Monthly Archives: May 2009
Dr. George Tiller was shot by a killer of abortion docs. He was an usher in his church. He was not an ordinary abortion doc, if there is such a thing, but the kind that did the henious late-term type where they smash the skull of the newborn and pull it out with forceps…yup that kind of doc. He dead now.
The shooter got away. But a suspect is in custody. It took place in Kansas but there has been growing call in other states to boycott hospitals that allow these types of procedures. I’ve had an abortion in my life and I don’t have to admit it. But it was the first 6 weeks.
I believe in abortion because being young, black and alone with children to feed and not a living soul to help you but yourself is a dreadful feeling. Even taking birth control is not a solution. So, it’s just about abstinence which is hard to do. I tried that too, everything fails when your fertile but abortion!
Simon Cowl said it was perfect a 10 and the audience went wild and they won the popular vote and the contest. Had to be there I guess.
Britain’s got bad taste more like it. Susan Boyle was sucker punched and lost out to a dime-a-dozen dance group with diversity on tap. UK link has lots of photos and the NEWS of Susan Boyle. The name of the group was actually Diversity. I did watch the video link above of the winning dance. It was powerful, they’re bad ass can be.
Susan will probably go on to make millions though. If I had been watching it, it’s in Britain, I think I would have predicted that she would not win simply because her popularity was decreasing amid the F-bombs and the finger pointing with the middle finger. She lost, get over it Susan because you are a winner with that voice.
I predict that she WILL sing for the Queen one day soon.
I was teaching a lesson on physics and forces. And used my cat as the example. He did what I explained and died. He fell off the roof of the garage after chasing one of the squirrels into the opening near the top.
I found him a day or so later where he had hit his little head on the pavers below. If I had not been going to the garage I would not have found him. I just had the urge to cut a small patch of grass so I went to get the lawn mower just for that. Was Reba calling me?
Just the other day, I was standing in almost the exact spot where the black bag lay in the street and I looked down and saw a black and white kitten marked just as Reba had been, only longer hair and cuter. I squealed with delight and picked her up.
Where did she come from? She just appeared in the street and under a man’s truck I was talking to. Never mind that, my other cat had died a few months ago that and I had a neighbor across the street pick him up and put him in a bag and lay him at the curb as the city people told me to do. They came along and picked him up ASAP.
Two days later I found that the same neighbor who put Reba in the bag owned the little reborn Reba too. They said I could have her. I was delighted because I thought someone had stolen her while I was away. But now all is well I keep her in the garage until she gets used to things the yard and the big front porch, while watching all the birds feeding and me throwing rocks and stones like a game of boules with just as great precision as before.
People are reborn so why not pets? How did this little kitten appear to me in the street no less, walking up to me after hearing the sound of my voice when I did not even know it was alive? I think it was Reba come back.
Roman went there. And as the saying goes when in Roman do as the Roman does. And he does a lot. He says that all men want young girls. Really, as young as 13? As drugged and drunk as you got that one? In prison as you were supposed to be?
The film Roman Polanski: Wanted and Desired is out on DVD, it is also an instant watch for me on Netflix. What this man did was a crime, but he did not suffer the 15-year prison sentence other non-Romans would have suffered. Instead, he drove to Dino de Laurentis’ home in Beverly Hills after his mere 42-day incarceration, left, got a flight out of LAX to gay Paris never to return to the States again.
From there he did the Pianist, which was important because he like the pianist in the true story of the same book name, survived the Polish ghetto and Hitler’s many death and work camps literally shovel ready for Jewish bodies.
What Roman did is what devil worshippers often do. He even made a movie about his fascination with evil Rosemary’s Baby. It made him famous and Sharon Tate a target for Manson who wanted to start a race war. Manson failed at the race war but succeeded in his horrific crime.
Roman makes his home in Paris he was born in Paris and speaks French fluently, what else. We don’t want him, but you might want to see this documentary, it’s telling.
A Chinese grad student studiously cut off the head of another student inside au bon pain at a va university.
An employee witnessed it and in court the killer was calm!
Sixty-five million years ago a giant asteroid hit the planet and the dinosaurs were destroyed as one theory goes. It blackened the sky and hid the light from the sun for hundreds of years and nothing could survive that, not even the big guys with tough leathery skin and no competition except each other.
Fast forward to post-Web materialism and the I-want-something-for-nothing-and-nothing-for-something crowd–you want it all. The demands of the Web lurkers brook no competition. Here is the new hide made of old leathery skins.
Writers who forge sentence fragments. Frango-ments which are super-glued together like the moon of Uranus, which offer the non-book print reading world a kaleidoscope of good reads for freaking nothing!
How can books in print compete with that?
I am keeping my library in good order because it is appreciating by the day. Precious books that are no longer in print are worth their weight in gold. These are the new dinosaurs. They have good strong bones and sharp white teeth. These fossil remains can command hundreds of dollars if we just let them sit in the sheltering sky a bit longer.
How about future authors, writers and book publishers who now have lots of competition for dwindling paper lovers and attention deficit disorder fixers? I hope it gets better for the few.
While on the treadmill at the Y I was watching a Nancy Grace breaking story. It was a dad who likely killed his wife and two sons. They were strangled and the wife was found naked face down in the bed. The dad claims that he was getting threatening notes about his religion and death threats.
But that’s it. No postmark, no sender, no nothing. The scene has been described in detail by the police complete with a can of red spray paint, a Home Depot receipt and writing on the walls and all over the place done with this red spray paint. Hand writing experts are looking at the note, or letter and comparing it with the writing on the wall. They will read THE (literal) writing on the wall and use it to convict the man they arrested today — the husband!
Nancy thinks the husband did it. My way of putting it is simple: when a wife goes missing or dies conveniently then look for the doating husband. Whatever happened to divorce as a solution?
If you are too young to be familiar with the book Fatal Vision or the movie, watch it and read it, they too are fascinating.
The breaking news is that today Chris Coleman pleaded not guilty to the murders. But if he wrote the letters to fingerpoint some mysterious killers in a blonde wig and a mean “kill the pigs” script, then it was premeditated and death penalty worthy.
Jack Cahill I lack your prose but I share your concern and thesis that Barack Obama did not write Dreams From My Father 100%, sans aide, sans Bill Ayers.
The thesis is simple enough: Bill Ayers served as Barack Obama’s muse in the creation of Obama’s 1995 memoir, Dreams From My Father. Ayers breathed creative life into this ungifted amateur, who had written nothing of note before, and reconceived him as a literary prodigy.
I too have a copy of Prairie Fire found hid away in another book and recently republished. I also have Dreams From My Father. And the interesting thing is that I too found Ayers to be one of the best damn writers ever, period.
When I have time this summer I will share snippets from both books. Cahill quotes research about it taking 10,000 hours of practice on one thing to master that task. Cahill states that Obama lacks like 99,000 hours of writing somewhere along the way.
Writing is a craft that must be practiced every day. And usually writers are, well writers. They want to write, it is an art a craft a hunger for them and with them. One does not write a blockbuster and walk away from it and from writing. However, that seems to be what Obama has done.
He is a moving speaker no doubt. But when he acts as his own wordsmith, we can tell. The cracks in the prose are as wide as the Grand Canyon.
Cahill does a better job than I on this thing. But it saddens me that it is likely true. I will find the link to his Web site where all his essay can be found. The link provided is from American Thinker and has many of his essays.
But Gore Vidal, a Jewish relative of Al Gore, and in-law to Jackie Kennedy, was gay, way gay. And he admitted to being turned on by Jack’s great ass, even after he became JFK. Yup that’s what he said. But by Jack’s own admission he did not have big deal down there. But he had a big itch that he needed to scratch sans wait.
Having a bunch of VDs and STDs some that were never cured may not have been the cause. The cause was that he had been a she in previous and many other lives before. He tried to hide his man breasts too in photos. If they showed in a photo it got nixed. Also he hated being photographed while eating. He got women because of his charm and his ability to please.
He preferred to make it on his back, what’s up with that? He said it soothed his bad back.