Thursday, December 31, 2015

Happy New Year

Happy New Year! Makes you wonder just what the New Year means. It’s only the difference of one minute at midnight, and suddenly everything’s different? I don’t think it’s as much as expectations of something new as much as goodbyes. I started the year alone. Family up in Utah, I had the flu, and was in a big house living on Ramen soup and coffee. I’d basically been alone since Ocatillo Wells, so that didn’t bother me. Then, as the year progressed, the family did come back, but I had to watch Joe go down. Then my ex had another heart attack, then two, then Joe died and the rest went back up to Utah.
I’d like to tell you I’m a depressed writer, contemplating suicide, but I’m not. If you are a depressed writer you are not writing. I live within my stories. The act of communication sustains me. I guess that if I counted all the hours I’ve been alone it might overwhelm me, but actually I never consider it. When I look at all that I’ve written, if I’d planned it then I would have never gotten anything done. I’m lazy. That’s why I’ve put off the three books now scheduled for release in 2016.
Much of my composition was political. Hey, I’m gonna be honest with you. When Doc Greene pulled me into Raging Elephants I didn’t even know what a RINO was. The first dozen articles or so I was absolutely winging it. I dubbed myself a Simple Ol’ Boy From Austin because when I messed up I could always say, “Hey! I told you I was stupid from the get go!” As the year went by I actually began to have an opinion. Political opinions are easy. You just watch the politicians and report the facts. I don’t think I’ve met one that I totally agree with yet, but shucks, if you agree with me one hundred percent, then you’re crazy.
I did become a tad more politically correct this year, if you can believe that. With Crystal Lee Larimore’s guidance I cleaned up my language a bit. Never did get a grip on grammar, though. When I was a senior in high school my English teacher, Miss Hornbuckle, told me that I’d never be able to communicate in the English language. Suck it up, Miss Hornbuckle. When she made that statement I’d been churning out a book a year in high school, and passing them around to my classmates. I’ve always been able to grab an image and put it out for people to see.
I sit tonight, still alone, doing this article, the only thing on my mind is hoping no one drops by, and disturbs my solitude because they think I’m “lonely.” I have Cleo, my Dear’s Head Chihuahua. Cleo and I have bonded this year. Originally, I bought her for Joe. His Cleo committed suicide in the pool. He left me her, and his shoes. Told me she’d keep me happy, and be a good companion. Considering the Supreme Court decision on the rules of marriage, I’ve considering marrying Cleo, but I think she’s a Presbyterian.
As I said, the New Year isn’t so much about “hello” as “goodbye,” and I’ve said goodbye to a few friends this year. Joe, of course, and a friend named Eric who left us just last week. Went to the golf course, drove a beautiful shot, and Jesus handed him the putter. No better way to finish the round, I guess. And now the number changes, and the door closes. Happy New Year.
 

Wednesday, December 30, 2015

So, What Makes a Writer?

 
So, what makes a writer, or rather, a blogger? Well, beer helps, but experience does, too. I’ve been writing since 1962, but if I’d been making shoes since then, I’d probably be a fairly good shoe maker by now. It doesn’t matter what you do, so long as you do it long enough then, you’ll eventually become good at it. Basically, I’m a song writer. Writing a song is simple. Three verses, a lead riff, a chorus, and you’re done. Blogging is no different. Start with an idea, bang it, reinforce it, and you’re out. A lot of people don’t notice it, but I put a chorus in every article. Now, it’s not apparent, like it’s not like a song, but it’s there. A repeating logic to drive home the idea of the article.
A song writer is concerned with flow. Flow is like it has to roll off the tongue, and I do that, I mean, I really do. People see me talking to myself, and they think I’m crazy, but I’m not. I’m vocalizing my articles to make sure that they flow. The simple shift of a word, or phrase that makes an article flow easily makes it easy to remember. The article has to stick in someone’s head, just like a song. Like the word, “but” is harsh, but “and” is not, and they mean basically the same thing.
Original ideas are important, but more than that is the delivery. It isn’t what you say, but how you say it. And set the reader up to anticipate what you’re going to say. You open the gate and the reader willingly walks through it. Returning to the beginning is a biggie. I call that “circles.” You don’t want your reader to ask, “Where is this going?” because if they ask that then they’re already lost. Forget about all that crap you learned in school, except for spelling, that’s important, but spell check has your back. Talk to your reader in their language, because if you use all that elevated English some college professor taught you then you might as well be talking in Swahili. That comes back to flow, also. You don’t want the reader to be stumble bumbling over words that they have to Google.
I think that somewhere down the pike I’ve created a style, and even though it was by accident, it now has a purpose. The purpose is to get young people to read the article with the same enthusiasm they have when they listen to their favorite song, and that’s because that’s exactly what I do; write a song without the melody, but with the same spirit.
It helps if you have something to say, too. You have to have at least some conviction, and don’t lie! If you don’t believe in abortion then just say it! Don’t be jellyfish about it. Throw it out there, and there will be people who think just like you, they just can’t articulate it. Fly high above the issues. The higher you fly, the less likely someone is going to come along and stick a pin in your balloon. And don’t count money! If you are a writer, then be one. Just write. Reads are more important than money. If you court money, you’ll find very quickly that she is a whore, and she doesn’t love you. Stay true to yourself, draw the circles, and it’ll all work out. Ask yourself; how rich was Hemmingway when he died? Writers are thinkers and chosen to be so. So THINK, write, and open the gates to human communication.  
Simple Ol' Boy From Austin
    

Tuesday, December 29, 2015

The Icy Waters of Delaware

The icy waters of the Delaware send us a modern message about Americans that ISIS has overlooked. The recent videos and audio from that group, including that smart-mouth boy with the British accent seems to elevate the terrorists over all things American, as if we were just a post script in history, a people with no purpose, or backbone. As they wag their tongues, and pray to their “god” they believe that no amount of resistance will succeed, and eventually their black flag will fly over the White House.
America never had it easy. From the Pilgrims forward, nothing came short and sweet for Americans. But, they developed personality. After fighting with natives, clearing forests, building cities, starving, and getting little or no support from the old country, a simple tea tax lit the fuse that blew up into the Revolutionary War. And, yes, God was a part of it.
It amuses me when ISIS thinks that they, and only they, have a lock on God. They act as if we are just a bunch of savages who run hither and yon with no consideration of any moral value. They know nothing about why Washington crossed the Delaware. I’m gonna be up front with ya’ll. The first part of the war was just a continuous butt stomping, delivered by the best equipped army in the world. The British burned New York right off the bat, sending the Americans scampering through the woods with no ammo, and no socks. On Christmas, of all days, Washington decides to launch an attack on Hessian forces celebrating the holiday.
Now, this gives you a view of the mindset of the forces arrayed against the patriots. They had such little regard for them that they decided to take the day off and get drunk. Washington was not like minded. Around 11:00 PM, he takes about 2400 troops, gets in a boat, and starts across the icy waters toward the Jersey side. There was supposed to be 3000 more troops to join, but they couldn’t make it. This is the way the whole war had been going, so Washington just considered it to be business as usual, and proceeded anyway.
At approximately 8 AM, he split his remaining force into two columns, reached Trenton, and entertained the hung over Hessians. The Germans rolled out of bed to find themselves surrounded, and several hundred ran off into the woods, but nearly 1000 were rounded up at the cost of only four American lives. Washington didn’t have the support of artillery to maintain the town, and withdrew, but the embarrassing whipping he had delivered to the elite German troops rallied the spirit of a nation that was doubting if this fight was going to go anywhere but the gallows. This is called audacity.
This is what ISIS does not understand. Americans will only go so far. The British missed that, the Japanese missed it, and ISIS sure missed it. In spite of the current occupant of the White House there are still about three hundred million of us who are not going to bow and scrape to some street gang following a camel dung prophet. We are not just an accident of history, and we will not just hand over all we’ve built in the last three hundred years to people who shoot little kids.
Political correctness has clouded American minds, but that will pass. One day, when Muslims gather in the streets of come city in America, you will see some other people come around the corner with bats, and guns, and Delaware in their AMERICAN hearts!
 

Sunday, December 27, 2015

What If Trump Wins?

What if Trump wins? Friday I was invited to be on Doc Greene’s morning show and was surprised when the Apostle Claver Kamau-Imani chimed in. It was Christmas day, but RER being what it is, the conversation turned to politics. Doc asked the question, who do you support for president? Everybody had a choice, and mine was a Trump/Cruz ticket. Then, Claver came on board. Now, for the uninitiated, the Apostle is known as the “Purifier.” Well, we all got purified.

We, who work with Raging Elephants are very Tex-Centric, i.e. we generally don’t give a flip about America, we want a free and independent Texas because we’re simply tired of holding up the Obamanation. Claver is more Tex-Centric than Sam Houston! He’s more than me, and boys and girls that’s going some. To make a long story short, he believes that wasting gas to go to the polls would be better used running around to Burger King.

The way I gathered, the Apostle thinks that the national system is a stacked deck, and no matter who wins it will be the same old bunch pulling the strings. On that I must say I agree, but I view the national elections much like a horse race.  In the end a horse will win, and you don’t have to like the horse to put two dollars down at the window. Another friend told me yesterday that Hillary is going to win, and that’s that. It’s a rigged race, and even should she die between November and January the powers that be will swear in her dead body.

But, what if Trump wins? Before I launch into that, consider this; like him or hate him, Donald Trump is blowing the doors off of the polls. The Republican Party is exposing it’s hypocrisy by pretending he doesn’t exist and pushing losers like Jeb Bush because like Hillary, Jeb is one of the gilded prodigies of the beltway. But, what if Trump wins? Donald Trump is a brilliant businessman, but he doesn’t know squat about politics. One thing Claver pointed out was that Ted Cruz is a slimy politician and a yes man who made his bones touring the country parroting what his handlers told him to. That is exactly why I want him to be Vice President.

Let me ask you, what was wrong with Jimmy Carter? He was Navy, had a good education, had been in office in Georgia, God fearing, but he wasn’t one of them! During his administration he was lucky if he got to pardon the Thanksgiving Turkey. I give you, Donald Trump! He’d walk into Congress, and they’d look at this New York real estate broker, and then at their watches, and never pass a single bill. It’s going to take a Ted Cruz to know how to manipulate the wheels under that dome.

Is Ted perfect? Uh. . . . no! Claver pointed out that this man never ran for office before 2012, and now he’s jumping up trying to be president. Good point, but, he has walked the halls of Congress, and is a United States Senator. If Trump really wants to build a wall on the southern border, it’ll be Cruz who finds the cement.

Will a Trump/Cruz win change history? Nah. America is far to messed up for any one administration to untie all the knots. Obama has torn down everything he possibly could promoting the Islamazation of the country, and it’s going to take a minute before God blesses America again. We have to prove ourselves, and, it’s all just a horse race.
 
Simple Ol' Boy From Austin

http://www.amazon.com/Simple-Boy-Austin-Wilbur-Witt/dp/1503179540/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1422121598&sr=8-1&keywords=Wilbur+Witt

Thursday, December 24, 2015

Whatever Happened to Mary?

Whatever happened to Mary? If you want to start an intense debate among Christians, just bring up Mary. Her position in the great cosmic story of salvation has been elevated, and minimized accordingly, depending upon which theologian is commenting at the time. As Catholics repeat the “Hail Mary,” Baptists pray that she’ll just go away. Much contemplation, and commentary centers on this little girl.
So who is Mary? According to the Bible, she was the mother of Jesus Christ. She received a visit from an angel, was informed that she would have a child, and that child would be the son of God. Mary was practical. She felt as if she had to educate the angel a bit, i.e. she wasn’t married, and she was still a virgin. Now, this is where the theologians get petty about things.
Theologians are like lawyers. The only time they twist the truth is when their mouths are open.  Breaking down the Greek, they interpret the word, “virgin” as everything from absolutely as pure as a five year old Shirley Temple all the way up to someone who only had one husband and hasn’t had a child yet. I, personally think it meant Mary was a good little girl. She made it very clear to the angel, and he basically agreed with her on that point, but told her not to worry about it because God had her back.
Mary was probably around fourteen years old. Before you start throwing tomatoes at me please understand that in this era people lived to up around thirty, or thirty-five, so at fourteen or so, little Mary had most likely lived around half of her life. At any rate, she became with child, which freaked her fiancĂ© completely out. He knew it wasn’t him, and he also knew that the result of such a thing could be stoning. He decides to put her away “privately,” as opposed to the strip to the rock yard. Joseph was a good old boy.
Nothing ever came easy for Mary. Nowadays, women get wheeled into an operating room, given pain killers, and smile for the camera holding the new addition to the family. Mary got about a seventy mile trip on a jack-ass, did her labor in a barn, and the king tried to kill the baby. And you think you’ve had it rough!
The Nativity scene we’ve all come to know is actually a composite of the Gospels, and little tradition thrown in. Was she really in a stable?  There was no room at the inn, but consider; if Joseph was returning to his tribal home to register for taxes, wouldn’t you think he’d have had at least a cousin in town somewhere. I mean, it was Bethlehem, not Jerusalem. These people all knew each other. Staying in a stable was not the raging insult that we think. First off let’s look at timing. Although we celebrate Christmas on December 25th, the Bible says that shepherds were “abiding in the fields.” Now, I’m just a Simple Ol’ Body from Austin, but Shepherds don’t “abide” in the dead of winter, they abide closer to the equinox, say,Passover maybe? House full of relatives, lots of people in town, fourteen year old girl about to have a baby, do you think?
So, Mary has her baby, raises Him, and presents Him to the world at Cana. Joseph died early on so it was she who formed Jesus’ personality, it was she who gave him concept, it was she who knelt before the angel, and finally, before the cross. Whatever happened to Mary?
 
 

Tuesday, December 22, 2015

The Unanswered Door

 

It's been eight months since we lost Joe. I still remember that night. His request for his dog, Cleo, and an order of chicken wings. It had been a long year. Feverishly rushing to Salt Lake City for one treatment, and back to Austin for another. He resisted using oxygen, and hated the Hoveround. I finally convinced him to use the motorized chair by showing him it operated like a tank. After that he, and New Baby would do figure “8’s” in the living room. 

He'd sit on the back porch. There wasn’t much room, and we had to put a little ramp down to accommodate the chair, but he’d find his way out there most days. There were good days, and bad days. Bad days he didn’t leave the couch. Good days would see him sitting on the porch.  The neighbor behind us was building a shed. Joe had a wood shop at his house. Before his illness he would spend hours working there. Joe wasn't a carpenter, he was an artist! The front door of his house didn't come from Home Depot, he carved it from Redwood. He carved portraits into wooden planks. His brother in New York had sent him all the special woods. They didn't look like much, about the size of a floor tile, but when he was done something would be immortalized in the grain. He explained the grains and different woods to me, but I was clueless. He wasn’t, though. To him wood was forever alive. 

As he fed the wings to the little dog, I wiped my eye. 

“Men don't cry,” he said. I did, though. To see this man, with three bronze stars, a silver, and a purple heart feed that dog at the VA was a little much for me. Joe was missing in action in Vietnam. Reported back for duty in black pajamas and sandals. Now he thought about his little dog, and yes, I cried that day. 

The priest came in to administer the last rites. Joe didn't have any sins to confess, and within the hour it didn't matter anyway. I had taken the dog home, and was about to return to the hospital when I got a simple text, “He’s gone.” I stared at those words for a very long time. I still have a screen shot on my iPhone. How ironic for a man’s life to boil down to, “He’s gone!” In his last moment he looked at my ex, his wife, said, “Oh baby,” and just left us. 

The months went by. We watched all his “Buddies,” to see how his death had affected them.  You know, you can never tell what's in a child’s mind, or what level of understanding they have, but sometimes it shows and will humble you. Joe’s favorite was “New Baby.” When he finalized the adoptions, New Baby took his name. Joseph Steven Tarajos. With all the ups and downs, the funeral, the probate, and all the rest, no one paid any mind to Joe, Jr. After all, he was just the baby. 

Christmas approached. There were two more trips to Utah between Joe’s death, and then. The kids were back in Texas, setting up the tree and playing in Joe's yard. Joe would usually be in his wood shop making toys. I heard a tap, tap, tap in the distance. It was then I noticed New Baby knocking on the door of the shop. A knock that would never be answered. He stood there perplexed staring at the unanswered door. I wiped another tear, but, men don’t cry.
 

Monday, December 21, 2015

Get Obama a Green Card

The CEO of Apple said this weekend that he was against the government slicing through encryption and observing private files of his customers. This all came about because the powers that be want to get yet more power to spy upon Americans in a supposed effort to ward off terrorism. Never mind the long list of failures over the last year or so, as ISIS has its way with the world, if they can just hack into “Plenty of Fish” everything is gonna be OK.
I told you in an article previous this last week that I’d watched some YouTube videos by an ex-cop. Well, in one of those videos he addressed the question about giving your Social Security number to an officer. He explained (for about twenty minutes) all the things the cop knows about you by the time he walks up to your window, the officer is privy to your ID, your car, it’s repairs, your address, your neighbors, your criminal history, the name of your dog, and who your daughter had an affair with last week! Now this is just a beat cop. God help you when the detectives get ahold of you. And all of this is not enough to pick out some guy and gal, dressed in a clown suit, with a trunk full of ammunition, jabbering in Arabic. I feel so protected and served.
I have some ideas that might increase national security. First off, we gotta be a little bit racist. I know, I know, it’s not politically correct, but the good ship reality comes into port when some wench careens all over the Vegas Strip screaming, “Allahu Akbar.” First, don’t let any more Arabs into the country. To the best of my knowledge, during WWII, we didn’t throw the doors open to Germans and Japanese. We even put the Japanese into camps. Shut the front door! We really did that, but you know what? They didn’t find one mass grave when it was all over. We are at war with a whole bunch of little brown people which their heads screwed on backwards. I’ve seen so many ISIS killings that I’ve began to critique them. I actually evaluate the style. I admire the courage of someone on their knees waiting while some guy rants on and on about God knows what, but that’s another story. If you try to put me on my knees, they may get me, but at least one Ali-Babble is gonna share his virgins with me!
As for the southern border. Everyone is so caught up in terrorists coming over the southern border because they look Mexican. I have a solution, and Glenn Beck, I said it first so sit down! Tell El Chappo you will pay $10,000 for every Muslim ear he sends you. Compared to a war the cost will be minimal, and would enhance Mexican/American relations, what with us being more agreeable to the guy who’s really running Mexico.
No welfare for Arab immigrants. They can open a Quickie Mart just like all the rest. If Islam is so great, and they are so smart, then they should be able to outdo the rest of us in no time. Jews coming here after WWII shot right up to the top 50% of the wealth in this country. Surely, they are as smart as the Jews, right? An immigrant is someone who comes to blend into a country, not drag the old country with them, else, why did they leave in the first place? And, finally, we seriously do need to issue Obama a green card.
 

Sunday, December 20, 2015

A Christmas Story

I received a Christmas card yesterday from my friend, Chrystal Lee. I don’t get many. I put it above the fireplace. Sitting alone last night, I found myself looking at it for the longest time. I live alone, and don’t set up a tree or anything. Pam does that in the other house. Basically, that card is my only ornament. Now, before you start thinking that I’m a bitter old prick, I’m not, but somehow that card put me into a melancholy mood. Whiskey helps. Doctors say it’s bad for you, but there are more old drunks than there are old doctors.
By and by my thoughts centered on recent events. Just by chance I caught a little bit of “A Christmas Story,” on Netflix, but didn’t watch it all because my mind began to turn out a more current Christmas Story. I thought of the fourteen in San Bernardino.  I thought about their husbands, wives, kids, aunts, uncles, grandparents, and all their friends and co-workers, and I considered what their Christmas must be like. The funerals, the empty plate, the clothes still hanging in the closet, the empty desk at work. Yes, Allah was truly great that day. He certainly spread a lot of holiday cheer, didn’t he?
It is hard enough to lose a grandparent, or someone who has been ill for a very long time, but to lose someone who simply went to an office party is horrific. There is no preparation, no understanding, nothing! Just loss, and pain, and the pain will never go away, and the hole in your heart will never completely heal. I thought of the children left behind. If you think such an event is rough on adults, put yourself in their shoes. On one hand is the expectation of Santa, only this time they have to look at mommy, or daddy in a box, and the big people try to explain to you how they are in heaven, but you don’t really know where that’s at, only that they won’t be coming home with you.
So I lit another cigarette, poured another glass of Jim Beam, and thought of Paris. If San Bernardino gives you pause, Paris is overwhelming. The city of light. A concert transformed into a field of death. One minute, music and laughter, and the next, chaos! A man running for his life, leaving his dead wife because of his age and inability to simply drag her body out of the building. Seems Allah doesn’t like parties, and certainly doesn’t get into music, and happiness.
I don’t spread it all around but I don’t pray. I talk to Jesus all through my day. Now, don’t get me wrong, He doesn’t talk back, that’s schizophrenia, but thoughts, from without form in my mind, such as this article. The Lord said that if someone hits you, then you should turn the other cheek, but He also said that one day you would have to sell your coat, and buy a sword. My friend, Doc Greene, updates that and says we should buy a gun. Just by chance I watched a retired police officer explaining that most beat cops want an armed citizenry. It’s only the chiefs and upper end that bow and scrape to the politicians, and advocate gun control.   
Some Muslim cleric said last week that to say, “Merry Christmas” was worse than murder. Well, he doesn’t have to worry about that. Allah certainly took the “Merry” out of Christmas, now didn’t he? Then the message of the card became clear. Rise up, Patriots, we have work to do!
 

Ali-Baba and the Boys

 
I am amazed at how stupid the government is when it comes to terrorists. Now, there’s this guy who was friends with the male involved in the San Bernardino attack, buying not one, but two assault rifles, posting all kinds of stuff on Facebook about it, and planning three different attacks for years! And where was the almighty Fed? Why they were giving guns to El Chappo to see if he’d use them, that’s where. Where was the NSA? Listening to phone calls so MSNBC could catch another child porn distributer. Where was the FBI? Chasing down two kids in a park, making out with a joint in their hands. I feel so served and protected.
We’re paying these people, folks. And they get retirement, and new jobs in some other gum shoe department. They can’t track down a bunch of brown people wearing clown suits and screaming at the American flag, God help us if these super sleuths got involved in something like the Mafia! Come to think of it, maybe they should. If Osama Bin Forgotten had killed the granddaughter of Don Whomever, how long do you think he’d have hung out in them thar hills before some button man put a plastic bag over his head?
Donald Trump is wrong! We don’t need to bar Muslims from coming here, we need to round up all of those that are here, and put them in FEMA camps. We need to pull every single troop out of the Middle East, bring them home, and secure our borders. ALL our borders! We need to make it a felony to import one drop of Middle Eastern oil. We need to tell who ever runs that circus over there that we have allotted one hundred nuclear missiles, all of them aimed at them under the watchful eye of a pardoned serial killer with his finger super-glued to the button! We need to classify the possession of a Qu’ran under the Controlled Substance law, and the speaking of Arabic as child phonography. Am I right wing racist enough for you yet?
Every day I start my day with a nice ISIS execution. Anything from machine gunning a bunch of kids, to shooting a grandmother for letting her ankles show on the way to the store, and the great Liberal-Sama in the White House won’t even use the term Radical Islam or ISIS, preferring to call the group ISIL. For those of you who don’t know the difference, ISIS refers to Iraq and Syria, and ISIL wants all the way through Israel to Egypt.
With all this preparation, this planning, and this social media action from these three idiots involved in the attack in California, our so-called “intelligence” network didn’t pick up one word! They barged into a Christmas party, blasting, and the FED sat there with their faces hanging out. But you let K. C. Massey try to stop illegals from jumping the border and they are all over it. We can’t have any cowboys with guns trying to defend the nation! And while your government was spending thousands to make sure you were protected from K. C. Ali-Baba and the boys and girls was stockpiling ammo, and pipe bombs, and chatting and texting all over the planet!
I said it before, and I’ll say it again. We are at war! This is stealth Jihad. These mongrels have infiltrated our nation, and set up sleeper cells in every state. Our job should be to put them to sleep. . . PERMENANTLY! These people aren’t smart enough to win, unless we patriots are asleep.  
Simple Ol' Boy From Austin

Wednesday, December 16, 2015

Nacole

When I began my present career as a writer, as you may, or may not know, I was involved with fighting the CPS (Child Protective Services.) I knew very little about the department. Originally, I’d been a temporary foster home for children in transition, indeed, had been paid by the department for services rendered. As luck would have it my daughter in law became involved with CPS, and as a good “dad” I took up her cause. I’ve told you before that I’m allowed to be wrong twice a year, and brothers and sisters, Jackie was one of those times. The end product was I was divorced, my ex adopted the grandkids, and Jackie split to parts unknown.
While still stinging from my butt whipping I began to write for Angel Eyes Over Texas about CPS, and turned out some fairly good stuff. Basically, I was astounded by the lack of professionalism, and the complete ignorance of the Bill of Rights. I came up with several ideas during this time which floated up during the Sunset Commission, but I began to think that there was no hope. Children were dying, children were being lost, money was misappropriated, and all of this had nothing to do with Jackie. As her lifestyle drifted back to us, as a family, we began to see the true Jackie, and on both sides of the fence, all were glad that she was no longer part of the children’s lives.
My ex remarried, and began to raise the babies in Utah and Killeen. The reason for this was her new husband, Joe, was suffering from Agent Orange and had to constantly travel between Salt Lake and Austin to get treatment. He lost his battle in April of 2015, but not before he formally adopted all the children, and bestowed on them all of his benefits earned from his service to our country, and that service was beyond belief. Three bronze stars and a silver one, Purple Heart, the ol’ Sarge served his last mission and took the hill, leaving his “buddies” set for life.
My ex settled in Utah to raise the children. All was well, except for one little detail. Lying, greedy relations who saw gold in them thar hills, and when my ex had a heart attack, these vultures rose to the occasion, not to help, but to steal! The ex had three heart surgeries, none of which worked, and had to come back to Texas where there are real doctors to get fixed, which she did. A Utah CPS case had been filed on her while she was under the knife, and she drove herself, and the children to safety while bleeding.
Enter one Nacole Wyche! The Utah case followed down to Texas and Ms. Wyche was assigned the case. She’d met the kids before. She had a double degree, one in psychology, and most of all, she was from Killeen! Naturally, while pulling all the knives out of our backs, we were a bit rattled when she showed up. I’ll make a long story short. Nacole Wyche was the epitome of public servant. She was fair, caring, intelligent, and truly loved children. She cut right to the core, and while I won’t tell you details, I will say that maybe, just maybe, we’ve all turned a corner. Previous to this I’d been exposed to case workers who couldn’t even communicate in the English Language. Not Ms. Wyche! This woman should be a writer! In conclusion, I’d like to say, if the “department” is gaining people like Nacole, we just may be blessed!
 

Tuesday, December 15, 2015

Saudi Arabian Coalition

 
So, Saudi Arabia decided to form a coalition to combat terrorism. Well alert the media! Camel Jockeys of the world unite! Which bombing, beheading, active shooting, or pedophile rape got their attention. About the only thing they said that was right was in quoting the Qu’ran in that making “mischief” around the world is not cool, but I think Mohammed adjusted that later. As you may, or may not know, when Allah reveals, He often makes mistakes which get fixed in the divine edit. Go figure!
I’ve seen so many ISIS executions that I have begun to critique the photography. And, there’s always that one Islamabastard screaming “Aloha Saladbar,” after he runs out of bullets. Did you catch that little English prick in the middle of about two hundred of these idiots going on and on about how powerful ISIS is, ending in screaming something in Arabic? I’d love to have a drone missile break up that little party, and blow that little motor mouth all over the wall.
Ok, recap; what happened to the Russians? I thought they were going to put the wood to ISIS before, like Thursday. Here’s what it really is. The Middle East is screwed, stewed, and tattooed. This so called “cradle of civilization,” is nothing more than a sewer, filled with unemployed bums, goat lovers, and pedophiles. They’ve only rented two books in the last three thousand years, and one was just a half-assed copy of the first. The “Holy” Qu’ran is so convoluted it makes the Book of Mormon look good.
But, anyway, the Saudis are going to address this situation according to the reports. Now, this should be interesting, because as you may recall, when Iraq jumped on Kuwait a few years ago these same mighty warriors ran for the hills, or rather, sand dunes. You will not see a huge wave if Muslim warriors rushing to battle. Muslim warriors slip into countries, rape little girls, and get on food stamps. Oh, and bitch about the constitution of whatever country they have infected.
Once again I must say that nothing good has come out of the Middle East in the last two thousand years. Even Jesus couldn’t stand these people. He went back to heaven. All the surviving apostles left for other parts. Paul died in Rome, as did Peter. Pizza in Rome beats goat in Jerusalem any day. Can you tell I’m down on those people? I’m real good at down, I mean real good at down. I’m disgusted with all the ISIS stuff, and the West prostrating itself to these tent monkeys at every turn. I have an idea for a coalition. How about all the civilized West drop nukes on the Middle East? Yeah, that’ll work out. Then, after they crawl out from under that rock they hid under, and get to reading that “Holy” Qu’ran again, all they have to do to trot over, look at that sea of glass, and get their mind right.
And please, please, forget about that “end of the world” thing. While people have been waiting for that the malcontents from that sand pit have been tearing the world up, trying to bring the rest of the world to the same standard that they brought the sand pit to.  I know that I’m beating a dead horse here, but the daily ISIS show is wearing a little thin, and that bozo in the White House has been thin. Everybody’s so messed up about Sharia Law, if you’ll note Obama’s been tearing up the constitution for years. Anybody notice that? Called liberal democratic thought.
Simple Ol' Boy From Austin

Thursday, December 10, 2015

Pied Piper of Kenya

Sometimes I think Obama’s either criminally insane, or the stupidest man on the planet. While the good people of San Bernardino are being buried, he’s telling Syrian Refugees that they are what makes America great. Am I the only one who has noticed that whenever he makes one of those statements he juts his jaw out like Mussolini? He tells us what we need to stop the war by Muslims on Christians is more gun control. We need to open the flood gates and let all the rag-tag masses from the infernal regions waltz into the country with less security than an employee at Sears Holdings. Liberals prostrate themselves to him like he’s the Pied Piper of Kenya. The country has officially gone mad!
Loretta Lynch has launched an attack on Americans, vowing to prosecute any person who says anything bad about Islam. Forget that nasty old first amendment. We don’t need no stinking freedom of speech. Ok, let’s get real. Yet again I will say, Islam is the enemy. Muslims are not our friends. They are as un-American as they can possibly be. They don’t recognize any of our laws, our constitution, our society, or our traditions. They are Islamabastards! Suck it, Loretta!
We are approaching a full scale war in this country. My God! We already have casualties. Fourteen dead, and the administration is blaming the victims for getting shot. The Texas Militia is organizing, and people, we ain’t kidding. Texas has no intention of letting these camel jockeys come in and ruin everything we’ve built since the Alamo. We have no intention of supporting these bums, and we won’t have Suzie Sweetcheeks miss nailappointment at the mall. We’re not backing up one inch.
For too long, we here in Texas rage has held back. For too long we’ve let RINOS sit in Austin, and suck up gravy, while the people suck it UP! Forget getting a Republic back, let’s just start by getting our state back. We can put the wood to the US later! What’s Texas’ biggest export? Billions and Billions of dollars to support the US because Obama has ruined it. The very idea the Japanese build more cars than we do.       The very idea that Saudi Oil calls the shots when Texas has enough oil to float the entire country, and it’s already here! The very idea that some bunch of terrorists can even think about replacing our constitution with the ramblings of some goat herder fourteen hundred years ago.
Let me give you some perspective. Arabs are diseased. I’m not kidding, and that’s not a joke. They are physically inferior to western people, white or black, or brown. When you see some wise old Imam, he’s in his fifties! The only way these people win anything is subversion, and the political correctness of fools who think they’ll be appeased by little concessions here and there. Then, before you know it, your sixteen year daughter is raped on her way to Sonic to get a Slurpee because Mohammed didn’t like grown women (he liked little girls just fine!)
This is not going away, and Texas is not going to lose, and I don’t want to hear any whining when we open that can of whoop on these foreigners. This is not DeAngelo coming over from Italy and opening a pizzeria on Mulberry Street.  This is an alien race bent on the destruction of the world. After they kill all of us, they will start killing each other until there’s only one Muslim left, and then there’ll be peace. The Pied Piper of Kenya.
 

Thursday, December 3, 2015

I'm Contraversial

I’m controversial. I suppose that goes without saying. I actually do not have a stated course, or agenda, other than Texas Freedom. Sometimes I will research an article for days before it jells and I know which way I’m going. Good case in point was this weekend where I watched dozens of documentaries, reviewed hundreds of news stories and read the works of Josephus. In addition to that I reviewed James Randi, Aron Ra, and a couple of Rabbis I know over in Jerusalem, all to boil it all down to six hundred words on this morning’s posting. That’s another of my tricks. If I can’t make my point in six hundred words I have to research more.
I fly high above the subject. Trying not to get tied down with useless argument, or commentary, I go for the human understanding we all have. That’s why I call myself a Simple Ol’ Boy From Austin. If a waitress can’t understand what I’m trying to say, I rewrite. I scatter shot, i.e. one day I’ll address the ISIS situation, and the next day will write about my first kiss from Pam Burns back in high school. If there is a common thread in my work I’ve yet to see it. Maybe fifty years after I’m dead some professor will figure me out.
I handle criticism well. Well, I handle it well if the person criticizing me is of note. If it’s some former in-law who can’t compose a grocery list I get pissed off. But if it’s a national talk show host I consider that on the same level as a kiss from Ivana Trump. This simple fact of the matter is that if you only write about polka dots and pink shoe laces no one will ever read you. You never know what will set someone off. I do not deliberately try to offend. On a one to one conversation I never discuss religion.  I’ve tried. Always ends with someone sending me to hell.
I’m developing as a writer. At sixty-four I’ve just about got this thing figured out. There’s a girl out in Nolanville who screens my stuff for grammatical errors. Consequently, I make sure I include one in every article. Also, I put one mistake in every one. A little tease to see if someone catches it. I’m crazy like that. I’m a free-lance writer, in that there is no money in blogging, or at least it has eluded me. But, that’s no surprise. I couldn’t sell a condom in a whorehouse. Sales is not my calling.
Sometimes a subject will evade me.  This morning I had all intentions of dissecting “Clock Boy.” Even had the picture ready. Then, I looked at this little nerdy kid and thought, “Gonna give him a break.” He’s beginning to figure out his parents are whacked. Kid wants to come back to Texas.  I can’t hate that. Buy that boy a Taco. Beef taco!
I hate abortion, black lives mattering, Bruce Gender and Vodka Martinis.  I love Gin Martinis, fine cigars, and any girl stupid enough to hang around me. I believe in God, but not religion. Religion is man’s feeble attempt to explain the unexplainable. The reason I believe in God is we still can’t make a leaf. I listened to hours of atheists this weekend trying to find out how to make a leaf, and those idiots didn’t even have a formula for a dry martini.
So, until assassination, I will continue to write. Entertain both myself and the public.  Having said that you’ll note I’ve reached six hundred words.
 

Wednesday, December 2, 2015

Pax Romana

ISIS makes a lot of hay promoting itself as some kind of “new odor.” The recent video, sans beheadings, expounding on the intent of the organization, its foundation, resolve, and, of course out and out hate for anyone not subscribing to their particular party line, was a decided step in propaganda, in an attempt to terrify the west with their purported “God,” the European Union scrambles, Putin sends in bombs, and Obama checks the weather.
OK, I’m going to go right to the point. The Middle East is screwed up. Did I say that right? Practically every crazy, whacked out idea to plague the modern world has come right straight off the Temple Mount. We are about to go to global war over events two to four thousand years ago that no one can even agree on the historical verification. We deserve to be extinct! DOGS could run things better than us.
Once upon a time the Jews in Jerusalem got one too many glasses of wine, and took it upon themselves to go to war against the Roman Empire. It was one of those, “Seemed like a good idea at the time,” that looked a tad bit different when the legions came over the hill led by one Vespasian and son Titus. These esteemed gentlemen inflicted a hangover upon the Jews that took them almost two thousand years to get over.
Originally, there was a group within Jerusalem who planned to antagonize the Romans until such time as a series of agreements could be reached, allowing the war to end, and the return of the region to the Empire with stipulations, which amounted to an accurate accounting of the money. Hey, they were Jews. However, as luck would have it, a small band of hot heads seized control and formed their own little power mad group of which Josephus related, “The barbarity of the tyrants toward the people of their own nation. . . “ sound familiar?
While Titus delayed, due to his concern for the innocents within the walls, eventually he took the city, crucified every man, woman, dog and cat within, lit up the Temple, and had a bar b que. He tore down the temple, all but that wall they still cry on, and when he was done I took the Jews one thousand, eight hundred, and seventy seven years to come back, because they weren’t quite sure them bad S.O.B.s were gone!
The one wrench in our modern predicament is that ISIS is so rag tag, so diverse, that even if we hit them with nuclear bombs, one might get away, and we’ll have the same problem again and again. Now, the next part is pure conjecture on my part. Enter Flavius Josephus. If you’ll note he has the same family name as Titus, and Vespasian. That’s ‘cause they adopted him as their pet Jew. He also spoke, and wrote Hebrew, Greek, and God knows what else. How do you beat religious nuts? You subvert their religion from within. You take a little known itinerant Rabbi, a view oral traditions, mix in some Torah, and voila, there you have it! While making sure you record statements like, “Sell your coat and buy a sword,” you also make sure that “Render unto Caesar,” is there too. Persecutions aside, this group flourished, and was too busy breaking bread to ever go against the Empire again. Add about a three hundred year love/hate relationship between Rome and them, on May 20, 325, all parties met at Nicaea and formed Pax Romana. . . my bad, the Catholic Church.  
 

Sunday, November 29, 2015

Babies Can't Shoot Back

Ok, ring the bell, school’s in. Any liberals out there need to just go have a joint with their transgender friend because I’m about to go all “Texan” here. Robert Dear, Colorado Springs. Yeah, I’m gonna go there. On the surface, mass shooting, lots of media, maybe even that girl crying on the phone that we’ve all seen more than Shirley Temple, and Obama looking, yet again for a lost son in the mix. Hmmm, I wonder if he had a son if he’d look like Robert Dear? I digress.
Facts of the incident: Man who looked a little crazy comes on the scene and starts shooting. Kills three, including a police officer, wounds nine, I believe, and cops take him down after a shouting match. Still trying to get my mind around that one, but it’s Colorado so go figure. The main stream media scrambled to find Dear’s political affiliation, and I think the jury’s still out on that. This guy lived out in the east in some kind of cabin with no toilette or internet, then came to Colorado to do the exact same thing, and found a chick to live with him! Runs around spouting anti-Obama stuff, and handing out leaflets. The police are looking for a motive. You think?
Before anyone gets all bent, this guy is a straight up nut. Only a nut goes and shoots strangers, but let’s peel the onion, shall we. Look at the onion he peeled. Planned Parenthood. You know, those nice folks who like to sell baby parts to the highest bidder. Yeah, them guys. It really throws a monkey wrench in the gears when someone spills blood on the floor of an abortion clinic, now doesn’t it? How offended would you be if body parts were “harvested” from the three casualties in Colorado Springs? That made you mad, didn’t it?  
Of course, Planned Parenthood harped on “women’s health,” but what about unborn health? It’s the usual debate about when life begins, and that’s always a bit fuzzy, but the clinics sure know how to end it, and they know how to keep the “fetus” viable if it be female until they can “harvest” the eggs in the ovaries (ya’ll didn’t know that, did you?) transplanting them to Lesbian couples wishing to raise another little Bruce Gender. Is that enough abominations in one sentence for you?
Some people out there take infanticide very seriously, and I am sorry that they don’t look like Justin Bieber.  You can explain, analyze, debate, and cover up, but some guys just separate the sheep from the goats, and call a spade a spade. And I’m not even going to get politically correct at all here. We see the usual steam of politicians extending condolences to the families of the victims, well, how many condolences were sent out for the babies slaughtered the day before? Oh, my bad, that was business as usual.
This event has all the elements. Abortion, gun control, crazy-eyed hillbillies, the girl on the phone, it’s classic. But, you simply must look at the motivating factor. Did Dear change a thing? No, he didn’t. I am not getting PC here, but I will say that the fundamental flaw is legislation. As Tea Party people we simply must change the playing field. We must stop the murder of the innocents. America will never pay for the sin of all the murdered little fellas who were “harvested” while we sat on the porch theorized. We will never wash all of their blood from our hands. But one fact remains. Babies can’t shoot back!
 

Saturday, November 28, 2015

He's Alive!

 
James Randi launched into a video where he delved into the town of Nazareth. Beginning by saying the town was not mentioned at all in the Old Testament, or any of extensive rabbinical literature. He does note that there is a water well there, and lets everyone know that it’s called “Mary’s Well.” Mr. Randi leans very heavily on a book titled The Myth of Nazareth by one Rene Salm.  Salm’s theory is that the town wasn’t even settled until after the Jewish War of around 70 CE. There was a rebuttal to the book, which Randi minimizes, and then he goes on to poke fun at the tourist industry that has sprung up in the modern town situated there.
Randi does point out the enthusiasm of Christian Archeologists coming to the area, trying to substantiate the story of Jesus, and obvious amateur mistakes they make. It is a sad fact that when religious sites turn into tourist sites things tend to get a bit confused. Take Jerusalem for instance. Constantine’s mother, Helena, went there some three hundred years after Christ, and got exactly what gringo tourists get in Mexico. For the folks out there who’ve never done that, if you go to Mexico trying to find anything, the population will gladly lead you in circles, and convince you of anything you want to believe. Well, Helena came to Jerusalem with her purse in her hand, and the inhabitants thereof took her on a carnival ride of myth and legend that had absolutely nothing to do with fact. They’d tell her Jesus ate here, Jesus talked there, and she’d squat and pray, and the location became carved in stone, literally. Prime example is the Via Delorosa. While Helena squatted at every junction of the walk Jesus took to the Golgotha, it is generally agreed that the natives simply told her whatever it was she wanted to hear. The current path has little to do with reality, but that doesn’t mean Jesus didn’t take the walk, and the little tour for the faithful on Good Friday is spiritually fulfilling, I’m sure.
Randi makes a point that the Church situated where Mary supposedly met the gynecologist angel, Gabriel, I believe, who confirmed her pregnancy, actually sits right on top of a bunch of tombs, which means that the location had to be outside of town because Jews get really bent about those things. He says these tombs are all post Jesus, and reminds us that poor towns tend to make a little coin promoting religious sites. (This is my surprised face.)
Ok, here’s my spin. Now I’m a writer, right? I can spin a yarn, trust me, I have enough ex-wives to testify to that. If I were to be writing a Gospel, sometime in the first century about a man who tooled around and made a name for himself, I don’t believe I’d make up a town that didn’t exist. I mean, Jerusalem is real, Bethlehem is real, the Sea of Galilee is real, why snatch some fictitious town out of the air? Also, consider this; Nazareth was a stumbling block for the Gospel writers. They had to have Jesus born in Bethlehem, because that’s what the prophets said. So, it only goes to follow, if it were common knowledge that Jesus came out of Nazareth, then that would explain the entire “tax” thing, getting Mary down there to have the baby, and then back to where everyone knew she really lived in order to validate Jesus’ credentials to the Jews.  So, Randi can rattle on, Nazareth existed, and He’s alive!