Monthly Archives: July 2018

Good Fences Make Good Neighbors

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Trump is threatening to shut down the government if he doesn’t get some movement from congress on funding the wall to be built on our southern border. This measure is meant to slow the incursion of illegal entries into the U.S. from the south. The Dems see an endless constituency in the masses of needy and criminal migrants and are presently barking to open the border permanently. Borders and walls…… such unfriendly things. They don’t fit into the CandyLand  world that lies just around the corner.

Stand at the edge of the water and look east. Notice the dirty orange glow above the horizon. It is Great Britain  burning. And watch as a flaming snake slithers across the water like Greek fire, incendiary and unstoppable. We can either take action in our own salvation, or cower in a corner and wait for a miracle. If we fight we may win and we may lose. If we wait, we wait for the inevitable.

 

Religion of Peace at the Point of a Sword

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Yes I am probably preaching to the choir. Much of the history of Muslim conflict is known to those interested in history. BUT! Many who are not interested in history may find a educational moment in the article linked to below.

READ THE LINKED ARTICLE OR SUFFER THE CONSEQUENSES !

In the 7th grade I was introduced to the history of the Barbary pirates and Jefferson’s difficulties with their ship-jacking off the North African coast. I was aware that there were a lot of Muslims , OVER THERE. And because they were “over there ” and not here, my pre-adolescent mind pigeon-holed the info until I began having personal contact with Muslims of various nationalities and political profiles as an adult.  

Higher Learning?

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I was possibly the worst student that my small hometown ever attempted to teach. Skipping school was my favorite subject. But my mother, in particular loved learning and she promoted it whenever she could. I remember having everything from star charts to models of the Lunar Excursion Module, before the first moon landing.

Margaret MIxon longed to be a writer. But in rural Oklahoma in the 1920’s, such dreams were not nurtured in little girls. Housewife would have to do.. So while she was spoiling me rotten in other ways she also cultivated an obsession with learning in me. The books models charts, microscopes and telescopes she bought taught a priceless lesson. The more you learn, the larger your world would become. History would become, flesh, sinew and bone  and the  midnight stars would boggle my mind..

My questions concerning the college age people queried in this video are 1)What have these people been paying attention to in the last couple of decades? 2) Do they know how embarrassingly ignorant they are? 3) Do they know anything about group think?

The Adolescent Left

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SPIDEY WILL FIND THE CULPRIT WHO DISSED TRUMPS STAR! An so it goes. Thomas Pain could  have skipped all the beautiful rhetoric and compelling ideas about the rights of man and just smashed something, or painted obscenities on the cows as they ruminated their cud. The age range my gut gives me is a culprit around 12 years old. My gut however, would be wrong. The mastermind behind this assault was 24 years old. (His motivations are not clear but it is probably going to be excused as (“performance-art”).

Gregg Donovan, the former official greeter for Beverly Hills holds a “Trump 2020” sign near the destroyed star.

“Occupy Ice” left some gifts for the city of Portland upon their departure. Again one would estimate the age of the perps at 10 years old.

Occupy ICE PDX Protesters Leave Heaps Of Trash, Human Waste For City To Clean At Taxpayers' Expense

The Honorable Maxine Waters incites all who will hear her to go to the streets and “Scream, or Do something”. Basically, she is inciting to riot. A MEMBER OF CONGRESS IS INCITING HER CONSTITUANT TO RIOT!  When a child or young adolescent does not have the verbal skill to adequately communicate their ideas they get physical and destroy something or just throw a tantrum. Clinically, these responses are referred to as “acting out, or oppositional-defiant disorder” ….monikers used to describe children in distress or aggression.  HMMMMMM pictures speak volumes!

Sunday Morning

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It has been an eventful decade. First a diagnosis of idiopathic neurapathy.. Then three strokes, one right after another.  Subsequently I developed Idiopathic periferalneuropathy, A struggle  finding the effective medication to quell the neuropathic burn in my hands and legs.I am presently on Methadone. I have never used heroine, it is cheap and appeared to offer the best suppression of pain  even though it carried with it the taint of it being used to treat junkies. I have done a lot of partying but never have had a taste for narcotics. It just a little embarrassing filling prescriptions with methadone on the list.

 About 5 years ago My good wifes father cals in an IOU. She had promised to keep him out of nursing homes as much as possible. We are a of a sort that once a commitment is mades it is kept at all costs. Deb’s dad shows up with dementia and we, committed to take care of him as long as could, rented a big beautiful house in the mountains west of Colorado springs, and for two years we suffered under the rage of a man, ,. There was few  good moments, for two years as my wife daughter, her husband and myself had as Ivan declined. . When death came and mercifully took him, the wreckage in human terms was four people suffering from PTSD to one degree or another. At about this time my health began to fail and I left the mountain retreat on oxygen.

And about that time one of my other daughters came up with stage three cancer in her breast and, more frightening, in her lymph nodes. We moved her up from Kansas and have spent the last year with the entire family living in a large house nearer the Springs. Amber my daughter, showed such strength and poise ,through out  I still stand in awe of her calm strong demeanor. I am proud of her

. My daughters brought their children of course and the population of the house grew to fourteen. It was crowded.  A moment of serenity was hard to find and the screeching was skull spitting But yesterday over half the children left for and overnighter with relatives in Greely. I thanked God for a little peace and quite.

At the moment my small world of living on the end of a cannula got smaller. Having had all my top  teeth pulled to fit some false teeth I woke up dopey and set my face on fire, (oxygen + flame) I have been bedridden for about a month going crazy.

One of the children who didn’t go visiting  stayed with me. Deb was working an overnight shift. So I woke up with a tabby cat curled in the bed sheets and a Macy next to me pushing my legs off the bed. Macy will do anything for me as so will the other children. I am treated with respect that I never expected at this point in my life.I spent a few quiet moments lokking at Marci and the little tabby car, curled together in slumber.

I now things will be getting better. As long try, very consciously, to go the extra mile in loving each other. Loving each other seems to be the only real answer. 

Sure the place gets noisy and messy with the kids. But when I need something or wish to say something the kids are right there, saving my soul just a little bit more with their brand of love. I am blessed. And I wouldn’t want it any other way.

Above all, I would like to praise Deb. Her efforts to keep the house running, making everybody happy while taking care of a woman with cancer and a man with COPD. She is a remarkable woman. I would probably be dead if not for her. Debra Mixon taught me a lot about love in the past few years. For that I thank her.

 

Don’t Fight……Saith the Reaper

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Klikdapik to read an interesting tidbit on the negative effects of a bad marriage on your heath. It appears that a toxic, conflict ridden marriage can do real damage to your health. Communication and in my opinion, the willingness to accept responsibility for our actions affects the general health of couples. Men, it appears, are particularly vulnerable to the stress of repeated conflicts over the same issues over and over again. Making peace it  appears is much more beneficial than proving yourself right.

 

Burning Desires

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Sorry about my imposed hiatus fellow rogues, but I had a bit of mishap a few weeks ago that has prevented me from doing anything but hurt and recover. I will explain:

Following an extraction of all of my top teeth, still while under rather heavy sedation, I threw my legs over the edge of the bed, grabbed a butt and lit it up…….With the cannula, blowing four liters an hour, still in my nose.

I have seen a oxygen fire  before. the gas shoots out of the cannula under a bit of pressure. It buns so hot that It appears as sharp stiretts of white flame that will cut a trench through a combustible in the very instant of contact. Both nostrils got a blow torch up into the sinus cavities, my cheeks below the eyes sustained butterfly shaped burns .

My recovery from the burns heartache a point where I can write just a little bit . My beauty (Deb, my wife) took care of me well and tried to keep me medicated  close to a coma,  which is standard for serious burn cases, because the pain is excruciating and you just what to, “Sleep through it”

Pardon my absence I will post soon.

The Truth

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Pat Condell is British. Britain is the Godfather to and social doppelganger of  our North American culture. We understand each other and love each other in an embrace that will not soon be rent asunder. So listen carefully, you will hear Pat express your concerns like he has been reading your mail. It’s all abut courage and denile in the second millennia.

The Brits have always been keen on a class system of social order. Back in the era of cobbling the chair you sit on,  dodging  bears lunging from the undergrowth, or killing the mountain lion before he drags off “little Jimmy”  most had a clear vision of fearful things. (Accept for fools like the good ole’ boys in Salem Massachusetts).

We could shuffle off this mortal coil via any of a legion of illnesses or wounds. ……Never met my grandfather on my mothers side. He accidently let a pistol hammer drop on his thumb. A few days later he was dead of tetanus. So yes little Jimmy, there was a lot to be fearful of.  REAL fear. Not a cold sweat ginned up at great length through going OCD on every little pet peeve while wringing every drop of fabricated tears from conjured up dangers.

It seems the power, of well turned rhetoric or a compelling argument  has been lost in the concertina wire of histrionic tantrums that always accompany every petition from the progressive side of any argument.