Out Yankee the Yankees

     Time for a little reality check. There is a difference between the Republic of Texas and Texas independence. Write that down, there will be a quiz. The Republic of Texas was born, and died in the 1800s, but the idea of Texas independence from the dog and pony show that calls itself the (Dis) United States in a living, breathing entity. Texas is, and has always been separate from the United States. The differences between Texas and the other so-called states who prostitute themselves before the Fed are many. Money flows OUT of Texas. Other states line up with their hands out for their daily bread. The Federal Reserve writes them a hot check, calls it money, and  they go home with a big, goofy smile on their faces. Texas has industry. This is true because we're taking it from all the Blue states who are working day and night to destroy opportunity. Rick Perry, RICK PERRY, for God's sake, played California like a drunken prom queen, and corporations beat feet for Austin quicker than a dog will chase a cat. 

     Texas has oil. I know there are some people over yonder who would disagree, but Texas, Canada, and Mexico could smoke OPEC in a New York minute, and that's a short minute folks. Fun fact: Arabs do not build ANYTHING! They drive OUR cars, watch OUR TVs, and wipe with OUR Charming! Ok, they have oil. Go tell the Chinese. If Texas had its way it would shut off the port of Houston to all Arab oil and we'd all be better off for it. So why isn't Texas a Republic again?

     We are not a republic out loud because if we leave the United States would have to declare war on us as a matter of survival. They are broke. They are printing currency that even the Mexicans laugh at. We hold them up. As long as we feed the beast it will allow us to plan. The independence of Texas is very important. If we don't survive and grow the United States will dry up and blow away. The US is that unemployed brother in law living in our back bedroom. We don't like it, but our wife won't let us throw him out. So we hunker down and pay his child support. 

     What we need to do is maintain our liberty, and at least some measure of distance from all these welfare babies for their good as much as ours. They've lost it, and like a record made of wax, it ain't never coming back. If we secede the will attack us. They have to. If we continue to placate them with bread and circuses they will drink the Kool Aid. The object of the game is for Texas to grow as America shrinks. Texas has all the marks of a true republic but we have to keep them laughing until they are in so deep there is no hope of ever infringing upon our sovereignty again. Then they can call it anything they want it will BE independence. That's what we all really want. We want a Texas that simply ignores Washington. Just look at them. They are seriously considering running a woman for their president who has more scandals than all the communist counties combined. A secretary of state who couldn't even take a phone call to defend her own embassy, but, what does it matter? They voted in their last president based solely on his complexion. And they call US racist!  Need I go on? 

     We need to reform the body that was attacked in Bryan and work to make it a viable force against Yankee influence within our borders. We need to put militia on the border and stem the tide of filibusters streaming over in defiance of our sovereignty. We need to push back on the FBI, CIA, NSA, and all other alien interests in Texas. We need to tell our sheriffs to step up to the plate and BE sheriffs! Most of all we need to become independent minded. A defacto Republic of Texas. A dream that never really died, but evolved as we figured out how to out Yankee the Yankees. The quiz? Which side of Travis' line do YOU stand on? 

Love & Logic

     I am reading a book loaned to me by a school councilor.  "Parenting with Love & Logic," by Foster Cline & Jim Fay, which you can find at:

http://www.amazon.com/Parenting-Love-Logic-Updated-Expanded/dp/1576839540/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1428586936&sr=8-1&keywords=Parenting+with+love+%26+logic

      My grandson, Nick, six years old, has a bit of an aggression problem. His twin, Chris, is a "negotiator," but little Chris takes a more "direct" approach. When the lady sent the book home the first thing I thought was, "Yeah, RIGHT!" Here's one more bi-sexual liberal Democrat trying to tell me to let the kids run everything, and if they get out of control, well, they have a pill for that! Well, in a word, I was wrong. I'm allowed to be wrong twice a year. 

     The basic premise of the book is to let kids work out their own problems whenever possible. Now, that doesn't mean to allow them to play soccer in the freeway, but it demonstrates that when a child encounters an issue the parent should not micro-manage or rescue them every time, so long as the situation doesn't endanger life and limb. The more I read the book, the more absorbed I became. The authors actually suggested, when dealing with a child that has entered that stage of talking back, to let other kids handle it. When a five year old sasses a six year old, and gets his nose rubbed into the grass it just might be a good thing. I thought, "Whoa! Even a stopped watch is right twice a day. These Yankees might be onto something!" 

     Another section dealt with coats. Instead to telling children to wear a certain coat, simply mention to them that it is cold today and let THEM make the choice, and live with the result. Good, sound logic, but therein lays the problem. I'm going to have a meeting with the councilor and explain some facts of life to her. There is another element involved here, and we all know what that is. The CPS!

     I've got a busy body neighbor, two busy body teachers, and a busy body principal in my kid's lives. And let me tell you, brothers and sisters, they're open for business! Let's just take the coat idea for instance. Puck gets up with her usual attitude, which is always two bubbles short of plumb before her morning chocolate, and I do as the book says, casually mentioning only in passing that it is cold today. Depending upon which side her toast is buttered on that morning, Puck may, or may not choose to wear a coat, and most likely will not. So she parades down to the old bus stop with her, "Let It Go" T-Shirt and goes off to school. CPS call, NEGLECT! Here's comes Miss WhomEVER from the department, and we all have to bend  over for a full cavity search! 

     THIS is the issue we all have to address! The micro-managing of families by an ever intrusive government has got to stop! We have been investigated thirty-eight times in the last two years, all charges "ruled out" and the show goes on. Just yesterday, Puck decided to change her shoes at school, not liking the new ones we'd purchased, donning an old pair that she found more comfortable and there were questions coming down from the school because she didn't have shoe strings on the older pair. People, this was a major discussion involving certified Professionals with college degrees! Now, we're paying these people, folks. If they were just hanging out doing this nonsense it would be bad enough, but we give them MONEY for these shenanigans! I have to sell books to make a living. All they have to do with their time is look at an eight year old's FEET! I'm just a Simple Ol' Boy From Austin, but did I miss something here? 

     All that having been said, the book is a good, sound book. I believe if thinking people, such as these two authors get involved then we can get all these ponies back in the  corral. I would love to meet the writers and tell them, "Loved your book, agree with every word, unfortunately the CPS says you are recklessly endangering the children on Texas, and frankly they're wondering if you have children of your own!"

The Fire Down Below

     Facebook is like a pretty girlfriend who is a real good time, but she cheats, and you put up with her for the few hours that she's good for.   I put up a status last night laying out a new plan for my Facebook account, but had to rethink it.  I watched a video explaining how the website cherry picks what gets forwarded to various various News Feeds, and it was, well, enlightening. 

     Like most of you, I thought Facebook worked like a text message where you send, and it goes, and that's that. Au Contraire! The man on the video explained that he had up to about one hundred and eighty thousand "likes." He assumed when he put something on his page that it automatically filtered through to these people who had previously indicated they were interested in what he had to say. Nope! He talked to someone at Facebook, and was informed that only about two thousand or so got to see his posts at any given time. If I had a publisher that did that I would find another publisher!

     In addition to that, if the people "liking" you don't comment or share for a period of time, Facebook will conveniently "unlike" them for you. How special is that? I was a bit disturbed. My only reason to be on Facebook is to have a convenient ramp to push my articles, and hopefully sell a few books. Facebook had reduced  itself to about the level of those things you find on a boar hog that are of absolutely no use at all. You'd think the biggest website in history would be able to compose a sub routine that would simply pass notes through with no fanfare, but then you must remember it was conceived by a guy inventorying girl's faces, i.e. "Facebook!" 

     So, what to do? Well, first off we must perceive reality. Facebook is useless as a publishing medium. Remember that girlfriend? Great the night before, gone in the morning! Like her, use Facebook for what it's good for. Stop having dreams of glory, imagining millions of followers hanging on your every word, or pictures of your lunch. Create smaller circles of manageable groups that you can be reasonably sure will read what you write, but don't depend on Facebook to do ANYTHING! The girlfriend will never cook you breakfast. If you are having a discussion in a private group, where the people there are interacting with you BINGO! If you think more than ten people are going to read your next "status" you are spitting in the wind. Learn it, live it, love it! Save your best stuff for private blogs. Wordpress, Google Plus, and others are out there. As you develop as a writer your audience will grow. If you get lucky, and some nice people actually PRINT your words in a physical newspaper and that is great. I get more reads from the Dam Good Times, from intelligent people in one month that I've gotten from two years of posting on Facebook. Write a book! Self publish. Then lead people back to that every chance you get. Books, magazines and newspapers are not dead! Brain dead Lemmings  comb Facebook for wisdom. Thinking people read the Dam Good Times! They also read the local paper, and those shock rags you find at the checkout stand in the supermarket, but the very act of picking up something, thumbing through it, reading, and considering puts them hands above someone on an iPad sharing a picture of a cat flipping on Facebook!

     Are you swatting them bees yet? Facebook creates the illusion that we "need" it. We begin to dread "Facebook Jail" as if our lives will be put on hold if we can't post some drivel about a crazy cop, or a picture of some girl falling down in the street, and all the while some faceless mime sits out there in cyberspace censoring our every thought over a cup of  espresso.   

     In due time Facebook will be a memory.  Even Disney studios saw its better days. How's your MySpace thing doing? Someone, somewhere will come up with something new, something better, and you will see that girlfriend jump on the back of a Harley one day, ride away, and never come back. That is the law of the jungle. IBM laughed at Steve Jobs. Do any of you out there even have an IBM computer? How long has it been since you SAW a typewriter? You saw that woman selling newspapers on the street corner this morning, now didn't you? I hate to cite my years in this game, but I've seen 'em come, and I've seen 'em go. They got one thing in common, they got the fire down below.

The Great Credit Card in the Sky

     What makes Easter so special? A large portion of the world pauses, takes a breath, considers at this time, and recounts a most amazing story of a simple Rabbi some two thousand years ago. Jesus never wrote a grocery list, yet He was literate as borne out by His act of reading in Synagogue. The record of His life and death was trusted to others, some hundreds of years after His death. During his life he predicted His death, and outlined the reasons, which went contrary to Jewish thought of His day. The Jews had ideas of a new King David, who would come and subject the world beneath Israel, ruling with justice and a reverence to the one true God. Jesus had a game plan exactly one hundred and eighty degrees from that. 

     If you take the Gospels as strictly historical documents you can easily pick them apart for inconsistencies. There are many theories on just how the Gospels came about, one, called the "Q" Gospel, tries to expound the idea that there was one central Gospel, and all others sprang from that. The Gospel of John throws a  Menorah in the middle of that idea. The three synoptic Gospels concern themselves with the "what" of Jesus' ministry. The Book of John examines the "Why." 

     Jesus picked Matthew for a specific reason. Matthew was a tax collector, and modern imagery projects a picture of a man, sitting in some office, counting coins and turning them over to the Romans. Matthew had another talent. There were no "1040" forms back then, and if there had been most people couldn't write anyway, so the evaluation of tax was left up to the tax collector. Matthew would sit by the post, watching fishermen bring in their catch, count rapidly, and making shorthand notes of who caught what, and how many. It wasn't perfect, but it was close enough for government work. This same Matthew sat near Jesus during the Sermon of the Mount, and didn't miss a single word! A postage stamp size piece of parchment, found in Egypt over a century ago has been examined and found to be most likely originating in, or about the year 60 AD, which means it was copied from a document most likely coming from Matthew's actual hand. This demonstrates the innate accuracy of the Book of Matthew, and flies in the face of any "Q" document. 

     That having been said, most of the Gospels came down through oral history. After the crucifixion the Apostles went in eleven different directions at once, telling the story of Jesus to whomever would listen. Then add in the Apostle Paul, Mark, and always remember that Mary was still alive. You don't think she talked about her boy? You don't even have to be Catholic to accept that! The story of Jesus of Nazareth spread out like a Beatles Record across the Roman world. Did you ever look closely at the King James Bible. Just the titles of the Gospels.  The Gospel ACCORDING to St. Mark, or Luke, or John, not BY them! The reasoning is very simple. As the apostles, and others spread the word, Christians really believed that Jesus would be back the day after tomorrow. Add a couple hundred years to this, and some enlightened individuals thought, "We'd better write this down!" Unlike the Qu'ran, that came hot off the presses even as Mohammed drew his last breath, it was left to Christians to pull together bits and pieces when they realized that Jesus' plan of action was a bit wider that previously imagined. 

     The plan was actually very simple. It was a system of debits and credits. Mankind had run up a bill, and Jesus picked up the tab.    Basically it was impossible for man not to fall. He was designed to fall. That was all part of the plan. An all knowing God played Satan like a fiddle, using Satan's conniving nature to complete His creation. Creating a man from dust was the easy part, but to make man in the image of God required something more . . . A soul! An unseen being within a being. A driving force that could never die, residing within the "egg" of a physical body, waiting to emerge and take its rightful place with God in the eternal kingdom. This entity had to be created, or born. After that it had to grow, and mature, but it could never be perfect. An assist was needed. To put the polish on the apple God came up with an idea. Since He, and only He could ever be perfect, He'd just come up with a way to share some of Himself with this new creation to round out the deal. The sins would come, that was a given, but since there is no deficit in heaven someone had to pick it up, and God just did it Himself!  Sin is just divination from God's plan. He only gave us ten rules with the full understanding that we couldn't even follow that any more than we could adhere to the Sermon on the Mount, so we ended up with a system of sin and punishment, which was just, but God didn't want that, He wanted to complete His creation and SOMEbody had to pay the tab. That was a rule even God wouldn't break because to ignore sin would just be a lie, and God cannot lie!

     Jesus called it being "born again," and had quite a time explaining this concept to a tax collector, a few fishermen, and a bunch of hard headed preachers hanging out over at the Temple, who all had their eyes firmly fixed upon what they deemed to be "reality!" He frequently used the phrase, " Those who have eyes to see," and you would never have those eyes unless you allowed those eyes to be born. If you did not accept the plan you would be forever spiritually blind. The price was horrendous. Nay-Sayers reason that God must be a cruel master for killing His own son in such a fashion, but they miss the entire point. God didn't kill his son, he killed HIMSELF! The Muslims go on and on about one God, and they are correct as far as that goes, but where they veer off onto a camel path is not understanding the personalities or power of God. God manifests Himself in multiple ways, but it's always God. He can be a spirit, or a carpenter from a small village in Israel if that's what he wants to do. Mohammed could never see that because he never accepted the "eyes." 

     So, Jesus went up on that cross, created the bank account, and made all mankind co-signers. The creation was now complete. It doesn't matter if you buy into evolution, of believe man was made from a clot, in the end, if you understand God's master plan,  you get a well rounded human being, spit and polished, ready for eternity. Pretty good for seven days work, even for God! 

     Atheists, agnostics, and of course Muslims pick apart the story of Jesus with blind eyes. Everything from rewriting it, all the way up to trying to say He didn't even exist at all, and His ministry was some kind of Rabbinical theory expounded in the first century. In spite of all of this they still can't prove that a wood worker just got up one Sunday morning and walked out of his tomb like He had good sense! They point to other men who supposedly did the same thing all through history, but if you can understand that God is above time, and Jesus split that time at Golgotha, could it be that these images, both forward and back, reflect that image like two mirrors facing each other with the event going endlessly into eternity both ways? It's called parallel universes, and yes, God runs them, too, deal with it! 

     The plan remains the same. You can chant on your Rosary beads, thump that Bible, or scream the Islamic call to prayer until your face turns blue, but you will never change the plan, nor the outcome if you are not signed up to that bank account in the sky. God sifts His chosen, but there is a janitor in the bank lobby, ready to lure the greedy, the doubters, and the devious over to his side.  God never forces. He speaks with a soft voice, and His greatest creation was free will. People wonder how if God is an all knowing God that we still have free will. Think of it this way. The cosmos is like a book, and God is the author. Of course He knows the outcome of the general plot of the book. Shucks, He even told us that in Revelation! But, as God creates man He gives us personality, and then He sits back and allows those personalities to peruse their own course, much like you would give rules to a children and then allow them to play in the yard. God creates man over and over again, each time a baby is conceived, and the word is CONCEIVED, in the MIND of God! He just uses us to enact the physical body.  All the rest is already set up, and when you try to alter that set up you try to impeach God! Did you think that baby's soul died under the abortionist's knife? No indeed! They are sitting with God waiting for those people to explain their theories on the last day. At the moment of conception God already knows that person, has already planted the seed, and waits for the seed to sprout. He allows free will because He wants friends, not robots. 

     Easter is the one day of the year that we are reminded that the plan is still in effect. It's the one time that believers come together and remember Jesus, who He was, and what He really did to perfect us to join Him. He never wrote a book, never raised a sword, and never forced anyone to accept the plan, yet that message went all over the world, and the janitor waits to pervert it in  any way he can, but that's ok, because God also set up an unemployment line with no check at the end. Happy Easter folks!

     

Banana Boats

     I said yesterday that I was taking the weekend off to celebrate the holiday. I lied! Got up this morning with something on my mind. Ted Cruz has ignited the political scene more than back when Washington was kicking those chunks of ice out of the way in the Delaware.  The ladies, oh God I hate to use that term for them, on the "View" even saw fit to take off after him the very next day. Whoopie Goldberg was the lead dog. Whoopie's movie career is in the toilette so she became a political scientist. She could always star in a remake of "Predator." She's  GOT the hair! 

     Liberals in America have held sway for far too long, and we conservatives have been too busy paying for their Obama phones to launch much of an attack, but in the words of the song, "Times, they are a-changing!" The newly endowed Republican house and Senate was the American people serving an eviction notice to the radical left that solid, red blooded American CHRISTIANS were fed UP! I agree with Doc Greene on www.ragingelephants.com that in former days when a republican went to congress, after a bit, they would morph into a RINO (Republican in name only) but the landscape has changed. When one finds oneself amongst a bunch of fools, and if you wish to survive, you try to blend in and not make waves. When in Rome, do as the Romans.  Stupid is as stupid does. Well, there's a new sheriff in town. First off, most of the newly elected members ran on conservative principles. That was the message sent to Washington. When they arrived, the dinosaurs were still munching weeds in the swamp and completely missed that comet. Did you think they were all going to pack up their boyfriends and run to California? That tail had been wagging the dog so long the dog had mange! 

     The newly installed had to get their "legs." They had to learn everything from procedure to the quickest way to beat traffic and get to work. They had the conservative spirit, they just needed a "happening" guy to show them how to apply that spirit. Enter Ted Cruz! Under his direction the Republican majority will begin to feel their oats and exert the power they really have. And the spirit of conservatism is breaking out all over the country. The Indiana religious freedom law is a prime example. The Gays, who never miss an opportunity to wave their underwear for CNN, went into a feeding frenzy. Cakes still ain't getting baked, girls! Hey, I'm all for equality. Why don't you ladies stride into a biker bar in Houston and order up a beer. See how THAT works out for ya! 

     Liberty is malignant and  will become metastatic once it takes hold. The chemo of liberal thought won't help! Once the American people get used to the idea that consecrative values CAN be enforced there will be a virtual orgy of freedom breaking out. For years good, solid, conservative representatives have held back because they knew the power over in the Grand Mosque, I mean the White House, would just strike another executive order and shoot it all down. Well, how'd that last budget fare? Congress is talking BACK! The Republican senators who penned that letter to Iran told the truth, and now they are all cocked back getting ready to demonstrate that truth to a nation that has done nothing but lie since its conception. They want a nuclear weapon so bad, President Cruz will give 'em one! 

     Of course, their are those who will say Ted isn't eligible to run, but I think the abomination of the last six years have put that theory to rest, don't you? Obama can't even count the stars on Old Glory. Fifty-seven? And we KNOW he can't spell R E S P E C T! Obama portrayed himself as a constitutional lawyer. Ted Cruz IS a constitutional lawyer. AND he shows up for work! So, what do they attack next? Ted Cruise is a Christian, and they claim that means he thinks the world is six thousand years old. Obama tips his hat to Islam, where a Muslim cleric wanted the movie, "Gravity" pulled off the market because it showed the earth as round, and THAT offended Muslims! Swat them bees, swat them bees! Liberals go on and on about the separation of church and state while they pound every cockamamie Islamic illogic down our throats every day! I believe in the separation of church and state too, so why don't we put all the Muslims on a banana boat BACK to the Sahara?

     And his opponent? Hillary (I haven't told the truth since my mama's water broke) Clinton. The perfect storm. I'd be surprised if she didn't produce evidence proving she's just a little bit black. Heck, when you can blow up an American embassy and dump thirty thousand emails that would be no big trick at all. I'd like her to produce medical documents proving she's a WOMAN! You want to hear real black voices? Then you should listen to the Apostle Claver, John David Manning, and Herman Cain. VOTE, VOTE, VOTE! Let's give the liberals the thrashing they've had coming for YEARS. And liberals, there's still room on those banana boats!

      

Good Friday

                           CHAPTER THREE AS WE ARE 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 little lady'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, also, because they steered 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 make sure she moved. Mashing his hand into her nose and eyes, and giving a squeeze as he pushed. 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 cross-beam on his shoulders. She was stunned by the size of it. They weren't smooth at all, but rough and splintery. Great grooves run the length of the beams. Large iron rings were fastened to either end. Each of the three men were 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 full of 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, but it was 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 them. 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 that she'd thought. The cross beam had rested down into them. As the men pulled it off the 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 asked 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 cross beam 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 loin cloth that each one had, and 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 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 precutslot in his particular upright post which was already firmly planted into the ground. Then a soldier went to each and put a single nail through the overlapping feet.

     Then they threw all the possessions of the men on the ground, and 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 cross told him something, but she could not understand what it was. The man put his arms around the woman, and led her away down the rise.

     Hours passed. During all this time there was no letup 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 an poke them 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. Walking over to the center cross he thrust the sponge into the man's mouth!

Global Warming

     If you want to make a liberal mad just attack their religion. Now, liberal religion has many facets. Gay marriage, dead babies, food stamps, properly colored presidents, but the underlying truth that permeates it all is Global Warming! Oh my LIVING God! If you want to make a liberal want to buy a gun and shoot up the mall just suggest that mother earth is behaving just as she has for the last four BILLION freaking years! 

     Al Gore couldn't really make it as a politician, so he decided to take over the planet instead. Anyway,  he flies around in his private jet convincing all these potheads that the earth is changing into a huge microwave. But, you ask, what harm is he doing trying to alert us to something he really believes in? I mean, he really can't do squat about it, right? WRONG! While he can't change the temperature one degree he can certainly change your bank account. You see, in the global warming theory you must pay to play. Can't participate in the end of the world without a program! 

     I'm not going to get into all the "scientific" data supporting this Looney Tune, but I'd just like to point out a simple fact. Science, as opposed to religion, depends on observation. If you drop a ball to,the ground, and you can subsequently drop said ball twenty more times, you must reason that there must be some unseen force causing the ball to bounce. Voila! Gravity! Wanna know why the "theory" of evolution is still a theory? That's right, friends and neighbors, it's still a theory.  Well, that because there ain't no Neanderthals a sipping a Lateé down at the mall, that's why! You see, you gotta SEE it to prove it. 

     You can't prove Global Warming, or cooling from just a hundred years or so of weather reports. Is the earth changing. Why heck yeah! Does it all the time. The planet wobbles through space, chasing the sun, which is chasing the Milky Way,  which is chasing all the other results of the Big Bang as they all cork screw through the intergalactic playing field. We are barreling  skelter behind a huge hydrogen bomb, and Al Gore is trying to put a thermostat on it! And the call ME a simple ol' boy!

     But, all that doesn't make any difference to liberals bent on the end of days. Funny how people who don't believe in God put so much stock in Armageddon. And don't let California have a drought! DUDES! California IS a drought! Some very slick salesmen convinced a bunch of very gullible people that this desert was the "happening" place to be. So what we ended up with was a stretch of land that was never intended to support more than a few Mexicans and a hand full of crazy prospectors ramping up to a population of millions, and they're wondering where all the water went. Los Angeles NEVER had any water. They had to pipe it in! Fact, look it up! 

     In spite of his best efforts, Al Gore will not influence the natural history of planet earth. California had the warmest winter on record? Does SoCal even HAVE a winter? Anyway, Al Gore was the only one bummed out; everybody else got into it. But, the people of California don't have any water to drink. Then let them drink wine!