Do nutty people know that they're loony? Or do they believe that everybody else is woo-woo? It's like that epidemic of Nigerians pawning themselves off through emails and letters as inheritors of tons of money from their dead father who was king or owner of gold and diamond mines, and they only need the help of some business-minded people who want to make millions of dollars. Such business-minded people only have to send them a few thousand dollars to help them get the millions out of escrow. And guess whom they target to be part of this scam? Ye ol' gullible Americanos.
Or take, for example, the group in San Francisco that determined some years ago that those three-foot high cement blocks used to block off certain streets or some entrances to public places were not stone after all; that in truth, they were Gods -- and since then many people have been worshiping those stones.
Now we come to the end of the world -- again? According to an interpretation of the ancient calendar of stoneage Mayan culture we all were to become dilapidated, used up, going into the Big Sleep on 12-21-12. And guess what.
It happened!
People, we're all dead. This is what Life after Death is about. It's like that life we have in those dreams when we're asleep. We have all the emotions as when we're awake: love-hate, sorrow-happiness, anxiety-tranquility; we do all the things as when we're awake: work-play, run-walk, protect-kill, sing, dance. On 12-21-12 many expected some horrible, CALAMITOUS BANG, ending our beautiful planet Earth.
Celebrate, people, we passed into the After Life with such peace and security that we're still ASLEEP and are in the After Life withou realizing it! HALLELUJAH! Stop bugging NASA with those mundane questions. Tell them that we're enjoying our NEW LIFE. It's like being dead but still living. M-M-M.
Friday, December 28, 2012
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
Opening Up
A tragedy is not an accident. It is the result of a chain of events or factors. A person, for example, determines to hide a mentally sick son or daughter or boyfriend or girlfriend from the public and doctors.
'This is my child, I love him. I'm not alllowing anybody to take my child from me and put him in some hospital for the mentally ill or a house for crazy people. All the poor thing needs is just for someone to love him, and can't anybody understand him and love him as I can because I'm his mother. I brought him into the world. He's mine. I raised him and know him better'n any psychologist or psychiatrist.
'So what if he's just a little different from other kids -- and sometimes a little embarrassing for me -- I can just keep him out of the public's eye, keep him home. I can teach him better'n some of these schools. He'll grow out of some of these problems he seems to be having.
'Some people think that a woman can't teach a boy how to be a man, can't tell him about women the way a man can. I'll show 'em. It's not like a man trying to teach a girl to be a woman. A man can't do that. I'll teach him how to shoot a gun, like a man.
'Besides, there're these parents getting checks from the State for some child diagnosed as "disable" with mental problems, and if that child does anything wrong the courts hold the parents or guardians responsible. I'm not getting involved in that . . . if people know he has a mental problem that'll just open him up to ridicule and make his condition worse. I'm not opening my family up to all that . . . nobody says anything about all these nuts walking our streets and riding our buses everyday or on jobs and in our schools . . . .'
'This is my child, I love him. I'm not alllowing anybody to take my child from me and put him in some hospital for the mentally ill or a house for crazy people. All the poor thing needs is just for someone to love him, and can't anybody understand him and love him as I can because I'm his mother. I brought him into the world. He's mine. I raised him and know him better'n any psychologist or psychiatrist.
'So what if he's just a little different from other kids -- and sometimes a little embarrassing for me -- I can just keep him out of the public's eye, keep him home. I can teach him better'n some of these schools. He'll grow out of some of these problems he seems to be having.
'Some people think that a woman can't teach a boy how to be a man, can't tell him about women the way a man can. I'll show 'em. It's not like a man trying to teach a girl to be a woman. A man can't do that. I'll teach him how to shoot a gun, like a man.
'Besides, there're these parents getting checks from the State for some child diagnosed as "disable" with mental problems, and if that child does anything wrong the courts hold the parents or guardians responsible. I'm not getting involved in that . . . if people know he has a mental problem that'll just open him up to ridicule and make his condition worse. I'm not opening my family up to all that . . . nobody says anything about all these nuts walking our streets and riding our buses everyday or on jobs and in our schools . . . .'
Thursday, December 13, 2012
America's Fiendish "Friends"
He performed at a charity concert Sunday night, December 9, in Washington, D.C., capital of the United States. In 2004 he, "Gangnam Style" rapper PSY, became famous for singing "Dear American," a song containing his words calling for American soldiers in Iraq to be killed. "Kill their daughters, mothers, daughters-in-law, and fathers, kill them all slowly and painfully," he screamed angrily.
Now that tens of thousands of American soldiers lie in graves for having given their lives fighting to save South Korea from communism, and he's not starving as North Koreans; now that all the anti-American scum throughout the world have applauded him, making him famous and rich; now that he can be invited to perform in the United States -- by whom? -- and can add millions to his bankroll, he's suddenly saying that " . . . there are limits to what language is appropriate . . . ." He didn't know this before calling for Americans to be killed?
He expresses that he is deeply sorry for how his lyrics could be interpreted in "Dear American." How else could they be interpreted? He blatantly, wildly bellowed for American soldiers, their mothers, their daughters, and fathers be killed slowly and painfully. He informs us that he ". . . has learned through music, our universal language, we can all come together as a culture of humanity and I hope that you will accept my apology." That observation about music being a universal language has been circulating in the music-world for years. He didn't know about it before screaming for Americans to be killed? And defiling people, then apologizing and asking to be forgiven is, today, a comon gimmick of hypocrisy.
Instead of Americans cheering him at that concert in our capital, they should have been praying that he and his supporters burn in Hell together!
Now that tens of thousands of American soldiers lie in graves for having given their lives fighting to save South Korea from communism, and he's not starving as North Koreans; now that all the anti-American scum throughout the world have applauded him, making him famous and rich; now that he can be invited to perform in the United States -- by whom? -- and can add millions to his bankroll, he's suddenly saying that " . . . there are limits to what language is appropriate . . . ." He didn't know this before calling for Americans to be killed?
He expresses that he is deeply sorry for how his lyrics could be interpreted in "Dear American." How else could they be interpreted? He blatantly, wildly bellowed for American soldiers, their mothers, their daughters, and fathers be killed slowly and painfully. He informs us that he ". . . has learned through music, our universal language, we can all come together as a culture of humanity and I hope that you will accept my apology." That observation about music being a universal language has been circulating in the music-world for years. He didn't know about it before screaming for Americans to be killed? And defiling people, then apologizing and asking to be forgiven is, today, a comon gimmick of hypocrisy.
Instead of Americans cheering him at that concert in our capital, they should have been praying that he and his supporters burn in Hell together!
Saturday, December 8, 2012
"Veni Vidi Vici"
. . . he could hear their feet pounding hard and fast behind as he ran for his life on that open field. He knew they'd show him no mercy, knew they'd be more angry than moments before when they had their chance to take him down, but his 6 foot, 200 pound athletic body was too strong and slippery for them and they felt humiliated by his speed, wanting revenge.
"Get him . . ! Get him . . !" he heard men and women screaming, children echoing them. He'd been running less than ten seconds from them, but he already knew they'd never catch him. He began feeling triumphant, as if his body was beginning to smile. That was when to the corner of his right eye, coming like a bullet across the field, sprang this image of a man. And he knew instantly that he couldn' outdistance him, the man was coming too hard and fast, would cut him off. He'd have to try a sudden slow-'n'-go on the man. He timed it, did the quick cut of speed, then accelerated, and he and that man made that historic crash.
It was 1946, the Army-Notre Dame "game of the century." "Doc" Blanchard was at top speed, guaranteed to score a touchdown for Army, when Johnny Lujack, also at top speed, sacrificed his body, slamming head-first into "Doc" Blanchard, electrifying over 75,000 spectators packed into Yankee Stadium and thousands across the country listening to that tackle by radio.
Johnny Lujack, an All-American quarterback after playing offense and defense -- passing for touchdowns, running for touchdowns, punting, kicking fieldgoals, tackling -- for Notre Dame was already "Mr. Football," taking Notre Dame to National Championships in 1946 and 1947. But when he tackled "Doc" Blanchard in that 1946 championship game -- which ended with neither team scoring -- he was en route to winning the Heisman Trophy and becoming the legend he is today in 2012.
Notre Dame is up again. January 7, 2013, it'll be Notre Dame against "Roll, 'Bama" . . . gonna be rough, rough, rough for the "Fighting Irish," but "Go, Notre Dame! Give it a 'Veni Vidi Vici' like Johnny Lujack!
"Get him . . ! Get him . . !" he heard men and women screaming, children echoing them. He'd been running less than ten seconds from them, but he already knew they'd never catch him. He began feeling triumphant, as if his body was beginning to smile. That was when to the corner of his right eye, coming like a bullet across the field, sprang this image of a man. And he knew instantly that he couldn' outdistance him, the man was coming too hard and fast, would cut him off. He'd have to try a sudden slow-'n'-go on the man. He timed it, did the quick cut of speed, then accelerated, and he and that man made that historic crash.
It was 1946, the Army-Notre Dame "game of the century." "Doc" Blanchard was at top speed, guaranteed to score a touchdown for Army, when Johnny Lujack, also at top speed, sacrificed his body, slamming head-first into "Doc" Blanchard, electrifying over 75,000 spectators packed into Yankee Stadium and thousands across the country listening to that tackle by radio.
Johnny Lujack, an All-American quarterback after playing offense and defense -- passing for touchdowns, running for touchdowns, punting, kicking fieldgoals, tackling -- for Notre Dame was already "Mr. Football," taking Notre Dame to National Championships in 1946 and 1947. But when he tackled "Doc" Blanchard in that 1946 championship game -- which ended with neither team scoring -- he was en route to winning the Heisman Trophy and becoming the legend he is today in 2012.
Notre Dame is up again. January 7, 2013, it'll be Notre Dame against "Roll, 'Bama" . . . gonna be rough, rough, rough for the "Fighting Irish," but "Go, Notre Dame! Give it a 'Veni Vidi Vici' like Johnny Lujack!
Monday, December 3, 2012
Please Close The Door
"Black" Nativity. "Black" what? Who left the door open?
To the Jews one says, "Happy Hanukkah!" Who knows what one says to the Chinese, Japanese, and Indians, one never hears any cultural greeting of cheer at this time of year in their language. Maybe they brush it off.
To the Caucasians one says, "Merry Christmas!" (The Nativity being of their culture). To the Afrikan Americans one says, "Happy Kwanzaa!" (A cultural greeting that encompasses the needs and identity of the Afrikan Americans).
Now who are these "Black" Nativity people? Still carbon copies, left-overs untouched by the black cultural movement of the '60s? The Nativity is of, for, and by Caucasians satisfying a need in the pursuit of happiness in their continuing history. Granted, we all seek happiness, and there are values and principles in the Christmas saga that are universal. For the moment, we leave aside the religious context -- out of which flowed those melodius songs of Christmas carols nailed by Bing Crosby, Perry Como, Nat "king" Cole, Billy Eckstein, and numerous others that thrill us with cheer, love, and joy to be alive with others. That screaming and hollering of these carols by some carbon copies -- as if being stuck by red-hot pokers -- makes one want to bellow, "Please shut the hell up!"
If you agree with this post, share it with a friend. Help close the door before carbon copies begin calling themselves "black" Anglos.
To the Jews one says, "Happy Hanukkah!" Who knows what one says to the Chinese, Japanese, and Indians, one never hears any cultural greeting of cheer at this time of year in their language. Maybe they brush it off.
To the Caucasians one says, "Merry Christmas!" (The Nativity being of their culture). To the Afrikan Americans one says, "Happy Kwanzaa!" (A cultural greeting that encompasses the needs and identity of the Afrikan Americans).
Now who are these "Black" Nativity people? Still carbon copies, left-overs untouched by the black cultural movement of the '60s? The Nativity is of, for, and by Caucasians satisfying a need in the pursuit of happiness in their continuing history. Granted, we all seek happiness, and there are values and principles in the Christmas saga that are universal. For the moment, we leave aside the religious context -- out of which flowed those melodius songs of Christmas carols nailed by Bing Crosby, Perry Como, Nat "king" Cole, Billy Eckstein, and numerous others that thrill us with cheer, love, and joy to be alive with others. That screaming and hollering of these carols by some carbon copies -- as if being stuck by red-hot pokers -- makes one want to bellow, "Please shut the hell up!"
If you agree with this post, share it with a friend. Help close the door before carbon copies begin calling themselves "black" Anglos.
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