Skip navigation

Tonight’s blog has to with media demagogue Glenn Beck, his followers—whom many call “Beckerheads”, blatant sexism and a blossoming Fascist movement.

During the past week, Mr. Beck, who is currently promoting his new book Arguing With Idiots, when he isn’t slandering United States Senators in a blatantly sexist manner—more on that later—announced he is moving into the political arena.
According to Beck, he plans to exploit the civil war within the Republican party by becoming a “community organizer” and “changing the course of America.

It is obvious that by “changing the course of America” as a “community organizer”, Beck means that he will bootstrap, gerrymander and bullshit his “tea-party” movement into a political party, eviscerating the GOP, much as that party did when it formed from the better members of the Whig party.

Beck, apparently taking this change stuff—and himself—too seriously, announced that he had a “100-year plan” for the United States.

When you see the cover of Beck’s book, the words “100-year plan” sound entirely too much like “1000-year Reich”.

During a weekend rally in Orlando, Florida, Beck also told a mass of admirers, “America, we cannot wait for a leader anymore. The people must leader, and the leader will follow”.

On Monday’s radio-show, Beck ratcheted the rhetoric up a notch, adding, “I’m going to teach you how to be a community organizer next year, oh, because two can play at that game. It’s time to find our teeth and sharpen our teeth, and we’re going to do it”.

Let’s remember that Hitler’s first attempt to take over Germany arose from a gathering at a beer-hall, and that upon his release from prison, he amassed an impressive number of SA, commonly known as “Brown-Shirts”.

Mussolini also arose from similar beginnings. He and the original Fascists rose to power by pandering to rural and ignorant Italians, rather than Romans, Milanese And Venetians, promising to return Italy to “its past glory” and “crack down on crime”. Impatient, he and his brethren in the National Fascist Party didn’t wait for this strategy to finish bringing them to power, and simply marched on Rome in a coup d’état.
Whenever someone was dumb enough to question Il Duce, one common reply was that “he made the trains run on time”.

Returning to Beck’s remarks about sharpened teeth, one might wonder whether he found inspiration in a 1928 speech by Mussolini, the most famous line of which is, “Let us have a dagger between our teeth, a bomb in our hands, and an infinite scorn in our hearts”.

You know? With the exception of the bomb, I can hear Beck, O’Reilly or Limbaugh saying that. Creepy.

In a similar display of mass stupidity, the “Beckerheads” gather round Beck’s tour-bus, wherever he may appear, fawning over him. In fact, while being interviewed by a TV network, one even called him a saviour.

Saviour of what? (I’m thinking the name of The Saviour, as I type this.)
This is the sort of slavish, mindless devotion from which Fascist movements are crafted. Like bread and biscuits, we need only wait for the germinating movement to rise. Actually, I think it’s already starting to rise. I’ll bet the dough-bowl is already a little warm.

As for Glenn Beck’s hypocritical sexism, it takes the form of what Keith Olbermann called “a bout of verbal diarrhea”.

On Saturday night, Mary Landrieu, the senior U.S. Senator from Louisiana—a state with many uninsured and underinsured residents—had the temerity to vote in favor of bringing the health-care reform bill to the Senate floor for debate.

Beck wasted no time, throwing two consecutive “below the belt” verbal punches against the conscientious Senator.
Yesterday, he called her a prostitute on his show.
Today, he reiterated his appalling appellation, remarking, “we know you’re hooking, but I guess you’re not cheap”.

(****sound of crickets chirping****)
That’s what we’re hearing from the GOP and other right-wingers, despite the blatant sexism of the remarks.

Do you know what would have happened, had Rachel Maddow or Keith Olbermann called Sarah Palin a hooker, remarked upon her “Pretty Woman” attire, her simpering—and limited—vocal style.

This is not over..

We cannot hold one side to a different standard than the other.

Likewise, we cannot blindly allow a broadcast personality—who may or may not be mentally-ill, depending upon your opinion—to lead us down a garden-path which may end in a poppy-field, tar-pit or briar-patch.

Imagine an old car which has been sitting in a meadow for long that a tree has grown, tall and thick, in the space occupied decades ago by its missing engine and hood.

Everyone agrees that it would be nice to restore the car.
Everyone has intended to do so, for as long as some of them have been alive, but no one has ever done it.

Finally, you decide to do it. You’re going to restore the car. After all, it’s sitting on your late grandfather’s land, and it is still a great car, despite the rust, opaque windows and hub-high sediment which has accumulated around it.

After talking about your plans at the neighborhood bar, you drive up beside the car, an aluminum ladder, fifteen metres of rope, a double-bit axe, twenty-litre can of gasoline and chainsaw in the bed of your pick-up.

As you get out of the pick-up, you notice a group of your neighbors—the ones who talked for decades about how the car should be restored, but turned not a tap—standing around three other pick-ups, drinking beer.

They immediately begin hectoring you: You haven’t brought enough gasoline. The chainsaw isn’t long enough. The ladder isn’t sturdy enough. That rope isn’t going to work. Your axe is dull.

Worse still, the group of loudmouths steals or hides each tool as you unload it., but after a protracted fight involving a few friends you call with your cell-phone, you manage to regain your tools.

Your neighbors continue to mercilessly hurl insults as you remove the tree, piece by piece, until the engine compartment is finally clear.
They wait until you slide under the car to attach tow-chains to the frame, and then begin kicking you in the balls as others in the group bounce on the rear-bumper, trying to break your ribs.

Luckily, they are all too drunk, you remembered to wear a cup and because it’s an old car, the ground-clearance is high enough that you only emerge with bruises.

After a protracted bout of fighting—you once again phone your friends—you manage to hook the chains to your pick-up’s trailer-hitch, inflate the ragged tires with a bottle of nitrogen and pull the car free.

You take the fine, but battered old car to a friend’s shop, where you will carry out the task of a frame-off restoration. You will bring this car back to its former glory.

The entire time you are working on the car, you have to contend with these “expert” neighbors, few of whom have ever done more than fill their cars’ gas-tanks and drive.

They throw rocks through the shop’s windows. They leave flaming paper-bags full of dog-crap on the driveway. On a few occasions, they even cut the lock on the breaker-box and turn the electricity off.

Despite their best—or worst—efforts, you eventually complete the restoration.
It hasn’t been easy, though. You had to rig a spray-booth inside the shop. Your friends had to bring you the parts as you purchased them, including the upholstery.

It’s been worth it, though. For the past few days, the group outside has grown progressively quieter and the car that formerly provided a home for a tree now looks as if it just rolled off of an assembly-line.

Misjudging your neighbors’ quietude for acquiescence to the reality that you’ve finally restored the car which everyone wanted to someday drive, but no one wanted to expend any effort upon, you roll open the shop’s main door and ease the car forward onto the driveway.

As you step out of the car to admire it in the sunlight, you suddenly realise that the group has simply been hiding along both sides of the shop.

One of them—a brash, ignorant man who had been particularly vituperative when you were cutting away the tree–shoots you in the chest with a large-caliber pistol, and everyone piles into the gleaming car.

Your vision begins to dim and you feel the heat draining from your body as the lazy thieves pull away with the product of your hard work.

The last thing you see is Kenworth truck destroying the car and killing everyone inside it.

For the thieves were so eager to escape with what was not theirs—that in which they had invested no real effort—that they blundered ahead, indifferent to the consequences.

They cared only about their short-term gain.

The car in this allegory is the United States, the protagonist is Barack Obama and the friends are the Democrats.

The heckling, drunken mob that ultimately resorts to thievery and kills the hardworking agent of restoration is the ultra-right.

I don’t just mean the GOP, but the “tea-baggers”, “birthers”, “death-panelists” and all those who would throw common decency and compassion under the bus for political gain.

When did it become patriotic to oppose the President because he is black, liberal, Democratic or whatever else he may be?
When did it become Christian to other Christians to pray for Obama’s death, for “his wife to be a widow and his children fatherless”?

When did it become Christian, patriotic or even acceptable to condemn society’s most vulnerable—children, the poor and the elderly—to lives of pain and misery, and deaths from preventable illnesses, in the name of “fiscal conservatism”?

The latest numbers show that the proposed health plan will lower our deficit during the next decade. It will increase productivity.

More importantly, what does it say about us as a nation, if we’re willing to do this?

On 26 September, I watched as more than two-thousand ill and fearful people crowded Houston’s Reliant Center, not for an exhibition of new technology or a chance to win a car, but the chance to see a doctor.

I saw natural-born U.S. citizens—most of whom were born in this very city—being treated in exam areas fashioned from curtains and cloth panels.

It was like being in a third-world nation, yet it was less than thirty kilometers from my parents’ house.

People received dental work, cardiac evaluations, treatment for diabetes and its related wounds. Some even received the news that it was too late; their cancers and cardiac disease could have been detected and treated with routine medical exams, but not now.

This scene has played out in other major cities, and has been funded by donations from a variety of organizations, including MSNBC.

During the past several months, I’ve noticed two things about the blistering, withering and increasingly deceptive criticism of the proposed health-care reform plan:

1—Those who yell the loudest tend to be well-insured. They tend to have stable employment, enjoy access to doctors, upon request and have nothing to lose from the health-care plan. I repeat…they have nothing to lose from the health-care plan.
We are trying to establish a two-tier system, not “socialized” medicine. These same scatologically fallacious arguments were used to oppose Medicare until it finally passed in the 1960’s

2—The Representatives, Senators and media pundits who criticize the plan the loudest haven’t anything constructive to say.
It’s easy enough to stand on the sidelines, beer in hand, and scream at players about their mother’s sexual prowness or their incestuous proclivities. Drunken football and baseball fans do this with depressing regularity.
It’s quite a different thing to say “no, that isn’t right…let’s do it this way”.
The right has offered no plan, no ideas to modify the proposed plan, other than attaching an amendment effectively banning abortions.

I welcome any criticism which my friends on the right may feel to be relevant, but it must be constructive criticism.

I do not want to hear:
1—The gospel according to Glenn Beck, Bill O’Reilly or Rush Limbaugh.
2—Anything Orly Taitz, Andrea Mackris, Representative Virginia Foxx, Sarah Palin or Representative Michele Bachmann have to say.
3—Anything from an Astroturf organization. (FreedomWorks and the 60 Plus Association are notable examples of this U.S. political subspecies.)

In short, I want a factual refutation of the plan, and by that, I mean you must have an alternative for every detail to which you object.

Think of this as a term-paper.

In fact, I don’t care if your response is lengthy enough that it requires a blog-entry.

Just send me the link to the blog, keep it open so that I may reply, and expect me to repost my reply on my blog.

While driving my mother home from using her Kohl’s gift-card, a red Nissan 370Z passed me going 20 km/h over the speed-limit.

Despite the driver’s haste, that wasn’t what caught my attention about the car.
It had no license-plates, either front or back, nor did it have a dealer’s tag in the window.

I watched in stunned amazement as the red Nissan pulled slightly ahead of a Harris County Deputy Sheriff and cut over into his lane with less than a metre to spare…and there were no lights.

No lights. No siren. The deputy just let him go on his merry way.

My curiosity piqued, and the speed-limit and licensing of automobiles apparently being in abeyance, I accelerated and followed the car, wanting to see just how far this asshole would get. It was on my way home, anyway, so what the hell?

I followed that guy for 20 km, until I finally had to turn off toward my house, and the strangest thing was that about 2 km before the turn-off, I saw a rapidly approaching black 370Z in my side mirror.

That car also had no front license-plate, but I didn’t get to see whether the back plate was also absent.

I’m from New Mexico, so I don’t really believe in front-plates. NM hasn’t used them since 1970, and it gives people a chance to have personalized plates. Mine used to say something I can’t repeat in a blog.

That aside; the absence of license-plates in Texas isn’t a rarity.
Beginning in 2008, I noticed an abundance of hand-lettered—the expiry date—paper-tags with “untitled vehicle” stenciled across the top.

I immediately had three questions:
1—If it’s not your vehicle, why are you driving it?
2—If it’s not your vehicle, who is carrying the insurance? (You cannot insure a vehicle, unless it’s in your name.)
3—If it’s not that person’s vehicle, how the hell do the police know it isn’t stolen?

So, here’s how the scam works:
1—Buy a vehicle from a “pay-by-the-week” dealership. (A real hit with the unlicensed, uninsured crowd.)
2—Pay for the abovementioned tag.
3—When that tag expires, pay for another, ad infinitum.

I’ve never actually been in a jurisdiction which allows untitled, uninsured vehicles on the road.
In NM, any vehicle found to be on the roads without valid title, registration or insurance is subject to immediate impoundment.

Thing is, I have an idea. It’s same one used by the UK, but with a twist.

We’ve all seen these bright, clear signs, which have the ability to display different messages, haven’t we?
The pixels in those are LEDS, the same sort used in the taillights of high-end luxury-cars.

Let’s shift registration of automobiles to the US-DOT, much as the registration of aircraft is under the FAA.

All vehicles, beginning with the 2012 model year, should be required to have a 75cm by 20cm LED screen incorporated into the location normally occupied by the license-plate and powered by the wiring which would normally go to the plate-light.

The front-screen could be wired into the DRLs.

Upon arriving at the dealership—for domestically manufactured vehicles—or a North American port—for foreign-manufactured vehicles—a SIM card would be inserted into a port under the dashboard of each vehicle, the door to which would be glued shut, and the removal of which would be a second-degree felony.

The registration would be renewed each year, when the emissions-control people plugged into the vehicle during the annual inspection, and you would be offered the option of renewing for a period of one to four years.

Such vehicles would also have the same cellular communications capability found in such offerings as GM’s “On-Star”, allowing the car to receive “update” signals from each state or province’s department or ministry of transportation.

The result of this would be that the LED screens would revert to a purple field and flashing yellow text reading “UNINSURED”, within twelve-hours after the lapse or cancellation of any policy covering the vehicle.

The screens would only display the unique license-number within the SIM card, upon payment of any premiums or fines.

The SIM card would go with the car, from owner to owner, until the car was crushed and shredded.

“What has President Obama actually accomplished?” said Michael Steele, chairman of the Republican National Committee.

“It is unfortunate that the president’s star power has outshined tireless advocates who have made real achievements working towards peace and human rights.”
In a development which surprised everyone, including U.S. President Barack Obama, he won the 2009 Nobel Peace Prize.

President Obama won the prize for a variety of reasons, one of which was his ability to marshal support for a ban on nuclear weapons.

I don’t care if you agree with the decision, but at least show the honor some respect. I remember when being named a Nobel laureate was a good thing…a high honor.

I will post some of the critiques, prefaced by a letter of the alphabet. At the bottom of the blog, I will post each letter, followed by the name of the person who uttered the comment.

Why such a “Mickey Mouse” thing? I want you to guess which responses came from Democrats, GOP, the terrorist-linked Hamas and Taliban, and a certain foreign government.

A—”We are not upset and we hope that by receiving this prize he will start taking practical steps to remove injustice in the world. If he removes the veto from the United Nations Security Council, then it shows the prize was given correctly to him.”

B—”He has done nothing for peace in Afghanistan … We condemn the award of the Nobel Peace Prize for Obama.”

C—”Under any circumstance an appropriate response is to say congratulations,”

D—”What’s Obama done? What peace has he negotiated? … I suppose an organization that thought Yasser Arafat worthy of the same prize can’t be taken seriously anyway. But they are.”

E—”Obama has a long way to go still and lots of work to do before he can deserve a reward. Obama only made promises and did not contribute any substance to world peace.”

F—”I’m not sure what the international community loved best; his waffling on Afghanistan, pulling defense missiles out of Eastern Europe, turning his back on freedom fighters in Honduras, coddling Castro, siding with Palestinians against Israel, or almost getting tough on Iran,” Barrett said.

G—”I did not realize the Nobel Peace Prize had an affirmative action quota for it, but that is the only thing I can think of for this news,” Erickson wrote. “There is no way Barack Obama earned it in the nominations period. “

A—Ali Abkar Javanfekr, media aide to Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad.

B— Zabihullah Mujahid, a Taliban spokesman

C— Minnesota Gov. Tim Pawlenty.

D—Rick Moran in his blog on American Thinker.

E—Sami Abu Zuhri, a Hamas official

F—GOP Rep. Gresham Barrett, who is running for governor of South Carolina.

G—Erick Erickson, writing on the conservative

That’s right:
There were no Democrats on the list—I punked you on that—and the Islamic Republic of Iran had more respect for the Nobel—and President Obama—than the Republicans. In fact, the Republicans, Taliban and Hamas sounded alike.

Remember that when you vote next year. The GOP sounded like the Taliban and Hamas.

A loss of civility, why we have rules and what happens when they are disregarded

Yesterday, I watched David Gregory’s Meet The Press interview with His Majesty, King Abdullah II of Jordan. (I’m obviouslly not Jordanian, but I strive to be polite, hence the use of his title.)

Two things stood out about him, compared with other mideast leaders:
1–His intelligence and calm. In stark contrast to Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, who denies the holocaust and waxes borderline orgasmic when discussing possible attacks on Israel, King Abdullah II is cordial, fairly soft spoken and projects an air mental stability. There were no rants of ‘death to Israel’.

2–King Abdullah explictly endorsed the so-called ‘two-state’ solution. At the same moment, on ABC’s This Week, Ahmadinejad was the very definition of disingenuity, wriggling like a worm on a hook whenever George Stephanopoulos questioned him about the same strategy for mideast peace.

For those who don’t know, the term ‘two-state solution’ refers to a proposed Palestinian state, independent and equal to Israel.

Close, but no cigar!

I propose a ‘three-state’ solution, in the form of either an Israeli-Palestinian Federation or Israeli Federation

It would take the following form:
1–The State of Israel. Israel without the Palestinian Territories and Tel Aviv as its state capital.
2–The State of Palestine. This Palestine would be different than the present Palestinian Territories.
The map below shows the way things are today, with–in essence–‘West Palestine’ and ‘East Palestine’.

This really untenable. You can’t have a nation divided by another nation between its halves. This situation is what led to the present situation, where ‘Gaza’ Palestine is Hamas controlled, but ‘West Bank’ Palestine is Fatah controlled. They’re essentially two different nations.
In the interest of stability, the following land-swap should occur.

Israel would absorb ‘Gaza’ Palestine, which is only twice the area of Central Park, ceding the blue areas to a unified Palestine with its capital as either Ramallah or Nablus.
In the State of Palestine, all territory–including the settlements, most of which violate international law–would be under Palestinian control.

3–The third state would be the City-State of Jerusalem. In addition to being a self-governing entity along the lines of Singapore, it would also be the Federal capital.
Jerusalem is the third rail of religion, politics and culture. Any attempt to divide it is doomed to failure, just as the Berlin Wall didn’t work.
Jerusalem is indivisible. The only solution is that it revert to its original status as a city-state.

The Federation–Israeli-Palestinian, Palestinian-Israeli or whatever–would have a representative government, those representatives to be determined by periodic census. (Sound familiar?)

The flag of this federation would look nothing like either the Israeli or Palestinian flags. Those flags would belong to the states. The federation would need a completely new flag as part of a completely new beginning.

Before you shoot the idea down, give it some thought. I’m proposing a true compromise…nobody gets exactly what they want, but everyone gets what they need to survive.

A few weeks ago, Cindy, a friend who happens to teach in Los Angeles, asked me to write about a teacher who inspired me.

For those of you who have read the Hitchhikers’ Trilogy, the past few weeks have been roughly equivalent to Zaphod going into the booth and glimpsing the entire universe.

(Those of you who know the dollars and cents of my stay in British Columbia can a much more in-depth explanation.)

Anyway…ten days ago, an article appeared about a science teacher being honoured for her skill and dedication.

It wasn’t just any science teacher.  It was Laura Greer!
She definitely made an impression and a difference…especially the impression.

She’s fifty-three now, but she was twenty-eight or twenty-nine when I knew her.

Here’s how I met her, with the exception of seeing her at an assembly.

The first day of grade-nine physical science, I walked into the classroom, the wooden floor squeaking with every footstep–totally uncool–and saw a young woman who looked like Ann Wilson in her Dreamboat Annie days.
(Those of you born too late for this to make sense; just know that she looked a lot like Lily Allen.)

I took a course syllabus from her, sat down and concentrated on not looking at her for reasons apparent to guys.

After everyone had filed in and she had taken roll, she turned on the gas-burner on her desk, scooped some Tide laundry detergent into a flask and jammed the end of a metre-long pipette into it.

“I believe in making science interesting.” Mrs. Greer announced, her grin hinting at something better than a boring textbook. “By the way; never do any of the things you’ll see me do. I’m a professional.”

She stuck the loaded end of the pipette about ten centimetres from the flame and blew through it, causing a ball of fire to belch forth as the detergent ignited like rocket fuel.

That was just the beginning!

From her, I learned the following:
The elements of the periodic table. I already knew some of it, but memorising the table had been doomed, as the only one I had was in a set of encyclopaedias.
She gave each of us a copy of the table, which I still have. It’s a bit worn, but I don’t use it much. I committed it to memory.
(It is for this reason, that upon encountering something with a chemical formula indicating that it was basically antimony hexafluoride with an accompanying hydrogen ion, I immediately realised it was the most powerful acid ever invented. Organic material literally disappears in a puff of smoke and heat. Just take my word for that.)

That alcohol has an acetate group in it. (Reverse ‘h’ and ‘o’, revealing ‘COOH’…the basic chemical formula for acetate.)
This is a good thing to remember when you’re listening to Sweeny Todd, The Who or anyone else while drinking. You just stick to vodka or everclear and drink plenty of water. It’s that acetate group and the fusel oils found in ‘non-clear’ liquors that gives you the killer hangover.

That terminal velocity on Earth is 9.6m/s².
(In fact, this is where my father and I began to significantly diverge.
He said, “You mean thirty-two feet per second.”
“Whatever.” I replied, implying that he was stuck in the past.)

I learned that zero kelvins (or kelvin, if you prefer) is absolute zero. My father being a ‘Rankine’ person, didn’t budge. Oh well.

I also learned that temperature is the measure of the kinetic energy within a system.
(If you doubt this, feel free to spray your wheels with a water-hose after a long drive. You’ll see a lot of steam. Of course, if you just run the water directly on the rotors, they will very likely shatter, hence my mention of spraying. This is also one reason that high-velocity ammunition does so much damage.)

In short; this was the point where a kid from rural New Mexico quit thinking as such and began turning into me.

This was where I began simultaneously thinking of things in metric and US units.
(True story: When I drove my car through the Peace Arch Crossing, the Canadian border officer handed my license back to me and said, “We use the metric system. 110 means roughly seventy, not one-hundred ten miles per hour.”
To which I replied, “I’m American, but I’m not stupid. I’ve always driven on the metric system. I’ve used it since I was fourteen.”)

I was able to say that, thanks to Laura Greer.

It was only her second year as a teacher, but Laura Greer made us think!
Each of us had to write a report on an element–mine was bismuth, although I almost chose antimony–and read it.
Each of us had to choose a project for the science-fair and build it.
(I originally chose a ‘shotgun-mic’, but I couldn’t afford the supplies and my father had a TV kit lying around–another blog–so I changed my project to a colour TV.)
She did not hide behind the desk like many other teachers, but stood in front of it, hands clasped behind her back as she swayed slightly, side-to-side like a skier–turns out that she was–ready to help any student–even offering limited assistance on exams–and pounce upon any would-be cheats.

I say “pounce,” but she wasn’t really pouncing or even moving that fast, as she was in the last trimester of her pregnancy–with her son, Adam, if my memory serves me properly.

I remember her as a very funny, approachable person.
I remember her talking of how she hoped to someday have a lab of her own as a research chemist.
I also remember her talking about her hobby of restoring old furniture–stripping and reapplying finish, et cetera–which stuck in my head. Such a hobby was normally the province of fathers and grandfathers, not beautiful young women.

Laura Greer also entered the lexicon of my personal language.
When the Pamela Smart, Mary Kay Letourneau, Pamela Rogers Turner and Debra Lafave cases forced their way into the media, I would always say, “Sex with a teacher? My God! There weren’t even any of mine I would’ve wanted to see in a swimsuit…except…for Mrs. Greer and, even then, sex never crossed my mind!”

I’ll tell you another thing which was different; religion.
It simply wasn’t mentioned in school.
I was in a science class, not a theology lecture.
She–as were most of my other teachers–was married, so I assumed she was a Christian. I couldn’t tell you if she was Baptist, Methodist, Catholic or even an Atheist. We didn’t talk about that sort of thing.

This blog seems to be running a lot longer than I’d intended, so I’ll wrap things up.

Mrs. Greer left at midterm, and another excellent teacher–of whom I’ll soon blog–who can best be compared to Holly Hunter in “Saving Grace” took her place.

I’m very happy that Laura Greer returned to teaching.
Losing someone like her would have been a detriment to education; her honours are well-deserved and I wish her many more happy years in the classroom.

Most people would think that Jesus Christ first asked that question…and they would be wrong.


Genesis 4:9 “Then the Lord said to Cain, ‘Where is your brother Abel?’ ‘I don’t know,’ he replied. ‘Am I my brother’s keeper?'”

I have no brother, but answering ‘no’ would also answer a timelier and intrinsically related question.

Am I my nation’s keeper?

Yes, I am.

It’s ironic that a quote from history’s first recorded murderer should underpin the concept of social responsibility, yet it does.

First, please allow me to digress; I promise it is relevant.

I know that it’s been quite some time since I last touched base with my Friends of The Geneva Convention group, but it isn’t for either a dearth or paucity of material.

I’ve been overwhelmed! It’s been like standing a metre behind an elephant, so much has come out since 20 January!  I simply haven’t known where to begin.

Then, after remembering something my grandfather had done, I decided citizenship and civics would be a good place to begin.

I am a keeper of the Republic!
Every U.S. Citizen is vested with a share of the Republic, whether at birth or naturalization. ‘We The People’ own the United States of America. My citizenship-and yours, if you have it-grants me one three-hundred-ten millionth ownership of the USA.


Most Americans falsely believe that the phrase, ‘Keeper of the Republic’ only applies to police officers, members of the military and employees of intelligence organizations.


These didn’t exist on 19 April, 1775.

(Hold those comments about the Declaration of Independence being dated on 4 July, 1776.)


19 April used to be celebrated as ‘Patriots’ Day.’

It’s the day some guys-that’s what they were…’some guys’ who formed the Massachusetts Militia-fought the losing battle of Lexington, just after sunrise and, after regrouping for lunch and other things, fought the winning battle of Concord.

It’s the day the American Revolution began, after the colonists realized that they had a stake in their society’s future…stake that worthy of a stand which sometimes ended in death.

Last year, I was heartened to see a resurgence of the citizen ‘Keepers of the Republic.”

We rose, shook off a mendacious government which did not represent us, our values or interests and voted in numbers not seen for decades.


We were the worthy heirs of the Patriots, Militiamen and Minutemen.


Where are you? (***sound of my voice echoing inestimable times***)


It’s like the Chinese aphorism that a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.


We took one hell of a step, but the GOP stragglers have laid out tripwires and buried quite a few ‘bouncing betties’ in the path of change.

That much vaunted stimulus package? It might as well have included ‘French ticklers and tubes of Astroglide for every recipient.

Obama allowed it to be dealed away and whittled into a half-measure, and any physics student can easily explain that moving half the distance again and again leaves you forever shy of your goal.

President Obama did this because he’s still afraid of breaking a promise. Remember when he promised to be bipartisan?


Keepers of the Republic! Those of you who caucused, campaigned, voted, campaigned even more and finally voted in November, America needs you to raise your voices again!


We elected a majority in the House and Senate. We gave President Obama everything he could want! Now, we must give him permission to ram through the real change.

We must have universal health care!

We must have widespread infrastructure spending!

We must have stem-cell research!

We must tell the government to halt discrimination against gays and stay out of our houses…particularly, our bedrooms! (Believe it or not, buying a dildo or a jelly vibrator remains illegal in Texas.)


Oh…I almost forgot…we must send a clear message that the Constitution is not a periodical-old French joke-and is not open to supercession!


Two days ago, President Obama declassified many of the Bush Administration’s secret Depart of Justice memos and e-mails.


Among the many things these authorized:

The apprehension and indefinite detention-without habeas corpus-of anyone in the United States, regardless of citizenship, believed to be a threat to national security, terrorist or aid to such parties.

Military strikes-including armored attack or airstrike-upon any location in the United States suspected to be a threat to national security, a terrorist hideout or location of terrorist aides.

Oh…and one suggested that the government could ‘just execute them on the spot.’ The ‘them,’ in this case, could easily have been us, as the definition of the ‘enemies of the state’ was deliberately left vague.

“Dub’ya” didn’t quite have the balls to go for it, but as my mother used to tell me about Christmas gifts of clothing, it’s the thought that counts.

Uncle Sam had airstrikes and firing-squads waiting for those of us who didn’t play well with others.

(I would like to pause at this moment to say something to the former administration, since George Carlin can’t…blow me!)

So, do you understand why I want Bush and company tried for war-crimes, among other things?

They were so ready to dispatch firing squads; it’s only fair that they face a few.

This is our nation. We own it. We are the Keepers of the Republic.
We ensure that our Senators represent our states’ best interests.
We ensure that our Congressmen, the Representatives, represent ours.
We ensure that the Constitution is not soiled, damaged or trod upon.
Most importantly, we ensure that those who do so are punished, including the use of capital punishment or life imprisonment.

We are United States citizens.

 I make no claims, pro or con, regarding possible serious or potentially fatal side-effects associated with the use of the Gardasil vaccine. 

(That said…there is chatter about such things. In fact, the articles below are necessary reading for any parent about to consent to their daughter’s inoculation or any young woman contemplating said inoculation!)

 The following articles appeared in the Hobbs News-Sun, published in Hobbs, New Mexico.

Hobbs is approximately 20km from where I grew up and has a total population of approximately thirty-thousand people.

Despite Hobbs’ modest size, two HHS students fell ill after receiving the complete Gardasil vaccine. 

They blame the vaccine.

I’ll allow you to judge for yourselves.


The U.S. Food and Drug Administration and Merck Pharmaceuticals had the following response…

                             A California chiropractor believes he can offer some assistance…





























                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                For legal reasons, I cannot take a position.
Were I a parent, I would take the following position…”not only no, but hell no!”


Yes, cervical cancer is a killer, but this vaccine may have been rushed out too soon.

Simply get yearly Pap smears, use condoms and make showers both a part of foreplay and afterplay.

BTW: Guys, the same virus has been known to cause throat cancer in those who perform oral sex.

%d bloggers like this: