Teach The Angels How To Fly

“We’re gonna teach the angels how to fly.” So uttered June Montgomery one second before she died in a car crash at the end of the book, “CigarBox.” There was some literary license taken in that book. Through all the edits over the years, the final version is vastly different from the first draft, but there is a back story within the pages that has remained constant, and a central character who was a real person, silently growing up in the shadow of events swirling around him.  The truth behind CigarBox boiled down to a simple ring, and a little boy who never forgot.

In the late nineties a young woman, her three-year-old son, and two girlfriends were racing across Jonesboro, Arkansas to a Christmas party. They apparently ran through a stop sign, crossing into the path of an SUV, which slammed into the side of their small car, killing the mother, one of her friends, and pitching the baby out through a side window, skidding him across the highway, bouncing him off a chain link fence, finally depositing in a field with two broken legs. The car spun and objects within it flew out into the road. One particular object was a cigar box, resting on the seat. Inside were pictures, letters, and then there was a ring. The first responders gathered up as much as they could, removed the dead, and the cigar box.

    His parents were divorced. His father was staying with us in Texas. It was a bitter divorce; with all the frills you’d expect on “Dallas.” We got the call at noon, during Christmas dinner. The information was confused, and we were sure little Michael was dead, as was his mother. I stayed back in Texas to maintain the house, but everyone else rushed to Arkansas. When they got there the doctors told them that the baby, while being scraped up a bit, and with two broken legs, was going to be fine. There was no logical explanation as to how he got out of the car during the impact. The doctors said he just flew across that highway like Mighty Mouse. The baby became known as "Mighty." Mighty came home to Texas, as did the cigar box.

    Mighty's dad became a police officer. He tried to join the Marines, but a bad ear kept him out. Later he would go to the Middle East to fight terrorists as a private contractor. He could hear terrorists just fine with his right ear. We raised Mighty in the big house at Berry Creek. He walked slightly bow legged, due to his injuries, and he loved to eat. In later years it was hard to get that boy up for school, and if you didn't stay right on him he'd miss that bus every time. On the shelf of the study sat the cigar box.

    Our family was Catholic. In the second year of my marriage to Mighty's grandmother I had become Catholic. I wanted the four boys we were raising to have a good moral structure, and I found that attending Mass provided for that need. My boys fell right into the flow of the church. They had Father Everette, and all the people there, and Sunday was actually fun. My wife was divorced from Mighty’s grandfather in Arkansas, and the family was filled with hate. I had two boys, and she had two, and there was much animosity between them, animosity that remains until this day, but Mighty didn’t know about all that.

   

Years and tears went by, my wife’s son Bobby died, my son Timmy turned to drugs and went to prison, Wilbur did well in the Navy, but he lived in California so we rarely saw him, and Michael went over to Afghanistan to find Bin Laden. A girl named Jackie came and went, and there were five new little guys, but in spite of Jackie’s story there was another one, one we didn’t talk about, and on the shelf, in the study, was the cigar box. And so it came to pass, between my wife's heart attack, and Jackie's legal problems the family was torn apart. The house in Berry Creek was reduced to “empty chairs.” But, Little Mighty grew.

    We hardly noticed little Mighty quietly growing up, not attracting much attention to himself. He loved to run up to the Country Club where there was a concession stand that served burgers outside, and Mighty had an open account. I had been very strong in my faith, but after all that happened I fell away. I still believed in God, but all the trappings of the Church were not as important to me anymore. I never questioned what had happened, I just adjusted and went on. I grew very used to being alone. Women can have emotional problems, men are not afforded that luxury.

    Mighty eventually moved into his father's new house about sixty miles away. While his dad worked his job overseas, he lived with his dad's girlfriend. I don’t know her, but I understand the anger of the years has rested on he Her now, so the animosity lives on. Mighty began to go to the Church. Then, quietly, he began to take his classes. Then, he brought the family together to witness his confirmation. They all stopped and watched as Mighty made his mark on the family.  During that ceremony, he showed my now ex-wife a ring. I wasn't there. I’m very distant from the family now, and haven't been to church in years. The hate finally won, and my thirty years of marriage dissolved like cotton candy.  The ring he showed her was a simple thing. A little silver thing with a cross on it. He told her, "Grandpa gave me this when I was a little boy. I saved it for this day." Then, he slipped it onto his finger. I didn’t tell him where that ring came from. During the confusion of that awful Christmas I opened the cigar box on my desk. Inside were simple things. A lock of hair, a child’s drawing, and a little silver ring.  I had never seen it before, but I kept it in a desk drawer until the boy was old enough to keep up with it because I suspected that someone else had worn it on that eventful day so long ago in Arkansas.

Mighty recently completed his USMC basic, and went to his assignment with the Corps. On his finger was a little silver ring with a cross on it. A gift from his mother, before she taught the angels how to fly. And, Mighty’s gift to me, from a little boy who never forgot. The cigar box has long ago been lost, but no matter. “June Montgomery” made her mark.

Hot Check to Jesus

When I woke up this morning

And Stared out the window

I could not believe what I had done

I’d wrote a hot check to Jesus

For ten thousand dollars

When my bank account only held thirty-one!

As you know, I don’t get into all this “end of the world” stuff. That having been said, I sat up watching two documentaries last night. The last one was a movie about Flight 93 and it had a profound effect on me. Also, I’d been reading up on the nature of Islam, and 9/11 for about three days, and, of course, I had to weed through all the conspiracy theories. I’m not going to say conspiracy “nuts” because I caught a couple of tidbits that got my attention. One was the analyzation of the second hit on the twin towers and the wing of the plane distinctly goes behind a building that was behind the Trade Center. I understand digital rendering, but I believe there were real planes hitting those buildings simply because there were too many people who were there and saw it. George Bush didn’t fly, buy, or arrange those planes, Islam did, and when I say that I mean all of Islam. Those who weren’t on the planes were standing on the rooftops cheering. That’s ‘cause they hate us folks!

I want to give you what’s called a dichotomy.

di·chot·o·my

dīˈkädəmē/

noun

1.  a division or contrast between two things that are or are represented as being opposed or entirely different.

"a rigid dichotomy between science and mysticism"

synonyms:

contrast, difference, polarity, conflict;

Ask yourself, if El Chapo were to have his way, just what do you suppose he’d do? Would he seek to totally destroy the very culture, and economy that buys his “product?” Now Chapo is evil, ok. I mean, he leaves sacks of heads in the police parking lot, but he doesn’t want to burn down America, or every other country for that matter, and he doesn’t care if you pray to a water melon! Then there is Islam. Islam is kinda like that pretty girl you run across who seems to be everything you’ve ever wanted until you find out she’s got the clap! It came from an ignorant man who could not read. For the record, Jesus could read! The Prophet of Islam drifted along, and when he wasn’t diddling little girls he was babbling some nonsense that he claimed came from an other-worldly source.

I’m gonna get real with you, ok? I do believe in revelations between the Creator and man, but no angel appeared in a cave. Well, maybe appeared in Mohammed’s crazy mind. I mean, people can claim anything. The Prophet, Penn Jillette once told me, “If you are mystified you just don’t understand the trick!” Someone gives you a “cock and bull” story, and the dots just don’t seem to connect, so what to do? Well, if you have the “faith” you ignore the dots and go trucking right on. A warm fuzzy will take you a long way. I’ve read the “Holy Qu’ran” folks, and it’s a “cock and bull “story. I’ve read the Book of Mormon, too, and I don’t believe that either, but at least Joseph Smith knew what a through line was. As a matter of fact, while I’m on that story, look at the way the Book of Mormon is laid out, and then look at the Qu’ran, and you will very easily see what is wrong with the Arab mind. Uh, they’re crazy! The “revelations” track very closely to Mohammed’s life and situation at the time. The whole book sounds like an old Flip Wilson routine. The devil made him do it! Don’t believe me? Just check out the Satanic Verses. Old Mo’ want’s had a wife or two that didn’t follow the party line, so he comes up with “goddesses.” When the brethren questioned this he claimed he got his wires crosses and picked up a call from the Devil. Inspiration? There was a scribe who traveled a great distance to work with “the prophet.” During one session the scribe suggested rewording a passage, and Mohammed said, “Yeah, that’s cool. Write that.” I am a realist. I’ve become one over many years, and it has served me well. When Jesus said, “Blessed are the poor,” Matthew didn’t say, “Hey, J. C., better make that ‘Blessed are the underprivileged,” and Christ said, “Yeah, put that in.” And, I’ve been up here with the Mormons for most of a month, but I’m not going to jellyfish. You tell me some kid found eighty-eight pounds of gold and didn’t pawn in and I’m gonna laugh right in your friggin’ face!  

Now that I’ve ticked off the guys who bought my meal in Salt Lake City on Easter, the Mormons follow their book and look at what they do. Knock on your door and ask you to read the book. The Muslims follow their book and what do they do. Kill your fifteen-year-old daughter for wearing lip stick!  Radical Muslims want to kill your daughter. Moderate Muslims want Radical Muslims to kill your daughter. Like the homies in Killeen say, “Whomp! Dey it is!” Western thought is the end product of the evolution of mankind. Now I said Western thought. That includes all things western! The white man, the black white man, and yes, even El Chapo. We see things a certain way, a way that the Oriental mind can never come to grips with. When El Chapo delivers that sack of heads, at least he knows he’s wrong. When those fools boarded the planes of 9/11 they really thought they were going to that big whorehouse in the sky. Swat them bees! Hey! Seventy-two virgins? Give me a break. Know why Jesus wasn’t born in Mecca? ‘Cause they couldn’t find three wise men and a virgin, that’s why!

The picture on this article was something I stumbled across this morning over coffee. I got it from a video someone sent me. At first I laughed it off, but the guy made a profound point. The Greek letters for “666” spell “in the name of Allah” in Arabic. It’s black and white, folks. I’ve done dozens of articles about Revelation, and written a book, Sharon, about universality. I know how words can be twisted over centuries to make them say just about anything you want, and I know the arguments about the “historical” Jesus. The way I see it God gave me a brain for a reason, and it wasn’t to parrot behind some camel driver, or some deranged preacher with a Bible in one hand, and a collection plate in the other, it was to use that brain to explain what God really meant, as far as I understand it, and when I meet Jesus, if I ever do, and He tells me I got it all wrong, I would much rather take a butt whipping from Jesus than a blessing from Mohommed!

Theology is man’s feeble attempt to explain the unexplainable. Theology is the greatest “dot connector” of all time, but the litmus test is if your theology hurts someone then God has nothing to do with it. God gathers, Satan scatters. I can’t count the times some “force” got between me and catastrophe. I’ve recently seen two little boys delivered from the bottom of a swimming pool safe when they should have been dead! I believe in that God. That’s not saying that bad things don’t happen. If you stand up for Jesus he doesn’t have to give you a butt whipping, the world will! It’s called picking up your cross. Hey, I read that in the Bible. (And ya’ll thought I was an old “Reptile Bait” huh?)

I said in the beginning of this article that I don’t buy into the “end of the world” stuff, but I do understand that the Arabs have been assembling for over fourteen hundred years to destroy everything that isn’t what they consider “holy.” We, as civilized men and women cannot tolerate that, and be it, Revelation, Armageddon, or just good ol’ World War III, we have to rid the earth of their shadow. We have to maintain whatever we define as faith, be it Mormon or Methodist, or just the little church on the corner, and not write a “Hot Check to Jesus.”

Texas State of Mind

A Texas state of mind is a powerful thing. It impedes me at times. Sometimes, when I come upon a story it hits me so hard that I have to let it brew for a couple of days before I comment. That’s because the media world is so filled with gay, panty waist, politically correct fools that my initial idea would be too strong for them. Take the story of Father Tom. ISIS works overtime to show their asses. Hey, sometimes you just gotta tell it like it is. First off, I’m a racist. Isn’t that refreshing? A white guy who just comes out with that and tells people who disagree to shove it. I think that most all Arabs are greasy, illiterate, woman hating queers who rape five-year-old l little girls and won’t eat a ham sandwich. That comes from having seen Arabs who are greasy, illiterate woman hating queers who rape five-year-old little girls, and won’t eat a ham sandwich. Then, there are Muslims, and last, but not least, there is ISIS.

Now ISIS isn’t unique. Arabs have had these kinds of idiots for millennia. And, it’s always the same. They find some passage in the “Holy Kolan,” and, no, I didn’t misspell that, that’s how these sand bunnies pronounce it, and take said passage to mean kill everything! On a good day they chop the head off a teenage girl for wearing Levis, and our government call them our “allies.” (We killed Hitler for less, folks.) So, ISIS reached into its bag of tricks and came up with the most offensive thing they could do. Crucify a Catholic Priest on Easter! Like I said, a Texas state of mind is a powerful thing. When I first read this I wanted to kill every Arab on the Planet, their wives, kids, grandkids, dogs, cats, and they guy who washed their car. Hey, that’s just me. I’ve modified my stance. I’m gonna let the guy in the car wash go.

This is what it takes, people! If you turn the other cheek with these jokers, they’ll just cut your head off from the left side. There is a vast gulf between a bunch of Mormons who don’t want you in their temple unless you obey their rules, and a religion that plans the extermination of the human race, including their own people, based on the idiotic ramblings of a pedophile. Now, ya’ll know me, and my views of organized religion. I don’t buy into all this “Satan” crap, but I gotta say, if you show me a philosophy designed to eradicate the entire human race, I’ll show you Satan!

When ISIS hit Texas we killed them. If they come back, we’ll re-kill them. If they keep messing with Texas, you will see the day when a woman in a Burqua shopping at H. E. B. will be refused service. When they crowd the streets you will see people with baseball bats, and yes, guns! Don’t Mess With Texas. I’m a former Catholic. I became a former Catholic when the Pope declared the Bible and Qu’ran of equal status. Islam is not a religion, it is a system, and it is not peaceful.

This is a hard teaching, and many will walk away, but folks, somebody had to say it. We have to hate these people. It’s not against the law to hate someone who is trying to kill you and your family. It’s not against the law to be raging mad at a gentle man being nailed to a cross because some pervert thinks it’s funny, and it’s not against the law to kick their asses out of Texas, and hopefully the USA, too. It’s against natural law to be led like a lamb to slaughter. I am not a lamb, and got my ticket to hell a long time ago. That’s a Texas state of mind. Pray for Father Tom, ‘cause he’s damn sure praying for you!

The Cookie Jar

Nothing like getting your hand caught in the old cookie jar! First off one shouldn’t believe anything they read in the National Enquirer. I remember when they used to run pictures of monkeys with cigarettes in their mouths, claiming aliens had landed. That having been said, over the years, their score card has improved. And so it is with Ted Cruz. Ted accused the reporter, Roger Stone of copulating with rodents. Certain learned individuals have suggested that Cruz sue the Enquirer, but he won’t. Wanna know why? Cause he probably did it, that’s why!

Ouch, Ouch, swat them bees. Trump denied having anything to do with this one, but after Cruz did that spread on Don’s wife’s butt, Trump said he’s drop a bomb on him and here we are. I think there are up to about thirty-five butts in this mess. I’d love to get into this, but I’m going to be honest. Simple ol’ boy time here. Do you really think that Ted Cruz has been screwing around that much? I mean, it is possible, but c’mon. He reads fairy tales to his daughter during his filibuster against ObamaCare, he dances with her during breaks in the debates, he’s more public than GOD, and his wife hangs with him all the time. Roger Stone is a sleaze bag liar.

I said last week that I wasn’t going to get into this mud anymore, and I won’t. The Trump train churns on, but he really needs to distance himself with this kind of thing. One on one, without the drama, Trump will trump Cruz. He’s just too strong, and this is his time. Sometime in twenty years or so, Ted will return, and do something great, but this is not the year. That’s not so bad. Donald Trump has stirred up a populist revolution, and Ted, unfortunately, is part of the very thing that the revolution is revolting against. Ted is still a rising star. Heck, look at Hillary. Losing Alaska to Sanders by eighty percent. The cold never bothered her anyway. The Bush era died with Jeb, and Hillary will be the last of the MoClintons. Trump is a definite change of direction.

If Donald Trump is going to give himself dignity then he needs to control his temper, and Tweets, and start to at least act presidential. Finding Ted Cruz’s wallet in a whorehouse is not good politics. Attacking his voting record, and policies is. Trump is sharp, and he’s basically a nice guy. The country is gravitating toward him. Use that! If you wanna slander Cruz, just keep reminding folks that he’s a United States Senator, that’ll do it. You don’t have to mess with his wife or supposed girlfriends, just run pictures of him in front of the capitol. Now there’s a whorehouse if I ever saw one. And, like I said, over the years Cruz will hone his skills, develop his style, and who knows, maybe, someday, he will have a shot.

Meanwhile, don’t believe anything you read in the Enquirer. The Main Stream Media is bad enough, I mean, you’re reading me for information, ok? I support Trump because the country needs a change, not because there’s anything fundamentally wrong with Ted Cruz, and I certainly do not think he is an immoral man. In fact, I’m offended by that accusation. I’m a Simple Ol’ Boy From Austin, and the image of Cruz dancing with his daughter is stuck in my head. On the other hand, I need publicity. Hey, Rodger! Did you know that I once lived with three dancers in a double wide trailer and changed my citizenship to marry another girl before I took off to New York on a blind date, leaving my family behind? That’ll look good on the front page. And here’s her picture not blurred out. I’m the goofy one on the left.

And Then We Were One

It is Friday evening.  The small girl knelt before the tabernacle to pray.  She took out her Rosary, and loosened the white scarf that was around her head.  Letting it drape loosely she began, "I believe in God, the Father Almighty, maker of Heaven and earth.  I believe in his only Son, our Lord, Jesus Christ. . . "  As she prayed, she thought of each part of the prayer.  The Rosary is a mental, as much as a verbal prayer.  The repetition of the little prayers put her into the meditative state she was familiar with.  She began to feel a warm glow.  The rosary beads started to feel silky as she worked them between her fingers.   

"Hail Mary, full of grace

The Lord is with thee.

Blessed art Thou among women

And blessed is the fruit of Thy womb,

Jesus.

Holy Mary, mother of God

Pray for us sinners

Now, and at the hour of our death."

 

 Again and again, slowly, imperceptibly, the petite young girl’s voice faded to a whisper, and then began to sound like small pouts.  Then it was gone completely.  Her eyes were fixed on the statue of the mother of Jesus, but her soul was not behind them. 

 She found herself in a crowded passageway.  People were crowding in from every side.  The air was cool, yet the putrid odors of a large city alleyway were hanging all about.  All the shoving and excitement seemed to be centered somewhere down the alley from where she stood, and it was moving in her direction.   

 Two ancient soldiers were shoving people out of the way.  They threatened with their swords, raising them above their heads, and waving them about.  She could see that the swords were sharp and weighty.  She was well aware that even a small blow from them would be serious.  The crowd was appreciative of this, causing them to steer clear of the soldiers when the tempers appeared to flare.   

 These were hard men.  They had hard eyes, and they needed a shave.  They smelled like sweat.  Their uniforms, if they could be called that, were dirty.  Their helmets were not shiny and new, but used, very used.  They were using a language that she could not understand.  As the lead soldier came near her she recoiled, but he put his left hand out and shoved her backwards anyway, not so much that she was in his way, but he used the action to demonstrate his authority to the rest of the crowd.  Mashing his hand into her nose and eyes, giving a squeeze as he pushed, further showed his position of authority.  His hand was dirty, too.  She instinctively took her scarf and put it to her nose.   

 The crowd became very agitated and she saw other men coming up the alley, surrounded by soldiers.  The soldiers around these men were shielding them from the crowd.  She could tell that the crowd had mixed feelings, some appeared angry with the men, and others looked sympathetic.  Each man had a huge crossbeam on his shoulders.  She was stunned by the size of the beams.  They weren't smooth at all, but rough and splintery.  Great grooves ran the length of the beams.  Large iron rings were fastened to either end.  Each of the three men was tied to these beams.  As they approached she could see that the beam had rubbed their backs raw, down to the muscle.  How the men stood the pain was beyond her.  Just then the lead man tripped and fell.  The force of his fall broke the ranks of the soldiers, and he crashed down at her feet, the weight of the beam forcing his face into the stone of the walkway.  He left drops of blood on the stones where he fell.  She looked down at him as he pulled himself up, resting his weight on one knee.  He looked into her eyes.  The soldier behind him started to raise his sword.  She thought that perhaps he would strike her, but it didn't matter.  Looking into those eyes was the perfect time to die.  He was in pain, but his eyes didn't show it.  They'd broken his nose, but she could tell that it had been an exquisite nose.  His beard was full, but well kept.  She could see it was saturated with blood, too.  His hair hung down stringy, filled with blood and sweat.  She could see that it extended a length down his back almost to his waist.  They had put a "crown" on his head, a crown made of briars.  It had cut into the flesh very deep.   One cheek was smashed in.  It was not the face of an intellectual.  It was the face of  a working man.  Still, this description doesn't do the face justice.  She'd seen this face a thousand times, on road gangs, in homeless shelters, yet it was all of these, and none of these.  With one look at the face she was sorry for everything she'd ever done.  With the sight of the raised sword still at the edge of her field of vision, she raised the scarf in her hands and wiped the face.   

 He closed his eyes, and struggled to get up.  With a great effort he raised himself to his feet, and began to stumble down the cobblestones with the soldiers all around him.  She followed with the crowd.  Near the wall he fell again.  This time the soldiers had enough delay, and took the beam from his shoulders.  The cuts were much worse than she'd thought.  The cross beam had relentlessly bore down into the gaping wounds.  As the men pulled the beam off his worn shoulders, torn flesh clung to it.  The man winced, but did not cry out. 

 

 They grabbed a man from the crowd and pointed to the beam.  Even though she couldn't understand what was being said, she knew the man was being ordered to carry the beam for the prisoner who'd fell.  He obviously didn't want to, but the authority of the soldiers was clear.  She could see that any refusal, any hesitation, might even put the beam on the man's shoulders for real! 

 The crossbeam now repositioned, they all went through the outer wall at the perimeter of the city.  They stumbled up a little rocky rise and some of the soldiers held the crowd back.  The three prisoners were put on the ground.  They were stripped down to a loincloth that each one had, and each was placed upon their respective beams.  Leather bags were produced, and large hammers brought out.  The men were stretched on the beams.  While some soldiers held them down, another centurion would get a nail from the sack.  Two of the men did not cooperate and one soldier struck one of them with the flat of his sword, knocking him unconscious.  The nails were pressed into the wrists of each man, and driven all the way through into the beam with a single blow.  The man, whose face she'd wiped, moaned a little.  The other conscious man screamed something at the soldiers, and they slapped him.   

 When they were all firmly attached they were stood and ropes were run through the rings on the ends of the beams.  The soldiers then threw the ropes over the tops of some upright posts that were situated on the little rise.  Balancing the ropes so they would not fall to the side, they heaved each man onto a precut slot in his particular upright post, which was already firmly planted into the ground.  Then a soldier went to each condemned man and put a single nail through his overlapping feet.   

 Then the guards threw all the possessions of the prisoners on the ground, then began to divide them up.  She stood there with the others and looked up at the men on the crosses.  This was not glorious, it was horrible!  It was perhaps the most sickening sight she'd ever seen in her life!  They were all straining against the nails in their feet to lift themselves up so they could breathe, and each effort to do so produced a moan, or a scream.  With each beat of the heart the blood oozed from the wrists of the condemned, but she could tell that it was not from the loss of blood that death would come, but from the battle they were fighting for breath.   

 She could see some women on the far side of the rise, some crying and wringing their hands.  One was on her knees.  Tears streamed from her bright blue eyes, but she did not cry out.  She kept her eyes directly on the man in the center.  She breathed when he breathed.  She shuddered when he shuddered. A young man was standing behind her with his hands resting on her shoulders.  He was staring into the dying man's face.  The man on the center cross told him something, but she could not understand what it was.    The man put his arms around the woman, then led her away down the rise. 

 Hours passed.  During all this time there was no relief in the struggle to breathe.  Every now and then one of the men would be still, perhaps hoping death would intervene, and end the agony, and one of the soldiers would go over and poke him with a spear, or sword until they screamed.  Finally, the man in the center cried out, "Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani!" 

 The soldiers looked up.  One walked over and got a long stick.  He fixed a sponge onto it and dipped it into a clay jar of clear liquid.  Walking over to the center cross he thrust the sponge into the man's mouth! 

            At this point she folded the scarf used to dry the face, and placed it carefully into her pocket.

Why Am I Sitting Outside?

It took me three days to drive up to Utah, and my hands paid for it. Had the same problem when I went up to Long Island to fetch my third ex-wife. Naturally, if your hands hurt you don’t tend to write much, but you think a lot! You think about things like, “Why am I sitting outside in twenty degrees smoking a cigarette, and where is there a cup of coffee with coffee involved?” I think the entire state of Utah is a park, and it should be. It’s almost as if they planned this place.

You simply cannot come here and not be aware of religion. Hence, the first article to come out this week was The Farm Boy, The Angel, and the Religion of Peace. It is said that there are two angels that look over you. One, on your right shoulder is a nice guy, who preaches to you about the Ten Commandments, and the other one is a bit like Clint Eastwood. The Mormons used to be bad, and I mean Porter Rockwell bad, but sometime after they dispensed with all them wives they got politically correct. As the Beatles once sang, “Get back to where you once belonged!” When it comes to a bunch of camel jockeys vs real Americans, my money goes on the Americans every time. The LDS people have been dormant for over a hundred years, but I think if they ever wake up Allah will have something to contend with.

Utah went for Ted Cruz in their caucus. Ted used his usual, mealy-mouth, snake in the grass, dirty trick, running a picture of Donald Trump’s wife from another life to secure it. When Don’s wife Lost the Caucus, I was taken aback, but then I learned the real demographics of Utah politics i.e. the old ladies run the state! Old Mormon ladies take a dim view of naked butts. Being an old “Reptile Bait,” myself, I hadn’t noticed. (I was too busy looking at her butt!) Combine this with the fact that I went up to about six-thousand feet here, and got into a whiskey drinking contest with my retired Navy brother in law, and God dimmed the light of my wisdom. I’ll always feel that I lost the state of Utah for Trump because of a hangover, but I digress.

I just love it when I find that someone is a bigger scumbag than I am, and by golly I found two this week. Your Wife is So Ugly goes into the comments and re-Tweets between Donald Trump, and Ted Cruz, as they try to figure out who’s old lady is the bigger floozy!  Now Ted came up short here. He’s just married, but Don! He’s got it all figured out. After he wears out one wife, he just marries another world class model. It’s good to be the king! Hey. . . works for me! Cruz blubbered like a little girl after Trump put up a picture of his wife’s face, and Trump counter attacked by paying the National Enquirer to run pictures of all of Ted’s girlfriends. These guys are running for president! Poor Obama just danced a tango down in South America somewhere, but the wife war took the media by storm. I’d love to take the moral high ground, and say I was offended by all this, but I’m not. I’ve been married six times, and under Texas law I have one tag left on my “Dear” license. But, wait! Under the ruling of the Supreme Court there is a slim possibility that polygamy could be reinstated. Then, I could find me three or four of these Mormon chicks, marry them all, and count that as one marriage. I shoulda been a lawyer, really, I should.  

Your Wife Is So Ugly . . .

I’m amazed at the dignity this election cycle has brought out. We began with “hand sizes,’ and now we’ve progressed all the way to ugly wives and battle boots. “Your wife is so ugly. . . “I took off after Ted Cruz’s wife the other day, which was stupid, I may meet this guy someday, I mean we’re both from Texas, and there he’ll be. God! He may even be president. Will that make me a liberal? Never let it be said that I’m not an equal opportunity offender, I slobbered over Trump’s wife’s butt, too. He’s got a drop dead gorgeous daughter, also.

I think it’s interesting to note that whomever ran that picture of Mrs. Trump’s butt, all Don did was run a picture of Cruz’s wife’s face and Ted went off like a bazooka. The refreshing thing was that we got off of walls on the borders, and got on arguments about wives. Let’s do some demographics. Ted is a Texan. Yeah, yeah, yeah, he was born in Canada, dad was a Cuban, dispense with that. Ted’s not from Texas, but he got there as fast as he could, and he thinks like a Texan. Mr. Trump, on the other hand, thinks like a Yankee. And he’s a New York Yankee, which is about as Yankee as you can get.

So, we’ll get to watch the Twitter war most likely for the remainder of the campaign, at which time the Republicans will broker the convention and Hillary will get elected. Ya’ll didn’t see that coming, huh? That’s because you still don’t know who your handlers are. These guys love this nonsense. The more Trump and Cruz hack at each other, the more they like it. Sitting in the wings is that other guy running, and he’s exactly the kind of loser the Republican establishment wants to pit against Hillary to assure the results, and continue the status quo. Ever hear of Mitt Romney? Wait a minute! Didn’t Romney just activate a bank account and throw his hat into the ring? Smoke and mirrors. All bokem and bosh.

Actually, Donald Trump is the only person who can take Hillary on head on. He’s rich, he plays dirty, and he has staff! Hillary has more luggage than Brittney Spears at a pot party, and she knows it. Combine with that that she’s still married to Bill, and frankly, she makes Bill look good! Hey, like my friend, Juan says, “I ain’t even gonna lie to chew,” I thought that pizza with Monica in the Oval Office was cooler than dry ice, myself, but I’m just a Simple Ol’ Boy From Austin, so what do I know?

What will be interesting is watching what the powers that be do at the convention when Trump shows up with all the votes needed to just walk away with the nomination. That’s gonna be a sticky one. That’s going to expose the system for what it is, and make Alex Jones look like a prophet. Hey, I’ve been in Utah for a couple of weeks, and I’m thinking about prophets a lot, bear with me, ok?

Meanwhile, ISIS is blowing Europe of the map, there are more Mexicans on the border than ever, Finicum is still dead, there are so many abortions each day that you’d think Planned Parenthood should put up one of those signs like McDonald’s used to have saying, “Billions Served,” and Hillary has just had a photo op with Bruce Gender. Myself, I’m on the elusive pursuit of a good cup of coffee in the land of Bibles, Books of Mormon, and girls who look like Marie Osmond. A man has to keep perspective.

Trump's Wife Loses Utah

Ok, Donald Trump’s wife lost the Utah caucus. I’m at a loss here, I didn’t know she was running. It seems that somebody dredged up a picture from a magazine where Trump’s wife did a spread that showed her butt. I’ve seen the photo, and it was an exquisite butt. Hey, I’m not gay, ok? That having been said, if I ever meet Donald I’m not going to say, “Hey, your old lady sure has a nice butt. Now, of course, Cruz said he had nothing to do with that. That’s kinda like my grandkids pointing to each other when something goes wrong. Five kids in the house and nobody saw anything. Like being in the “hood” when the cops come around.

Ring the bell, school’s in. Deep seated religious convictions are hard to beat. In Utah you have a very high percentage of LDS women who vote. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. The hand that rocks the cradle rules the world, and Christian religious conviction is what we need at this particular time. Very strong influence of morality, family, and decency go a long way when that finger reaches for that little switch in a voting booth. Now, let’s look at some facts, shall we?

The Republican establishment has launched an attack on their own front runner. Now, why would they do that? They are doing that because Donald Trump is not establishment. Cruz is. Hillary is. Above all, they want to assure that when this is all over it will be business as usual. They want that border open. They want that money in the Social Security bank. They want a Mosque on every corner, and they want to maintain control. If Trump wins they lose all of that. It’s that simple. If they can’t find anything else, they drag out a nude picture of Donald Trump’s wife! Thank God we were spared a picture of Obama’s wife’s butt.  

So, let’s peel the veneer off of Heidi Cruz. She is an American investment manager at Goldman Sachs. She was born in California (I’m very suspicious about that) went to college in Brussels, and at Harvard. Sounds good. She’s forty-three years old, and she’s cute. I had to throw that in. Sorry. She had a bout with depression early in her marriage, but I don’t hold that against her, I go through that after every divorce. My last one lasted twenty-six minutes because that’s how long it took me to drive to the JP’s office to get married again, but I digress.

She became involved in her husband’s run for the senate, and reportedly cashed in all of their assets to finance the venture. It was not reported about the loan she secured from Goldman Sachs. Now, this is not a really big deal, I suppose they paid the loan back, and I see Goldman Sach’s angle, it’s always nice to buy a senate seat, but then Don’s previous life is not something that should sway the political winds either. This was a dirty trick, similar to Iowa. Remember that. Ted Cruz is showing a Nixon like persona that smacks a little of Huey Long. Dig, strike, deny.

One other little thing. Ted Cruz cannot beat Hillary Clinton. He doesn’t have that kind of clout. While Trump feverishly tried to throw a sheet over his wife it is well known that Hillary dated Yoko Ono, but what does it matter? Clout enough for ya? Ted Cruz is the little boy in the school yard and Hillary is the school master. She survived Monica! But, Ted won Utah. I guess that means something. With his wife’s love of the North American Union, Goldman Sachs, and the New World Order I’m sure the people of Utah will be getting an education real soon.

Like I said, it’s hard to beat religious conviction. This is the people of Utah voicing their opinion, and I have no problem with that.  I only hope that that conviction enables wisdom enough to ignore an attack on a man’s wife that was purposely designed to push emotional buttons on people who don’t see the big picture, and the big picture is their state sovereignty, the loss of their faith, their bill of rights, and their children’s future. One picture is worth a thousand words. If you wanna see the back story just look at Ted’s right hand in the picture on this article. I can say no more!

The Farm Boy, The Angel, and the Religion of Peace

We were entertained today, yet again, by the “Religion of Peace.” With thirty dead, and more than two hundred injured, ISIS claimed another victory for Jihad. Three of the injured were Mormon missionaries, and I don’t know the extent of their wounds, but my thoughts and prayers go out to their families. Now we have a new wrinkle in the cosmic fabric. The farm boy, the angel, and the religion of peace. Muslims can come into the United States, and raise hell in a café that serves bacon and eggs, but we can’t even use the term, “radical Islam.” Like my friend, Doc Greene would say, “On what planet does that make sense?”

Folks, it’s high time we get down and dirty with these people. I’ve said that if there are moderate Muslims then they’d better stand up and be counted, because if they don’t, the day will come when America will show them the door. A trap door with a sack over their heads. Oh, my bad, their ladies already have a sack over their head. Yet another cost cutting angle from Bill the Butcher.  In another life I was a devout Catholic. I used to love to go to confession if only to see the look on the priest’s face, and hear, “Gee, Bill, why’d you do that?” Naturally, I was anti-Mormon. We’d cite the passage by Paul about a “different Jesus,” but friends and neighbors the Muslims don’t represent a “different Jesus,” they hate Jesus. Oh, they give lip service, saying He was some kind of a “messenger,” and all that, but when they finally control an area they eradicate all forms of Christian worship. Every manner of vile statements about the Lord, but we can’t even draw a picture of their “prophet.”

Donald Trump’s idea of deporting and/or detaining all Muslims is entirely legal. We did that in WWII, we suspended flights right after the Twin Towers, and I don’t recall any flights coming over from Berlin during 1941 to about 1945. That’s called common sense.  And the great Imam in the White House claiming Islam contributed to the building of America is absolutely false. What have they built? I was recently in Salt Lake City at Temple Square, and I didn’t see one crescent moon anywhere. The religious garb being worn by the most devout consisted of a shirt and tie, and everybody was polite. No tongue wagging, no explosions, and plenty of help for me to see their Temple.

Now, I’m using the Mormons because they are the most organized group I know of. They carved out a home in the desert, solidified their religion, and eventually came into the mainstream of America, and ladies and gentlemen that was no easy task. They assimilated. They compromised. Ya’ll know what I think of organized religion, so I’m not going to be a hypocrite here, but if that religion improves someone’s life, gives them purpose, and doesn’t hurt anyone, what’s the beef? We all have that “God hole,” in our heads I talk about. Muslims want their God to put a whole in your head. Islam is alien to Western thought, and you wanna know why? Because Muslims aren’t Western thought kinda people, that’s why! They do not believe in “We The People,” they believe in the king of the camel jockeys, and folks, that’s as simple as I can put it.

I touched on the Utah-Texas connection last week, and I’m gonna drive home that nail right now. Utah! When ISIS came to Texas we killed them! We baited them, waited for them, and left them on a parking lot in Arlington drawing flies while we popped corks and laughed our cowboy butts off, and brothers and sisters, we got some flies in Texas. We have roaches so big that they turn on the light and watch you run! While Obama was wiping that politically correct tear out of his left eye we were hosing the blood off the parking lot, and planning yet another art contest. That’s how you answer Islam!

Mormons! You are a big prize. If these people can bring you down what chance do the Southern Baptists have? Other Christians! When they come, we all look alike, even you black folk out there. We may have come over on different boats, but we’re in the same boat now! After we dispense with these interlopers we can argue about which heaven we go to when we die, but until then they need to have a ‘talk with Jesus. Our job is to arrange the meeting! Like my buddy Scott Binsack would say, “Bada Bing, Bada BOOM!”

The Two Weeks That Were

I missed my weekly summary last week because I was on the road so this is the TWO weeks that were. I’m up in Utah for a week or two, and I’m getting plugged into the climate, both weather wise and political. My sinuses cleared up. God, I hope I’m not allergic to Texas. I touched on something yesterday, and I’m going to start off there. In Them and Us I tried to tie in the common interests of Utah and Texas, which are profound. Brigham Young was a lot like Donald Trump. Now, the man had his ways, but he took a group of people and struck out for the desert to found a nation, and a culture, and like Texas, the LDS people are clinging to their heritage. My message was, “We are with you. You are not alone.”

Guns, Glory, and Midgets was in response to some fool who went after me on gun control. This guy was a classic, and I just couldn’t put him away. This is a real danger, people. These people are out there, and they make kids! I can’t believe that a man who thinks like this has the brain cells to power a heart and liver, but I’m not a doctor. Talk about zombie. Here it is, I say HERE IT IS!

Suspicious was actually three ideas that came together that was sent to me by Kate Beecham, Casey Nunez, and Teddy Bear. I began to see a common denominator and tied them up with a pretty bow.

The Law of the Jungle was in answer to the current rage of protesting Donald Trump’s rallies. Was it racist enough for ya? Hey, Ah’m from TEXAS, and I don’t buy into Political Correctness one little bit.

Ain’t No Run When The Rabbit’s Got The Gun was after I watched LaVoy Finicum’s daughter wipe her nose and talk about her daddy. God! I love that  kid! If you ever have any doubt about what we are up against just pull your head out of Mr. Butt, and look this little girl in the face.

Dramatic New Footage From Oregon. One picture is worth a thousand words, and this was the one picture that clearly shows a government that is out of control. The cell phone footage from inside the SUV in Oregon shows terrified people, a useless attack, and a man that was no threat to the officers. Finicum was on his way to a sheriff. Why were the Oregon State Police, and FBI so scared of a sheriff?

The Enemy Within dispels the myth of Carlos the friendly orange picker. Our borders are under attack. No other country in the world puts up with what we have going on down there, and the administration tries to make Americans who scream about it look like a bunch of irrational fanatics. Point of fact: ONE Mexican got over the White House fence and almost shut down the government. If you go to the Texas border you’d think you were at the Alamo. Yet again, Trump is on point, and keeps sticking that point to the government time, and time again.

As a complimentary piece San Jacinto Redux puts flesh on the bones of illegal immigration. My man in the street, Teddy Bear, has identified the organized effort to place not orange pickers, but soldiers in place, all over America, for the day when they rise up, with the help of the UN, and take over the country. Scary stuff if you’re not a Texan. Houston knew the remedy for the Alamo, and we know the one for this.

Thought I’d give a little lesson in politics so I wrote See Ted Run. Simple piece, really, with a simple message. Since this article, Rubio dropped out, and Cruz is jockeying for a VP slot. Times sure change fast.

Think I can’t be Politically Correct, or sanitize a piece?  I wanted so BAD to call this one Super Tuesday and Hand Jobs, but opted for Super Tuesday and Hand SIZES. No wonder the Democrats laugh at us.

Man! I didn’t even know there WAS still a KKK until I wrote David Duke. Fact: If there is still a Klan the members have to show up in their wheel chairs and oxygen, but, they still scare the pants off of “some” people. All in all, this was a dirty trick by the Dems to discredit Trump just like the guys in sheets photographed holding Trump signs. You remember those guys. The ones with the black hands?

Even though I’m not a practicing Catholic anymore I still feel the need for confession and Arrested For Driving While Blind was it. I’d love to say I made this article up, but fact is I held back because I want to continue to work for the Trib.

And that was the weeks that were. I’m on vacation, but I’ll be back in Texas soon. Hopefully the politicians will continue to provide me with subjects to expound on, and the price of whiskey doesn’t go up too much. Ya’ll be cool. Peace out!

Them and Us

Them and us. Remember that, there’ll be a quiz later. Ask yourself, what do Stephen F. Austin and Brigham Young have in common?  What led the Mormons to the Salt Lake Valley was partly religious persecution, and partly a bad case of “Them and Us.” As a Texan, I can understand who “them” were. They were Americans, or the facsimile thereof. Brigham Young picked the most God awful place you could imagine. A lake you can’t drink, weather you have to endure, and inhabitants who didn’t want you there. All this, and the Mormons clawed an existence out of the desert that rivaled San Francisco.

Now, my regular readers know what I think of organized religion, but I shall summarize. We all have a “God Hole” in our head, and something has to fill it. I fill mine with whiskey, but some folks just gotta have ritual, rules, holy this and holy that, and that’s ok if it makes them feel good. Brother Young used the God Hole to keep the faithful on the straight and narrow, because in the high desert if you weren’t on the straight and narrow you’d find yourself under the sand in no time. In short, it worked. What happens in this country when a group of people find a system that works? Well, the Americans come and steal it, that’s what. “Manifest Destiny is just another term for non-consensual sex. In due time the army was dispatched to put the Mormons in their place. The Civil War intervened and eventually the LDS people traded surplus wives for statehood, got “Deseret” trimmed down to size and you have the Utah we see today. Still, from the Mormon point of view, them and us.

The Mormons have a very tight culture, and there is a difference between Mormon culture, and Mormon religion. After years of persecution, they are very suspicious of “them.” As they cling to their civilization they see the edges crumbling all around them, and they struggle to hold it together. If you will note, the Americans did not come calling until after Salt Lake City was built, and the industrious Mormons had turned a profit at the instructions of their “prophet.” Them never builds, they steal from us. Now, let’s move on.

Now, let’s take a trip to Texas. Again, bunch of people went to a hell of a place, carved out a life, fought a war, joined the “Union,” got trimmed down to size, and then it was them and us. Texas got a bigger screwing than Utah in that it was occupied under rules of defeat until C. J. Grisham mounted the Capitol steps in Austin and waved his gun at the governor, all legal, breaking the hold of the 1871 law forbidding Texans to protect themselves. Texas has an organized nationalist movement, a militia, a government in place for the republic, oil, cattle, tech, seaport, and all the Mexicans. Utah is different. Utah has no secession movement, no organization, and no “national” identity, but it does have a firm, family oriented foundation, and that puts them directly opposed to the American system of today, emphasizing them and us!

It is not what America was founded on, but what it has become that makes it an abomination to Mormons. And this is creeping into the state. Salt Lake City has a gay mayor. Just think about that. In a place where people don’t even drink coffee they have a pervert for a mayor. That tells you something about demographics. There are more perverts in Salt Lake City than there are Temple Mormons. Texas began the slide some time ago. Houston had a perv running the city, so we can’t talk, but Texas does have a solid core. Ask Wendy Davis how talking up abortion to a bunch of Mexican Catholics worked out for her in the last election.

Utah, and Texas have something in common. . . them and us. We have all been screwed by the Americans, or rather the perversion of America as we had come to understand it. In the ruins of Deseret and the Republic of Texas there is a remnant. Guess who speaks directly to that remnant? Donald Trump, because he, too, believes in America. He’s one of “us.”  Remember the Southern Strategy I told you about some time back? Well, just switch that to “Western Strategy.” You see the Trump train rides on the rails of righteous anger. The outrage of the people who are sick and tired of what “them” are doing to “us.”

And it doesn’t matter what the religion is. The right to run your own business, your state, have your family safe, your border secure, and know that you won’t get shot for trying to drive to the sheriff’s office is important to these people. To have a culture where it means something to be a member of a church, have no abortion clinics in town, no vets homeless while illegals collect welfare. . . those things mean something, and that’s what Trump is pounding home. Have you noticed that every time one of his rallies is protested by “them” there are suddenly more of “us” supporting Mr. Trump? His message just becomes louder. DUDES! He’s a New York real estate broker, he doesn’t care about your religion, unless you’re a Muslim, and frankly I agree with him.

It’s not just Texas and Utah. Practically every part of the nation has people who have struggled to make a better life for our kids only to have it taken from us to given to them. Them and us. Interesting note: During Jade Helm 15 both Utah, and Texas were designated “Hostile.” Jus’ sayin’. Also interesting in that the first blood to be shed in this fight was the blood of a Mormon, LeVoy Finicum. There is more to come.

We must all rally to Donald Trump’s call. We must stand with him. The Republican leadership will steal the nomination if they can. Utah, and Texas, and all real Americans need to double down, and get Trump nominated, and then show Hillary the door. Make America Great Again! Mr. Trump is taking attacks from all sides, and it’s all spin and lies because “them” knows that if he wins, “us” wins, and they can’t have that. That’ll be the end of the world bankers controlling congress, of the BLM stealing land, or the illegal immigrant welfare express and the insidious occupation of the New World Order. It will be the reinstatement of America. The America envisioned by the founding fathers, and cherished by “us.” Let’s show “them” the door.

Oh, what did Austin and Young have in common? Two things; they knew how to organize a nation, and they were both in real estate. So much for Rubio’s little crack about this not being a real estate deal. Like I said, it is a real estate deal. . . it’s called America! And America belongs to us, not them!

Guns, Glory and Midgets. Love letters come in all shapes and sizes. Got one on my Google Account today from some girly-man, trying to show me all the reasons that I need to get shot in the butt while eating lunch. And I quote. .  .

“u all gotta be shitting me I'm sick of you straight up idiots I mean truly truly stupid how could you ever think everyone carrying a gun will bring down crime none of these idiots with guns have even 10% the training to decide when to open carry most what if someone starts fighting you when do you decide to kill this person and when someone sees you pull a gun they all will think you are the criminal and shoot you its fear begets fear another scenario most people live in apartments someone breaks in most crazy people will just start shooting and probably kill a baby next door and god knows who else hey idiots there was a time we all carried guns it was called the WILD west for a reason everyone killed everyone and even then you could not carry a gun in or around town you had to drop your gun off to the sherif and pick it up on your way out how dare you not respect our police force they have a life or death job and your taking up my tax paying dollars with your massive ego attention”

Well butter my butt, and call me a biscuit! stupid how could you ever think everyone carrying a gun will bring down crime

Well gee, let me see. I’m putting gas in my car. Homeboy come up and says, “Give me all your money. Appearing to reach for my wallet I put a nice Smith & Wesson 40 instead. Now, this guy is familiar with “40s”,but I don’t think this is the kind he was looking for. Odds are that I will walk away from said situation.

none of these idiots with guns have even 10% the training to decide when to open carry

Au Constraire, Peaches! Texas requires training before a permit is issued, and most gun owners are gun enthusiasts who frequent the shooting range. And, how does that training bear on “when” to open carry? I, myself prefer to conceal because I like to shoot people in the back. It’s easier. I just play the old man buying a six pack when LeRoy decides to make a withdrawal at the checkout stand. It doesn’t matter if I pull the gun from under my coat, out of a hip holster, or out of my butt, the end result is the same. Please see the above Homeboy at the gas pump.

what if someone starts fighting you when do you decide to kill this person

Uh, when he hits me. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I got a short fuse.

when someone sees you pull a gun they all will think you are the criminal and shoot you its fear begets fear

Wow! This one took some thought. Let’s see, I’m in said convenience store and Homeboy starts to rob. I pull the previously mentioned gun and shoot Homeboy. Little old lady buying a bottle of three-dollar wine at the cooler beside me thinks, “I cannot tell who the bad guy is and starts shooting at me. Man buying a can of tuna, likewise becomes confused and starts blasting her. Of course the clerk, by this time, has pulled the shotgun from under the counter, and in the midst of all the gunfire, kills everyone in the store, including the five-year-old girl because he thought she was a midget. Dude! The west ain’t that wild! By the way, I have a fetish for midgets, but I digress.

 most people live in apartments someone breaks in most crazy people will just start shooting and probably kill a baby next door and god knows who else

Use hollow points.

hey idiots there was a time we all carried guns it was called the WILD west for a reason everyone killed everyone and even then you could not carry a gun in or around town you had to drop your gun off to the sherif and pick it up on your way out

Ok, bank tellers didn’t carry guns, school teachers didn’t either, nor did pastors, or school kids. True, most towns had an ordinance, but I thought you said everyone was shooting everyone. I won’t bore you with the OK Corral. BTW friends and neighbors, when you hear the term “wild west” what you got is a Yankee. You need to check out the stats since concealed carry passed in Texas, and then compare those numbers to say. .  . Chicago.

out how dare you not respect our police force they have a life or death job and your taking up my tax paying dollars with your massive ego attention

No, they are taking up your tax dollars. I shoot people for free. I don’t know where you live, but I’m sure when the police finally get to you, after your trusty 911 call, they will bring that little piece of chalk to draw around you. Too bad they can’t sketch in that stupid look on your face.

All in all, I think that you, sir, need to pull your pants out, look down, and give us all a panties check. This is a collection of the lamest brained, liberal nonsense I’ve ever seen. When I got it I thought CJ Grisham was pulling joke on me. But, you provided my with a lot of entertainment so we’re even. Hey, do you have a cute sister. Just asking.

Love,

A gun toting idiot.

Ain't No Fun When The Rabbit's Got The Gun

Ain’t no fun when the rabbit’s got the gun. Today I was humbled by a little lady on a video. Tean Fiinicum, LaVoy’s daughter, giving a talk about our country, her father, and her legacy. Her request was simple. She asked America to stand with her, and if it doesn’t then she will stand, and die alone. Someone else made this same call from a crumbling adobe church years ago. “If this call is neglected, I am determined to sustain myself as long as possible & die like a soldier who never forgets what is due to his own honor & that of his country”

With all the discussion about LaVoy Finicum’s death we have overlooked one simple thing. It has now become business as usual to kill citizens, white or black, and the courts will always justify it, and ignore the constitution. The government has now become the master, and we the serfs, hoping that King Fed will just not take our property today, and not kill us for driving down the road. Let’s do some math. There are more of us than there are them! And it’s funny that we are a nation of laws only when it is convenient to the Fed. “They right of the people,” is ignored by the Supreme Court, but the right to shoot anyone at any time for any reason is upheld, and upheld, and upheld.

Taking that building in Burns, Oregon was a stupid thing to do. Staying at the Alamo was stupid, too, but sometimes someone has to show us what will happen when you deal with an out of control tyrannical government. Think about it. One building. They took one building to make a point. Why didn’t the FBI simply seal it off and wait for them to run out of food and charges on their cell phones? I’ll tell you why. Any resistance to the machine will be met by force. That’s why! I’m not going to go over the shooting again, I’ve done it many times, but I will say all the law enforcement (and I use that term loosely) had to do was follow Finicum to the sheriff. What were they so scared of? Why did they not want him to go to the sheriff. If he were such an outlaw, then the sheriff would have put him in jail. Never heard of Billy the Kid running to the county jail. Have you?

Miss Finicum calls for us to put down our differences and stand with her. Naturally about 100,000 keyboard commandos chimed in and said they would. Ok, let’s talk “Killeen” homies. This thing is going down! I watched a slow motion video last night that clearly shows Mr. Finicum being fired upon before he leaves his SUV. That’s why he was shouting, “Just go ahead and shoot me!” He knew the deal! He understood what was at stake, and accepted the all. He crossed the line in the sand!

The Fed has been out of control so long that the rules of engagement have been changed. We are not the people anymore; we are the enemy. That is why we have to keep our hands on the wheel when stopped for running a traffic light. That’s why we put up our hands when an officer approaches. That why we get beat up when we quote the constitution. Free speech zones? Give me a break! Bonnie and Clyde got a better deal than LaVoy Finicum.

There is going to be a rise of resistance in America. Texas will lead. Texas always has. From the Alamo to Waco, always remember that we are the folks that will hole up in a church and shoot at you! LaVoy crossed Travis’s line, and the Mexicans are over the wall. Fellas, it’s time to put the mouse down, and pick the constitution up. I can’t get that young lady’s eyes out of my mind. Ain’t no fun when the rabbit’s got the gun!

 

 

Simple Ol' Boy From Austin

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