Tuesday - February 21, 2006

Biker Buddies

Reverend Fred Phelps is a piece of work. He and his congregation at the Westboro Baptist Church make the Democrats look positively sane. The man is a loon and it’s a wonder God hasn’t slapped a lightning bolt down on his ass yet.

What we’re talking about here is the polar opposite of the Liberals’ embracing of the homosexual lifestyle and ramming it down everyone’s throat. Phelps thinks homosexuals are evil and God is punishing us by killing US troops overseas because there are so many homosexuals in our country. I kid you not. I have never felt so alone, stuck in between these two groups of insane people. I object to the Liberals’ homosexual agenda but I positively detest Phelps.

I am glad to see there are decent people like the Patriot Guard Riders who are willing to stand up to Phelps and his miserable minions and shield the families of fallen heros from these madmen. I sometimes wonder if freedom of speech is worth having to put up with people like Phelps. There has to be a way to silence madmen like him without giving up our freedom to say what we want. In the good ol’ days there was. It was called “tar and feathers” and usually sufficed to keep the noise from jerks like Phelps down to a minimum.

Motorcyclists Roll to Soldier Funerals
February 21, 2006, 6:11 AM EST
FORT CAMPBELL, Ky. (AP)

Wearing vests covered in military patches, a band of motorcyclists rolls around the country from one soldier’s funeral to another, cheering respectfully to overshadow jeers from church protesters. They call themselves the Patriot Guard Riders, and they are more than 5,000 strong, forming to counter anti-gay protests held by the Rev. Fred Phelps at military funerals.

Phelps believes American deaths in Iraq are divine punishment for a country that he says harbors homosexuals. His protesters carry signs thanking God for so-called IEDs—explosives that are a major killer of soldiers in Iraq. The bikers shield the families of dead soldiers from the protesters, and overshadow the jeers with patriotic chants and a sea of red, white and blue flags.

“The most important thing we can do is let families know that the nation cares,” said Don Woodrick, the group’s Kentucky captain. “When a total stranger gets on a motorcycle in the middle of winter and drives 300 miles to hold a flag, that makes a powerful statement.” At least 14 states are considering laws aimed at the funeral protesters, who at a recent memorial service at Fort Campbell wrapped themselves in upside-down American flags. They danced and sang impromptu songs peppered with vulgarities that condemned homosexuals and soldiers.

The Patriot Guard was also there, waving up a ruckus of support for the families across the street. Community members came in the freezing rain to chant “U-S-A, U-S-A” alongside them. “This is just the right thing to do. This is something America didn’t do in the ‘70s,” said Kurt Mayer, the group’s national spokesman. “Whether we agree with why we’re over there, these soldiers are dying to protect our freedoms.”

Shirley Phelps-Roper, a daughter of Fred Phelps and an attorney for the Topeka, Kan.-based church, said neither state laws nor the Patriot Guard can silence their message that God killed the soldiers because they fought for a country that embraces homosexuals. “The scriptures are crystal clear that when God sets out to punish a nation, it is with the sword. An IED is just a broken-up sword,” Phelps-Roper said. “Since that is his weapon of choice, our forum of choice has got to be a dead soldier’s funeral.”

The church, Westboro Baptist Church, is not affiliated with a larger denomination and is made up mostly of Fred Phelps’ extended family members. During the 1990s, church members were known mostly for picketing the funerals of AIDS victims, and they have long been tracked as a hate group by the Montgomery, Ala.-based Southern Poverty Law Center’s Intelligence Project.

The project’s deputy director, Heidi Beirich, said other groups have tried to counter Phelps’ message, but none has been as organized as the Patriot Guard. “I’m not sure anybody has gone to this length to stand in solidarity,” she said. “It’s nice that these veterans and their supporters are trying to do something. I can’t imagine anything worse, your loved one is killed in Iraq and you’ve got to deal with Fred Phelps.”

Kentucky, home to sprawling Fort Campbell along the Tennessee line, was among the first states to attempt to deal with Phelps legislatively. Its House and Senate have each passed bills that would limit people from protesting within 300 feet of a funeral or memorial service. The Senate version would also keep protesters from being within earshot of grieving friends and family members.

Richard Wilbur, a retired police detective, said his Indiana Patriot Guard group only comes to funerals if invited by family. He said he has no problem with protests against the war but sees no place for objectors at a family’s final goodbye to a soldier. “No one deserves this,” he said.

On the Web:

Patriot Guard Riders: http://www.patriotguard.org

Posted by The Skipper     on 02/21/2006 at 06:45 AM   
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   Monday - February 20, 2006

Presidents Day

Today is a national holiday in which Americans celebrate two of the greatest Presidents this country had: George Washington and Abraham Lincoln. Both were born in February. Washington on the 22nd (actually the 11th under the old Julian calendar which the US used at that time but that’s another story) and Lincoln on the 12th.

In 1968, Congress passed the Uniform Holidays Act, which set aside the third Monday of February to honor both men. It is important to remember that Washington fought for the freedom of America and Lincoln fought for the freedom of all men in America. Since then, American Presidents have had to fight outside forces time and time again to keep us from being enslaved by madmen. Today is no exception. Remember ...

   

Posted by The Skipper     on 02/20/2006 at 08:56 AM   
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   Tuesday - October 18, 2005

The Wookie Is Now American

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away ....

‘Star Wars’ Actor Becomes U.S. Citizen
ARLINGTON, Texas (AP)

Best known as the furry Chewbacca in the “Star Wars” films, 7-foot-3 British actor Peter Mayhew is now a U.S. citizen. Mayhew softly recited the oath to become a naturalized American Monday, with his raised right hand trembling slightly. He was among more than 450 people from 56 countries who became naturalized Americans in a ceremony in Arlington.

“I’ll have a British passport, an American passport and a Wookiee passport,” joked the 60-year-old Mayhew, alluding to the interplanetary traveler from Kashyyyk he played. He first starred as Chewbacca in 1977’s “Star Wars.” Mayhew autographed dozens of fabric U.S. flags and citizenship packets before the ceremony and posed with immigration officials afterward.

The former English hospital worker said he decided to seek American citizenship when he got married “to a Texan lady.” Mayhew and his wife wed six years ago. His wife, Angelique, was beside him, with a drawing depicting Chewbacca, a background of the American flag and Union Jack and the words “Citizen Wookiee.” “Well it was a natural thing being married to a Texan,” said Mayhew, wearing black slacks and jacket. “I wanted to become an American because Texas is an integral part of America, its lifestyle.”

In most cases, an immigrant must be a legal permanent resident for five years before becoming a citizen. The wait is three years if the person marries a U.S. citizen. Candidates also must pass history, English and civics exams. “You have to do obviously some research, but the questions are easy enough if you think about them,” Mayhew said of his citizenship test, adding that he picked up much of his knowledge of American history and culture over more than a decade of living in the U.S.

Mayhew was born in Barnes, England, and now lives in Granbury, Texas, southwest of Fort Worth. He makes appearances at science fiction conventions around the country. His film career was launched in 1977 when he played the role of the Minotaur in “Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger.” He had been working as an orderly at London’s King’s College Hospital when he was featured in a newspaper article about men with large feet, which caught the eye of the movie’s producers.

Posted by The Skipper     on 10/18/2005 at 07:17 AM   
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   Sunday - September 11, 2005

The Day The Music Died

The following is a reprint of the award-winning essay from our “Memories Of 9/11 Essay Contest” held in the Spring of 2004. The author is Dawn Gale Prince and our readers here decided her essay best described how we all felt on that day, four long years ago ....

The summer of 2001 has just ended, and fall hangs thickly in the air threatening to take away the innocence of the summer which is still clinging to September. This Tuesday morning begins like any other day. It is September 11 and, it holds no particular meaning for me. Nothing’s marked on my calendar. I open up the supermarket and greet the odd customer on this bright, unimposing morning. The Toronto radio station plays that top 40 morning repetitious easy listening music. I groan at hearing yet another Celine Dion or Mariah Carey song--what ever is the hit of the moment. We are carrying out the mundane morning duties of readying for the day’s business when a customer walks in and says that a plane has hit the World Trade Center in New York. “It is probably nothing-you know the media…” he says on his way out. It is just after nine o’clock.

His words are barely cold in the air when the song on the radio is interrupted with a bulletin that confirms the skeptical customer’s news. There isn’t much detail. I think that maybe a small plane has veered off course. It is then confirmed that it is a passenger plane, and my mind reacts like the terrified flyer that I am--wondering about what must have gone through the passengers’ minds as they crashed. Those poor people, their family. Last minute calls. These things happen. It is still that ordinary everyday reaction you have when you hear of a plane crash. Again, the music ends abruptly: another plane has crashed into the Trade Center . The mood in the supermarket goes from nonchalant to tense. The queasy feeling that something horrible is unfolding begins to form in the pit of my stomach. I say horrible, but I don’t know what it is. I think mad men or high-jackers. We hang onto every word from the radio. Planes are missing--high-jacked in the air; airspace being locked down. The news keeps coming in like that…piling pieces of the puzzle into the jumble faster than one has a chance to catch his breath. It is now evident that the simple plane crash theory is something more urgent. Something more sinister is in the air.

It has to be personal. The World Trade Center--a symbol of America--as much as Lady Liberty--attacked on its own turf. Presumptuous and pointed. World War III comes to mind. Some crazy bastard must have pushed the button somewhere and some kind of war has started. Something big is happening, and I feel immobilized because the reasons for the catastrophe are unknown. The play by play on the radio is flat because what the DJ is saying just seems so unbelievable. I can’t paint a picture in my head because her words seem unremarkable as she describes in this monotone radio voice about the havoc and chaos that is taking place in the American airspace. She relates what she sees on television and it sounds spectacular…110 story inferno...the way they used that word spectacular to describe a horrible inferno on the television. I always thought that it was an odd word to use…the kind of word you would use to describe a sporting event. But, what she is saying cannot be described in any other way, but spectacular. The estimation that there may be as many as 50,000 people in the tower is a blow to my senses. I can’t imagine that. I can’t compute or comprehend those numbers that represents somebody’s life.

People pour into the supermarket like they have to get out of the house and tell someone the horror they have just witnessed to make it real for them. It is like a movie, they keep saying. Just when I am getting over the shock of the crashing planes, news of the first Trade Center tower collapse blindsides me like a blow to the gut. I imagine a 110 story tower collapsing with over 50, 000 people inside. I lose all track of time as it all seems muddled in no particular order. My mind can’t separate any of it. I can’t isolate the horror and make it real for my mind. My head is full of warbled words--words that don’t quite form the pictures because they are so outlandish. I think this is what it may have been like during World Wars I and II where people sat around listening to the radio--waiting for news--hearing gossip, innuendos. But, the radio alone can’t make it real for my brain. I have to see it for myself. I live across the street from the supermarket and so, I take my break.

Inside my apartment, the sun illuminates the dust that’s settled on my television screen. I think: I have to dust, and turn on NBC just in time to see the second tower crumble like a block of Leggo’s. It stuns my brain. My hand goes over my mouth in an audible gasp. I think I am going to have an asthma attack. Quietly, the tears come and seep through closed fingers as I try to catch my breath. I want to tell somebody, but I am frozen, glued to the floor in my summer sandals…and watch in slow-motion as New York disintegrates into nothingness right before my eyes. It looks like an implosion that is deliberately calculated. I am ringing my hands and wailing, “oh, my God, oh my God” in rasping breath as I watch the replay of the second tower collapse. I imagine frantic calls to loved ones before the towers were pushed to their deaths swallowing innocent lives in its gaping belly. I imagine claustrophobic breathing in crowded stairwells. I imagine trains of thought of the desperate--their life and times flashing before their eyes--finally coming to terms that this may be the end. I imagine the end.

This is surreal. Torrid waves of emotions shake my body. I feel scared, horror, shock, helpless, sad and then angry. I cry for all those people. I am angry at no one in particular, but at man’s inhumanity to man. My heart is broken. In my innocence, I somehow, naively, expect more from human beings. My knees shake. I am terrified. The workers from the tall buildings in downtown Toronto are being sent home, and there is fear of Canada being attacked. With the uncertainty of what is going on and who is behind it, this fear is real for me. Television makes it real for us. You don’t have to be in New York to experience the terror or the anger. It isn’t only America ‘s tragedy, but a universal feeling of sadness and anger. Damn them for making us realize our vulnerability. Damn them for sneaking up on us and blindsiding us. Damn them for not looking us in the eye when they stole our innocence. But, who is “them”?

And maybe it is naiveté or innocence on my part--our part, but the idea of terrorism never enters my mind. Terrorism in the broader sense--the foreign concept of suicide bombers is so outrageous in this part of the world. And yet, terrorism on American soil is not foreign. Timothy Mcveigh is home grown terrorism. To be honest, the Trade Center bombing in 1993 has faded from my memory. How many people know that five suspects were each given 240 years for that first attack that killed six people? Our innocence and complacency would not let us believe that that kind of thing can happens in these parts. That happens in somebody else’s backyard. Not on the streets of New York . Not on an ordinary Tuesday morning.

But terrorism has come home. New York looks like a war zone. The towers collapse and explode in a burst of white dust--a mushroom cloud of dust that seem to chase terrified people as they try to outrun it to safe ground. It looks like they are racing against a twister. Unrecognizable ghost-like faces and hair aged eerily white with dust and debris. They look like zombies stumbling around--ghosts of themselves roaming the once bustling streets of New York City--a skeletal city full of holes and broken down people. The white dust makes it all eerie. It looks like a make-believe movie set with extras playing the part of feigned horror as they run through the streets. Only no one could write or feign that kind of horror. It reminds of some goddamn Godzilla attacking America movie or some inferno move where Roger Ebert gives the special effects a thumb’s up. This is bigger than a 20 million dollar production. Ladies and gentlemen, this is not a test. People are fleeing the city in droves--like survivors of war--the mushroom cloud of dust eerily reminiscent of a nuclear cloud. The frame of thousands walking in quiet stupor as they make their way over that bridge on their way out of New York isolates the numbness of this day.

It is all surreal, and amidst all the jagged juxtapositions of whirring sounds and surreal sights--I see unscarred sheets of office paper floating in the midst of disaster--soaring above the dust that rises from the ashes of a city to land ever so gently, in a whisper-- in the rubble of what used to be. Confetti falling--raining down on the streets of New York--the fleeing throng leaving trampled foot prints on perfect paper. Then, the camera pulls back; replaying, rewinding to the moments before the second tower tumbles down, and a small figure tumbles out a window--and another. Maybe, my eyes are playing tricks…all this is television special effects. But, then the voice over says people are jumping out of buildings to their deaths. I imagine terrified hearts and quiet, desperate goodbyes. Frantic telephone calls to loved ones. Terrified of heights, I imagine the horror of having to make that decision. And, I think about the perfect white paper floating and landing ever so gently in a whisper--not with a thud like those flailing, falling bodies--clawing their way at nothingness--trying to hold onto something to save themselves from the confines of the towering inferno. I stand open-mouthed, wondering about the thud the bodies make when they make contact with the cement. The sound in my ear is deafening, but it is all I can hear in my mind--the thud of the bodies as the paper lands ever so gently.

As day fades, I remember the events in frames--frozen moments in time--etched in my mind like faded dog-eared memories. Sounds...whirring desperate sounds. Faces. Father Michael F. Judge--a chaplain with the City of New York Fire Department at the scene and then hearing he has died in the second tower collapse. It brings home the abruptness of what has happened. He is there one minute, and then he is gone just like the buildings are there and then gone--leaving gaping holes in the skyline--as if somebody has erased the buildings. This day is not something you can erase. The skyline is missing a piece of its glitter when night envelopes New York City. Night casts an ugly shadow on this devastated city. And you think about the people on the planes, and in the towers as you make contact with your loved ones. Night makes you remember those who aren’t coming home, and those who are waiting eagerly for word on those who did not come home.

By night fall, the reality of the day sinks in as we know more than when this ordinary Tuesday began. The Pentagon has been attacked, the final plane crashes in Philadelphia , and we are all shaking our heads at the carnage left behind. After watching in numb awe, hours and hours of repetitious footage of the most unbelievable spectacular event I have ever witnessed, I allow myself to turn out the lights. I think about how the world has changed in a split second--how the innocence was stolen from under our noses by men with hatred in their hearts. Laying in the dark, I think about the summer. It is comforting thinking about the warm summer. I think about the summer that we are just leaving behind along with our innocence. The day has been emotionally exhausting and sleep comes before the tears dry on my cheeks.

Dawn breaks and the nightmare is real. The line in the American national anthem comes to mind: “Oh, say can you see, by the dawn’s early light, what so proudly we hailed at the twilight’s last gleaming.” At the twilights last gleaming--before the devastation-- New York City stood proudly, her towers soaring. Now, it looks like a ghost town--full of holes--void of any sort of life--it is as if New York is obliterated and the streets have an eerie air of abandonment. It looks defeated, deflated, devastated. The quiet is deafening, and in your head you can hear echoes of hollow voices and clapping footsteps, but it is only what you remember of New York . Dust to dust. Ashes to ashes. The smoke from the burning collapsed towers is still smoldering--rising up slowly--phoenix rising from the ashes--symbolic of a nation that will slowly rise up--tears falling on tired cheeks; teeth gritting; fists pumping; flag waving; the American might a little tattered, but still unwavering as they regroup in resounding echoes of:

“...’Tis the star-spangled banner! Oh long may it wave
O’er the land of the free and home of the brave!”

And, over the next few days, we become familiar with the names of ordinary men and women who are held up as heroes. People helping their fellow man. Corporate America working along side the blue collar regular guy: firefighters, emergency workers. Over the next few days, the human spirit rises up and reclaims man’s natural humanity towards man. New Yorkers rise up and take back their city in memory of their fallen angels--all 3000 of them. And, we become familiar with the evil that exists in the hearts of men. We learn names like Osama Bin Laden and Al-Qaeda. We become familiar with a new world. The page has turned to a new chapter in history.

But, it isn’t only America’s soul that is attacked on Tuesday September 11, 2001, but the psyche of an entire world. It isn’t only America’s sorrow, but a world in mourning. A world in mourning of wasted life--of somebody’s brother, somebody mother, somebody’s sister, somebody’s neighbour--somebody who simply went to work on an ordinary Tuesday morning and didn’t come home. It isn’t only America’s innocence that is stolen on a September morning that begins so ordinarily. Collectively--all of our souls die a little, and maybe, we are still waiting for the rebirth of ourselves.

Posted by The Skipper     on 09/11/2005 at 01:00 AM   
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   Friday - September 09, 2005

A Nice Story

I generally don’t like posting anecdotal stories, but this one sounds pretty legit.  Besides, we need some feel-good now and again.

Herc Driver’s Report on Katrina Rescue Ops

I just returned from New Orleans on a hurricane relief mission in the C-130.

Let me just start by saying I was awed. Not in what I saw in destruction and devastation because I had/have already seen enough of that on TV. What really hit me hard was the absolute determination and willingness of all those involved in the relief effort. I just want to quickly tell you what I was a part of and what I witnessed as it just really filled me with pride and reminded me again why we are such an amazing and successful country.

It started when I showed up for the flight in Nashville. Instead of the flight planning I would normally do (the other pilot did it), I was tasked to call all 60 or so of the pilots from the 105th Airlift Squadron (my squadron) and find out their availability to fly hurricane relief missions.

Now, don’t forget these are all Air National Guard men and women and most all have full time jobs outside of flying for the Guard. Almost without exception, every pilot offered whatever assistance was needed. No surprise.

As they say, go read the rest.
(posted on the “Professional Pilots Rumor Network")

Posted by Drew458     on 09/09/2005 at 06:59 AM   
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   Saturday - September 03, 2005

Give!

I have agreed to run a pro bono ad for the next few weeks for Mercy Corps. See link in the right sidebar. I have checked out Mercy Corps and they do good work. Plus they spend 92 cents of every dollar on actual aid.

I have begged in the past for donations from you folks to help support this blog and you always came through like champions. Now I am begging for someone else. Please click over there and donate what you can spare. If not, go to the Salvation Army’s web site. I’ll try to list some other decent organizations to help send aid to the stricken Gulf Coast region. If any of you have links, throw them at me in the comments. I’ll post them up front here.

God bless you all! Thanks!

From Revandryn: There is a site dedicated to monitoring charities and they keep information on how money is spent. Go to http://www.guidestar.org (registration - free - required) to get the best information on where to send donations.

Skipper Update From Tupelo, MS On A Freakin’ Dial-Up Line:

Technorati Flood Aid

Instapundit List Of Bloggers & Charities

Posted by The Skipper     on 09/03/2005 at 04:27 AM   
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   Wednesday - July 27, 2005

Good News Story Of The Day

My, oh my! I find all kinds of good things in this story. Mexican immigrants join the military to give something back to their new country and are rewarded with citizenship - and even better, they get to take the oath of citizenship in one of Saddam Hussein’s grand palaces. There are good Mexicans and there are bad MESS-CANS. The good ones understand how America works and end up like this with full citizenship, an education under the GI Bill, veteran’s benefits and much more. The bad ones end up bringing crime with them, leeching off the system, working crap jobs for dirt cheap wages and eventual deportation. Congratulations to these new citizens. Feel free to prop your feet up on Saddam’s furniture and drink up his beer. You’ve earned it ....

BAGHDAD (AFP) - Omar Hernandez, his combat boots covered in a fine coat of sand from the battle front, had difficulty believing that he took his oath of US citizenship inside one of Saddam Hussein’s former palaces. “It’s like a dream,” said Hernandez, a native of Jalisco, Mexico. Then he gazed around the marble columns in the rotunda hall. “A lot of money was spent on this,” he marveled. On a recent weekday Hernandez and 146 other US military personnel raised their right hand and swore to “support and defend the constitution and laws of the United States of America” in the Al-Faw palace on the outskirts of Baghdad.

The marble-floor rotunda is some 50 meters (yards) in diameter, under a vast crystal chandelier the size of a Volkswagen Beetle that hangs from the dome roof. “Welcome into that exclusive club called American citizenship,” Lieutenant General John Vines told the group at the citizenship ceremony. Three officials from the naturalization branch of the US Department of Homeland Security were also present, along with a 30-man army brass band, complete with trombones, tubas and a large drum.

The personnel—soldiers, sailors, and airmen, along with one marine and a navy medic—were brought in from different parts of Iraq specially for the event. The few civilians not wearing desert camouflage uniforms stood out. Officers and troops, many with M-16 rifles slung over their shoulders, stood in attendance and cheered. Sergeant Jimmy Soto, 29, a native of Guadalajara, Mexico, said he was going to call his parents and surprise them with the news of his citizenship. “This was a very nice ceremony.”

When Soto is out on an urban patrol many Iraqis “are often surprised when I lower my scarf and they see my face,” he said, commenting on his olive skin. Military officials require recruits to be permanent US residents to join the military, but citizenship is not a requirement. There are 45,000 non-US citizens currently serving in the US military, said Linda Dougherty, one of the US government officials at the event.

Those sworn in as US citizens came from 46 countries, with the single largest group born in Mexico (27), followed by the Philippines (15) and Jamaica (nine). Overall 70 of the new US citizens came from Latin American countries, including Nicaragua (eight), Dominican Republic (five), Colombia and Honduras (four each), and even Peru and Cuba. The figures reflect US population trends, where the Hispanic population has reached 41 million people, the largest racial minority among the country’s 296 million residents. Soldiers at the event also came from China, India, Taiwan and Vietnam. There was even one Iraqi-born soldier.

Posted by The Skipper     on 07/27/2005 at 11:41 AM   
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   Monday - July 04, 2005

Happy Fourth !

Posted by The Skipper     on 07/04/2005 at 07:53 AM   
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New Kid In Town

_{Gary Varvel, Indiana—The Indianapolis Star-News}

Posted by The Skipper     on 07/04/2005 at 07:05 AM   
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What July Fourth Means To Me

For one who was born and grew up in the small towns of the Midwest, there is a special kind of nostalgia about the Fourth of July.

I remember it as a day almost as long-anticipated as Christmas. This was helped along by the appearance in store windows of all kinds of fireworks and colorful posters advertising them with vivid pictures.

No later than the third of July – sometimes earlier – Dad would bring home what he felt he could afford to see go up in smoke and flame. We’d count and recount the number of firecrackers, display pieces and other things and go to bed determined to be up with the sun so as to offer the first, thunderous notice of the Fourth of July.

I’m afraid we didn’t give too much thought to the meaning of the day. And, yes, there were tragic accidents to mar it, resulting from careless handling of the fireworks. I’m sure we’re better off today with fireworks largely handled by professionals. Yet there was a thrill never to be forgotten in seeing a tin can blown 30 feet in the air by a giant “cracker” – giant meaning it was about 4 inches long.

But enough of nostalgia. Somewhere in our growing up we began to be aware of the meaning of days and with that awareness came the birth of patriotism. July Fourth is the birthday of our nation. I believed as a boy, and believe even more today, that it is the birthday of the greatest nation on earth.

There is a legend about the day of our nation’s birth in the little hall in Philadelphia, a day on which debate had raged for hours. The men gathered there were honorable men hard-pressed by a king who had flouted the very laws they were willing to obey. Even so, to sign the Declaration of Independence was such an irretrievable act that the walls resounded with the words “treason, the gallows, the headsman’s axe,” and the issue remained in doubt.

The legend says that at that point a man rose and spoke. He is described as not a young man, but one who had to summon all his energy for an impassioned plea. He cited the grievances that had brought them to this moment and finally, his voice falling, he said, “They may turn every tree into a gallows, every hole into a grave, and yet the words of that parchment can never die. To the mechanic in the workshop, they will speak hope; to the slave in the mines, freedom. Sign that parchment. Sign if the next moment the noose is around your neck, for that parchment will be the textbook of freedom, the Bible of the rights of man forever.”

He fell back exhausted. The 56 delegates, swept up by his eloquence, rushed forward and signed that document destined to be as immortal as a work of man can be. When they turned to thank him for his timely oratory, he was not to be found, nor could any be found who knew who he was or how he had come in or gone out through the locked and guarded doors.

Well, that is the legend. But we do know for certain that 56 men, a little band so unique we have never seen their like since, had pledged their lives, their fortunes and their sacred honor. Some gave their lives in the war that followed, most gave their fortunes, and all preserved their sacred honor.

What manner of men were they? Twenty-four were lawyers and jurists, 11 were merchants and tradesmen, and nine were farmers. They were soft-spoken men of means and education; they were not an unwashed rabble. They had achieved security but valued freedom more. Their stories have not been told nearly enough.

John Hart was driven from the side of his desperately ill wife. For more than a year he lived in the forest and in caves before he returned to find his wife dead, his children vanished, his property destroyed. He died of exhaustion and a broken heart.

Carter Braxton of Virginia lost all his ships, sold his home to pay his debts, and died in rags. And so it was with Ellery, Clymer, Hall, Walton, Gwinnett, Rutledge, Morris, Livingston and Middleton.

Nelson personally urged Washington to fire on his home and destroy it when it became the headquarters for General Cornwallis. Nelson died bankrupt.

But they sired a nation that grew from sea to shining sea. Five million farms, quiet villages, cities that never sleep, 3 million square miles of forest, field, mountain and desert, 227 million people with a pedigree that includes the bloodlines of all the world.

In recent years, however, I’ve come to think of that day as more than just the birthday of a nation.

It also commemorates the only true philosophical revolution in all history.

Oh, there have been revolutions before and since ours. But those revolutions simply exchanged one set of rules for another. Ours was a revolution that changed the very concept of government.

Let the Fourth of July always be a reminder that here in this land, for the first time, it was decided that man is born with certain God-given rights; that government is only a convenience created and managed by the people, with no powers of its own except those voluntarily granted to it by the people.

We sometimes forget that great truth, and we never should.

Happy Fourth of July.

Ronald Reagan
President of the United States
July 4, 1981

Posted by Ronald Reagan's Ghost     on 07/04/2005 at 04:00 AM   
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   Sunday - July 03, 2005

Final Exam

OK, all you American citizens out there. Time to put your money where your mouth is. Here are twenty-five questions that are on the US Citizenship Examination for new immigrants. If you can’t answer at least 60% of them correctly, please pack up your belongings and go back to the country where your ancestors came from. Answers are here ....

• According to the Constitution, a person must meet certain requirements in order to be eligible to become President. Name one of these requirements.
• Why are there 100 Senators in the Senate?
• Who selects the Supreme Court justice?
• How many Supreme Court justice are there?
• Why did the Pilgrims come to America?
• What is the head executive of a state government called?
• What is the head executive of a city government called?
• What holiday was celebrated for the first time by the Americans colonists?
• Who was the main writer of the Declaration of Independence?
• When was the Declaration of Independence adopted?
• What is the basic belief of the Declaration of Independence?
• What is the national anthem of the United States?
• Who wrote the Star-Spangled Banner?
• Where does freedom of speech come from?
• What is a minimum voting age in the United States?
• Who signs bills into law?
• What is the highest court in the United States?
• Who was the President during the Civil War?
• What did the Emancipation Declaration do?
• What special group advises the President?
• Which President is called the “Father of our country”?
• What Immigration and Naturalization Service form is used to apply to become a naturalized citizen?
• Who helped the Pilgrims in America?
• What is the name of the ship that brought the Pilgrims to America?
• What are the 13 original states of the U.S. called?
• Name 3 rights of freedom guaranteed by the Bill of Rights.
• Who has the power to declare the war?
• What kind of government does the United States have?
• Which President freed the slaves?
• In what year was the Constitution written?

Note: For ten points extra credit, tell me which four of these questions are boogered up crap inserted by the liberal, historical revisionists at the INS.

Posted by The Skipper     on 07/03/2005 at 04:02 PM   
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   Wednesday - June 29, 2005

Revised Freedom Tower To Be Unveiled Today

It will be 1,776 feet high, which will make it the tallest in the world. I think they finally got it right .... now BUILD THAT SON OF A GUN and be sure to mount the anti-aircraft batteries on all four sides. And hang a sign on the side facing Mecca that reads ”GO AHEAD - MAKE MY DAY.”

The revised design for the Freedom Tower will soar to 1,776 feet in the sky and serve as an inspirational and enduring beacon in the New York City skyline. The Tower’s design evokes classic New York skyscrapers in its elegance and symmetry while also referencing the torch of the Statue of Liberty.

The revised Freedom Tower builds upon the original’s extraordinary level of life safety features and will include other features that will make it unprecedented in terms of life safety and security. In addition, the Freedom Tower will further its distinction as a world-class model of energy efficiency and environmental sustainability.

As part of the new design, the tower’s footprint, measuring 200 feet by 200 feet, is the same size as the footprints of the original Twin Towers. As the tower itself rises from its cubic base, its square edges are chamfered back, transforming the square into eight tall isosceles triangles in elevation. At its middle, the tower forms a perfect octagon in plan and then culminates in an observation deck and glass parapet (elevation 1,362 feet and 1,368 feet – the heights of the original Twin Towers). A mast containing an antenna, designed by a collaboration of architects, artists, lighting designers and engineers, and secured by a system of cables, rises from a circular support ring, similar to Liberty’s torch, to a height of 1,776 feet. In keeping with the original design, the entire composition evokes the Statue of Liberty’s torch and will emit light, becoming its own Beacon of Freedom.

Posted by The Skipper     on 06/29/2005 at 08:56 AM   
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   Thursday - June 23, 2005

No More Flag Burning ?

The House passed a Constitutional Amendment yesterday to make flag burning illegal (actually all it does is give Congress the power to prohibit flag burning). The ACLU is already lobbying against it and the Hildabeast thinks flag desecration should be illegal but doesn’t think we need a Constitutional Amendment to do it (waffle-waffle) ....

A constitutional amendment that would allow Congress to ban flag burning passed the House yesterday, and congressional leaders said it has a strong chance to clear the Senate for the first time, sending it to the states for ratification.

The House has passed the measure four times before, but it has always fallen short of the two-thirds vote needed in the Senate. But changes in the Senate’s makeup shifted several votes to the bill’s supporters, and a lobbyist who leads the opposition said the absence of one or two senators could mean that the measure would pass.

“There are too many scenarios where we lose,” said Terri Ann Schroeder, senior lobbyist for the American Civil Liberties Union. “We’re very concerned.” Schroeder counts 65 solid votes in favor of the amendment of the 67 needed for passage if everyone votes. “We still have a number of folks that have never voted, and we still have a potential problem if 100 members do not vote,” she said.

Senate Judiciary Committee Chairman Arlen Specter (R-Pa.) favors the measure and plans to hold a hearing shortly after the Fourth of July break, Republican aides said. Senate Majority Leader Bill Frist (R-Tenn.) could schedule a floor vote as soon as next month, the aides said.

Specter plans to let Sen. Orrin G. Hatch (R-Utah), a former chairman of the committee and longtime champion of the measure, preside over the hearing. Hatch said he believes the measure will pass and said he is motivated by relatives who have died in combat. “I think acts of flag desecration are offensive conduct we ought to ban in the interest of protecting the greatest symbol of our country,” Hatch said.

Among the new votes for the amendment is Sen. John Thune (R-S.D.), who pushed the issue in his campaign and helped recruit co-sponsors. “Out in the country, at the grass-roots level, it’s seen as a common man’s practical patriotism,” Thune said.

Another freshman, Sen. Barack Obama (D-Ill.), will oppose the measure, aides said.

Sen. Hillary Rodham Clinton (D-N.Y.) said in a statement that she would “support federal legislation that would outlaw flag desecration, much like laws that currently prohibit the burning of crosses, but I don’t believe a constitutional amendment is the answer.”

The House measure passed 286 to 130. Republicans were almost entirely for it, 209 to 12. Democrats were not as united in their opposition, with 117 against the measure and 77 for it. House Judiciary Chairman F. James Sensenbrenner Jr. (R-Wis.) said during the debate that lawmakers “must act with bipartisan dispatch to ensure that this issue is returned to the hands of those most interested in preserving freedom—the people themselves.”

The measure would have to be ratified by 38 states to become part of the Constitution.

109th CONGRESS
1st Session
H. J. RES. 10
JOINT RESOLUTION

Proposing an amendment to the Constitution of the United States authorizing the Congress to prohibit the physical desecration of the flag of the United States.

Resolved by the Senate and House of Representatives of the United States of America in Congress assembled (two-thirds of each House concurring therein), That the following article is proposed as an amendment to the Constitution of the United States, which shall be valid to all intents and purposes as part of the Constitution when ratified by the legislatures of three-fourths of the several States within seven years after the date of its submission for ratification:

Article --

‘The Congress shall have power to prohibit the physical desecration of the flag of the United States.’.

Passed the House of Representatives June 22, 2005.

Posted by The Skipper     on 06/23/2005 at 09:57 AM   
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   Tuesday - June 14, 2005

Guess What Today Is ….

Posted by The Skipper     on 06/14/2005 at 07:44 AM   
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It's been a long strange trip without you Skipper, but thanks for pointing us in the right direction and giving us a swift kick in the behind to get us going. Keep lookin' down on us, will ya? Thanks.

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