April 30, 2006
I have scarcely attended any movie or watched any TV for 25 years. Nowadays whenever I happen to read movie reviews or glance at television I am both appalled and amused. The antics of the Hollywood crowd, however, do provide entertainment---rather like dancing seals or dogs walking on their hind legs. The grubby world in which these glamorous sorts live is filled with perversion, disloyalty to mate and country, drugs, booze, and lots of money. Almost to the man the Hollywood elite is jackass stupid, and it passes up no opportunity to prove this.
One of this motley throng---somebody named Jake Gyllenhaal---decided to demonstrate his shallowness by mouthing off on the first Gulf War. Apparently this fellow had made a movie about it that no one saw. (A common vulgarity in the quote---Hollywood types are nothing if not embarrassingly vulgar---has been edited. I have standards.)
Of course nothing Jake could say about anything in the universe cries out for commentary. His views demand as much interest as a dog copulating in the street. But then I remembered: Was this not the pretty little fellow who presented his naked backside to another pretty little fellow upon some Brokeback Mountain? Did he not writhe in ecstasy as he and his 'partner' performed the gymnastics of Sodom? Did not Jake do this in public and for money? Did he not later boast about his Kama Sutra-like ability to please his catamite on film? (No, I don't know which one of these manly men in that Brokeback movie was actually the catamite. My bad. But my ignorance of Jake's actual geographic position vis-à-vis his fellow likely lad changes nothing.)
Why yes, Jake's the boy! He seems to have an interest in sexual perversion. Well then, maybe he can re-make his Gulf War movie. All of the actors in it can simply stay in their tents rather than wage war. Their time there can be taken up doing what callow little Jake has claimed they mostly did instead of shooting foreign folks. Heck, those Hollywood types would not even have to act. They could be paid to do what they would anyway choose to do whenever they have time on their empty and calloused hands.
April 27, 2006
I made the usual political progression as the youth became a man. When young and frivolous I thought myself---when I thought at all---as somewhat of a libertine, thus a Democrat. That party had then and has now absolutely no problem with sin personal and public. One can eat, drink and be merry, and sodomize, abort and betray as long as one worships the State, the one and only god. His name is Moloch, he of old, he of Canaanite fame, he of ancient Carthage. He never went away, but none of the old gods have really gone away. But these fellows are a subject for another time.
It was college that began to turn my mind into something other than that of a clever and charming animal. Higher education actually made good on its promise. I was introduced to the Wisdom of the Dead, those hordes of billions who had lived and loved and perished long before I took my place on the earth. Reading in History was embarrassing. Like Mere Christianity did for me later in the Realm of the Eternal, History showed me that in worldly things everything I knew was wrong and muddle-headed. Inexorably I morphed from liberal Democrat to Independent to conservative Republican. That is to say, I grew up. I put away childish things. And it really did not hurt much.
The tenets of my new faith were few and simple. The State is a necessary evil, so limit its scope and size. Put all sorts of checks and balances in its way. As much as possible it should be out of our lives. Taxes are necessary as well, but since they are the food of the state these should be limited to paying for those few things that the state can do well, such as killing people and breaking things. Like Caesar's Gaul every known society across 6000 years has had three parts, state, family and religion. Civilization devours itself when one of those parts begins to encroach upon another. There is more, but those are the essentials from which the principles of conservative thought can be derived.
And how things have changed just in a few years. As the Democrats have lurched further and further left, the Republicans have followed shadowlike at a distance. And 9/11 changed nothing. It merely demonstrated that the State is as efficient at killing foreigners as it is at killing babies in the womb. There is no essential difference between Republicans and Democrats concerning public education, illegal immigration, solutions to the oil problem, the environment, the size of government and the spending for it, entitlements---and Republicans have gone wobbly on the permanence of tax cuts. Even treason has become, Clinton-like, something that is unremarkable and unpunished.
What is left is the Supreme Court and the Iraq War. If Republicans lose the Senate in November then one can say goodbye for a generation to the idea that the Judicial Branch will actually refer to the US Constitution when commenting upon the law.
And now the Republican Party sends missive after missive to my home, begging for money. Money for what? To write education bills with Ted Kennedy? To abandon the principles of macroeconomics and attack oil companies because of gasoline prices? To increase spending and entitlements? To magically turn 12 million criminals into citizens?
My party has simply left me in the dust to go whoring after Democrat votes. And now November beckons and so these sons of female dogs of the Republican Party promise this and promise that. Good God, do they not think I know when I am being lied to? The party salivates for my vote and will say anything to get it. It reminds me of my last wife.
I love my nation. I love my God. I love our military. I love my students. And I despise the Republican Party. But I despise the Democrats more. And so I will vote Republican this November. And after voting I will go home, shut the blinds and have a stiff drink. Or two. And take a very long shower.
And if some Republican activist has the misfortune to come to my home and ask for favors, I will spit in his face.
George and Ted? Or Monica and Bill?
(Hat tip: Michelle Malkin)
April 20, 2006
The life expectancy of an American homosexual is 50 years.
Brokeback men. Brokeback love. Brokeback life. Brokeback death.
What a waste.
April 19, 2006
This Saturday will be testing day for yours truly. Yep, at 52 I still have to bestir myself for exam preparation. In my case it will be the final two tests to complete my Oklahoma Teaching Certification. Each will take 4 hours and each has a weird acronym sort of name: OSAT (Oklahoma Subject Area Test) and the OPTE (Oklahoma Professional Teaching Examination). I have already taken and passed the OGET (Oklahoma General Education Test). Here are the results of that one.
I have not the slightest idea if the results these exams demonstrate anything that relates to the teaching of hordes of middle schoolers. I do know that without a passing grade no one can enter the hallowed halls of American public education and draw a paycheck. So this Saturday it is off to hoop-jumping with #2 pencils, after which a bottle of White Zinfandel will be in order.
The three exams all told have cost me almost as much as a round trip ticket to South America. A bit odd, as Oklahoma offers teachers some of the lowest teaching salaries in the US.
I could wax eloquently at length about such things but I have a bit of studying to do and 'miles to go before I sleep.' Some other time perhaps.
April 15, 2006
Two thousand years ago in a far off province of the Roman Empire, a Carpenter was executed by the State. He had stirred up no small amount of trouble against the ruling local elite, Pharisees by name, and they had pressed upon the Roman governor to rid them of this meddlesome pest. It seems this Carpenter had gone about superbly insulting those Pharisees, calling them 'white-washed tombs' and 'hypocrites.' He had gathered quite a following among the rabble, who began to refer to Him as Rabbi, an accolade formerly only given to the Pharisees themselves.
Spurred by envy and fearful of losing their power over the people, they began to plot and scheme. They could not go about in the light and simply grab the Carpenter and toss Him in some dungeon, as the mob might tear the Pharisees to pieces. These Pharisees enlisted a follower of this Carpenter, one Judas, gathered up some of their policemen and went at night and arrested their Prey in a garden. He went unresisting.
His trial by the Pharisees that night was against all law and tradition, but those elites of that far off Roman province were desperate. They wanted to quickly get done what they thought simply had to get done, by hook or by crook. Like many today they were pragmatists. If something was necessary but a bit shady, well then go ahead with it for the good of the people. All will be well as the noble end would justify the grubby means.
And they were grubby indeed. Witnesses were coerced, violence was inflicted, evidence was falsified. When the Pharisees were satisfied, the condemned Man was dragged beaten and bleeding before the local agent of the Roman state. You see, those Pharisees were themselves under the jurisdiction of Rome. While this condition rankled, they now saw a way to use their servile condition to get Rome to do their own dirty work.
The Roman governor was Pontius Pilate, he of hand washing fame. Like every one of his kind if there was one thing he absolutely detested it was political instability. Rome wanted her representatives to keep the peace and collect the taxes. Indeed, the second depended upon the first. To Pilate this thing the Pharisees were forcing him to deal with had the potential of a revolt that might spin out of hand. From the balcony where he decided cases of law as far as he could see were mobs of screaming locals. A wrong decision might send this rabble on a rampage. Peace would be disrupted, taxes would fall into arrears and Pilate's political career would be imperiled. It was best to be done with this case as soon as possible.
And so it was. Pilate saw himself as a fair man, and perhaps he was by the standards of the Roman state. He questioned this Carpenter but could really get nothing out of Him. The Fellow claimed to be some sort of king, but that His kingdom was nowhere to be found. To Pilate all of this was gibberish, and it revolved around a rather technical aspect of the local theology. Any Roman could not have cared less about such things. And of this multitude screaming for the Carpenter to be executed, well why not give in to it? No one life was more important than peace and stability in a province of Rome. The Carpenter was hauled away and put to death in the manner of the time. It was not really a big deal to arrange on such short notice as a couple of others were scheduled to be executed that same day. One more death would not greatly inconvenience the Roman bureaucracy.
And so it was done. The cost of labor and materials to Rome was minimal: three nails and two beams of wood, and the pay of a few soldiers for extra duty. After a few hours Pilate was informed of the death of that rabble-rousing Carpenter. This was surprising as usually the condemned took much longer to expire. Pilate remembered that 100 years before the followers of the slave rebel Spartacus had been crucified by the thousands on both sides of a road that led to Rome. Travelers along that road for days afterward reported the screams and moans of dying men. But Pilate's men confirmed that the Carpenter was indeed dead. One had even shoved a spear into his side to make sure.
A follower of the dead Carpenter asked Pilate if he could claim the Body and bury it according to local tradition. Pilate was feeling relieved at having avoided an uprising and so granted this petition. But some of the Pharisees were troubled. There were rumors that this dead Carpenter would rise from the tomb. If some of His deluded followers managed to steal the corpse perhaps many would come to believe the fanciful tale. There would be problems for the Pharisees if this happened. Things might spin out of control. The Pharisees wanted Pilate to place some guards around the tomb of the dead Carpenter so that no one could possibly steal His body. This also Pilate granted, though perhaps he was inwardly laughing at such silly men. Resurrection after death? What astounding nonsense. True, in the Roman religions there were tales of such things, of dying gods coming back to life, but Pilate was a confirmed agnostic. He had to see to believe, a doubting Thomas before Thomas doubted.
Tough luck for those Pharisees, for when the tomb was opened the Body was gone. They were furious of course, but also impotent. Maybe nothing would happen after the rumors died away, they hoped. Ah, but much happened. Some of the locals began to claim that they had seen the Carpenter in the Flesh. Groups of people began to meet and talk about this dead Carpenter. Some of these groups began to abandon the faith in which they had been instructed by the Pharisees. This was the last straw. The Pharisees formed squads of roaming agents who had the power to arrest and imprison. The elites considered themselves fortunate that they had one of their own who was particularly fanatical in his disgust at those who followed the dead Carpenter. He was merciless and efficient.
A terrible shock came to the Pharisees when this man betrayed them. He actually joined those he had formerly persecuted. He traveled all about the Empire proclaiming the truth of the Carpenter, whose name Chrestos gave a name to His followers: Christians. This traitor to the Pharisees wrote as he traveled and his letters were copied and re-copied among the followers of Chrestos. His ideas spread---Antioch, Ephesus, Corinth, even to Rome herself. There these Christians were seen as some weird off-shoot of a weird religion in that far off province. Nothing to worry about. Rome had conquered many strange peoples with many strange beliefs. Who could keep track of them all? The new faith spread, especially in the Eternal City of Rome where that traitorous Pharisee ensconced himself. He wrote letter after letter and ream after ream of this new theology, all of which he sent to every Christian community throughout the empire of Rome.
All seemed well, but all was not well. For there came to power in Rome the anti-Christ Nero (54-68), a most degenerate and morally decayed man. He developed a particular hatred for the followers of Chrestos, all of whom refused to worship the emperor. This denial of the emperor's own godhood drove Nero to spasms of near unspeakable cruelty. He ordered that these Christians be exterminated wherever they could be found. And they were everywhere. They were rounded up and paraded to the Hippodrome, there to be torn to pieces by wild beasts, to be slaughtered by professional gladiators, to be covered in pitch and burned to light the streets of the Eternal City. Nero's tortures were superb political theater, quite refined in their ghastly torments and absolutely exquisite in their demonstration of the power of the Roman Emperor.
And it was all for nothing. For this faith in that dead Carpenter grew and spread. Indeed, it was as if with every sword thrust the splattering of blood served as seeds for more Christians. Nero saw Christians go to their deaths singing praises to their risen God. He saw their faces aglow with peace as they were overcome with torture. To Nero this was inhuman. He could not know that he was witness to the superhuman.
After Nero things quieted a bit, though every once in a while Rome would bestir herself in a few persecutions. But when the barbarians came toward the end of the second century, things began to fall apart. Philosopher-king and God-hater Marcus Aurelius (161-180) started anew Nero's machinery of death. The persecutions of Christians under the emperor Decius (249-41) surpassed those of Nero in numbers and in cruelty. Such an an intensity of state sponsored terror and slaughter were not seen again in Europe until the 20th century.
And again all was for nothing. For it was the Roman state herself that collapsed and not the Church of Chrestos. An emperor of Rome, Constantine the Great (306-337), made the faith immune to further persecutions. On his deathbed Constantine himself became a follower of the Risen God. In the words of Will Durant
Caesar and Christ had met in the arena, and the Carpenter had won.
So Christians, Be Not Afraid! Know that the most powerful, competent and ferocious government known to man was overcome by a Carpenter who chose to live among us. He has since overcome the entire world. And always remember though we live in the world, we are under His command not to be of it. For our world is not this one.
Tomorrow He rises to renew the face of the earth. Arise with Him.
(Hat tip: Amy Welborn)
April 11, 2006
Damn illegal immigrants! How dare they come into our land! They even refuse to speak our language! They reap all the benefits of living here but contribute nothing. Not only have they entered our nation illegally but while here they commit crimes and seize our land. Most have no intention of ever returning home. Some even want to separate from our nation and form a new country, a country with a different religion and language, with different laws and customs, from our own. And now they protest against the laws of the very nation in which they reside. We must do something now to stop these untold numbers of aliens crossing our borders. If not we face the likelihood of being overrun by illegal immigration.
Familiar rhetoric? Yes, but these words could have been spoken by Mexicans in the early 1830s. I was reminded of this by my student Christina Horn, all of 14 years young and a perceptive lass indeed.
Once Mexico got its independence from Spain in 1821 it was faced with a host of troubles. Political instability, violence, bankruptcy, underdevelopment, corruption---in fact, every problem that Mexico faces today has its roots in its own colonial and post-colonial history. Truly, there is nothing new under the Mexican sun.
A most pressing issue was border control. Most of northern Mexico was empty save for savages, a few scattered Catholic missions and the occasional Mexican settler. Then there was the United States to deal with. Fresh from victories in the War of 1812 and in Spanish Florida, she became besotted with Manifest Destiny. Americans believed that it was their God-given right to rule the continent from sea to shining sea. The only problem was that there were Indians and Mexicans in the way.
Andrew Jackson dealt with the Indians. But what of the Mexicans? What we now call our own Southwest and California was then Mexican territory. To believe in Manifest Destiny was to believe in the necessity of expansionary war to fulfill its goals. Such a war with Mexico became more and more likely during the 1820s.
All of this was certainly utmost in the Mexican mind. She thought the solution was to allow regulated immigration into the Mexican state of Coahuila y Tejas, much of which would become the US state of Texas. The government allowed Stephen Austin grants of land to settle several hundred 'Anglo' families. There were conditions: The American settlers had to become Catholic, learn Spanish, become Mexican citizens and not import slavery. The Americans came, and then more came, and still more. Few had any desire to become Catholic or Mexican citizens. Many brought slaves with them. Mexican law was ignored.
By the mid 1830s Mexico was faced with an invading host of illegal immigrants. Americans in Coahuila y Tejas outnumbered Mexicans 20,000 to 4,000. Settler Amos Parker noticed that
By the time Mexico belatedly decided to enforce her own laws it was too late. Simply put, there were too many Americans on Mexican soil, few of whom cared a damn for the Mexican government. The results of this have become part of American lore: The Alamo (1836), The Republic of Texas (1836-45) and the Mexican War (1846-48). Mexico lost one-half of her territory due to uncontrolled illegal immigration from the United States.
Mexico seethes with this memory and vows today to get her land back in the same way it was taken from her. That is the point, dear reader, of all those Mexican flags in Los Angeles, in Phoenix, in Dallas. Mexico claims these lands as hers, and indeed they once were. If you are blind to what is happening before your very eyes and before the laughing eyes of Mexico you are a perfect fool.
And all is made worse by those we elected to enforce the laws of our Republic. Behind closed doors, in the darkness of Senate chambers and against the will of the people they claim to serve, our very own Kennedys and McCains---indeed, Bush himself---work to undo by fiat what was gained by American arms and confirmed by History, to suddenly and magically make legal what was only yesterday illegal. Our own government has begun to abide by the dictates of the illegal Mexican mobs that have poured into the streets of America. If this be not treason and surrender then such words have ceased to have any meaning.
These lessons of History should not pass unnoticed. A great nation that cannot---will not---control her borders will cease to be a great nation. In fact, she will cease to be much of a nation at all.
April 9, 2006
This tidbit arrived a few days ago from San Francisco:
Undoubtedly spurred by such heroic words, San Francisco mayor Gavin Newsom
This is what rational beings have come to expect from this city that had recently passed
But wait. There is more:
It seems the village people who run Sodom by the bay have their knickers all astir. They refuse to enforce federal law, want to ban military recruiters from area high schools and believe that the US does not need a military.
Then there is this:
Is there a correlation among all of this? Well, yes, if one accepts the view of the world's monotheisms about the effects of homosexuality upon body, mind and soul. It is but a short step for a betrayer of nature and of God to become a betrayer of nation. This was known instinctively by Americans until the last few decades or so. No homosexual was allowed in the military, in the CIA or the State Department. Since the 1960s the general moral attitudes have become muddled. Things that were never even mentioned in polite society are today paraded about in public. Witness these San Francisco residents of undetermined gender demonstrating their patriotism and their unsuitability for the art of war.
Be thankful that our Republic does not have to depend for her survival on such creatures. Their loyalties extend no farther than the next male rectum they encounter.
April 7, 2006
Yesterday was the final installment of the year-long task of replacing every filling in my mouth. Dental insurance covered $6000 of the cost and I am paying the remaining $2000. A good deal all things considered.
It was some time ago that I realized that there was a problem---no, a series of problems---in my mouth. It was not gum disease (I am addicted to using dental floss) but the fact that so many of my teeth had these huge amalgam fillings.
It seems that these type of fillings have fallen from favor. They tend not to age well and begin to crack apart after twenty years or so. When they do it becomes painful to eat or drink anything that is not at room temperature. Having a cold beer after a week or two spent alone in the Peruvian Andes---my God-given right, thank you very much---was a painful event. Even consuming kung pao chicken became difficult. And kung pao is the food of the gods, right up there with aji de gallina and vanilla swirl ice cream. So eating my favorite Chinese food, washing it down with a cold Tsing Tao and then finishing off with ice cream---this had been a weekly routine for ten years in Buenos Aires---was denied me. Clearly, this condition could not be allowed to continue.
I made several forays into the world of Argentine dentistry to patch things up so that I could properly eat and drink. These were in reality travels back through time. If you ever want to know what American dentistry was like 40 years ago head to Argentina. It was not that the dental work was painful but that it was antiquated. I understood that the economic problems of that nation did not allow a doctor to buy millions of dollars---dollars, not pesos---worth of American dental equipment. Doing so was simply impossible. Dentists had to just muddle through as best they could. A picture of a dentist office in Buenos Aires could be easily smuggled into a Saturday Evening Post from the 1950s with no one the wiser.
And so during my 14 years spent in Latin America I got to know dentistry in Costa Rica, Peru, Argentina and Honduras. This last country deserves special mention. During my 'Year of Living Dangerously' a huge piece of ancient amalgam fell from a molar. What was left was a bunch of sharp, jagged points of a ruined tooth that made eating impossible. Just talking above a whisper forced a piece of the broken tooth into the skin in my mouth. I checked my Central American Handbook and found a recommended dentist and headed there.
It was through such improvisation that I could stay away from the US for 14 years.
But all in my mouth was ramshackle and make-do. After my return to America things began to fall apart. I had a good dental plan at my school and headed to a dentist. Entering his office was like stepping onto a Star Trek set. I had never seen such equipment before. The first exam was nothing like I had experienced. When it was done I was told the problems of my teeth, the recommended treatment plan, its cost and how long it would take. The dentist and his myriad assistants began that very day to reconstruct my entire mouth.
And now it is done. All the amalgam is gone, replaced by shiny ceramic. I can eat what I please without fear of cracking some ancient piece of mercury filling, a thing I had not been able to do for years. I was told that this remake of my mouth would last longer than whatever remained of my life. So I can rest content that wherever my end finds me and however I am interred, that when my bones are dug up by some future archeologist he will discover my bright and beautiful ceramic teeth. I hope he is suitably impressed.
April 1, 2006
And so our hallowed Congress deliberates new and improved rules concerning all those illegal Mexicans in our great nation. Solons from both parties are veritable bundles of energy saying this and promising that and vowing the other. Our fearless leader Bush went down old Mexico way to humble himself at the foot of Vicente the Great, king of Aztlan and lord of all things Hispanic, master of Mexico and Los Angeles. McCain---he of Arizona---and Kennedy---he of Kopechne---have actually produced a bill that claims to be all things to all people while leading Americans---even those temporarily illegal---to the Promised Land of controlled borders and a rational immigration policy.
It is well and good to remember that all that is being said and done today was said and done before. All the promises to 'protect America's borders' were promised before. The result of years promises and laws and programs has been---nothing. No, not true: The problem is almost immeasurably worse. There were fewer than 900,000 illegals in the US in 1986. Twenty years later there are at least 11,000,000. Some estimates put the total at 20,000,000.
And McCain and Kennedy claim that this time by God America is serious! No she is not. Not her leaders anyway. The bill as written does nothing but grant amnesty to all those teeming illegal hordes already inside our borders. The only good to come out of the latest promises will be to deny McCain any chance to become the Republican nominee for president. And I thank the Lord for such small miracles.
Both parties spout nonsense about immigration. Perhaps these sundry Democrats and Republicans actually believe the twaddle they peddle to the American people. If so they are fools. Perhaps these sundry Democrats and Republicans actually know that the twaddle they peddle is a mess of trickery. If so they are knaves. And there we have it, the leaders of our nation little more than fools and knaves.
And what of those who voted for them? You know, all those humble souls who participate in the running of this great Republic. Americans for a generation have consistently demanded that something be done about illegal immigration. And something was done---the problem became worse. The one and only thing that would stop hordes of barbarians from pouring over our southern border is a wall. Had it been built 20 years ago we would have a mere handful of illegals in the US. So why not build the thing?
Votes. Both parties crave the Hispanic vote for 2006 and 2008. By conspiring to serve millions of illegals they are simply ignoring the desires of the American people. We can go to Hell as far as Congress is concerned as it works to insure 100 percent job security---for itself. The rest of us can simply baa-a-a-a-a like sheep while our betters dissolve the fabric of our Republic and perform for Mexico what Monica performed for Bill.
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