Consider Isaiah 1:12. No, I won't paste it here. Look it up for yourself.
Do some 'people' watching this Sunday, and pick out the ones...in your opinion...who look as if they are performing some kind of drudgery or have that Sunday Morning Scowl. Try to pick out the ones who look as if they were dragged to the service by some unseen force and are dreaming more about the fishin' hole than they are about heaven.
It doesn't matter what kind of church you go to. They all have 'em. Now, this test doesn't apply to everybody. Some people have troubles that are weighing them down. Others might have had a temporary setback that has robbed them of their joy. No, the ones I'm talking about are those you see every Sunday, right on time, with a frown and an 'I don't want to be here but I had to come' attitude. These are like a vampire, sucking the life out of everyone else, if given the chance.
The Southern Baptist Church, as a whole, has lost its way. Most of the ones I've been to, the services are more like a funeral than what I like to call 'Heaven Practice'. God forbid anyone should shout 'Amen!', for fear of having the favored deacon's wife turn around and glare at you. The pedal organ should be put out to pasture. When those things are played by Mrs. Beatrice Blue Hair it makes me want to go ahead and crawl up into the casket. The pastors deliver their three points and a poem, making sure not to upset the finance committee or the chairman of deacons so their next paycheck won't be endangered, and then everyone leaves right on time for lunch and the NFL Today.
I chuckle to myself when I see how excited church members get for the MISSION TRIP TO POLAND. All these people line up and pay their dues and are all giggly and awash with anticipation about saving the Poles. Yet, and I'll bet my whole paycheck, you won't be able to get your church excited about a MISSION TRIP TO OUR OWN COMMUNITY. Yes, we're going to march out and cover the four square blocks surrounding our church. Oh, there will be a few, but that's not nearly as exciting and adventurous as POLAND!!! Look at the Great Commission again, and see where you're REALLY supposed to start your mission gig. Churches are dying in droves because they aren't willing to evangelize their own but will go thousands of miles away to evangelize others. It's shameful.
If this description is not your church, then shut up. I don't want to hear how great yours is. The fact is, I don't have to be there to know that it's probably not. The church, the true biblical church, is still out there, but it is on life support. Most of what you see today are 'Bible Churches'. If you see a sign for a church and it says it's a Bible Church, don't waste your time. Here you won't be challenged, you won't hear preaching and you'll be told how great you are how great things are and how everyone's okay. Please.
A lot of people go to church for different, but same, reasons. For many, it's habit. It's what you were made to do as a kid and you keep on doing it because you're supposed to. For others, it's fire insurance. For some, it's necessary to keep up the image they want to maintain in the community. Very very very few are there to become 'disciples' of Christ. The vast majority pay their tithes and/or offerings in the hope that someone else will become a disciple and they can lay claim to some of the rewards since they helped pay for it. Or, the tithes and offerings are paid to make sure the pastor is the disciple and does all the dirty work. That way, if he screws up, they can fire him and their hands remain clean. So they think.
If you go to church for any other reason than you WANT to be there, stay home. You'll do a lot more good for the mission of the church if you do that. God does not MAKE you go to church and, what's more, he doesn't even want you there if you don't want to be there. How do I know? Read Isaiah 1:12, if you can find it.
Sunday, July 28, 2013
Saturday, July 27, 2013
Desmond Tutu Chooses Hell
Desmond Tutu's fifteen minutes should be about up by now. He's had his parade, a lot of time in the limelight, been given his cake and eaten it too. It's time for him to quietly pass out of my sight.
He has lately come out and said he would choose hell rather than go to a homophobic heaven. Tutu went on to say that he would not be able to follow a homophobic God.
Well, in the first place, to say you're 'phobic' about something means you're afraid. I seriously doubt God is afraid of anything...especially us and more specifically those of us who are homosexual. I find it extremely hard to believe that someone who has advanced through the ranks of the Anglican church like he has, and supposedly being learned in the Bible, can make such a stupid statement.
There is a common misunderstanding in today's world about who and what God is. It is so common, in fact, that people are deciding they can argue...successfully...over spiritual and biblical things without having any knowledge one way or the other in either.
If you are a true believer in both the Christian God and scripture, you should be convinced there are absolutes. You know, without a doubt, there are no 'grey' areas. With all sincerity, your belief is that everything....everything...can eventually be reduced to right and wrong. Black and white. Good or bad. You also believe in the ultimate authority of scripture in your personal life. And you take the study of it and ingrain it into your belief system and try to formulate your day to day actions according to that written word.
The Bible is very...VERY...plain about homosexuality. It doesn't mince words, it doesn't talk about it in cryptic verse that's hard to understand, and it gives no quarter as to how God feels about it. It is referred to as an abomination in his sight...among other things...and carried with it a death sentence in the Old Testament. One cannot refute this in any way, shape or form. The true Christian must....must....believe the same or be in direct conflict with God. Now, that doesn't mean that if you disagree with this you are going to hell. There is only one reason a person goes to hell. That reason is to reject Christ as your personal savior. If you don't believe in hell...that's fine. But since hell is mentioned more times than heaven in the New Testament, it's easy to conclude that Jesus believed in it and so did the New Testament writers. Check out Luke 16.
The good thing about today, is that ever since Jesus died on the cross and rose from the dead, we have been living under the dispensation of God's grace. We are free to worship or not to worship. We are free to believe in whole or in part, or not to. We are free to live a life of debauchery or one of morality. And, since we are under this umbrella of grace, there are no punishments....right now....for outright rebellion against God. His judgment fell on Jesus at the cross, who bore all our sins for us. John's Revelation does tell us though, that there is a limit to God's patience and that his judgment will once again revert to the Old Testament variety, but on a much larger scale. Revelation tells us that if those judgments were not shortened, there will have been no flesh left alive.
I have known and worked with many homosexuals. I have nothing against them. I really don't. They are free to live any way they wish. This is God's gift to all of us. We have the 'will' to direct the course of our lives on our own, or with his guidance. It's up to us. I do not believe, and never have believed, that homosexuals should be arrested or beaten or even killed. They are human beings that Jesus died on the cross for. If they were good enough for him, they are good enough for me. But, the irrefutable fact of scripture is that they are living an abominable life in the eyes of God and he will not accept it. Can I say, without pause, that since they are homosexuals they are automatically hell bound? Of course not. That is the realm of God alone. However, scripture advises us you can have a good idea who is a child of God by the fruit they bear in life. If it is in direct opposition to him and his word, there could be a problem.
There are too many people today who believe that being a good person will be enough to get them through those pearly gates. Here, too, the Bible is very plain. It says there are none that do good, no, not one. It says that our righteousness is as filthy as menstrual rags. It says that if we fail the law in one point, then we are guilty of it all. I think we all fall into that category. This is why Jesus, the perfect sacrifice, had to die for us all. All we have to do is confess our sins, receive him as savior, and follow him. If someone goes to hell, it's like walking into the gas chamber with a full pardon in your back pocket. Yet, people are the same now as they were when they fell from grace in the garden of Eden. We are little 'gods' who think we know how to live our lives better than God can guide us. So, we go our own way and do our own thing until, like in the days of Judges, everyone is doing what is right in their own eyes. How is that working out for you?
So, for Desmond Tutu to come out and say that he would tell God 'No Thanks' about entering into heaven and would choose hell instead is a statement that leaves one to believe this man is on the precipice of apostasy....which is bad. Very bad. He has chosen the path of political and social correctness...as defined by the godless politicians and societies of today....instead of what he has professed to believe in all his life. That is gutless, cowardly, and unscriptural.
Hell was made for Satan and his demons. According to Jesus, it is a place of torment and that none should ever wish to go there. Unfortunately, he also says that broad is the way and wide is the gate that leads to destruction, and few there be that find it. If you wish to disbelieve, that is your God given right and I bid you success as you go on your way. If you wish to interpret the Bible according to your own agenda, I bid you the same.
The most frightening verse in the Bible, which I would suggest Tutu read again and again, is Matthew 7:21. It says, Not everyone who says to me, Lord, Lord, will enter into the kingdom of heaven, but he who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. It's not the sayers. It's the doers. Jesus goes on to say that people will protest before the throne and say, Lord, we have cast out demons and prophesied in your name. That's when the Father will say to them, Depart from me, you who work iniquity, for I never knew you. Think about it. Jesus is saying that there will be those who have worked in his name all their lives, yet will be cast into hell to their eternal shock. What does this mean for the rest of us who haven't even done that? To interpret portions of the Bible to fit your life scheme and is apart from what it is truly saying, is to be running pell mell through a minefield...blindfolded.
My belief is grounded in a lifetime of study and life experience. It cannot be swayed nor changed. If, in the end, I am found out to be wrong....I can say right now that it did me no harm and allowed me to live peacefully with those around me who did not believe nor live as I. If I'm right, I will be interested to see Tutu's answer when he faces the Almighty. I seriously doubt he will be as haughty as he has recently been. In fact, I doubt any of us will have much to say...at least that which could be seen as being argumentative before the one who made us. Choose hell instead of heaven? What true believer would ever say such a thing. It doesn't matter if this is right or not. What matters is that he is saying if God does not allow homosexuals into heaven...which none of us knows one way or the other, it is his realm of judgment....that he will consider his ways higher than God's and reject him. It boggles the mind of this true believer. Even in my darkest days, I would never make such a statement. God does not answer to us. We answer to him...whether you like it....or not.
He has lately come out and said he would choose hell rather than go to a homophobic heaven. Tutu went on to say that he would not be able to follow a homophobic God.
Well, in the first place, to say you're 'phobic' about something means you're afraid. I seriously doubt God is afraid of anything...especially us and more specifically those of us who are homosexual. I find it extremely hard to believe that someone who has advanced through the ranks of the Anglican church like he has, and supposedly being learned in the Bible, can make such a stupid statement.
There is a common misunderstanding in today's world about who and what God is. It is so common, in fact, that people are deciding they can argue...successfully...over spiritual and biblical things without having any knowledge one way or the other in either.
If you are a true believer in both the Christian God and scripture, you should be convinced there are absolutes. You know, without a doubt, there are no 'grey' areas. With all sincerity, your belief is that everything....everything...can eventually be reduced to right and wrong. Black and white. Good or bad. You also believe in the ultimate authority of scripture in your personal life. And you take the study of it and ingrain it into your belief system and try to formulate your day to day actions according to that written word.
The Bible is very...VERY...plain about homosexuality. It doesn't mince words, it doesn't talk about it in cryptic verse that's hard to understand, and it gives no quarter as to how God feels about it. It is referred to as an abomination in his sight...among other things...and carried with it a death sentence in the Old Testament. One cannot refute this in any way, shape or form. The true Christian must....must....believe the same or be in direct conflict with God. Now, that doesn't mean that if you disagree with this you are going to hell. There is only one reason a person goes to hell. That reason is to reject Christ as your personal savior. If you don't believe in hell...that's fine. But since hell is mentioned more times than heaven in the New Testament, it's easy to conclude that Jesus believed in it and so did the New Testament writers. Check out Luke 16.
The good thing about today, is that ever since Jesus died on the cross and rose from the dead, we have been living under the dispensation of God's grace. We are free to worship or not to worship. We are free to believe in whole or in part, or not to. We are free to live a life of debauchery or one of morality. And, since we are under this umbrella of grace, there are no punishments....right now....for outright rebellion against God. His judgment fell on Jesus at the cross, who bore all our sins for us. John's Revelation does tell us though, that there is a limit to God's patience and that his judgment will once again revert to the Old Testament variety, but on a much larger scale. Revelation tells us that if those judgments were not shortened, there will have been no flesh left alive.
I have known and worked with many homosexuals. I have nothing against them. I really don't. They are free to live any way they wish. This is God's gift to all of us. We have the 'will' to direct the course of our lives on our own, or with his guidance. It's up to us. I do not believe, and never have believed, that homosexuals should be arrested or beaten or even killed. They are human beings that Jesus died on the cross for. If they were good enough for him, they are good enough for me. But, the irrefutable fact of scripture is that they are living an abominable life in the eyes of God and he will not accept it. Can I say, without pause, that since they are homosexuals they are automatically hell bound? Of course not. That is the realm of God alone. However, scripture advises us you can have a good idea who is a child of God by the fruit they bear in life. If it is in direct opposition to him and his word, there could be a problem.
There are too many people today who believe that being a good person will be enough to get them through those pearly gates. Here, too, the Bible is very plain. It says there are none that do good, no, not one. It says that our righteousness is as filthy as menstrual rags. It says that if we fail the law in one point, then we are guilty of it all. I think we all fall into that category. This is why Jesus, the perfect sacrifice, had to die for us all. All we have to do is confess our sins, receive him as savior, and follow him. If someone goes to hell, it's like walking into the gas chamber with a full pardon in your back pocket. Yet, people are the same now as they were when they fell from grace in the garden of Eden. We are little 'gods' who think we know how to live our lives better than God can guide us. So, we go our own way and do our own thing until, like in the days of Judges, everyone is doing what is right in their own eyes. How is that working out for you?
So, for Desmond Tutu to come out and say that he would tell God 'No Thanks' about entering into heaven and would choose hell instead is a statement that leaves one to believe this man is on the precipice of apostasy....which is bad. Very bad. He has chosen the path of political and social correctness...as defined by the godless politicians and societies of today....instead of what he has professed to believe in all his life. That is gutless, cowardly, and unscriptural.
Hell was made for Satan and his demons. According to Jesus, it is a place of torment and that none should ever wish to go there. Unfortunately, he also says that broad is the way and wide is the gate that leads to destruction, and few there be that find it. If you wish to disbelieve, that is your God given right and I bid you success as you go on your way. If you wish to interpret the Bible according to your own agenda, I bid you the same.
The most frightening verse in the Bible, which I would suggest Tutu read again and again, is Matthew 7:21. It says, Not everyone who says to me, Lord, Lord, will enter into the kingdom of heaven, but he who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. It's not the sayers. It's the doers. Jesus goes on to say that people will protest before the throne and say, Lord, we have cast out demons and prophesied in your name. That's when the Father will say to them, Depart from me, you who work iniquity, for I never knew you. Think about it. Jesus is saying that there will be those who have worked in his name all their lives, yet will be cast into hell to their eternal shock. What does this mean for the rest of us who haven't even done that? To interpret portions of the Bible to fit your life scheme and is apart from what it is truly saying, is to be running pell mell through a minefield...blindfolded.
My belief is grounded in a lifetime of study and life experience. It cannot be swayed nor changed. If, in the end, I am found out to be wrong....I can say right now that it did me no harm and allowed me to live peacefully with those around me who did not believe nor live as I. If I'm right, I will be interested to see Tutu's answer when he faces the Almighty. I seriously doubt he will be as haughty as he has recently been. In fact, I doubt any of us will have much to say...at least that which could be seen as being argumentative before the one who made us. Choose hell instead of heaven? What true believer would ever say such a thing. It doesn't matter if this is right or not. What matters is that he is saying if God does not allow homosexuals into heaven...which none of us knows one way or the other, it is his realm of judgment....that he will consider his ways higher than God's and reject him. It boggles the mind of this true believer. Even in my darkest days, I would never make such a statement. God does not answer to us. We answer to him...whether you like it....or not.
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Ever Wonder How Much They Make?
Strippers, that is. Or, in the more politically correct term, exotic dancers. They make a LOT of money and don't even have to have sex with strangers to get it. I've known three guys who have dated strippers and they all have told me they're psycho. No wonder, I thought, you would have to be to do that kind of schtick.
When I worked for an offshore construction company, there was this young engineer who put out an ad in the paper for someone to come in and room with him, sharing expenses. Half rent, half utilities, half garbage pick-up...the works. He told us that a stripper answered the ad and he was none too slow about accepting her as his room mate. To hear him tell us, she was drop dead gorgeous. After about a week, we were too quick to want to hear the juicy details of what it was like to live with a stripper. We were severely disappointed one day when we cornered him in the vending machine area.
"I never see her," he said with a frown. "When I come home from work, she's already gone. When I get up in the morning, her bedroom door is shut and there's a pile of money on the table."
We asked him how much?
"I don't know," he said with a look of disgust at us. "I don't count it. But there's fifties and hundreds and twenties and tens....all kinds of cash. It's piled up about a foot high. When I get home from work, she's gone and the money's gone." He said, "But every month she leaves a check on the table to cover her part. It's like clockwork."
Of course, this doesn't tell us how much she was actually making, but it seems like she was doing all right. The one thing my young engineer friend forgot to mention is all that cash was as tax free as she wanted it to be. Quite a business to be in...eh?
Then, I finally found out today how much they can possibly make. This one woman started stripping at age 18. Fifteen years later, at age 33...she retired from the dancing and wanted to buy her own men's club. So, with a couple of friends chipping in, she bundled her life's savings in ten-thousand dollar stacks and put it in plastic 'bags' and stuffed it in the trunk of their car. Their destination was New Jersey, where they were going to buy their own strip club. Once in the State, they get pulled over by a New Jersey State Trooper for speeding. He asks if he can search the car and they obliged. Well, upon opening the trunk, he sees all this money. Naturally, the way it's packaged, he thinks it's drug money. So, they bring in a pooch and he signals there is drugs on the money. The women are arrested and the cash confiscated. Tests on the money showed negligible drug residue....just like it would on yours and mine. All money has drug residue on it. All of it. If you don't believe me, check it out. Anyway, they have no real evidence to charge them with anything but speeding and let them go. But, only them. The money stayed. This ex-stripper wannabe strip club owner can't get to her fifteen years of hard work and has to go to court to get it back. Now, she was arrested in March, 2012. Only now has a judge ruled, more than a year later, that the woman's story is believable and there was no evidence to suggest she was involved in drug trafficking or money laundering. He ordered the State of New Jersey to either write her a check or deliver her savings in cash....with interest.
The amount? $ 1,074,000.00. That's one million, seventy four thousand dollars....saved....in 15 years. And I was glad....quite happy in fact....just yesterday...at having been born a man.
When I worked for an offshore construction company, there was this young engineer who put out an ad in the paper for someone to come in and room with him, sharing expenses. Half rent, half utilities, half garbage pick-up...the works. He told us that a stripper answered the ad and he was none too slow about accepting her as his room mate. To hear him tell us, she was drop dead gorgeous. After about a week, we were too quick to want to hear the juicy details of what it was like to live with a stripper. We were severely disappointed one day when we cornered him in the vending machine area.
"I never see her," he said with a frown. "When I come home from work, she's already gone. When I get up in the morning, her bedroom door is shut and there's a pile of money on the table."
We asked him how much?
"I don't know," he said with a look of disgust at us. "I don't count it. But there's fifties and hundreds and twenties and tens....all kinds of cash. It's piled up about a foot high. When I get home from work, she's gone and the money's gone." He said, "But every month she leaves a check on the table to cover her part. It's like clockwork."
Of course, this doesn't tell us how much she was actually making, but it seems like she was doing all right. The one thing my young engineer friend forgot to mention is all that cash was as tax free as she wanted it to be. Quite a business to be in...eh?
Then, I finally found out today how much they can possibly make. This one woman started stripping at age 18. Fifteen years later, at age 33...she retired from the dancing and wanted to buy her own men's club. So, with a couple of friends chipping in, she bundled her life's savings in ten-thousand dollar stacks and put it in plastic 'bags' and stuffed it in the trunk of their car. Their destination was New Jersey, where they were going to buy their own strip club. Once in the State, they get pulled over by a New Jersey State Trooper for speeding. He asks if he can search the car and they obliged. Well, upon opening the trunk, he sees all this money. Naturally, the way it's packaged, he thinks it's drug money. So, they bring in a pooch and he signals there is drugs on the money. The women are arrested and the cash confiscated. Tests on the money showed negligible drug residue....just like it would on yours and mine. All money has drug residue on it. All of it. If you don't believe me, check it out. Anyway, they have no real evidence to charge them with anything but speeding and let them go. But, only them. The money stayed. This ex-stripper wannabe strip club owner can't get to her fifteen years of hard work and has to go to court to get it back. Now, she was arrested in March, 2012. Only now has a judge ruled, more than a year later, that the woman's story is believable and there was no evidence to suggest she was involved in drug trafficking or money laundering. He ordered the State of New Jersey to either write her a check or deliver her savings in cash....with interest.
The amount? $ 1,074,000.00. That's one million, seventy four thousand dollars....saved....in 15 years. And I was glad....quite happy in fact....just yesterday...at having been born a man.
Sunday, July 21, 2013
The Movies
I rarely go to the theatre anymore. It's expensive and then you have people like me who forget to turn their cell phones off...even though they remind us time and time again to do so. But, in the last few weeks I've gone to the movies twice. It was expensive and I only forgot to turn my phone off once. Hey, 50% for me is pretty good.
Went to see The Heat first, with Sandra Bullock and Melissa McCarthy. It was a good, funny, tongue-in-cheek movie that wasn't made to be a blockbuster Oscar wannabe. It was a 'fun' movie and I enjoyed it. Friday night I went to see Red 2. All the critics were saying it was as good as the original, if not better. While the movie had its moments, I did not think it was as good as the first one. There were too many slow moments in the film and the action wasn't as well contrived as in the original...in my opinion.
The critics panned The Heat for being what it was. One said it wasn't believable. My question there is...what movie is? Especially these days. Is The Wolverine believable? X-Men...Star Trek....Iron Man??? Please. Yes, I'm fully expecting our world to be invaded by Transformers or Hosts.
I usually find myself diametrically opposed to the movie critics. They didn't like The Heat and I did. They fell in love with Red 2 and I went, 'Meh.' Also, trailers are not a good indicator of whether a movie is going to be enjoyable or not. Take Red 2 for example. It should be the poster child for why we don't trust movie trailers. All the good stuff was in the trailer. Once you saw that, there wasn't much else to see. Friends aren't trustworthy either. "OHHHHHH, you HAVE to see this movie! It's so great!" So, you go because if you can't trust your friends, who can you trust? Right? Afterwards, as you are walking out of the theatre, you wonder if they were ever your friend to begin with after assassinating two hours or more of your life with a mundane film. Or, worse...you begin to wonder if they should be allowed in your house again...the worry being their mental stability for having thought it was a good movie.
Last night I watched a movie, on demand, that several 'friends' told me was a great movie. It was made a few years back and starred John Travolta and Nicolas Cage. The movie is titled 'Faceoff'. The premise was far fetched, the story line was weird, the movie was too long and I've never seen sooo many bad shots as they portrayed we have in the FBI. In short, it was stupid. Then, on a whim, I watched The Island. This movie was about an underground labyrinth where rich people paid to have clones farmed from their DNA so if they needed a spare part or two they were ready made. The clones, who have no idea they are clones, work keeping new clones in development, but not really knowing what their job entails. They are all excited about the 'lottery', because if you win you get to go to the island and enjoy a life of leisure. Actually, they weren't taken to an island, but to a death table to have their organs harvested. A couple of clones escape and find their 'source', eventually going back and helping their fellow clones escape. Cheesy, long, in places boring, and again we have a lot of bad shots.
I long for the days we had with John Wayne, Yul Brynner, Steve McQueen, and Clint Eastwood (in his heyday). When these guys pulled a trigger, somebody was goin' down! Even with Eastwood aging, Gran Torino was a fantastic movie. John Wayne in Big Jake was solid. Steve McQueen's Bullitt was one of the most classic detective movies ever made with one of the best car chase scenes ever filmed. Yul Brynner in The King and I was one of the best he ever made. Where are the epics like Cleopatra, The Ten Commandments and Gone With the Wind? Alas, they are no more. It's all about special effects and computer generated people/monsters/things/aliens/etc.
Yet, we like movies. For a small while we can escape our humdrum lives and enter a world of farce and fantasy and make-believe on the big screen or in the comfort of our homes. Each time you sit and watch the opening of a movie, it's like rolling the dice. Sometimes they come up seven, and sometimes you crap out. It's just there seems to be a lot more crapping out than winning on the come out these days. Can't wait to see Battlefield Earth again. Not.
Went to see The Heat first, with Sandra Bullock and Melissa McCarthy. It was a good, funny, tongue-in-cheek movie that wasn't made to be a blockbuster Oscar wannabe. It was a 'fun' movie and I enjoyed it. Friday night I went to see Red 2. All the critics were saying it was as good as the original, if not better. While the movie had its moments, I did not think it was as good as the first one. There were too many slow moments in the film and the action wasn't as well contrived as in the original...in my opinion.
The critics panned The Heat for being what it was. One said it wasn't believable. My question there is...what movie is? Especially these days. Is The Wolverine believable? X-Men...Star Trek....Iron Man??? Please. Yes, I'm fully expecting our world to be invaded by Transformers or Hosts.
I usually find myself diametrically opposed to the movie critics. They didn't like The Heat and I did. They fell in love with Red 2 and I went, 'Meh.' Also, trailers are not a good indicator of whether a movie is going to be enjoyable or not. Take Red 2 for example. It should be the poster child for why we don't trust movie trailers. All the good stuff was in the trailer. Once you saw that, there wasn't much else to see. Friends aren't trustworthy either. "OHHHHHH, you HAVE to see this movie! It's so great!" So, you go because if you can't trust your friends, who can you trust? Right? Afterwards, as you are walking out of the theatre, you wonder if they were ever your friend to begin with after assassinating two hours or more of your life with a mundane film. Or, worse...you begin to wonder if they should be allowed in your house again...the worry being their mental stability for having thought it was a good movie.
Last night I watched a movie, on demand, that several 'friends' told me was a great movie. It was made a few years back and starred John Travolta and Nicolas Cage. The movie is titled 'Faceoff'. The premise was far fetched, the story line was weird, the movie was too long and I've never seen sooo many bad shots as they portrayed we have in the FBI. In short, it was stupid. Then, on a whim, I watched The Island. This movie was about an underground labyrinth where rich people paid to have clones farmed from their DNA so if they needed a spare part or two they were ready made. The clones, who have no idea they are clones, work keeping new clones in development, but not really knowing what their job entails. They are all excited about the 'lottery', because if you win you get to go to the island and enjoy a life of leisure. Actually, they weren't taken to an island, but to a death table to have their organs harvested. A couple of clones escape and find their 'source', eventually going back and helping their fellow clones escape. Cheesy, long, in places boring, and again we have a lot of bad shots.
I long for the days we had with John Wayne, Yul Brynner, Steve McQueen, and Clint Eastwood (in his heyday). When these guys pulled a trigger, somebody was goin' down! Even with Eastwood aging, Gran Torino was a fantastic movie. John Wayne in Big Jake was solid. Steve McQueen's Bullitt was one of the most classic detective movies ever made with one of the best car chase scenes ever filmed. Yul Brynner in The King and I was one of the best he ever made. Where are the epics like Cleopatra, The Ten Commandments and Gone With the Wind? Alas, they are no more. It's all about special effects and computer generated people/monsters/things/aliens/etc.
Yet, we like movies. For a small while we can escape our humdrum lives and enter a world of farce and fantasy and make-believe on the big screen or in the comfort of our homes. Each time you sit and watch the opening of a movie, it's like rolling the dice. Sometimes they come up seven, and sometimes you crap out. It's just there seems to be a lot more crapping out than winning on the come out these days. Can't wait to see Battlefield Earth again. Not.
Saturday, July 20, 2013
It's Good to be Right
I hate being wrong about something. I guess it's because it happens so seldom. Whenever we, along with some help from our NATO allies, went into Afghanistan to help liberate the people there from the dreaded Taliban, I was all for it. I thought to myself, "Self, this is a great and glorious campaign that will drive out the enemies of all things decent and make right all the wrongs that exist in that country and elevate it to democratic representation for all....lifting that country up as a beacon of freedom, justice and equality." (Not really)
The U.S. has perfected the art of winning the 'hearts and minds' of the people in countries where we send our military. It worked perfectly in Vietnam, Kuwait, Iraq and others that are too many to list. The tried and true method of throwing billions and billions of dollars at foreign policy problems has worked every time. Sending our warriors in to be policemen...though they are trained to kill, destroy and conquer....is a great testament to our benevolence.
The Afghan women were treated terribly by the Taliban, but we have opened up schools for girls and clinics for pregnant women (Afghanistan is in the top five for the worst infant mortality rate in the world), and led them out of the dark ages so the men of the country can see the good and decent aspects of our culture into theirs....which has been chiseled in stone over the last 1500 years.
Now that our job is complete, and we can glad-hand and back-slap each other for the success of our efforts, the soldiers are gearing down to come home with a hearty MISSION ACCOMPLISHED to greet them when they return.
Yes, the Afghans are so grateful for our 10 year plus sacrifice of the blood of our men and women, that one of the mullahs passed an edict the other day that Karzai's government will not rescind. That being, no female may leave their home to do....anything...without a male relative to accompany her. The burqua is making a comeback as the style of choice of all women there. The schools are being shut down and women's fingers are being cut off if they have nail varnish on. If they go to the doctor, a male relative must be present at the examination to hear every...word...she...says. One of the 'holy' men has even said that if the government tries to interfere with the fatwah, then there will be JIHAD!!!!!
I don't know about you, but I just don't get it. (tongue in cheek) Instead of poppies, we taught them to grow wheat...which brings in one penny for every dollar they can make off heroin and opium. We taught them how to build a better infrastructure to help their people....which is totally unimportant to them. We trained their newly found military to fight against extremists...even though they live in one of the most 'extreme' countries in the world and will not truly fight against their brothers in the faith. We sacrificed many of our sons and daughters to bring medicine, food, electricity, clean water, and political stability...which also is totally unimportant to them. In short....we failed to achieve the impossible, and we should have known going in it was impossible.
Have you looked at the history of Afghanistan? History can be a very important tool for those who wish to play Geo-political / warfare chess. Afghanistan was completely Islamicized in the 11th century and has undergone war after war after war. When Genghis Khan and his Mongol horde came through, they destroyed everything and forced the once great populace into being an agrarian society. They do not want education. They do not want medicine. They do not want an infrastructure. And, they definitely don't want infidels of any type inside their border for any reason. They are slaves to their religion and to their culture and to their present lot in life and they always will be.
The actual game plan for us should have been the following: Since they were already living in the stone age, we couldn't necessarily blow them 'back' to it. But, we could have blown them back to the time when we crawled out of the primordial sludge. We should have used Bill Clinton's strategy in Bosnia, which was to bomb them and bomb them and bomb them until they finally said, "Enough, please. Here is Osama's head. What else can we do for you?" This seemed to work in Germany during World War II. Once they had no cities, no food, no water and no medicine...they said 'uncle'.
Instead, we are now leaving and they are now reverting to what they were and what they have always been since at least the 11th century. Backward, uneducated, warlike, heroin growing, misogynistic cretins who deserve neither our money or our blood or our benevolence. When the Soviet Union invaded and began their brutal eight year occupation we helped them with Stinger missiles and other military hardware and they were able to drive them out. How did they repay us? By giving shelter to Osama Bin Laden and allowing him to plan the devastating attack on 9/11.
Our message now, as we begin to leave should be this. If you make us come back, we won't hurt you like before. We're going to hurt you bad. Really bad. And we won't help you re-build next time. We'll leave you to eat the dust and rocks and debris we leave behind. History is a great teacher. However....we never seem to learn from it. Do we?
The U.S. has perfected the art of winning the 'hearts and minds' of the people in countries where we send our military. It worked perfectly in Vietnam, Kuwait, Iraq and others that are too many to list. The tried and true method of throwing billions and billions of dollars at foreign policy problems has worked every time. Sending our warriors in to be policemen...though they are trained to kill, destroy and conquer....is a great testament to our benevolence.
The Afghan women were treated terribly by the Taliban, but we have opened up schools for girls and clinics for pregnant women (Afghanistan is in the top five for the worst infant mortality rate in the world), and led them out of the dark ages so the men of the country can see the good and decent aspects of our culture into theirs....which has been chiseled in stone over the last 1500 years.
Now that our job is complete, and we can glad-hand and back-slap each other for the success of our efforts, the soldiers are gearing down to come home with a hearty MISSION ACCOMPLISHED to greet them when they return.
Yes, the Afghans are so grateful for our 10 year plus sacrifice of the blood of our men and women, that one of the mullahs passed an edict the other day that Karzai's government will not rescind. That being, no female may leave their home to do....anything...without a male relative to accompany her. The burqua is making a comeback as the style of choice of all women there. The schools are being shut down and women's fingers are being cut off if they have nail varnish on. If they go to the doctor, a male relative must be present at the examination to hear every...word...she...says. One of the 'holy' men has even said that if the government tries to interfere with the fatwah, then there will be JIHAD!!!!!
I don't know about you, but I just don't get it. (tongue in cheek) Instead of poppies, we taught them to grow wheat...which brings in one penny for every dollar they can make off heroin and opium. We taught them how to build a better infrastructure to help their people....which is totally unimportant to them. We trained their newly found military to fight against extremists...even though they live in one of the most 'extreme' countries in the world and will not truly fight against their brothers in the faith. We sacrificed many of our sons and daughters to bring medicine, food, electricity, clean water, and political stability...which also is totally unimportant to them. In short....we failed to achieve the impossible, and we should have known going in it was impossible.
Have you looked at the history of Afghanistan? History can be a very important tool for those who wish to play Geo-political / warfare chess. Afghanistan was completely Islamicized in the 11th century and has undergone war after war after war. When Genghis Khan and his Mongol horde came through, they destroyed everything and forced the once great populace into being an agrarian society. They do not want education. They do not want medicine. They do not want an infrastructure. And, they definitely don't want infidels of any type inside their border for any reason. They are slaves to their religion and to their culture and to their present lot in life and they always will be.
The actual game plan for us should have been the following: Since they were already living in the stone age, we couldn't necessarily blow them 'back' to it. But, we could have blown them back to the time when we crawled out of the primordial sludge. We should have used Bill Clinton's strategy in Bosnia, which was to bomb them and bomb them and bomb them until they finally said, "Enough, please. Here is Osama's head. What else can we do for you?" This seemed to work in Germany during World War II. Once they had no cities, no food, no water and no medicine...they said 'uncle'.
Instead, we are now leaving and they are now reverting to what they were and what they have always been since at least the 11th century. Backward, uneducated, warlike, heroin growing, misogynistic cretins who deserve neither our money or our blood or our benevolence. When the Soviet Union invaded and began their brutal eight year occupation we helped them with Stinger missiles and other military hardware and they were able to drive them out. How did they repay us? By giving shelter to Osama Bin Laden and allowing him to plan the devastating attack on 9/11.
Our message now, as we begin to leave should be this. If you make us come back, we won't hurt you like before. We're going to hurt you bad. Really bad. And we won't help you re-build next time. We'll leave you to eat the dust and rocks and debris we leave behind. History is a great teacher. However....we never seem to learn from it. Do we?
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
Ever Have What You Thought Was a Good Idea?
In 1993, we were living in Humble, Texas. I know. Strange that a person with MY ego would be living in a town named after humility. Anyway, I had been carving on a piece of wood, trying to cut it into the shape of a cross. This process had been going on for a couple of weeks, and it was really starting to take shape. Needing to do some finer work, I opted for the box cutter. It had a very sharp point, a very sharp blade, and could get into those little cross corners better than anything else I had.
My wife was busy bathing our youngest, who was only two at the time. Lulu was in her room watching television. Me? I was in the living room with my box cutter and my new masterpiece. Soon I would be breaking into the world of sculptors and live in Greece and treated like a rock star. Well, yeah....I was dreaming. And that's when it happened. The box cutter slipped and ran down the outside of my right, index finger. It raced from the second knuckle down to almost the tip. The massive amount of blood that followed the mishap informed me that something might have gone terribly wrong. I was very proud of myself in that I didn't say #@&*#@. And, I didn't say *&$%#. No, I actually said, "Jesus!". Now, it wasn't in vain that I said that. I was really calling on him because I had just committed unintentional hari kari.
Running to the kitchen, I put the mortally wounded finger under running water, only to see the most perfect slice ever cut into human flesh flay open from the faucet's water pressure. I suddenly grew ill....and quite faint. With my healthy hand, I grabbed a dishtowel and wrapped it around my finger and hand. My wife was soon informed that I was bleeding to death and she responded by telling me to go to the emergency room. It would have taken her thirty minutes to get the kids ready so I drove myself.
Emergency Rooms are not pleasant places to visit. In fact, never have I ever looked at someone and said, "Hey! Let's go down to the emergency room and see what's going on." They just aren't places you get a hankerin' to go to. The one good thing about needing a doctor at an emergency room, is that if you're bleeding....you get priority. They whisked me to the triage nurse and I took a seat. She asked me to remove the towel so she could have a look. I did as instructed and she observed the wound. Looking back at me, I swear she had a smirk on her face, she said, "Oh my. Did we try to cut off our finger tonight?" I said, "No. we haven't done anything. I did this all by myself." The next thing I know I'm taken to a curtained 'room' and soon a middle aged female doctor came in and deadened the affected area. I don't know what it was, but when she started pushing the plunger on the syringe it felt like fresh cooked lava was being injected into my system. She left for about five minutes and returned with the suture kit. It took six stitches to close the wound....and $300. We didn't have insurance so it came straight out of my pocket into the hospital's hand. After getting it bandaged up, she said to come back in two weeks and she would remove the stitches. I thought to myself, "Not at $50 a stitch you ain't."
You see, there comes a time when a man has to stand up for what's right. He has to rise up on his hind legs and say, "Enough!" I know I couldn't have put those stitches in. But it couldn't be too difficult to take them out when the time came. So, two weeks go by and I walk into the bathroom in preparation for surgery. Being the good doctor, I scrub up....just like I saw 'em do on M*A*S*H. I then put on the latex glove...on the good hand. I'm not THAT stupid. Retrieving a bottle of rubbing alcohol, I drench the stitched finger in the liquid. Then, I pour some in a small cup and dip and stir the scissors in it. After that, I cut the six stitches with ease. So far, everything is going splendidly well. I placed the scissors on the counter and picked up the tweezers. I took hold of one of the cut ends of the first stitch with the tweezers and......
This is where I made my fatal mistake. I pulled the stitch with the tweezers, through the flesh of my finger and out the other side....without waiting for the alcohol to dry. Now, the alcohol soaked stitch has left behind the fiery residue and it immediately started doing its wicked work. Since it was in a tiny tiny hole in my finger, blowing on it did no good. And, since it was in a tiny tiny hole in my finger, running water over it did no good. The alcohol inside that little hole was eating my soul with an all consuming fire. By the time it finished with its torture....I was beginning to think $300 was worth not going through the agony I had just experienced. Again, not being totally stupid, I wait to make sure the rest of the alcohol on the other stitches has had time to evaporate before extracting them. I can tell you with all honesty the other five were a piece of cake. My wife asked me why I did that. My only reply was that it seemed like a good idea at the time.
My wife was busy bathing our youngest, who was only two at the time. Lulu was in her room watching television. Me? I was in the living room with my box cutter and my new masterpiece. Soon I would be breaking into the world of sculptors and live in Greece and treated like a rock star. Well, yeah....I was dreaming. And that's when it happened. The box cutter slipped and ran down the outside of my right, index finger. It raced from the second knuckle down to almost the tip. The massive amount of blood that followed the mishap informed me that something might have gone terribly wrong. I was very proud of myself in that I didn't say #@&*#@. And, I didn't say *&$%#. No, I actually said, "Jesus!". Now, it wasn't in vain that I said that. I was really calling on him because I had just committed unintentional hari kari.
Running to the kitchen, I put the mortally wounded finger under running water, only to see the most perfect slice ever cut into human flesh flay open from the faucet's water pressure. I suddenly grew ill....and quite faint. With my healthy hand, I grabbed a dishtowel and wrapped it around my finger and hand. My wife was soon informed that I was bleeding to death and she responded by telling me to go to the emergency room. It would have taken her thirty minutes to get the kids ready so I drove myself.
Emergency Rooms are not pleasant places to visit. In fact, never have I ever looked at someone and said, "Hey! Let's go down to the emergency room and see what's going on." They just aren't places you get a hankerin' to go to. The one good thing about needing a doctor at an emergency room, is that if you're bleeding....you get priority. They whisked me to the triage nurse and I took a seat. She asked me to remove the towel so she could have a look. I did as instructed and she observed the wound. Looking back at me, I swear she had a smirk on her face, she said, "Oh my. Did we try to cut off our finger tonight?" I said, "No. we haven't done anything. I did this all by myself." The next thing I know I'm taken to a curtained 'room' and soon a middle aged female doctor came in and deadened the affected area. I don't know what it was, but when she started pushing the plunger on the syringe it felt like fresh cooked lava was being injected into my system. She left for about five minutes and returned with the suture kit. It took six stitches to close the wound....and $300. We didn't have insurance so it came straight out of my pocket into the hospital's hand. After getting it bandaged up, she said to come back in two weeks and she would remove the stitches. I thought to myself, "Not at $50 a stitch you ain't."
You see, there comes a time when a man has to stand up for what's right. He has to rise up on his hind legs and say, "Enough!" I know I couldn't have put those stitches in. But it couldn't be too difficult to take them out when the time came. So, two weeks go by and I walk into the bathroom in preparation for surgery. Being the good doctor, I scrub up....just like I saw 'em do on M*A*S*H. I then put on the latex glove...on the good hand. I'm not THAT stupid. Retrieving a bottle of rubbing alcohol, I drench the stitched finger in the liquid. Then, I pour some in a small cup and dip and stir the scissors in it. After that, I cut the six stitches with ease. So far, everything is going splendidly well. I placed the scissors on the counter and picked up the tweezers. I took hold of one of the cut ends of the first stitch with the tweezers and......
This is where I made my fatal mistake. I pulled the stitch with the tweezers, through the flesh of my finger and out the other side....without waiting for the alcohol to dry. Now, the alcohol soaked stitch has left behind the fiery residue and it immediately started doing its wicked work. Since it was in a tiny tiny hole in my finger, blowing on it did no good. And, since it was in a tiny tiny hole in my finger, running water over it did no good. The alcohol inside that little hole was eating my soul with an all consuming fire. By the time it finished with its torture....I was beginning to think $300 was worth not going through the agony I had just experienced. Again, not being totally stupid, I wait to make sure the rest of the alcohol on the other stitches has had time to evaporate before extracting them. I can tell you with all honesty the other five were a piece of cake. My wife asked me why I did that. My only reply was that it seemed like a good idea at the time.
Sunday, July 7, 2013
Roadside Memorial Baptist Church
Just outside of Saratoga, Texas is Roadside Memorial Baptist Church. Presently, the church sits on the south side of the highway, but it used to be on the north side. When it was in its former spot, it was what we called a one-room church house. Now, it actually had three rooms. Two were in the back and off to each side. They weren't big enough to seat more than six or seven people, and if memory serves, there weren't even that many chairs in them. If you wanted to go to the bathroom, you had to go outside, walk to the back and enter the outhouse to do your business. There was no running water.
Back in the day, the pastor was Alfred Marcontel. Alfred was a hard working man who loved God, family and life....in that order....more than most of the men I've met. He was a godly man and had a raspy voice from all those years of 'hollerin' from behind the pulpit. I haven't yet met a Marcontel that couldn't sing, though. Even if you couldn't sing not being a Marcontel, by some strange occurrence if you happened to marry into the family, voila! You could sing. It's a miracle.
Without going into details, Alfred showed me a great kindness one day that endeared me to him forever. He had a heart of gold and temper to match, but you rarely saw that side of him. My parents were so grateful to him for helping me, they began to pour their tithes and offerings into that little church. Now, I know a whole lot of other people gave of their means, but if it hadn't been for mom and dad they wouldn't have been able to build the new church building as quickly as they did.
I was married in that little one-room church house, by Alfred. It held a lot of good memories for me. It's been gone a long time, now. But the newer building is still there and from what I hear they still hold services there.
Alfred has also been gone a little while, but what he did for me will not be forgotten. I had a chance to go see him shortly before he died. It was a good visit, and I'll treasure it forever.
There are places in our past that hold significant value to us, as well as places that don't. It's best we forget the latter, and hold firm to the former. Even though Roadside had a short existence in my life, it still has a special place in my heart. The singing was great, the fellowship was awesome, and the preachin' weren't that bad. All in all, I guess I have to say it was what a church ought to be. It was a family. And it just don't get no better than that. (Bad word usage written on purpose. It's how I really talk.)
Back in the day, the pastor was Alfred Marcontel. Alfred was a hard working man who loved God, family and life....in that order....more than most of the men I've met. He was a godly man and had a raspy voice from all those years of 'hollerin' from behind the pulpit. I haven't yet met a Marcontel that couldn't sing, though. Even if you couldn't sing not being a Marcontel, by some strange occurrence if you happened to marry into the family, voila! You could sing. It's a miracle.
Without going into details, Alfred showed me a great kindness one day that endeared me to him forever. He had a heart of gold and temper to match, but you rarely saw that side of him. My parents were so grateful to him for helping me, they began to pour their tithes and offerings into that little church. Now, I know a whole lot of other people gave of their means, but if it hadn't been for mom and dad they wouldn't have been able to build the new church building as quickly as they did.
I was married in that little one-room church house, by Alfred. It held a lot of good memories for me. It's been gone a long time, now. But the newer building is still there and from what I hear they still hold services there.
Alfred has also been gone a little while, but what he did for me will not be forgotten. I had a chance to go see him shortly before he died. It was a good visit, and I'll treasure it forever.
There are places in our past that hold significant value to us, as well as places that don't. It's best we forget the latter, and hold firm to the former. Even though Roadside had a short existence in my life, it still has a special place in my heart. The singing was great, the fellowship was awesome, and the preachin' weren't that bad. All in all, I guess I have to say it was what a church ought to be. It was a family. And it just don't get no better than that. (Bad word usage written on purpose. It's how I really talk.)
Saturday, July 6, 2013
Sex With Teacher
I don't know about you, but I'm amazed at all the news stories coming out where these young, female teachers are having sex with their sixteen year old students. The most recent was in California, where this 28 year old woman just had her sixteen year old student's baby. Soon after, she was arrested. I looked this woman up on the internet and saw her photo. I was expecting to see a woman who looked like she needed to coerce a sixteen year old in order to have sex with anybody. Yet, once again, I see a good looking, well dressed woman with a trophy 'rack' that....if offered...would have a line of men ready to bed her on looks alone.
A couple of years ago, there was this blonde in Florida who had sex with her student. There was a photo of her, in a bikini, straddling a motorcycle. My first thought when I saw the photo was...."Lucky motorcycle."
When it comes to teachers, there is definitely a double standard in the mind of the public when they start having sex with their students. We all retract in horror when it's a male teacher having sex with a sixteen year old girl. Men....mostly....merely shrug their shoulders when the situation is reversed. We tend to think back and then wonder where these types of teachers were when WE were in school.
I had no such female teacher when I was in high school. We had Juanita Martin, an old maid who was the librarian when my mother was in high school. She was a great English teacher, but far beyond what one would consider sexy when I was in her class. I guess the closest I came to having the hots for a teacher was Coach Davis. I don't remember her first name, but she had a body that could kill a young man if he were to see her naked. When Coach Davis came to school, it was usually in a short skirt. Me and the other boys liked it when she turned to write something at the top of the chalkboard. On occasion, we could see flashes of her panties. She was in her late twenties and had a cute face...when she wasn't smiling. The main problem with Coach Davis was that she didn't have a healthy tooth in her head. When she smiled....it was a huge turnoff.
Even in college there were no good looking professors who were hot for student. They were all old, crusty and...in most cases...saw us for what we were. Boys trying to be men with an overload of testosterone that had no idea what life was all about. They weren't interested in us in that way...and the feeling was mutual.
Women who do this sort of thing must be mixed up in the head on a plane that is beyond my understanding. Boys are not very hygienic, and rarely have the experience to satisfy an older woman...unless that's what they are looking for. It has to be a mental short circuit for them to act out on these fantasies. It can never work out for the best. Usually, the boys are not mentally mature enough to handle the experience. After a while, it begins to bother them and they tell their parents about it. A man's first reaction is to think, "Why the hell did he do that???" It seems, from a worldly perspective, that it would be stupid to mess up a good thing like that. I mean, after all, it isn't every day that a woman walks up to us and says, "Take me, baby." Especially at my advanced age.
With male teachers who do this, it's more about an extension of their power over the student. Could it be the same with female teachers? I hardly think so. Women aren't into power like men are. Women like power, and they have a way of wielding it different than men, but power isn't what motivates the large majority of women. In my humble opinion. They want to be empowered, sure....but when it comes to sexual predators, I think there is a different cognitive going on than with the men who perpetrate this type of activity. Power definitely has something to do with it, but I don't think it is the primary motivator.
Could it be that these women come from a more sedate, conservative background and they feel like their lives have become the same? When they get the job and get married and start having children, perhaps they realize that life has not met the grade they thought it would be on. It's boring, routine and tedious in their minds...maybe...and they start seeing these sexual escapades as a way to break out of it. Few things are more exciting and titillating than entering in the world of socially taboo things....like having sex with minors. Secrecy is paramount to this type of relationship, and keeping secrets is exciting and dangerous. With men, it's about the power and the conquest. With the women, I think it is more about the excitement of doing something out of the normal realm they became so rutted in. But, alas, I'm not a psychologist....even though I pretend to be one on this blog.
I'm going to put more time into evaluating myself. Because I can't seem to get that one question out of my head every time I read one of these stories. "Where were these gals when I was in school??!!" I just can't....get...it...out.
A couple of years ago, there was this blonde in Florida who had sex with her student. There was a photo of her, in a bikini, straddling a motorcycle. My first thought when I saw the photo was...."Lucky motorcycle."
When it comes to teachers, there is definitely a double standard in the mind of the public when they start having sex with their students. We all retract in horror when it's a male teacher having sex with a sixteen year old girl. Men....mostly....merely shrug their shoulders when the situation is reversed. We tend to think back and then wonder where these types of teachers were when WE were in school.
I had no such female teacher when I was in high school. We had Juanita Martin, an old maid who was the librarian when my mother was in high school. She was a great English teacher, but far beyond what one would consider sexy when I was in her class. I guess the closest I came to having the hots for a teacher was Coach Davis. I don't remember her first name, but she had a body that could kill a young man if he were to see her naked. When Coach Davis came to school, it was usually in a short skirt. Me and the other boys liked it when she turned to write something at the top of the chalkboard. On occasion, we could see flashes of her panties. She was in her late twenties and had a cute face...when she wasn't smiling. The main problem with Coach Davis was that she didn't have a healthy tooth in her head. When she smiled....it was a huge turnoff.
Even in college there were no good looking professors who were hot for student. They were all old, crusty and...in most cases...saw us for what we were. Boys trying to be men with an overload of testosterone that had no idea what life was all about. They weren't interested in us in that way...and the feeling was mutual.
Women who do this sort of thing must be mixed up in the head on a plane that is beyond my understanding. Boys are not very hygienic, and rarely have the experience to satisfy an older woman...unless that's what they are looking for. It has to be a mental short circuit for them to act out on these fantasies. It can never work out for the best. Usually, the boys are not mentally mature enough to handle the experience. After a while, it begins to bother them and they tell their parents about it. A man's first reaction is to think, "Why the hell did he do that???" It seems, from a worldly perspective, that it would be stupid to mess up a good thing like that. I mean, after all, it isn't every day that a woman walks up to us and says, "Take me, baby." Especially at my advanced age.
With male teachers who do this, it's more about an extension of their power over the student. Could it be the same with female teachers? I hardly think so. Women aren't into power like men are. Women like power, and they have a way of wielding it different than men, but power isn't what motivates the large majority of women. In my humble opinion. They want to be empowered, sure....but when it comes to sexual predators, I think there is a different cognitive going on than with the men who perpetrate this type of activity. Power definitely has something to do with it, but I don't think it is the primary motivator.
Could it be that these women come from a more sedate, conservative background and they feel like their lives have become the same? When they get the job and get married and start having children, perhaps they realize that life has not met the grade they thought it would be on. It's boring, routine and tedious in their minds...maybe...and they start seeing these sexual escapades as a way to break out of it. Few things are more exciting and titillating than entering in the world of socially taboo things....like having sex with minors. Secrecy is paramount to this type of relationship, and keeping secrets is exciting and dangerous. With men, it's about the power and the conquest. With the women, I think it is more about the excitement of doing something out of the normal realm they became so rutted in. But, alas, I'm not a psychologist....even though I pretend to be one on this blog.
I'm going to put more time into evaluating myself. Because I can't seem to get that one question out of my head every time I read one of these stories. "Where were these gals when I was in school??!!" I just can't....get...it...out.
Friday, July 5, 2013
Onions
I really like onions. These babies come in a wide variety of shapes, colors and flavors. You have the green onion, the purple onion, the white onion and the yellow onion. You have the tasteless 1015's and hotter than fire devil whites. Depending on what you're cooking and how you want the onion to enhance the flavor, all depends on what kind of onion you use. The onion, in my opinion, is almost as important as salt when it comes to seasoning your food. If I open my refrigerator and don't see an onion in there somewhere? It's panic time. Onion and Heinz Ketchup must be in the fridge at all times during the day and night. It's a guy thing with me.
However, I have recently come to the conclusion that the onion is the most nefarious, wicked, sinful, dangerous and ultimately deadly poisonous plant on God's green earth. Here's why.
When I was a young boy, my grandfather, Hugh B. Means...at first...was nothing more than an old man to me. He was cool in that my parents could not correct me in any way, shape or fashion when he was around. One day my dad took off his belt to give me a few swats, but he wasn't thinking very clearly. My grandfather was only a few feet away and advised my dad that if he didn't want that belt used on him, he might want to put it back on. Dad complied...while giving me his dreaded 'Death Stare'. My execution was certain, only the timing had been delayed.
During the summer months, starting when I was about ten, I would go to my grandparents' house to stay for a couple of months. They lived in the country and these were the best of times for me. The freedom I had to romp and play and discover new things and meet new people are some of the happiest memories of my life. It was also during these times that I would go to town with my grandfather when he went to get the mail, groceries, feed or the bi-weekly haircut. He had a large chicken yard and sold eggs to the neighbors. So, I would go with him on his egg delivery rounds and meet interesting people. I was fortunate in that I learned at a young age to listen to older people when they talk. A person's mind can be opened to almost infinity if they listen to the experience of years. One day, as I was with my grandfather in his truck, he pointed to some cows in a pasture to his left. They were all lying down in a bunch. He said, "You see that?" I looked over and nodded, then replied, "Yes sir." He winked at me and smiled. "That means it's gonna rain." I heard what he said, but I thought he was pulling my leg. One time when I was five years old, I walked out on the back porch with a do-nut. Hugh B was sitting out there and he called me over to him. With a stern look on his face, he pointed at the do-nut. "Don't eat the hole, boy," he warned. "It'll make you sick." Now, here was a man I trusted with all my being. I looked at the do-nut and figured he must know what he's talking about. So I ate all around the hole, leaving a thin crust of dough between me and certain death. Once I ate as much as I could, he told me to give the rest to him. He promptly popped it in his mouth and ate it. I said, "I thought those made you sick." With no emotion he just said, "Do-nut holes don't make me sick." I never forgot how I was flim-flammed out of a whole do-nut. So, I'm looking at the cows and they didn't seem any different to me. This could be another do-nut hole trick. I just said that was cool and we went on down the road. About three hours later, a toad-strangler hit and lasted for about thirty minutes. I never forgot that, either.
My grandfather always had two or three hogs in a pen that he was fattening up for butcher. One of my chores was to throw their slop to them. It didn't take long for them to recognize me as their favorite person. At dinner, I was noticing that my grandmother had to make small dishes of different things for him because he wouldn't eat onions. If a recipe called for onions, she made a larger dish for the rest of us and a smaller one for him without the onions. I asked him one evening why he wouldn't eat them. He explained that he wouldn't eat anything a hog wouldn't eat. I said, "A hog won't eat an onion? Hogs will eat anything." He just shook his head and replied, "No they won't."
Well, I wasn't going to let this pass without the test. The next day I went to the hog pen with onion in hand. They came running up to the trough, seeing it was me, grunting their approval that I had arrived early. I reached over the fence and plopped the onion on the ground. The three hogs started fighting over the morsel. One would get it in his mouth and chomp on it. As soon as the flavor hit its tongue, he would drop it. Then, another would grab it and do the same thing. When they finally gave up on it, I have to admit it was gnarled up a bit. But, they didn't eat it. Later that evening I dropped an onion in with the bucket of slop. I was going to try camouflage. Perhaps in their gluttonous, zombie-like state they wouldn't even notice it was an onion and gulp it down. That would prove my grandfather wasn't the wisest seer to ever see a sight. That would elevate me to knight status or something like that if I were to fell his supposed knowledge. With courage and determination I marched to the hog pen and poured the noxious goo into the trough. It was always amazing to me how things that once looked so good and smelled so delicious could so quickly turn into vomit. Anyway, the hogs dug in with their snouts and slopped and slurped and chewed and swallowed and grunted and did the repeat, until everything was gobbled up....except....the onion.
It is the onion we must fear.
However, I have recently come to the conclusion that the onion is the most nefarious, wicked, sinful, dangerous and ultimately deadly poisonous plant on God's green earth. Here's why.
When I was a young boy, my grandfather, Hugh B. Means...at first...was nothing more than an old man to me. He was cool in that my parents could not correct me in any way, shape or fashion when he was around. One day my dad took off his belt to give me a few swats, but he wasn't thinking very clearly. My grandfather was only a few feet away and advised my dad that if he didn't want that belt used on him, he might want to put it back on. Dad complied...while giving me his dreaded 'Death Stare'. My execution was certain, only the timing had been delayed.
During the summer months, starting when I was about ten, I would go to my grandparents' house to stay for a couple of months. They lived in the country and these were the best of times for me. The freedom I had to romp and play and discover new things and meet new people are some of the happiest memories of my life. It was also during these times that I would go to town with my grandfather when he went to get the mail, groceries, feed or the bi-weekly haircut. He had a large chicken yard and sold eggs to the neighbors. So, I would go with him on his egg delivery rounds and meet interesting people. I was fortunate in that I learned at a young age to listen to older people when they talk. A person's mind can be opened to almost infinity if they listen to the experience of years. One day, as I was with my grandfather in his truck, he pointed to some cows in a pasture to his left. They were all lying down in a bunch. He said, "You see that?" I looked over and nodded, then replied, "Yes sir." He winked at me and smiled. "That means it's gonna rain." I heard what he said, but I thought he was pulling my leg. One time when I was five years old, I walked out on the back porch with a do-nut. Hugh B was sitting out there and he called me over to him. With a stern look on his face, he pointed at the do-nut. "Don't eat the hole, boy," he warned. "It'll make you sick." Now, here was a man I trusted with all my being. I looked at the do-nut and figured he must know what he's talking about. So I ate all around the hole, leaving a thin crust of dough between me and certain death. Once I ate as much as I could, he told me to give the rest to him. He promptly popped it in his mouth and ate it. I said, "I thought those made you sick." With no emotion he just said, "Do-nut holes don't make me sick." I never forgot how I was flim-flammed out of a whole do-nut. So, I'm looking at the cows and they didn't seem any different to me. This could be another do-nut hole trick. I just said that was cool and we went on down the road. About three hours later, a toad-strangler hit and lasted for about thirty minutes. I never forgot that, either.
My grandfather always had two or three hogs in a pen that he was fattening up for butcher. One of my chores was to throw their slop to them. It didn't take long for them to recognize me as their favorite person. At dinner, I was noticing that my grandmother had to make small dishes of different things for him because he wouldn't eat onions. If a recipe called for onions, she made a larger dish for the rest of us and a smaller one for him without the onions. I asked him one evening why he wouldn't eat them. He explained that he wouldn't eat anything a hog wouldn't eat. I said, "A hog won't eat an onion? Hogs will eat anything." He just shook his head and replied, "No they won't."
Well, I wasn't going to let this pass without the test. The next day I went to the hog pen with onion in hand. They came running up to the trough, seeing it was me, grunting their approval that I had arrived early. I reached over the fence and plopped the onion on the ground. The three hogs started fighting over the morsel. One would get it in his mouth and chomp on it. As soon as the flavor hit its tongue, he would drop it. Then, another would grab it and do the same thing. When they finally gave up on it, I have to admit it was gnarled up a bit. But, they didn't eat it. Later that evening I dropped an onion in with the bucket of slop. I was going to try camouflage. Perhaps in their gluttonous, zombie-like state they wouldn't even notice it was an onion and gulp it down. That would prove my grandfather wasn't the wisest seer to ever see a sight. That would elevate me to knight status or something like that if I were to fell his supposed knowledge. With courage and determination I marched to the hog pen and poured the noxious goo into the trough. It was always amazing to me how things that once looked so good and smelled so delicious could so quickly turn into vomit. Anyway, the hogs dug in with their snouts and slopped and slurped and chewed and swallowed and grunted and did the repeat, until everything was gobbled up....except....the onion.
It is the onion we must fear.
What Lois Lerner Teaches Us
How would you have liked Lois Lerner as your English teacher in grade school? Doesn't she look like the classic "B" word, scouring the flesh off her class with those buzz saw eyes and ripping them apart with her faux pas terminal righteousness? What an act she is.
But, she isn't an English teacher and she doesn't direct our children on how to be good little subjects to the gubment. However, she is a teacher. She is teaching me many things about how this administration views us and themselves. Other than being a disgusting piece of work, she's the poster child right now of what's wrong with this administration.
Lerner comes to the Congressional committee and gives a two minute long statement. She said she did nothing wrong, broke no laws, ignored no IRS policies and basically was still a virgin. Then, she took the fifth. Hmmmm. I haven't done anything improper, but I don't want to incriminate myself. Hmmmmm.
Trey Gowdy, Congressman from South Carolina, is my hero. He doesn't cut these federal munchkins any slack and comes to the hearings better prepared than an eight year old at a spelling bee. After Lerner pulled her Houdini act by claiming innocence and then disappearing under the cloak of the Fifth Amendment, Gowdy tore into her....as he should have. Being a former prosecutor, he knows a little bit about the Constitution and people's rights. He is quite correct that in a court of law one cannot make a statement of innocence and then proclaim protection under the fifth. The only saving grace for this....this....woman...is that a Congressional hearing is not a court of law.
Now, she has come forward and said that she will testify in front of the committee, but wants to be granted immunity first. Hmmmm. If I haven't done anything wrong and haven't broken any laws and am still a professing virgin, how can I possibly incriminate myself?
The committee members, as a whole, should take her behind closed doors and say, "Whatcha got?", before they grant her a pass to the women's toilet. The last thing the American people want is for her to get immunity only to testify that it was some rogue, underling agents beneath her who went off the reservation, or that she can't 'recall' or has 'no knowledge' or would 'have to get back to you on that'. Those type of answers aren't worth squat to anybody, especially her. If that will be her answers, then immunity is unnecessary. If that's all she has, then grant her nothing. NOTHING.
The IRS, as you know, is more powerful than the FBI, the CIA, the Secret Service, and the armed branches of the military....put together. They can, on a whim, take away your house, your savings, your checking account, your cars, your boat, your dog, your children and that last grain of salt you were hoping to season your dirt with afterwards. And if you don't hide the dirt dinner, they can take that, too. One year we owed the IRS around $2400.00. We were destitute at the time, having to pay for our daughter's medical and doctor bills. So, we asked the IRS if we could pay it off with installments. They said, "Surrrrrrre, no problemo. You can do that. At 24% interest." Grrrrrrr. From that point on, I pay in the maximum amount so I won't have to owe those bloodsuckers again.
What do you think would have happened if I had told them, "Nah, I take the fifth." Or, "Nah, I want immunity from payin' ya." Or, "Nah, I don't want to talk to you." Or, here's my favorite, "Nah, I think I'll send you a penny a year. How 'bout dat?" If I had said any of those things, I would still be sitting in prison somewhere begging the guards to NOT make me take a shower.
These people have risen to the place where they are little gods in their own minds. Hell, they're getting ready to give themselves $70 million in bonuses. "Good job, raping the little people. Here ya go. Have fun with yer bonus." They live in a dream world where they dress up like Star Trek characters and make training videos that have no value as training videos. They have lavish conference after conference after conference, on the nickels they take from me and you. They don't want to hear excuses from us and they don't want us to lie to them and they don't allow us to NOT talk to them when they are after that last corpuscle to suck out of us.
Now, this didn't all start under Obama; even though I would like to blame him for it. This goes way back and that's why the IRS needs to be de-commissioned like some old World War One dreadnaught and put in mothballs. Presidents have used the IRS to foment their own political agenda for decades and to mark those they consider political enemies or hold extremist positions. This has happened under Republican administrations as well as Democrat. The IRS has become the preferred political weapon of the White House and it must go. That's what I've learned from Lois Lerner.
What, Msssss. Lerner? You don't have to answer MY questions when it is painfully obvious there has been some serious impropriety on the IRS' part? None of you have to answer MY representatives questions so I can find out what MY government has been doing wrong? You sanctimonious backbait. What a hyprocrite you are, and the others who were in on this with you. Yes, you sit in your ivory tower like a Nazi, just following orders, at the expense of everyone in this country who pays taxes and thinks....truly believes....we have fair representation. What a crock.
Yes, Lois Lerner has taught me that our government is even more corrupt than I had previously thought. And she wants to get away scot-free. I hope it doesn't happen. I hope they call her in a closed door session and everything said there would be off the record and super secret. And, if she's got nothing but BS to say, then show her the door and file contempt charges on her for what she did in her last appearance.
She has also taught me something else. Those Americans that are on the side of this administration would probably have to hear the concentration camp gate shut behind them before they would get outraged about anything Obama and his thugs do. But, by then...it would be too late.
Find out just what any people will quietly submit to and you have the exact measure of the injustice and wrong which will be imposed on them. (Frederick Douglass)
And, he was right.
But, she isn't an English teacher and she doesn't direct our children on how to be good little subjects to the gubment. However, she is a teacher. She is teaching me many things about how this administration views us and themselves. Other than being a disgusting piece of work, she's the poster child right now of what's wrong with this administration.
Lerner comes to the Congressional committee and gives a two minute long statement. She said she did nothing wrong, broke no laws, ignored no IRS policies and basically was still a virgin. Then, she took the fifth. Hmmmm. I haven't done anything improper, but I don't want to incriminate myself. Hmmmmm.
Trey Gowdy, Congressman from South Carolina, is my hero. He doesn't cut these federal munchkins any slack and comes to the hearings better prepared than an eight year old at a spelling bee. After Lerner pulled her Houdini act by claiming innocence and then disappearing under the cloak of the Fifth Amendment, Gowdy tore into her....as he should have. Being a former prosecutor, he knows a little bit about the Constitution and people's rights. He is quite correct that in a court of law one cannot make a statement of innocence and then proclaim protection under the fifth. The only saving grace for this....this....woman...is that a Congressional hearing is not a court of law.
Now, she has come forward and said that she will testify in front of the committee, but wants to be granted immunity first. Hmmmm. If I haven't done anything wrong and haven't broken any laws and am still a professing virgin, how can I possibly incriminate myself?
The committee members, as a whole, should take her behind closed doors and say, "Whatcha got?", before they grant her a pass to the women's toilet. The last thing the American people want is for her to get immunity only to testify that it was some rogue, underling agents beneath her who went off the reservation, or that she can't 'recall' or has 'no knowledge' or would 'have to get back to you on that'. Those type of answers aren't worth squat to anybody, especially her. If that will be her answers, then immunity is unnecessary. If that's all she has, then grant her nothing. NOTHING.
The IRS, as you know, is more powerful than the FBI, the CIA, the Secret Service, and the armed branches of the military....put together. They can, on a whim, take away your house, your savings, your checking account, your cars, your boat, your dog, your children and that last grain of salt you were hoping to season your dirt with afterwards. And if you don't hide the dirt dinner, they can take that, too. One year we owed the IRS around $2400.00. We were destitute at the time, having to pay for our daughter's medical and doctor bills. So, we asked the IRS if we could pay it off with installments. They said, "Surrrrrrre, no problemo. You can do that. At 24% interest." Grrrrrrr. From that point on, I pay in the maximum amount so I won't have to owe those bloodsuckers again.
What do you think would have happened if I had told them, "Nah, I take the fifth." Or, "Nah, I want immunity from payin' ya." Or, "Nah, I don't want to talk to you." Or, here's my favorite, "Nah, I think I'll send you a penny a year. How 'bout dat?" If I had said any of those things, I would still be sitting in prison somewhere begging the guards to NOT make me take a shower.
These people have risen to the place where they are little gods in their own minds. Hell, they're getting ready to give themselves $70 million in bonuses. "Good job, raping the little people. Here ya go. Have fun with yer bonus." They live in a dream world where they dress up like Star Trek characters and make training videos that have no value as training videos. They have lavish conference after conference after conference, on the nickels they take from me and you. They don't want to hear excuses from us and they don't want us to lie to them and they don't allow us to NOT talk to them when they are after that last corpuscle to suck out of us.
Now, this didn't all start under Obama; even though I would like to blame him for it. This goes way back and that's why the IRS needs to be de-commissioned like some old World War One dreadnaught and put in mothballs. Presidents have used the IRS to foment their own political agenda for decades and to mark those they consider political enemies or hold extremist positions. This has happened under Republican administrations as well as Democrat. The IRS has become the preferred political weapon of the White House and it must go. That's what I've learned from Lois Lerner.
What, Msssss. Lerner? You don't have to answer MY questions when it is painfully obvious there has been some serious impropriety on the IRS' part? None of you have to answer MY representatives questions so I can find out what MY government has been doing wrong? You sanctimonious backbait. What a hyprocrite you are, and the others who were in on this with you. Yes, you sit in your ivory tower like a Nazi, just following orders, at the expense of everyone in this country who pays taxes and thinks....truly believes....we have fair representation. What a crock.
Yes, Lois Lerner has taught me that our government is even more corrupt than I had previously thought. And she wants to get away scot-free. I hope it doesn't happen. I hope they call her in a closed door session and everything said there would be off the record and super secret. And, if she's got nothing but BS to say, then show her the door and file contempt charges on her for what she did in her last appearance.
She has also taught me something else. Those Americans that are on the side of this administration would probably have to hear the concentration camp gate shut behind them before they would get outraged about anything Obama and his thugs do. But, by then...it would be too late.
Find out just what any people will quietly submit to and you have the exact measure of the injustice and wrong which will be imposed on them. (Frederick Douglass)
And, he was right.
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