 1973. I have been a die hard Chargers fan. And during my second job, as a Parking Lot Security Patrolman, I was allowed to go watch the game after the first quarter ended.
This particular game was against the Oakland Raiders. A team that still leaves a bad taste in my mouth. And by the third quarter it was a sure thing that my Chargers were going to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory once more. Back in those days, the Chargers had the most powerful offense Pro Football had ever seen. But our defense couldn't stop an old lady from crossing the street. Despite 55,000 rabid fans screaming "Raiders Suck! Raiders Suck!" at the top of their voices. I couldn't watch my team fold like a cheap politician again. So I headed for the parking lot. Plus being on a motorcycle with 20,000 cars filled with half drunk, pissed off SoCal drivers was against all sound reason.
I was half way to my bike when I heard footsteps running towards me. I wheeled around to face the charge. And headed straight for me was a beautiful young woman. I was 28, unattached emotionally and quite used to pretty women throwing themselves at me. But this one was coming really fast. All I needed to do, was to twist at the hips and she would pass as harmlessly as a warm breeze. But she would probably go face first into the asphalt. While that may have been good for a laugh, I didn't have the heart for it. And if she was an enraged, drunk fan, it could end badly for my job. So I braced for impact and absorbed the charge by stepping back and catching her in a bear hug. She reached around my waist with both arms inside my unzipped leather jacket and panted into my ear "Help me!"
I went into fight mode and began to survey the surroundings for the danger from which she was fleeing. My spidy sense was not tingling, and I saw no one within 20 yards of us. I tried to push her back a little so I could look at her eyes and ask her "What's this about?" I must have been in one of those magnetic flux zones. Or my magnetic personality was set on stun. Because I couldn't push her away without hurting her. She had her head buried in my chest and she kept chanting "Help me!" between deep gasps for breath.
My mother told me there would be women like this.
She told me: "If a woman ever hugs you really close. And she begins to breathe really deeply. And her heart begins to race. And she feels really warm in your arms. Getaway Quick. She has Typhoid!"
Well I didn't think she had typhoid. But something was bugging this lady. And she wouldn't budge. So I tangled the fingers of my right hand into the hair on the back of her head. And slowly, yet firmly pulled her head back so she was looking up into my face. Her eyes were filled with terror. And they were locked on to mine like lasers.
What's the problem lady?" I asked her. She was trembling like a blind nudist at a weenie roast. After several long moments to catch her breath, she finally stammered. "I have Agoraphobia."
My immediate thoughts were Dang California Hippies! and I asked her "How many did you take?"
She smiled and asked "Where are you from? I really like your accent."
I said "Lady! You're all over me like a drunk prom date. And NOW! you want an introduction? What the hell is agrafoba?"
"Agoraphobia." she corrected. "It's a fear of open spaces. I thought if I was with my friends at the game I'd be OK. But I felt that place sucking my soul away. I came out here to sit in the car. But when I got to the car, it was locked. And you looked safe. So I came over to you."
I have been called many things to my face. But SAFE! was never one of them. And she was still wrapped around me like that prom queen I mentioned earlier. I asked her if she was married. I didn't need this to turn into a domestic disturbance. She told me she was not. And the death lock around my waist tightened ever so slightly. OK. She has a mental disorder and is clutching me like a pro-wrestler. There has to be an escape move in here somewhere. And even though she was very easy on the eyes and it felt nice to be in her arms. And the smell of Gauloise by Molyneux perfume was swirling around her. I couldn't just stand there forever. So I asked her what she wanted me to do.
She asked me to drive her to the 7-11 down the road.
"Are you sure you don't want me to take you back to your friends?"
Her cobra clutch was now a serious strangle hold around my midsection.
"NO!" she yelped!
The terror was back. And almost at the crescendo it started with I explained that I was riding a motorbike and that I wasn't sure she would be able to take that kind of ride. She begged me to not leave her. So I agreed to walk with her to the 7-11 and let her call for a ride and wait with her until it came. So we marched the 1/4 mile to the store, like a couple of twins joined at the hip. I put her into a cab when it came.Tossed the driver a Twenty and watched her leave me in wide eyed wonder and amazement.
And later that weekend in the local library I began my scientific study of Phobias. Not your garden variety fear of heights or scared of the dark. But life changing, crippling phobia. I have witnessed my types of phobics. People who are terrified by mundane things. Things like Clowns, Dolls, Puppets, closets, dogs snakes, spiders, bridges, escalators, butterflies and grasshoppers. So tell me what thing or things puts fear in your heart. I've seen them all. Well, actually I've never met a real live Homophobic! But I hear they are everywhere.
I was stationed is Sunny San Diego, for advanced electronics school and a specialized fire-control computer school. And I took a part time job at the then named "San Diego, Jack Murphy Stadium." As a tried and true, bleeding Carolina Blue, Tarheel. We had no pro sports franchises back then, and were free to pick from any in America to root for. My favorites were The Lakers, The Cowboys, and anyone playing against The Yankees.
But ever since being stationed in San Diego. First in 1973. I have been a die hard Chargers fan. And during my second job, as a Parking Lot Security Patrolman, I was allowed to go watch the game after the first quarter ended.
This particular game was against the Oakland Raiders. A team that still leaves a bad taste in my mouth. And by the third quarter it was a sure thing that my Chargers were going to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory once more. Back in those days, the Chargers had the most powerful offense Pro Football had ever seen. But our defense couldn't stop an old lady from crossing the street. Despite 55,000 rabid fans screaming "Raiders Suck! Raiders Suck!" at the top of their voices. I couldn't watch my team fold like a cheap politician again. So I headed for the parking lot. Plus being on a motorcycle with 20,000 cars filled with half drunk, pissed off SoCal drivers was against all sound reason.
I was half way to my bike when I heard footsteps running towards me. I wheeled around to face the charge. And headed straight for me was a beautiful young woman. I was 28, unattached emotionally and quite used to pretty women throwing themselves at me. But this one was coming really fast. All I needed to do, was to twist at the hips and she would pass as harmlessly as a warm breeze. But she would probably go face first into the asphalt. While that may have been good for a laugh, I didn't have the heart for it. And if she was an enraged, drunk fan, it could end badly for my job. So I braced for impact and absorbed the charge by stepping back and catching her in a bear hug. She reached around my waist with both arms inside my unzipped leather jacket and panted into my ear "Help me!"
I went into fight mode and began to survey the surroundings for the danger from which she was fleeing. My spidy sense was not tingling, and I saw no one within 20 yards of us. I tried to push her back a little so I could look at her eyes and ask her "What's this about?" I must have been in one of those magnetic flux zones. Or my magnetic personality was set on stun. Because I couldn't push her away without hurting her. She had her head buried in my chest and she kept chanting "Help me!" between deep gasps for breath.
My mother told me there would be women like this.
She told me: "If a woman ever hugs you really close. And she begins to breathe really deeply. And her heart begins to race. And she feels really warm in your arms. Getaway Quick. She has Typhoid!"
Well I didn't think she had typhoid. But something was bugging this lady. And she wouldn't budge. So I tangled the fingers of my right hand into the hair on the back of her head. And slowly, yet firmly pulled her head back so she was looking up into my face. Her eyes were filled with terror. And they were locked on to mine like lasers.
What's the problem lady?" I asked her. She was trembling like a blind nudist at a weenie roast. After several long moments to catch her breath, she finally stammered. "I have Agoraphobia."
My immediate thoughts were Dang California Hippies! and I asked her "How many did you take?"
She smiled and asked "Where are you from? I really like your accent."
I said "Lady! You're all over me like a drunk prom date. And NOW! you want an introduction? What the hell is agrafoba?"
"Agoraphobia." she corrected. "It's a fear of open spaces. I thought if I was with my friends at the game I'd be OK. But I felt that place sucking my soul away. I came out here to sit in the car. But when I got to the car, it was locked. And you looked safe. So I came over to you."
I have been called many things to my face. But SAFE! was never one of them. And she was still wrapped around me like that prom queen I mentioned earlier. I asked her if she was married. I didn't need this to turn into a domestic disturbance. She told me she was not. And the death lock around my waist tightened ever so slightly. OK. She has a mental disorder and is clutching me like a pro-wrestler. There has to be an escape move in here somewhere. And even though she was very easy on the eyes and it felt nice to be in her arms. And the smell of Gauloise by Molyneux perfume was swirling around her. I couldn't just stand there forever. So I asked her what she wanted me to do.
She asked me to drive her to the 7-11 down the road.
"Are you sure you don't want me to take you back to your friends?"
Her cobra clutch was now a serious strangle hold around my midsection.
"NO!" she yelped!
The terror was back. And almost at the crescendo it started with I explained that I was riding a motorbike and that I wasn't sure she would be able to take that kind of ride. She begged me to not leave her. So I agreed to walk with her to the 7-11 and let her call for a ride and wait with her until it came. So we marched the 1/4 mile to the store, like a couple of twins joined at the hip. I put her into a cab when it came.Tossed the driver a Twenty and watched her leave me in wide eyed wonder and amazement.
And later that weekend in the local library I began my scientific study of Phobias. Not your garden variety fear of heights or scared of the dark. But life changing, crippling phobia. I have witnessed my types of phobics. People who are terrified by mundane things. Things like Clowns, Dolls, Puppets, closets, dogs snakes, spiders, bridges, escalators, butterflies and grasshoppers. So tell me what thing or things puts fear in your heart. I've seen them all. Well, actually I've never met a real live Homophobic! But I hear they are everywhere.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
A Crucifixion. Or a Cruci-fiction?
They further added that the Leader of The Catholic League, Bill Donohue, was demanding Lindsay to apologize. AJ, Brooke and a couple of guest rumor mongers all concurred. Although they all professed to being either non-Christians or Jewish, they were all offended.
Well let me see if I can offend them also! (You are also free to be offended by everything I say. Welcome to America).
Since a picture is worth a thousand words. You may take the above picture to mean anything you want. But please, tell me how this looks like Christ on the Tree of Woe? Where are the cuts and bruising from the scourging? Where are the nails and blood? WHERE IS THE CROSS?
The commentators went on to say "She was dressed in white, Just like Jesus. Well folks check your bibles, John 19:23-24 says: "
23When the soldiers crucified Jesus, they took his clothes, dividing them into four shares, one for each of them, with the undergarment remaining. This garment was seamless, woven in one piece from top to bottom.
24“Let’s not tear it,” they said to one another. “Let’s decide by lot who will get it.”
Jesus was naked. Stripped of all clothes and dignity. He was sentenced to suffer death in the most grotesque and humiliating way known at that time. So while you may find the picture of Lindsay Lohan reprehensible, offensive and in poor taste. I see a picture of a woman in a white jumpsuit, showing you how big the fish she just caught was. Get off the "Victim List." Since when did CNN Entertainment News become the protector of Christian Rights? A time of great persecution may or may not happen in your lifetime. But this ain't it. And this isn't how it starts.
A smile never increases in price or declines in value. Invest in one today!
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
It's a new Foundation
I have recently become aware of a new foundation. It is called the FFRF. Freedom From Religion Foundation. I was surprised to find such a foundation. Not because I object to freedom of religion. Or even freedom FROM religion. I was struck by the hypocrisy of the name. Shall we examine this name? Oh yes! Most certainly. What is it they want? FREEDOM! Freedom is something we take for granted here in the USA. It is our birthright. We get it from our Constitution. Right? Have you ever read the 17 pages that comprise our constitution? Or the original 4 pages that it started out with? Well I have and apparently the FFRF has not. The US Constitution does not grant rights to the citizens. It states clearly what rights the government may not interfere with (bad grammer, I know). Our Freedom is endowed to us by our Creator. As stated in "The Declaration Of Independence." But just for argument sake let's roll with this punch and see what all the gripping is about.
RELIGION!
The Site Dictionary.com defines religion as:
–noun
1. a set of beliefs concerning the cause, nature, and purpose of the universe, esp. when considered as the creation of a superhuman agency or agencies, usually involving devotional and ritual observances, and often containing a moral code governing the conduct of human affairs.
2. a specific fundamental set of beliefs and practices generally agreed upon by a number of persons or sects: the Christian religion; the Buddhist religion.
3. the body of persons adhering to a particular set of beliefs and practices: a world council of religions.
Well I submit that The FFRF is its own Religion. Its own set of morals. Its own set of Dogmatic thinking. They call themselves "Free Thinkers." Because they aren't forced to think something someone else tells them to think. But try to stray from their point of view on any issue and see if you aren't burned as a heretic in the village square.
They must attend the Cathedrals of Academia. And graduate to the level of Bachelor (DEACON) or Doctor (ELDER). They must Grovel at the boots of other Freethinkers. Like Karl Marx and Charles Darwin. And pay homage to the current big brains. They try to minimize the efforts of Scientists that believed in a Creator (NEWTON and EINSTEIN). And they try to advance the thoughts of those who have no such impairment (HAWKING).
They protest against The Bible, but have never read it. They all claim to believe in The Big Bang. And most can't tell you the difference between a quasar and a pulsar. Or a Black Hole and a Neutrino.
They honor Celebrity. Their awards are Fame and Fortune.
They worship the Almighty dollar.
They chastise those who freethink their way into believing in a Creator God, as being foolish and ignorant.
They adhere to the Dogma of Science. And accept by faith those things that science doesn't prove. And they continually have to update their beliefs as new evidence proves old theories wrong. Or they castigate any of their own who finds something that doesn't fit into their currently accepted model system. They call it peer review. And if they can't get enough of their peers to go along. They are cast out of the congregation and called incompetent or unreliable.
Their creator is the Cosmos. And the possibility of Infinite Chance.
Their savior and benefactor is The Government.
They live in the "Land of The FEE. And The Home Of The Blame."
And then they sacrifice their unborn children on the altar of "Free Choice" and "Women's Equality."
Don't get me wrong. I'm in favor of Freedom of Religion. Even the freedom FROM Religion. But as soon as you form a group with similar beliefs and rituals. You have started a RELIGION.
Call it:
Atheism, Agnosticism, Darwinian Evolutionist, Catholicism, Baptist, Presbyterian, Creationism, Marxism, Communism, Buddhism, Judaism, Humanism, Islam, or Free Thinker. You are in a religious order. The only questions left are "Who or What do you believe." And "Are you in the clergy? Or the laity?"
Love me! Love my dogma!
RELIGION!
The Site Dictionary.com defines religion as:
–noun
1. a set of beliefs concerning the cause, nature, and purpose of the universe, esp. when considered as the creation of a superhuman agency or agencies, usually involving devotional and ritual observances, and often containing a moral code governing the conduct of human affairs.
2. a specific fundamental set of beliefs and practices generally agreed upon by a number of persons or sects: the Christian religion; the Buddhist religion.
3. the body of persons adhering to a particular set of beliefs and practices: a world council of religions.
Well I submit that The FFRF is its own Religion. Its own set of morals. Its own set of Dogmatic thinking. They call themselves "Free Thinkers." Because they aren't forced to think something someone else tells them to think. But try to stray from their point of view on any issue and see if you aren't burned as a heretic in the village square.
They must attend the Cathedrals of Academia. And graduate to the level of Bachelor (DEACON) or Doctor (ELDER). They must Grovel at the boots of other Freethinkers. Like Karl Marx and Charles Darwin. And pay homage to the current big brains. They try to minimize the efforts of Scientists that believed in a Creator (NEWTON and EINSTEIN). And they try to advance the thoughts of those who have no such impairment (HAWKING).
They protest against The Bible, but have never read it. They all claim to believe in The Big Bang. And most can't tell you the difference between a quasar and a pulsar. Or a Black Hole and a Neutrino.
They honor Celebrity. Their awards are Fame and Fortune.
They worship the Almighty dollar.
They chastise those who freethink their way into believing in a Creator God, as being foolish and ignorant.
They adhere to the Dogma of Science. And accept by faith those things that science doesn't prove. And they continually have to update their beliefs as new evidence proves old theories wrong. Or they castigate any of their own who finds something that doesn't fit into their currently accepted model system. They call it peer review. And if they can't get enough of their peers to go along. They are cast out of the congregation and called incompetent or unreliable.
Their creator is the Cosmos. And the possibility of Infinite Chance.
Their savior and benefactor is The Government.
They live in the "Land of The FEE. And The Home Of The Blame."
And then they sacrifice their unborn children on the altar of "Free Choice" and "Women's Equality."
Don't get me wrong. I'm in favor of Freedom of Religion. Even the freedom FROM Religion. But as soon as you form a group with similar beliefs and rituals. You have started a RELIGION.
Call it:
Atheism, Agnosticism, Darwinian Evolutionist, Catholicism, Baptist, Presbyterian, Creationism, Marxism, Communism, Buddhism, Judaism, Humanism, Islam, or Free Thinker. You are in a religious order. The only questions left are "Who or What do you believe." And "Are you in the clergy? Or the laity?"
Love me! Love my dogma!
Monday, February 15, 2010
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Just another day in paradise..
Here in SoCal (Southern California) the weather has been just grand for the past few weeks. And particularly nice yesterday. It was 78°, with a light breeze out of the east. The sky was tall and blue. Not Carolina Blue. But The Carolinas didn't see much blue yesterday anyway. So in light of the beautiful day The Lord had made for me, I went out on the front porch to soak up some much needed vitamin D. Yes, my house in the Gay People's Republic of California, has a genuine old fashion front porch, with a rail and a roof. My house is at the top of a hill that overlooks the small town I now call home. I have great neighbors. Wonderful people who mind their business and let me mind mine. We help each other when there is need. And we gather on the sidewalk to debate the issues of the day.
Well there I was. Sitting on the porch. Head tilted slightly toward the sun, eyes closed, hearing the birds chirping, without listening to them. Drifting into that place I go when all is right with my mind. It's a dark, warm, safe place. You wouldn't like it. Nobody who has ever visited my special place has liked it. That's OK! I don't like company in there anyway. There be monsters in thar! Little gray squirrels, juggling meat cleavers. Shiny meat cleavers. Sharp, shiny meat cleavers. Black handled, sharp, shiny meat cleavers. Icy cold, black handled, sharp, shiny...
"Hey! How's it going Dude?"
Okay I watch squirrels juggle in my mind. But they don't talk. Especially to me. So I opened my eyes and before me stands a man. Approximately 30 years old and 20 pounds over the ideal weight for his average height. His name is Gary. He made his millions as an employee at Qualcomm back in the late nineties. And now he's retired and collects and restores 60s and 70s muscle cars. He lives a few doors down the street from me. And now he's standing on my porch. And he's waiting for and answer to his question. Normally I'd say something folksy like "Finer than Frog's hair." or "Smoother Than Turtle Fur." But I was still watching the cleavers hit the deck and I shot back my standard response to such an inquiry:
"Just another day in paradise. What can I do for you?"
Gary is one of those rare individuals. Born, raised, educated, employed and now retired in San Diego. Intelligent. But in a school book kind of way. He considers himself well traveled because he goes to Baja on fishing trips. Despite the fact that his chartered boat leaves and returns from a marina in San Diego, and never goes into port in Mexico.
"I was watching an old movie last night and I had a question about it." Great! Here comes the Old Guy Jokes!
"What do you want to know, Gary?" I was setting up the gag and playing the straight man to his routine.
"Well, I was watching 'Deliverance' and I wanted to know a little bit about what was going on in that movie. I know you're from the South, so I was wondering if you could tell me what those 'Redneck Hillbillies' were doing with those city boys?"
"Really?" I asked. "You're a grown, educated, modern man and you never saw people do that before?"
":Well not really!" he smirked.
This kid was asking for it. And he came to the right place to get it. I have been in fist fight on every continent on this planet. This youngster's farthest venture away from his home was a few trips to Disneyland and Knott's Berry Farm. And I'm the hick!!!
"Are you positive you don't know what they were doing?" I didn't want to educate this child if I didn't have to. I cocked my head to one side like a puppy, and glared at him. If looks could kill he'd be grabbing his crotch and rolling on the floor.
"Not a clue." was his remark.
So I told him straight out. Like yanking a band-aid off to get it over with fast.
"They were playing a banjo."
Have a Great Valentine's Day,Y'all!!!
_____________________________________
Well there I was. Sitting on the porch. Head tilted slightly toward the sun, eyes closed, hearing the birds chirping, without listening to them. Drifting into that place I go when all is right with my mind. It's a dark, warm, safe place. You wouldn't like it. Nobody who has ever visited my special place has liked it. That's OK! I don't like company in there anyway. There be monsters in thar! Little gray squirrels, juggling meat cleavers. Shiny meat cleavers. Sharp, shiny meat cleavers. Black handled, sharp, shiny meat cleavers. Icy cold, black handled, sharp, shiny...
"Hey! How's it going Dude?"
Okay I watch squirrels juggle in my mind. But they don't talk. Especially to me. So I opened my eyes and before me stands a man. Approximately 30 years old and 20 pounds over the ideal weight for his average height. His name is Gary. He made his millions as an employee at Qualcomm back in the late nineties. And now he's retired and collects and restores 60s and 70s muscle cars. He lives a few doors down the street from me. And now he's standing on my porch. And he's waiting for and answer to his question. Normally I'd say something folksy like "Finer than Frog's hair." or "Smoother Than Turtle Fur." But I was still watching the cleavers hit the deck and I shot back my standard response to such an inquiry:
"Just another day in paradise. What can I do for you?"
Gary is one of those rare individuals. Born, raised, educated, employed and now retired in San Diego. Intelligent. But in a school book kind of way. He considers himself well traveled because he goes to Baja on fishing trips. Despite the fact that his chartered boat leaves and returns from a marina in San Diego, and never goes into port in Mexico.
"I was watching an old movie last night and I had a question about it." Great! Here comes the Old Guy Jokes!
"What do you want to know, Gary?" I was setting up the gag and playing the straight man to his routine.
"Well, I was watching 'Deliverance' and I wanted to know a little bit about what was going on in that movie. I know you're from the South, so I was wondering if you could tell me what those 'Redneck Hillbillies' were doing with those city boys?"
"Really?" I asked. "You're a grown, educated, modern man and you never saw people do that before?"
":Well not really!" he smirked.
This kid was asking for it. And he came to the right place to get it. I have been in fist fight on every continent on this planet. This youngster's farthest venture away from his home was a few trips to Disneyland and Knott's Berry Farm. And I'm the hick!!!
"Are you positive you don't know what they were doing?" I didn't want to educate this child if I didn't have to. I cocked my head to one side like a puppy, and glared at him. If looks could kill he'd be grabbing his crotch and rolling on the floor.
"Not a clue." was his remark.
So I told him straight out. Like yanking a band-aid off to get it over with fast.
"They were playing a banjo."
Have a Great Valentine's Day,Y'all!!!
_____________________________________
Saturday, February 13, 2010
GAL-ENTINE'S DAY
Firstly:Women bloggers outnumber the male bloggers by 20-1 at least. That's not a bad thing. Just an observation.
And secondly: Valentine's Day is a big deal to most of you. I have read so many women's stories of disappointment and despair over getting the wrong gift, or worse, no gift on Valentine's Day! Some want flowers and poetry. Others hate flowers, or flowers of a certain type or color. Candy, chocolate in particular, seems a safe bet. Yet some of you get your back up, and ask: "Is he trying to get me fat?" Well how about silver and gold? Diamonds or zircons? Rubies or emeralds? What price do you place on your love? I thought Valentine's Day was a childhood thing. Like Halloween, after a certain age, you weren't supposed to play any more. And I was glad of it! I loathed Valentine's day as a boy. I never got so much as a single card. Even in school I was the only kid who got no cards.
I was an ugly kid! My mother took me everywhere she went. Just so she wouldn't have to kiss me good-bye. I wore a ham-hock on a string around my neck, just to get the puppies to play with me. When my mother took me to the beach, people would ask her "What were you using for bait?" One time at the Zoo, the keepers pointed at me and said "That's why Tigers eat their young." My sister keeps the photos that came with the frame and tells everyone "That's my brother!" And when my teen years began I blossomed from an ugly duckling into a Turkey buzzard. Every autumn when the County Fair came to town I got a job as"The Monkey-Boy." I didn't wear a costume. At Thanksgiving I sat at a separate table, in the garage! And on Halloween I got lots of candy. And I didn't have to go up to the door. People would shoot the candies to me with a slingshot. Kraft Caramels weren't so bad. But the jawbreakers hurt.
But I didn't let it turn me against women. I just wish we could all remember the real reason behind Valentine's day. To commemorate the birth of Saint Valentine!
Friday, February 12, 2010
MOMMA'S. DON'T LET YOUR BIKERS GROW UP TO BE BABIES.
First things first. This particular post was inspired by Kimberly At: Got Blog?
But don't blame her if you don't like where I have taken this...
Today's children have become and sorry bunch. Well it didn't just happen, like some magic spell cast upon the youth of America. Nor was it an accident or a vast conspiracy. But it started back in the generation that I came from. And it has culminated in the children of today. What do you give your children as a gift? Computers? Cell-phones? Nintendos? IPods? XBox 360? Play Station PSP? Art Supplies? Even if you go out on a limb and give a really dangerous gift like a skateboard or a bicycle, you have to include a helmet and elbow pads. And it has gotten so bad it's against the law in most states to ride a bike without a helmet. And give a kid a car ride without a five point restraint system and they post pictures of you in the Daily News and brand you a BAD MOTHER. In my day BAD MOTHER had a completely different meaning. When I was 5 my father used to let me stand on his lap and steer the car. Try that today and you'll be prosecuted for Child Endangerment. Mel Gibson was chastised for showing Children with guns in his movie "The Patriot." I have owned guns since I was 6. But today I can't give my daughter a gun for any reason until some MOTHER in The Government Approves first. There's a lot of MOTHERS out there minding your business. And they have turned your children into a mass of Namby Pamby, Skillet licking, pablum gagging, computer literate, weenies. And try to convince me that you first reaction if you saw a child untethered in the back of a car, that your first reaction isn't to be a MOTHER and call the cops to report a rogue citizen raising a free spirit.
Think back to your childhood. Did you have a car-seat with at least a 3 point restraint system? NO! Did your mom's car have Air-bags (Besides the one she married)? NO! Did she suit you up in crash gear before you rode a Bicycle? NO! Did she only give you crayons with a warning not to eat them? NO? Did anything have a warning label on it? NO! Did she love you? YES!
Let me tell you some of the Toys I got from my mom and grand-mom as a child. A BB Gun. A .22 rifle. A Junior Scientist Chemistry set. A Microscope with glass slides and dissection tools and dye stains. A 300 watt wood-burning tool. An Erector Set. An Electric Slot car and race track. A set of Lawn Darts.
I played Little League Baseball and I wore a helmet. But we kept score. There were winners and losers at every game. And we learned the agony of defeat and the thrill of victory. Your children watch Sesame Street and Barney The Dinosaur! We watched The Three Stooges and Bullwinkle! We had Barbie and G.I. Joe. Your kids have Teddy Ruxpin and Cabbage Patch Dolls. We had BB guns. Your kids have NERF guns. We had steel Horseshoes. Your kids have plastic Horseshoes.
In school I wrote essays of Haunted Houses and Headless Zombies. I got A's in English. I doodled pictures of sword fights and Airplanes shooting other Airplanes and guns with tongues of fire coming from the muzzle. No one cared. If a child draws a gun today, he gets expelled and sent for a psych eval! I had a psych eval. But not until I was grown and was being considered for a position on a Nuclear Weapons Security Team. I never heard what the results of the Evaluation were. But I sat at the Launch Control Panel for 21 years. So I must have passed.
I said earlier that Moms started being MOTHERS back in my generation. While I was eight and watching The Stooges, my mom told me the paper had a story of a boy who had hit his brother on the head with a hammer. And when the parents asked "Why?" He told them he had seen it on the The Three Stooges. My mom asked what I thought about that? I told her "That kid must be a retard!" Right now MOTHERS all over the world just clutched their chest because I used the "R" word. OH! How Insensitive! Well what else would you call a kid who thought it was OK to hit someone in the head with a hammer? RETARD pretty much fits. But in actuality the story belonged to the new genre of BS known now as URBAN LEGENDS.
Nosy MOTHERS Are still spreading these Tales of woe. A few years ago a MOTHER told how her 5 year old son burned down the house after watching BEAVIS AND BUTTHEAD. My fist thought was Why in the wide world of sports was a 5year old watching Beavis and Butthead? I was almost there. I was turning into a real MOTHER. But I found the truth a couple days later when CNN reported that the homeless MOTHER had lied. She didn't even have a cable connection, so her home was incapable of seeing anything on MTV. Her kid was a PYRO. But someone else must be to blame.
I have a niece who has four beautiful children ranging in age from 1-9. Her husband and she are both successful college educated Corporate Lawyers. And their children are quiet, well mannered and dressed neatly and clean. Yet whenever she goes out with the youngsters in tow, NOSY MOTHERS ask questions like: "Are you Catholic?" "Are you Mormons?" "Can't you figure out what causes them?" None of those things are true, and She finds it quite distressing. I suggested she get matching Tee Shirts that say: "My parents are married and not on welfare. So mind your own business." Or "Call MY UNCLE KURT! HE"LL EXPLAIN IT TO YOU."
So while I have, and continue to tell you Teach Your Children Well. Be their MOM. Or be a MOTHER. But don't try to MOTHER everyone else's children. Hillary Clinton is wrong. It does not take a village to raise a child. I could be wrong. What do you think? Do you think?
But don't blame her if you don't like where I have taken this...
Today's children have become and sorry bunch. Well it didn't just happen, like some magic spell cast upon the youth of America. Nor was it an accident or a vast conspiracy. But it started back in the generation that I came from. And it has culminated in the children of today. What do you give your children as a gift? Computers? Cell-phones? Nintendos? IPods? XBox 360? Play Station PSP? Art Supplies? Even if you go out on a limb and give a really dangerous gift like a skateboard or a bicycle, you have to include a helmet and elbow pads. And it has gotten so bad it's against the law in most states to ride a bike without a helmet. And give a kid a car ride without a five point restraint system and they post pictures of you in the Daily News and brand you a BAD MOTHER. In my day BAD MOTHER had a completely different meaning. When I was 5 my father used to let me stand on his lap and steer the car. Try that today and you'll be prosecuted for Child Endangerment. Mel Gibson was chastised for showing Children with guns in his movie "The Patriot." I have owned guns since I was 6. But today I can't give my daughter a gun for any reason until some MOTHER in The Government Approves first. There's a lot of MOTHERS out there minding your business. And they have turned your children into a mass of Namby Pamby, Skillet licking, pablum gagging, computer literate, weenies. And try to convince me that you first reaction if you saw a child untethered in the back of a car, that your first reaction isn't to be a MOTHER and call the cops to report a rogue citizen raising a free spirit.
Think back to your childhood. Did you have a car-seat with at least a 3 point restraint system? NO! Did your mom's car have Air-bags (Besides the one she married)? NO! Did she suit you up in crash gear before you rode a Bicycle? NO! Did she only give you crayons with a warning not to eat them? NO? Did anything have a warning label on it? NO! Did she love you? YES!
Let me tell you some of the Toys I got from my mom and grand-mom as a child. A BB Gun. A .22 rifle. A Junior Scientist Chemistry set. A Microscope with glass slides and dissection tools and dye stains. A 300 watt wood-burning tool. An Erector Set. An Electric Slot car and race track. A set of Lawn Darts.
I played Little League Baseball and I wore a helmet. But we kept score. There were winners and losers at every game. And we learned the agony of defeat and the thrill of victory. Your children watch Sesame Street and Barney The Dinosaur! We watched The Three Stooges and Bullwinkle! We had Barbie and G.I. Joe. Your kids have Teddy Ruxpin and Cabbage Patch Dolls. We had BB guns. Your kids have NERF guns. We had steel Horseshoes. Your kids have plastic Horseshoes.
In school I wrote essays of Haunted Houses and Headless Zombies. I got A's in English. I doodled pictures of sword fights and Airplanes shooting other Airplanes and guns with tongues of fire coming from the muzzle. No one cared. If a child draws a gun today, he gets expelled and sent for a psych eval! I had a psych eval. But not until I was grown and was being considered for a position on a Nuclear Weapons Security Team. I never heard what the results of the Evaluation were. But I sat at the Launch Control Panel for 21 years. So I must have passed.
I said earlier that Moms started being MOTHERS back in my generation. While I was eight and watching The Stooges, my mom told me the paper had a story of a boy who had hit his brother on the head with a hammer. And when the parents asked "Why?" He told them he had seen it on the The Three Stooges. My mom asked what I thought about that? I told her "That kid must be a retard!" Right now MOTHERS all over the world just clutched their chest because I used the "R" word. OH! How Insensitive! Well what else would you call a kid who thought it was OK to hit someone in the head with a hammer? RETARD pretty much fits. But in actuality the story belonged to the new genre of BS known now as URBAN LEGENDS.
Nosy MOTHERS Are still spreading these Tales of woe. A few years ago a MOTHER told how her 5 year old son burned down the house after watching BEAVIS AND BUTTHEAD. My fist thought was Why in the wide world of sports was a 5year old watching Beavis and Butthead? I was almost there. I was turning into a real MOTHER. But I found the truth a couple days later when CNN reported that the homeless MOTHER had lied. She didn't even have a cable connection, so her home was incapable of seeing anything on MTV. Her kid was a PYRO. But someone else must be to blame.
I have a niece who has four beautiful children ranging in age from 1-9. Her husband and she are both successful college educated Corporate Lawyers. And their children are quiet, well mannered and dressed neatly and clean. Yet whenever she goes out with the youngsters in tow, NOSY MOTHERS ask questions like: "Are you Catholic?" "Are you Mormons?" "Can't you figure out what causes them?" None of those things are true, and She finds it quite distressing. I suggested she get matching Tee Shirts that say: "My parents are married and not on welfare. So mind your own business." Or "Call MY UNCLE KURT! HE"LL EXPLAIN IT TO YOU."
So while I have, and continue to tell you Teach Your Children Well. Be their MOM. Or be a MOTHER. But don't try to MOTHER everyone else's children. Hillary Clinton is wrong. It does not take a village to raise a child. I could be wrong. What do you think? Do you think?
Thursday, February 11, 2010
OH CANADA!
America: The Good Neighbor
This is from a Canadian newspaper.
Widespread but only partial news coverage was given recently to a remarkable editorial broadcast from Toronto by Gordon Sinclair, a Canadian television commentator. What follows is the full text of his trenchant remarks as printed in the Congressional Record:
"This Canadian thinks it is time to speak up for the Americans as the most generous and possibly the least appreciated people on all the earth. Germany, Japan and, to a lesser extent, Britain and Italy were lifted out of the debris of war by the Americans who poured in billions of dollars and forgave other billions in debts. None of these countries is today paying even the interest on its remaining debts to the United States.
When France was in danger of collapsing in 1956, it was the Americans who propped it up, and their reward was to be insulted and swindled on the streets of Paris. I was there. I saw it. When earthquakes hit distant cities, it is the United States that hurries in to help. This spring, 59 American communities were flattened by tornadoes. Nobody helped. The Marshall Plan and the Truman Policy pumped billions of dollars into discouraged countries. Now newspapers in those countries are writing about the decadent, warmongering Americans. I'd like to see just one of those countries that is gloating over the erosion of the United States dollar build its own airplane. Does any other country in the world have a plane to equal the Boeing Jumbo Jet, the Lockheed Tri-Star, or the Douglas DC10? If so, why don't they fly them?
Why do all the International lines except Russia fly American Planes? Why does no other land on earth even consider putting a man or woman on the moon? You talk about Japanese technocracy, and you get radios. You talk about German technocracy, and you get automobiles. You talk about American technocracy, and you find men on the moon not once, but several times -- and safely home again. You talk about scandals, and the Americans put theirs right in the store window for everybody to look at. Even their draft-dodgers are not pursued and hounded. They are here on our streets, and most of them, unless they are breaking Canadian laws, are getting American dollars from ma and pa at home to spend here.
When the railways of France, Germany and India were breaking down through age, it was the Americans who rebuilt them. When the Pennsylvania Railroad and the New York Central went broke, nobody loaned them an old caboose. Both are still broke. I can name you 5000 times when the Americans raced to the help of other people in trouble. Can you name me even one time when someone else raced to the Americans in trouble? I don't think there was outside help even during the San Francisco earthquake.
Our neighbors have faced it alone, and I'm one Canadian who is damned tired of hearing them get kicked around. They will come out of this thing with their flag high. And when they do, they are entitled to thumb their nose at the lands that are gloating over their present troubles. I hope Canada is not one of those,"Stand proud, America!
This is from a Canadian newspaper.
Widespread but only partial news coverage was given recently to a remarkable editorial broadcast from Toronto by Gordon Sinclair, a Canadian television commentator. What follows is the full text of his trenchant remarks as printed in the Congressional Record:
"This Canadian thinks it is time to speak up for the Americans as the most generous and possibly the least appreciated people on all the earth. Germany, Japan and, to a lesser extent, Britain and Italy were lifted out of the debris of war by the Americans who poured in billions of dollars and forgave other billions in debts. None of these countries is today paying even the interest on its remaining debts to the United States.
When France was in danger of collapsing in 1956, it was the Americans who propped it up, and their reward was to be insulted and swindled on the streets of Paris. I was there. I saw it. When earthquakes hit distant cities, it is the United States that hurries in to help. This spring, 59 American communities were flattened by tornadoes. Nobody helped. The Marshall Plan and the Truman Policy pumped billions of dollars into discouraged countries. Now newspapers in those countries are writing about the decadent, warmongering Americans. I'd like to see just one of those countries that is gloating over the erosion of the United States dollar build its own airplane. Does any other country in the world have a plane to equal the Boeing Jumbo Jet, the Lockheed Tri-Star, or the Douglas DC10? If so, why don't they fly them?
Why do all the International lines except Russia fly American Planes? Why does no other land on earth even consider putting a man or woman on the moon? You talk about Japanese technocracy, and you get radios. You talk about German technocracy, and you get automobiles. You talk about American technocracy, and you find men on the moon not once, but several times -- and safely home again. You talk about scandals, and the Americans put theirs right in the store window for everybody to look at. Even their draft-dodgers are not pursued and hounded. They are here on our streets, and most of them, unless they are breaking Canadian laws, are getting American dollars from ma and pa at home to spend here.
When the railways of France, Germany and India were breaking down through age, it was the Americans who rebuilt them. When the Pennsylvania Railroad and the New York Central went broke, nobody loaned them an old caboose. Both are still broke. I can name you 5000 times when the Americans raced to the help of other people in trouble. Can you name me even one time when someone else raced to the Americans in trouble? I don't think there was outside help even during the San Francisco earthquake.
Our neighbors have faced it alone, and I'm one Canadian who is damned tired of hearing them get kicked around. They will come out of this thing with their flag high. And when they do, they are entitled to thumb their nose at the lands that are gloating over their present troubles. I hope Canada is not one of those,"Stand proud, America!
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
PATRIOTS ROCK
There is a huge rock near a gravel pit on Hwy.25 in rural Iowa ..
For generations, kids have painted slogans, names, and obscenities on this rock, changing its character many times. A few months back, the rock received its latest paint job, and since then it has been left completely undisturbed.
This last photo is of my favorite Graffiti Artist RAY "BUBBA" SORENSEN...
For generations, kids have painted slogans, names, and obscenities on this rock, changing its character many times. A few months back, the rock received its latest paint job, and since then it has been left completely undisturbed.
Monday, February 8, 2010
The STING
I have to print a retraction. My last post announcing a NEW VIRUS was the result of a bet I had with a fellow Security Specialist. He bet me that people (Users) never read Security warnings. In spite of the fact that I put the punch line in bold red letters, everyone assumed I had infected my own computer with an email virus.
I was so sure he was wrong, that I accepted the bet and wagered that someone would notice it. The deal was if Kevin was right; I would post no more security alerts.
Kevin was right. No one noticed. And some even sent condolences.
I APOLOGIZE TO EVERYONE FOR BORING YOU WITH SECURITY INFO. I ALSO APPOLOGIZE TO THE GREAT FOLKS AT THE UNIVERSITY OF ALABAMA FOR ANY INCONVENIENCE OR UNDUE ALARM THE LAST POST MAY HAVE CAUSED. I NEVER MEANT TO SULLY YOUR REPUTATION.
From here on out I will confine my posts to topics of popular interest.
Thank you for putting up with it.
I was so sure he was wrong, that I accepted the bet and wagered that someone would notice it. The deal was if Kevin was right; I would post no more security alerts.
Kevin was right. No one noticed. And some even sent condolences.
I APOLOGIZE TO EVERYONE FOR BORING YOU WITH SECURITY INFO. I ALSO APPOLOGIZE TO THE GREAT FOLKS AT THE UNIVERSITY OF ALABAMA FOR ANY INCONVENIENCE OR UNDUE ALARM THE LAST POST MAY HAVE CAUSED. I NEVER MEANT TO SULLY YOUR REPUTATION.
From here on out I will confine my posts to topics of popular interest.
Thank you for putting up with it.
A new virus
I may be off line for awhile. I got a new strain of an email virus. It was from someone I had never heard of. But curiosity got the better of me and I opened and read it anyway. Now I have a lot of work to do. But I wanted to warn all of you before I go off-line.
The message came from some guy in Italy! And was relayed through several open SMTP Relay systems. How he got my Email address is still a mystery. And I may never discover the truth.
This is a very clever, yet very sinister and devastating virus. I hope I can get this posted before my system is destroyed. Let me give you the particulars!
The subject line reads: UofA Virus!
The message looks like this:
I have a lot of work to do now. I'll be back after I format my hard drive and reload my O/S and send that angry message. And if you get an email from me, with UofA Virus! in the subject line. DON'T OPEN IT!
=)
The message came from some guy in Italy! And was relayed through several open SMTP Relay systems. How he got my Email address is still a mystery. And I may never discover the truth.
This is a very clever, yet very sinister and devastating virus. I hope I can get this posted before my system is destroyed. Let me give you the particulars!
The subject line reads: UofA Virus!
The message looks like this:
___________________________________________
===========================================
To: Whom It May Concern.
From: Computer Science Lab, University Of Alabama
Subj: University Of Alabama Virus
Dear Sir or Maam,
Due to the current economic crises in our nation. And in Alabama in particular. We, at the UofA, have suffered severe budgetary cutbacks and have lost funding for software purchases needed to continue teaching our students in the Computer Science program, the skills needed to become effective software programmers in the ever increasing world of instant information. We are proud of our institution. And we have tried everything imaginable to keep our funding. But our complaints have fallen on deaf ears. So we have resorted to this last ditch effort to gain attention to our plight.
We wanted to write an email borne virus and unleash it on the world. Within a matter of a few weeks the entire world would be infected and know of our situation. Then the Board of Regents would be forced to restore our funding. Our virus will reach your inbox. And once you open it. The code will become active, and it will do the following:
1. Search the contents of your system to be sure you haven't already been infected.
2. Then the UofA virus will load an SMTP Email server on you PC. And forward a copy of itself to everyone in your Address Book. After that, the UofA Virus will
3. format your primary hard drive, essentially destroying all contents and then reboot to a black screen that says ""
At that point you would have to reload your operating system and all of your programs. But, once you are done with that, you would be angry enough to send an email to our school: Department Of Computer Sciences and Technology. And once the Regents get enough scathing emails they would have no choice but to cave to the pressure and restore our funding.
That is why you have received this message. But since we have no software to write such a virus we are depending on you and your honesty to support our efforts. You are honor bound to follow these steps;
1. Send a copy of this email to everyone listed in your Address Book.
2. Format your Hard Drive.
3. Reload Operating System and all Programs.
4. Send a really scathing email to the Dean of The UofA School of Technology. And be very angry when you do it.
Respectfully,
Name withheld to prevent prosecution.
===========================================
___________________________________________
I have a lot of work to do now. I'll be back after I format my hard drive and reload my O/S and send that angry message. And if you get an email from me, with UofA Virus! in the subject line. DON'T OPEN IT!
=)
Saturday, February 6, 2010
MOVIE CALL...
What is your favorite movie? It depends on your definition of Favorite! Is it something that moves your emotions? LOVE STORY. OF MICE AND MEN. THE GREEN MILE. A TIME TO KILL. MISSISSIPPI BURNING. APOCALYPSE NOW! GRAN TORINO.
Is it a Thriller, Chiller? HOUSE. THE SHINNING. THE HOWLING. FRANKENSTEIN. DRACULA. NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD. TWILIGHT ZONE. LET THE RIGHT ONE IN. ERASERHEAD.
A Comedy? ROXANNE. UNCLE BUCK. FATHER OF THE BRIDE. THE OUT-OF-TOWNERS. LIAR LIAR. NAKED GUN. THE TRUMAN SHOW. THE LAST REMAKE OF BEAU GESTE.
A Gore fest? PSYCHO. BLOODY BUTCHERS. HALLOWEEN. FRIDAY THE THIRTEENTH. NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET. NO COUNTY FOR OLD MEN.
Sci-fi? FORBIDDEN PLANET. 2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY. STARSHIP TROOPERS. STAR WARS. STAR TREK. ROBOCOP. KILLER CLOWNS FROM OUTER SPACE.
Westerns? A FISTFUL OF DOLLARS. ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE WEST. COWBOYS. THE SHOOTIST. UNFORGIVEN. HIGH NOON. A MAN CALLED HORSE. HANG 'EM HIGH.
War Flick? PATTON. THE GUNS OF NAVARONE. WHERE EAGLES DARE. THE DIRTY DOZEN. INGLORIOUS BASTARDS. THE GREAT ESCAPE. THE BRIDGE OVER THE RIVER KWAI. THE HIGHEST HONOR. GALLIPOLI. MERRY CHRISTMAS MR. LAWRENCE.
Swords and Sorcery? CONAN. THE BEAST MASTER. EXCALIBUR. QUEST FOR FIRE. 10,000 B.C.
Is it the one movie you shared with a special friend? A movie you have seen over and over and over and over... Well you get the idea.
Is this too specific? Then allow me to ask: What is your favorite movie genre?
You are not limited to the selections I mentioned above.I promise not to psycho-analyze your choice. I just want to know you better.
Is it a Thriller, Chiller? HOUSE. THE SHINNING. THE HOWLING. FRANKENSTEIN. DRACULA. NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD. TWILIGHT ZONE. LET THE RIGHT ONE IN. ERASERHEAD.
A Comedy? ROXANNE. UNCLE BUCK. FATHER OF THE BRIDE. THE OUT-OF-TOWNERS. LIAR LIAR. NAKED GUN. THE TRUMAN SHOW. THE LAST REMAKE OF BEAU GESTE.
A Gore fest? PSYCHO. BLOODY BUTCHERS. HALLOWEEN. FRIDAY THE THIRTEENTH. NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET. NO COUNTY FOR OLD MEN.
Sci-fi? FORBIDDEN PLANET. 2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY. STARSHIP TROOPERS. STAR WARS. STAR TREK. ROBOCOP. KILLER CLOWNS FROM OUTER SPACE.
Westerns? A FISTFUL OF DOLLARS. ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE WEST. COWBOYS. THE SHOOTIST. UNFORGIVEN. HIGH NOON. A MAN CALLED HORSE. HANG 'EM HIGH.
War Flick? PATTON. THE GUNS OF NAVARONE. WHERE EAGLES DARE. THE DIRTY DOZEN. INGLORIOUS BASTARDS. THE GREAT ESCAPE. THE BRIDGE OVER THE RIVER KWAI. THE HIGHEST HONOR. GALLIPOLI. MERRY CHRISTMAS MR. LAWRENCE.
Swords and Sorcery? CONAN. THE BEAST MASTER. EXCALIBUR. QUEST FOR FIRE. 10,000 B.C.
Is it the one movie you shared with a special friend? A movie you have seen over and over and over and over... Well you get the idea.
Is this too specific? Then allow me to ask: What is your favorite movie genre?
You are not limited to the selections I mentioned above.I promise not to psycho-analyze your choice. I just want to know you better.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Going "OLD SCHOOL"
Thirty years ago people met each other face to face. Every encounter was based on chance. Maybe you set out to meet someone. Or finding a friend may have been the furthest thing from your mind. It could have happened anywhere. A church, school, the library, a grocery store, a gym, the 7/11, a bar or coffee shop, at work, a bowling alley, walking down the street, at a red-light or any combination of these would make a great first meeting place. Internet dating sites have tried to become the new "MEETING PLACE." But all they have really done is to take the leg-work out of running into someone. But again somethings never change. How well do you really know someone? If you meet someone today who interests you.Their background is only a couple of mouse clicks away. Regardless of how you met them! Are they married? Divorced? A convict? Do you have Mr. Rogers or Jeffery Dahmer standing in your doorway?
Well, back in the day your dilemma was just as serious. But the age of instant information was still relegated to the realms of future technology, and God. There was an interesting person in my life. Yet I really knew nothing about her. She worked at the MWR (Morale, Welfare and Recreation) Office on base. That's where I met her, when I was buying tickets to a movie. She was drop-dead gorgeous. Tall, 5'10", slim, long blond hair, with the most amazing chocolate brown eyes I had ever seen. And her voice was smother than turtle fur. Soft and gentle like a whispered secret. And when she smiled her entire face was involved. And the whole room brightened. It felt good in my heart just to look at her. With the addition of that satin smooth voice and her bedazzling smile, I was tangled in her. After I paid for my tickets and left the MWR, She was all I could think of. This episode in my life could have been the basis for almost any Romantic Comedy. I was completely smitten. But she barely noticed me. I was just one of a thousand sailors at the MWR Ticket window that day. And she must hear some of the best pick-up lines ever uttered. I heard three just waiting my turn in line that day. This feeling was new to me. These feelings of ??? Love? Lust? Infatuation? I didn't have a name for this feeling. I had never felt exactly this way before. The closest thing like this was the adrenalin buzz I got just before a fight. Heart rate accelerated. Breathing shallower. Stomach full of wasps. Vision focused to the extreme. Total concentration on the person in front of me. This usually ended with someone bleeding on the floor. And on more than one occasion it was me. If any man tells you "I never lost a fight." Feel free to blow the whistle and throw a penalty flag.
DDRRREEETTT! "Offensive foul! Unnecessary BS. 15 yards and a loss of down. One more of those and you're out of the game."
Well as it turned out. I found several movies I needed tickets for that required me to return to MWR. But now I only bought them one show at a time. So that way I had to be there for almost everyday at lunch time. I have always been a fan of going to see movies. And my tastes in cinema were very eclectic to say the least. And there was always something playing somewhere in town that I wanted to see. I won't bore you with the details of my endeavors to meet and marry this tenderhearted beauty. So I skip ahead a few months. And I'm standing in the living room of her apartment. The room is modestly furnished. A small sofa and matching chair at one wall. With a small dark wood coffee table in front of the sofa. A set of coasters sat idle on one corer of the table. The table had no scratches or foot marks on it. A small portable TV (24 in) atop a small hardwood table directly across from the couch. Three feet to the right of the TV was a bookcase. It was homemade. Decorative cinderblocks, with white pine 1x14" planks stacked to form 5 shelves. The carpet was unworn and unstained. The room was immaculate. No clutter. No dust. Like a set of Dress Whites, standing by for Admiral's Inspection. Even the books were dressed to the front edge of the shelves. This room spoke volumes about the person who lived here. Neat. Organized. Meticulous attention to fine detail. Not big on entertaining crowds. But warm and friendly. Not cold and sterile.
Was I standing in the room of Laura Petrie or Lizzy Borden? The Information Super-Highway had not been invented by Al Gore yet. Tartar sauce, IBM hadn't even invented the PC yet. So my best bet was to take a look at the bookcase. So I asked "May I look at your books?" You can tell a lot about a person by the books they own. But not if you are not well read yourself. Otherwise you may as well be standing in front of the magazine rack at the local Eckerd's Drug Store. I have been an insatiable reader since age 5. So when she said "Sure." I began my inquisition.
The were a couple versions of "The Holy Bible" No problem. I wasn't a believer. But I was familiar with the story. There were a dozen or so Agatha Christie Murder Mysteries. Some of the classics and a couple Dean Koontz novels. There were some by a relatively new author named Stephen King. And on the bottom shelf was a gathering of college level text books. I will never forget the title of the one on the far right of the shelf. It stunned me. The title itself was a paradox. "Elementary Principles Of Multi-Variable Calculus." I didn't know there was anything elementary about the principles of Calculus.
The books spoke of an educated, intelligent, inspired and analytical person. But since the books were not in alphabetical order, she was organized. But not compulsive. She had nothing from the SCI-Fi genre. No Heinlein. No Asimov. No HG Wells. No Arther C. Clark. She had nothing by my all time favorite fantasy author JRR Tolkien. But she had some fantasy novels I had never read. By an author I had heard of and who was a friend and contemporary of Tolkien, named CS Lewis. So it looked like she was a keeper. And I just proof read this to her.
Well, back in the day your dilemma was just as serious. But the age of instant information was still relegated to the realms of future technology, and God. There was an interesting person in my life. Yet I really knew nothing about her. She worked at the MWR (Morale, Welfare and Recreation) Office on base. That's where I met her, when I was buying tickets to a movie. She was drop-dead gorgeous. Tall, 5'10", slim, long blond hair, with the most amazing chocolate brown eyes I had ever seen. And her voice was smother than turtle fur. Soft and gentle like a whispered secret. And when she smiled her entire face was involved. And the whole room brightened. It felt good in my heart just to look at her. With the addition of that satin smooth voice and her bedazzling smile, I was tangled in her. After I paid for my tickets and left the MWR, She was all I could think of. This episode in my life could have been the basis for almost any Romantic Comedy. I was completely smitten. But she barely noticed me. I was just one of a thousand sailors at the MWR Ticket window that day. And she must hear some of the best pick-up lines ever uttered. I heard three just waiting my turn in line that day. This feeling was new to me. These feelings of ??? Love? Lust? Infatuation? I didn't have a name for this feeling. I had never felt exactly this way before. The closest thing like this was the adrenalin buzz I got just before a fight. Heart rate accelerated. Breathing shallower. Stomach full of wasps. Vision focused to the extreme. Total concentration on the person in front of me. This usually ended with someone bleeding on the floor. And on more than one occasion it was me. If any man tells you "I never lost a fight." Feel free to blow the whistle and throw a penalty flag.
DDRRREEETTT! "Offensive foul! Unnecessary BS. 15 yards and a loss of down. One more of those and you're out of the game."
Well as it turned out. I found several movies I needed tickets for that required me to return to MWR. But now I only bought them one show at a time. So that way I had to be there for almost everyday at lunch time. I have always been a fan of going to see movies. And my tastes in cinema were very eclectic to say the least. And there was always something playing somewhere in town that I wanted to see. I won't bore you with the details of my endeavors to meet and marry this tenderhearted beauty. So I skip ahead a few months. And I'm standing in the living room of her apartment. The room is modestly furnished. A small sofa and matching chair at one wall. With a small dark wood coffee table in front of the sofa. A set of coasters sat idle on one corer of the table. The table had no scratches or foot marks on it. A small portable TV (24 in) atop a small hardwood table directly across from the couch. Three feet to the right of the TV was a bookcase. It was homemade. Decorative cinderblocks, with white pine 1x14" planks stacked to form 5 shelves. The carpet was unworn and unstained. The room was immaculate. No clutter. No dust. Like a set of Dress Whites, standing by for Admiral's Inspection. Even the books were dressed to the front edge of the shelves. This room spoke volumes about the person who lived here. Neat. Organized. Meticulous attention to fine detail. Not big on entertaining crowds. But warm and friendly. Not cold and sterile.
Was I standing in the room of Laura Petrie or Lizzy Borden? The Information Super-Highway had not been invented by Al Gore yet. Tartar sauce, IBM hadn't even invented the PC yet. So my best bet was to take a look at the bookcase. So I asked "May I look at your books?" You can tell a lot about a person by the books they own. But not if you are not well read yourself. Otherwise you may as well be standing in front of the magazine rack at the local Eckerd's Drug Store. I have been an insatiable reader since age 5. So when she said "Sure." I began my inquisition.
The were a couple versions of "The Holy Bible" No problem. I wasn't a believer. But I was familiar with the story. There were a dozen or so Agatha Christie Murder Mysteries. Some of the classics and a couple Dean Koontz novels. There were some by a relatively new author named Stephen King. And on the bottom shelf was a gathering of college level text books. I will never forget the title of the one on the far right of the shelf. It stunned me. The title itself was a paradox. "Elementary Principles Of Multi-Variable Calculus." I didn't know there was anything elementary about the principles of Calculus.
The books spoke of an educated, intelligent, inspired and analytical person. But since the books were not in alphabetical order, she was organized. But not compulsive. She had nothing from the SCI-Fi genre. No Heinlein. No Asimov. No HG Wells. No Arther C. Clark. She had nothing by my all time favorite fantasy author JRR Tolkien. But she had some fantasy novels I had never read. By an author I had heard of and who was a friend and contemporary of Tolkien, named CS Lewis. So it looked like she was a keeper. And I just proof read this to her.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Awards Day...
Today is AWARDS DAY!
The following persons are being awarded the KrippledWarrior's HEART OF GOLD.
Blasé of: My Game. It's your move.
UBERMOUTH of: UBERMOUTH RETURNS
Chatty Kelly of: Always learning. Sometimes teaching.
Ms. Anthropy of: MS. ANTHROPY
Edie of: Rich Gifts
My ADHD Me of: Monkeys are funny
For actions set out in the following citation:
For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity in action at the risk of Ridicule and being accused of Association with a bad element, did on or about 24-31 January 2010, render aid and assistance to a wounded sentinel in a time of severe trauma and prolonged attack by enemy forces. The Sentinel, who was here-to-fore unknown by these brave people, was under continuous harassing fire and had sustained heavy casualties. Upon hearing the firefight in progress, the group of bloggers dropped all personal business, and sent much needed words of encouragement, that led to a regrouping and strengthening of fortifications, which raised the spirits and morale of those afflicted. Their acts were in keeping with the highest traditions of the Blog-O-Sphere and reflect great credit upon themselves and the Blog-O-Sphere in general. Additionally all aforementioned persons are meritoriously advanced to the rank of Chief Petty Officer, in the KW Navy.
Respectfully,
KrippledWarrior
Comander CivPacFlt KW Navy
LADIES AND GENTLEMAN, Here is your Heart of Gold:
The following persons are being awarded the KrippledWarrior's HEART OF GOLD.
Blasé of: My Game. It's your move.
UBERMOUTH of: UBERMOUTH RETURNS
Chatty Kelly of: Always learning. Sometimes teaching.
Ms. Anthropy of: MS. ANTHROPY
Edie of: Rich Gifts
My ADHD Me of: Monkeys are funny
For actions set out in the following citation:
For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity in action at the risk of Ridicule and being accused of Association with a bad element, did on or about 24-31 January 2010, render aid and assistance to a wounded sentinel in a time of severe trauma and prolonged attack by enemy forces. The Sentinel, who was here-to-fore unknown by these brave people, was under continuous harassing fire and had sustained heavy casualties. Upon hearing the firefight in progress, the group of bloggers dropped all personal business, and sent much needed words of encouragement, that led to a regrouping and strengthening of fortifications, which raised the spirits and morale of those afflicted. Their acts were in keeping with the highest traditions of the Blog-O-Sphere and reflect great credit upon themselves and the Blog-O-Sphere in general. Additionally all aforementioned persons are meritoriously advanced to the rank of Chief Petty Officer, in the KW Navy.
Respectfully,
KrippledWarrior
Comander CivPacFlt KW Navy
LADIES AND GENTLEMAN, Here is your Heart of Gold:
And here is your rank insignia:
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