Monday, May 31, 2010

Only in St. Clair Shores



The above pic is from Michigan's largest Memorial Day Parade, held yesterday in St. Clair Shores.

It's a fairly amazing act of political incorrectness. Not only does it openly mock and disparage impoverished, white Appalacian mountain folk ("hillbillies"), but the organization that does it is a branch of the Masons, the Shriners, that call themselves "Moslems".

I assume, since they dress like that and drink whiskey, that they are, er, not PRACTICING "Moslems".....

Memorial Day Weekend, Day 4.5

WITH DEEPEST THANKS TO THOSE UNKNOWN TO US, WHO CAME NOT HOME AGAIN...





AND WITH DEEPEST THANKS TOO, TO THOSE KNOWN TO US, WHO DID.



"Great Uncle Gerald O'Brien" (1893 - 1959) - WWI - Came home shattered by battle in the days before PTSD was understood; never married; spent his life as a gentle alcoholic in the care of my Grantmother Kent.



"Uncle" Thomas Clarence Kent (1912-1983) - WWII, US Navy - commanded a LST (Landing Ship - Tank) in five invasions: North Africa 1942, Sicily 1943, Normandy 1944, South of France 1944, Iwo Jima 1945. His LST at Normandy was sunk by a German artillary shell with all hands lost, except for Tom, on D-Day. Spent his life as a neutral labor negotiator for the auto industry: in essence, as a peacemaker.



"Dad" William J. Kent Sr. (1919-1991) - Stateside service: WW2 Army Air Corps, Korea US Air Force, Vietnam US Air Force. Deployed to Saudia Arabia, Lebanon, and to Alaska. He retired from the Air Force on June 6, 1966 with the rank of Major.

Memorial Day Weekend, Day 4




In Flanders Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.


From the Arlington Cemetery web site:

McCrae's "In Flanders Fields" remains to this day one of the most memorable war poems ever written. It is a lasting legacy of the terrible battle in the Ypres salient in the spring of 1915. Here is the story of the making of that poem:

Although he had been a doctor for years and had served in the South African War, it was impossible to get used to the suffering, the screams, and the blood here, and Major John McCrae had seen and heard enough in his dressing station to last him a lifetime.

As a surgeon attached to the 1st Field Artillery Brigade, Major McCrae, who had joined the McGill faculty in 1900 after graduating from the University of Toronto, had spent seventeen days treating injured men -- Canadians, British, Indians, French, and Germans -- in the Ypres salient.

It had been an ordeal that he had hardly thought possible. McCrae later wrote of it:

"I wish I could embody on paper some of the varied sensations of that seventeen days... Seventeen days of Hades! At the end of the first day if anyone had told us we had to spend seventeen days there, we would have folded our hands and said it could not have been done."

One death particularly affected McCrae. A young friend and former student, Lieut. Alexis Helmer of Ottawa, had been killed by a shell burst on 2 May 1915. Lieutenant Helmer was buried later that day in the little cemetery outside McCrae's dressing station, and McCrae had performed the funeral ceremony in the absence of the chaplain.

The next day, sitting on the back of an ambulance parked near the dressing station beside the Canal de l'Yser, just a few hundred yards north of Ypres, McCrae vented his anguish by composing a poem. The major was no stranger to writing, having authored several medical texts besides dabbling in poetry.

In the nearby cemetery, McCrae could see the wild poppies that sprang up in the ditches in that part of Europe, and he spent twenty minutes of precious rest time scribbling fifteen lines of verse in a notebook.

A young soldier watched him write it. Cyril Allinson, a twenty-two year old sergeant-major, was delivering mail that day when he spotted McCrae. The major looked up as Allinson approached, then went on writing while the sergeant-major stood there quietly. "His face was very tired but calm as we wrote," Allinson recalled. "He looked around from time to time, his eyes straying to Helmer's grave."

When McCrae finished five minutes later, he took his mail from Allinson and, without saying a word, handed his pad to the young NCO. Allinson was moved by what he read:

"The poem was exactly an exact description of the scene in front of us both. He used the word blow in that line because the poppies actually were being blown that morning by a gentle east wind. It never occurred to me at that time that it would ever be published. It seemed to me just an exact description of the scene."

In fact, it was very nearly not published. Dissatisfied with it, McCrae tossed the poem away, but a fellow officer retrieved it and sent it to newspapers in England. The Spectator, in London, rejected it, but Punch published it on 8 December 1915.

Sunday, May 30, 2010

Memorial Day Weekend, Day 3



...and remembering those who carried the burden of those who never have come home.

Saturday, May 29, 2010

Memorial Day Weekend, Day 2.5

With Thanks To Those Who Fell--and those who didn't, but who bore the weight for many years after.....

Memorial Day Weekend, Day 2

Let us remember those who are going "over there", sometimes for the fifth time.

The following is a film of "Hyper Realistic Army Training."

It is NC-17 rated for "very, very, very realistic fake violence."

Do not click if you have a weak stomach.

This is what our boys train in these days down at the National Training Center at Fort Polk, Louisiana. It makes what I went through at Ft. Polk in 1997 or so appear an utter joke.



Friday, May 28, 2010

Memorial Day Weekend, Day 1

First, let us thank and remember those who have gone "over there" and have come back alive.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

There's a Hole In The Bottom Of The Sea

For the tune: click here.

There's a hole in the bottom of the sea,
There's a hole in the bottom of the sea,
There's a hole, there's a hole,
There's a hole in the bottom of the sea.

There's a pipe in the hole
In the bottom of the sea,
There's a pipe in the hole
In the bottom of the sea,
There's a pipe, there's a pipe,
There's a pipe in the hole
In the bottom of the sea.

There's a drill on the pipe in the hole
In the bottom of the sea,
There's a drill on the pipe in the hole
In the bottom of the sea,
There's a drill, there's a drill,
There's a drill on the pipe in the hole
In the bottom of the sea.

There's a bit on the drill on the pipe
In the hole in the bottom of the sea,
There's a bit on the drill on the pipe
In the hole in the bottom of the sea,
There's a bit, there's a bit,
There's a bit on the drill on the pipe
In the hole in the bottom of the sea.

There's some oil on the bit on the drill
on the pipe in the hole in the bottom of the sea,
There's some oil on the bit on the drill
on the pipe in the hole in the bottom of the sea,
There's some oil, there's some oil,
There's some oil on the bit on the drill
on the pipe in the hole in the bottom of the sea.

There's a trail of the oil on the bit on the drill
on the pipe in the hole in the bottom of the sea,
There's a trail of the oil on the bit on the drill
on the pipe in the hole in the bottom of the sea,
There's a trail, there's a trail,
There's a trail of the oil on the bit on the drill
on the pipe in the hole in the bottom of the sea.

There's a miles long trail of the oil
On the bit on the drill
On the pipe in the hole in the bottom of the sea,
There's a miles long trail of the oil
On the bit on the drill
on the pipe in the hole in the bottom of the sea,
Many miles, many miles,
There's a miles long trail of the oil
On the bit on the drill on the pipe
In the hole in the bottom of the sea.

There's a mess from the miles long trail
Of the oil on the bit on the drill
On the pipe in the hole in the bottom of the sea,
There's a mess from the miles long trail
Of the oil on the bit on the drill
On the pipe in the hole in the bottom of the sea,
There's a mess, there's a mess,
There's a mess on the miles long tail
Of the oil on the bit on the drill
On the pipe in the hole in the bottom of the sea.

It’s Bush’s fault, it’s Bush’s fault that
There's a mess from the mile long trail
Of the oil on the bit on the drill
On the pipe in the hole in the bottom of the sea,
There's a mess on the mile long tail
Of the oil on the bit on the drill
On the pipe in the hole in the bottom of the sea,

Bush's fault, Bush's fault, that
There's a mess on the mile long trail
Of the oil on the bit on the drill
On the pipe in the hole in the bottom of the sea.

You just knew that last part was coming, right?

Art Linkletter Leaves Millionaire Acres



....having finally finished a 97-year "Game of Life."

Certainly he seems to have played *his* game pretty well. He leaves his wife of 75(!) years, two living children, and many grand and great-grand children.

Three other of his children predeceased him, including a 20 year old daughter who jumped to her death in 1969.

Video of My Favorite Cardinal Sin....

....okay, then, maybe not favorite, just the one I'm most likely to commit.

Meet the sloths from Amphibian Avenger on Vimeo.



AND



Salute: http://pinktreefrog.typepad.com/ and Lauren Sangret.

Thursday, May 20, 2010

The Future of Video Revealed!

Indystar reports of the latest breakthrough of television technology brought to us by Google and Sony.
Google Inc. believes it has come up with the technology to unite Web surfing with channel surfing on televisions. To reach the long-elusive goal, Google has joined forces with Sony Corp., Intel Corp. and Logitech International. The companies unveiled their much-anticipated plan for a "smart" TV on Thursday.

To get an idea of how this new fusion might look, a video has been posted here.

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

With Deepest Apologies To Stan Lee

It sez here that
ON a farm in Wyoming, USA, goats are being milked for their spider webs....Professor Lewis and his team at the University of Wyoming have successfully implanted the silk-making genes from a golden orb spider into a herd of goats and are now, finally, producing one of nature's strongest products in useable quantities.

Which of course brings us to.....

Spider-Goat, Spider-Goat
Gobbles everything down its throat
Spins a web with its milk
Labcoat guys make it into silk
Look out
Here comes the Spider-Goat!


This is proof that "Every day and in every way it is getting weirder and weirder."

(with even deeper apologies to Emile Coue)

ADDENDUM

Next up: a genetically engineered goose that lays auricupride-embedded ova. Which, once they breed a surviving specimen the smart boys will probably take apart trying to figure out how it does it.

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Quote of the Day

One secret to balancing the budget is to remember that all tax revenue is the result of holding a gun to somebody's head. Not paying taxes is against the law. If you don't pay your taxes, you'll be fined. If you don't pay the fine, you'll be jailed. If you try to escape from jail, you''ll be shot.

Thus I -- in my role as citizen and voter -- am going to shoot you -- in your role as taxpayer and ripe suck -- if you don't pay your share of the national tab. Therefore, every time the government spends money on anything, you have to ask yourself, 'Would I kill my kindly, gray-haired mother for this?'

In the case of defense spending, the argument is simple: 'Come on, Gramma, everybody's in this together. If those Canadian hordes come down over the border, we'll all be dead meat. Pony Up.'

In the case of helping cripples, orphans, and blind people, the argument is almost as persuasive: 'Granny, I know you don't know these people from Adam, but we've got five thousand years of Judeo-Christian-Muslim-Buddhist-Hindu-Confucian-animist-jungle-God morality going here. Fork over the dough.'

But Day care doesn't fly: 'You're paying for the next-door neighbor's baby-sitter, or it's curtains for you, Lady'....


- P. J. O'Rourke, 'Parliament of Whores'

Been AFK....

I've been overwhelmed with emergency work the past few days. Will be back up and running shortly. Your patience is appreciated.

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Sore Losers


(1934-2010)

A couple weeks ago we mentioned that the Supreme Court upheld the right of a cross to continue to remain in the Mojave Desert on Federal land as it has stood since 1934. It was built by the Veterans of Foreign Wars as a war memorial to the dead of WWI.

Five of the Supremes held, correctly, that it was not a violation of the First Amendment to allow the cross to remain.

Well, certain sore losers decided to destroy the Monument over the weekend. The Cross was ripped down and taken to parts unknown.

A sign of the times, and not a good one.

Monday, May 10, 2010

Stephen Wiltshire, The Human Camera

A small note of hope for every parent of autists.

Sunday, May 9, 2010

cuz its Mother's Day: Reposting.... MAMA MIA!

I have always been an unabashed and shameless promoter of the Martha A. Kent fan club.

Leave aside for a moment that this magnificent woman was, is, my mother. This lady is the very exemplar of The Greatest Generation. Bearing and raising nine only children (you have to know my sibs and me well to get that joke) and raising them, most of the time, on a single salary (my dad's), she was a pioneer: first woman manager at Hudson's Corporation during WW2, a TV writer in the days of rabbit ears and static, an industrial filmmaker who (a) made dozens of training videos for the auto industry almost singlehandedly, and (b) witnessed Gov. Dukakis make the tank ride that tanked his presidential campaign in 1988.

Mama is in her 88th year now, and is in a nursing home: her mental faculties are 100% there, but she's confined to bed; she cannot even walk any more, and her hands barely function.

This picture, however .... reflects an extraordinary moment.



Mom inherited her mother Loretta's glass sculpture of the Blessed Mother when Grandmother Remski died in 1976. Unfortunately, it went the way of all statues of Mary last September when a well meaning but inattentive assistant at her nursing home knocked it to pieces by accident.

Well, Mom got her back yesterday in one piece after some of the fam passed the hat and sent it to a glazier's for restoration. The result was this picture. I thought you'd all appreciate it.

Martha A. Kent.

Awesome does not begin to describe this lady. Truly.

Saturday, May 8, 2010

Tattered Remnants #029: Madge Oberholtzer (1898-1925)




AMERICAN LUCRETIA: MADGE AUGUSTINE OBERHOLTZER (1898-1925)

Given the decaying level of American education in this day and age, the name "Lucrecia", when encountered, summons images of Lucrecia Borgia, poisoner, prostitute, and daughter of the worst Pope in history.

But there is another Lucretia in history, a far worthier individual: a woman whose courage in defense of her sexual virtue brought the end of a great tyranny. When raped by the son of Tarquin Superbus--"Tarquin The Proud"--he who was the last King of Rome, she named him and committed a very public suicide. This so enraged the people of that city that they drove out the King and his whole family, leading to the founding of the Roman Republic.

And the republic they founded was the model for our very own, some twenty five centuries later.

Odd how history repeats itself.

Madge Oberholtzer was a virginal schoolmistress who, until her horrible and untimely death, had lived an unknown life as an Indianapolis schoolteacher. She died, like Lucretia, by her own hand after being raped and ravished. But her steadfast courage and naming of her attacker--the head of the Ku Klux Klan in her home state–-led directly to the utter collapse of the Klan in Indiana and contributed to the Klan's near total disappearance nationwide within a year. Furthermore, she also stopped the rise of a most malignant political figure as well.

She seems to have been a harmless person. An utterly obscure school teacher-–the only serious profession available to single women in those simpler days–-she began to work for the state, teaching reading to adults who lacked that ability, as well as teaching elementary reading to black school children. She lived with her parents, which is what respectable unmarried women did in those days.

In the spring of 1925, Madge was invited to a dinner at the state capital, where she was introduced to one of the leading political figures of the day. David Curtiss "Steve" Stephenson was a leading state politician, a multimillionaire, by profession a salesman and a newspaperman; he had been an unsuccessful candidate for Congress but was looking ahead to greater things. He was seen as a rising figure. Then in his mid-30s, he was a man of much charm and great power and reach. He saw Madge and was smitten.

A first date went well, and he asked her for a second. In the course of conversation that second evening, however, he revealed to her that he was not merely a rising political figure, but the head of the Ku Klux Klan for the entire state of Indiana.

The Klan was, at this time, at the peak of a great wave. The Klan had died out under Federal and state law enforcement pressure by the end of Reconstruction and had ceased to exist from about 1875. While gone, however, it was not forgotten. The first great Hollywood epic, Birth of a Nation, which was released in 1915, caused a reappearance and a resurgence of this Civil War era abomination as what was, essentially, the first movie tie-in.

Mr. Stephenson had ridden the wave of what scholars now call the "Second Klan." He was instrumental in placing certain Klan leaders in political office statewide, and he owned a newspaper, the "Fiery Cross", which spread the Klan's message. He grew fat and rich off of his political connections, his newspaper, and his leadership of the so-called 'Invisible Empire.'

However, while Mr. Stephenson had grown dramatically in wealth and power––by now he had his own crew of bodyguards, a mansion, and a private train as well––he had failed to take into account that not everyone was impressed by his association with the Ku Klux Klan.

Certainly, impressed Madge was not.

When he revealed that he was the "Grand Dragon" of the state's Klan, she immediately terminated their date and left him.

That should have been the end of it; a man like D.C. Stephenson should have recognized his failure and let it go at that. But men like D.C. Stephenson do not get where they are by taking no for an answer.

A few days after their second date ended, he invited her to a private meeting, ostensibly to discuss with her a possible place of employment for her. However, having isolated her and surrounded himself with his bodyguards, he forced her to drink several glasses of alcohol (she was a teetotaler). Once she was intoxicated, he instructed her bodyguards to take her to his car and put her aboard his private train.

As the train traveled from Indianapolis to Chicago, he raped her repeatedly and mutilated her with his teeth, leaving hideous infected wounds that, medical testimony later held, would have eventually led to her death regardless of any other causes.

When the train made a stop in Chicago, she made pretense of needing certain personal items and he let her go, under guard, to a drug store. She was unable to give her guards the slip, so she took that opportunity to purchase several mercuric chloride tablets: a medicine formerly used to treat syphilis and a powerful poison when taken in quantity.

When she was returned to the train, she confronted him, saying "The law will get its hands on you!" He laughed at her. "I am the law in Indiana!" he said.

When it became clear to her that she had no escape, she took all the tablets at once. Within minutes she was vomiting and convulsing, which at least caused the sexual assaults to stop.

For almost 24 hours he kept her alone while she continued vomiting, never getting her any medical treatment. Eventually he directed his bodyguards to take her back to her parents' home. As she lay dying, she revealed what had happened to her parents, signing a statement before she passed away in agony. She died on April 14, 1925 from an infection and kidney failure from mercury poisoning.

The trial was sensational. D.C. Stephenson never expected to be convicted, particularly as he believed her to be a victim of suicide and not murder. But the jury was not impressed with his defense, particularly after a doctor testified of her wounds, and that his refusal to get her medical aid upon discovery of her self-poisoning made her death a certainty. On November 14, 1925, they found him guilty of second degree murder, rape and kidnapping on the first ballot. He was sentenced to life in prison two days later.

Again, he never expected to serve his time, particularly when he, himself, had organized the Governor's election to office, and thus expected to be pardoned. When that was not forthcoming, he released, through his lawyer, the names of all the leading Klansmen in Indiana, as well as evidence of bribes that they had paid to public officials, including the governor. Over the following two years several leading politicians were forced, as a result, out of office and some even went to prison themselves.

Between the publicity of his trial and the release of the supposedly 'secret' Klan membership list, the Indiana KKK collapsed to almost nothing. By 1928 it had for all intents ceased to exist; and, nationwide, after the election of November of that year, its political influence for all intents and purposes disappeared throughout the nation. The Klan was not to reappear until the 1950s, under an entirely new set of miscreants.

Madge Oberholtzer had lived a quiet and unremarkable life until undergoing horrific personal loss and sacrifice at the hands of a tyrant: a night of rape and torment, and three days of agony before her death. And yet her sacrifice was meaningful: for her death, like that of Mary Joe Kopechne forty-four years later, changed the course of history by stopping the rise of a potentially great but clearly unworthy man and, in her case, broke the back of the Klan as well.

Again, as I have stated in earlier entries to this collection, suicide is not an exit available to Christians. However, there may be extremely limited circumstances where it is a reasonable response to an assault of demonic dimensions, as here. Furthermore, it is possible that her radical act of self-poisoning was not necessarily suicidal; she might have lived if her ravager had picked up a telephone, so I would give her the benefit of that doubt. As it was, her death brought down a malignant figure who-–had she simply submitted and remained silent–-might well have gone on, in the disordered years of the early 1930s, to become a political monster of the sort that defaced the history of that sad decade.

As it was, like the Klan, D.C. Stephenson was broken but not destroyed by his trial. He was released from prison in 1950 (some sources say 1956), but had not reformed, being arrested in 1961 for the sexual assault of a sixteen year old girl. He died in Tennessee in 1966 and was buried there.

Today he is a forgotten man. His name is associated with no massacre, no death camp, no war crime: for this, we may well have the sacrifice of Madge Oberholtzer, the American Lucretia, to thank.

To learn more about the Tattered Remnants, click here.

Friday, May 7, 2010

To Boldly Groan....



You have to have seen the new Trek movie some 1,770,561 times (as we have) in order to fully appreciate the sheer brilliance of this. Really.

Dulce Et Decorum Est Pro Patria Mori

"Sweet and Fitting It Is To Die For Your Country"

I've been wargaming since my sixteenth birthday; it's a hobby that shaped my career, led to my serving in the Army, my work as a peacekeeper in Bosnia, and has helped me enjoy an ongoing relationship with my three boys (and preparing me for my career as an attorney--all them durn rulebooks!).

But sometimes we gamers forget that the soldiers and wars so portrayed are not mere images but reality.

Today, on an wargamer's Email list to which I subscribe, I got the following from Maurice Miskow of Canada:

All of us enjoy playing wargames where only cardboard and electrons die; sadly this is not true in real life.

Some of you may have heard of the death of the first Canadian sailor in Afganistan last Monday. His was Petty Officer Craig Blake, 37, who left behind a brother, wife and two young boys (14 and 8). He was the proud son of the brother of my sister-in-law.

Craig joined the navy at 18 and was going to retire next year after 20 years service. He was a navy deep sea diver with explosives training, and had served in the Gulf war.

Let us not forget the true sacrifices our heroes make.

Maurice

The Winnepeg Free Press has the story here.

God rest you, sailor, and flights of angels see thee to thy rest. And thank you, Maurice, for allowing me to retell your story.

Thursday, May 6, 2010

Ve Vonder Vere +Guenther Wendt....

American space pioneer Guenther Wendt, the legendary "Pad Fuehrer" who prepared almost all the astronauts involved in the early launches through the end of the Apollo program, passed away Monday at the age of 86.

He is seen in my favorite movie, Apollo XIII--the man who shakes Jim Lovell's hand before the hatch was sealed at launch--and is also greeted by Lovell with "I vonder vere Gunther vent?", a joke that Mr. Wendt no doubt learned to hate.

He was involved in almost every flight from Mercury to the Apollo-Soyuz mission with the significant exception of the Apollo 1 tragedy, where contracting difficulties kept him uninvolved. The astronauts insisted on his return thereafter, and return he did.

His strictness in running the preflight checks was legendary, but it no doubt resulted in the return of every American astronaut ever launched under his authority. He was the last man the astronauts saw before leaving Earth--and could have been the last man any of them actually did see.

He is a minor American legend and deserves to be remembered for all he did to put us on the moon.

He leaves behind three daughters, five grandchildren, a great-grandson and a great-great-grandson.

A Stamp for Christopher Hitchens


I was forwarded the following letter from Brian Burch of CatholicVoteAction.org; I am taking the liberty of reposting it in full.

This is excellent news.

Oh. And give CatholicVoteAction.org a visit.

==========

Dear Friend of CatholicVote,

I have wonderful news.

The Mother Teresa stamp is coming!

Over 138,000 friends of CatholicVote.org joined together to defend the stamp to honor Mother Teresa. And the Postal Service took notice.

Roy Betts, a spokesman for the Postal Service, told CatholicVote.org yesterday:


“The stamp will be dedicated September 5 [at] the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception in Washington, DC. Feel free to post information about the stamp, the image and the dedication ceremony on your website. Thanks!”


Wow. Launching the stamp at a church. The anti-religion radicals are going to go wild!

When the stamp was first announced, a group called the Freedom from Religion Foundation began spreading lies about Blessed Mother Teresa, accusing this holy nun of having a ‘darker side,’ and calling her a ‘polarizing Roman Catholic figurehead.’

Mother Teresa gave a pro-life speech when she accepted the Nobel Peace Prize in 1979. This radical group called her speech a “disturbing, befrogged religious rant.”

That’s why we swung into action to “Stamp Out Bigotry!”

Thank you for signing our petition. It truly made a difference. If your friends or family would like to add their names in support of the Mother Teresa stamp and against those who attack this holy nun, tell them to visit www.stampoutbigotry.com.

Too often only one side of this debate is heard. This time the Post Office heard from us. A separate spokesperson for USPS even told a reporter that our efforts were appreciated.

You would think attacking Mother Teresa would be off limits. But in our world, respect and decency can be discarded so long as you're bashing Christianity. A small but vocal segment of our country will stop at nothing to cut down the role of religion in our public life.

These groups are relentless. So we must defeat them at every turn.

This past week, the anti-religion zealots were dealt another blow. They fought for years to tear down a cross at the Mojave War Memorial in California – a cross honoring our fallen heroes. We filed an important brief in this case with the Supreme Court on behalf of you – the members of CatholicVote.org – and we won.

Last week the Supreme Court ruled that a federal court went too far in ordering the removal of the cross (which has been covered up by a plywood box since 2002!).

CatholicVote.org is committed to protecting and promoting the role of religious faith in our culture and national life.

We think it’s proper and fitting that our Supreme Court has a statue of Moses. We think it’s great that three Catholic priests (one is now a Saint!) are honored in the National Statuary Hall located in the United States Capitol. This is the history of our nation. We should be celebrating the role of religion in America, not destroying it.

And that’s why we’ll be in Washington at the ceremony unveiling the Mother Teresa stamp on September 5.

Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta, pray for us.

Sincerely,

Brian Burch

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

+Ernie Harwell (1918-2010)



He has gone to a Greater Detroit, where Tiger Stadium yet stands and no good thing is destroyed.

He was 92.

"For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone; the flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land."

Happy National Star Wars Day

May the Fourth be with you!

(....hey, sith happens....)

"Four Dead in O-Hi-Oh"

On a more serious note, today is ALSO the 40th anniversary of the Kent State shootings.

Let them be remembered: Allison Krause, Jeffrey Miller, Sandra Scheuer and William Knox Schroeder, innocents killed as a result of out of control leftist rioters deliberately and needlessly provoking the Ohio National Guard.

The riot was set off as a result of the U.S. invasion of Cambodia on April 30, 1970.

When we failed to defeat our enemies in that country, well, er, bad things happened.

But hey, the protesters ended the Vietnam War, right? Right?

Monday, May 3, 2010

Dark Matter Exists... Unless It Doesn't

Yesterday upon a stair:
I saw a particle, 'twasn't there.
It wasn't there again today
Oh how I wish it'd go away....

Otnay Oootay Ightbray

The individual sought for having planted the bomb in Times Square was apparently not very good at his job.

It appears that his primary explosive load, which should have been the chemical fertilizer known as ammonium nitrate, was, in fact, um... er.... a more natural form of fertilizer.

Never has the phrase "full of BS" had a happier outcome.

OTOH, one should not laugh: I remember how we chortled at the incompetents who bombed the WTC in '93, too. And boy did THEY learn.

ADDENDUM:

Said individual now has a name: "Shahzad Faisal a naturalized America of Pakistani descent".... much to the disappointment to at least one Democrat blogger, who was hoping she could pin it on Glenn Beck.

ADDENDUM II:

No, Mr. Mayor Bloomberg, BOMB + NEW YORK + FAMOUS LOCATION ≠ OBAMACARE PROTESTER. Idjit.

Equal Justice Under.... flaw

In other bad news, the front doors of the Supreme Court of the United States is about to be closed to anyone wishing to enter the building. You can come OUT those doors, but not enter them.

Security, donchaknow.

This is extremely BAD juju: we can't even be trusted to enter the house of justice through the front door?

Sunday, May 2, 2010

Doctor's Board: You Can't Execute People!

The Sydney Morning Herald reports that an association of doctors in DC, the American Board of Anesthesiologists, has decreed that any doctor participating in an execution by lethal injection shall lose his license.

Great news.

Now, how about the same penalty for those who tear unborn babies to shreds in abortion clinics?

((crickets chirping))