F#%k The Police! (while they remain strong and loyal to us!)

Too often there are articles concerning the conduct of police officers in the news. As of late, in Dallas; yet another story of a police officer using less than perfect judgment. We can speculate on racism, we speculate on corruptness; but what really happened in Dallas that day? Defied power, authority and control is what happened.

“I have my lights and sirens and they are not stopping! They know to stop! Unless they have something to hide.”

And let’s face it he was right, in part. Or unless there is something more urgent in their lives than him with his lights and sirens. To us that assumption makes complete sense, but to a police officer that is not a conclusion they are apt to jump to. Something more urgent than a police officer in pursuit? Yeah, a dying mother I think constitutes being more important.

“I see him; he will just have to wait until we get to the hospital.” Defied power, authority and control. Three elements that make police officers successful all rebuked in a display defiance due to a sense of greater urgency. Once on the scene police officer sought to gain power, authority and control.

What makes this incident stand out is this time the defiance was not a lie. Police officers get lied to all day everyday and this time the police officer was faced with the truth. People hide drugs in diapers being babies and make up the most outlandish stories to get out of the least of infractions. Could this have been handled any differently? Absolutely. He could have escorted the family inside, verified the story and called it fair and square. He would have drawn accolades for his understanding and cooperative nature. He instead took it personally. I don’t think this police officer is a racist, I simply think he felt the need to reestablish his power and authority – at a very bad time.

Things like this make us forget what police officers actually do on a daily basis. They make us forget the risks that they take t preserve the rights of citizen they have never met, don’t know and in some cases will never know; even after putting their lives on the line to do so.

Trooper Mike Haynes succumbed to injuries sustained five days earlier when a car being operated by an intoxicated driver struck his patrol car head-on on US 93 near Kalispell.

The drunk driver was driving the wrong way on the highway when the collision occurred at approximately 2:40 am. The intoxicated driver was also killed in the collision.

Trooper Haynes had served with the Montana Highway Patrol for 2 1/2 years. He is survived by his wife, two young children, and parents.

Officer John Hege and Sergeant Mark Dunakin were shot and killed during a traffic stop at 74th Avenue and MacArthur Boulevard. During the stop, the driver opened fire, killing Sergeant Dunakin and mortally wounding Officer Hege. Citizens who witnessed the incident called 911 and started CPR on both officers.

The suspect fled on foot, leading to an intense manhunt by dozens of officers from the Oakland Police Department, California Highway Patrol, and Alameda County Sheriff’s Department.

At approximately 3:30 pm, the Oakland Police Department received an anonymous tip that the suspect was barricaded inside an apartment building on 74th Avenue.

Officers first attempted to negotiate with the suspect, but when that failed a SWAT team was sent into the location to apprehend him. As the SWAT officers approached, the suspect opened fired with a rifle, killing Sergeant Ervin Romans and Sergeant Daniel Sakai, and wounding a third officer. Officers returned fire, killing the 26-year-old male suspect.

It was later determined that the suspect had an extensive violent criminal history and was on parole for assault with a deadly weapon. At the time of the incident he had a no-bail parole warrant.

Sergeant Daniel Sakai and Sergeant Ervin Romans, SWAT team members, were killed when they attempted to apprehend a suspect that had earlier in the day shot and killed Sergeant Mark Dunakin and mortally wounded Officer John Hege during a traffic stop.

At approximately 1:15 pm, Sergeant Dunakin and Officer Hege, patrolling on motorcycle, pulled over a car on a traffic stop at 74th Avenue and MacArthur Boulevard. During the stop, the driver opened fire, killing the officers. Citizens who witnessed the incident called 911 and started CPR on both officers.

The suspect fled on foot, leading to an intense manhunt by dozens of officers from the Oakland Police Department, California Highway Patrol, and Alameda County Sheriff’s Department.

At approximately 3:30 pm, the Oakland Police Department received an anonymous tip that the suspect was barricaded inside an apartment building on 74th Avenue.

Officers first attempted to negotiate with the suspect, but when that failed a SWAT team was sent into the location to apprehend him. As the SWAT officers approached, the suspect opened fired with a rifle, killing Sergeants Ervin Romans and Daniel Sakai and wounding a third officer. Officers returned fire, killing the 26-year-old male suspect.

It was later determined that the suspect had an extensive violent criminal history and was on parole for assault with a deadly weapon. At the time of the incident he had a no-bail parole warrant.

Sergeant Sakai had served with the Oakland Police Department for nine years.

Sergeant Ervin Romans and Sergeant Daniel Sakai, SWAT team members, were killed when they attempted to apprehend a suspect that had earlier in the day shot and killed Sergeant Mark Dunakin and mortally wounded Officer John Hege during a traffic stop.

At approximately 1:15 pm, Sergeant Dunakin and Officer Hege, patrolling on motorcycle, pulled over a car on a traffic stop at 74th Avenue and MacArthur Boulevard. During the stop, the driver opened fire, killing the officers. Citizens who witnessed the incident called 911 and started CPR on both officers.

The suspect fled on foot, leading to an intense manhunt by dozens of officers from the Oakland Police Department, California Highway Patrol, and Alameda County Sheriff’s Department.

At approximately 3:30 pm, the Oakland Police Department received an anonymous tip that the suspect was barricaded inside an apartment building on 74th Avenue.

Officers first attempted to negotiate with the suspect, but when that failed a SWAT team was sent into the location to apprehend him. As the SWAT officers approached, the suspect opened fired with a rifle, killing Sergeants Ervin Romans and Daniel Sakai and wounding a third officer. Officers returned fire, killing the 26-year-old male suspect.

It was later determined that the suspect had an extensive violent criminal history and was on parole for assault with a deadly weapon. At the time of the incident he had a no-bail parole warrant.

Sergeant Romans had served with the Oakland Police Department for 13 years and had previously served with the United States Marine Corps.

Sergeant Mark Dunakin and Officer John Hege were shot and killed during a traffic stop at 74th Avenue and MacArthur Boulevard. During the stop, the driver opened fire, killing Sergeant Dunakin and mortally wounding Officer Hege. Citizens who witnessed the incident called 911 and started CPR on both officers.

The suspect fled on foot, leading to an intense manhunt by dozens of officers from the Oakland Police Department, California Highway Patrol, and Alameda County Sheriff’s Department.

At approximately 3:30 pm, the Oakland Police Department received an anonymous tip that the suspect was barricaded inside an apartment building on 74th Avenue.

Officers first attempted to negotiate with the suspect, but when that failed a SWAT team was sent into the location to apprehend him. As the SWAT officers approached, the suspect opened fired with a rifle, killing Sergeant Ervin Romans and Sergeant Daniel Sakai, and wounding a third officer. Officers returned fire, killing the 26-year-old male suspect.

It was later determined that the suspect had an extensive violent criminal history and was on parole for assault with a deadly weapon. At the time of the incident he had a no-bail parole warrant.

Sergeant Dunakin had served with the Oakland Police Department for 17 years and is survived by his wife and three children.

Corrections Officer Mark Parker succumbed to gunshot wounds sustained on January 10, 1984, in the Orange County Courthouse.

A suspect had gone to the courthouse with the intention of shooting a police officer who had given him a traffic ticket. The suspect entered a courtroom and exchanged gunfire with Deputy Harry Dalton, mortally wounding him. He then shot and killed Deputy Arnold Wilkerson in the courtroom and shot at the judge, but missed.

After exiting the courtroom he exchanged shots with another deputy in hallway. Officer Parker, who was unarmed, was caught in the crossfire while attempting to shield citizens in the hallway. He was left paralyzed from the chest down and required round-the-clock care for the remainder of his life.

The suspect was convicted of murder and executed in June of 2000. Officer Parker attended the execution.

Officer Parker had served with the Orange County Department of Corrections for only one year, and was 19 years old at the time of the shooting. He was later made an honorary deputy.

It has been a long week for police officers. Many of these names, faces and incidents are not familiar to most. A fallen police officer tends to be local news with emphasis not on the police officer and the things they were doing to protect and serve, but on all of the things wrong with the person that turned fine and courageous men and women into mere statistics aired locally. There is a problem when this face is more popular!

An offer’s whose mistaken actions outweigh and is more popular than those that have paid the ultimate price acting on the front lines of protecting civil liberties.

Currently there are more than 800,000 men and women in blue. We see “Protect and Serve” but perhaps do not really understand what lies underneath. The moment that your inalienable rights are so much as suggested as being infringed; these men and women are there. When your safety “could” be jeopardized; these men and women are there. A lapse in focus on a busy day; these men and women are there trying to get your keys out of your car for you. Helping you change a flat tire on a busy highway while they direct you stand off to side safe putting their lives on the line to help you just get home from work. And in thanks we glorify the less than perfect.

They put their personal feelings aside to uphold the constitution for all. For a while they were all heroes following the terrorist attacks on September 11th and honored around the nation for their heroic actions.

But as time pushes on, our memories fail and our perverse desire for the undesirable forces our memories to ebb the good to find reason, justification and rationalization usher in the bad. This is not fair representation of what these men and women do for us. We repeatedly snub our noses at them while they unyielding go forth with a sense of duty that most Americans have no way of understanding.

What if; one day they got fed up and said F#&k You back! What if; one day they decided that enough is enough and our pretentious attitudes towards them would no longer be tolerated? What if; one day the just walked off the job and told us to fend for ourselves? Given the way we treat them, we have every right to do so! They won’t of course because their loyalty to us far exceeds our loyalty to them!

If you haven't forgiven yourself something, how can you forgive others?
Dolores Huerta

Perhaps our inability to forgive them in these current times is a greater reflection of ourselves!

The US is planning to boycott the UN conference on racism.

Many are assuming the US boycott is about what the US has to hide as far as racism within our country. Several things come to mind on this. I really do not think that this is so much an issue of our nation being perceived as racist by other nations, but more of our nation's support of Israel. The cited reason for the boycott is unflattering verbiage that stands to (further) darken Israel's reputation in its handling of Palestine and Muslims in general.

Agree or disagree with the war, truce, war, cease fire, war relationship between the Muslims and Israel, the bottom line is that Israel refuses to ebb to the Arabs. One first has to understand the history of the conflict and our unyielding support of Israel in their efforts to both claim and keep a homeland (Zionism).

Jews started entering what is now Israel in the 1920's and 1930's and given statehood by a fledgling UN in the 1950's. The Arabs (Muslims) were strongly opposed to this and fought their immigration both politically and violently. Problem was the Jews kept kicking their asses every time they were attacked. The Jews were given half the land by the UN and were again attacked. The results were the same and Israel pushed the fight deeper and deeper into Palestine and forced the Palestinian Arabs into the final quarter of the territory which made over 700,000 Arabs refugees who sought shelter in tent cities in Syria. The UN offered to take these refugees in but they insisted in remaining refugees while they waited for the Muslims to again reclaim their land from the Jews. Under political pressure from Arab states and the UN, Israel withdrew – not from being forced out. Their withdrawal was viewed as an Arab and Muslim victory and not a political concession. The "victory" fueled the motivation of Muslims to fight and they have relentlessly attacked the Jews in forms of war and terrorism since. For Jews in this Muslim "holy land" there is no peace in life and there is no peace of mind. It is either fight or be again run out of a homeland. So, they fight and we (America) support their fight.

One way of looking at this is from the Islamic perspective. Jews (a much hated infidel) is not only living on their holy land, but Israel has persecuted and oppressed its people! This religion is notorious for its hatred of infidels to begin with, when you add the fact that they keep getting defeated by said infidels it serves only to add insult to injury to a very proud people.

Our support of Israel is largely why we (America) fall under attack by Muslims and Muslim Extremists – and of course, we too are infidels in their eyes. In reading the current definitions of infidels in Islamic propaganda you repeatedly find Christians, Jews and Atheists /Pagans; which has replaced Polytheists. (To us, Atheists and Pagans are two completely different things but to them they are one in the same). Semantics aside, Islam revolts against all that which is not of its own religion. It is a religion that is both written and designed to conquer all religions that are not Islam. The Koran is a "timeless" write that directly reads to oppress, tax, and fight to the finish against any person or religion that refuses to accept it (Islam) as world order.

That is of particular importance at this time because the new administration is under the impression that this is an enemy in which we can simply disengage and walk away from. We look to draw down the troops in Iraq, we look to politically speak directly to a government that does not separate church and state (not to say that we do) with a "we are not your foe" statement as if these acts will allow us to fly under the radar against an enemy that stands against us by its very design. Our withdrawal, just as Israel's withdrawal will be viewed as a victory and new violence will be garnished as it reward. (Mark my words on that)!

In our defense of Israel and our boycott of this conference; "…unless the final document is changed to drop all references to Israel and the defamation of religion". The U.S. and Israel walked out midway through that eight-day meeting over a draft resolution that singled out Israel for criticism and likened Zionism — the movement to establish and maintain a Jewish state — to racism. The anti Zionist movement is purely Muslim and in their eyes are grounds for religious genocide. Canada (by the way) is also looking to boycott the conference.

The irony here is that the conference is named Durban II. The initial conference (Durban) in 2001 was dominated by clashes over the Middle East and slavery. Here we have a conference that is enabling religious oppression by Islam at the expense of the only Jewish State in existence in the name of racism directed against the Jew that eight short years ago stood against the Middle East. (The word hypocrisy should slamming into your temples right about now). Should the conference let out and globally speak against Israel, the country and religion will be set back more than 50 years of evolutionary development. The consequence of such actions could lead to the fall of Judaism given that more than 48% of its followers live in Israel. This is exactly how Zoroastrianism fell to Islam (less the political involvement of global sympathizers). This is what Islam does; it eradicates competing world religions and forces violence through intolerance. (This is not to be taken as a slight to Muslims. It is simply stating the design and nature of this religion). Jihad's Future speaks to this outside of the conference.

Boycotting is the new administration's way of not supporting the UN's stance against Israel. In not supporting it, our current administration assumes a very passive and cowardly role. We wish to not further agitate the Muslims by speaking in support of Israel and therefore against them. We will be dragged into this regardless. Shortly following the conference (should it go forth on the current agenda) Muslims will have found both political and global validation in their agenda of intolerance and aggressively move forward against Zionism. We will either assist Israel militarily or we will (in our life time) watch the fall of a world religion.

You may note that the founding Monotheistic religion is Zoroastrianism. It was born in the Middle East but is now considered an Indian religion because Islam forced the few remaining followers out of the Middle East after killing the rest. Zoroastrianism now comprises .07% of encompassed world religions; the FOUNDING monotheistic religion was written of the books as a Middle Eastern religion and eradicated by a religion it gave birth to. This religion did not lose followers to more progressive religions; its followers were slaughtered, enslaved and driven out by Islam. Judaism is next.

As much as our boycott seems that it is about what we have to hide as a nation, it's not. It's about Israel, it's about religion and it's about the US becoming passive and cowardly under the new administration. Only by standing firm can we gain respect and stop such acts. In effect, our passivity is ignorantly enabling the Muslim movement of dominance. One then has to question what happens next. Understanding Islam, I think it obvious. They will seek new territory and continue efforts in Africa to push Christianity out. It will look to deepen its grip in Europe and gain further economic strength. Then its aggression will intensify here in the US.

If this sounds in the least bit farfetched take a quick look at the progression of Islam. Study the Koran. Learn about Jihad. Notice how in the religion of Islam "love" is used. Identify how martyrdom is rewarded. And then ask how can there ever be peace with a religion such as Islam gaining such political strength through its corrosion and corruption of the UN. There are simply no nice answers to be found.

I am not anti Muslim. I am however anti oppression. The Jews are lifelong victims of oppression by Muslims. A great deal of the genocide carried out against the Jews by the Germans was orchestrated by a banished Muslim leader and his followers when they fled Palestine to Libya. And for me, therein lies the problem. We like to think that conferences such as Durban II are about us. Hell, we like to think everything is about us but we forget to look back before we look forward. In looking back we can gain better perspective on the events of today and can begin to draw reasonable conclusions as to what lies in store in future years. It is from that perspective that I gauge this on. How the UN can draft a conference that enables anti Zionist temperament is of grave concern. The very organization that granted Jews statehood now moves to sign its death certificate and all because Israel refuses to succumb as both a state and religion to Islam.

To me (and this is just my opinion) the UN now has an Islamic agenda; while it may or may not fully understand the history of Islam, this agenda is ill fated for all but Muslims. Israel reserves the right to fight so long as they continue to fall under attack by Muslims and Muslim Extremists – just as you and I do, just as America does and just as any nation or any people do. Fighting oppression, enslavement and for your home is beyond human in terms of condition. It is a natural condition innate to all living creatures.

The worst thing that can happen is the UN revokes statehood at which time ethnic cleansing will commence and the Middle East will erupt in full war as Israel falls. Pulling out of Iraq serves this agenda as it will allow Muslims to concentrate efforts and resources on Israel. The best thing that can happen is this issue is stricken from the conference and the Muslim agenda goes unaddressed as it pertains to Israel in this forum and is thus not globally validated. The best simply meaning delaying the inevitable fight that is to come shortly after our withdrawal. The fight will be less popular from a Muslim perspective, but they are going to fight. Israel is no slouch. The fight will get ugly and get ugly fast but with the added resources, Israel this time may very well fall and history will again begin repeat itself as we watch the destruction of a religion because it is simply not of the Islamic religion. (Or Israel can pay the Muslims to coexist as the Islamic religion is written). Like I said, there are no nice answers on this.

As one of my readers asked me not to long ago on this issue with Islam and Judaism; "Is this our fight?" My best answer is it will be our fight sooner or later; and the later the fight the worse the fight. The problem in letting it happen is the growth and spread of Islam. Fighting a smaller foe today is always better than fighting a bigger stronger foe tomorrow; but again, the fight will be fought. No one likes the idea of it but that's just how things are in today's world. The global fighting you see is ALL BASED ON RELIGION. The political wars we saw to stop the spread of communism and non democratic governments are gone. Today's fighting is different but the ideology is the same. One group feels the other is different and therefore bad. Until Islam stops (or is stopped) these are the new wars of the current age.

Anything that violently lashes out at everything that is different to it will eventually come knocking on your front door. These people knocked on ours very noticeably on September 11^th 2001. Failing to stop its progression only guarantees they will again come knocking. To teach them to stop knocking, you must prove to them they never again want to as much as walk the path to your door. This is exactly what we are currently undoing. Closing Gitmo. Releasing detainees while the fight continues (both administrations with more blame going to Bush's in this case) and attempting to try detainees as if the robbed a Best Buy or a Walmart. We are trying to fight a politically correct war with more concern of being liked as a nation than being feared and respected as a nation. The message that sends is that we are weak. We are the sheep cowering from the wolf. They will be back because we are not showing them it is in their best interests to stay away.

Some military leaders such as General Black Jack Pershing understood how to handle such threats in terms that Muslim Extremists could understand. Until we bring that temperament and understanding back, this is the way the world will be.

We can convict a US Marine for over reacting a killing an Iraqi man but we struggle to bring the masterminds of 9/11 to trial. We have detained and released a Muslim Extremist who is now the head Taliban officer fighting against the troop buildup in Afghanistan. Do we really think this is the way to be respected by an enemy?

The Durban II UN Conference on Global Racism as written today in its agenda poses Islamic Militant temperament as correct and undermines the need of understanding how this religion poses a threat to all ways of life. A boycott is a cowardly act. It is the US stating that it is scared to go forth and publically stand up against Muslim Extremists, Terrorists and support the next nation that will fall victim to it. Seeing things like this validates that living in war is better than living in fear and denial. Putting things off only leaves them unfinished. Somehow we have to realize that this is not a nice world, this is not a peaceful world and come to the reality at some point we must either take measures to stop Muslim agendas or fall victim to them.

It is not a crime to be both liberal and have a set of nuts; it's just that the two (like Islam and everything else in the world) cannot manage to coexist. And I thought Carter was bad!

 

-T

 

 

 

 

 

The Flag

Long May I Wave

I AM THE FLAG OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
By Howard Schnauber

I am the flag of the United States of America.
My name is "Old Glory".
I fly atop the world's tallest buildings.
I stand watch in America's halls of justice.
I fly majestically over institutions of learning.
I stand guard with power in the world.
Look up and see me.

I stand for peace, honor, truth and justice.
I stand for freedom.
I am confident.
I am arrogant.
I am proud.

When I am flown with my fellow banners,
My head is a little higher,
My colors a little truer.

I bow to no one!
I am recognized all over the world.
I am worshipped -- I am saluted.
I am loved -- I am revered.
I am respected -- and I am feared.

I have fought in every battle of every war
for more then 200 years.
I was flown at Valley Forge, Gettysburg,
Shiloh and Appomattox.
I was there at San Juan Hill,
the trenches of France,
in the Argonne Forest, Anzio, Rome
and the beaches of Normandy, Guam,
Okinawa, Korea, and Vietnam.
I was there. I led my troops.
I was dirty, battle-weary and tired,
but my soldiers cheered me
And I was proud.

I have been burned, torn and trampled
on the streets of countries I have helped set free.
It does not hurt, for I am invincible.

I have been soiled upon, burned, torn
and trampled on the streets of my country.
And when it's by those whom I've served in battle -- it hurts.
But I shall overcome -- for I am strong.

I have slipped the bonds of Earth
and stood watch over the uncharted frontiers of space
from my vantage point on the moon.
I have borne silent witness
to all of America's finest hours.
But my finest hours are yet to come.

When I am torn into strips
and used as bandages
for my wounded comrades on the battlefield,
When I am flown at half-mast to honor my soldier,
Or when I lie in the trembling arms
of a grieving parent at the grave of their fallen son or daughter,
I am proud.

MY NAME IS "OLD GLORY".
LONG MAY I WAVE.
DEAR GOD IN HEAVEN,
LONG MAY I WAVE.

Moron of the Month

This has been sitting in draft form for the better part of ten days until I got one too many hate mails last night for being late with Moron of the Month.

Enter "Murray". If you are from the north; that’s Murrie. If you are from the Kountray-fied south; that’s Murrauh. If you are from Boston; well you are pretty much assed out because there are too many R’s in his name for you to even begin to pronounce.

Either way one chooses to pronounce it (or not for my Bostonian readers), "tool" is always acceptable.

Murray’s story comes by way of a friend in the Southern AZ region. He got to meet Murray as he was rushed into the ER of a local hospital.

Murray just is not that smart of a guy. Not a bad guy, just that he is not a smart guy either. We all know the type. The guys that get themselves into "situations" because they do stupid things; it’s not that they really get into "trouble". We all have friends like that.

(Duke Farley from "Hot Butter Beans" fame was like that. In fact, it was how I got to know him. In Kindergarten Duke got bored and stuck his head through the back supports of his chair. Now I watched him do this. He diligently worked for what had to be a half hour trying to squeeze his fat ass head through that tiny little slot on the back of the chair between the two wood slats. As always determination pays, and his head popped through there just like he was being born all over. And much like Ms Farley would have reacted, the chair was having nothing to do with him going back the direction from which he came and thus, he and that chair were stuck like two Chihuahuas in heat. All that pushing made his ears swell. It was like a safety lock on a door. He was going nowhere and the chair remained on his head for four and half hours - the best first day of Kindergarten ever).

Not that Duke was bad, it is just that he would find himself in situations that could have easily been prevented.

Mr. Murray was of much the same. His grandfather detested the fact that Murray was so stupid and would demand that his mother send him down to his remote ranch to help with some work "to toughen the lad up and make him grow some common sense with his balls." (The irony in that comment will soon make sense).

Murray’s grandfather is himself a hot mess. Old school in every sense of the word, he believes that America is America and one should not enter without appropriate approval. Complicating this issue, Ol’ GrandPa Murray’s ranch is waaaaay down south in AZ and pretty much sits on the border of Mexico. His Devine idea was to put an electric fence around his property to "shock the piss" out of any would be trespassers. He had the fence installed and got a kick out of the occasional BUZZZZ POP in the wee morning hours.

Re-enter Murray our tool in question. Murray arrived one early morning to help Ol’ GandPa Murray around the ranch. On his chore list was the electric fence. With the size of the ranch in mind Murray grabs some beer and jumps on the AVT and off he goes to first tend to the animals before heading out to the fence.

This global warming winter we had our fair share of snow in AZ and on this fateful morning snow covered the ground as Murray blazed his way out to the fence. Five beers later Murray arrives. With nature calling he begins to wonder if the fence has been turned off.

[There is a little trick to electric fences when there is snow on the ground. If the snow line stops at the fence; it’s on. If the snow runs through the fence; it (could be) off. Checking the switch and LOCKING IT TO THE OFF POSITION WHILE YOU TAKE THE KEY WITH YOU IS ALWAYS A GOOD IDEA. Unless you name is murray anyway.]

Our inebriated Murray decided to kill two birds with one stone and arched a golden flow of very temporary relief on the fence. BUZZZZ POP! and Murray made instant raisins out of his tater tots. I know as guys we can cut the flow of the golden stream in times of dire need but no man can cut the flow faster than that blue bolt was racing towards his soon to be prosthetic tool of a tool. The shock of the shock; not the shock itself but the shock of what got shocked sent Murray into shock. He lay in a penis smoldering heap awaiting rescue by Ol’ GrandPa Murray - who decided to drench the smoldering, shriveled appendage with nice cold beer. Our Murray was now wide and awake and screaming bloody murder. To silince the lad (And I guess to toughen him up a bit) Ol' GrandPa gives his raisins a nice hardy kick. (Good looking out pops)!

To the ER they go and greeted by the person who submitted the story an ER physician I have known for a few years. Doc Croc had never seen anything like this. Confused, he asked the obvious and got the answer he least expected. "My whiz grand son checked to see if the electric fence was on by taking a whiz on it. He started screaming so I gave him a good swift boot to the balls. If he wants to scream like a girl I could at least try to make the lad one." To which Doc Croc laughed so uncontrollably that he had to have another doc fill in for him.

What did we learn from Murray’s plight? Nothing at all. People do stupid things at stupid times, all with varying degrees of failure, but only one can be selected as Moron of the Month!

Congratulations Murray!

BUZZZZ POP!

-T

Are we on our side or not?

A few weeks ago I said it was time to bring back some old writes and see where they stand now as the economic, political and religious landscapes of the world change.

A rough draft of an article "Gitmo, Gitmo, Gitmo" drew its fair share of liberal fire. Problem is this is not a liberal v. conservative issue. It was under the Bush administration that these detainees began being released not obama.

My position is simply that once these people are detained; they should pretty much be left to rot in there. Jihad’s intent is the destruction of Christianity and Judaism. With these people at large, peace has about as much chance as a gold fish in a piranha tank. (Jihad’s Future).

So what has happened to bring this Gitmo issue back into the lime light? It is not the five going to trail for the 9/11 attacks (though I do have a draft on that); Mullah Abdullah Zakir, a former Gitmo detainee has resurfaced. Only he is now the new top Taiban operations officer in southern Afghanistan. His mission is to counter the US troop surge. Nice huh? A guy we had is now the man leading the attack against the buildup.

According to the Pentagon 18 released detainees have "returned to the fight" and 43 had returned to terrorist activities. That is 61 detainees that we had our mitts on that we have allowed to go back to bring harm to troops abroad. Does this not seem in the least bit counterproductive? I said in Feb that Gitmo will only work if those detained remain detained. As things are turning out; one would be hard pressed to argue that. Closing Gitmo as we build up in Afghanistan is a concern because it was the only detention center designed for long term detainment. Do you mean to tell me then that we are going to bring everyone we detain back here for trail?

The reason Zakir was released was simply because they did not have the evidence needed to convict. This causes a huge issue for the men and women fighting this war under these bureaucratic conditions. Seeing things like this, these men and women know that if they "detain" a person, chances are good they will be back in the fight and that next encounter may not end well for our guys. If they instead put a nice hot 7.62 round through their brain housing group to keep them forevermore out of the fight; they get investigated to determine if the act was justified. The same attorneys that are trying these Muslim Extremists are trying our troops. Many say this war is not winnable. Under these rules, this war is not winnable though it very well could be. To again quote Cheney; "The United States needs to not so much be loved as it needs to be respected. Sometimes that requires us to take actions that generate controversy." Hell, Americans do not respect America right now and we think fighting a kinder and gentler war is the way to go about this. To try to convict and not kill your enemy? That will not work if our state prisons are releasing convicts because they cannot afford to house them. This simply means that they will be released back to the fight no matter what; convicted or not! Who do we really think we are fooling here?

We are struggling to put these 9/11 masterminds on trail that have all but admitted their roll in killing 3000 Americans but we have tried and convicted Sgt. Lawrence G. Hutchins for killing one Iraqi civilian in no time flat. Are we on our own side or not?

We will either learn to take the gloves and get down to business or we can continue to run in these same circles of doing the same thing over and over while we expect different results and better outcomes.

I am not saying this Marine Sgt was right in his actions but when you look and the results so far, one Iraqi man’s life has more value than the 3000 American lives lost on the 9/11 attacks. This does not have to be this difficult. Those captured need to remain out of the picture until such a time that this Muslim Extremist threat against the American way of life is neutralized. If they spend a life time "detained"; so be it. It is better that the world understands we mean business. This Mr. Nice Guy crap has got to stop. General Black Jack Pershing realized that respect meant taking the issues Muslim Extremists bring forth seriously and acting in a manner in which they can relate to garners both respect and positive results. Today his actions would have gotten him jailed, yet following his actions there was not another Muslim Extremist attack on Americans for 42 years. We have grown weak in our resolve to protect our way of life because we taken it for granted for too long.

"You may not be interested in war, but war is interested in you." The question that persists is whether we are truly interested and committed to bringing this war to an end. Under these political conditions we are interested in neither committing to it nor bringing closure to it because we lack the courage, nerve and resolve to do what needs to be done. Instead our interest is being "liked" by other nations as opposed to being once again respected by the world.

-T

A 13 Year Old Get It Right, Why Can't America?

Amazing what self education can do. An open mind and objective mind is the key sound reasoning. It is odd how so many cannot figure such things out and a kid can.

Fright Night

I was a bad kid. And at times a mean kid. The fact that I did something wrong, failed to listen or blatantly defied doing what I was told to do always resulted in one; an ass whoopin and two; me being pissed that I had yet again managed to get myself in trouble.

One Friday night a month all the kids were allowed to stay up as late as we wanted to watch horror movies. It was the big thing, reason alone for me to actually try to remember to keep my behind out of trouble for a day.

On one of these Friday’s I decided to act out. It really was not my fault, it was the cat’s fault!!! The damn thing was harassing me. I would walk through the livingroom and it would attack my ankles, I would sit on the couch and it would jump on me. That little bastard simply would not leave me alone! An hour of scratches later and it is time for this festering feline to go away for a while and I decide to lock it the basement. I snatch it up, open the basement door and sling it down the steps slamming and locking the door behind it - the whole time forgetting my aunt was down there doing laundry!

She was the cat lover, not me. And these cats were not to be mistreated. Throwing one down a flight of steps was a very bad idea, especially on a Fright Night!

Shit!

This was going to leave a mark! But after all, my aunt was locked in the basement too so if I had anything, it was time. Time to go eat some ice cream (I knew I would be getting none later). Time to hide some toys in my room (I was definitely going to have some alone time after my beating). And time to get some good old fashioned licks in on my little cousin.

My aunt had come up to the top of the steps and demanded I unlock the door - she was hardly in a position to DEMAND anything given the fact she was locked up and I had full access to the house. She banged away beneath me as I made my way up and down the steps going in and out of my room and savoring my fleeting time.

A flaw, my little punching bag of a cousin opened the door as I was coming back down the steps. I turned the corner only to find her standing in the living room looking for something to beat my ass with! I knew that’s what she was looking for and be damned if I was going to give her a chance to find it. The rational thing to do was make her act fast while her hands were empty. And that’s just what I did, I took my shoe off and threw it at my cousin to force her to beat me with her hands and not a belt.

She was like the Tasmanian Devil laying hot stings to any portion of my flailing body she could get her hands on! To that point in my life it was the worst beating my aunt had given me. "Have you lost your cotton pickin mind?" My behind was on FIRE! She had me by the arm and swatting me in circles until she tired out.

And then it was over. "You are going to make me kill you one day Terry." And she walked away. (Hmmm, she had never said THAT before. I think I just messed up).

The whole time my cousin Mark and his friends were in the back yard peering through the window watching me take this beating - and of course laughing. He came in with all smiles mocking my flailing and screaming act; which of course did not sit well.

I found myself pissed at my older and much larger cousin and wanted nothing more than to even the score; but in a safe way. He could kick my ass at the drop of a dime so I had to catch him off guard.

The movies start and we are all gathered around the television and my attention is more on him than it is the movie. Staring, contemplating when I hear... "Terry! Were you in this ice cream?!"

Damn it! I had forgotten about my little reign of household terror!

"Yes, Aunt Pauline! I only had a little bit though."

She made my scoop everyone’s ice cream and take it to them - I of course got none. Mark being the ass he was being that night demanded that I place his bowl on his lap. Me being the child I was; dumped it in his lap and instead of waiting for him to stomp a mud hole in my chest I jumped on him to get my licks in early. My aunt watched the entire thing and snatched me up (probably saving my life) and sent me to my room because I was so out of control that evening. On the way up the movie kept going through my head; one scene my cousin had jumped to when it came on. Perfect!

We lived in an old three story row home. To get to my room you had to walk through the bathroom on the second floor. To get to Mark’s room you had to walk through my room. (He was waaaay back there).
Sent to my room I immediately went to my bed and stuffed it with everything I could find to make it look as if I were sleeping in it and crawled under Mark’s bed. My reign of terror for the night had ended but my reign of horror had just begun.

Hours later Mark entered the my room and made a comment. "That’s right, you better be sleeping little punk!" (Yep, I’m sleeping alright! Let’s see who the punk is about to be here in a few minutes)!

And like clock work Mark falls asleep and as always his arm falls off the bed and hangs to the floor. Just as in the scene from the horror movie I grab his arm and start pulling him under the bed while I let out this crazed scream!

His reaction was sheer self pissing panic! LITERALLY! Pulling with all of my might I slowly begin to actually drag him under the bed. I decide to really make him panic and bite his arm and with the creepiest voice I could muster "mmmm Bloooood!!!"

You would have thought some one was being hacked to death in that back room!

Problem. This was actually going on for a little while and I never thought how to end it. I really could not eat his arm and once he figured out it was me I am stuck under the bed. He had locked the bathroom door and went back into his room (my uncle’s pet peeve)! The entire family was trying get through to the back room but could not. All they hear is Mark screaming bloody murder and my cries for blood. I am sure they were all as terrified as Mark was!

My uncle broke the door down and drug Mark out with such haste that I came flying out from under the bed with him.

Opps!

I saw my uncle man handle my oldest cousin once. He came home drunk and tried to pick a fight with a steel worker - my uncle. He picked my cousin up by the neck with one hand and pressed him against the wall. His feet were literally dangling. With the other hand he gave him a nice little love tap too the ribs. And for good measure, he threw him across the room. (That love tap broke three ribs); and I just got this monstrosity of a man out of bed in a panic at 4 in the morning!

"Hi Pops!" What else could I say? He looked more relieved that it was me under the bed than anything; to not ride that wave would be foolish. We all know that parents go from relieved to pissed in no time flat. Every now and then that can be offset by the right play.

"Hi Pops" was no such play. The huge hand was rapidly descending on me when my aunt saved me by rushing in the room. Once he heard her I think he realized what the out come was going to be had he actually picked me up.

"I am going to kill Terry one day!" And he just stormed out of the room.
(Hmmm, that was twice in one day. I think it is time to chill a bit; not a chance).

Mark was in a little urine soaked ball crying. Not only did I scare him, I almost sent him into shock. It took my aunt about ten minutes to calm him down and explain that "it was just Terry playing" before he actually looked around and realized he was alright. Of course there were bite marks on his arm but he was none the worse for wear.

It was then he realized the extent of the scare I had just put on him. Kids at that age show embarrassment through rage. It is their pride developing and anything taking a stab at their fragile pride has to be hostilely and hastily vanquished. Not me, not on this day. I had just terrified my bully of an older cousin into a urine soaked, weeping fetal ball. For the first time I maintained a strong advantage. To come after me from this point on meant you had to deal with me on my terms and I had proved that my terms were extreme and it would not end well.

As fast as he started to spring on me, he stopped. The thought of the consequences for the few licks just were not worth it. My aunt just shook her head and said, "Great." and took the traumatized Mark to get cleaned up.

Quickly I was moving up the food chain.

The more clever aggression I showed and the more I committed to the aggression, the more space I would have, the more I would be left alone and the more I could rule by consequence; not force. My older cousins began backing off because it became obvious that even though they were larger and stronger, I would stop at nothing to even the score; making it worse was the fact that there was no way to predict how or when I strike back.

I would be tested in my new found resolve but the consequences would be dire.

-T

Political Deception

OK, look. I realize that here I am in the midsts of “Liberal Land.” That conservative spot of red in a sea of blue. I freely embrace that and encourage retort in anything I write, discover, or pass forward. This submission is no different. Something I discovered out of boredome and could not help but pass it forward.

Wall Street Journal
March 6, 2009
Obama's Radicalism Is Killing the Dow

A financial crisis is the worst time to change the foundations of American capitalism.

By MICHAEL J. BOSKIN

It's hard not to see the continued sell-off on Wall Street and the growing fear on Main Street as a product, at least in part, of the realization that our new president's policies are designed to radically re-engineer the market-based U.S. economy, not just mitigate the recession and financial crisis.
[Commentary] Martin Kozlowski

The illusion that Barack Obama will lead from the economic center has quickly come to an end. Instead of combining the best policies of past Democratic presidents -- John Kennedy on taxes, Bill Clinton on welfare reform and a balanced budget, for instance -- President Obama is returning to Jimmy Carter's higher taxes and Mr. Clinton's draconian defense drawdown.

Mr. Obama's $3.6 trillion budget blueprint, by his own admission, redefines the role of government in our economy and society. The budget more than doubles the national debt held by the public, adding more to the debt than all previous presidents -- from George Washington to George W. Bush -- combined. It reduces defense spending to a level not sustained since the dangerous days before World War II, while increasing nondefense spending (relative to GDP) to the highest level in U.S. history. And it would raise taxes to historically high levels (again, relative to GDP). And all of this before addressing the impending explosion in Social Security and Medicare costs.

To be fair, specific parts of the president's budget are admirable and deserve support: increased means-testing in agriculture and medical payments; permanent indexing of the alternative minimum tax and other tax reductions; recognizing the need for further financial rescue and likely losses thereon; and bringing spending into the budget that was previously in supplemental appropriations, such as funding for the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.

The specific problems, however, far outweigh the positives. First are the quite optimistic forecasts, despite the higher taxes and government micromanagement that will harm the economy. The budget projects a much shallower recession and stronger recovery than private forecasters or the nonpartisan Congressional Budget Office are projecting. It implies a vast amount of additional spending and higher taxes, above and beyond even these record levels. For example, it calls for a down payment on universal health care, with the additional "resources" needed "TBD" (to be determined).

Mr. Obama has bravely said he will deal with the projected deficits in Medicare and Social Security. While reform of these programs is vital, the president has shown little interest in reining in the growth of real spending per beneficiary, and he has rejected increasing the retirement age. Instead, he's proposed additional taxes on earnings above the current payroll tax cap of $106,800 -- a bad policy that would raise marginal tax rates still further and barely dent the long-run deficit.

Increasing the top tax rates on earnings to 39.6% and on capital gains and dividends to 20% will reduce incentives for our most productive citizens and small businesses to work, save and invest -- with effective rates higher still because of restrictions on itemized deductions and raising the Social Security cap. As every economics student learns, high marginal rates distort economic decisions, the damage from which rises with the square of the rates (doubling the rates quadruples the harm). The president claims he is only hitting 2% of the population, but many more will at some point be in these brackets.

As for energy policy, the president's cap-and-trade plan for CO2 would ensnare a vast network of covered sources, opening up countless opportunities for political manipulation, bureaucracy, or worse. It would likely exacerbate volatility in energy prices, as permit prices soar in booms and collapse in busts. The European emissions trading system has been a dismal failure. A direct, transparent carbon tax would be far better.

Moreover, the president's energy proposals radically underestimate the time frame for bringing alternatives plausibly to scale. His own Energy Department estimates we will need a lot more oil and gas in the meantime, necessitating $11 trillion in capital investment to avoid permanently higher prices.

The president proposes a large defense drawdown to pay for exploding nondefense outlays -- similar to those of Presidents Carter and Clinton -- which were widely perceived by both Republicans and Democrats as having gone too far, leaving large holes in our military. We paid a high price for those mistakes and should not repeat them.

The president's proposed limitations on the value of itemized deductions for those in the top tax brackets would clobber itemized charitable contributions, half of which are by those at the top. This change effectively increases the cost to the donor by roughly 20% (to just over 72 cents from 60 cents per dollar donated). Estimates of the responsiveness of giving to after-tax prices range from a bit above to a little below proportionate, so reductions in giving will be large and permanent, even after the recession ends and the financial markets rebound.

A similar effect will exacerbate tax flight from states like California and New York, which rely on steeply progressive income taxes collecting a large fraction of revenue from a small fraction of their residents. This attack on decentralization permeates the budget -- e.g., killing the private fee-for-service Medicare option -- and will curtail the experimentation, innovation and competition that provide a road map to greater effectiveness.

The pervasive government subsidies and mandates -- in health, pharmaceuticals, energy and the like -- will do a poor job of picking winners and losers (ask the Japanese or Europeans) and will be difficult to unwind as recipients lobby for continuation and expansion. Expanding the scale and scope of government largess means that more and more of our best entrepreneurs, managers and workers will spend their time and talent chasing handouts subject to bureaucratic diktats, not the marketplace needs and wants of consumers.

Our competitors have lower corporate tax rates and tax only domestic earnings, yet the budget seeks to restrict deferral of taxes on overseas earnings, arguing it drives jobs overseas. But the academic research (most notably by Mihir Desai, C. Fritz Foley and James Hines Jr.) reveals the opposite: American firms' overseas investments strengthen their domestic operations and employee compensation.

New and expanded refundable tax credits would raise the fraction of taxpayers paying no income taxes to almost 50% from 38%. This is potentially the most pernicious feature of the president's budget, because it would cement a permanent voting majority with no stake in controlling the cost of general government.

From the poorly designed stimulus bill and vague new financial rescue plan, to the enormous expansion of government spending, taxes and debt somehow permanently strengthening economic growth, the assumptions underlying the president's economic program seem bereft of rigorous analysis and a careful reading of history.

Unfortunately, our history suggests new government programs, however noble the intent, more often wind up delivering less, more slowly, at far higher cost than projected, with potentially damaging unintended consequences. The most recent case, of course, was the government's meddling in the housing market to bring home ownership to low-income families, which became a prime cause of the current economic and financial disaster.

On the growth effects of a large expansion of government, the European social welfare states present a window on our potential future: standards of living permanently 30% lower than ours. Rounding off perceived rough edges of our economic system may well be called for, but a major, perhaps irreversible, step toward a European-style social welfare state with its concomitant long-run economic stagnation is not.

Mr. Boskin is a professor of economics at Stanford University and a senior fellow at the Hoover Institution. He chaired the Council of Economic Advisers under President George H.W. Bush.


March 06, 2009
Deception at Core of Obama Plans

By Charles Krauthammer

WASHINGTON -- Forget the pork. Forget the waste. Forget the 8,570 earmarks in a bill supported by a president who poses as the scourge of earmarks. Forget the "$2 trillion dollars in savings" that "we have already identified," $1.6 trillion of which President Obama's budget director later admits is the "savings" of not continuing the surge in Iraq until 2019 -- 11 years after George Bush ended it, and eight years after even Bush would have had us out of Iraq completely.

Forget all of this. This is run-of-the-mill budget trickery. True, Obama's tricks come festooned with strings of zeros tacked onto the end. But that's a matter of scale, not principle.

All presidents do that. But few undertake the kind of brazen deception at the heart of Obama's radically transformative economic plan, a rhetorical sleight of hand so smoothly offered that few noticed.

The logic of Obama's address to Congress went like this:

"Our economy did not fall into decline overnight," he averred. Indeed, it all began before the housing crisis. What did we do wrong? We are paying for past sins in three principal areas: energy, health care, and education -- importing too much oil and not finding new sources of energy (as in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge and the Outer Continental Shelf?), not reforming health care, and tolerating too many bad schools.

The "day of reckoning" has now arrived. And because "it is only by understanding how we arrived at this moment that we'll be able to lift ourselves out of this predicament," Obama has come to redeem us with his far-seeing program of universal, heavily nationalized health care; a cap-and-trade tax on energy; and a major federalization of education with universal access to college as the goal.

Amazing. As an explanation of our current economic difficulties, this is total fantasy. As a cure for rapidly growing joblessness, a massive destruction of wealth, a deepening worldwide recession, this is perhaps the greatest non sequitur ever foisted upon the American people.

At the very center of our economic near-depression is a credit bubble, a housing collapse and a systemic failure of the entire banking system. One can come up with a host of causes: Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac pushed by Washington (and greed) into improvident loans, corrupted bond-ratings agencies, insufficient regulation of new and exotic debt instruments, the easy money policy of Alan Greenspan's Fed, irresponsible bankers pushing (and then unloading in packaged loan instruments) highly dubious mortgages, greedy house-flippers, deceitful homebuyers.

The list is long. But the list of causes of the collapse of the financial system does not include the absence of universal health care, let alone of computerized medical records. Nor the absence of an industry-killing cap-and-trade carbon levy. Nor the lack of college graduates. Indeed, one could perversely make the case that, if anything, the proliferation of overeducated, Gucci-wearing, smart-ass MBAs inventing ever more sophisticated and opaque mathematical models and debt instruments helped get us into this credit catastrophe in the first place.

And yet with our financial house on fire, Obama makes clear both in his speech and his budget that the essence of his presidency will be the transformation of health care, education and energy. Four months after winning the election, six weeks after his swearing in, Obama has yet to unveil a plan to deal with the banking crisis.

What's going on? "You never want a serious crisis to go to waste," said Chief of Staff Rahm Emanuel. "This crisis provides the opportunity for us to do things that you could not do before."

Things. Now we know what they are. The markets' recent precipitous decline is a reaction not just to the absence of any plausible bank rescue plan, but also to the suspicion that Obama sees the continuing financial crisis as usefully creating the psychological conditions -- the sense of crisis bordering on fear-itself panic -- for enacting his "Big Bang" agenda to federalize and/or socialize health care, education and energy, the commanding heights of post-industrial society.

Clever politics, but intellectually dishonest to the core. Health, education and energy -- worthy and weighty as they may be -- are not the cause of our financial collapse. And they are not the cure. The fraudulent claim that they are both cause and cure is the rhetorical device by which an ambitious president intends to enact the most radical agenda of social transformation seen in our lifetime.

Let it go

What a weekend!

Since I was in Texas it would be wrong to not support my boy Rocky since he was fighting in Houston. A great fight too! Give Rocky props!! I had to get back to Dallas because I was cutting it close on my flight back to AZ. No after fight party and no standing around talking to everyone, just back on the road and straight to the plane.

Texas for some reason lowers the speed limit on the highways at night and the state troopers go out of their way to enforce it. With that in mind a coffee shop stop is in order. (Long slow rides without coffee are like watching mold grow on stale bread - just mind numbingly boring).
I find a little dive coffee shop and see a familiar face as soon as I walk in.
"You are not going to the after party (she had obviously seen me at the fight)? You always go to the after party. Or are you going out to cheat on some one?"

Yep, just like that. It was an ex.
That one ex I had actually forgotten about. That one ex I had not maintained a good relationship with after we broke up. And understandingly why. You see, she’s a bitch. It is seldom I say that but it is fitting and just as I introduce myself as an ass; she introduces herself as a bitch so I am not exactly calling her out of her name.

There was reason for the comment though. Back in my drinking and driving days (college) my friends and I had gone out to a party. The party go out of hand and I decided it was time to go and rounded up my boys. The night was young and leaving the party by no means meant going home; just not going to jail. In the front yard were some coeds from NYU who were also leaving but still interested in partying. COOL!

A quick stop for some liquor and beer and they are following us to my place. In the car "EEK" is getting all excited and starts demanding condoms KNOWING he is going to get a little action. Laughter at EEK turns into condoms being thrown at him to shut him up. Opened condoms, closed condoms, you name it, they were throwing it. The subsequent party at my little run down studio apartment was a lot of fun but not the orgy EEK was hoping for. The relationship between Columbia and NYU was; well, interesting. There always seems to be more investigating the other school than anything else. And these young ladies, were; well, young ladies.

About a week or so later (and the timing could not have been worse) I am out with my girl and she asks about the party. [Left early, NYU, my place... blah, blah, blah]. No more than twenty minutes after that conversation one of the NYU girls from the party walks into the bookstore and jumps into conversation about how much fun the party was and tells me they all want to come bak out to do it again. My girl was not right with me at the time but was definitely within earshot of the conversation and comes rushing over only to make a scene and run little miss NYU off.

My temper does not help and she is going home. Getting in my little beater of a car I do something I have had never noticed myself doing; I watched her put her purse on the floor board - which in turn made her watch where she was putting her purse.

And what lies there but a condom wrapper! Yeah, this was going to be good! All the explanation in the world was not going to bring her under control. I was cheating on her, the girl from the bookstore, a coworker, my neighbor, a classmate. Any good female companion I had I was instantly sleeping with. On and on all the way to her dorm.

So she goes to her room, I go to get some food and she calls me. My first instinct was to not answer (that pizza was good and be damned if I was going have her mess my meal up). But I answer. She asks where I am and she hears a female voice from the next table and her impression was that I immediately went out with some one else and had no regard for her feelings.

Click.

Ring.

Voicemail.

Ring.

Power off.

Considering my course of study and work schedule, a tumultuous relationship was something I simply did not need. My mind was made up by the time I hit the door to my apartment and called her and told her that I did not have time for her and her drama.

Click.

Bumped into her a few times at school, never answered another one of her calls and never spoke to her again - until Saturday night. Not surprisingly she is unchanged but being that after all of these years she brought it up she was in need of closure.

I got a couple of cups of coffee and sat at the table with her and her friend. Small luke warm greetings and I jump right into it. "Damn girl, just let it go already. I did not cheat on you. Believe what you will but I didn’t. You showed me a side of you that day that I was not willing to deal with at that time. Just let it go."

Her friend rolls her eyes at me. (Big mistake).

"What? Do bitches run in packs these days? You don’t know me, don’t judge me. She told you something that was wrong and you are stupid enough to believe it. Let me guess. You are that tag along hater friend with no life of her own that goes around stirring up shit you have no business in. You get in my business again and I’ll give you all the business you could possibly imagine."

"C’mon. Let’s get out of here. I don’t need this."

I get up and leave but I could not help but wonder how people can harbor so much negativity. The whole jealousy thing I understand. That boils down to one or two things. She is either very insecure or she was actually cheating at the time. Hell, or both and that is fine because it was a different time and place - or at least it should have been. This all happened years ago and was coming up all over again. For me it has been a closed chapter; one that I had honestly and completely forgotten about until this happen chance meeting in Houston.

It is strange that people choose not to move forward in life, to allow themselves to get caught up in the things we are supposed to grow out of. I have no idea how she is doing, if she needs help with anything, if she has a family, how her career is progressing, nothing. Time passes and things change. A meeting like that; even with an ex, should be spent getting caught up. Not spent going back to the day and incident in which you parted ways.

Let the past go. It lives forever more in you in the form of learned experience. All that hate and discontentment for days past only drags you down today. Let it go so you can move forward. The past is gone, there is nothing you can do about it but make regrets right, not harbor them. If she wanted closure it was there this whole time. She could have easily looked in the mirror and said "I should not have been so unreasonable (such a bitch)." It would not have changed anything, we would have broke up regardless. Blaming a person for the wrong thing was little more than the reason that accelerated the inevitable. The fact of the matter was my school was intensifying and my work schedule was increasing, the relationship was doomed. So why fester in days past? You reconcile the past to move forward. You bring all of your past acts and deeds into balance, and move forward. None of us were angels; it is part of growing up, but too many of us spend today in yesterday’s memory and that is just unhealthy.

Today we should all be quite different than we were years ago. It is a sign on growth, development and progress.

On the road I realized that my number one reason for breaking off a relationship was because I was moving forward faster than they were. The main reason I was dumped was because I was moving forward. "Terry, you are just not the same anymore." I was told in one case. I smiled and said "I shouldn’t be, now should I?" At that time I was new to college and was shedding myself of the irresponsible kid in me so I had probably become less fun, less reckless and more sober. Her words were taken as a compliment. In about a year she would drop out of college and have a son. I bumped into her as I was going on to Columbia to begin my masters, she was working as a cashier at the King of Prussia Mall in Philly. This is exactly why you grow out of yourself from time to time. Each time you shed your old skin you begin a new life. It is odd to think that I was dumped because I was maturing and growing into a responsible adult. A person with a bright and promising future allowed it be derailed because she refused to do the same.

There simply comes a time in life that yesterday has to allowed to sink to the deepest most irretrievable depths of sea. In you today lies its knowledge, wisdom and experience, the past is worth little more than that. Just let it go.

-T

Death By Bike

Not too long after the mauling incident the assembly on Black’s bike hade begun. He was diligent in his quest for parts and I was eager to build it seeking yet another chance to set the ball of misfortune in motion.

My favorite part of those old back alley bikes was the break. They fascinated me. That nike swoosh looking thing that ran from the back wheel to the right underside of the frame. You could do so many things with it, it was great. While working on some one’s bike I could take it and spin it counter clockwise and it would tighten the entire rear wheel assembly. That was great fun. We would all go for a ride and the one guy’s whose bike I had just worked on would ride but he had to push hard to keep up. Nothing better than watching one of your friends bitching about his bike and not being able to figure out why it is so hard to pedal! They would stop and look, grow frustrated and keep riding it until they got leg cramps.

Then you could take it and give it a few turns clockwise and the break would work but you practically would have to jump on it to get it to engage and give yourself an extra half block of stopping distance. That’s where the real fun was, watching some one not being able to stop. You have to remember that we were just kids. They would know their brakes were not working right, see something shiny, get distracts and plow straight into the first object dense enough to ruin the rest of their day. Fear after all is funny when you are not one in fear! We would all be out and about and this selected person would inevitably slam into a parked car or hit a curb and tumble forward. There was always something to laugh about when I sabotaged someone’s bike.

Black’s inaugural run had to be spectacular. It could not just be a hitting of a parked car, flipping over a curb, or kissing a fire hydrant. It had to be big, huge, SUPER PRENOMINAL! Why, it had to be life endangering!
There was a little trick I learned with these breaks. They were self maintaining units. If you disconnected its anchor point form the frame, it would continue to work. The bolt connecting to the frame was more of a back up if anything. Three clockwise turns and it was guaranteed to fail unless it was connected to the frame. Turning it and disconnecting it from the frame essentially made it a time bomb. At first it would work and then it would completely fail. Perfect! Perfect! Perfect!

Black was going down and going down hard!

We selected a nice little hill for Black to race down and built a ramp for him to jump. Downhill speed, a ramp to jump and a brake that would fail. You know, a little boys life hardly gets any better than that! Pork chops and applesauce? Maybe. But, this was a combination made in heaven for me and my boys!

Perhaps I forgot to mention the selected street ran down to a major thoroughfare. If you failed to stop it is assured that you will succeed in getting hit - and that was the goal; to have Black blazing his inaugural run straight into that traffic. And the plan was perfect in every detail.
Since the mauling incident Black never really trusted me. He would test everything and double check what he checked. Anticipating that I figured Black would ride and slam on the breaks twice to ensure his bike would stop and thus only spun the break forward once; his two test runs would do the rest. Body bag bound Black did just that and backed the brake off just enough to fail on its next application. This was first class execution of engineering disasters! (And you wonder why toy manufacturers have so many recalls).

The one thing you can not help but love about Black was no matter what, he would go all in and give it 100%. I hardly thought that piece of crap bike could roll as fast as he had that thing going heading for that ramp; and subsequently the intersection. Head down, legs pumping, eyes fixed on the ramp; Black again was all in, 100% committed to allowing us to bring a early end to his miserable little life.

Up the ramp and in the air, standing so he could slam down on the brake as soon as he touched down.

[This is where I learned something about physics at such a young age. It is not you pushing down on the brake, it is the position of your body as the bike hits the ground. Your weight is distributed over the back half of the bike. When you land your weight forces the brake to engage; not your leg. Gravity; not will.]

And it was gravity that woke Black up to the fact that this was another attempt on his life. As soon as he hit, his rear leg went straight down with no break to stop it. The result was just as planned; a screaming Black racing towards the intersection dragging his feet out of desperation to stop. Our reaction? Laughter and anticipation of screeching car tires followed by a bone breaking thud.

Black realized that odds in making it through the intersection were about the same in him getting past his new friends injury free and immediately started looking for something to crash into. His first thought was a parked car and he started heading for it until he realized he was voluntarily subjecting himself to harm. He straightened himself and continued speeding down the street. At the last minute he attempts to turn into an alley. There was just no way in hell he was going to be able to make such a sharp turn at such a high rate of speed. But in the end, it is better to go down trying - especially when the alternative is a heavy trafficked four lane inner city street.

He swerved into the alley with barely enough angle to not hit the awaiting brick wall head on, but man did he ever hit it! Hit face took the most of the force, mostly his right eye actually. Nothing funnier for a group of kids watching a failed attempt at death by bike thwarted and settling for a runner up prize of a 30 mph head on slam into a brick wall! Except of course watching the would be body bag filler dragging his bike behind him with a knot on his head the size of a grapefruit!!!

Of course to most this sounds mean and most with sympathize with poor little Keith Black. But Black proved most resilient during those summer months. This was twice now that we had made an attempt on his life, and twice that he walked away from them. He was a formidable foe this Keith Black. His refuse to die spirit would soon win him favor within the group. He just needed some one to hurry up and move in because the attempts on his life would not stop until we had some one else to replace him.

By the time poor Black made it up to us his eye was swollen shut and his nose bled all over his shirt. Poor kid. The laughter went on and on as we denied any wrong doing or tampering with his bike. Slowly new injuries appeared. Blood here, blood there, scrapes on this, scrapes on that; they just kept coming and coming and coming.

And then it hit him. "You guys are trying to kill me!" His one good eye wide open with dismay. "You guys are trying to kill me!"

None of us were really trying to kill him. We wanted to see him get hurt, but were not out to truly end his life though as I look back we very well could have on several occasions. You see, Black was our source of lashing out at an unfair world. He was our beating post. We did to Black what we all wanted to do to our world - it is just that it was more fun doing it to Black.

This time I did not get in trouble. I knew going into it that no one could prove I rigged his break to fail. Even my friends watching it knew I did "something" but no one had any idea what and I convinced them that it was all just an odd turn of events. "He tested the brakes twice and they worked just fine." Hard to argue logic such as that when you have no idea what went wrong.

My friends were all years older than me and I was learning how to manipulate them by being smarter than them. I found a great sense of power and control in that. Power and control I liked because as a disadvantaged child those two elements were always missing.

As unfortunate as these events were for Keith Black, they were live changing for me. Through him I learned that I could change fate and destiny through the sheer will of being smart. Knowledge at that point became an insatiable quest. The more I knew, the more people turned to me, the power and control I had. Before long I was running the neighborhood - for better or for worse.

-T

A Mauling, A Lie And Two Beatings

I think back to my childhood and wonder how I managed to survive, let alone actually to go on and make something of myself. It is not that I grew up in a poor inner city neighborhood, it’s that we either did stupid things, or went about reasonable things very stupidly. In fact, our collective intellect only excelled when making a mundane task life threatening.

Our discovery of tools only served to further our intent of needless and stupid destruction. We all had bikes; none of us could afford to buy one and none of us wanted to explain how we "got" a bike to our parents. (If they found we had done something wrong they could Officer Butler and he would haul our asses off to jail - a story for another day though). Instead we would scour the back alleys of the city looking for discarded bicycle parts and build our own. Not one was sturdy, not one was safe and not one of was without one of these jalopies.

The summer months were filled manufacturing and maintaining these unsafe mechanical nightmares. Some were so bad that you had to keep a pair of vice grips in your pocket to "tweak" the damn thing in order to ride it two blocks!

Enter Keith Black a new kid to the neighborhood, a.k.a.; "Black" - and no not because were embracing military terminology! He was the darkest kid any of us had seen to date and mistakenly introduced himself using his full name. Not surprisingly the only thing we heard was Black and his introduction to our little rung of hoodlums was met with all out laughter - right in front of his over protective mother; who hated us all from that very moment forward!

Bikeless Black wanted a bike so as a right of passage we sent him on a quest for parts. We all knew of a frame behind Leroy’s house but were afraid to get it because in his backyard lived Sly, half Doberman, half Shepard dog and all mean. Sly would attack anyone at any time except for Leroy. It was not a rarity to here his mom or sister screaming "Leroy come get this damn dog!" Going down that alley was more of a suicide mission than anything else. The frame stayed right was it was at; none of us were brave or stupid enough to get it.

Poor Black did not know about Leroy and he damn sure did not know about Sly. What a better fitting rite of passage than to have the new kid practically mauled to death.

I tell Black where the frame is and that he has to get the frame first so we know what other parts to find and once we get everything we need we will build his bike in his yard. A quick stroll to the alley and we all stop. The frame is sitting at the far end no more than a half block away; a life risking half block. Black felt something was up when we all stopped (I think some one may have even opted to not even go the entry of the alley) but with a little encouragement Black was off to meet his fate. Every few steps he would look back but that was one courageous kid that Black was!

We figured Sly would start raising hell before Black got within two houses of him. Nothing. Black made it all the way to the frame as we were now concerned that Sly was not in his yard at all - which meant everyone was in danger! We were all looking around for Sly when Black decided to yell "I got it" at the top of his lungs!

And sure enough Sly was not in his yard at all. Sly was in the alley. In fact Sly had figured out the art of ambush and was laying in wait behind a pile of trash right across from that damn bike frame! A reddish tan blur making a stealthy bee line for Black when we all screamed bloody murder!

Safety first!

We all take off and hit Kim and Kelley’s front porch when we hear Black’s screams and Sly’s growls. Poor kid wasn’t going to survive his first day. The next thing you know a bloody Black is running out of the alley with Sly on his heels (and almost looking happy about having a new kid gnaw on for a change). Then it happened. Sly ran up beside Black, sized him up and leapt on him as he was running. (This isn’t good). Black though, just kept on running, kept on screaming and kept on getting bit. He must have made it five or six houses before Sly felled him. (Impressive this new kid is, just impressive)!

Leroy comes running down the street and probably saved Black’s life as he beat Sly off of him. Then gave him and admonishment for being behind his house! Leroy and Sly were of the same mold - they even looked alike.

Now we had yet another problem. We just tried to kill the new kid and never once thought of the consequences; we just wanted to see him get bit a few times and now he is just a bloody mess in the middle of the street with an over protective mother to deal with. Kids just don’t think ahead.

We circle the fallen Black and come up with a lie. Some random dog (we had to protect Sly, after all he was both a neighborhood institution and a form of entertainment) attacked us and Black was the one who got caught. It was then that picked him up to his feet and started walking him home explaining what to tell his mother.

Yeah, that worked! As soon as he saw his mother it all came out! That we sent him up there knowing he would be attacked, that we let the dog out before he got there (that was new to us, usually one had that half second response time as Sly was coming over the fence) and that we ran away leaving him to die at the hands of this dog (that part was pretty much true).

All the other mothers could beat us; she did not yet know this so the worst she could do was yell a little bit and try to threaten us by calling our parents - who she does not know (or so we thought). Turns out his mom moved there because she was Trey’s mom’s sister. Instead of going crazy like we thought she would, she calls her sister who is just three doors away. We had no idea until the front porch door swung open and we could see her staring us and talking on the phone! SHIT!

"Terry! Is that you?!"

SHIT! SHIT!

"Get over here right now!"

SHIT SHIT SHIT!

There was seven of us and I am the one singled out. And my day was going so well. Orchestrated a mauling, concocted a lie to save everyone asses; what more could one kid do? Those were huge cool points for the smaller, younger kid. I mean come on! This is a huge feat, this story was to be told for summers to come and I did it! Now you mean to tell me that I have to get a beating from the meanest mother on the block?! It just ain’t right!

And I took my beating too! At one point I thought she was trying to tear the screen door off to hit me with that too. What’s worse is that no one beating stands above the subsequent beating you get when you get home because someone else’s mom had to beat you. Now what sense does that make? Hell, your parent got a damn break!

After my whoopin she got right on the phone and I knew who she was calling. I needed some recovery time and tried to round the guys up so I could go in hiding for an hour or two. No such luck. Here comes my aunt and she is looking pissed!

The guys knew it best to part ways for the day and head in different directions because I am all about spreading the wealth of my unfortunate happenings. Before I could point a "he did it" finger, they were gone.

SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT!

A mauling a lie and two ass whoopins later and it was all over. It was a good day, a memorable day, an historic day. I championed the rite of passage, saved our most hated dog and took a few licks for mankind.

Hard to believe that summer only got better.

-T

Don't Date your Ex's Sister

I hate blind dates. I hate them to such extent that I now have to be tricked into going on them. And trick me into going on a blind date is exactly what Ken did yesterday!

Blind dates just never go well for me. Either my friends (and sometimes family) are poor judges of character or they put too much trust in taking their friends word on how "cool" this forth party is.

All fault aside, last night’s adventure into a dark jazz club in downtown Dallas turned out to be worth commenting on.

Ken and I arrive, order a drink and bit of food and get to talking about the days events and meetings when Alicia arrives. She introduces herself and asks to take a seat which would lead one to believe she is a stranger. But her eye contact with Ken is that of two familiar people. Smelling a rat I decide to force them to act this out to the bitter end and draw completely quiet. You see, two people who know each other have a very hard time acting like they do not; especially if they are (shall we say) intimately familiar. Deciding to accelerate things I offer to buy a round of drinks and ask Ken directly what Alicia would like; the dumbass almost answered! LOL! I hold my chuckle and she orders something he is obviously not accustomed to her ordering judging his reaction and we drink as I continue to let them talk about the weather, work and the stupid, shallow things people talk about when there is something they are avoiding.

Then the door opens and I immediately know it is my blindy, soon to be horror story of a date. Problem was she appeared to be everything I would date from a visual perspective. I could see the conversation taking place between Ken and Alicia. "She’s this and that and she’s single." "Really? She will be perfect for Terry! Bring her out on Wed."

Good times and noodle salad alright! As she approached she looked startlingly familiar. So familiar I was thrown off of the game I was playing with Ken and stood to meet her before she even hit the table. My actions in turn threw Ken’s "friend" off because she was supposed to act as if it was a happen chance meeting. The second and a half of confusion would have been funny if I were not trying so hard to place her.

Alicia finally goes to make introductions but I am already at work offering a hand and a skeptical stare. "I know you. Where do I know you from?" is out of my mouth before I can be courteous enough to allow the mutual friend to do her job.

We all sit and talk and drink. This one is nice though, she looked like some one I would have dated in the past but did not act like some one I would have dated and I found myself taking a very unnatural liking to her. Very smart and very laid back. You could see that she was self assured, self confident and had a great deal of focus. Still trying to figure out who she is I drop demographic questions trying to narrow it down when I find out she is a lawyer.

I love lawyers, it’s like shooting fish in a barrel. Their sole purpose in life is manipulation and it is a choice meeting place for logic against logic, protagonist, antagonist discussion (and of course I am out the starting blocks like Usain Bolt baiting her straight in).
She’s a lawyer, all lawyers have to argue; it’s what they do. It’s in their blood. Their competitive nature is matched by their wit, intelligence and innate desire to win. She was no different and she opened up on the spot. Some how we get to talking about global warming when she stops cold in mid sentence, leans back and gives me a hard stare. (SEE! I TOLD YOU I KNEW HER)! I give her my little smile of validation because I could see she was now actively trying to place me - but couldn’t. (DAMN)!

"What were you just thinking?" At this point I am solely committed to identifying her. "You sound like some one I have read that’s all. Some one I read and actually agree with even though he pisses me off." (Rut rho Shaggy). This is not what I expected and was actually hoping her next words would not be an inquiry to my last name when; "What’s your last name?"

(Shit, shit, shit)! "I think you know my last name, it’s Mykes. Sounds to me that I am the guy you love to hate." Problem was, she knew me but I am the one that is supposed to know her when her cell phone rings.

"Hey Ni Ni (pronounced knee knee)!" I heard not a word after that. I am out for drinks on a blind date with my ex’s half sister!!! She was finishing law school when Nicole and I broke up. I had never met her but she and Nicole are very close and she was the only one Nicole would allow to call her Ni Ni. The familiar look, the accent, the attitude - it all made sense now.

When she got off the phone I started spitting out her school dates, her struggles in school her, her accolades from school, where she was from, where she went for spring break; everything I could think of. She was in shock and then inquisitively lowered her brow asking "how?" In return I raise my brow saying "how do you think?" Intense bewilderment followed by HOLY MOTHER OF GOD! "You are Ter?!?! Nicole’s Ter?"

Ken and Alicia have WTF looks on their faces trying to figure out if this is good or bad. Well, it’s bad; very bad.

Statistical improbability aside, blind dates end badly for me. There always seems to be something amiss. Something no one knew until "she" says something in front of everyone; "I’m three months pregnant" in one case. "My probation officer is sitting at the bar" in another case. One was married, one had the nerve to show up with a huge festering chancre sore on her mouth (I guess that one actually started badly), and yet another literally was a schizophrenic that forgot to take her meds and ended up destroying half the bar and being carted off handcuffed and shackled in an ambulance.

Either way you twist or turn it, whether I am in the market to date at this time or not; it is probably not a good idea to date your ex’s sister. It’s a potential bag of worms that I would much rather not deal with. Things are "pre"complicated, histories too familiar, biases; and there are the ‘in current relationship’ questions about the ex.

Now ladies, you know you ask these questions. Sometimes overt in nature and other times they are subtle feelers as to how things are going to pan out and what went wrong - but you ask! Guys don’t, this is one area that we are comfortable making assumptions and leaving good enough alone. Maybe we don’t want to know how hard you were previously bounced of the headboard or if we hold the record setting orgasms in one night - until you tell us we broke it; then we pound our chests like primates and strut like peacocks for the next two weeks. The bottom line here is that women ask and when they ask in overt fashion it is stuff like "Am I the best you have ever had?" I understand that it is being asked because if they are not they want to be and they want to know how better to please - that is fine but I know the question is coming and in this case it could present a problem.

Imagine if you would, that question being asked at that crucial post-coital moment. "Terry, am I the best you have ever been with?"

"Well, I would really like it if you fondled me afterward like your sister did."

You simply do not date your ex’s sister.

-T