Saturday, October 31, 2015

Kid From Simmonsville

Somewhere there’s some old black men
‘Round an iron stove, drinking beer
Talking ‘bout places that they have been
A long, long way from here
And every line in their worried brow
Shows a lifetime of being used
Every inch in every mile
Between a love song and the blues.
 
It is very important to never forget where you come from. All the events and forces, both internal, and external that made you what you are make up the structure of your life, spirit, mind and understanding. When you deny these things you deny self, and when you deny self you have nothing left. Going home will surprise you. The very things you fought so hard to get away from welcome you with open arms, and you wonder why you ever left in the first place.
The ambition of every kid from Simmonsville was to get out of Simmonsville. The little hamlet in Central Texas was a hodge podge of blacks, Mexicans, and poor white trash, myself being the latter. We didn’t know we were poor white trash, we thought we had it going on. Never mind the fact that none of us had ever seen a color TV, and our shoes smelled bad, we had an equal chance to be president someday. We were delusional.
I kissed my first girl in Simmonsville. Pam Burns. She was a short blonde with a red coat and a booger in her nose. I crappith thee not! When I smacked her I saw it. Still, it was a learning experience. If you were from Simmonsville you had to date girls from Simmonsville. That’s ‘cause you had no money and only girls like that would forgive. They’d be happy with a forty-five cent burger from Burger Chef, and didn’t mind riding in the trunk to get into the drive in movie.
Everybody’s dad had a job in construction, and they were all drunks. That just went with the territory. Back in those days a six-pack was a very big deal. Whiskey was sold by the half pint, and the beer was terrible. Boys always drink the beer their dad drank, and our dads all drank some rank stuff. The beer they drank is long gone because there are laws now. The plan of action was to get girls like Pam Burns drunk. It never worked out. Never try to get a white trash Texas girl drunk. She’ll go from flirt to fight in sixty seconds and doesn’t mind walking home from the movie, whereupon her dad comes looking for you. Forget all that nonsense about assault on a minor, RUN!
If you got lucky you had to get married. Just the way it was. If you got married your life was sealed. Oh, it’s great for about the first week, and then the realization of your social status comes home and there you sit with a girl who has a booger in her nose, only now she’s pregnant. Time and tears go by and one day you are sitting in your truck, out in the yard (no driveways folks) drinking the same beer your dad did, and you begin to understand!
I never married a girl from Simmonsville. I had a habit of marrying Yankees. Been through six or so. In Texas you are allowed to marry up to seven times. I have one more tag left on my “Dear” license, better make the last a good one! Went back to Simmonsville some time ago. It was cold, and I ended up in one of those abode huts that still dot around here and there. There were a bunch of guys there, and they had this old potbellied stove. They had cut up come two by fours, and were feeding them into the stove, passing a bottle around, and of course, there was beer. It was like I never left. New York, L. A. and Austin never happened, and I was just “Billy.” They weren’t impressed by anything I’d written, but they did like some of the dirty songs I’d recorded thirty years ago. I left, got in my Mercedes, and drove away. As I pulled out onto the highway I looked back. I wondered, “Who am I?” Why, in spite of it all, I’m really just a kid from Simmonsville.
 

Monday, October 26, 2015

Get a President This Time

 
 The Republican Party has long since moved away from any kind of representation of its constituents into full blown hypocrisy.  There was a time when a dynamic personality would come along and take the populace by storm, and the party would leap to the task. Did someone say, “Eisenhower?” Everyone knew he was going to be president, all they had to do was wait for the election to make it official. Reagan too! So now we have Donald Trump. What amazes me is all the losers in the party who have so much to say about what he says, yet have nothing to say about what they think would be a better idea. The Tea Party came about just to get away from idiots like that.
Let’s look at this. Trump doesn’t want illegal aliens here. Jeb Bush is worried about offending illegal aliens. We know he likes aliens. Did someone say nineteen hijackers? Now, I realize Jeb is from Florida, with Miami being the largest city in Cuba, but do we let illegals vote? I mean when did they get a voice? The party brass responds in concert about how Trump’s ideas won’t work as thousands upon thousands of people flock to his speeches. In contrast the Democrats all rally around Hillary, as she washes the blood from her hands, and shove a two by four up her butt to keep her standing up.
I voted Republican because I believe in family values. I don’t give a flip about gay marriage, I just want the CPS to quit stealing and selling our kids to pedophiles. Forget Planned Parenthood, defund the CPS. They steal so many kids they can’t find software powerful enough to keep up with them all. Family values is what attracts me to Trump. The vain hope that the country just may get stronger, mom’s apple pie will be back in the window sill, and Bruce Gender will not be the woman of the year.
Then, of course, there’s the specter of Mitt Romney. Now, I’m going to be blunt here so you might as well get your crying towels out! Way back in California, in the desert, with a bottle of Jim Beam, I told you people why Romney would never win. He’s a Mormon. Swat them bees, swat them bees. Three things worked against him. First, of course, being a Mormon. For all the spin they are still the polygamous cult out in the desert that sends people to your door. Second, being a Mormon, he was squeaky clean. That’s not human. Trump, by contrast, is not that clean. He marries beautiful foreign girls, has a drop dead gorgeous daughter and makes tons of money. Third, my mother told me that it was almost impossible to unseat a sitting president. Obama is bad, yes, but he’d been in office for four years and Americans just don’t like to change horses in mid-stream.  The Republicans had to runsomebody so they picked a guy that would look good giving a concession speech.
Well, the landscape has changed. Obama is going to retire. The hope of the Democrats is a woman with more scandals than Mylie Cyrus, and Trump is taking the country by storm. The perfect storm. So why the party brass can’t just shut up and let this pony run? Because (now pay attention) we really have a one party system, that’s why. They get together and run a Mormon against a seated president and stood back snake amazed when Obama played basketball with his head. It was always in the cards, folks. Supposed to happen that way. Trump, on the other hand, is a spoiler. He doesn’t owe the brass or any special interest groups a cent, has his own ideas, even his own plane. What we’ll have is Teddy Roosevelt on steroids in the White House, if he even moves in. Someone who, when facing the Chinese at negotiation tables, will be the same New York real estate broker who’s been screwing them for years.
Right now the Republican Party is wearing out political favors to ruin Trump. And forget Ben Carson. After Obama, I don’t think any of us alive now will live to see another black president, and that’s sad because Carson is a good man. He’s going to make a fine surgeon general. Col West will make a great Atty General, and Cruz will round out the team as vice president. All spoilers! What the Republican Party wants is to run something like Bush, or Rubio so that Hillary will be a shoe in. That way the dynasty continues, and the game remains the same. We don’t need that. Let’s just get a president this time.  
 
 
Simple Ol' Boy From Austin

Sunday, October 25, 2015

Crazy Old Man on Laurel Street

                          Religion is man’s feeble attempt to explain the unexplainable.
I hammer this nail over and over again. When I was four years old my grandmother took me to the Baptist church on Laurel Street in Shreveport, Louisiana. I’d sit in the pew and the preacher would scream at me, saying that I was hell bound. I’d try my best to crawl through the pew to get away from God’s wrath, even though I couldn’t see God. I didn’t have to see Him. The man screaming was enough, and I reasoned in my little head that if this guy was that mad at me how much madder could God be since this fellow was only an employee.
My grandmother bought into all of this. She wasn’t evil, she was a Louisiana grandmother, and that’s what you did to your grandkids back then to set them on the right path. If you’ll note I didn’t say my mother was with us, and most certainly my dad wasn’t. I would only learn after his death that dad had been very religious in his younger life, with people telling me he would often come walking through the pines singing gospel songs. That is until his little Baptist girlfriend turned out to be a whore. He walked away. He never talked against religion, he just didn’t buy into it. My mother, on the other hand, was a member of a street band for the Salvation Army. She went from Shreveport to the east coast playing her clarinet and collecting money in a bucket. After granny scared the hell completely out of me, I’d come home and mom would set me straight.
My mother belonged to something I called the First Church of the Human Brain. She believed that the Jews completely screwed up the Old Testament, and Jesus came down and put everything back on track. There were no Adam and Eve, the Red Sea never got parted, pork chops were just fine, and don’t listen to that fool down at the First Baptist Church on Laurel Street. She did feed me catfish on Friday, but we were Cajuns, and Cajuns do that stuff anyway.
After my accident that blessed me with my limp, and a terrible marriage to my first ex-wife, I went down to the Memorial Baptist Church in Killeen, Texas and got saved. Now, I didn’t understand a word in the Bible, couldn’t even recite the Lord’s Prayer, but I was saved! Didn’t save my marriage, however. My wife took off with her sister’s husband. The last time I saw her car at Fort Hood, I noticed a white Bible on the passenger’s seat in the front. I took comfort in that.
Time, tears and ex-wives went by, and I finally settled on a woman I couldn’t run off. She had two boys, and I had two boys. She insisted that we go to Memorial Baptist, and we did. For some reason she put a lot of stock in Rosaries, and by and by I met Father Ev. Father Ev was All American, Notre Dame 1954 and had almost exactly the same views my mother had. I was confirmed on December 26, 2008 at St. Joseph’s Catholic Church down on Rancier Ave, Killeen, Texas.
Brothers and sisters, I was a Hail Mary Catholic. I was a defender of the faith, and would argue tooth and nail with anyone who dared to challenge me. I wrote a book! In “Sharon” I intended to expound the towering theology of Catholicism and its dominance over all other faiths. Didn’t end up that way. Mom’s ghost and Father Ev’s conversations kept coming to me, and that led to the closing scene of the book. In the book a Bible beating revivalist preacher meets a girl, Sharon, who exposes her beliefs to him in a series of five meetings, under a tree beside a church. I intended these meetings to be a huge revelation of the truths of the Catholic Church. The only problem was that Sharon wasn’t talking to the preacher she was talking to me!
In the end of the book, as the preacher lay dying, she comes to him one last time. When he tells her that he still doesn’t understand, she responds with, “The Greeks called me ‘Sophia.’ The Rabbis know me as ‘Shekinah.’ Ibn al Arabi met me during his circumambulations around the Kaaba, and he called me ‘Nizam.’ I whispered into Solomon’s ear when no one else could hear, and I’m the one who knelt before that angel in that little room in Nazareth. For I am the Wisdom of God, and anyone who seeks me with a pure, and diligent heart, may hold me in their arms.”
I have no idea where that statement came from and it only took me twenty years to understand it myself. I began to have questions. I have been called an atheist, but that’s not true. I believe in God. I just don’t believe in man! When man takes quill in hand and tries to reduce God to the pages of a book it never works. If you will note, Jesus didn’t write anything. He spoke! Only centuries later did men take it upon themselves to write those words, and by then the words were shrouded in opinion. Same thing happened to Mohammed. Man couldn’t write a grocery list, but there were enough fools around after his death to codify his desert ramblings for posterity. Joseph Smith could write, and write he did. Got himself blasted out of a window in a county jail by other devout believers with their ownbook of rules.
If you insult Mormonism you get an argument. If you draw a picture of Mohammed you get your head cut off, and if you insult Born Agains they show up at your funeral and call you a queer. Christians can be obnoxious, but Islam is crazy. Yeah, I just said that. Wanna know why? Because Arabs have not evolved to the same point as Western Culture that’s why. Racist enough for ya? Day after day I see ISIS coming up with new and inventive ways to kill infidels. I’ve seen so many I have begun to critique style. From simple beheadings to suspending the elect about a fire and slow roasting them into eternity, ISIS is the master at human misery. The end product of man putting words in God’s mouth! The only difference between them and that crazy old bastard at the Baptist Church down on Laurel Street in the fact that we in the west have developed a frontal lobe, something Muslims simply do not have!
Wanna irritate a Muslim? Just say the name Aisha. She was Mohammed’s little five year old child bride. Now, I’m not getting jellyfish about this. Marrying a five year old is a little left of center, but folks, let’s admit it, all Arabs are left of center, ok? They don’t play with the same cards as the rest of us, and they certainly don’t play with a full deck. To be honest with you, little Aisha was probably the only Arab in history who had a frontal lobe and she proved it by advising and leading the Muslims to the compiling of the Qu’ran. Do I approved of marrying a girl in diapers? Of course not. Do I consider the society that allows this sort of thing? You betcha!
When people try to explain what they do crazy things where marriage is concerned It gets well, crazy! Actually, I fully understand political “marriages” between tribes of Neanderthals trying to weld a connection that will stop continual fighting. Arranged marriages between royalties happened, also. Do I understand a wedding night with Shirley Temple on the Good Ship Lolly Pop? Uh, I’m from Texas. We hang those people down here. I am a product of my culture.
I don’t try to make fun of little religious traditions. From funny little boxes on foreheads, to holy underwear, to beanies in heads, It’s not what’s on the head, it’s what’s inside it. That fella, Jesus said something about that. Whited tombs, I think. Seems He was always right. Just Him and Rush Limbaugh. If your attire makes it for you, fine. Wanna stone a Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader for looking good in shorts, problemo!
I break down Bibles, Qu’rans, and Books of Mormon like this: If it’s stupid, or mean, then God had nothing to do with it. Man did that. God created man and woman to support and enjoy each other, and make children. Does God hate homosexuals? Why? They’re not making any babies. If you think they’re an abomination then they’re going to hell. Abortion? God creates life. It’s not man’s providence to judge, or destroy. Seems that same guy from Nazareth said that, too. I can never bring myself to say that there is no God. We still can’t make a leaf! As we discover more about the universe we see that something was involved a bit smarter than a man wandering in the desert, a farm boy, or a crazy old man on Laurel Street in Shreveport, Louisiana!
 

Tuesday, October 20, 2015

Aces and 8's

c I’m going to venture off into gun control again this morning. The argument for self-defense is so logical that it defies said logic that anyone would present a case against it. Yet the left is forever after our rights. I believe that people on the left simply must have some “cause” to justify their existence. There is a group called the “Flat Earth Society.” I crappith thee not, look it up! They expound the idea that the earth really is flat, and it is a huge government conspiracy trying to convince us otherwise. These are the same guys and gals who want legal pot, so I suppose there’s something there. Anyway, the very idea of sitting in a classroom, taking a bullet because some homosexual college dean says so is asinine.
The population has been domesticated down to the point that when the Oregon shooting occurred, and a man charged the shooter, taking around seven bullets, the rest of the class just hunkered down and hoped the gunman would go away! People, it doesn’t work that way. Watch the security cameras from Columbine. There is a type of person where the mind is gone. I don’t buy into all this demon possession crap, but it does give you pause, because they almost all shoot everything in sight, and then, after seeing what they did, shootthemselves!
This is the reason we have the death penalty. All those European countries that shun the death penalty, and now have the problems they have. These girly-men need to do a panties check. These people who select “gun free” zones, and then start popping off victims are not human. What would you do if a rabid dog charged into the room? Maybe if you talk softly, and offer him a treat he’ll just go to the next room, right? Wrong!  Shoot him right in the top of the head. Same with active shooters. How do we stop all these events? Simple. Constitutional carry. Just make it so that when the shooter comes in he knows that most likely he will not leave alive. And don’t be jellyfish about it. Even if he drops his gun and finds Jesus, shoot him anyway! That will stop active shooters.
Are you shocked? Does that upset your sensitivities? Getting shot in the face will disturb you a bit more. Another sample. Getting robbed. Some idiot decides that it’s much easier to rob you at a gas pump rather than getting up in the morning and going to work. He is using oxygen that children in China need. Be a conservationist. Kill him. Nobody will miss him. Well, maybe his mama. You’ll see her on CNN telling everyone how her son was a “gentle giant.” And, of course, the city will give her ten billion dollars which she and her family will spend on crack before the weekend is out.
This is the world we live in. This is the world we’ve always lived in. There have been, and will always be people who will kill, steal, and destroy. There will always be people who say, “No!” You cannot cure the dredge of society by laying down and hoping that human nature will change just because if Obama had a son he’d look like some deranged meth head bent on raping your eight year old daughter. It simply doesn’t work that way. This is why gun control is so illogical. “Gee, I know how to protect the sheep! We’ll pull the sheep dog’s teeth.” How stupid is that? I know I sound like some 1888 gunslinger, but folks, pacification won’t stop mayhem. Wild Bill Hickok stops mayhem!
The prolonged appeal process in death penalty cases is counterproductive. As a Texan, I plainly see that lynching has its place. For some guy who killed an entire family to appeal because he had a bad childhood is to desecrate the dead. These “people” need to understand that society will dispose of them quicker than a dog will chase a cat. Make themdraw to Aces and 8’s!
 

Sunday, October 18, 2015

Quarters in a Cup





I’ve been exposed to Mormon beliefs for a long time. Having been a writer for a while, and, on a Texas, national, and even international scale, I take a more or less detached view of not just LDS, but most organized religion. While I would not challenge anyone’s personal belief set I take two steps back, and cast a jaundiced eye toward McReligion. I also mix in a good old portion of just plain common sense.  Being a Catholic in a former life I understand  that all faiths have certain things peculiar to that particular faith, so I would never challenge my friend Doc Greene in his faith because a one on one relationship with Jesus is never bad.
So why does Mormonism rub me the wrong way? As a secular humanist, why would I get mad listening to them rattle on? Lies and inconsistencies! There is a vast gulf between accepting things on faith, the resurrection, virgin birth, miracles, and such, but when you are confronted with stories that confound common sense, especially when these stories can be blatantly disproved you must question the force behind the belief set. The debate between religions is always the same. My invisible guy in the sky can whip your invisible guy in the sky. Theology is man’s feeble attempt to explain the unexplainable.  When the dots don’t connect I ask why, and when I say ask why I’m asking from a Biblical and psychological standpoint. When you discuss their faith from the Bible Mormons will twist it. When you are a secular humanist, but try to work from a Biblical foundation, and combine this with an understanding of the makeup of the human mind their tactics begin to unravel rapidly and it always ends in a big argument.
I’m a big student of Penn and Teller. The intricacies of magic amaze me. Moreover, the rules of magic are foundational. Look here, don’t look there. People will see what they expect to see. The human brain is conditioned to fill in the blanks to connect events in a normal fashion drawing upon what it has seen before. The biggest rule is that if something mystifies you, then you just don’t understand the trick. Teller has a routine where he drops quarters into a metal bucket. You hear the coins, therefore you see the coins. At one point he removes the glasses from a member of the audience and dumps two quarters into the bucket. I’ve been to Vegas, I’ve seen the quarters. This is impossible! There are no quarters. You hear the sound, and your eyes, and brain fill in the blanks. Mormonism was founded during something called the magical world view. Everybody held to an understanding that there was this unseen world that defied the natural laws of the universe. Angels were everywhere, witches brewed potions that would cure cancer, seduce comely young girls, or bring wealth.  Snake oil salesmen were on every back road, hundreds of offshoots of religion were started and this mindset continued right up until Harry Houdini pulled the plug in the ‘20’s.
People want to believe. People grasp onto anything that makes life a little bit easier. Nobody wants to die, and if they have to they want a friend in court to make it smoother. When a belief set originally designed to achieve these ends suddenly makes life harder it becomes wrong. Good folks go to heaven, ok. Don’t hurt folks and help neighbors, fine. Eat fish on Friday or die, wrong! We’ve all done it. I was a Hail Mary Catholic. Actually the faith didn’t do me any harm, and all my kids are devout. Maybe I can play that card at the Pearly Gates. Because people so want something the door is open to charlatans and flim flam men. The more desperate the person, the more they forgive inconsistencies.  Most Christian arguments are over words, not events. From Methodist to Catholic, all accept that Jesus walked on water. Only one hints that He may have had three wives and a flock of kids, and if you draw this admission out it will make a Mormon very upset. Like many of the offbeat ideas this one falls away when you use a little knowledge of history, and logic. Jesus was a Rabbi. Rabbis are expected to be married. If He had been married the Gospels would have just said it. No slander! If Jesus weren’t married, and had an affair with Mary Madeline He would have never been crucified, He’d have been stoned. . . for adultery! With the Temple priests looking for anything to silence this upstart preacher don’t you think they would have seized on that? Perfect solution, and would have discredited Him to the entire population.
You’ll never get this up front from one of them. When challenged with the above logic, they will fall back on a convoluted theology that would perplex a Hippy! This happens in most cases.  Sometimes it really is just the particular one you’re talking to, but most times it is because you’ve stumbled upon something they didn’t want to leak out of the Temple. When you hear the current “Prophet” speak it really is generalizations that expound the basic truths of Christianity, but as you dig deeper you will find that there is an entire sub culture just below the surface, available to only the most worthy, and those secrets are only for the select.
As you may have heard, Mormonism was founded by Joseph Smith, farm boy extraordinaire. Soothsayer, prophet, and author of the Book of Mormon. Of course he claims he didn’t write the book of Mormon, he only transcribed it, or rather someone named Oliver Cowdery did, Joseph having his head buried in his hat glaring at a “seer stone” for inspiration at the time.  This remarkable work was sent to publishers who openly rejected it. Slowly, but surely the origin of the text began to emerge. According to the spin, the words came from a series of golden plates, inscribed with some sort of ancient language. In the box were two stones, that when used could translate the words into, you guessed it, theKing’s English 1611! Supposedly a bunch of disgruntled Jews came to the new world, split into two factions, i.e. Rabbis and Wild Indians, there eventually was this war, and one Moroni wrote the whole story down on gold, buried it, where it remained until young Joseph was led to the site by the same Moroni, who was by then, an Angel!
Save your fork, folks, this gets better. First let’s look at reality. And Mormons, I do apologize, but when I see stupid, or a spin, I just call it like it is. Let’s continue.  Farm kid, no money, one pair of shoes,  digs for buried treasure finds a pot of gold. This is where psychology works in. He didn’t sell it? He found about thirty to sixty pounds of gold and didn’t rush to town with it because he was so overcome with the Holy Ghost?  If you believe that have I got a bridge for you and it’s on sale! If he’d found one gold Double Eagle he’d have ran, not walked, to the nearest bank and cashed it in. Now people, that’s a fact, ok? I don’t care how you slice this cake it is still  tootie fruity. I was a poor kid. If an angel let me to a treasure like that, I would have knocked him in the head and felt real bad all the way to the bank!  Long story short, it never happened. First off, where did so much gold come from?  Across from the Mormon Temple in Utah is a shop, and in that shop is a replica of the “golden tablets” in lead, a metal of comparable weight to gold, and all the Mormon Jocks come over and pick that up! Fact! Prospectors in the California gold rush, after working years, would end up for barely enough gold to fill a tobacco sack. The big money was later in commercial mining, and even then the amount was not all that great. Joseph Smith did not find thirty to sixty pounds of gold. This was a spin to explain the dubious source of the Book of Mormon.
The language on these plates was “Reformed Egyptian.” Two problems. These people wereorthodox Jews. Orthodox Jews don’t write anything in Egyptian. Did someone say, “Passover?” Jews believe Hebrew is the language given them by God, and Egyptian is the language of slaves. But Joseph was so good at this translation stuff that he later purchased a scroll from a traveling snake oil salesman, proclaimed it to be the “Book of Abraham,” and after long study, translated it, whereupon it still appears in Mormon literature although it has now has been deciphered by scholars as being the burial book or book of the dead of some Egyptian fat cat that has nothing what so ever to do with Abraham, either patriarch or president! Combine that with plain old investigation. Now, these folks landed somewhere in Mexico, but when you try to nail them down on the exact location they get all sketchy and move the landing around considerably, so suffice to say it was somewhere south of San Antonio, Texas. From there they prophesied their way across the south, up the midcontinent, all the way to New York, and didn’t leave even a grocery list written in the same language. When I challenged a Mormon on this he told me the language on the plates was given to Moroni only for said plates and was forbidden to normal man. Yeah, right! And Marie Osmond is a virgin, too! Well, being from a Catholic background I’m cool with perpetual virgins, but I digress. Also, if they were so tangled up with the Indians then how come Geronimo didn’t acquire the ability to write in said code? See how the dots don’t connect, and I haven’t even got theological yet.
So, anyway, due to disappointing book sales, Joseph goes to plan B, which is start a religion. Good gig if you can pull it off, worked for Mohammed. He begins to baptize folks in the Father, Son and Holy Plates, and works his way all the way to some county jail in Illinois where the populace moved the issue, and Holy Joe to a higher court. He was later reincarnated as Hugh Heffner whereupon he found another pot of gold that he translated and named “Playboy” and the rest is history.
Enter the Mormon version of Biggie Small, Brigham Young. Brother Brigham led the children of Mormon into the desert to a salty lake and proclaimed that it was the place. That was not the place, California was the place, but I’m not a prophet, so what do I know? I’m told that they developed a huge salt industry there, and they may have. They dotted settlements and towns all up and down the shoreline of the Great Salt Lake, and did pretty well. The Prophet also married everything hot and holler from a teen age girl to a horse collar, but God told them not to marry so many women at one time and as a result they got statehood. Eventually they evolved into a recognizable religion, but friends and neighbors, they cook the books!
Not one foundational belief follows anything Biblical, and they can dig until blood runs from their upraised palms but they will never find one “seer stone” proving one syllable in the Book of Mormon. I’m not going to bore you with particulars but I’ll give you the foundational flaw in Mormonism. Get your pads out, there will be a test later. The story of heaven, according to them is there was a council in heaven. The Devil, and Jesus (being brothers) both submitted a plan for mankind. Satan said that he would subject with complete, unquestioned discipline and rule, and that the spirits would come to earth, suffer through, and return to “Heavenly Father” none the worse wear. Jesus said free agency was most important and that man should be free to choose his path, later to be judged and admitted or not, to the reward. Well, God voted for Jesus. Now, Mormonism is absolute control of believers. From beer, to haircuts, to women, even coffee. Whose plan are they following? Earth shaking theology from beautiful downtown Austin.
Hitler said that if you repeat a lie often enough that eventually it becomes true. It is true that some things are taken by faith, but even Mohammed wasn’t stupid enough to claim he found gold, and this was very wise of him considering what he had to deal with. There are so many invariable holes in Mormonism it defies logic, but if you ever debate a Mormon you’ll understand. They lay layer upon layer, then resort to lies, then just get mad, and the shouting match begins. If you employ the Bible they fall back on, “As far as it is accurately translated,” and never forget, Joseph was one hell of a translator!
What harm do they do? You have to separate Mormon theology with Mormon culture. What people believe vs what they do are two different things. There’s not much wrong with faith, family, and mom’s apple pie. The problem is the psychology. Since their teaching goes so against human nature eventually a lot of Mormons become disillusioned. There are no real answers in their faith, only Mormon answers, and those answers “evolve.” Black people are suddenly acceptable. Of course they say that blacks always were, they just had to hold back a bit. Uh, the other churches make their bones converting all people to their faith. They also shun polygamy. They DID that. Brother Brigham and his seventy-two virgins. Oh, my bad, wrong religion. But he really did that!  The Muslims still do, and don’t lie about it.  Also, consider the theological answers. The Bible took over a thousand years to write, with many authors. I’m a writer, people, and I’m telling you the Book of Mormon was contrived by Joseph Smith, and that’s cool, just don’t base your life on a Superman comic book.
Eventually Mormonism will fade away. Oh, they’ll cook the numbers. With their baptism of the dead they pick up lots of members. Tried to pick up six million Jews just after WW II. And they put these numbers on the books! Their missionaries bang doors all over the world with a set formula designed to enter more names on the roster, but Mormonism is suffering the same thing all patent leather churches are. Declining membership. Free thinking, non-denominational congregations are surviving, while the “old school” flavors are being weeded out. Most converts do not understand the foundation of Mormonism because they didn’t understand the faith they just left. They hear the sound bites, talk to the missionaries and at the proper time, just watch the quarters drop into the cup.
Simple Ol' Boy From Austin

Friday, October 16, 2015

Columbine's Message to the World

With the advent of the seeming rash of active shooters many solutions have been forwarded in an effort to explain the reasons behind these events. I came upon the security cameras that recorded Columbine and frankly it was an eye opener. I’m not normally set back by stupidity, or violence, and this was no different, but I paid particular attention to what the two boys were saying while they worked their way through the school. In an almost sadistic comedy they taunted the victims as they killed them with no more involvement than playing a video game. As one girl bled out on the floor one of the killers joked, “I’ve fallen, and I can’t get up.”
This lack of sympathy was Columbine’s message to the world, and it’s not a new message, in fact it’s very old, almost from the dawn of humanity. As I have said before we all have a God hole somewhere in our head, or in this case a non-God hole. This trait seeks to make sense of the nonsensical. Basically, the human mind will glom onto almost anything that at least tries to connect the dots. What seems insane to the rest of us makes perfect sense to the adherents of which ever philosophy is employed at the time.
There are rules in life. Sometimes real rules, dealing with real problems, sometimes rules that just connect dots that don’t matter at all. Take for instance three little boys playing some child’s card game. I don’t care which game, any game, but they don’t even have to speak the same language so long as the rules of the game are followed. Ask yourself, does that make it true? Do Masons with secret handshakes, or Boy Scouts winning a merit badge, or two kids killing fellow students, a young Kamikazi pilot crashing his plane into a ship, or Muslim blowing himself and others up make it true in any way?
When everyone around them was dead the two knelt and actually debated if they should count, “One, two, three,” and then blow their brains out, or just “One, two.” That’s no crazier than the young Japanese pilot crashing into an aircraft carrier. Young, unseasoned minds do stupid things. Just imagine how many wars we’d have if it were mandatory that all soldiers had to be sixty years and older.
The solution to Columbine, and other events is not easy, and it’s not a one size fits all either. First and foremost it is mental, and it’s not new. Gun control will not fix this, other than constitutional carry where when this happens there is a better chance for a lower body count. I sure hate to be the one to tell you liberals that, but it’s the truth. When someone chooses to follow this bloody pie in the sky they are beyond help and you must kill them. What all these groups I’ve named above are following is religious fervor. Yes, that’s right. Following a light that no one except them can see, and the closer they get to that light the more blind they become. That’s what makes a healthy young man murder a pretty girl at a high school.
First we must have a fully armed society. Now, if you don’t want to arm yourself, ok, but I’m not going to die with you for your liberal ideas. Just get out of my way, and I’ll upset your little Pollyanna world view.  At the day’s end I’ll be having a beer, and the killer will be having formaldehyde. Second, these people will never go away. What we have to do it make these rampages not so cost effective. The killers knew they would be safe for a while. Why don’t mass killers attack police stations? Cause the cops got guns, that’s why. If teachers had guns they would not have strolled around Columbine as if it were a walk in the park if there was a possibility of death waiting behind the next door.
Third, devoid yourself of sympathy and understanding. People who act like this need to die, and they need to die fast. Don’t feel sorry for them. If they don’t off themselves the police need to summarily execute them before CNN arrives so all the conspiracy people can puzzle over it for years. But, remember, these people have always been out there, and will always be out there. Don’t throw your hoe away just because you’re mad at the potatoes. Don’t throw your guns away just because some nut comes into your classroom. I will never forget the sound of that young girl begging for her life. If I’d had a clear shot at that punk it wouldn’t have been a head shot. It would have been a little lower, between his legs because I’d want him to scream for the rest of his short, miserable life. But, I’m just a Simple Ol’ Boy From Austin so what do I know?
 

Wednesday, October 14, 2015

He Lived!

It was a cold Saturday morning when I got the call from Pat. “Don’t go to the store today, come out to the ranch.” Pat had a party ranch just south of town, with horses, hogs, a big corral and a full bar. Although he would entertain at his place in town, indeed one of the three clubs he had, he preferred to have guests meet him at the ranch. The people he associated with liked the privacy. This particular day Pat had a family tragedy. His son in law had slipped at his job in a candle factory and fell into a vat of boiling wax.
“Netta’s all upset,” he said, “We’ve got her at the house, under sedation. The boy don’t look good.” So, me and my brother drove out to the ranch. We made sure the bar was serviced, the horses ready for the little girls, and hosed the hogs down. Soon concerned friends and family began to show. Pat had an awning set up near the horses with a table under it and one by one the guests expressed their sympathy for the unfortunate event.
Netta and her husband had a rocky marriage. Money was tight, and tempers flew, sometimes there were physical events and she’d run home for the weekend, whereupon her husband would follow, have a family meeting and all would be resolved, until next time. Lately the boy had been putting his nose to the grindstone and trying to climb out of the financial hole. He was forbidden to work for Pat, but strings were pulled and the candle factory was indeed a good lick.
All through the day, and into the night friends came out to the ranch to stand by Pat. Some were ladies, and more than a few children, but more than a few wore cheap suits and looked like someone had mismatched their nose in a botched plastic surgery attempt. As midnight drew near my brother and I drove Pat in his Cadillac back to his main house. He invited us in and made drinks in the little bar room he had set up. Then a call came, and we braced for the worse.
“Hello, yeah, you’re sure? No, I’m ok. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
As Pat hung up he had this look on his face, as if he was trying to absorb it all. I asked him if there was anything I could do. He took a drink, looked at us and said, “He lived! Five full minutes in boiling wax and he lived.” Daddy’s little girl is always daddy’s little girl.  
 

Tuesday, October 13, 2015

Give Putin a Tank Of Gas

Interesting times these days, but when you boil it all down it’s quite simple, actually, and there’s a sugar cookie here, too. The Middle East is a very big deal these days. The whole world is focused on it. That area is supposed to be the “cradle of civilization.” Ok, boys and girls, if you believe that have I got a bridge for you, and it’s on sale. Back in the day when I was growing up in Simmonsville the one ambition we all had was to make enough whiskey, or steal enough cars to get out of Simmonsville, and we had no plans to go back there. For all you Christians, Muslims, Jews, and assorted other denominations, the Middle East is a sewer. You may swat them bees now.
The big thing is to get a home for the Palestinians. School’s in, ring the bell. Muslims, you have a whole blankity blank desert to live in. Stop worrying about a strip of desert what ain’t got no oil. And the American reasoning is an oxymoron. “The Jews have a right to that land because God gave it to them and they were there four thousand years ago.” Go tell the Comanche. The Americans have forever been getting into other people’s business. They got in our business down here in 1861. You want to see how much they meddle? Just look at a world map with the locations of all the American military bases on it. “Oh, Wilbur, we need that for the security of the nation.” We can’t secure ISIS!
So, Putin jumps in and puts ISIS mostly out of business in about three days. I know, I know, there are those who’ll say it’s all smoke and mirrors, well I’ve been looking at all the reports and there’s a lot more smoke than mirrors. Let me tell you why Obama is so hell bent to get the leader of Syria out. See, there was this pipeline that was gonna run all the way from Mecca to Berlin or someplace. Now that’s all cool, but there was gonna be this valve on it and the Saudis had that valve. Same as it ever was. In one twist of that valve the Saudis (OPEC) could put a strangle hold on Europe. One guy said, “No,” and the whole thing blew up. That guy was the president of Syria. Sounds like we need a little freedom over there, huh. Check it out; we freed Afghanistan, Iraq, Libya, Egypt, and we’re trying to free Iran. Why shucks, why don’t we just free Jordan, the Kurds, and all the rest? How do we do that? Why we fund a bunch of religious nuts and let ‘em run around cutting heads off by the bushel basket, that’s how. And what is ISIS really working on? OIL. That’s right, friend and neighbors, all them fellers with the fire of Allah in their eyes are just a bunch of gangsters selling to the highest bidder. Gosh, ya’ll thought it was God, huh?
Over a year ago I laid out a scenario explaining just how the Republic of Texas was going to come to be. It wasn’t as dramatic as some others, but it had its merits. It went like this; we don’t have to secede. As America self-destructs Texas will become a republic by default. While the world rushes to WWIII, Texas sits on more oil than all the other countries combined except Russia. That, and cattle, cotton, tech, and all the Mexicans. Do the Americans think we’re just gonna close up shop because they screwed the pooch? Texas is the only state that can be a republic. When it all comes down we will be selling gas and computers to every Kraut in Berlin.  We’ll ship so much beef to Europe they’ll all have coronary heart disease and Stetson will have to open a plant in Moscow.
My advice to the Americans is just leave it alone. If they want to have WWIII just let ‘em have it. They had WWI and WWII, let ‘em work this one out by themselves. Texas has no intention of fighting someone else’s fight. I personally don’t give a flip about Israel or Palestine or Iran. I’m a racist old bastard, and I like it that way.  I care about the hearts and minds of the kids at UT. I care about securing our border, ending people doing ninety-nine years for one joint, and speaking of joints, I get mad when California can grow and sell something that Texas can do better! We will take the lead in this, and Texas will be a republic. Then we’ll give Putin a tank of gas and a brisket sandwich and everything’s gonna be just fine.
 

Monday, October 12, 2015

Car 54 Where Are You?

Gyasi Hughes has now gone down in the history book for being the latest citizen who was served and protected. It seems that another student in Round Rock had “liberated” Hughes football googles, and when the sophomore went to retrieve them a fist fight ensued.       Wow! Never saw that coming. Lord knows I never saw a fight back in Killeen High School in my day. Anyway, here comes Tootie and Muldoon to assess the situation. They talk to the kid, he picks up his backpack, and one of the officers reaches to hold his arm, whereupon the student touches the officer’s arm, and, well, you know the rest. Kid’s lucky to be alive! They grab him by the throat, knock his glasses off (that’s right, glasses) and pin him to the floor.
Now, I’ve heard all the stuff about the danger of being a cop, and as you know I support law enforcement, but c’mon! Fourteen year old kid, folks. Officers claim they were trying to “calm him down.” He was the victim, idiot! Here we are again with this “training,” vs “common sense.” I do understand that a fourteen year old black kid with glasses and a back pack is intimidating, but frankly his body count was quite low that day. As a matter of fact, in all respect, the kid looked goofy. Class nerd kinda guy. Even his glasses weren’t cool.
Of course the Round Rock Police Dept. in concert with the sheriff, the school, the garbage man and all the teachers will do a most excellent job of CYA (they expelled the kid.) I can’t even find the names of the cops so I’ll just call them Twiddle Dum, and Twiddle Dee. My question to you is what would have happened if these two jelly rolls came up on a real butt whipping? Some kid who is a linebacker and threw one of them across the hall?  Oh, my bad, they would have killed him. We’re lucky Hughes stopped resisting, but then, that’s what you do when you get your glasses knocked off and your face pushed into a concrete floor. Kinda takes the romance out of the whole thing.
Not all cops are bad, and we can’t judge the whole barrel by one bad apple. You ever open a barrel of apples with one bad one in it? What you have is one percent of the cops are bad and the other ninety-nine percent are covering up for him. And there’s nothing we can do about it. Tell me, when a patrol car pulls up behind you do you feel protected and served, or do you try to not look at them and keep your hands on the wheel in plain sight? Car 54 where are you? Right behind you there is a pistol, a shotgun, a tazer, two knives, handcuffs and a jelly donut. Oh, I’m sorry, two donuts, these guys run in packs. Poor Hughes. He should have just brought a clock to school.
 
 

Sunday, October 11, 2015

Putin is a Texan!

I just saw a picture of a little girl being actioned off as a sex slave by ISIS. If this picture doesn’t make you mad you need to be on medication. A darling little girl being auctioned off as a sex slave. This is Islam! Can’t candy coat it, can’t rationalize it, can’t cite the Qu’ran, this is perversion at its purest. I trimmed the lower picture but it was good. The Russians dumped this garbage in a pickup, naked, except for his thong, that’s right, thong, with his head bent backwards.
                It doesn’t matter who invented ISIS. It doesn’t matter if it was a CIA ploy, a funded group against the president of Syria, or just a street gang gone wild. Putin finally called “Foul” and started cleaning up the area, and, as you can see, our friend here wound up looking like he got caught in San Saba, Texas monkeying with a little girl. Putin is a Texan!
                Common decency is not negotiable. Communist or capitalist, a little girl is a little girl. A crying little girl about to be raped is an abomination, and if your “Holy” book condones this then you’re praying to the freaking DEVIL! The world has had enough. All my liberal friends like to use the term “Wild Wild West.” Well, when someone did this in the Wild West the posse showed up and hung them in the street for all the people to see.  It was as simple as that!
                And he’s smiling! He’s proud of what he’s doing. No compassion, no feeling, just an animal who has learned to talk, that’s all. I will never forget this child’s face. My passion is saving children from the CPS. I’ve seen so much abuse that I have a blind hatred for that department. For me to look in this little angel’s face makes me raging mad. It makes me want to march every Arab on the planet into a gas chamber and turn on the gas. There is no excuse for this.
                And look at the White House. Politicizing. That’s the talking point this week. Obama talks the politics of situations like this. I wonder how he’d talk if that was Malia crying in that picture? Would he say the morning call to prayer for Islam is the most beautiful sound he ever heard? Or would he drop a nuke right in the middle of them? Of course everybody is all worried about WWIII. People, we need WWIII! All civilized nations against the Middle East. Be done with it! Forget about the end of the world and make it the end of their world!
                My message to all the folks out there so proud of their vote for Obama; while you’re cashing in your food stamps for crack, and calling your dealer on your Obama Phone, take a look at this little girl. All she wanted was mommy, and to grow up. This is wrong, folks. This is just plain wrong!