As if we needed more evidence that Barry Obama considers himself above the law.
He may want to remember that the Magna Carta figures heavily in US law. I know...dead white men and all that. But distilled, the Magna Carta stated that no one, not even the king (or in Barry's case, the Messiah), is above the law.
I don't believe for a second that Barry gives a damn about dead white men and Michelle doesn't even like live white people, so why should I expect him to obey the laws of the country he runs?
He started off with a blatant act of civil disobedience. "I won't give up my Blackberry". Ok, ok--but you're now the President of the United States. If you can't give up your Blackberry, DON'T RUN FOR PRESIDENT. There's this thing called the Presidential Records Act and every time he puts his fingers on that Blackberry he's violating the law. Yep--he's in violation of the very laws that he *swore* to uphold. He's an arrogant ass. Basically he's saying "eff" you, I'm president.
And now he's counteracted a law that he actually cosponsored that protects Inspectors General from preemptive firings (because inspectors general often investigate cases that could implicate high-level officials and appointees). The Inspector General of Americorps found that a big Obama supporter had misappropriated Americorps funds. The inspector received a cell phone call while he was driving that basically said "You have one hour to resign or we'll fire you". This is direct contravention of the law that Barry himself cosponsored. The law says that you must provide Congress 30 days notice and explain in writing why the individual is being fired.
Oh, and in four months Barry has quadrupled the US debt.
Congratulations America. You voted for change and we sure as hell got it.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Ray Nance passed away Sunday, 19 APR 2009.
Who is Ray Nance?, you may ask. Ray Nance was the last surviving member of a group which became known as the "Bedford Boys".
Bedford is a small town in Virginia. On 6 JUN 1944 the town lost a significant portion of its young male population, literally in a matter of minutes.
The Bedford Boys were a group of childhood friends who signed up in the 29th Infantry Division (National Guard). When Uncle Sam informed them that they had been activated to go to the war in Europe not one of them ran to Canada, faked a disease, shot himself in the foot...They put their chins out and did what they knew was their duty to their country.
Say what you want about National Guard, but the 29th Division waded ashore on Normandy and straight into a meat grinder.
In less than an hour 19 young men from a small town were killed. Within 12 hours, two more died.
They lost 22 men out of 30. It was the highest percentage loss of any town in America that day.
It's said that the Western Union messenger spent an entire day in Bedford delivering telegrams.
Ray Nance was the last of one of the finest groups of young men to walk the planet.
Godspeed.
Who is Ray Nance?, you may ask. Ray Nance was the last surviving member of a group which became known as the "Bedford Boys".
Bedford is a small town in Virginia. On 6 JUN 1944 the town lost a significant portion of its young male population, literally in a matter of minutes.
The Bedford Boys were a group of childhood friends who signed up in the 29th Infantry Division (National Guard). When Uncle Sam informed them that they had been activated to go to the war in Europe not one of them ran to Canada, faked a disease, shot himself in the foot...They put their chins out and did what they knew was their duty to their country.
Say what you want about National Guard, but the 29th Division waded ashore on Normandy and straight into a meat grinder.
In less than an hour 19 young men from a small town were killed. Within 12 hours, two more died.
They lost 22 men out of 30. It was the highest percentage loss of any town in America that day.
It's said that the Western Union messenger spent an entire day in Bedford delivering telegrams.
Ray Nance was the last of one of the finest groups of young men to walk the planet.
Godspeed.
Friday, October 17, 2008
I reek of gasoline. I mean, I am trailing a plume behind me. I am soaked in the stuff.
Why? Because the legislators in this state are smarter than me (so they think) and have forbidden normal gasoline cans in favor of the so-called "safety can". I have spilled more gasoline over the past five years using the "safety can" than I have cumulatively in 40+ years of using normal gas cans with a spout.
The "safety can" has a spout that you have to stick into a tank and depress in order to dispense the gas. Sounds good in theory, but there is no air inlet, so immediately the can starts to pull a vacuum. The gas then begins to sputter and splash. You have to repeatedly pull the can out of the tank, depress the gas-soaked spout with your bare hands to introduce air pressure into the can and then stick it back into the tank. Then repeat.
So far the environmental safety can has caused me to dump more gasoline than the Exxon Valdize.
Someone went to the legislature and took some people golfing, to a restaurant; all the while talking about this wonderful invention that is going to save lives, the environment and all.
Well, it's a piece of junk and like I said, I've spilled more gasoline with it than I have over a lifetime of "normal" gas cans.
Why? Because the legislators in this state are smarter than me (so they think) and have forbidden normal gasoline cans in favor of the so-called "safety can". I have spilled more gasoline over the past five years using the "safety can" than I have cumulatively in 40+ years of using normal gas cans with a spout.
The "safety can" has a spout that you have to stick into a tank and depress in order to dispense the gas. Sounds good in theory, but there is no air inlet, so immediately the can starts to pull a vacuum. The gas then begins to sputter and splash. You have to repeatedly pull the can out of the tank, depress the gas-soaked spout with your bare hands to introduce air pressure into the can and then stick it back into the tank. Then repeat.
So far the environmental safety can has caused me to dump more gasoline than the Exxon Valdize.
Someone went to the legislature and took some people golfing, to a restaurant; all the while talking about this wonderful invention that is going to save lives, the environment and all.
Well, it's a piece of junk and like I said, I've spilled more gasoline with it than I have over a lifetime of "normal" gas cans.
Monday, May 26, 2008
As I've done for some time now, a couple of thoughts for Memorial Day. Not my thoughts, but those of a man much more intelligent and articulate than I, United States Marine Corps Chaplain Denis Edward O'Brien.
Before I get to Father O'Brien's writings, a couple of thoughts--We (my wife, two children and I), never, ever miss a Memorial Day parade. We just don't. I served ten years in Special Forces and put my wife through hell in the process. But she has her own job and has spent almost thirty years knowing she has been saving lives, but she can't say who or where. It's a sort of double-dose of hell for her. She's never worn a uniform, but she's contributed every bit much as I have (more, actually) without recognition. She bears no medals, but knows that she has prevented some deaths.
When the Cadillac convertibles with the 90-year old men pass by tomorrow, I'll draw to attention and salute. It may seem sort of pretentious or as though I'm drawing attention to myself, but none of the above applies. It will be a sincere gesture to men and women better than I.
Here are Father O'Brien's thoughts:
WHAT IS A VET?
Some veterans bear visible signs of their service: a missing limb, a
jagged scar, a certain look in the eye. Others may carry the evidence
inside them: a pin holding a bone together, a piece of shrapnel in the
leg - or perhaps another sort of inner steel: the soul's ally forged in
the refinery of adversity. Except in parades, however, the men and women
who have kept America safe wear no badge or emblem. You can't tell a vet
just by looking.
What is a vet?
He is the cop on the beat who spent six months in Saudi Arabia sweating
two gallons a day making sure the armored personnel carriers didn't run
out of fuel.
He is the barroom loudmouth, dumber than five wooden planks, whose
overgrown frat-boy behavior is outweighed a hundred times in the cosmic
scales by four hours of exquisite bravery near the 38th parallel.
She - or he - is the nurse who fought against futility and went to sleep
sobbing every night for two solid years in Da Nang.
He is the POW who went away one person and came back another - or didn't
come back AT ALL.
He is the Quantico drill instructor who has never seen combat - but has
saved countless lives by turning slouchy, no-account rednecks and gang
members into Marines, and teaching them to watch each other's backs.
He is the parade - riding Legionnaire who pins on his ribbons and medals
with a prosthetic hand.
He is the career quartermaster who watches the ribbons and medals pass
him by.
He is the three anonymous heroes in The Tomb Of The Unknowns, whose
presence at the Arlington National Cemetery must forever preserve the
memory of all the anonymous heroes whose valor died unrecognized with
them on the battlefield or in the ocean's sunless deep.
He is the old guy bagging groceries at the supermarket - palsied now and
aggravatingly slow - who helped liberate a Nazi death camp and who
wishes all day long that his wife were still alive to hold him when the
nightmares come.
He is an ordinary and yet an extraordinary human being - a person who
offered some of his life's most vital years in the service of his
country, and who sacrificed his ambitions so others would not have to
sacrifice theirs.
He is a soldier and a savior and a sword against the darkness, and he is
nothing more than the finest, greatest testimony on behalf of the
finest, greatest nation ever known.
So remember, each time you see someone who has served our country, just
lean over and say Thank You. That's all most people need, and in most
cases it will mean more than any medals they could have been awarded or
were awarded.
Father Denis Edward O'Brien, USMC
IT IS THE SOLDIER
"It is the soldier, not the reporter,
Who has given us freedom of the press.
It is the soldier, not the poet,
Who has given us freedom of speech.
It is the soldier, not the campus organizer,
Who has given us the freedom to demonstrate.
It is the soldier,
Who salutes the flag,
Who serves beneath the flag,
And whose coffin is draped by the flag,
Who allows the protester to burn the flag."
=A9Father Denis Edward O'Brien, USMC
Before I get to Father O'Brien's writings, a couple of thoughts--We (my wife, two children and I), never, ever miss a Memorial Day parade. We just don't. I served ten years in Special Forces and put my wife through hell in the process. But she has her own job and has spent almost thirty years knowing she has been saving lives, but she can't say who or where. It's a sort of double-dose of hell for her. She's never worn a uniform, but she's contributed every bit much as I have (more, actually) without recognition. She bears no medals, but knows that she has prevented some deaths.
When the Cadillac convertibles with the 90-year old men pass by tomorrow, I'll draw to attention and salute. It may seem sort of pretentious or as though I'm drawing attention to myself, but none of the above applies. It will be a sincere gesture to men and women better than I.
Here are Father O'Brien's thoughts:
WHAT IS A VET?
Some veterans bear visible signs of their service: a missing limb, a
jagged scar, a certain look in the eye. Others may carry the evidence
inside them: a pin holding a bone together, a piece of shrapnel in the
leg - or perhaps another sort of inner steel: the soul's ally forged in
the refinery of adversity. Except in parades, however, the men and women
who have kept America safe wear no badge or emblem. You can't tell a vet
just by looking.
What is a vet?
He is the cop on the beat who spent six months in Saudi Arabia sweating
two gallons a day making sure the armored personnel carriers didn't run
out of fuel.
He is the barroom loudmouth, dumber than five wooden planks, whose
overgrown frat-boy behavior is outweighed a hundred times in the cosmic
scales by four hours of exquisite bravery near the 38th parallel.
She - or he - is the nurse who fought against futility and went to sleep
sobbing every night for two solid years in Da Nang.
He is the POW who went away one person and came back another - or didn't
come back AT ALL.
He is the Quantico drill instructor who has never seen combat - but has
saved countless lives by turning slouchy, no-account rednecks and gang
members into Marines, and teaching them to watch each other's backs.
He is the parade - riding Legionnaire who pins on his ribbons and medals
with a prosthetic hand.
He is the career quartermaster who watches the ribbons and medals pass
him by.
He is the three anonymous heroes in The Tomb Of The Unknowns, whose
presence at the Arlington National Cemetery must forever preserve the
memory of all the anonymous heroes whose valor died unrecognized with
them on the battlefield or in the ocean's sunless deep.
He is the old guy bagging groceries at the supermarket - palsied now and
aggravatingly slow - who helped liberate a Nazi death camp and who
wishes all day long that his wife were still alive to hold him when the
nightmares come.
He is an ordinary and yet an extraordinary human being - a person who
offered some of his life's most vital years in the service of his
country, and who sacrificed his ambitions so others would not have to
sacrifice theirs.
He is a soldier and a savior and a sword against the darkness, and he is
nothing more than the finest, greatest testimony on behalf of the
finest, greatest nation ever known.
So remember, each time you see someone who has served our country, just
lean over and say Thank You. That's all most people need, and in most
cases it will mean more than any medals they could have been awarded or
were awarded.
Father Denis Edward O'Brien, USMC
IT IS THE SOLDIER
"It is the soldier, not the reporter,
Who has given us freedom of the press.
It is the soldier, not the poet,
Who has given us freedom of speech.
It is the soldier, not the campus organizer,
Who has given us the freedom to demonstrate.
It is the soldier,
Who salutes the flag,
Who serves beneath the flag,
And whose coffin is draped by the flag,
Who allows the protester to burn the flag."
=A9Father Denis Edward O'Brien, USMC
Thursday, April 03, 2008
SSG Matt Maupin's remains have been recovered and identified by US Forces.
SSG Maupin was declared missing in action after the fuel convoy in which he was driving was ambushed outside of Baghdad.
After that he was seen in a film in which he was forced to the floor while masked Islamic terrorists stood around him. After that, he wasn't seen again until last week.
Get captured by western forces and you go to Guantanamo, where the guards put on gloves to handle your (provided free of charge) copy of the Koran and every detainee gains weight. Or, at worst, you go to Abu Ghraib where you will still get the same treatment, but where once upon a time some stressed out kids who had friends that died on the streets of Iraq took it on themselves to play silly games with the detainees.
OR--you can get captured by the Islamists, in which case you have two options. You can either get shot in the back of your head, or you can get your head sawed off with a pocket knife. Oh, and only God and the Islamist bastards know what ensues between the capture and the execution. Somehow I'm thinking it's not like a stay in Guantanamo.
It literally, and I do mean "literally", keeps me awake nights pondering what SSG Maupin and others went through at the hands of those who claim to be acting on behalf of the "religion of love".
I can only wish SSG Maupin Godspeed.
SSG Maupin was declared missing in action after the fuel convoy in which he was driving was ambushed outside of Baghdad.
After that he was seen in a film in which he was forced to the floor while masked Islamic terrorists stood around him. After that, he wasn't seen again until last week.
Get captured by western forces and you go to Guantanamo, where the guards put on gloves to handle your (provided free of charge) copy of the Koran and every detainee gains weight. Or, at worst, you go to Abu Ghraib where you will still get the same treatment, but where once upon a time some stressed out kids who had friends that died on the streets of Iraq took it on themselves to play silly games with the detainees.
OR--you can get captured by the Islamists, in which case you have two options. You can either get shot in the back of your head, or you can get your head sawed off with a pocket knife. Oh, and only God and the Islamist bastards know what ensues between the capture and the execution. Somehow I'm thinking it's not like a stay in Guantanamo.
It literally, and I do mean "literally", keeps me awake nights pondering what SSG Maupin and others went through at the hands of those who claim to be acting on behalf of the "religion of love".
I can only wish SSG Maupin Godspeed.
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
I have some more nominations in the "Hometown Heroes" category.
Trail's End Popcorn is a company that, as far as I can tell, exists solely as a supplier of fund-raising popcorn for the Boy Scouts. Popcorn sales are a big event every year, sort of the equivalent of Girl Scout cookies, though not nearly as tasty. Each troop even has a popcorn chairperson, dubbed the "Popcorn Colonel". Corny, indeed (pun intended), but it works.
Well, Trail's End donated $25,000 worth of popcorn to the Iraqi Scouts. Good for them.
I worked my way up to the job title of Associate Scientist, but after getting hurt and getting discharged from the Army, I started out as a shipping/receiving guy at a biotech firm. I learned all sorts of things about the various shipping companies such as FEDEX vs. UPS (go UPS) and then a small company called DHL. DHL doesn't go everywhere on the planet, but they do one hell of a job with the places they do go. A real class act. Well, guess who shipped the popcorn to Iraq free of charge...
And then there's Minnesota state representative Bob Dettmer. Rep. Dettmer was there for the guys and gals on the Vets for Freedom National Heroes Tour. That alone makes him a hero in my book. Representatives, both state and federal, are notoriously difficult to get in touch with if you're not in their district. I wrote Rep. Dettmer an email thanking him for his support of the tour and not only did he get the email, but he replied to it personally, even to the point of including my name in his response. A great guy.
So, three more heroes: Trail's End, DHL and Minnesota Rep. Bob Dettmer.
Trail's End Popcorn is a company that, as far as I can tell, exists solely as a supplier of fund-raising popcorn for the Boy Scouts. Popcorn sales are a big event every year, sort of the equivalent of Girl Scout cookies, though not nearly as tasty. Each troop even has a popcorn chairperson, dubbed the "Popcorn Colonel". Corny, indeed (pun intended), but it works.
Well, Trail's End donated $25,000 worth of popcorn to the Iraqi Scouts. Good for them.
I worked my way up to the job title of Associate Scientist, but after getting hurt and getting discharged from the Army, I started out as a shipping/receiving guy at a biotech firm. I learned all sorts of things about the various shipping companies such as FEDEX vs. UPS (go UPS) and then a small company called DHL. DHL doesn't go everywhere on the planet, but they do one hell of a job with the places they do go. A real class act. Well, guess who shipped the popcorn to Iraq free of charge...
And then there's Minnesota state representative Bob Dettmer. Rep. Dettmer was there for the guys and gals on the Vets for Freedom National Heroes Tour. That alone makes him a hero in my book. Representatives, both state and federal, are notoriously difficult to get in touch with if you're not in their district. I wrote Rep. Dettmer an email thanking him for his support of the tour and not only did he get the email, but he replied to it personally, even to the point of including my name in his response. A great guy.
So, three more heroes: Trail's End, DHL and Minnesota Rep. Bob Dettmer.
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