For the past two years now, one musician has made it his mission to play the same 24 notes from his balcony every day, rain or shine.
As his way of respectfuly paying tribute to our nation and its troops, this musician humbly feels it’s his sacred duty to play this song for his neighborhood. At the same time, each and on every single day, whenever he begins playing, it feels as though time seems to stop. He Plays "Taps" At The Same Time Everyday. Watch What His Neighbors Do When He Starts Playing...And that's the real news of the day. Take it into your weekend.
HT: True North
June 1939. Daughters of a Tygart Valley, West Virginia, homesteader as seen at Love Truth & Beauty
August 1910: It wasn’t the last summer but it was one of the last summers when America was at peace with the world and at peace with itself. The Civil War was a 45 year old memory. The first of the World Wars that would scar the century to come was not even the shadow of a premonition. Lenin was an exile in Europe with no power and Mao was a student in Hunan. Hitler was living in a homeless shelter in Vienna selling paintings to tourists. Stalin was either being sent to or escaping from Siberia. Churchill was the Home Secretary in England and planning the first bit of social engineering, the National Insurance Act. Taft was President and his plan was "try to accomplish just as much [as Teddy Roosevelt] without any noise."
Both the automobile and and the electric light were ubiquitous. Air conditioning was still a wild fantasy, but the swamp cooler had begun to come online in 1904 so it wasn't completely out of the question for the very rich.
Halley’s Comet had just passed by taking Mark Twain with it. Somewhere in Macedonia Mother Teresa had just been born. If men looked up they could have seen, had they been in the right place at the right time, other men in flight. If any had been in Sheepshead Bay out side of New York City on the 20th they would have heard the first gunshots ever fired from an airplane. Individual lives might have their small tragedies but there was no perceptible or imaginable catastrophe in the cards dealt Americans that summer. It was August and everywhere Americans paused to refresh themselves.
Presented for your contemplation: One wave breaking over a group of Americans who have waded into the Atlantic on the Jersey shore sometime around noon on a hot day in August in 1910.
The wave would have swelled up and started out far over the eastern horizon near the edge of the Gulf Stream. It would have rolled with strict impunity in the midst of thousands of others like it, all bound towards the shore. The photographer would have gotten up early and hauled his cumbersome equipment towards the shore. The bathers would have arrived in the late morning if they were not already staying near the shore.
Once there they changed into swimming apparel known more for modesty than comfort. From the light it was around noon and would have been hot. Seeking to be cooler they waded in. Some stayed near the shore. Others waded further out the steadily deepening water.
On some kind of elevated platform above the sand, the photographer put the 8x10 glass plate into the camera and ducked under the black hood for final adjustments. Then he stood up and called out and called out and called out and finally got the attention of some. Most ignored him.
The wave rolled in from somewhere over the horizon, rising up and down, maybe cresting here and there, until it swelled one last time and, just as the photographer happened to release the shutter, jumped up in that one moment and splashed and spattered the unwary people posed and unposed in the cool salt water just off the beach on the Jersey shore.
That was the moment, less than a second, in the midst of that summer now more than a century gone. All, each and every one, of those nearly 300 souls are now gone as well, even the children held on the shoulders or standing in the shallows, all gone -- all perhaps, maybe, save one now almost silent centenarian.
Well, what of it? That’s the way of the world and the way of the waves of the world and our lives. What we have is this moment snatched out of time on the Jersey shore one afternoon in August before the last century went smash. Who is there? What were they like? It can’t be known, but it can be seen and what can be seen, at least in this one moment, is that these people had what anyone would recognize as that thing we call happiness. Let’s see what we can see of it.
We can see the chaos ruining the photographer’s carefully composed moment with a splash soaking those nearest and plastering down the hair of a man who was probably balder than he would like to be
We can see the young girl not entirely pleased with being drenched from the security of her father’s shoulder.
We can see those who are not particularly interested in being recorded on film for another century they would never know and gaze at something, at what?, that is just beyond the frame.
We can see one person who is concerned enough about the sun to carry a parasol with her out beyond the group until she is shoulder deep in the Atlantic and looking off at the horizon or contemplating the spatter of sunlight off the rollers.
Closer in towards shore we can see two sweethearts looking at each other and liking what they see in each others eyes.
Closer still we can see at least one who has not disappointed the photographer and is determined to present a smiling face to the ages.
We can see those who, in their frumpy and modest bathing suits, hold hands as the water deepens.
We can see those who smile and clasp each other ignoring the rout and the riot of water and waves around them.
In the middle of the splash we can see the young man, full of life and ready for anything, held up high by his father, shouting out and waving down the years as if to say hello from a great summer day in 1910.
Out beyond the bathers two men in a boat row past. Heading south. Perhaps for exercise. Perhaps as guards that would scoop up and return to life any bathers who had been swept too far from shore.
And then, finally, at the extreme right side of the frame we see two hands; the hands of a man moving towards the splash and the picture, but now caught forever just outside the frame; just a second too late to find himself forever frozen in this moment that I can see now, a hundred and one Augusts later. One step quicker and he would have been there. But at least his hands made it.
Maybe that’s enough. It’s August again in America. Maybe not the happiest August in our history, but it's been a hard century. We owe ourselves at least one more day at the beach.Continued...
"I don't see the legs. Do you see the legs?"
"There you go."
"Oh another boy!"
“We’d have to do a little bit of training with the providers or something to make sure that they don’t crush” fetal organs during 2nd trimester abortions, says Ginde, brainstorming ways to ensure the abortion doctors at PPRM provide usable fetal organs.
When the buyers ask Ginde if “compensation could be specific to the specimen?” Ginde agrees, “Okay.” Later on in the abortion clinic’s pathological laboratory, standing over an aborted fetus, Ginde responds to the buyer’s suggestion of paying per body part harvested, rather than a standard flat fee for the entire case: “I think a per-item thing works a little better, just because we can see how much we can get out of it.”
The sale or purchase of human fetal tissue is a federal felony punishable by up to 10 years in prison or a fine of up to $500,000 (42 U.S.C. 289g-2). Federal law also requires that no alteration in the timing or method of abortion be done for the purposes of fetal tissue collection (42 U.S.C. 289g-1).
Planned Parenthood VP Says Fetuses May Come Out Intact, Agrees Payments Specific to the Specimen
“I am not here as a serf or vassal. I am not begging my lords for mercy. I’m a born free American woman, wife, mother and citizen. And I’m telling my government that you’ve forgotten your place. It’s not your responsibility to look out for my well-being, and to monitor my speech. It’s not your right to assert an agenda. Your post, the post that you occupy, exists to preserve American liberty. You’ve sworn to perform that duty. And you have faltered.” -- Becky Gerritson
Howso' great their clamour, whatsoe'er their claim,
Suffer not the old King under any name!
Here is naught unproven—here is naught to learn.
It is written what shall fall if the King return.
He shall mark our goings, question whence we came,
Set his guards about us, as in Freedom's name.
He shall take a tribute, toll of all our ware;
He shall change our gold for arms—arms we may not bear.
He shall break his judges if they cross his word;
He shall rule above the Law calling on the Lord.
He shall peep and mutter; and the night shall bring
Watchers 'neath our window, lest we mock the King—
Hate and all division; hosts of hurrying spies;
Money poured in secret, carrion breeding flies.
Strangers of his counsel, hirelings of his pay,
These shall deal our Justice: sell—deny—delay.
Warning. Graphic and grisly scenes.
"The first episode in a new documentary web series features a woman who once worked in Planned Parenthood clinics describing the profit motive involved in Planned Parenthood’s sale of aborted fetal body parts, and includes new admissions from top-level Planned Parenthood leadership about the illicit pricing structure.
Episode 1 also shows undercover video featuring the Vice President and Medical Director of Planned Parenthood of the Rocky Mountains (PPRM) in Denver, CO, Dr. Savita Ginde. PPRM is one of the largest and wealthiest Planned Parenthood affiliates and operates clinics in Colorado, New Mexico, Wyoming, and Nevada. Standing in the Planned Parenthood abortion clinic pathology laboratory, where fetuses are brought after abortions, Ginde concludes that payment per organ removed from a fetus will be the most beneficial to Planned Parenthood: “I think a per-item thing works a little better, just because we can see how much we can get out of it.”
Planned Parenthood branches in several states are demanding local media refrain from airing damning footage obtained through recent undercover stings, in a frantic attempt to suppress negative criticism generated over their reported sale of aborted fetal tissue.Continued...
On Monday evening, Planned Parenthood of Minnesota, North Dakota and South Dakota issued statements to “Health and Political Reporters and Producers” recommending the footage, which they say was garnered “under false pretenses,” “not be aired.”
“[The Center for Medical Progress] gained access to Planned Parenthood facilities under false pretenses and filmed without securing approval from the Planned Parenthood staff being filmed or the patients whose privacy is compromised by this secret videotaping,” a letter sent by Communications Director Jennifer Aulwes to media said.
“The material should not be aired.”
Lack of privilege getting you down?
The privilege you need is just a tap away.
Connect with a white guy.
Get privileged, life-saving advice.
Privilege delivered, and you can move on.
[HT: Happy Acres]Continued...
"The original Kurtz had been educated partly in England, and—as he was good enough to say himself—his sympathies were in the right place. His mother was half–English, his father was half–French. All Europe contributed to the making of Kurtz; and by and by I learned that, most appropriately, the International Society for the Suppression of Savage Customs had entrusted him with the making of a report, for its future guidance.
"And he had written it, too. I’ve seen it. I’ve read it.
"It was eloquent, vibrating with eloquence, but too high–strung, I think. Seventeen pages of close writing he had found time for! But this must have been before his—let us say—nerves, went wrong, and caused him to preside at certain midnight dances ending with unspeakable rites, which—as far as I reluctantly gathered from what I heard at various times—were offered up to him—do you understand?—to Mr. Kurtz himself. But it was a beautiful piece of writing.
"The opening paragraph, however, in the light of later information, strikes me now as ominous. He began with the argument that we whites, from the point of development we had arrived at, ‘must necessarily appear to them [savages] in the nature of supernatural beings—we approach them with the might of a deity,’ and so on, and so on. ‘By the simple exercise of our will we can exert a power for good practically unbounded,’ etc., etc.
"From that point he soared and took me with him. The peroration was magnificent, though difficult to remember, you know. It gave me the notion of an exotic Immensity ruled by an august Benevolence. It made me tingle with enthusiasm. This was the unbounded power of eloquence—of words—of burning noble words. There were no practical hints to interrupt the magic current of phrases, unless a kind of note at the foot of the last page, scrawled evidently much later, in an unsteady hand, may be regarded as the exposition of a method. It was very simple, and at the end of that moving appeal to every altruistic sentiment it blazed at you, luminous and terrifying, like a flash of lightning in a serene sky: ‘Exterminate all the brutes!’
“We have lost the first of the ebb,” said the Director suddenly. I raised my head. The offing was barred by a black bank of clouds, and the tranquil waterway leading to the uttermost ends of the earth flowed sombre under an overcast sky—seemed to lead into the heart of an immense darkness. - - Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness
Hannah Brown and fellow activists demonstrate against the planned clear cutting of trees outlined in the East Bay Deforestation Plan on the University of California, Berkeley campus.
Bring me my Bow of burning gold:
Bring me my arrows of desire:
Bring me my Spear: O clouds unfold!
Bring me my Chainsaw of fire!
“I want President Obama to know one thing,” West said.
“You may say that you have done something that no one else has done. You know why no one else has done it? Because it’s a damn stupid thing you just did. If people are upset because of what I’m saying, I really don’t care. Because I had a father that stood at World War II…I gave 22 years of my life to make sure that that great beacon of liberty, freedom and democracy continues to stand. And I have a nephew, I have friends that are still serving on the front lines — and my commitment is to the oath that I took on 31, July, 1982, to support and defend the Constitution of the United States of America against all enemies, foreign and domestic.”
Around and after 32:10
Let me say, there are such people who enjoy calling themselves transhumanists and are looking forward essentially to abolishing the human race by liberally implanting chips in addition to messing with the genetics of unborn infants.
So you can, you know, buy 10 extra IQ points for your first kid, and technologies always improving so with the same amount to money you can get 15 for your next kid, and your first kid will be obsolete and you can, you know, send him to a big parking lot in the desert for obsolete children. And meanwhile you’re building human beings whose IQ is, you can build them. A person with an IQ of 500, why not build one with an IQ of 10,000?....
Bill Kristol / David Gelernter Transcript
But there’s the darker side of that which says let’s improve. Human beings are not such a great design, why should we live to 100 when we can live to 1,000? Why should we have an IQ of 100 when we can have an IQ of 1,000. We’re moving there, and that’s the end of mankind. You know, what are we to a group of people whose IQ is 10,000? Houseplants. This is a real issue.
In his memoir Chronicles: Volume One, Dylan described the kinship he felt with the route that supplied the title of his sixth album:
"Highway 61, the main thoroughfare of the country blues, begins about where I began. I always felt like I'd started on it, always had been on it and could go anywhere, even down in to the deep Delta country. It was the same road, full of the same contradictions, the same one-horse towns, the same spiritual ancestors ... It was my place in the universe, always felt like it was in my blood."
Along the way, the route passed near the birthplaces and homes of influential musicians such as Muddy Waters, Son House, Elvis Presley, and Charley Patton. The "empress of the blues", Bessie Smith, died after sustaining serious injuries in an automobile accident on Highway 61. Critic Mark Polizzotti points out that blues legend Robert Johnson is alleged to have sold his soul to the devil at the highway's crossroads with Route 49. -- LaWik
Oh God said to Abraham, “Kill me a son”
Abe says, “Man, you must be puttin’ me on”
God say, “No.” Abe say, “What?”
God say, “You can do what you want Abe, but
The next time you see me comin’ you better run”
Well Abe says, “Where do you want this killin’ done?”
God says, “Out on Highway 61”
Well Georgia Sam he had a bloody nose
Welfare Department they wouldn’t give him no clothes
He asked poor Howard where can I go
Howard said there’s only one place I know
Sam said tell me quick man I got to run
Ol’ Howard just pointed with his gun
And said that way down on Highway 61
Well Mack the Finger said to Louie the King
I got forty red, white and blue shoestrings
And a thousand telephones that don’t ring
Do you know where I can get rid of these things
And Louie the King said let me think for a minute son
And he said yes I think it can be easily done
Just take everything down to Highway 61
Now the fifth daughter on the twelfth night
Told the first father that things weren’t right
My complexion she said is much too white
He said come here and step into the light, he says hmm you’re right
Let me tell the second mother this has been done
But the second mother was with the seventh son
And they were both out on Highway 61
Now the rovin’ gambler he was very bored
He was tryin’ to create a next world war
He found a promoter who nearly fell off the floor
He said I never engaged in this kind of thing before
But yes I think it can be very easily done
We’ll just put some bleachers out in the sun
And have it on Highway 61.....
In which we observe that there seems to be a large vile insect pretending to be President of PPFA Medical Directors’ Council Mary Gatter. Very ugly death's head in a human skin.
Actors posing as buyers ask Gatter, “What would you expect for intact [fetal] tissue?”Continued...
“Well, why don’t you start by telling me what you’re used to paying!” Gatter replies.
Gatter continues: “You know, in negotiations whoever throws out the figure first is at a loss, right?” She explains, “I just don’t want to lowball,” before suggesting, “$75 a specimen.”
Gatter twice recites Planned Parenthood messaging on fetal tissue collection, “We’re not in it for the money,” and “The money is not the important thing,” but she immediately qualifies each statement with, respectively, “But what were you thinking of?” and, “But it has to be big enough that it’s worthwhile for me.”
Gatter also admits that in prior fetal tissue deals, Planned Parenthood received payment in spite of incurring no cost: “It was logistically very easy for us, we didn’t have to do anything. So there was compensation for this.” She accepts a higher price of $100 per specimen understanding that it will be only for high-quality fetal organs: “Now, this is for tissue that you actually take, not just tissue that someone volunteers and you can’t find anything, right?”
By the lunch’s end, Gatter suggests $100 per specimen is not enough and concludes, “Let me just figure out what others are getting, and if this is in the ballpark, then it’s fine, if it’s still low, then we can bump it up. I want a Lamborghini.”
Apollo 11 was the spaceflight that landed the first humans on the Moon, Americans Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin, on July 20, 1969, at 20:18 UTC.
Armstrong became the first to step onto the lunar surface six hours later on July 21 at 02:56 UTC. Armstrong spent about two and a half hours outside the spacecraft, Aldrin slightly less, and together they collected 47.5 pounds (21.5 kg) of lunar material for return to Earth.
Matthew had some strong ideas about prayer. It is in his book that we find the Lord's Prayer, also known as "The Swiss Army Knife of Prayers." This particular prayer, according to Matthew (who should know about such things), is the Alpha and the Omega of prayers. He stresses this when he writes in Matthew 6:9-6:13, "After this manner therefore pray ye: Our Father which art in heaven....
Of late, and for obvious reasons, I've become more likely to pray than to curse. Indeed my new program is to swap a prayer for a curse whenever I find I've slipped into the cursing mode.
In a world that is accursed putting more curses into it is never a good idea. We are full up at present. No shortage of curses that I can see. Still, slipping into the cursing mode is easy to do in today's world. We're encouraged to do it by the very nature of the secular society.
Add to that my thirty year stint in New York City where the standard reaction to almost any event is either a curse that involves the middle initial of the Savior (Just what does that "H." stand for anyway?), or the invocation of unnamed males who have an affinity for crude sex only with females of the motherly persuasion, and you've got, when it comes to my ability and propensity to curse, one crude mother....
It's a bad habit and one that I am trying to break. One way is, whenever I catch myself in an angry cursing moment, to recite a prayer instead. And the goto prayer in these multiple moments is always the Lord's. It's brief. It's beautiful. I can say it at high speed and by rote.
Our Father which art in heaven,
Hallowed be thy name.
Thy kingdom come,
Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven.
Give us this day...
The Lord's Prayer also has a hidden benefit. It has, at is core, one simple but profound request:
"Give. Us. This. Day."
That's it. That's the real core of all prayers. That is the one request of the Lord without which nothing else matters. That is what all our past, lost days flow towards and which all our future hoped-for days flow from. Without the gift of "This Day" the ones that have passed have no meaning and the ones that are to come have no potentiality. Both are but abstractions or, as the poet has it:
What might have been is an abstraction
Remaining a perpetual possibility
Only in a world of speculation.
What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.
Which is a fancy way of saying that without the gift of this day being given all else is lost. Secular thinkers speak of this as being "in the now" as if "being here now" was all that it took to be really alive.
I've lived in that popcult fauxworld for years before escaping and, looking back, I seem to remember it not as luminous headlands overlooking the sea, but as shadowlands along a darker border. It was neither a gift nor a curse, a burden or a blessing. It simply was and, as a result, was rather unremarkable.
That secular world originated out of nothing, out of the limited imagination of the noosphere and, with no reach beyond itself, existed closer to the Alpha than to the Omega. It had, as secular things often do, a tangle of bright, shiny deceivers clustered around it like gnats outside a privy, but when you arrived at the center it had nothing to say about tomorrow, and very little to promise about this day other than that it would be roughly similar to yesterday. There was little inscape and no escape. Its "Now" was always the same day, neither given nor taken but simply existing. It was the kind of day in which the existence of the Human and the Planaria were essentially equal. I, for one, would rather ask for my day than simply arrive in it.
Which is why, when I pray the Lord's Prayer, I always pause -- at the very least -- when I come to the phrase, "Give us this day." And in that pause I remember another phrase derived from scripture, "Tomorrow is not promised."
I once knew that phrase, "Tomorrow is not promised," in a rather dry, academic, vaguely poetic manner. Now, having had my all my tomorrows removed and then miraculously restored, I understand the phrase down to the marrow of my bones. Coming into this day I always ask "Give us this day." Departing the day I find I return to the early litanies of childhood, "I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake...."
But then, so far, I do wake and I continue in my project to replace curses with prayers. I'm not very good at it yet. Still fairly shaky. Then again, as another poet tells me,
This shaking keeps me steady. I should know.
What falls away is always. And is near.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I learn by going where I have to go.
The Lord give me (and give you) This Day.Continued...
In my extreme age --
In my age extreme --
Skin planed to glassine,
Bone buffed to crystal,
Light locked in the marrow,
And memory melded to images only....
In my extreme age --
In my age extreme --
Thoughts thinned to one
And dreams dimmed to soul;
To that one shred of thread
Which stitches the shroud
Of my extreme age --
In my age extreme.
In that age extreme,
That extreme edge of age,
There shall still
In such stillness
Sing in my deaf ears
One echo of now;
Your echo of now.
And your echo shall glimmer
On that river that streams
Through time’s silted canyons
Of my extreme age --
In my age extreme.
How Quickly We Forget: When you give the bomb to Iran this is what you're messing with....
The expanding fireball and shockwave of the Trinity explosion, seen .025 seconds after detonation on July 16, 1945.
"Rope tricks" are seen in this image of a nuclear explosion taken less than one millisecond after detonation. During operation Tumbler-Snapper in 1952, this nuclear test device was suspended 300 feet above the Nevada desert floor, and anchored by mooring cables. As the ball of plasma expanded, the radiating energy superheated and vaporized the cables just ahead of the fireball, resulting in the "spike" effects.
Upshot-Knothole Grable, a test carried out by the U.S. military in Nevada on May 25, 1953. A 280mm nuclear shell was fired 10km into the desert by the M65 Atomic Cannon, detonating in the air, about 500 feet above the ground, with a resulting 15 kiloton explosion.
This "Survival Town" house, photographed recently, was built some 7,500 feet from a 29-kiloton nuclear detonation—it remained essentially intact. Survival Town consisted of houses, office buildings, fallout shelters, power systems, communications equipment, radio broadcasting station, and trailer homes. The test, called Apple II, was fired on May 5, 1955.
A 1971 photo of a nuclear bomb detonated by the French government at the Moruroa atoll, French Polynesia.
Observers view atmospheric testing during operation Hardtack I—a thermonuclear detonation during the Pacific tests in 1958.
Somehow the insane ones seem to have surfaced this week in more lurid garb than their usual straitjackets and cross-gartered fools' motley. First we had the depraved Doctor
Mengele Nucatola discussing parting out babies while sipping her wine and munching on her salad. Now we have the current perverted creatures of the ecopsychos babbling on and on and on.... in search of a solution when suicide is right in front of them.
The third lady to speak, the one with all-natural, not-at-all-technological adult braces, is Ms Lierre Keith, a former radical vegan and now self-described “gender abolitionist” whose strange mental adventures have previously entertained us. Ms Keith and her associates wish to wage “decisive ecological warfare” against… well, the rest of us, and to “disrupt and dismantle industrial civilisation,” with “complete economic collapse” as the path to salvation. When not signalling their intellectual wattage by calling for the “abolition” of masculinity and “whiteness,” and the “abolition” of the United States, “an illegitimate settler nation,” Deep Green Resistance very much like the idea of “sabotaging infrastructure” and cutting power lines, thereby leaving tens of thousands of people without light and heat. Such measures would, apparently, encourage “class consciousness.” Elderly people in remote locations would no doubt embrace the finer points of revolutionary eco-socialism as they shivered in the dark and the feeling left their limbs.
When all those "low-information voters" have a face at last.
From Hoovervilles to Obamavilles. Extra points for decoding "newcomers."
Four and a half months
Did you ever have to make up your mind?
Pick up on one and leave the other behind.
It's not often easy and not often kind.
Did you ever have to make up your mind?
-- The Loving Spoonful
Like most serious people in America today, I've had to struggle with my views on abortion. You are required, in this deadlocked and soul-locked society to have a view on this issue. "I don't know" just wont cut it. You've got to know. It says so right here in America: The Instructions.
But what do I know about Abortion? Here's what I thought I knew then and what I think I know now. Why today? Because I read the news today (Oh boy). And the news is only too happy to tell me that January 22, 2009, is the 36th Anniversary of the Roe v. Wade decision that released the crushing Abortion juggernaut to roll over the soul of America.
Abortion is, as we all know, one of the 25 or 30 third rails of American politics. So what? A President must prove to the American people that, from time to time, he can reach out and touch a few of these rails with both hands. This can be, as I am sure George W. Bush discovered and Barack Obama will find, a shocking experience, but I wouldn't want a man as President who couldn't do it.
Like it or not the issue of abortion is one of those rails. Bush grasped it to his cost and benefit, but it is clear he did so out of personal conviction and not political expediency. Whether or not you like his choice depends on your choice. But grasp it he did. I'm pretty clear where he stood on abortion. Obama is on record, where record there is, of being pro-abortion, even in its most odious forms. But it seems that Obama is more a man of expediency than conviction and such men are always malleable. Decisions from Obama, always have the whiff of Prufrockian diffidence about them:
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
This Prufrockian posture in civic life clothed in the skin and expressions of some smooth operator is one of the main reasons Obama has been able to feed his legions -- so far-- on the thin political gruel of "hope." Now that he has entered the realm of his every syllable being recorded and his every move being examined like auguries, his long stroll on the beach is over. He is now expected to serve up the bitter and chafing gall of "change" and convince his legions it tastes of ambrosia. Somewhere on the list of ingredients in this dish is "abortion."
"Most of the people want liver and so, for that reason, most providers will do this case under ultrasound guidance so they'll know where they're putting their forceps." Dr. Deborah Nucatola
Watching this "woman" poking her salad and swirling her wine while discussing the Planned Dismemberment of babies and selling their parts is one of the most horrifying things I can remember in the entire abortion 'debate'.
LOS ANGELES, July 14—New undercover footage shows Planned Parenthood Federation of America’s Senior Director of Medical Services, Dr. Deborah Nucatola, describing how Planned Parenthood sells the body parts of aborted fetuses, and admitting she uses partial-birth abortions to supply intact body parts.
In the video, Nucatola is at a business lunch with actors posing as buyers from a human biologics company. As head of PPFA’s Medical Services department, Nucatola has overseen medical practice at all Planned Parenthood locations since 2009. She also trains new Planned Parenthood abortion doctors and performs abortions herself at Planned Parenthood Los Angeles up to 24 weeks.
The buyers ask Nucatola, “How much of a difference can that actually make, if you know kind of what’s expected, or what we need?”
“It makes a huge difference,” Nucatola replies. “I’d say a lot of people want liver. And for that reason, most providers will do this case under ultrasound guidance, so they’ll know where they’re putting their forceps. The kind of rate-limiting step of the procedure is calvarium. Calvarium—the head—is basically the biggest part.”
Nucatola explains, “We’ve been very good at getting heart, lung, liver, because we know that, so I’m not gonna crush that part, I’m gonna basically crush below, I’m gonna crush above, and I’m gonna see if I can get it all intact.”
“And with the calvarium, in general, some people will actually try to change the presentation so that it’s not vertex,” she continues. “So if you do it starting from the breech presentation, there’s dilation that happens as the case goes on, and often, the last step, you can evacuate an intact calvarium at the end.”
Using ultrasound guidance to manipulate the fetus from vertex to breech orientation before intact extraction is the hallmark of the illegal partial-birth abortion procedure (18 U.S.C. 1531).
Nucatola also reveals that Planned Parenthood’s national office is concerned about their liability for the sale of fetal parts: “At the national office, we have a Litigation and Law Department which just really doesn’t want us to be the middle people for this issue right now,” she says. “But I will tell you that behind closed doors these conversations are happening with the affiliates.”
Blamin' it all (I'm blamin' it all)
On the nights on Broadway (blame it on the nights on Broadway)
Singin' them love songs (yeah, yeah)
Singin' them "straight to the heart" songs
Blamin' it all (I'm blamin' it all)
On the nights on Broadway
Singin' them sweet sounds
To that crazy, crazy town
"Producer Arif Mardin asked if one of the Bee Gees member could do some screaming during the main chorus to make the song more exciting. In response, Barry Gibb began singing higher and higher, eventually singing it in a falsetto that was unexpectedly powerful. He had never known he had such an ability and Barry's falsetto became a trademark of the Bee Gees, although Maurice had been harmonizing in falsetto for years and did the shadow "blamin it all" part in falsetto, Barry recalled in a May 2001 interview with Mojo magazine "Arif said to me, "Can you scream?" I said, "under certain circumstances". He said, "Can you scream in tune?" I said, "well, I'll try"" -- La Wik
I was going to write something blindingly interesting and insightful about Omar Sharif but the impulse petered out in a parsec. Fortunately the bad boy of the blarney Sippican Cottage did it and did it better than I could by approaching the subject widdershins in Sippican Cottage: RIP: Omar Sharif.
Excerpt: "Now think of this:
The producer wanted Omar Sharif to play the part of the Arab guide that Omar Sharif shoots at the well. A bit part. The part of Sherif Ali was supposed to be played by Horst Buchholtz of all people, or Alain Delon, for crissakes. This would have never happened:Continued...
Omar Sharif (1932 - 2015)
One by one they appear in
the darkness: a few friends, and
a few with historical
names. How late they start to shine!
but before they fade they stand
perfectly embodied, all
the past lapping them like a
cloak of chaos. They were men
who, I thought, lived only to
renew the wasteful force they
spent with each hot convulsion.
They remind me, distant now.
True, they are not at rest yet,
but now that they are indeed
apart, winnowed from failures,
they withdraw to an orbit
and turn with disinterested
hard energy, like the stars.
Speech after long silence; it is right,
All other lovers being estranged or dead,
Unfriendly lamplight hid under its shade,
The curtains drawn upon unfriendly night,
That we descant and yet again descant
Upon the supreme theme of Art and Song:
Bodily decrepitude is wisdom; young
We loved each other and were ignorant.
- - William Butler Yeats
"It was the late '70s when artists Marina Abramović and Ulay began performing out of vans and fell in love. The relationship sadly came to an end, and they decided to walk the Wall of China to share one last embrace. That was the last time they saw one another. By 2010, Marina had a new art project. She would sit in silence with complete strangers. On the opening night, guess who showed up? None other than Ulay." | Diply
If you don't visit Hope n' Change Cartoons at least twice a week, Mother is going to be very disappointed in you.
If Hope n' Change wasn't on the last day of our imaginary vacation,
we'd certainly be commenting on one or more of the issues mentioned above. Probably in language which would frighten men, make women faint, and turn livestock barren.
And if we weren't enjoying a well deserved day off, we might write an entire editorial about how a lot of seemingly unrelated recent news stories all seem to be pieces of the same big puzzle. One that, when assembled, paints a pretty frightening picture for America's future.....
It's Stockholm Syndrome. The "nice" people war-game what resistance to The Left would mean, conclude they wouldn't like what might happen, so they sit down and wait for magic or someone else to stop the decline. The Left hasn't just taken over the country, we've fled the battlefield AND given them our minds as well. Their media is unwatched, yet we multiply it's reach by studiously monitoring every second of it, and trumpeting it to our side.
"The Left demands X, and we invent some rule that happens to mean in this case X might be the outcome.
"There is no rule, there never was a rule. The Left makes demands and we just surrender and mask that surrender with some self-invented rule. No matter how many times we "discover" the rule must not be what we thought, because that would dictate Y, we still keep referring to some rule that ought to bind The Left.
"The Left isn't advancing any rule or bound by any rule, other than They Win.
"We argue about rules, extrapolate the rule into the future, see future bad consequences from the rule, and think we've done something.
"The Left is personally and deliberately gunning for you. You won't find a place to hide, you won't be left alone. You won't moderate your views until they don't think you are a threat. You are a threat simply by being here and no amount of fairness, preemptive explanations about peace, love, and understanding will spare you the treatment they give to their worst opponents.
"The people The Left have targeted in the past weren't targeted because of some excess measure of opposition to Leftism, but because of ANY opposition to Leftism.
"The Lukewarm Republicans, in D.C. and in Mayberry, are helping The Left destroy this country and as long as you believe you or someone else can stop The Left with clever tactics in moderate ways you are giving aid and comfort to those that surrender to every fight with The Left.
"You will get no credit for being the first or last to rush to condemn some Republican politician.
"You will get no credit for being the first or last person to have an opinion on the Confederate flag.
"You will get no credit for welcoming or blocking illegals inside the country.
"If you are 1% less Leftist than Party Secretary Obama, you will be treated as if you were Party Secretary Obama's sworn mortal enemy.
"You are/will be targeted by The Left no matter what so you might as well fight back and take some of them out before you're gone.
"Being "the last Jew to understand where the cattle cars are headed" isn't something to be proud about."
Posted by tscottme on "The primary problem with the post-American populace"
“Breathe in strength. Breathe out bullsh*t”
"Previous generations of combat vets did not have a federal government propping up the "caring" professions trying to convince every vet that s/he is a victim rather than warrior conqueror. Previous administrations did not tell vets that they were mentally damaged from their service, suspect of conduct and classified as actual threats to the domestic US as potential domestic terrorists.
"My father in law saw heavy, heavy combat against the Japanese in WW2, having stepped onto gun-swept beaches eight (count 'em, 8!) times and fighting through the subsequent campaigns, including the lengthy Philippines campaign. He had buddies die in his arms and was attacked more than once by enemy aircraft (an experience not one present-day soldier or Marine has endured).
"Did he come down with PTSD? You bet your sweet ass he did. After I married his daughter and we visited, I would be awakened almost every night by his nightmare moans. That was 40 years later, and I heard them for years afterward, too.
"And what did Col. S. do the next morning? He got up early, ate breakfast, showered, got dressed and went to work to support his family. Every day for 50-plus years. He joined the Lions Club and more, went to church and served on the planning commission of his large-city home town.
"He did, dinosaur that he was what REAL MEN DO, and never regretted what he endured. It was, as he told me, "what we had to do, and when we had done it, we came home and got on with life."
"What he and his hero-comrades did not do was come home to a government and a society that treated them like ticking time bombs, as objects of pity and, frankly, scorn, as permanent wards of the state, or as mentally delicate infants whose sanity could be shattered by a string of firecrackers on the 4th of July.`
"They were, and their country was, in a word, made of tougher and sterner stuff than we are today.
"Reader, are you offended by my words? Well screw you. I am a retired Army combat officer. My son fought in Iraq in the Marine Corps as an AAV crewman.
"In battle, our men and women fighters are as tough as any generation ever had. But we ruin them when we bring them home. And I think it is on purpose. That is the greatest national shame of the post-9/11 wars."
Posted by: plus.google.com/104841162830331053592 in The Top 40: After careful consideration, I can only conclude that these signs are pathetic, self-defeating crap.
Bob Ross Remixed.
Government said, You run the joint. Maybe I'll try to help you.
And the chumps agreed, God bless you, Government. You've always been fair with me.
Now the chumps have got the Government as a partner. Any problems, they goes to the Government. Trouble with a bill, to the Government. Trouble with jobs, liquidity, healthcare, they calls the Government.
But now the chumps have to pay the Government... every week no matter what.
"Business bad? Fuck you, pay me."
"Had a fire? Fuck you, pay me."
"The place got hit by lightning? Fuck you, pay me."
Also, now the Government could do anything. Like run up bills on the joint's credit. And why not? Nobody will pay for it anyway.
Take deliveries at the front door and sell it out the back at a discount.
Take a case of booze and sell it.
It doesn't matter. It's all profit.
Then finally, when there's nothing left... when you can't borrow another buck from the Chinese... you bust the joint out.
You light a match.
Well, they’ll stone ya when you’re trying to be so good
They’ll stone ya just a-like they said they would
They’ll stone ya when you’re tryin’ to go home
Then they’ll stone ya when you’re there all alone
But I would not feel so all alone
Everybody must get stoned
Well, they’ll stone ya when you’re walkin’ ’long the street
They’ll stone ya when you’re tryin’ to keep your seat
They’ll stone ya when you’re walkin’ on the floor
They’ll stone ya when you’re walkin’ to the door
But I would not feel so all alone
Everybody must get stoned
They’ll stone ya when you’re at the breakfast table
They’ll stone ya when you are young and able
They’ll stone ya when you’re tryin’ to make a buck
They’ll stone ya and then they’ll say, “good luck”
Tell ya what, I would not feel so all alone
Everybody must get stoned
Well, they’ll stone you and say that it’s the end
Then they’ll stone you and then they’ll come back again
They’ll stone you when you’re riding in your car
They’ll stone you when you’re playing your guitar
Yes, but I would not feel so all alone
Everybody must get stoned
Well, they’ll stone you when you walk all alone
They’ll stone you when you are walking home
They’ll stone you and then say you are brave
They’ll stone you when you are set down in your grave
But I would not feel so all alone
Everybody must get stoned
Hillsdale College's choir sings "America the Beautiful"
James A. Holleman, Music Director | Debra Wyse, Accompanist/Assistant Conductor
America the Beautiful
By Katharine Lee Bates, 1913
O beautiful for spacious skies,
For amber waves of grain,
For purple mountain majesties
Above the fruited plain!
America! America! God shed His grace on thee,
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea!
O beautiful for pilgrim feet,
Whose stern impassion’d stress
A thoroughfare for freedom beat
Across the wilderness!
America! America! God mend thine ev’ry flaw,
Confirm thy soul in self-control,
Thy liberty in law!
O beautiful for heroes proved In liberating strife,
Who more than self their country loved,
And mercy more than life!
America! America! May God thy gold refine
Till all success be nobleness,
And ev’ry gain divine!
O Beautiful for patriot dream
That sees beyond the years
Thine alabaster cities gleam,
Undimmed by human tears!
America! America! God shed His grace on thee,
Till selfish gain no longer stain
The banner of the free!
Arranged by Frank La Rocca
"Today I swung my front door wide open and placed my Remington 12 gauge semi-auto shotgun right in the doorway. I put 9 shells beside it, then left it alone and went about my business.
"While I was gone, the mailman delivered my mail, the neighbor boy across the street mowed the yard, a girl walked her dog down the street, and quite a few cars stopped at the stop sign near the front of my house.
"After about an hour, I checked on the gun. It was still sitting there, right where I had left it. It hadn't moved itself. It certainly hadn't killed anyone, even with the numerous opportunities it had presented to do so. In fact, it hadn't even loaded itself.
"Well you can imagine my surprise, with all the hype by the Left and the Media about how dangerous guns are and how they kill people.
"I must be in possession of the laziest gun in the world.
"The United States is third in Murders throughout the World. But if you take out just four cities: Chicago, Detroit, Washington, DC and New Orleans, the United States is fourth from the bottom, in the entire world, for Murders! These four Cities also have the toughest Gun Control Laws in the U. S. All four of these cities are controlled by Democrats. It would be absurd to draw any conclusions from this data - right?
"Well, I'm off to check on my spoons. I hear they're making people fat."
[A note found in my email]
Back in the day, my first wife had this face. I always thought of it and referred to it as "anus mouth." At the time I actually thought it was caused by my presence. Alas, according to reports coming in over the decades, it wasn't. It was hardwired. She's probably still afflicted with it.Continued...