Thoughts on South Africa, Liberalism, and Hand Outs...

We have a monthly book club in our home. Our group is fairly diverse, and we try to read significant literature (ergo, we avoid the Oprah Winfrey Book List!). We recently read and discussed John Carlin's book, "Playing the Enemy", which describes the 10 years between Nelson Mandela's release from prison and his retirement from the Presidency of South Africa.

The world was so caught up in the end of a wrong - but effective - system of government called 'apartheid' that they completely ignored what any student of post-colonial Africa saw coming as soon as the world gave credence to the ANC. I remember even as a young man, I feared for the white Africans, the boer or Afrikaner, because of the retribution that I knew would come when the African socialists came to power.

Did Nelson Mandela play a key part in ending apartheid? Certainly. Was he also a socialist terrorist responsible for thousands on thousands of black and white African deaths? Absolutely.

Support for the ANC and Mandela then and now comes down to the old addage, "If the ends justify the means, then the means must be just." This is simply not so. Ends cannot and will never justify means of any type. Means must be just in themselves.

The outcome of the South African Socialist experience remains to be seen, but to date the fruit of the ANC is bitter indeed. It cannot be argued by any reasonable person that South Africa is, as a nation or as a people, better off today than they were in 1986. Their economy is in shambles. Their society has disintegrated. The crime rate - especially the violent crime rate - has soared. And the immense volume of scenes of cruelty and wholesale barbarism make any snapshot from the apartheid era look tame.

I don't support apartheid in any way, but I believe that revolution without a well-considered direction and outcome will always lead to tyranny more brutal than the one it replaces.

This book was a reminder that we have friends in Zimbabwe from whom we have not heard in years. They are - or were - white farmers. When they were first married we got photos of their idyllic citrus groves and cropland. As time went on, pictures were fewer and signs of stress showed in their messages. Now, I believe they are dead.

I guess that reading put me to thinking about Kipling's oft-maligned poem, "The White Man's Burden". It's a sad reflection on the price a colonial power pays in blood and treasure in trying to better the world, and the thanks it receives in the end.

The White Man’s Burden
by Rudyard Kipling

Take up the White Man's burden--
Send forth the best ye breed--
Go bind your sons to exile
To serve your captives' need;
To wait in heavy harness,
On fluttered folk and wild--
Your new-caught, sullen peoples,
Half-devil and half-child.

Take up the White Man's burden--
In patience to abide,
To veil the threat of terror
And check the show of pride;
By open speech and simple,
An hundred times made plain
To seek another's profit,
And work another's gain.

Take up the White Man's burden--
The savage wars of peace--
Fill full the mouth of Famine
And bid the sickness cease;
And when your goal is nearest
The end for others sought,
Watch sloth and heathen Folly
Bring all your hopes to nought.

Take up the White Man's burden--
No tawdry rule of kings,
But toil of serf and sweeper--
The tale of common things.
The ports ye shall not enter,
The roads ye shall not tread,
Go mark them with your living,
And mark them with your dead.

Take up the White Man's burden--
And reap his old reward:
The blame of those ye better,
The hate of those ye guard--
The cry of hosts ye humour
(Ah, slowly!) toward the light:--
"Why brought he us from bondage,
Our loved Egyptian night?"

Take up the White Man's burden--
Ye dare not stoop to less--
Nor call too loud on Freedom
To cloke your weariness;
By all ye cry or whisper,
By all ye leave or do,
The silent, sullen peoples
Shall weigh your gods and you.

Take up the White Man's burden--
Have done with childish days--
The lightly proferred laurel,
The easy, ungrudged praise.
Comes now, to search your manhood
Through all the thankless years
Cold, edged with dear-bought wisdom,
The judgment of your peers!

For those interested in the state of South Africa today, I invite you not to miss this website in your research. It - like South Africa - is disturbing.

www.genocidewatch.org/southafrica.html

Now for some thoughts on this poem.

Many – especially liberals – find this poem jarring in its patriarchal approach to indigenous peoples living in lands colonized by European powers.

It certainly reads like an ode to soft tyranny. Or to benevolent dictatorship.

But how does it read when we say, “Take up the Socialist’s burden--”?

Or, “Take up the Progressive’s burden--”?

Or, “Take up the Enlightened and Understanding Person’s burden—“?

Now we are not talking of saving people of a different skin color. We are talking of “saving” people of a different ideology – people whose ideas of individualism or personal liberty are remnants of a dark and distant time from which, although he does not now know it, the Conservative longs to be liberated.

I think that the guilty white liberals who hate this poem are simply not reading it in the proper light. Indeed, this poem should be the anthem to all those would-be masterminds who are so much smarter than the average person.

And to the Conservative it should be a sobering warning that those not willing to invest in their own liberty and well being will never appreciate something handed to them on a plate. They will take it from you.

And they will hate you for it.

They may not understand why they hate you, but they hate you for taking away their humanity; for taking away their dignity; for making them dependent; for your condescending benevolence; for your plunder of others in their behalf.

An Appeal To The State of Arizona...

To State Officials in Arizona:

I implore you to immediately cease the racist practices and policies that infringe disproportionately upon the basic rights of Americans of historical minority heritage who live within the borders of the State of Arizona. Reverse this racist and inflammatory legislation immediately.

By your racist and xenophobic laws you deprive minorities of all backgrounds - and indeed of all ages - of the Right to the Pursuit of Happiness. You seek to marginalize and stigmatize the underprivileged while, at the same time, ensuring that white people are free to enjoy the Pursuit by virtue of their privileged status.

Your bigoted law disenfranchises MILLIONS of your citizens and especially has a negative impact on immigrants, women and children. It is a well-established FACT that these most valuable contributors to our society CANNOT, due to expense, travel restrictions, or onerous documentation requirements, obtain valid state issued identification. Further, it is well-established that white people receive discounted rates, travel benefits and assistance, reduced waiting times, and are not required to show the same set of identifying documents as minorities when they visit the Motor Vehicle Department or the Social Security office.

I issue a call most serious and solemn to repeal the state law requiring state issued identification in order to purchase alcoholic beverages. This law prevents thousands upon thousands of minorities in Arizona from purchasing these products, and thus enjoying the recreational opportunities so freely available to whites in their communities.

Among our founding documents, the Right to the Pursuit of Happiness is mentioned BEFORE the right to bear arms, the right of privacy, and even the right to VOTE! If, as so many reasonable voices in politics today point out, requiring positive, state issued identification at polling places is a violation of our country's constitution, then Arizona's alcohol ID laws must necessarily be the same.

Strike them down! Repent of your persecution of the immigrant! Cease to repress children in their formative years! At last, free the slave! ALL must be equal in their opportunity to pursue the happiness envisioned by our founding fathers - the happiness unique to America.

A Russian Wink and a Nod...

This is a conversation that REALLY took place between President Obama and President Medvedev, of Russia recently.

Obama: "On all of these issues, but particularly on missile defense, this, this can be solved, but it's important for him [referring to Vladimir Putin] to give me space."

Medvedev: "Yeah, I understand. I understand your message about space. Space for you."

Obama: "This is my last election. After my election I have more flexibility."

Medvedev: "I understand. I will transmit this information to Vladimir. I support you."

Why do you suppose that President Obama, leader of the free world, is begging the prime minister of Russia, a second-rate post-communist wasteland, for "space" on the issue of missile defense - and "all these issues", too?

Is President Obama really planning to cede so much of our national security and sovereignty to the former Soviet Union that even his loyal base would revolt?

His cavalier response to questions about his statements has included his assertion that he's not "hiding the ball". And he's right. Mr. Obama has been very transparent about the types of "change" he wants to bring to America. His lap dogs in the media have simply chosen to mislead the voting public by failing to inform them of Mr. Obama's prior statements.

Single-payer national healthcare, back-breaking energy prices, a diminished role on the world stage, withdrawal from Middle Eastern conflicts regardless of the outcome, allowing the terrorist state of Iran access to atomic materials, weakening the US military, and abandoning allies are all things the President wanted to achieve before his election. They are things he has spoken freely of and things he continues to pursue by fiat and by legislation.

If this is "progress" then we must fight against progressivism in every aspect and every political party of our national, state and local government. We must find candidates for every office who will push back the tide of government solutions and liberate citizens everywhere to make for themselves what they would enjoy in this life.

President Obama Stunned At North Korean Conditions...

President Obama has recently demonstrated both his naivete and his inability to recognize his own kind and the fruits of their common labors.

During a recent tour of South Korea, the president got a firsthand look into North Korea, ruled by Communists since the early 1950s. He was visibly shaken by what he saw. Even hours after the event, he continued musing.

"It's like you are looking across 50 years into a country that has missed 40 or 50 years of progress."

And, "If a country can't feed its people effectively, if it can't make anything of use to anybody, if it has no exports other than weapons, and even those aren't ones that in any way would be considered state-of-the-art; if it can't deliver on any indicators of well-being for its people, then you think you'd want to try something different. There are certain things that just don't work; and what they are doing doesn't work."

Mr. President, with all respect, North Korea is in the mess it is in because it has a government and a leadership that is ideological in the extreme. They, like you, are a "one trick pony". They do not try another approach because their ideology will not allow for another approach. You are the same in that you know only one thing: government control via taxation, regulation and redistribution.

Mr. President, with all respect, what you and other statists have been doing to the American Experiment for the past 80 years is not working. Someone once said, "You think you'd want to try something different." But the answer is the same. You will not try freeing markets and liberating your citizens from onerous taxation because you know nothing different. In your ideology there is no place for different.

Until you open your mind to the possibilities and reeducate yourself on the facts of America's exceptional foundation, you will continue to lead us down a road of economic destruction and despair. Indeed, 50 years from now, Canadians and Mexicans may well peer across the border into our country and wonder how we could have stopped so suddenly in our progress and regressed toward the Stone Age, like North Korea.

The principles of the Founding are as valid today as they were 250 years ago. Nature has endowed man with unalienable rights and NO GOVERNMENT founded by man has the legitimate authority to restrict those rights. Further, man was created to improve on his surroundings. Free markets and representative government, imperfect as they may be, are still the BEST way to allow the greatest number of people to achieve the highest level of well-being.

A Thought From Patrick Henry...

On 23 March 1775, Patrick Henry stood before the Virginia Convention in Richmond and spoke.

Among the many things he said, he is most remembered for the profoundly thrilling line, "I know not what course others may take, but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!"

In that speech he also said the following.

"It is natural for man to indulge in the illusions of hope. We are apt to shut our eyes against a painful truth and listen to the song of that siren till she transforms us into beasts. Is this the part of wise men, engaged in a great and arduous struggle for liberty? Are we disposed to be the number of those who, having eyes, see not, and having ears, hear not, the things which so nearly concern their temporal salvation? For my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole truth; to know the worst, and to provide for it. ...

"We are not weak if we make a proper use of those means which the God of Nature has placed in our power. ...The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone; it is to the vigilant, the active, the brave. ...

"If we wish to be free; if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable privileges for which we have been so long contending; if we mean not basely to abandon the noble struggle in which we have been so long engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon until the glorious object of our contest shall be obtained - we must fight!"

The siren song of illusory "hope" is sung by weak-minded dreamers and would-be tyrants in our day. They speak of "social equality" and "economic justice". They tempt our ears with "peace" and "unity". The price they ask to lead us all to this Utopia is our own, God-given liberty. Listening too long to that siren song will, as Patrick Henry says, turn us into beasts. Mere animals not free to choose their actions, but who are fit only to be acted upon by "masterminds" and social architects.

If we are to maintain the liberty handed down to us through hundreds of years and thousands of lives, we must fight!

How do we fight today? We do not fight with swords and guns. We do not fight with ships and cannon.

We fight by educating ourselves about the foundation of this nation. We fight by making the values and virtues that animated our forefathers our own. We fight be teaching our children that THIS is the greatest nation on earth; and the greatest nation in the history of the WORLD.

We fight by taking a stand for liberty and against tyranny wherever we are and with whomever we find ourselves. We fight by letting go of petty fears and embracing the spirit of bravery that led 50 men to pledge their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor to the cause of LIBERTY.

American Media May Be Asleep, But...

American media may be asleep, and content to report the White House talking points without much thought; but in Denmark, at lease one reporter has been listening.

And what he hears makes him skeptical about the sincerity of President Obama.

Danish TV Host Mocks Obama for His Rhetoric

Freedom to Fail - Essential for Success...

I saw this at UnleashingFreedom.com.  I thought the author had a number of good points.

Freedom, so called, with no option is no freedom at all.  If we are allowed only to succeed - as long as we don't succeed too much - then where is our freedom?  The tyranny of forced success is as evil as scripted failure.

The liberty to inform oneself of the risks inherent in a venture, and then to choose to embark on it despite them, is a basic, foundational, Natural right.  It belongs to all mankind; it cannot be justly infringed upon by any power on earth or in Heaven.

By seeking to enforce equal results philosophers and states alike undertake an act that is expressly forbidden by the laws of Nature.  The violation of any of Nature's laws brings consequences as immutable, as sure and as final as those of Gravity.  Can one really wonder at the implosion of the European Socialist countries?  Soft though it was, the glove of the well-meaning tyrant's hand, in the end it will not - it cannot - support its unwitting victims.

A Valentine's "Tape" for Tina...

Tina,

Thank you for giving me our five little Valentines.  They're wonderful and I am so very grateful that you are their mother.  And my wife.  You make me complete.

These two years have been hard for me.  I can't even fathom how hard they've been for you, my love.  But my heart is full of gratitude and amazement at your love for me and for our children.  You've been patient, strong, and so steadfast.  I don't believe there are many women in the world who could come close to being your equal.

Your support and your faith in me has helped me through the deepest Hells of my life.  These last 2 years have been times that would surely have destroyed my faith in myself and in God if it weren't for you.  You're wonderful.

You're the "total package", Tina.  I got the best on earth when I got you.  I love you with all my heart and I'm so glad that "forever" really means forever with us.

Happy Valentine's Day.

Always,
John

Memories (5)...

When I was a boy, just after I turned 10 years old, we moved from Colorado to California.  Now, I was born in California and we'd moved away when I was just 5 years old.  I was excited to move back "home".

We moved to a house that was in the middle of an almond orchard.  The almond orchard was surrounded by grape vineyards and the grape vineyards were interspersed with tomato and corn fields, as well as apricot and pistachio orchards.

Grandpa noticed that there was a small section of almond orchard near our house that was not being worked.  He found out who the owner was and called him.  The man lived in Florida.  Grandpa wanted to know if the man would let us harvest the almonds that grew wild on the property, and the man said he would.

So Grandpa bought a heavy rubber hammer that looked like a cross between an axe and a club.  He also bought an almond scoop that looked like a heavy wire basket that had been turned into a shovel.  We got some long bamboo poles and our old utility trailer and we went to work.

Every day in September, after school, we came home and started harvesting almonds.  First we took that big mallet and hit the trees as hard as we could.  That would shake the branches and make most of the almonds fall into the sandy soil under the trees.  Then we would take the bamboo poles and reach high into the trees and knock the stubborn nuts out one at a time.

When all the nuts were on the ground we raked them into piles and scooped them into our utility trailer.  As we scooped them up, we made sure to shake the scoop so that the sand and grass and sticks fell through the wire basket, leaving only almonds.

Now, almonds don't look like the ones you buy in the store, or even the ones you get in your Christmas stocking when they come out of the tree.  They're covered in a fuzzy green hull that splits open when the nuts are ripe, exposing that hole-y, beautiful buff-colored woody shell.  So we loaded our trailer full of nuts with the hulls and shells still on them.

When the trailer was so full that almonds were piled above the edges and the springs were pushed almost flat, we hooked it to our Volkswagen bus and pulled it to the almond processing plant that was in the middle of one of the orchards near us.  We drove onto a giant scale and got weighed.  Then we emptied our almonds into a machine that spun them and knocked them around.  That machine knocked the hulls off and spat out golden-shelled nuts.  Then the nuts went into another machine that cracked the shells and separated the nut meat from the shells.

This process took some time, so we left the almond processing plant, got weighed on our way out, and went home.  We knew how much to pay the almond processing plant owner for his work because he subtracted our empty weight on the way out from our loaded weight on the way in and charged us a certain amount of money per pound to hull and shell the nuts.

Later in the week, the plant owner called and we went and picked up our shelled almonds.  They were in burlap sacks that weighed more than you do.  When we got them home we divided the nuts into smaller bags that weighed between 1 and 5 pounds.  And we sold those nuts to neighbors and friends.

We saved all the money we made from those nuts and in the middle of winter, after Christmas vacation was over and all the kids were back in school, we would rent a condominium at a ski resort near Lake Tahoe and ski for a whole week.  Uncle Eric, Uncle Dean and Uncle Paul and I would ski with Grandma and Grandpa.  And we would ski all day.  At night we would stay in the condo and do our homework we'd brought with us and the assignments our teachers had given us to work on during the week.

Every day of the week.  Until it was time to go home.

I remember the first time I tried to ski.  I was pretty sure I didn't like it.

It was a cold day with snow and rain mixing in the uniquely Sierra Nevada season of "springter".  The beginner slope didn't have a chair lift to sit on and ride up.  Instead it had what we called a "pommel lift".  The pommel lift was a cable that moved up the slope.  And attached to the cable was a rope with a disc-like seat on it.  The trick was to catch the rope, put it between your legs, let the disc catch you on the bottom, and stay on your skis as the cable pulled you up the hill.

I was already cold and wet and scared and discouraged before I had to face that contraption.  When it was my turn to ride up, the lift caught me off balance and I fell into the snow.  My skis tangled and I couldn't get up.  I was crying and mad.  And then a nice woman skied over to me and picked me up.  I must have been saying something about "stupid skis" and "hate this" and "don't want to" because she made me look at her and very calmly and confidently told me that I just needed to give it another try.  By the end of the day, she assured me, I would be loving it.

Sometimes it's good for a young boy to have a beautiful older woman be confident in his abilities.  When she was done with her pep talk, I would have done anything she told me to, because I believed she believed I could.

I mastered the pommel lift on my next try and only let it throw me once or twice more that day.  When I got to the top of the slope all I knew was that pointing my skis downhill would make me go fast and that pointing my toes together and pushing my heels out would slow me down.

And so I went down.  When I felt like I was going too fast I pointed my toes and pushed my heels.  When that didn't work, I bailed.  Down I went in an explosion of snow and skis.  Then I found my gear, put my skis back on, and started over again.

And by the end of the day I was LOVING it!

For the next 7 years we made it a tradition to have our ski week and we found every other excuse we could to get to the mountains to ski.

In January 1988 I was in the middle of my senior year of high school.  We rented a condo at Squaw Valley and on the first run of the first day Uncle Eric and I took on a short and fairly straightforward black diamond run for expert skiers.  Less than halfway down, I got stuck in the bottom of a mogul and when I made my hop-turn everything on my body turned.

Except my right leg below the knee.

For years I'd wondered how embarrassing it was for those skiers who had to be pulled off the mountain by the heroes in red jackets that worked for the Ski Patrol.

Now I was finding out.  Grandpa took me to the ski resort clinic where I got a brace to strap onto my swollen leg.

And that was the last time I skied with my brothers.  I spent the rest of the week in the condo with partially torn ligaments in my knee that would prevent me from doing much normal walking for most of my last semester of high school.

After I joined the Army I was stationed in Germany.  I bought a great pair of skis and boots and skied all over Europe.  It was fun, but it wasn't the same as skiing with my brothers.

This January I got to ski with my brother again.  Uncle Eric and I met in Park City, Utah with our kids.  They learned to ski and snowboard while he and I got to enjoy each other's company as we rode up and tore down the mountains.

Just like old times.

The Death of The Fourth and Sixth Amendments...

Late on Saturday, New Year's Eve, 2010 President Barack Obama signed into law a bill sent to him by John Boehner and Harry Reid.  It was innocuously called the "National Defense Appropriation Act" and, contrary to the title's tone, constitutes one of the most broad reaching and egregious abrogations of the Natural Rights of Americans protected until this year by the United States Constitution.

Section 1020 (c-1) of the act provides for the "detention under the law of war without trial until the end of hostilities" of any person, regardless of citizenship, accused (interestingly it is not "charged" or "convicted") of terrorism or supporting terrorism against the United States or any person who has "substantially supported" any "associated forces" of terrorist organizations.

The act further allows the military, at the discretion of the president, to detain Americans without arraignment or filing charges and without trial for the duration of hostilities.

Disturbingly, President George W. Bush outlined exactly how long that will be.  On 20 Sep 2001 he said, "Our 'war on terror' begins with Al-Qaeda, but it does not end there.  It will not end until every terrorist group of global reach has been found, stopped and defeated."

Now, I'll be the first to say that terrorism is evil and that there is no place on the face of the earth for a terrorist or someone who supports terrorism in any way.

And I'll also be the first to say that Americans are exceptional in part because we are protected in the exercise of our unalienable rights by the most remarkable document ever penned by man.  We call it the Constitution.

Our rights as citizens do not derive from the Constitution, as many think.  Rather, our rights - all Natural Rights, and not only those listed in the Bill of Rights - derive from "the God of Nature".  He grants them to all mankind, and they are guaranteed to Americans by the Constitution in that the Constitution prohibits the government of the United States, or any agent thereof, from abridging or restricting them.

And so we see a continuation of the unchecked infringement of our Natural Rights by a government - a "bi-partisan" government - in the "National Defense Appropriation Act" of 2011.

The Fourth Amendment secures all Americans in their persons, papers, property and effects from search or seizure without a duly sworn search warrant that is specific in defining the location and the nature of the items to be found and seized.

The Sixth Amendment ensures that the government will not hold a person without notifying them of the nature of the crime they are accused of, will allow them to confront their accusers, will allow them to present witnesses on their behalf, and will provide for a speedy and public trial by jury.

There is some contradiction between the wording of the act and the wording of the amendments.

I know some of you whose names start with "K" don't always read the articles I link to.  In this case, please take the time to visit:

http://www.addictinginfo.org/2012/01/03/the-ndaa-a-dangerous-precedent-even-with-the-signing-statement/

It's a short-ish article that does a great job of getting to the meat of the detention issue.  I will say that they gloss over the fact that there appears to be an out in that the act does not "require" the military to detain a US citizen indefinitely.

But "not requiring" and "forbidding" are not the same thing.

Call me a cynic, but my head wants to explode when I think that the act does not prohibit the indefinite detention of US citizens.  

Memories (4)...

Two years ago today my entire family was together, celebrating a new year.

Here's the story for my kids:

It was New Year's Day, 2010.  We'd rented a huge house on the beach in Dana Point, California and had spent a week there together.  My brothers were all there with their families.  My parents were there, too.  We'd planned that time with the distinct feeling that it would be our last time together as a family.

My dad had been struggling with his third round of cancer for more than 5 years.  He was losing weight and was in constant pain.

I was 18 years old when the Army sent me to Germany.  I was stationed with the 12th Engineer Battalion in the 8th Infantry Division at a remote site called "Anderson Barracks".  I'd been there only a couple of months when I got a letter from my mom telling me my dad had found a lump and had been diagnosed with breast cancer.

He beat that with chemotherapy and surgery, then when my second son was born in 1998 he was diagnosed with prostate cancer.

Again, he beat it with radiation and surgery.

My dad was always good-humored about things.  When he had his mastectomy we teased him that he was only "half a man" now.  When he had his prostate surgery we laughed that he was only "a third of a man."

When he came home from a backpacking trip and noticed persistent migratory pain in his lower back, he was diagnosed with cancer again.  This time, the breast cancer was back, but had metastasized in his lungs and on the bones of his pelvis, spine and rib cage.  The doctors in 2004 gave him a 50% chance of living another 6 months and declining odds every month after that.

When he called to tell me about the cancer's return he told me, "John, this time it's going to get me."  He wasn't sad or dramatic.  He wasn't overly brave or cavalier.  He was just telling me the truth.

But my dad had a great attitude and was a naturally happy person.  I believe that God's blessing rested on him and he lived more than 6 more years after his diagnosis.  By the end of 2009 we knew the end was close for him.

And so we all arranged to meet in Southern California for one last time.  It turned out to be the last time we were all together.


We played in the sand and in the water.  We played in the hot tub.  We even went to Disneyland.  It was a great vacation.


Paul was always a big hit with his fan club.  My kids, Eric's kids and Dean's kids all looked at this huge, adventurous, motorcycle-riding teddy bear like he was a cross between a mystic icon and a favorite play mate.  They loved, as only children can, the idea that Uncle Paul had one metal leg.  He was easily their favorite because they felt safe and welcome when they were around him.

Grandpa was still healthy enough to hold the grandkids on his lap.  He walked on the beach and watched them build sand castles.  Although he was getting weaker, he had a smile.

One evening, when the pain was overwhelming and the medication was fogging his mind, Grandpa decided that he wanted everyone to watch a short video that he had recently seen and that had impacted him greatly.  It was called "The Christmas Orange".  But the grandkids didn't want to pay attention to a movie.  They wanted to play with each other and talk with their aunts, uncles and grandparents.

We, Uncle Eric, Uncle Dean, Uncle Paul and I, tried to get Grandpa to forget about the movie and let the kids play.  But Grandpa wouldn't let go of the idea.  The pain, the medicine and the frustration worked together and Grandpa got really upset.  Some of the older kids realized this and tried to start the movie, but it was too late.  Grandpa was so upset he didn't want to show the movie then.

This is when I realized just how sick my dad was.  This is when I think I understood that my dad was going to die.  Really.

And we really enjoyed that time together.  Uncle Paul and I went swimming in the cold ocean water more than once a day.  We swam together, climbed on rocks together, then soaked in the hot tub or sat in the sauna to warm up together.

I think it was the best vacation I've ever been on.

I remember standing on the beach with your mom.  Standing very close.  And thinking to myself that this was perfect.  The fresh ocean air, the sinking winter sun, the love of family, and the most beautiful and wonderful woman in the world.

I never wanted to go home.  I never wanted that time to end.  I never wanted to be apart from my family again.

And now life has changed.  Before the next new year Uncle Paul had died.  Grandpa had died.  My job had changed and I was home only a few days each month.  The world as I knew it - as I had always imagined it - had changed forever.

Today, as I walked in the pleasantly cool winter air of Houston, Texas, I looked at the blue sky and the red leaves on the trees and whispered out loud, "I miss you, Paul.  I miss you, Dad."

And I thought I felt them close to me.

It didn't take away the missing.  But it did help ease the pain.  And I have hope along with the pain and the missing.  I have hope because I know we'll all be together as a family again, after this life is done.  And when we are, we won't have the sicknesses or the weaknesses or the demons that dog us here on earth.

We will be healthy and peaceful and happy.  Together.  Forever.

Merry Christmas, Everybody...!

Memories (3)...

The year after we moved back to California from Colorado, I was 10.  My brothers were 8, 6, and just 5.  My dad had grown up backpacking in the Sierra Nevada Mountains of Southern California and he was eager to introduce us to the spectacular beauty of those wonderful peaks and valleys.  This was in June, 1981

Here is a story my girls have heard only once or twice:

When I was 10, and Uncle Eric was 8, Uncle Dean was 6 and Uncle Paul was just 5 years old, Grandpa took us backpacking.  We drove for what seemed like a very long time, then we parked our Volkswagen bus off a dirt road in a pine forest.

On a backpacking trip you carry everything you will need on your back.  Some backpacks look like the ones you have for school or car trips, only bigger.  Some backpacks have frames to carry the load inside them, and others have them outside.  When we were boys we didn't have any backpacks - only frames with shoulder straps.

Grandpa laid the frame on the ground and put a tarp over the frame.  Then he put all of our things on the tarp.  He put an extra pair of pants, an extra shirt, 2 pairs of socks, a sweatshirt and a stocking cap.  Then he put our sleeping bag and our share of the food we would carry.  Grandpa carefully folded the tarp so that it covered our things and so that it would keep them dry if it rained, then he tied it tightly to the backpack frame.

Then we all lifted our packs and started walking.  We followed a trail and used a map and compass to make sure we were where we thought we were.  When we came to a high spot that had a good view, we would take out the map and turn it so it was lined up with the mountains and valleys around us and use the compass to measure where we were.

We were walking to Chewing Gum Lake.  On the trail it was about 10 miles - which is a very long way for short legs to walk.  And we got to Chewing Gum Lake late in the afternoon.

The lake was clear and dark, dark blue.  The water was very cold, because until just weeks before we got there it had been frozen!  Now it was late spring, and the days were warm and sunny.

But as we set up camp, Grandpa thought it might rain, so he pulled out two thin plastic sheets and stretched them over ropes tied between the trees.  We made our beds under them and went to sleep.  We were very tired.

In the morning when I woke up I saw that the plastic sheet that had been high above my face was now very close to my nose.  And every time Uncle Eric or I breathed in the tent moved closer.  We crawled toward the end of the tent and found that the trees, the rocks and the ground were covered in almost a foot of snow!

We didn't have any snow boots or jackets or gloves.  We played in the snow for a little while, but we knew it was important to stay dry, too.  After all, we only had one other pair of pants and two pairs of socks.  If we got wet it would be impossible to stay warm.

Grandpa didn't seem worried.  He cooked our breakfast.  Later he fed us lunch.  We had only planned on staying out for one night and coming home the following afternoon.  But now we could see that it might be best to wait one more night so the snow could melt a little more.

Grandpa always was prepared.  He had brought some extra food and we ate it for dinner that night.  We said a prayer for help and for good weather.  Then we went to bed.

In the morning we woke to find - you guessed it - more snow!

There is a time to wait and a time to move.  And Grandpa decided that it was time to move.  He fed us what little food we had left, then we packed up our things.

Grandpa laid out his map and used his compass to make sure it was lined up with the earth just right.  Then he turned his compass and pointed it to the spot on the map where we had left our car.  He stood up, put on his pack, checked his compass one more time, and started walking.  And we followed as fast as our legs could go.

The trail coming in had been gentle and smooth.  It had wound along meadows and curved around steep hills and cliffs.

The path we took to get back to the car was no path at all.  It was an imaginary line pointed out by our compass.  It took us up steep rock faces, through bushes, and over hills.  Whenever we came to a high point with a good view, Grandpa would check his map and his compass again to make sure we were still on course - heading for our car and safety.

For Uncle Eric, Uncle Dean, Uncle Paul and me this was a great adventure!  We were being just like Daniel Boone or Davey Crockett or Lewis and Clark.  We were exploring and blazing a trail through the wilderness.  I realize now that for Grandpa this was a race against time, temperature and fatigue.  Winning the race would mean getting home to Grandma.  Losing the race would mean understanding more about the Donner Party who had met their terrible fate 134 years before and just miles from where we were.

After what seemed like a long time, with very wet feet and pants, we came out of the woods onto a dirt road.  Grandpa looked right.  Then he looked left.  He turned left and started walking down the road.  And we followed him.

And there, fewer than 500 feet from where we'd come out of the trees, guided by our compass for nearly 4 miles straight through the wilderness, was our green and white 1978 Volkswagen bus.

Maybe you're wondering about the prayer for good weather.  Sometimes we get what we need instead of what we want.  There wasn't nearly as much snow on the second night as there had been the first.  And as we climbed lower on the mountains the snow on the ground disappeared.  The second day was not rainy or snowy.  And it wasn't too hot, either.

On all that forced march none of us complained about being tired or hungry or scared.  I don't think any of us felt tired or hungry or scared.  We carried our packs and we followed Grandpa.

And so, was our prayer for good weather and help answered?  Absolutely.  And so will yours be - maybe in ways that you don't want, but always in just the ways you need.

Classic Christmas...

Happy Birthday, Dad...

I miss you.

Reaping What Was Sown In The Arab Spring...

This video is graphic and disturbing.  If it offends you, I am truly sorry.  If you are bothered by senseless mob violence in the name of the State, I invite you not to watch it.

On 3 February 2011 I told you that Egypt would end up this way.

Here is video from Egypt taken on 17 December 2011.  The western press wants to call these people "police" and "military" forces.  That is a slur on all professional soldiers and law enforcement officers around the world.  What they truly are amounts to no more than rabble wearing military surplus gear viciously attacking literally helpless protesters. 

I'll be the first to say it.  Shouting and throwing rocks at a group of disciplined and trained police or soldiers is always a bad idea.  Doing the same to a mob of young male thugs living out the hellish contradictions and repression of an Islamist Paradise is just plain stupid.  And I don't know what those protesters had done just before the camera went on.

Having said that, there is no excuse for the behavior recorded here.  None.  It is the manifestation of evil and I say it is as evil as the Rwandan Genocide and the Nazi Holocaust.  And this does not even contemplate the wholesale slaughter of Coptic Christians who enjoyed religious freedom for more than 1500 years in Egypt and now are being exterminated. 

I hope that Mr. Obama and the ignorant others who supported the ouster of Hosni Mubarak will understand that what Egypt has today is much, much worse than what it had last Christmas. 

The liberal is either woefully naive and willfully ignorant relative to human nature, or holds as his highest aim the degradation and misery of all the human race. 

God save us all if this is what is coming to America.

http://youtu.be/4iboFV-yeTE

The True Meaning of Christmas...

Merciful Jesus,
Who takes away the sins of the world,
Grant them rest.

Lamb of God,
Who takes away the sins of the world,
Grant them rest.
Everlasting.
Rest.

Merry Christmas!

Memories (2)...

This is the second in my stories for my girls.  It's one my youngest especially loves.  It would have been early in 1975.

As long as I can remember, Grandpa always kept bees.  Bee keeping was a pastime that his great uncle enjoyed.  In fact, he liked it so much that his great uncle sold the honey his bees produced in Southern California.

Our bees lived in hives.  The hives where the bees lived were like white boxes and when I was little they were about as tall as I was.  They stood on metal legs and my dad wrapped oily rags around them so that ants and other bugs wouldn't climb inside.  And they were always in a back or bottom corner of our yard.

Each year, Grandpa would put on a big white suit that covered his whole body.  He would put on thick gloves and high boots.  He would put on a straw had with a net to cover his face.  Then he would light a small fire in a smoke can.  Grandpa blew that smoke into the beehive.  Some of the bees came out to get away from the smoke.  The bees that stayed in the hive just fell asleep.

Then Grandpa would take the top off the hive and remove the honeycomb.  With a hot knife he shaved the wax seals off the honeycomb and golden sweet honey started running out.  He put the honeycomb frames into a spinner set in a big drum that had a crank on top and a faucet on bottom.  Then Grandpa would turn the crank as fast as he could, making the honey spin out of the honeycombs and splash on the insides of the drum, then run down into the bottom.

Uncle Eric, Uncle Dean, Uncle Paul and I would put a glass jar under the faucet, then open the faucet to let the honey run out and fill the jar.  And Grandpa made sure to give us bits of honeycomb to chew on.  It was like very sweet gum!

Then Grandpa would put new honeycombs into the hives and let the bees come home.  And they started making more honey right away.

When Uncle Dean was a baby he loved two things.  He loved to watch bugs and animals.  And he loved to hit things with sticks.

You might be able to see where this is going....

One day, when Uncle Dean was just a baby, and we still lived in California, he crawled out to the beehive and sat up on the ground.  He watched the bees fly in and out.  He watched the bees crowd the entrance to the hive and fan cooling air into the hive with their wings.

And then he noticed, on the ground next to him, a stick.

Uncle Dean picked up the stick and started hitting the side of the beehive.  And the bees did not like it one bit!

They flew out of the hive and landed on Uncle Dean.  There he sat, wearing only a cloth diaper, while the bees stung him.  Because he was just a baby he couldn't run away.  He couldn't even think to crawl away because the bee stings hurt him so much.  So he sat there and cried.

When Grandma heard Uncle Dean crying she came running.  She picked up Uncle Dean and brushed the bees off of him.  She carried him into the house and put a paste made of baking soda and water on the stings. This was to draw out the poison.

The baking soda paste worked.  But Uncle Dean had been stung more than 30 times.  His eyes swelled up.  His lips swelled up.  And he was covered with bumps for quite a few days.

But that wasn't the end of his problems with bees!  That's a story for another night...

Coincidence...?

Okay, I usually don't do things like this, but a friend of mine forwarded a forward of a forward that I actually looked at before deleting.

It tickled me.  I think it could be said of many of our presidents.  And since this is my blog, I'll put it up regardless of whether or not I think it'll tickle you.

"In the coming year, 2012, the State of the Union Address and Groundhog Day will both occur on February 2nd.  

"This is an ironic juxtaposition of events.

"One involves a meaningless ritual in which we look to a creature of minimal intelligence for prognostication.

"The other involves a groundhog."

Memories (1)...

My youngest girls are constantly asking me to tell them stories about my life before them.  So, I think from time to time that I'll write them here so they can read them later.

One of their very favorites is this.  It probably happened the summer of 1978.

When I was a boy we lived in Colorado, near the Colorado River.  Uncle Eric, Uncle Dean, Uncle Paul and I did not have many rules, but there was ONE rule we HAD to obey:  NEVER go in the Colorado River.  The water was deep and fast and dangerous.  It could sweep a person away and suck them under and they could disappear forever.  They could even die!

One HOT summer day, Uncle Eric, Uncle Dean, Uncle Paul and I walked down to the edge of the Colorado River.  The big trees along the bank had droopy branches covered with leaves that made little forts near the trunks of the trees.  We played in the cool shade, but as the day went on, it got hotter.

And we looked at the cool brown water (it looked like chocolate milk) of the Colorado River and thought it would be so nice if we could just put our toes in it.  After all, putting your toes in is not the same thing as "going in", right?

So we took our shoes off and dipped our toes in the cool water and it felt SO good!

But as the day went on, it got hotter.  And we looked at the cool brown water and thought it would be so nice if we could just put our feet in it.  Our socks were already wet and, after all, putting your feet in is not the same thing as "going in", right?

So we put our feet in the cool water and it felt SO good!

But as the day went on, it got hotter.  And we looked at the cool brown water and thought it would be so nice if we could just walk in the water up to our knees.  After all, our feet were already wet and muddy and walking in the water up to your knees isn't the same thing as "going in", right?

So we found a shallow spot that didn't drop off too quickly and walked in the water up to our knees and it felt SO good!

And then all of a sudden, Uncle Dean shouted!  He jumped out of the water and onto the river bank.  We looked in surprise and then noticed that he only had one sock on.  "Hey, Dean," we said, "what happened to your sock?"  With wide eyes Uncle Dean pointed to the water and said, "A giant crawdad grabbed my sock and wouldn't let go!"

That was enough to get us all out of the water.

We put on our shoes and walked home.  And when we got there Uncle Dean had to explain to Grandma what had happened to his sock.

And I don't think we EVER went back in the Colorado River without our parents again.

Shift Focus: Homegrown Terrorists

John Brennan, President Obama's top advisor on terrorism, has issued a new report.  In it he astutely notes that military efforts around the world have reduced Al Qaida's ability to operate effectively on an international scale.  He also points out that there is an increasing threat from inside America.

I think that's where the intelligent part of the report ends and the liberal doublespeak and political correctness begins.  Mr. Brennan suggests that the United States' approach to the threat of Mumbai-style attacks on domestic urban centers and Beslan-esque seiges at our public schools should be "education".

Mind you, this isn't an education campaign aimed at Muslim extremists or Muslim fence-sitters, teaching them about the value of personal liberty or the greatness of the American way of life or the fact that America allows true Muslims a greater chance to express their religiosity and develop a personal relationship with Allah than any other country on earth.

No.  It's an education campaign aimed at members of communities.  It wants to teach us about the local, state and national resources that are available to us to keep us safe.

Really?!

Really.

In fact, Mr. Brennan goes as far as to assert that his education campaign would be modeled after those used to reduce gang violence, sex crimes and school shootings!  Heaven help us if that approach is also as effective.

Even more disturbing to me than the naivete of Mr. Brennan's community outreach program is the fact that he lumps all "extremism" into one category of "potential terrorists".

Now, I know that there are extreme vegetarians and extreme animal lovers and extremely devout Buddhists and Christians and Jews.  There are extreme Republicans and extreme Democrats.  And I know that sometimes PETA-types burn down mink barns and Sierra Club-types spike old-growth trees.  I know that sometimes even a Timothy McVeigh-type does something horrific.

But those crimes don't rise to the level of systematic terror with the goal of destroying the American way of life and enforcing a system of belief and behavior that is antithetical to all that is good and decent.

Eco-terrorism and militia-oriented terrorism have precise targets.  For animal rights terrorists, it's the evil corporations abusing our friends.  For tree huggers, its the evil corporations abusing our friends.  For Timothy McVeigh it was the evil federal government that abused his friends at Waco and Ruby Ridge.

But for Islamic terrorists their target is not so precise.  Or maybe it is exactly so precise.  It is not any entity abusing their friends.  Witness the lack of real support for the Palestinian cause among the Muslim world.

Their target is anyone who does not agree with them.  Their goal is to force submission and to annihilate dissent.  Their target is the adult, the child, the elderly, the infirm, the homosexual, the woman, the mentally ill, the Christian, the Jew, the pagan, the corporatist, the capitalist, the bureaucrat, the monarch, the president, the peasant, the infidel.

Put A Little Love InYour Heart...

The UK Daily Mail reports this week that two hunters in New England died.  While tracking a wounded deer, one of the men shot at what he thought was the animal.

Tragically, it was his friend and long-time hunting partner.

In his angst and distress after watching his friend die, the man then shot himself.

At the end of many online news stories, readers may publish comments.  I was disheartened by the tone of the comments.  Liberal animal lovers rejoiced in the double tragedy.  Conservative sportsmen mocked the lack of prowess and caution that led to a hunter-on-hunter shooting.

Precious few of the commenters remembered the families of both men and the terrible loss they're experiencing.

Can't we remember our humanity?  Can't we return to a civil society?  Can't we remember to do to others the things we would like done to and for us - in the way that we would like them done?  Can't we give more mercy, feel more empathy, send more love into the world?

This Thanksgiving and Christmas Season, despite the "world turned upside down", let us remember that God who gives all good things loves every one of His creations.  He loved the world so that He gave His Only Begotten Son so that we all can hope for better things to come.

This time of year - and all times of the year - let us remember to put a little love in our heart.  And the world will be a better place for you and me.  Just wait and see....

No-No-No-No-No! Not Again...!

Are we REALLY going to allow ourselves (we "US Americans") to be FOOLED again?

The UK Guardian is already starting the fear mongering with this headline:  "Supercommittee Failure Could Trigger US Credit Downgrade, Economists Warn"

If forming this idiotic, extra-legislative, unaccountable supercommittee wasn't enough to keep us from having our debt downgraded, what in the name of all that's holy makes us think that any product they come up with - or DON'T come up with - is going to affect whether or not our debt takes another beating?

The ONLY answer that financial markets will respond to is a fiscally responsible answer.  They will not respond to a political answer.  We learned that this past summer!

E-freaking-NOUGH, already!

We "US Americans" and our so-called "leaders" need to grow a pair at least the size of Greece's (sad commentary on our national vigor and virility) and confront the cold, hard reality that the PONZI scheme we call the New Deal and the Great Society is just that: an unsustainable house of cards.

The answer is that everyone already on the dole - Social Security, public service pensions, etc. - can stay on it and expect to receive everything they "have coming to them".  Those who are closer than 10 years away from that golden hammock can expect to see their benefits fixed at today's rates.  Everyone who is 10 or more years away from that magical retirement age can expect nothing.

If the 401k/403b scheme is good enough for the masses, then by gum, it's good enough for the drones who pretend to be "public servants".

All "US Americans" not already on the dole should be allowed to save and invest an unlimited portion of their income before taxes in retirement accounts that will grow tax-free forever and that will not be subject to the estate tax upon the owner's death.

It's time for Americans to return to their rugged individualist, self-sufficient roots and for American government to return to its limited, tightly controlled, closely defined role.

Walt Kelly may have been right.  "We have met the enemy; and he is us!"  Our apathy as Americans, our blind and naive trust in "leaders" to do the right thing, has brought our nation to this point.  We've allowed seemingly benign or well-intentioned overreaching until now we don't even notice when our natural rights are abridged or annihilated altogether.

We've done it to ourselves!  The good news is that we can UN-do it for our children.

Historical Marker Near Truckee, CA...

I often hear politicians, Republican and Democrat, including President Obama tell us that government spending is needed to drive the development of a high-speed rail system in our country.  I'm not sure what that means, but if it looks like the simple overpass near my house that has been under construction for more than a year, I'm not interested in repeating that all the way from "the New York islands to the redwood forests". 

Further, I heard President Obama claim that the United States government created the transcontinental railroad system.  I could have sworn that the Central Pacific Railroad and the Union Pacific Railroad built the railroad beginning in Council Bluffs, Iowa and Oakland, California and working toward eachother to a meeting point near Ogden, Utah in 1869.

This plaque, placed near the railroad on Interstate 80 in California doesn't even mention government involvement.  In fact, it specifically cites Chinese labor and a man named Charles Crocker.

As Americans, let us not lose sight of the fact that the vision of great men and women combined with the incentive of possibly improving one's own station and standing in life drove the founding and the development of this great nation.

This primary season, support and vote for the candidate you feel best reflects your values and will best protect and restore your liberty.  Do not be bullied into accepting mediocrity or compromise in your primary choice.  And in the general election, vote for the candidate whose values are closest to yours again.  Do not sit on the sidelines because failing to vote is the same as giving half a vote to the "other side". 

Let us not lose sight of the fact that we are endowed by our Creator with certain unalienable rights and that no earthly force or philosophy can rightly abridge or deny us those rights. And let us, this election, seek those who would break the shackles, lighten the burdens, ease the bondage and look to the betterment of the condition of Americans today and of future generations.

Inconsistent...?

Mother Jones magazine (yes, I'm a subscriber) featured an article called "Michele Bachmannn:  Crazy Like a Fox?" in its August 2011 issue.  http://motherjones.com/politics/2011/08/michele-bachmann-iowa-frontrunner?page=2

I thought it was a well-done piece with a decided bias.  In part of it the author, Tim Murphy, examined Mrs. Bachmann's views on creationism and her effort to include it in charter school curriculum.

I want to quote a piece of the article that exposes the inconsistency of the progressive or liberal mindset.  It comes from a then-opponent of Mrs. Bachmann's efforts named Bob Beltrame.  He told Mrs. Bachmann, as he recalls it, "Everybody can have their own beliefs, but it doesn't belong in the classroom."

So, subscribing to the Theory of Evolution, or the Big Bang Theory does not constitute having a "belief", but subscribing to the idea of Creationism does?  So far as I know, none of us was around to see the "Grand Beginning", and so by definition, we all simply "believe" what we will about it.

The liberal assertion here seems to be that the liberal line is fact and the non-liberal line is superstition. Mrs. Bachmann's belief is not welcome in Mr. Beltrame's classroom; yet Mr. Beltrame's belief must be accepted in Mrs. Bachmann's?

You see, we MUST talk about the substance of the issues.  Here, the substance is not whether God created the Universe, or whether it came about by happenstance.  The substance is whether it is the place of a public institution to promote one philosophy or theory over another.

I argue that if we are going to talk about the beginning of the world, we ought to expose children to as many of the ideas about it as possible.  We do it to some extent in examining Native American, Greek and Roman mythology in elementary school.  We do it extensively when discussing Darwin's ideas in middle and high school biology .  Why do we ignore the idea that an intelligent force or a god may have had a hand in the work, as well?

"Congress shall make no law respecting the establishment of religion or prohibiting the free exercise thereof..."

If one "belief" is welcome, should not all be?  This seems more in keeping with the First Amendment than the current practice of promoting one over the other.