HOPE For A Caste Sheep

I’ve been trying to write a really dazzling, intellectually stimulating blog about the economy, or the shadows, or the political mire, or corruption or whatever catches my attention… But nothing really does. It all seems like a rehash of the same story with a few edits, a paragraph shift, versed synonyms, and in the end, it’s all the same.

I’ve written countless starts and yet my mind continually returns to one story. The story of a Fall, a fall from grace, a fall so incredibly steep and perilous that it catches my breath because I just don’t understand.   It is a story where hope is dragged back to the heart only to be thrashed again. And still, and yet, this flicker of hope seems to never be fully extinguished.

The story is about the pervasiveness of man in inflicting pain – with intention, with justification, and even with – glee. How far into Hell does a soul fall where pure depravity becomes an obsession that consumes the last bit of life? Where Destruction is measured as the fruit? Where once there was a soul, somewhere, but where the cracks opened to crevices, and there was nothing left of the shredded mask?

Where a person once lived.

It’s not the terrorist. It’s not the murderer. It’s not the rapist or the child molester. It’s not the prostitute or sex trafficker or acid attacker. It’s simply the person standing next to you. A person you trusted. A person with whom you shared a life. And yet it isn’t a person at all. At least, not any longer. It is the worst form of deception imaginable.

And yet despite the terror inflicted, despite their absolute desire for total ruin, there lingers, unbelievably, hope. Hope that they will somehow be witness to their malicious will, and just – stop.

Days pass. Weeks and months. And still you can’t perceive of the depth of the evil that must consume every cell, every coding, that could cause a person to act in such a way.   Perhaps it is a form of insanity?   Or is that an excuse, a justification, an out, when in fact – sometimes there is no fortuitous end, there is no cure, and that person is beyond even – Hope?

What does one do with such a loss? What does one do when the slashings are unrelenting? When the desire is immortal death? God says that all souls are savable… but not all souls are saved.   And never will be.   And while that may be how it is, God also reminds us to never give up, for even the most vile, the most sinful, can repent, and their stores of death and bitterness can be filled with an abundance of love – visible in their countenance, their deeds, and in their heart.

Of course it is so much easier to observe when you are not the target of the knife, when it hasn’t pierced your flesh, when the slashings are perpetrated somewhere else, on someone else. Then we suddenly become experts on how to assess and analyze and suture the wounds.

Listlessly, we ask the question that forever remains – why? Why do you desire this? What happened to your soul? Maybe you never had one… The veil is lifted. The mask melted by the Son. And when the cracks begin to spread through and across the dead earth that is your flesh, there is nothing to hold your bones intact, your muscle entwined, and you simply spill away into a living death.

And the wasteland that is left, is set aflame.

In all this there is a caveat. If a person hasn’t God, then in whom does he place Hope? In one self? In a mortal being flawed and imperfect? In the government? Where do you find your Hope? Without God, Hope would be so small, so fragile, easily broken, tragically barren.

And so, despite the continued slashings, the depravity, the obsessive malice, I drag myself back up, I stand and stare into the golden sun and decry, I HAVE HOPE…still. Today, I still have hope that this person’s soul will be brought to repentance and humility and set me free, and I will bleed no more. I have Hope because God stands with me in His power, His mercy, His grace.

I have Hope because God is perfect and man is so very imperfect, but even in man’s imperfection miracles can be, as the Shepherd guides, tends, and rights the caste sheep.   And so I ask, I pray, that God would right the caste sheep that has fallen from grace, and mold once again a heart to set me free.

Morality, Ethics, and A Dying Society

For years, there have been numerous explosive discussions about how numbed children are to violence as a result of video games, movies, and even sitcoms. Bombarded with images the sensory development of compassion and empathy are muted. Death and casualty invoke no emotion because its reality has been quashed.

But there is another perverse numbing that has taken hold of society, and it involves adultery, affairs, sexual hookups and pornography.  It is now so pervasive, it is estimated that over 50% of spouses engage in one or more venues.   And yet the consequence of their action, doesn’t seem to reach a value surface. Everyone does it. I deserve happiness. I am entitled.

Left in the wake of these behaviors are a pool of victims – not just the spouse – but children, neighbors, friends, colleagues, business associates and of course, entire families.   The incredible selfishness is waved, and the entitlement is embraced.

Of course the catastrophic snowball can include the possibility that both individuals partaking in this ‘relationship’ are leaving a wake behind them.  And the snowballing of tragedy grows.

Sometimes the affair is the extension of a friendship, sometimes, a vengeance ploy, and other times it is an addiction. Instead of nurturing a marriage, a spouse may be addicted to the high of the ‘honeymoon’.

The morality of society has evolved to accept adultery just as we have accepted violence. Neither have benefited our culture, and both may be our ultimate demise. The ramifications have been and continue to be the dissolution of ‘family’. The legacy that is taught is one of the all important “Me”.   The same “Me” generation that therapists encouraged.

And the consequences are a trail of destruction and a next generation of children immune to marriage and fidelity, wanting no part of the hurt it invokes. Why should I – my father/mother was a serial adulterer?

The same therapists who adamantly encourage selfishness, are now attempting to resolve non-commitment issues.   When in fact, this causal/consequence was actually perpetrated by the idea that society must ‘accept everything’, even those ethics and moralities that cross boundaries. Tolerance means that porn and adultery are commonplace and therefore a normal part of our culture.

Get over it! Don’t be such a Child!

The mantra of an addict.

But our ethics have devolved even more. Inciting assassination is now considered acceptable behavior, and to some, it is even funny. What happens to the upcoming generation that embraces this ideology as well? There are no boundaries. There is no morality. Law is tossed and chaos rules.

Everything created on this earth was created in ‘Order”, there are rules for everything from how a tree grows, to when a flower opens it’s blossom, to how every miniscule particle of our ecosystem is dependent on another. So it is also with humans. When we disrupt this ‘Order” and devolve into chaos, our ecosystem collapses and humanity collapses.

Our bodies are vast creations of “Order”, but they’ve been disrupted by man’s desire to change what is natural and recreate it in an unauthentic environment. As a result we sit numbly and watch as chaos slowly takes hold – an inch at a time.

These three societal collapses are probably our greatest terror threat. They are about disunity. They don’t come from any place of goodness or compassion, and typically leave a trail of death as they numb our senses, devour our heart, and create a new generation of even colder, more detached children.

And yet, we continue to focus on the few, instead of the many…

Middlebury Riots – a generation of daycare children?

Watching the latest Middlebury riots, the level of violence in our youth seems to have reached levels of entitlement without consequence. And this unruly behavior is rooted – at home – with parents. It is the parental responsibility to teach values and ethics to their children beginning in the home – so that they understand it is not tolerated, not permitted, and will have consequences. Unfortunately, it would seem that consequences in the home – in the schools – and now in the universities is non-existent.

Why?

Perhaps the correlation is that more and more our kids are not raised by parents, instead they are raised by institutions, as in DayCares. Not unlike the State raising children without moral boundaries, love, discipline, or virtue.

According to The National Center for Education Statistics, just 13% of children in the US get home-based relative care. This doesn’t mean a parent, it simply defers to ‘any relative’.

Twenty five years ago when daycares shifted from the helping hand to the prime parent, psychologists insisted there would be no ramifications. Instead they sought to encourage this altered state of the Family. They promoted daycares as a good, healthy, social environment. And they derided the home based mother as repugnant for holding their child back from an opportunity!

It’s much like Dr. Spock who decried that actually embracing or kissing your child could lead them into becoming a clingy cry=baby ninny. Or when our esteemed government told mother’s that formula was far superior to breast milk – and an entire generation was raised without antibodies to fight diseases.

We are now forced to live the consequence of this very stupid psychological mumbojumbo MESS.

New studies show that:

1) Children who attend daycare centers tend to exhibit more behavioral problems

2) Age of entry and quantity of time spent in daycare are directly correlated responses to the problem behavior

3) Children who spend more time in daycare more likely to exhinit negative behavior

4) Children in daycare during infancy linked to lower cognitive scores.

5) Extensive daycare experience associated with insecure attachment to mothers.

6) Parents who put their children in daycare are less likely to discipline and provide parental guidance to their children

7) Daycare children were more likely to have academic school problems, health problems as well as advanced behavioral problems.

OOPS! I guess all those expert psychologists from 25 years ago were all dead WRONG.

Further studies have shown that there is also greater inability to engage in a relationship. The new generation doesn’t want kids. They don’t want a family. Their entire world is conceived of self.   Another fabulous concept ingrained by the psychology kingdom. Self books, self need, self desire, pay attention to self, self is everything – until those selves become infatuated with nothing else.  It is an addiction – self absorption.

Daycare was not created to replace mom and dad, it was created to assist single mothers who needed to get off welfare and train in some employment capacity. But the media led us to believe that if the wealthy could have nannies, daycare was the middle class nanny so that moms could tend to ‘self’.

Growing up in a daycare is really not much different than growing up in an orphanage. Twelve hours each day under state rule, only to be taken home by a weary, exhausted mom who just wants to put their child to bed.  I remember when I had my daycare center and moms petitioned for me to have weekend overnights at the center for their children so they could go to bars, and parties and such…   I didn’t.

So if you want to know why these ‘children’ are now rioting at Berkeley, Ferguson, Middlebury, etc…, they have no discipline structure – and the Universities are so afraid they might lose money over disciplinary action, they fall further into an existential trap.

Odd Segway: Remember how the entitlers strove to shut down Ivanka Trump’s clothing line causing many department stores to pull her line? The retailers acted out of fear and succumbed to the bully tactics. But the result has been that her line is doing famously! And in the end, the retailers have lost sales , lost income, and lost respect as the majority spoke.

Imagine what support a university might find if the conservatives discovered that the school actually had values and consequences, and bullying, violent, bratty children – were no longer tolerated?

Sophie – In Memorium

IN MEMORIUM

Today after much postponing, my sons and I put down my dog Sophie. She was over 17 years old and had had numerous times when she seemed on deaths door – only to perk up again and give us hope she would live forever…

I first met Sophie when my boys brought her home after a Bronco game, holding her and saying, “Look what we found… we could keep her if you want, or we can take her to a pound where they will kill her…” Animal lover that I am, she became a member of our family – for better and for worse. Worse was that she was completely untrained and wild. She was in heat and growled and snarled and had obviously been abused.

But despite her eating my kids favorite toys, chasing the neighbor kids around trees, and being a complete weirdo, she was family. When one day she decided that she would no longer leave our cul-de-sac, her phobias kicked into high gear. She would walk to the end of the street, sit down and go no further. So she was relegated to playing and chasing and adventures via the car.

Originally she came to us at barely 17 pounds – she looked like a cross between a red fox and a dachsund. I thought she was amazingly gorgeous! At some point she ballooned to 50 pounds and we jokingly referred to her as the ‘double wide 747’. Getting serious about her weight, the kids were forbidden from giving her treats and half their meals, although this was a challenge, and she was put on a strict diet. She recovered and maintained a respectable weight that as she aged we came to realize was all – fur.

Her bones protruding, her knees giving way, she would not let us trim her nails and they grew to ridiculous length. Her teeth hurt. Her bones hurt. Her back would arch in this horrible fashion. I tried doggy aspirin, and eventually it just didn’t work any more. Absolutely stubborn to the end, she would not touch the Tramadol that may have prolonged her life – but to what end. She was totally deaf and could no longer appreciate the piano I played for her.

We, my sons and I, tried to determine when. That awful, awful decision that is just awful. And we waited three years! She would recover – especially when the warm weather came in, and then winters were tough. But she began to fall spontaneously, and then she would quiver, and sometimes she would splay and whine for help to put her legs back beneath her. Fortunately, being home, I was always there to help. The nurse maid – but in a loving way, never a burden.

So many memories of her protecting me, warning me of danger, she was small, but she made up for it in character. I will miss her terribly. I made the kids throw away all her things in the house. But I know that every time I walk into the ‘mud-room’ from the garage, where she would lay in her bed, I will think she is still there…

A dog, such an amazing companion, so unconditional in their love, so always there – Sophie I will miss you terribly!!

A HERO Story!

HOW to be a HERO

I was in the midst of a nasty divorce. I had three children under the age of five, and a husband who wanted me – dead. My girlfriend flew in to Colorado to comfort me and we went on a few Thelma and Louise type journeys that proved to have – well, consequences.

On one such occasion we, I, decided to drive to Breckenridge, the back way, across the infamous – Kenosha Pass. We had the music blaring, the windows wide, and we were having a grand ole time and apparently I missed the scenic town of Alma. Well, I wasn’t exactly looking in the rear view mirror and so I was quite oblivious to the fact that I was being chased – by a cop.

According to the cop, it took me a full ten minutes to abide by the law.  Sigh.

I didn’t have ‘proof’ of updated insurance, the license plate was registered in my husbands name still, my Drivers License had expired, and apparently I was called out for doing 65 in a 30 mile zone. Not good. He was royally pissed, and no matter how much my girlfriend and I batted our eyes, he was not a takin.

So I got this ticket that was a mile long for nothin’. At least that’s what I thought at the time. Times passes and I get a summons. I have to appear in Alma Court! It’s mid September, I put on my prettiest Mormon dress and open sandals, kiss the kids and the babysitter good-bye and drive to Alma. Creeping up Kenosha, it started to rain, DANG! Then it poured! More Dang. Then I crept across the top of the pass and the rain suddenly transported into globs of snow, I mean fistfulls that came down in balls like baseballs. It was big stuff!

It wasn’t long before the ‘sport wheels’ on my super Audi began to groan and complain. The windshield wipers stuck and I peered through a small hole that was left in the middle of the windshield – about two inches in diameter. There was upwards of two feet of swift fresh powder and I was sitting in my Audi, in my cotton chemise and open sandals, crying. I couldn’t drive. I couldn’t even see the road at all. So I stopped where I was, and opened the door to brush off enough snow to see thru the dang windshield – when a truck blazed past me nearly taking my door and me into oblivion.  NOT COOL.

SHITake…

Whimpering, but with no other choice, I drove as straight as I could, head pierced to the windshield, eyes bugged. Suddenly I saw the outline of a building to my right, and a pathway of sorts that could be a drive. As it turned out it was a Sheriffs Station and I thought I was in luck! Tripping inside, I cried and asked please, please drive me home! They looked at me like I was insane and told me the storm was a freak of nature and had stranded dozens of hunters, cattle and horses. That was their priority and I needed to go across the street to the cafe and wait it out.

How long? I asked.

Maybe four days.

NO WAY. I had three kids at home to take care of!

SO I’m sitting in this cafe blubbering to the guys spilling coffee over my plate and this old man sits down next to me at the bar after a few hours passed. Maybe four. It was a while. Anyway, he is listening to me blubber to the bad coffee pourer and offers to help me out. I’m in my thirties, he’s in his late sixties or there about.

I’m not having any other luck so I say – well, sure. So, he’s got some errands he has to tend to first. You see, the man owns a ranch, come to find later – a big ranch, and he’s got supplies and things he needs to buy at the local hardware store that he happens to own, cause of the storm. He’s driving a big boat caddie type car, enormous, heavy as all shitake. So anyway, I say sure, I mean, it’s not like I hold a hand in this – he’s helping me. So we do his stuff, and then we go back and he tells me to get in my car and he’ll follow me up Kenosha Pass.

Well my little sportie Audi was a bruiser, but not quite up to this task. Still, I had no choice. So I’m creeping up the pass, holding the wheel in a death grip, wishing I was in la-la land, and knowing that death is putting on the brake. There are semis’ jacknifed across the road. There are cars diving perilously into abyss. There is mayhem like a classic snow highway and this is shitake mushrooms!  But I’ve got this guy tagging me, and he’s determined to help me out.

I’m creeping, I’m creeping and then suddenly a hard shift to the right and the car moves sideways. Spin. Spin. Spin. No go!  Dang!

My hero man rancher gets out of his car and tries everything he knows to help, to make it work, to save me. But to no avail.  And while we’re standing in the snow staring at my car, he’s scratching his head, and I’m thinking I am so in trouble, and then – out of nowhere – a sand truck appears and dumps a plot of sand directly in front of my wheels. Huh? True story.  Poof, just like that.  Sand!

I get in the car, and just that bit of traction was enough to get me moving. My hero jumps in his caddie behind me and follows. Slip sliding, I make it ever so slowly up the remaining part of Kenosha. And the second we begin the descent on the other side, all the snow is once again – rain. Just water. And we begin the descent.  And it’s like nothing.

He followed me to his turnoff and made a left at Pine Bluff waving me on. I don’t know his name.  But I know it was important.  I found my way home having missed my court appearance, scared, shaken, and yet – saved.  And I could see, in my minds eye, the smile that must have enshrouded his lips.

Later, as I thought about the journey, I realized it wasn’t about me at all, it was about giving the man the chance to be a HERO. The story wasn’t mine, I was simply a pawn, the story was about the man needing to have the breath of being a Hero. And it felt really good. Because – he truly was.  It was like I was a gift, an object, but a gift.  It had already been determined.  It was something very valuable and important for him in that moment to know.

Epilog: I called the county to report that I had missed my court appearance and was directed to a free county attorney. We spoke – and when he asked what speed I thought I might have been doing – I lied – 40mph – maybe. I provided all my proofs, and $60 later the entire debt was relieved. But the man – my hero – that was – forever.

I BELIEVE!

Our world has become so topsy turvey that we are left speechless.

I recently texted my kids that the news issued a warning there were ‘fake police’ pulling people over and robbing them… The US media was called out by the media in Europe for lying about the stats regarding the German NYE assaults. And as Saudi Arabia and Turkey ramp up their bombing assaults on Syria, the media is saying “it is Russia”… What has changed, my dears? Saudi Arabia, the known vulture of reverse assimilation – annihilation.

Hospitals. Medial Facilities. Homes. Schools. Water supplies. The Saudis don’t care as long as the eradication process is successful. And these are our ‘friends’, those with whom we identify as having ‘life values’. Really? Have you ever personally thought about your values vs. ‘theirs’? Have you made a chart, a columnar graph? What do you believe? What do they believe? Where do we intersect and where do we redirect? Can beheading be an accepted belief?

We so need to talk about it, and yet the more we realize this the more we seem to withdraw. When we need more than ever to connect, discuss, debate, think…we seem to hide fearfully instead.  I love talking to people in general. I love hearing what they think and more importantly – why. I want to know so I can understand.

We have become so indoctrinated into thinking what we are told, we can’t even see – the truth.  We have lost that self power. No matter if you are Christian or Buddhist, Atheist, or Hindu, or Jewish, or whatever, your view is not the context. The context of the media is that we are all wrong, and therefore the only viable answer is – nothingness. That’s the manipulation. That’s the channeling (thank you Shirley McClain).  In Truth – the context is quite alive!  It breathes!  It creates  It is the heart, the core, the being, the soul..

Lying, deceit, betrayal, I think most people would agree, these are the most heinous of crimes. They leave the deepest wounds. The ones that are the hardest to heal. Welts of cancer. And so, I suppose psychologists would agree that the manipulation of thought, ethic, lying, cheating, would be the biggest psychological – crime.

And so the question becomes, “How long?  How long before it all falls apart? When are you obligated to tell the Truth?”

I would have to say, that in looking at my own history, the number of males who owned their part in the lie, the cheat, the betrayal – was -0-. Zilch. I’ve known a few guys… and I have to say that not one would say outloud, “I made a mistake… I screwed up, I am sorry.” It is not in their basic DNA because it admits to failure.  I think women are more likely to do so – how rare it may be.

I think for guys the admission to a failure is just not allowed.  Of course I generalize, there are some.  And this gives me hope.  But sometimes I see and then it fades and all I have left is a dream I had.  And I want to know who that was… because that was amazing!  Truth is amazing!   And I picture myself there again, feeling that which the dream showed me, and it is – grace!   I know it is real.  Somewhere.

I now have next to my computer a picture of an angelic baby smiling quite broadly with a total of six teeth showing. Naked, happy, alive, kissed, loved, adored, appreciated, ahhhh – what if…..

I believe.

Slavery – UN Demands – America Pay Up

The UN is recommending that the US make payment reparations for every descendant of a “black” slave. If we do a simple extrapolation based on population; 330 million people, 12-13% black – that would amount to 42.9 million blacks. No one has suggested a $$$ amount, but let’s just throw out $100,000 each for round numbers (the death benefit for RECA payments to military members subjected to radiation poisoning that resulted in death was $75,000). That would mean we would hand out $4.29 trillion in slave benefits. Given our current deficit is close to $19 trillion – that would mean a fell swoop of an additional 22.6%!

Of course we could always just tax every white person in the US for their fair share… With non-Hispanic whites accounting for 62% of the US population, that would mean 204.6 million people, including children, would ante in about $22,000 each – for the average household of four, that would mean $88,000…

What a ridiculously stupid idea? Who is the UN?

Of course, there would be a fraud calculation which would add to the government calculations and add to the payments in the vicinity of 10-20% as is typical, dead people would come alive, and a mass exodus of citizenship would occur among the more wealthy out of principle.

I think I want the UN to decree that ALL women need to be compensated monetarily for their treatment as property for hundreds of years at the hands of all men. I’m sure we can find a good payment method for the 49.6% of the 7.4 billion population – $37 trillion sounds about right.

Or maybe we should compensate all people for their respective inhumanities against each other for inhumane treatment throughout history – as in those who gave their LIVES during wars for a bunch of ingrates.

Or maybe we can sue the government for allowing these atrocities to occur and every government employee is responsible for the compensation as a result of incompetent management.

Oh wait – this could be fun! Let’s make every UN employee responsible for the compensation of every failed initiative, every rape, sexual assault, mal-treatment, mal-feasance, offensive language, inability to secure freedom and safety for every citizen of Africa, Asia, and South America! That sounds fair…

Each and every descendant of anyone who ever served in the military would be given a reparation for the suffering those fine men and women endured!

Maybe the Egyptians should make monetary reparation for all the slaves they used during the period 3000 BC to present.

Eghads, imagine how much money we would have to shell out to each other for our various heritages going back to the beginning of time? Of course, then we’d have to agree on when the beginning of time occurred, and that would most definitely present a problem within religious and strict science definitions.

Who is this UN authority? The UN Working Group of Experts on People of African Descent. The group was established in 2002. Of course, given that the US is not the only country to enslave slaves, all countries would have to comply. Who heads this group? A white woman, Mireille Mendes France. The agenda? Afrophobia.

Who is Mireille? Her grandfather was a descendant of African slavery in Martinique (which is garble speak for her ancestory of slavery was many generations removed and since have faired quite well in a middle to upper financial zone – far removed from the pestilence and poverty of Africa that her ancestors live today). Her mother was the illegitimate offspring of African, Indian and European descent who lived a middle class lifestyle, which was considered – French?   Her father wrote numerous books and was considered a follower of Marxism and a great influence on Malcolm X and Che Guevara. He was instrumental in the formation of the Economic Freedom Fighters, a revolutionary Socialist movement in South Africa that advocated a Marxist-Leninist societal structure.

So lest you think there is an agenda to the sweet French something Mireille, be assured – there is. It is called Communism.

This is the very same UN that we support, that determines WHO, WHAT, WHERE, WHEN and HOW we operate as a country –

Are you ready to be The United States of Communist Populace?  Because this is the AGENDA.

OSCARS -A Black Controversy

Hollywooders are whining. We want more – even if we don’t deserve it … We should be given an Oscar even if there are hundreds more ‘qualified’, because hey, don’t we have to be treated like we deserve a trophy even if we lost the game, so our ego won’t deflate. Oh wait, that’s the rhetoric in elementary school.  Sorry, I got carried away.

Back to Hollywood. Be careful what Pandora Box you open because you just might find out the truth.

According to researchers at the University of Southern California, of the top 100 films in 2014, gasp, gosh, nearly 75% were white, 12.5% were black, 5.3% were Asian and only 4.9% were Hispanic. The percentage of blacks in the total US population is 12.5% – so actually they were quite fairly and ‘equally’ represented, they just didn’t deserve an Oscar. The group that should be miffed is the Hispanic population, because they are most definitely under-represented by a hefty 12%! Why aren’t they boycotting the Oscar Award Ceremony?

Maybe because they feel privileged instead of entitled. Will Smith? I love you as an actor, but this is just simply petty and quite childish really. Maybe the solution is to have black Oscars, like black television shows, black magazines, and black history, and black yoga, and black housing, and black only restaurants, but wait – we DO!   The BET Award for Blacks only.  Shouldn’t Whites and Hispanics and Asians protest, maybe they could ignite a class-action lawsuit for racial discrimination…

We can return to segregation or we can work toward integration, it is a process.

Let’s not forget women weren’t allowed to run in the Boston Marathon in 1967… maybe we should boycott Boston forever. Or we could change the name of the Marathon to be more all inclusive – like – The Male-Female-All color inclusive-NonGender bias-Short-Tall-fat-skinny-bolemic-Animal lovers – Religions of all Faith and non-faith – ethnic diversity-Marathon… I’m sure I left somebody out.

Bottom line – there are more critical things to be concerned about than a bunch of Hollywooders whining that they are entitled and want more – more – more!  How much money do they make?  Let’s see…  last I heard Will Smith garnered over $36 million per movie, ranking #7 of the highest paid actors of all time… nah, don’t feel sorry for him.

Thank You -obama,ptsd,military

I was thinking about PTSD. I was thinking how it can alter a brains’ very chemistry structure and create – it’s own. I was thinking how PTSD offers the divine and beautiful hope in God. I was thinking – you couldn’t get much closer on this earth than all the military soldiers who have fought for us to the complete and utter sacrifice of themselves.

How complete. Most of us could never imagine!  Amazing!!

Me, I’m an artiste. I think in realms. But there are these pragmatic mindsets that are so completely devotionally giving that their life is a part of the contract. We accept them – as our security – our military. And I believe 99% of them have the most golden of hearts God would never reject them. But, as in all things, it is the few. It is the few that inject into our society a new norm, a new agenda, a new morality. And each time we cave. How can we be so strong… and yet so weak?

The same reason we get up after we fall, brush ourselves off, and vow to try a bit better – next time.

I try to imagine the PTSD after WWII where my father fought as a Colonel of a tank battalion. He never outwardly showed any PTSD aggravation, but I can’t imagine he didn’t harvest it internally. The Glass’s were – are a very proud genealogy. We do not like to show weakness, and would therefore prefer to suffer in isolation. Weird, but it is who we are.

While my father must have experienced great pain during his tenure in WWII, he never really alluded to this weakness in our presence. And I think some of my brother’s therefore had no concept of who he was so much a who he was expected to be for them. A doomed expectation. They could never see him, they could only concentrate on what they were denied. A pivotal spiral that has no win.  But I had One.

Still, somehow, he rose above. He climbed past the grotesque images, and the horrific memories, and he was a great father to me. In fact, I think he was so good, he could have been an incredible inspiration to the masses of young people. Because he embodied the precept ‘I am here’. And he was. Amazing. I imagine my strength in diversity certainly comes from him. My ability to persevere, as my son says, definitely comes from him.

So, to you the men of honor and integrity and value – to you the men who sacrifice and live the memories, to you the men who have been our shield, our sword, our honor, our life, thank you!!! Sometimes we take for granted that which is most precious.  And I don’t want my appreciation to be shallow.

White Christians Killing Blacks

A report has surfaced on RT claiming that ‘white Christians’ have one view of the black killings by police in the US, vs. blacks who see a different targeted pattern. Really? How naïve, chaotic and ridiculous.

So let the real statistics speak:

  1. Blacks make up less than 13% of the US population
  2. According to the last FBI data available, 2014, blacks accounted for 28% of all crimes
  3. Blacks accounted for 52% of all murders
  4. Blacks accounted for 66% of all rapes
  5. Blacks accounted for 56% of robberies and 63% of aggravated assault

While ‘profiling is technically not acceptable, it is reality. When you profile a perp for any given crime, ethnicity plays into that statistic. Profiling is what helps the authorities capture the criminal. For example, any more it is considered ‘not politically correct’ to profile, so when the media release the data on a crime asking for public assistance, they typically are now relegated to a benign description of the automobile if it is known, and the determination of gender. Of course, we can expect that the gender profile will most likely also be expelled as we have ‘gender identification’. So now the police are looking for a – person who may have been in the vicinity of such and such at such and such time. Great!

Everything else is prohibited.

Gee – let me keep my eyes out for a white Honda…

If I were a cop – I’d be looking for the statistic. Because that’s what helps keep the rate at the 52, 66 and 56 percentile instead of the 82, 90 and 100% percentile! NOT arresting people does not make crimes go down. It simply makes the arrest ‘rate’ go down for statistical purposes.

Calling the stats ‘white Christians’ vs ‘blacks’ – is reprehensible! The stats speak for themselves without further demonizing who says what – just look at the numbers. If 13% of the population is committing 52% of all murders, that is a statistic that deserves recognition. If despite that statistic, the police killed 1.7 times more whites than blacks, then the blacks should feel privileged given they commit more violent crimes! The fact remains that the number of deaths of whites is simply not a topic of discussion, because most whites believe the death was justifiable.

Yet, no matter the circumstances, no matter the demographics of the specific city or city district, the cry is fowl – when it should be – thank you!

Hillary Clinton would attempt to target our heart strings by stating – what if – what if it was whites… But it IS MS. Clinton, we just don’t have protest after every justifiable shooting! So if by percentage, blacks commit more of the violent crimes, and they are actually less likely to be shot by police, what is the reasoning? Because of the media portrayal.

How many white families sued the police?

Some – a few. There are certainly wrongful death suits. And they come from BOTH racial sides. But the disparity is large and remains a subdued statistic. And we as a united people need to understand from where the design for chaos is generated… it is not from the police, it is not from the people, the communities, the heart or the soul – it is created for entertainment by the Globalists who wish to re-invent our world within the One World Order – as masters.

I have never had more fear of my fellow man, than I have today. Ever. So that did not come from me – it came from the mainstream media and their masters. Take heed.