Pa Jack and Miss Daisy

Today I go back to LA. (Lower Alabama) I had hoped to be spending thanksgiving there but we have to spend the first part of the week instead. The picture is of Pa Jack and Miss Daisy. As you know, we lost Pa a couple of months ago. Now we go to lay Miss Daisy to rest. I believe that sick as they both were they kept going for each other, and lose of one was the lose of both. In any relationship there are highs and lows and times when you just want the other one to be quiet. As time goes by some problems can be quite serious and require a lot of work. I can only imagine what it took to be married sixty seven years. We learn methods of coping, such as selective hearing and maintain private spaces even if only in the mind.
I was having a conversation with a friend yesterday about religion. I’m not sure he is a believer but that is for a future chat. I told him that I believe in the hereafter but wouldn’t want to state just what that entailed. When Jesus said, “In my fathers house there are many mansions” He didn’t tell us what they looked like or contained. We don’t even know where this place is. What I do know is that Pa and Daisy are once again together. I am a member of an Internet list that is comprised of mainly Christians and I thought of them this week. I even thought of asking their prayers in support of Miss Daisy as she fought (maybe) for her life. I then decided that they pray too much and for silly things having lost sight of how and what we were supposed to pray for. My answer came as it always has from the nun that taught me how to pray many years ago.
Our father who art in heaven hallowed be thy name; Thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our sins as we forgive those that have sinned against us. Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil. Amen. The line about thy will be done is a statement of fact, an affirmation not a request. I prayed for acceptance of that will.

I'm Back

Well we are back from our weekend in Pigeon Forge Tennessee. I thought we were getting a quiet weekend in the mountains but found myself in the biggest tourist trap for families on the east coast. The traffic was bumper to bumper and stop and go most of the time but we were almost on top of Dollywood the amusement park. The house we rented was very nice but sat between two small hills so it stayed dark late into the morning thus causing Tom to sleep til nine at least.The pic is of a covered bridge that was built in 1875. Yes we drove across it.

John and Jean Paul Sartre

"Every existing thing is born without reason, prolongs itself out of weakness, and dies by chance".

John I want some of what you're smoking! Quoting a Marxist loser with that? Knowing that I'm an inbred savage that never went to university might explain some of my derision, but maybe not. We have some grads that read this blog and I hope someone wants to help out with a discussion. As for the quote above I might agree with the middle "prolongs itself out of weakness" but the rest is trash. Way to godless for me. Having seen the unseen and known the unknowable I have learned there is a reason for every hair on my head as well as every baby that dies. I don't much believe in chance when it comes to death either. I believe in a warm woman on a cold night, and a cold beer on a warm night. I believe that every sunrise was put just where it was just for me by a benevolent being. Yours are a bit different then mine just for you. I believe that when death comes I will have had a part to play in it and that it won't be the end. I don't believe that I have any knowledge of what comes next or who will be there. I know without a doubt that I have seen into the future enough to affect its outcome hence the knowledge that there is one more powerful then me. I believe everyone must live with their own burdens and that we can lighten or increase the loads. I'll give a short example. Yesterday I was sitting eating my lunch in an interior room at work when a young and plump woman came in crying and begging for money for food. My first thought was just another ghetto dweller preying upon the rest of us. I gave her a couple of bucks just to get her out, knowing that she would just go get a beer or two. She got real happy and the tears vanished like magic as did she. I believe she went and got a couple of King Cobras and that is for her to live with. I believe I gave her enough to get a meal at the Hardees and I have to live with that! I don't have to live with having told her no and to get the hell out. I believe there is no such thing as nothing.

The Jena six and racism

I wonder if any of you are following the plight of the Jena six. They are the six young black teens that were arested for beating a white student in Jena Louisianna. They were originally charged with assault with intent to kill I think. They now face lesser charges and the theme of the protests in Jena is to let them go. It seems Blacks don't get equall justice in the south! The blacks and whites have their own seperat stories for sure but I gotta wonder where we are when six people can beat until unconcious using fists and feet, and someone wants us to let them go. I was listening to Reverand Al Shithead saying that the one still in jail wanted a peaceful demonstration, not even any name calling so as not to disparage his name! Uhh disparage his name? Dude I hate to tell you this but this is your second arrest for assault! This makes you nothing more then a thug that needs to be locked up. I saw his mama crying as she left the courthouse when they wouldn't let him out. There comes a point when you switch from socking a guy in the nose to trying to kill him. Seems to me that when you get your feet involved while the person is unconcious you've crossed the line. Had I been that boys Daddy I'd have shot you like the rabid dog you acted. But what do I matter, I'm white.

I've used this picture before, and have chosen to use it again. The reason is simple. This is one of my favorite spots on earth! (so far) This is home turf for me, not where I grew up but where I'm from. This is a lighthouse on the great inland sea, and you are looking toward Duluth Minnesota some four hundred miles west toward the setting sun. Behind you some fifteen miles is Whitefish point with all of its tourists and museum. Notice that there is no one in the pic. We, my wife and I and daughter had the beach to ourselves as far as the eye could see on this August day.
What you don't see is just beyond the lighthouse is a few driftwood logs washed up from some long ago storm or the winter ice cap. Upon one of the logs is a leather chair with the back legs broken off creating a slight reclining pose facing west to the setting sun. I have no idea who put the chair there but I know a bit of what they're thinking. To spend any day on Lake Superior is to commune with the raw power of god. To do so in isolation as can be done here is to recharge the soul. I like to look out at the water here knowing that I'm looking at a graveyard.
This is the shipwreck coast. I've always had an affinity with old graveyards, has something to do with respect for the past and its inhabitants. The person that put that chair on that log was watching the sun set on another perfect day and trying to drag every minute out of it. In the summer there it gets dark very late, about ten or later so there is lots of day to have. One might wonder why I've brought all of this up but there is a point. I have decided not to look west at the setting sun no matter how beautiful, and not to look out upon the past wrecks of many lives but to turn the chair! I have been blessed with a string of beautiful sunsets so long that I've forgotten how bright the dawn. Lets take a look.

Ramblings Two

Have you ever noticed how many people stay for years in a relationship that is going nowhere and doesn't bring any joy to their lives? I'm not talking about people that put up with run around Ron or Rachel, just normal people that don't really have anything but history going for them. I wonder when contentment turns to just plain tired. I wonder how one faces a gaff like the beauty queens and continues to move forward. It seems to have a good bit to do with the perception of risk and reward that everyone faces each day. Sometimes we can't get moving because we don't see the light at the end of the tunnel. Sometimes it's just easier to stay put rather then risk the gains of yesterday for the promise of tomorrow that we can't see. As for our beauty queen, I might not think much of what it is you do and doubt your ability to make it in this world without your looks but I damn sure admire the effort. I remember reading that Henry Hudson while at a dinner function with the movers and shakers of Detroit and the automotive scene said that he was starting his own company with fifty million dollars to get it going. Even then no one said much, but one voice said "give that man one white chip!" He thought he had a kings ransom but couldn't even make it to the second hand before he went bust. Bet he wished that he had stayed pat. No one has seen Steve Fossett in a few days......I think he might should have stayed put. Then there is Bill Gates........ Never mind. I don't know the difference between living life to its fullest and being a damn fool but I hope we do it just the same.

Ramblings

I had been thinking lately about why some people seem to go farther then others. This seems especially true when one applies the Peter Principle. The Peter Principle has it that we promote the stupid in an effort to get them out of the way instead of firing them. I've been wondering why some people seem so contented with their station in life. (This has at times included me) I wonder why we aren't teaching entrepreneurial skills as well as math in school. I wonder when we began to use one point in a life to determine the value of a human being. I wonder how one is to see the value of the people around them, to spot the good with the bad. I live in the great state of South Carolina. Yes even the same county as the latest news maker, Miss Lauren .
I have watched the teachers of our great state take it on the chin for this gals gaff. I will tell you that I know and am friends with five teachers in Lexington County and not a dumb ass in the bunch! Not one! As for the young lady, the jury is still out on your intellect. I'll tell you that I don't think being in a pageant helps you at all! Your comments were not your own, just some PC talking points that came out in a moment of extreme stress. Time to learn a hard lesson about when to shut up. The idea of being a model doesn't seem to me to be much of an ambition but I guess it pays better then being a mechanic. (I like to think I provide a personal service though) So when does a life end? When do we stop reaching and just plug on to the end that awaits us all? At what point do I stop taking classes and stop trying to better my knowledge not only of my trade but the greater world? I spent seven years working in a state (not this one) office complex as a vending machine / counter person. I was going nowhere and loved every day I spent with those people.
Why?
Continued

Pa Jack

I wanted to talk about another kind of Hero. One of the type that didn't get enough recognition for the jobs he had done over the years. He is Pa Jack, or just Pa. I first met Pa about ten years ago at the funeral of my wife's Mother. Pa was her brother in law. Pa's place is on about eighteen acres of red clay in LA. That's Lower Alabama to all you northern folks. In years past he had a junk yard in his back yard but it was mostly gone by my time. I have a set of heavy springs from it that Pa gave me to hang my swing on so that it would be comfortable. Out back of the yard was a gravel pit that he owned. He sold the sand, clay, and gravel out of that hole for fifty cents a yard to any that would come and dig it. Most people would find a hole of several acres in their back yard to be an ugly thing but I loved walking in the pit when I was there. Pa didn't walk with me by then because of his legs. He had lived a hard seventy seven years at that point but he would tell me where the deer were likely to be and ask about any other tracks I might have seen. He and I watched my beloved Wolverines lose to UCLA early in that season. He consoled me with a quick wait til next week, and then we watched his Crimson Tide. I'm a bit ashamed to say I don't remember who won that game! Pa was also a quiet fan of Auburn when his grand daughter went to school there. The reason for the junkyard was that Pa was a mechanic that worked out of his home. He worked on about anything. He didn't have the modern conveniences that I enjoy so if he needed something special he built it rather then bought it. No job was too large either, He told me of changing car body's out in the yard with the help of a tree and a friend!
Pa and his wife (Miss Daisy) raised three beautiful daughters that all turned out to be good decent loving human beings. They also had a part time daughter in the form of a niece. (my wife) He told the husbands of his girls, "You know where you found her! I spect you to remember where to bring her if you have a problem with her!" I got the niece so he was a lil bit softer with me but I knew not to cross him. One day I got to wondering where he had been and what he had done. Like anybody some of it was good and some bad but Pa answered any question I asked. He told me of going all the way to Ohio to work. Living in the cold to make a dollar about a million miles from what a Bama boy calls the real world, he did what he had to do to survive.
He was a proud member of the war effort in WWII. He wasn't a vet like so many were, but he did what he could. He worked on the aircraft. He installed the bomb sights in the Mitchell's. He may even have set up the sights on the planes used by Jimmy Doolittle and his Raiders over Tokyo. I saw Pa about a month or two ago while there on business, and as I went to leave he once again said to me to hurry back cause he wasn't going to hang around forever. I went to see him this week, any time with him warms my heart. As I placed my pallbearers boutonniere upon his casket I remembered, and I wished for one more football game, and one more talk.

Dog Fighting Two

Sorry it took me so long to get back to all of you but I've been busy, what with being herded around by this cat and all! So to continue; I got to my new home and promptly got into a bit of trouble. Dad raised his voice and I took off around the house and found an empty dog house to hide in. Dad tried to coax me out but I wouldn't come. After a bit he crawled in and hugged me and gave me a treat. I knew it was OK to come out. I've since learned that these people and other animals I share my home with are the best family a girl could have. So I was reading the news the other day (don't look at me that way, of course I can read! You see me writing don't you?) and I ran across the indictment of Michael Vick for dog fighting. I read all nineteen pages of it! It looks like they've got some shady characters willing to spill the beans on him. His lawyers may get him off but the deed as they say is done and the cat is at the food dish! Many southern men think of dog fighting as a sport, much like cock fighting and no big deal. Well it is just like cock fighting, but it's a big deal. Folks get hurt and die because of it. Both animal and human. The money for these endeavors come mainly from the sale and use of drugs. I know because I've seen it and can smell it a rabbits run away! Most damning is the knowledge that he had a rape stand on his property! This is a device that allows a breeder to breed females that are far too aggressive to let a male near them. This is only used for fighting dogs because no honest breeder will breed that kind of female! As far as the breed of dog goes I don't think most American Bull Terriers have evolved to the point that they can be considered any thing but fighting dogs. My test is to see if they are aggressive to humans (it doesn't matter the breed) and if so put them down.
In the case of Mr. Vick and his friends the truly heinous thing is what happens to the dogs that lost or refused to fight. As I heard on the radio this week Mr. Vick should be allowed to compete on the football field this year for the Atlanta Falcons. If he looses then it should be his turn to be electrocuted, or hung by the neck, or body slammed till dead. All of gods creatures deserve the love that I have, but not all creatures are gods.

Dog fighting

For those that don't know me, I'm Reeses the Doberman Pincher. I belong to Tom and Mrs C. Tom (my dad) calls me Beans because I'm a Red Doberman. He likes Cajun food and red beans is a favorite. I'm going to tell you a little bit about my life before I was rescued by the C's, I was trained to be obedient and took many a whoopin if I didn't understand what was asked of me. My master put a plastic garbage bag over my head and nearly killed me because I got into the garbage one night. Now I run at the sight of them though Tom tries to console me. Our job, my family and I was to guard a meth lab in Lexington county. The food was scarce and the love was non existent. As soon as I was able to have babies I was made pregnant by a dog named Brutus. I didn't have any choice in this matter. My pups were taken away at an early age and I've no idea what happened to them. One day the sheriff came to the property with a bunch of men and my master let us out of our kennels. I ran and ran. Hunger followed many days until I was picked up and put in doggy jail. I was in a cage with a lab named Bob that wouldn't shut up....ever! I think he barked in his sleep. I heard that I wouldn't likely be adopted out because of my breed. They only let Doberman rescue society members take us and their homes are full of all the dogs that were bred to fight and otherwise be mean and obnoxious. It soon came to my attention that some of the dogs were killed after a period in the kennels. Mostly the ones that can't be adopted out, like me. I learned that tomorrow was to be the day they put me down. All I could do was cry. About lunch time a man and two women came to see us dogs. Everyone got up and started yelling pick me pick me! I just stood there knowing I wouldn't be chosen but then they opened my cage and took me out! They took me out and left Bob in! I heard the old dogs whisper that the older woman was Miss Jo of the Doberman Rescue and she had brought Mr. and Mrs. C to see me! To make a long story short, I went home with Miss Jo spending the afternoon with her two dogs.At about five pm Mr. C came and put me in is car and took me to his house, the place I now call home. continued....

The Dance

Life it seems is one big dance between the predator and the prey. What most people don't realise is whom is whom. When I hold myself up to the mirror I see the prey, but I know the amount of havoc that resides within my soul. To see clearly I'm the predator..... or am I? The answer is the same for me as it is you, we are both. The degrees differ between the souls and the time of life.... (whats going on) but you can eat as well as be eaten depending on the day and the evil brought by said day. This all has to do with how I choose to view the beings that come into and out of my life. (if you aren't watching your fellow man then you're missing the greatest show on earth) I'd like to talk to you about some folks I've met in the ghetto where I work, some are prey and some are not. First up is a white male named Bill (name changed for his sake)that I think is a slightly deranged Viet Nam vet. Bill is about as self sufficient as anyone I've ever known, growing a wide variety of food on an inner city lot feeding himself and many others. Sometimes he has no choice as his watermelons are easy game. I have several fruit trees growing in my yard from his cuttings and whips. He is most definitely prey to those around him and has the bruises to prove it.
I met a man named Andre' the other day, as he wandered into the shop to get out of the rain. It is most unfortunate but any time a black man comes into our shop without a car you know he most likely has no good in his heart. When it is raining we don't give anyone a hard time as long as they stay out of the way and by the door. So in walks Andre' and he just keeps on coming and chatting all the way. I had some time to kill so I spent a few minutes talking to him. He told me that he was from Angola. He had made it to Texas about seven years prior and was now on his way to the upstate where a job was waiting for him. He was riding the big grey dog (Greyhound) but couldn't stay in the bus station due to the thugs and other elements there. I assured him that he would be safe in the shop until it was time for him to board. He then asked me why those black people didn't work. I told him that some were indeed working but that their work was to prey upon the weak. I can't begin to tell you how excited he was to be going on a new adventure and to have a job waiting. I hope god watches out for him as he is most certainly prey. We have a man that comes in to get water out of our water cooler from time to time. He is a black man with no legs, and so uses a chair to get where he wants to go. He has a business cleaning the wheels on cars in the college area by the bars and restaurants. What he is really up to is panhandling. He will sometimes begin to clean a wheel without asking and get you to give him money to stop. This works well on the lil college girls and the prim office ladies. He intimidates the hell out of them. I guess they're afraid he's going to jump up and chase them? So the local merchants got together and tried to have him run off. Said that he had no business license. No but what he had was a big gun lawyer that liked his wheels clean on his car, also liked the mans company at lunch sometimes. He has a license now! What he didn't have was a way to keep the rain off. I saw him the other day coming in from a gully washer. He looked at me and said he thought he'd drown before getting there. I gave him the umbrella out of my car for the next time he got caught out in the rain. I've no idea whether he is prey or predator.

The madman returns

Well after about three lost posts and a very busy time I've finally got a lil time and google working. I didn't get to do a fourth of July post but will mention that we went to a neighbors for a party. While there I got to talk to Sgt Don of the U.S. Army. The host threw his back out and Don stepped in to do the cooking for the whole crew.... about thirty people. Don will be leaving for a second tour in Iraq about the first of the year. I didn't ask very many questions about tour one because I didn't feel it was right. He did tell me that he was in Mosul in 03. I thanked him for his many years of service and wished him well. He did say one thing that I wasn't able to find the time to ask about.... He was glad to be going back to Iraq as opposed to Afghanistan. He did tell me that he tried to soak up as much history while there as he could. I did ask if the uso packs we send were appreciated and delivered in a timely manner. He replied that the packs were a godsend and the phone cards much needed. He went on to say they really depend on the USO.
In other news my Daughter and Son inlaw were in a wreck, totaling his new Ford truck. Both are ok (thank god) though Daughter was out of work for two weeks.
I'd like to mention a few charactors from the hood where I work but that will be for the next post.

Not worth a bullet

Crystal Ferguson was in the news again this week. She is one of the pregnant crack mothers that got arrested in Charleston in the early ninties for delivering crack to her baby. The supreme court agreed that her privacy was invaded with an illeagle search of her urine for drugs. Medical University of South Carolina tested her and found her under the influance of crack twice. The second time was at the birth of her baby Virginia. The hospital shared the results of the tests with the law and Crystal was arrested for child abuse. She sued and she won a settlement thanks to a bunch of female liberal lawyers that made her their poster child. Fast forward fifteen years and another child. Here we find her living in a trailer in Columbia SC getting a new start. She is home with her younger daughter and a house mate. A man comes into the house and throws gasoline at Crystal that hits a lit candle setting the place on fire. Leaving her to burn to death along with her younger daughter he takes the badly burned female house mate outside and rapes her. The liberal media want to portray Crystal as a victim and an all around good girl. The fact that she was a poor single black mother seems to excuse a lot. One would think that the crack and two children (without dads wasn't enough to wake her up about putting herself and kids in bad situations. I don't blame her for what happened to her on the last day of her life but I know what happens when you lay with dogs.
On another note we had three cars broken into at work thursday night. The glove boxes were open and contents scattered. A hammer was found lying near one of the cars. Just another crack head looking for change and something to sell. The cars were in a fenced in lot with razor wire on top and only accessable at the street. Even still we leave all of the doors unlocked so as to prevent windows from being broken. There is a reason it's called dope! Next time try the door handle!!!
It seems too many people out there arn't worth the price of a bullet.

Sy and others from the distance

I guess I should give you a bit of background before telling you this post. As you can see from the picture on my page I have very poor vision. It was decided that I would attend school at the blind school in my state starting with my fifth grade year. With a few exceptions it was a good move. I no longer had to suffer the daily taunts and picking of the other kids. Also as John likes to remind me, "in the valley of the blind the one eyed man is king." So any way.... I was on a Google list of alums from that school the other day and came across something that really cheesed me off. Under the title of "Thugs" someone had written some very ugly things about a man named Sy. Sy was our gym coach during my time there. He was the wrestling coach earlier then that. This person complained that Sy gave him a bad grade because he wasn't able to do a chin up. Claims Sy told him that he made him sick to the pit of his stomach. Fair enough, now it's my turn.
The first time I met Sy was when he dropped my older brother (also blind) off at the house after having been to a wrestling meet. Sy drove him all the way across a major city, then turning around and going back. My brother wasn't a very good wrestler (too slow between the ears) but he gave it what he could and never quit. Sy liked that in people. So we fast forward a couple of years to the fifth grade and I meet Sy on a professional level. One of the very first things he did was to put me in the pool to teach me the magic of swimming. It took him about two years to overcome my fear of water, never once yelling or getting impatient. Before he was done he had me diving and dragging a dummy off the bottom of the pool. I still have my Red Cross advanced swimmers card somewhere. Sy wasn't the first to try and teach me, he was the last. With his help I did a forward somersault off of the single bar. His arms stretched to catch me if I missed the landing. Climbing to the top of a pole we had hanging from the gym rafters and reaching out to grab a rope and crossing over to it and down. Teaching me the basics of wrestling so I might have some success as I got old enough to try it. I remember him lining us up to explain the use of a jock strap. He told us they were Chinese Nose Guards, and waited to see if someone would really try to put the leg straps behind their ears. I remember asking him about his Red Cross cards, he had one for a fifty mile swim. Not bad for a smoker. He told me that I too could get one of those, and I believed him. I know of his sorrows and losses. I know of his hugs after a bitter defeat to a bitter foe. I know of his making me go out and speak to same foe and shake his hand, acknowledging his effort and sportsmanship. I know that he was one of the ones that began to bring my head up and be confident in who I am. Thank you Sy.

My Baby

Last night I went to see my baby. It was her graduation night. A year late and a pile of tears but it's finished. She like her sister is a rare beauty, though hers is only outward. I have no more words for this my estranged daughter, all has been said. We don't speak and may never. I hope she finds her way in this world; with truth and honor to guide her. I doubt it. My heart breaks for all that could have been, and all that was lost. I see the bad choices and the bad people around you child but I pray you remain gods grace and gods promise as I have named you. I love you!
Dad

Fair Tax

So I went to a political rally for the first time at the suggestion of friend and reader of this Blog, Don. Last night in Columbia SC there was a debate between the hopefuls of the Republican party for president of this great land. They held it at The Koger Center for the performing arts. It is on the campus of The University of South Carolina. Across the street is The Carolina Coliseum. An old Basket Ball arena. On this night the old barn was full of tax reform minded people led by Neal Boortz and friend Sean Hannity. If you know Columbia at all you know that parking in the downtown area is nonexistent so I was expecting a major challenge to attend the event. Not so! About a mile up the road is the State Fairgrounds and Williams Bryce stadium. Lots of parking there! The folks at Fair Tax had a fleet of tour buses running back and forth all night. Never had to wait more then ten minutes for a ride. Mrs. C and I got to the coliseum with little trouble. Once inside we received a free T shirt and ball cap. We then proceded to our seats and found the signs that you see in the pic above. There was a rock band playing on the stage and the place was about two thirds to three quarters full! We got to hear from some of the candidates before the debate across the street. Tom Tancredo, Mike Huckabee, and Duncan Hunter. Hunter is going to receive my vote in the primary. I've known this for a bit but was still impressed with his knowledge of trade and immigration issues. Truth told we wouldn't do bad with any of those three as President. Other speakers were John Stossel of ABC 20 20, Ken Hoagland of Fair Tax, Neal Boortz and his half wit friend Sean Hannity. I was kinda surprised that the media didn't give the rally more time, as big as it was. After a while Neal led a march across the street to the debate in a show of force for the Fair Tax. It was about that time that I had to go home and to bed....you know....beauty sleep and all. I will tell you that I learned a lot and am now a supporter of the Fair Tax. I learned at the rally that Michigan is trying to pass the Fair Tax on a State level. If anyone is interested in the Fair Tax you can follow the link I put in above....if it works... ;) If not then Google Fair Tax, it's what I did.


Update.... Fair Tax emailed me and said there were 8000 plus at the rally. They will have pics and video up in a few days. I didn't provide any because my home connection is dial up.

Another thing that moves me

I love to watch the Osprey fish!

The boogy man

K so I know it was supposed to be about Jackson and race. Then came Virginia Tech. My oldest Daughter called me from San Diego with car trouble today. I'm grateful that her hubby was with her, and I was able to give advice over the phone that helped them out. (be patient there is a point)
I've always worried about the boogy man. Not for me, but in regards to my family. Tonight as I write this my wife is two states away on business and I'm not there to watch her back. Dear Daughter is across the Continent and I can't get to her either though Indigo Red can and I'd ask if I needed him. As children we learn that many things are false. Santa, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, ect ect. We're even taught that the Boogy Man is false. Well we kinda got that one wrong. The boogy man stars in all of the news broadcasts across the land. Some times he's black, or White, or Brown. Some times He's a friend or foe, and some times he is an old friend. I was reading about a gal in (I think) New York that was raped and tortured in her apt for 19 hours before the Boogy Man set fire to the place to hide his crime and left. Oh it was him alright, I'd know the sign anywhere. A creature of the night that appears out of nowhere to inflict pain and suffering on his victim. She used the fire to free herself, but I doubt that the fire will ever purge the memory from her mind. The other day he was at Virginia Tech, hiding in the mind of a tortured soul. May god grant those folks some peace. He has always been around, especially in war zones like Dar fur, Iraq, and Bosnia. He likes the smell of fear and death. He rapes lil girls as he has done in Florida, and kills old men just to watch the show. He seems to show up every day in Iraq, and he stares right into the face of the American military that refuses to blink. He cannot be defeated as he is an eternal being, however he can be subdued and foiled. As we go through this life we must make a choice, to be a victim or victor. When it comes to the Boogy man you must first believe. You must always be willing to fight, as the Israeli professor did by barring the door at the cost of his own life. You must always act!

Lets talk about race two

Day two and Imus was fired. Yes I'm psychic but didn't need it to see that one coming. D.A. Mike Nifong apologised today to the three young men he tried so hard to convict of rape. The "victim" didn't. I still don't know why Miss Crystal Gail Mangum doesn't face charges her self. Must be the stereotype again. No-one wants to be guilty of thinking it, and bringing a poor black stripper up on charges won't look good. good thing those fellas had a few million laying around for defence counsel. States Attorney General Roy Cooper dismissed the charges and called them innocent. Strong words from the prosecution. Nifong is in the fight of his life for his law license. So now the stereotype brings us to the right Reverend Al Sharpton, and Jesse Jackson. Boy I can just see the stereotype clawing at the door! Al as we may remember was the man that came to the aid of one "Tawana Brawley" when she stated she was raped by .... not one not two but... six white men, and held for four days. They found her covered in shit, and racial slurs written on her body in charcoal. Sorry gang, but if I was a white racist rapist with a penchant for writing racial slurs on black victims I'd use an off color.... say maybe WHITE paint? She fingered a local prosecutor named Steven Pagones. I don't know if she fingered anyone else. Turns out she was trying to hide the fact she was skipping school. It's been twenty years and Al still stands by her story. He won't apologise to god himself. Next we go to the right Reverend Jesse Jackson, and his group Rainbow Push, or as it's known in some circles.... Rent a Riot!

Lets talk about race

I keep hearing that we never have an honest discussion about race in this country. Part of the reason is that no-one wants to be told that some of the problem lies within ourselves. I'm going to express my thoughts on some issues that have a racial component. We are going to cover Imus, Sharpton, Jackson, Nifong, The black community, and Myself. Lets go back to Imus one more time, but briefly. What Imus was making fun of was a stereotype of Black Women that is often put out there by Black Men. He had every right to say the things he did, and probably felt there was at least some truth in his words. I hate that such a great achievement in the lives of those women will forever be tainted by his right to free speech. The market should have gotten rid of him years ago. He is now being fired by the people that pay his salary; The advertisers. Gee guys glad you could come on board....... It took how long? Over the years he has taken a whack at everybody so now we have some issue with it? Hmmm. What I find far more troubling is that he feels the way he does. What I find far more troubling is that even I to some degree, and many others are willing to accept the stereotype of not only the Black community but the Latin, and the Muslim. Stereotypes exist because of at-least some form of fact, but how much? So you want us white folks to respect you Black women. Which ones? The ones with the 70% illegitimate pregnancy rate? The ones with the 50% high school dropout rate? The ones that walk over from the bus station and offer fellatio for ten bucks? How about the ones that attend our nations colleges and universities and can't speak the English language! Got a news flash for you, Axe isn't the same thing as ask. Never was, and never will be. Lets not get pissy with the Mexicans for not speaking the English language when we don't require it of the Blacks. Dr. Rice uses her esses where they're supposed to be. Oh and another thing; If Nigger is wrong for us it's wrong for you too! While I'm at it, here's a question... Who kills more black people in the United states? White People or Black? Why am I angry about this? How does the stereotype affect us?
Nifong. Nifong sat on evidence that could clear three man of a horrible crime. Why? What was to gain from pissing off folks that were not only innocent but could buy a real defence. Damn fool likely will lose his license to practice law over what looks like a Ho! Don't like the term? Sorry but if you have the semen of multiple persons in you at one time (was it 3 or 5) and you're a stripper and you're telling people that a man raped you that wasn't even there at the time then by moms definition you'd be a whore. So why did Mike Nifong sit on this case? The answer is the stereotype. Had he dismissed it too soon he would be labeled a racist and begot and worse, would lose the Black vote. By sitting on the evidence he will gain the Black vote. It's all in the timing Mike! You know you have to let these guys go at some point but too soon and you lose. Too late and you lose. Guess what... Too late, you lose. Continued