Suicide watch

Bush did not do it to us, nor did Obama. No politician is responsible. It was us, every day Americans. We put our country on suicide watch. Unfortunately for us, we handed the death switch over to Dr. Suicide.

By now, you have certainly seen the pictures of the homosexuals at the White House homosexual pride event making obscene gestures towards the photograph of President Regan. We are told that events such as homosexual pride month are an exercise of long held American values. Pardon me.

Secretary of Defense Panetta declared June as homosexual pride month for the military. Some time ago, (October 2010) I told you that would happen. There was also a homosexual marriage ceremony performed by an Army Chaplain in an Army Chapel at Fort Polk, Louisiana. I told you that would happen also. Clearly, the military is the chosen tool to normalize homosexuality in America. All of the cheerleaders for open homosexual service, both inside and outside the services, lamented that it was all about service and that homosexuals who are serving now should not have to live a lie. People in the service, including Chaplains, are told by the top leadership to “Get in line with this policy or resign your commission.” No, now people with deeply held beliefs are asked to live a lie instead and are having their religious freedom crushed. Current policies have placed the world’s best military force on suicide watch and along with it, the rest of the country. A Godless military will not survive, nor will a Godless country. Get in line with that thought Admiral.

You cannot do something that is bad and hope to achieve something good. You cannot take freedom from one group under the guise of giving it to another. I do not care how you dress it up, it is not America. It is not freedom, but that is where we are.

Homosexuality and God are incompatible. When incompatible values come into conflict, one must hold to his principles and his beliefs. I do not care if a person wants be known by his sexual orientation. If he wants that to be the center of his life, it is his choice. I do not care if homosexuals serve in our country’s armed forces. What I care about is being told that I have to accept their behavior as normal while not being able to exercise my guaranteed religious freedom. When the homosexuals flipped a bird at President Reagan, what they were doing was flipping it at you – if you claim to be an American.

We have turned into quite a place and it appears to me that the lunacy, on our way to fundamental transformation, has taken more steroids over the past several years than has all of professional sports. We have become a self-worshipping, sex-worshipping, money-worshipping, power-worshipping, and America-loathing society. Dr. Suicide has his finger on the switch. Sadly, we forgot something very important along the way. We stopped worshipping God and being grateful for the freedom He gave to us.

Regardless of what happens in November, America is already fundamentally transformed. What we have endured has changed our lives as much as did the terrorists attacks of 9/11.

I am an American and here I make my stand. You have tried to divorce me from my beliefs. You have tried to take my freedom, but it cannot be taken because I refuse to give it to you. You have forced us far away from our founders and even farther away from our God. You have worked hard to darken the beacon that has shown out from this land toward the un-free world. I am an American and I will travel no more with you along the road to the destruction of my country. If you achieve your goals and arrive at your destination, when you turn around you will realize that I did not follow.

God Blessed America and I swore to protect her.

Woe to those who call evil good
and good evil,
who put darkness for light
and light for darkness,
who put bitter for sweet
and sweet for bitter. – Isaiah 5:20 (NIV)


It looks like freedom

Along with my trusted co-pilot of the past forty years, I survived another stealth excursion into the DC metro area. I navigated malfunction junction without shaking fists, honking horns or one-fingered commuter salutes – at least not from me. Having left there some years ago, one thing I never pine for is the beltway madness where everyone is in a hurry and most of them headed some place they would rather not be. For those of you unfamiliar, malfunction junction is where Interstates 95, 395, and 495 collide into multiple lanes of mayhem – all of them apparently trying to escape from Washington at 70 miles per hour. On ramps cross exit ramps and merge lanes are typically four lanes away from where you need to be and it is constantly under construction. I am always left wondering where in the blazes do all of these cars come from and where they are all going. One of my long time Internet acquaintances and former co-contributor at Old War Dogs has a blog “This Ain’t Hell, but you can see it from here”. I am thinking that maybe he has a bird’s eye view of the DC beltway – or its creeping Communism.

In scenes like the DC beltway, I see freedom. I see the freedom that we have, for now, in this great country to move about as we please. My mind trails back to the train trips I made through the former East Germany while traveling from Frankfurt to Berlin where the communist East German guards, known for shooting people who tried to escape to freedom, would board the trains at the stops. Sadder still is the mass of Americans who do not seem to understand what it is they are allowing slip away without so much as a whimper. Just envision that magnificently engineered highway sitting empty with multiple military checkpoints on access routes into and out of the city. Papers please. Travel permit please. Gut wrenching thought, is it not?

Fortunately for me, I arrived there with splendid images of the New River Gorge and the serenity of a trip through the Shenandoah Valley fresh in my mind. While visiting the mayhem, I knew that when my business concluded, I would have that nice drive back through some of our country’s most beautiful real estate along with some valuable time to think.

Interstate 66 is another DC escape route. It is a short scenic ride that dumps you on to Interstate 81, where one must fall into step with the north-south truck traffic which is relatively light on a Sunday afternoon. Traveling through the valley, I think about all of these giant trucks filled with goods cutting through its middle and the valley is still as pristine as ever. Endless pastures with farmland and grazing cattle under a brilliant June sky. Leaving 81 and heading west into the West Virginia mountains I sometimes feel like I am driving into a giant green cocoon. One that is warm, welcoming and free. I think about the highway system crisscrossing America. Our people are able to travel about covering distances in days that took our ancestors many months and goods manufactured on one side of the country making it to the other side in the same manner. The liberals are right I suppose, fossil fuels have had a major impact on our country. It sent freedom rushing to every corner of it and allowed many to escape from those smothering metro centers.

Of course, if you listen to Vice President Joe Biden, our country is falling to pieces and China is where it is really happening. His main qualification for being a heartbeat away is unfettered gas-baggery. Sadly, Washington is full of his kind – people who sell their souls for an eye-blink of power. Joe, maybe they will let you be the mayor of your concentration camp – I mean commune.

I am growing weary of hearing about how wonderful communist red China is with its near slave labor and forced abortion and who is the enabler of communist North Korea where the poor starve while the Kim clan and cronies live life in opulent fashion. This is typical for communist controlled utopias.

In 1993, not long after the fall of the Soviet Union, I was able to take a drive with my wife and some friends into the Czech Republic. It was one of the formerly Soviet controlled countries living in communist utopia. The roads were narrow, two lanes with mud a few steps from the asphalt. Trees along the roadway had white painted trunks some with reflectors nailed on them. There was practically no traffic on the road way. Arriving from West Germany, it was like driving back into 1940. I contrast those images with the images from my weekend excursion to the world’s freedom capital and realize that the trip I made in a few hours would likely not have been possible in a communist utopia.

I grow more hardened against freedom’s enemies each day that I watch what is happening to our country. Freedom is not guaranteed to us just because we were blessed with birth in America. With West Virginia’s beauty right outside my windshield, a super-sized sugar and caffeine laced Bloomberg in the cup holder, God Bless the USA playing on the satellite radio and with executive orders be damned, I vow to live free.

Communism sucks Joe. Even with pretty airports.


American Stew

How is your hyphenated identity these days? Some, at least those who constantly prattle on about it, long ago left America. From many comes one? Instead, from one we have become a hodge-podge of many identities. Each vying for prominence ahead of Americanism. Each demanding what is owed it.

The great melting pot brewed a special blend of people. They made up a strong nation able to defeat powerful enemies to preserve freedom and achieve greatness in things that other nations barely dream of achieving. It was a great nation able to overcome its own shortcomings, but now it is filled with hate-mongers who refuse to leave the past. Not much different in that regard from the Islamists who still want to kill Christians because of the Crusades.

The melting pot tipped over. Out spilled its separate, but formerly well-blended ingredients that now threaten to smother the fire of freedom. Each component of the American stew it seems now expects special treatment because of who they view themselves to be – something other than American. They have simply forgotten that it is because of America that they have the precious freedom to express themselves openly without fear of oppression.

Instead of looking at ourselves as Americans, we preface our identities with our ancestral nation of origin, our race, our religion and even our sexual lifestyle choice. Each identity demanding what it is owed – by America.

It is hard for me to wrap my mind around the owed mentality. There are many Americans like me. In my youth, economically, I was among the poorest of the poor. All I ever did in the land of opportunity was work. I was earning money when I was fourteen years-old going door to door selling newspaper subscriptions. When I was sixteen, I went to work full time in a factory. When I was eighteen I enlisted into the Army. On a personal level, no one owes me a doggoned thing. Nothing! God blessed me with birth in this nation and because of that I was able to better my lot in life. He placed me here and gave me the freedom to choose my path, preferably the one He placed before me. I am where I am because of the choices I made in this life, not because someone else made choices for me or gave me preferential treatment.

What I am owed is what each American is owed.

I am owed life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

I am owed a government led by honorable people who will staunchly defend my freedom and the Constitution that sets the foundation for our representative republic and guarantees my freedom.

I am owed an equal chance and not a guarantee of an equal outcome.

I am owed a government ran by servants of the people who come, serve, and then go back home. Not those who come, stay, and believe that it is they who should be served by me.

I am owed a government that will not squander our national wealth on crony influenced boondoggles.

I am owed a justice system that blindly delivers justice.

I am owed a government that does not meddle in my personal life. A government that knows it has more important work than deciding my food choices, soft drink size and health care choices.

I am owed a government that places the security of our nation above politics.

That is not a long list of what I am owed and on Election Day I stand ready to collect.

Our choice is a simple one. We can right the American stew pot and become once again a nation of All-Americans or we can continue on the pity-party you owe me path to utopian hell and the destruction of the greatest nation God ever allowed to exist.

God blessed us. May we not squander his blessings?


Times are a-changin’

President Obama awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom to Bob Dylan. He also gave one to Delores Heurta, a Hugo Chavez toady and Chair of the Democratic Socialists of America. Ms. Huerta is on tape proclaiming that Republicans hate Latinos. An old protest singer and a de facto communist receive the highest man-produced honor bestowed upon civilians in our country. Well why the heck not? I am just curious why Ellen or Rosie O’Donnell did not get one for all of their “civil” rights work.

“I remember in college listening to Bob Dylan and my world opening up because he captured something that — about this country that was so vital.” – President Barack Obama

I am at a stage in my relationship with the leader of the free world where I am unable to take these snippets of his life as factual. It is like the grand slam homerun I hit in Little League baseball. Fantasy. Just between you and me, I have a hard time mentally connecting Barack Obama with Dylan music. But, I could be wrong. He swears to have found Jesus in Jeremiah Wright’s church house. If that is so, why would Bob Dylan’s music not have opened up his world?

There is the commie link in Dylan’s tribute “Song to Woody.” There could be some connection there. The President besides being one has surrounded himself with many communist utopian thinkers.

Hey Woody Guthrie but I know that you know
All the things that I’m saying and a many times more
I’m singing you the song but I can’t you sing enough
‘Cause there’s not many men that’ve done the things that you’ve done.

Then there is that drug thing he talked about in his memoir and the revelations of his school daze “Choom Gang” (pot smoking gang) in the forth coming book “Barack Obama: The Story.”

“Pot had helped, and booze; maybe a little blow when you could afford it.” Describing his drug use in “Dreams from My Father”

We may have stumbled upon the Dylan-Obama life connection. One is left but to wonder if it was the Dylan music or the mind expanding drugs that opened up young Barack’s world to what about this country was so vital. Can you not envision Bob and Barry hanging out together? Maybe doing some doobies in the Oval Office or taking a psychedelic midnight stroll through the Whitehouse rose garden and suddenly breaking out in a duet of “Cocaine Blues.”

You take Sally, an’ I’ll take Sue,
Ain’t nah difference between the two.
Cocaine all around my brain.

Hey baby, you better come here quick,

This old cocaine ‘bout to make me sick.
Cocaine all around my brain.

I am now looking forward to the President’s next college campus campaign speech.

Just imagine the President and Dylan on stage together. Both with flattop guitars and harmonicas in neck holders. See the haze from the pot smoke? The President speaks about the unfairness of having to pay back ones student loans and declares that he will cut enough out of the defense budget to forgive all of them – keeping just enough for the drone fleet. Reminding all of the future draft dodgers that we do not need much of a defense budget because he has ended all of our unnecessary wars. Then as the sound of the crowd nears a roaring crescendo, Barry and Bob break out into raucous rendition of “Everybody Must Get Stoned.” Accompanied by Ray-Ban sunglasses wearing Slick Willie on the sax with Hillary singing along while downing Bourbon shooters. And there stands Old Joe Plugs strumming on his banjo and yelling “stand up Chuck.” Is not campus life good?

Well, they’ll stone ya when you’re trying to be so good
They’ll stone ya just a-like they said they would
They’ll stone ya when you’re tryin’ to go home
Then they’ll stone ya when you’re there all alone

But I would not feel so all alone
Everybody must get stoned

I am not sure that I recognize my country in its present state. Sometimes though, down deep inside, you know that the promised change is finally coming. It is not the change of promise-maker. It is real change. In Dylan’s words, “The Times They Are A-Changin.”

Come senators, congressmen
Please heed the call
Don’t stand in the doorway
Don’t block up the hall
For he that gets hurt
Will be he who has stalled
There’s a battle outside
And it is ragin’
It’ll soon shake your windows
And rattle your walls
For the times they are a-changin’.