THE MINERETTES OF MINNEAPOLIS

 

Oh! My Lord! It’s Ilahn Omar in physical contact with a MALE? Are they married? Are they dating? Does he need a green card?  Or is she just happy that a symbolic victory has been won in Minneapolis Minn. as the call to prayer is blasted from loudspeakers five times a day. Supposedly for a few days but in reality it is the edge of the wedge as the Unma hunkers down to make a home in Minneapolis that will have generational impact.

THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA

The problem with Iran is that it’s got it’s own history. The sense of Iranian identity stands apart from the Muslim take-over that ousted the Shaw back in 1979. Zoroastrianism is making a mild mannered comeback as the Iranians tire of the “chop your arms and legs off” Muslim regimes. Zoroaster’s preaching touts three main precepts as foundation to the belief system that bears his name, 1) Goodly thoughts, 2)Goodly Speech, and 3)Goodly Deeds, define the gentle spirit of Zoroastrianism, as opposed to the iron handed, IIslamic regime that has it’s foot on the neck of the Iranian public right now. Klikdapik below for more……Good article……

IT MUST BE TRUE……..THEY ARE ALL SO PRETTY!

 

RANDY QUAID,  not known for his restraint of tongue or pen does hit the mark in his rant at the magical machinations of the Mainstream Media,MSNBC. better feel lucky that refunds aren’t required after false news accounts are spread across the ether of the beautiful U.S. skies. It boggles the mind that there are  brain damaged snowflakes  who believe the testy tools of the empire of the flies. Who is Beelzebub, lord  of the flies? I like to think it is Chris Matthews, He is about the oldest whore on the block and knows all the Democrat cronies. Once in a while, HOWEVER, a voice from the right side of the rails shouts to heavens the real truth. Even if it is the truth that lies are being told.

 

HOWDY FELLAS, I’M BAAAACK!”

 

SNOWFLAKES WITH BACKBONE?…………….NAAAAAA !

YOURS TRULY, STANDING ON OMAHA BEACH, ON THE COAST OF FRANCE

I was born in 1956. Before my first birthday I contracted cerbro-spinal meningitis. An infection of the covering of the brain and spinal cord..  The symptoms of meningitis included spasms of the muscles in the neck and back. They say my spine was bent till my head almost touched my heels, Fear 

has twisted effect on our fears and. Meningitis was a fearful and often deadly disease. To a certain effect it still is, Although a mere infant,  I’ve been told we received threatening calls from those fearful of a meningitis outbreak in the little rural community of Alva Oklahoma.There were even some nurses who opted out of taking care of baby John (me)  But through the skill and tenacity of some good ‘ol country doctors, I survived

I am still among the living, and 12 years later I would be treated by one of the same doctors again for another life-threatening condition  At the age of 12 , while helping my father work, I fell through a floor that covered a large extremely sharp spiral blade used to carry wheat grain from one location to another. My right leg, wrapped around the spiral blade and was mutilated from thigh to the soul of my foot. Now it looks like I have a monkeys paw on my right ankle. And a mass of scars the length of my leg as each spiral took a bite and sliced deep into the meat of my thigh and calf,  The fuses  blew when my leg wrapped around the augar for a the third time…………THANK GOD!

PTSD, unknown at the time; haunted me and drove me as a 12 and 13 year old boy.. The mental, as well as physical pain took me places I never thought I would go…….. burglarizing drug dealers that almost got me shot ! Coming to my senses at about age 27 I returned to collage and attempted to complete my degrees. Got a Bachelors, then Masters degree.

My quiet father,  abstinent through the first years of my life, resumed drinking heavily after my accident. He blamed himself for my injuries. He started drinking and didn’t stop till he was dead.

Living in the Shadow of Annihilation  

\Several thousand ICBM’s had been pre-sighted on both sides of the Atlantic. Total annihilation or the slow death of a nuclear winter lurked in the shadows of our fears as disaster drills played out in grade schools with children lining the halls, crouched into little balls head in in their hands. Of course such exorcises were of no  use…….. If nuclear war broke out, crouching in the hall would do no good at all. Everyone dies,.. Excavating a bomb shelter in your back yard was a sign of intelligence, not the sign of a nut case, as it is thought when we see a “prepper” with a spade. With a country split over a war that was a no-winner for all sides. And proxy wars popping up where ever someone felt they could benefit, Every day was a roll of the dice,

My father carried us best as he could during the great depression, He even left hearth ahd home to  work building kroads for the WPA in the Kiamichi Mts. in southern Okla, The men lived   big tents like some kind of military  bivouac. Then WWII broke out and the men of America saved the world. FOR FREE!

An enemy with enough clout to kill everyone on the planet,, and a generation born and reared with the sneaking suspicion they that they may have to die in a nuclear war, Iife seemed fragile and oh so precious..

A new genetic analysis of the Wuhan virus may be related to bat-derived coronaviruses

THE BAT THAT SHAT

I see NORAD from my yard. The days of the shroud of fear seem far away. My generation t least endured a great travail in fighting the Viet Nam War while the nation, split and near fracturing, welded the union together again. Take inventory, of our inner selves as the very validity of the war was debated,fought and for a few, (Kent State), died for.

 

Now that the bats near the Wuhan market; Southern China have poisoned the planet with the CORONA VIRUS. Deb and I are  into the second week of isolating together in an attempt to assist it’s  demise through strategic positioning. In other words, staying far enougah from others to prevent transition of the disease. Homeless but comfortable, we are sitting out our plague time with the rest of the infected ones.

I pray the younger generation have learned something of themselves through this crisis.

 

ANGRY SNOW FLAKES

When I see the genrations od Americans. I see that each generation has some great commision, some existential crisis that defines that gneration. I feel the last two generations, having no great depression, cold war, or Viet Nam Conflict have abeen deprived of the crucible of character. The crucible is always the same. Struggle, for something greater than ourselves…

 

THE WORK OF DEMONS

Just when I think the left can’t get any worse, they prove me wrong and do something so hideous and beyond the pale, that my mind cannot swallow it in without gagging. There is an alarm that goes off when your average adult hears a child cry out. You can feel it in the pit of your stomach, as a nausea born of an urgency to act takes hold. this call to action cannot be denied in the average human being. Only something less than human or more than human can stand against the cry of a child.

SUCH ARE THE FEELINGS THAT TEAR AT MY HEART WHEN I HEAR THAT THE DEMS, LED BY PALOSI, ARE DELIBERTLY DELAYING PASSAGE OF LEGISLATION THAT WOULD RELIEVE THE SUFFERING OF FELLOW AMERICANS. And, as much as that, I grieve the loss of the foundation of the greatest democracy history has ever known.

 

 

SHUT UP AND GET BACK IN LINE……

Palestine, as well as Somolia are well represented by Ms. Omar, who has a convoluted trail of Quasi, pseudo, spurious, whole- cloth fabrications that serve, when needed, as marriages. With a little misdirection of campaign funds these marriages turn  tidy a profit for Ms. Omar. and her various consorts. CONSORTS ILLUSTRATED BELOW…

HOW DO I GET OUT OF THIS CHCKENSHIT OUTFIT?

 

BACK HOME

Just one paycheck from living on the streets|. Of two breadwinners in my home, one has been injured and and is unable to work. The dominos fell and now Deb and I are living gratis, under a roof provided by my one of my daughters. Deb and I own a tent, but would like to keep FROM living in it, as the horizon of our third decade wed approaches. We must move on in a few days, What happens next is the business of the future. 64 years old, a limp from right leg mutilated in a farm accident fifty years ago, peripheral neuropathy both numbing and burning my extremities. And I am on oxygen. My dear spouse, Deb, labors under her own maladies. Sciatica, lordosis and a torn rotator cuff start the list for her.

The transition has been a tumble through a cheese grater factory,soul and heart shredded,  two sad portraits of Dorian Grey and our nerve stretched to the sticking point. Civility was the best we could do, charm, reassurance  and empathy are far beyond our grasp as we walled up and waited for the next disaster.

Deb and I have been in the same harness, facing the same fears, fighting the good fight together. Morning sunrise comes hard when your quest is a search for a place to lay your road-weary bones and you don’t know where the next plate of beans is coming from. It was on one of these grey mourning’s that I lay, eyes closed, dreading the dawn, that I learned an important lesson on values.

A tiny hand.

Cool like satin and smooth as silk. Took my hand and whispered……

Something only I will hear

something that warms my heart and steels my soul against the world

I a so glad you are  here to help me find my way Deb.

What Happens Next

The nasty little bully pictured below has gone so far as to suggest our natural sexual identities are our natural sexual identities. “The nerve!” There seems to be a world “in here” within which I can snuggle and hide from the harsh, hurtful world, “out there.” In my limitless ignorance I still believe those who possess a penis and testicles are male, and those persons sporting a vagina and womb are female. It goes like this, if I really want to be a bird. I want to be a bird so much that I believe there has been some mistake and that my assignment on earth has been flummoxed and I have been attributed  the wrong species. Now I can be certain that I am dead right and that what I see in the mirror is just a hallucination born of a serious case of body image distortion. I believe this as I stand with my toes hanging ten off a hundred foot cliff. I step from my perch.                                            What happens next?               for more KLIKDAPIK

Candace Owens testifies during a House Judiciary Committee hearing discussing hate crimes and the rise of white nationalism on Capitol Hill on April 9, 2019, in Washington, D.C.

CANDACE OWENS ONE OF THE GOOD GUYS OR RATHER ONE OF THE GOOD GALS!

Not Your Stepping Stone


The little vid below illustrates the true sentiments of the younger generation in Iran these days. Most of the non-participants were yet born when, in ’79 the Shaw of Iran was deposed and the theocracy that sits as a carbuncle on the ass of the planet was installed. For the last 40 years it has been a regular activity for huge crowds of Iranians to gather for Friday prayers and chant death to America the Great Satan! AND DEATH TO Israel, THE LITTLE SATAN!  Walking on the painted flags of the U.S. and Israel has also been a regular activity through the years. The fact that most of the people pictured are avoiding stepping on old glory is very significant. The simmer has become a slow boil. HMMMM? I wonder what’s next.