All posts by JD Pendry

No Amnesty

Duel Shy-Theads of the week. Democratic Senator Chuck Schumer and Republican Senator Lindsey Graham. Both leading the way to put illegal immigrant amnesty before funding our government and military.

Mr. President. A note for you Sir. You are teetering on the edge of losing me and a considerable chunk of deplorables. No “love bill” amnesty. Do you even know where the Obama Administration sent illegal immigrant minors when they spread them around the country? This is the next batch of “Dreamers.” Build the wall. Take a gigantic enema to the DOJ and the FBI. Drain the swamp or become part of it.

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I have never tried political prognostication. It is a pointless industry where abject failures get wealthy. From where I sit, slightly below ground in the bunker operations center, there remains a collection of people who do not know why they’ve had their butts handed to them in multiple local, state and national elections. Nor does their highly paid consultants know “What Happened.” They are in denial and continue to double down with the only strategy they have – at all costs illegal immigrant amnesty and standing in the way of progress.

For the Washington cabal, the problem is not that complicated. These simply do not know me – the common American. They don’t know my neighbors. They don’t know the guys down at the garage that service my vehicle. They don’t know the Servicemen and Servicewomen who are prepared each day to lay it on the line defending even rotten to the core politicians who clearly do not give a rat’s hind quarters about them and in tandem our country.
Hillary Clinton, the progressive queen mother, called those of us who chose the other candidate deplorables.

“You know, to just be grossly generalistic, you could put half of Trump’s supporters into what I call the basket of deplorables. Right?” Clinton said. “The racist, sexist, homophobic, xenophobic, Islamaphobic—you name it. And unfortunately there are people like that. And he has lifted them up.” – Hillary Clinton

Mrs. Clinton made certain to highlight all of the popular “ists” and phobias. Speaking for myself, I have grown weary of being labeled racist because I am white and do not live in New York or some other democrat ruined city. I’m tired of being called a racist because I do not support illegal immigration presented in any fashion or amnesty for those who came here illegally. I’m weary of being labeled sexist because I would not vote for Hillary Clinton. Tired of being called homophobic because I believe marriage should be between one man and one woman. Tired of being called Islamaphobic because I believe the earth should be cleansed of terrorists whatever their name brand. Tired of being called Xenophobic which is a redundant compilation of all the other slurs. I’m an American. Period. You Mrs. Clinton along with your allies are not.

They tell me it was white privilege more specifically white male privilege that got me out of West Virginia’s coal mining communities where indoor plumbing was a rarity. The same privilege that had me working in a Chicago factory when I was a 16-year-old high school dropout and into the Army before I was 19. Was the color of my skin the reason I got a college degree taking evening and weekend classes when my service duties infrequently permitted? Was it for that same reason I was able to achieve the Army’s highest enlisted rank and have a successful post Army career? Nope. Did success and failure have nothing to do with work ethic or purpose? It was all handed to me and along with it I became responsible for poor life choices made by others.

Hey Washington. Start acting like grownups. Dump the identity politics act and the pretense that you care for anyone or any thing but yourself. No amnesty. Build the wall.

© 2018 J. D. Pendry

Shy-Thead, Communists, Crumbs and the Weinstein Brigade

I was in the Army with Shy-Thead. Shy-Thead was male and female and probably some gender in between. Shy-Thead was a liar, thief, general trouble maker, absent any integrity, absent honor, and of low character. In the Army, he or she did not do well . On the human scale, Shy-Thead rated somewhere lower than whale crap. In spite of all of that, Shy-Thead made it to the big stages and prospers in the swamp waters of Washington, Hollywood and more recently the NFL.

Democrat Senator from Illinois, Dick Durbin, is Shy-Thead. He is also a Communist although just one of many documented in Trevor Loudon’s book THE ENEMIES WITHIN: Communists, Socialists and Progressives in the U.S. Congress . People and politicians stopped pointing out the communists inside our government because they feared the McCarthy label. The sad truth, McCarthy was right. For the facts and true history read M. Stanton Evans, Blacklisted by History: The Untold Story of Senator Joe McCarthy and His Fight Against America’s Enemies . Communists were then and are now at the highest levels of our government. Hollywood has always had a Communist problem, they are more blatant about it these days, Ronald Reagan confronted them when in Hollywood and throughout his lifetime. Some of them were blacklisted from work, which should not have happened. Ironically, conservatives hit the Hollywood blacklist these days. Ask Tim Allen.

The documented Communists in government are all affiliated with the Democratic party. Given the upper hand, Communists are Godless, amoral and to achieve their ends historically resort to mass murder. Problem, most Americans under fifty know nothing about Communism, but are head over heels in love with Marxist Socialism the precursor to Communism.

It was Shy-Thead Durbin who spread the shithole comments creating a media shitstorm against the President. He is well known for misrepresenting what happens during oval office meetings. So, he’s a liar and a Communist. The real issue for me is that the man has zero honor. None. Not one bit. To have the privilege of a private, frank discussion with the President and nearly break the sound barrier to leak your version to the press makes you Shy-Thead first class. Adding to Shy-Thead Durbin’s resume is his comparing our Soldiers to “Nazis, Soviets in their Gulags, or some mad regime Pol Pot or others.”

Democrat Nancy Pelosi’s communist ties also outed in Mr. Loudon’s book. San Fran “you got to pass it to see what’s in it” Nan believes that the thousand-dollar bonuses and pay raises corporations are giving their employees as a result of the tax cuts are “just crumbs and so pathetic …. insignificant.” There is a quote some attributed to Marie Antionette while others attribute to no one except for an unnamed “great princess.” The quote is “let them eat cake.” It was supposedly made when the princess learned that the peasants had no bread to eat. For a millionaire, that amount of money probably does amount to nothing. Especially when you’ve never arrived at the end of the money before pay day. San Fran Nan is also a Shy-Thead and hopelessly out of touch with us commoners. Durbin and Pelosi are but 2 examples of communists in our government. Check out Mr. Loudon’s book and well documented research. Before you discount the dangers of Communism take time to research the millions who’ve died at the hands of Communists. Some figures exceed a hundred million.

Then there is the Harvey Weinstein Brigade. By all accounts Mr. Weinstein is a deplorable man and one who clearly used his position of power to take advantage of women. Sexual assault, sexual harassment or even conversation that is improper in that regard is not acceptable. But this is the environment created by Hollywood. It is hard to find a movie that does not have a sex scene in it or one not laced with profanity. And starlets who claim harm by this environment still stroll the red carpet practically naked. Then President Oprah lectures the rest of us on Hollywood’s problem. No matter the situation, people exist in the environment they create. Hollywood is filled with Shy-Theads and they deserve one another.

I think I need a Shy-Thead of the week award.

© 2018 J. D. Pendry

Artificial Intelligence?

I see kids everyday who are mesmerized by their smart phones. Adults too. Everything that’s important to them is there. Or so you’d think. There are people who cannot keep their hands off of or their nose out of it sometimes for more than a few seconds. People who have anxiety attacks if they are away from home and discover they forgot to bring their life-line with them. If they haven’t already, this addiction or psychosocial disorder needs to be added to the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM). (Had to put that in for my buddies back at the VA. I think I had one or two. Well, maybe not.)

What did we do before the Internet. Sometimes I question whether Al Gore did a good thing when he invented it. Our search engines once resided between our ears and in the library. Internet search engines put a bazillion tons of information right at our fingertips. It all begins right after the multiple entries that paid for their spots near the top. We once familiarized ourselves with the author’s bona fides before we accepted the work as a reference. Now we can’t even be sure the author is really the author. I wrote something quite a few years back that made some laps around the net. It was edited, rewritten, retitled by anonymous editors and it’s still out there. Snopes even said it was false before they said it was true. Anyone can have a website up and running in minutes – I’m living proof and everything I write is the absolute truth. At least as I see it.

What did we do before cell phones? Phones are supposedly getting smarter as are all computing machines. When our phones, computers, or some software engineer does our thinking for us does that make us smarter or dumber? Something for the philosophical types to ponder. We now have robots that can see to our intimate needs. Life is happening around us devoid of physical human contact. There must be something unhealthy about that. Are people becoming more emotionally attached to their gadgets and robotic hook ups than to other humans? Do they become desperate when there’s no cell signal or wi-fi?

How long since you received a handwritten note? I used to get an occasional email with a friendly note. Then I started getting hate mail from people who were not fans of my prose. They thought that since I had an email address it was okay to cuss me out seven ways from Sunday. I also used to get those emails warning me that my arms and legs would fall off and my house would burn down if within the next seven minutes I didn’t forward it to everyone in my address book. Thankfully all of that stuff is now on Facebook and Twitter. If you don’t share this post for example, you will forever be locked up in Facebook hell, that is if you really give a Twit.

When I worked, way back, I used to get annoyed with the know it all types. They would waste a lot of my time telling me all the magnificent functions I could perform with the program of the day. They were really good at everything except pulling a product out of it. They hated me and others like me because we would sort out the few necessary functions to do our job and that was it. We did not need the hi-liters, filters, sorters and special links to the real stuff. These are the people who would use the GPS to go to the grocery store or an app to order the groceries delivered in so they can spend more time holding hands with their robot sweeties. Too scary for me.

Over on the table, I have a radio my Dad built. It is solid state, with AM, FM and short-wave bands. He gave it to me in 1980 and it still works just fine. You should not be allowed to listen to AM radio on any other device. Not too far from it sits a Royal manual typewriter. Its purpose these days is to hold my Cubs World Series Champion baseball cap. It’s a portable too, the original laptop. I want to see you work that puppy with our thumbs. Do any of you have an app that’ll fix my next plumbing leak or shovel the global warming from my driveway? If you do, call me on the rotary dial.

© 2018 J. D. Pendry

A common purpose

Back in my Army days, my friends and I used to remark how great a feeling it was to see certain places appear in the rearview mirror. For me, Washington, DC comes to mind. That feeling generally held until we arrived at the next place. Then we reminisced about how good we had it at the place we just left. Putting that together we realized that the best place in the Army was either the place we just left or the place we were headed. It is one of those circles of life that exists inside the bigger circle. Although a unique one. For us, it broadened our horizons so to speak. We moved to new places, saw new things, met new people. Not just new neighbors moving in, but the widest range of people from all ethnicities, education levels, and social-economic statuses. Amazingly, it’s where all of that diversity levels out and focuses on a common purpose – being the world’s best military. It’s the best place. The place where the ruck sack weighs the same for the PhD as it does for the GED and what pushes them along toward mission completion and winning is that common purpose.

It does not seem that long ago the world was in a tizzy over Y2K certain that everything except sundials would cease to function or that anything created or born post 1900 would vaporize. I think I recall the government spending a bazillion dollars to defeat the crisis. Another world catastrophe averted so we could focus our energy on defeating the catastrophic dangers of global warming. The temperature outside the bunker firing port this morning is 6 degrees. Around here, that is more than 20 degrees below our normal low temperature. Up in Erie, PA, were I once lived, the legendary phrase is that Erie has only two seasons, winter and the fourth of July. It snows a lot in Erie and the hairs in your nose like to freeze up with your first morning breathe of winter air. Beginning late September into October the snow banks grow quite tall before the start of the spring thaw, which often arrives late. It’s also when missing pets reappear. On Christmas eve and Christmas day Erie got five feet of lake effect snow. That is a record even for Erie and is even more than the epic blizzard of 77 that greeted my family and me on our arrival there. Such occurrences are why we now strive to solve global climate change. Some believe it’s phony, some believe it’s real. It certainly is not our most pressing problem and not one deserving our undivided attention or to be our common purpose.

In January, a new and unexpectedly elected President took office. There was a lot of crying, gnashing of teeth and wondering “What Happened” by the losing side. Since then, there’s been hatred streaming in from all corners. It has shown us that what we do not need in our country is liberal or conservative media. What we need it honest and objective media from all directions otherwise Americans are steered by the propagandists with the largest megaphones. We need a media with a true common purpose – the fact driven objective truth.

Love him or hate him, our President does not appear to view the world through an ideological liberal or conservative window. As rough around the edges as he presents, he’s a successful businessman with a lifetime of effective problem-solving experience. With some luck, we may be seeing the death of politics American style or at least a mortal wounding of it. Also, with luck, we may actually see political partisans solving problems together with the welfare of America and Americans as their guiding principle rather than being guided by fact resistant ideologies.

Common purpose moves mountains. It unites us rather than dividing us. It makes remarkable success possible. In 2018, may the rest of our great nation learn from the tiny percentage of Americans who successfully protect and defend us because they share an unwavering common purpose.

Wishing you a blessed 2018!

© 2018 J. D. Pendry

Christmas Memories

Did you ever sit back and ponder Christmas past? I mean way past, back when you were just a young’un. I know some of us are challenged to remember what we had for breakfast, much less what we did when we were ten. There are some memories, however, that never leave us. We might misrember them sometimes as we’ve reprinted them time and again onto the cranial hard drive.

My cousin Preston got one of those vibrating football games for Christmas. In our day, that was really high tech. To play the game you aligned the opposing teams for every down and then switched it on. The field vibrated with an awful racket. The players, wearing plastic bristles for cleats shook wildly and started moving – in every which direction. Sometimes they would hook arms and sit there vibrating in a circle or end up in a directionless clog of plastic football players right in the middle of the field. Occasionally one of them would break loose from the mob and head toward a goal line – hopefully the correct one. Except for my battery powered machine gun that made a noise when you squeezed the trigger that was about as hi-tech as it got for us. We did have the marvel of Etch-a-Sketch and Light Bright and every girl learned how to burn food with her easy bake oven. Nearly every year someone got a football for Christmas. Football was a lot more fun out in the back yard than on a vibrating field sitting on the bedroom floor– especially when the dogs got into the game. When we ran they did too tugging on our shirt sleeves or pants legs. They’d go after the ball too actually blocking a pass now and again and try vainly to pick up the ball with their mouth.

At school, we used to draw names for a gift exchange. Unbeknownst to me, one Christmas Big Rita drew my name. She gave me a toy pistol that was broken and put back together with a screw that was about an inch too long. She had a sneer on her face as she watched me open it. The sneer turned into a cackle and chocolate dribbled out the corner of her mouth. Who ever drew her name gave her a box of candy and in our time probably homemade fudge. No, I did not wish for her to choke as that would not be very Christmassy. Silently, however, I did hope it was laced with Ex-lax.

One year, I wanted a sled, but I guess I knew it was a little outside the price range of gifts. My Dad managed to come up with a sled for me anyway. It wasn’t new. Dad found a frame and runners from an old sled. He re-done the wooden body and steering handle and shined up the runners. On Christmas morning, I couldn’t wait to try it out. Our sled runs were epic, if not sometimes dangerous. We lived near the top of a mountain and the way up was a winding dirt road. We got a good bit of snow every year. Repeated snow and freezing along with some vehicle traffic turned that road into a very fast well packed sled run. We never gave much thought to zipping down the middle of the road. We also didn’t wear helmets.

One kid that lived just up the road came out with his brand spanking new sled. It was shiny and sleek. Of course, he wanted to race. I took the challenge. Initially he was in the lead, but I passed him. We usually ended our run at a turn in the road, but he wasn’t quitting and nether was I. My smaller more steerable sled made it through the turn and sleek speed racer went into the creek. It was a memorable Christmas event for me, a wet cold one for him.

My most memorable sledding day was not at Christmas. My friend Shortie, Preston and me decided we would sled down a hillside cow pasture on a piece of roofing tin. There was one problem with our sled run. At the bottom of it was a barbed wire fence so we would have to bail or face being shredded. I guess we didn’t realize how fast a sheet of tin loaded with three boys would travel down a snow-covered hillside. We all managed to make it, but Preston did leave the seat of his britches attached to our improvised sled.

The most memorable Christmas event for me? It was the first time I heard my young son yell out, “Mom, Dad! Come see what Santa brought!”

May you make countless good memories. Have a Blessed Christmas.

© 2017 J. D. Pendry