Observation #413 (The Shoe Bomber Sentenced)

                             

 

Remember the guy who got on a plane with a bomb built into his shoe and tried to light it?

Did you know his trial is over?

Did you know he was sentenced?

Did you see/hear any of the judge's comments on TV or Radio?

Didn't think so.!!!

Everyone should hear what the judge had to say.

Ruling by Judge William Young, US District Court.

Prior to sentencing, the Judge asked the defendant if he had anything to say His response: After admitting his guilt to the court for the record, Reid also admitted his 'allegiance to Osama bin Laden, to Islam, and to the religion of Allah,' defiantly

stating, 'I think I will not apologize for my actions,' and told the court 'I am at war with your country.'

Judge Young then delivered the statement quoted below:

Judge Young: "Mr. Richard C. Reid, hearken now to the sentence the Court imposes upon you.

On counts 1, 5 and 6 the Court sentences you to life in prison in the custody of the United States Attorney General. On counts 2, 3, 4 and 7, the Court sentences you to 20 years in prison on each count, the sentence on each count to run consecutively. (That's 80 years.)

On count 8 the Court sentences you to the mandatory 30 years, again to be served consecutively to the 80 years just imposed. The Court imposes upon you for each of the eight counts a fine of $250,000, that's an aggregate fine of $2 million. The Court accepts the government's recommendation with respect to restitution and orders restitution in the amount of $298.17 to Andre Bousquet and $5,784 to American Airlines.

The Court imposes upon you an $800 special assessment. The Court imposes upon you, five years supervised release simply because the law requires it. But the life sentences are real life sentences so I need go no further.

This is the sentence that is provided for by our statutes. It is a fair and just sentence. It is a righteous sentence.

Now, let me explain this to you. We are not afraid of you or any of your terrorist co-conspirators, Mr. Reid. We are Americans. We have been through the fire before. There is too much war talk here and I say that to everyone with the utmost respect. Here in this court, we deal with individuals as individuals and care for individuals as individuals. As human beings, we reach out for justice.

You are not an enemy combatant. You are a terrorist. You are not a soldier in any war. You are a terrorist. To give you that reference, to call you a soldier, gives you far too much stature. Whether the officers of government do it, or your attorney does it, or if you think you are a soldier, you are not-----, you are a terrorist. And we do not negotiate with terrorists. We do not meet with terrorists. We do not sign documents with terrorists. We hunt them down one by one and bring them to justice.

So war talk is way out of line in this court. You are a big fellow. But you are not that big. You're no warrior. I've known warriors. You are a terrorist. A species of criminal that is guilty of multiple attempted murders. In a very real sense, State Trooper Santiago had it right when you first were taken off that plane and into custody and you wondered where the press and the TV crews were, and he said:

'You're no big deal. '

You are no big deal.

What your able counsel and what the equally able United States attorneys have grappled with and what I have, as honestly as I know how, tried to grapple with, is why you did something so horrific. What was it that led you here to this courtroom today?

I have listened respectfully to what you have to say. And I ask you to search your heart and ask yourself what sort of unfathomable hate led you to do what you are guilty, and admit you are guilty, of doing? And, I have an answer for you. It may not satisfy you, but as I search this entire record, it comes as close to understanding as I know.

It seems to me, you hate the one thing that to us is most precious. You hate our freedom. Our individual freedom. Our individual freedom to live as we choose, to come and go as we choose, to believe or not believe as we individually choose. Here, in this society, the very wind carries freedom. It carries it everywhere from sea to shining sea. It is because we prize individual freedom so much that you are here in this beautiful courtroom, so that everyone can see, truly see, that justice is administered fairly, individually, and discretely. It is for freedom's sake that your lawyers are striving so vigorously on your behalf, have filed appeals, will go on in their representation of you before other judges.

We Americans are all about freedom. Because we all know that the way we treat you, Mr. Reid, is the measure of our own liberties. Make no mistake though. It is yet true that we will bear any burden; pay any price, to preserve our freedoms. Look around this courtroom. Mark it well. The world is not going to long remember what you or I say here. The day after tomorrow, it will be forgotten, but this, however, will long endure.

Here in this courtroom and courtrooms all across America , the American people will gather to see that justice, individual justice, justice, not war, individual justice, is in fact being done. The very President of the United States through his officers, will have to come into courtrooms and lay out evidence on which specific matters can be judged and juries of citizens will gather to sit and judge that evidence democratically, to mold and shape and refine our sense of justice.

See that flag, Mr. Reid? That's the flag of the United States of America . That flag will fly there long after this is all forgotten. That flag stands for freedom. And it always will.

Mr. Custody Officer. Stand him down."

Ruling by Judge William Young, US District Court.

Pig in a Poke

I think one of our basic problems is we quit telling our kids the fairy tales, as they were written, - no we had to fix them up and make them better. I remember back in 1980, I bought into the Jupiter Effect, it was a scare which stated that in 1982 there would be a planetary alignment of all nine planets, (before Pluto was demoted) and that the combined gravitational pull was going to disrupt life on earth.

Well it didn’t happen, and I realized, it was no more than a “Chicken Little” story. Global Warming is the same story, “Chicken Little!” Simply a matter of making myself important, by scaring you.

If you want to sell something, first you scare your customer, then you sell him a cure.

I knew early on that Bill Clinton was no more than “The Emperor’s New Clothes” and is the case with Obama, he’s running around naked as a jaybird, and everybody refuses to see.

I think we need to get back to the basic stories & philosophies so the people learn to recognize bullshit when it is presented it to them. Ronald Reagan was very good at using basic stories, like the “Evil Empire” speech, I know he was referring to Star Wars, but Star Wars is a basic story of good and evil that was popular at the time, and the people understood, and responded. No matter how well you dress up a pig, it’s still a pig! Hahahha!!!! It’s true.

George Henry Nichols

Paul Revere's Ride

Listen my children and you shall hear

Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,

On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five;

Hardly a man is now alive

Who remembers that famous day and year.

He said to his friend, "If the British march

By land or sea from the town to-night,

Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch

Of the North Church tower as a signal light,--

One if by land, and two if by sea;

And I on the opposite shore will be,

Ready to ride and spread the alarm

Through every Middlesex village and farm,

For the country folk to be up and to arm."

Then he said "Good-night!" and with muffled oar

Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore,

Just as the moon rose over the bay,

Where swinging wide at her moorings lay

The Somerset, British man-of-war;

A phantom ship, with each mast and spar

Across the moon like a prison bar,

And a huge black hulk, that was magnified

By its own reflection in the tide.

Meanwhile, his friend through alley and street

Wanders and watches, with eager ears,

Till in the silence around him he hears

The muster of men at the barrack door,

The sound of arms, and the tramp of feet,

And the measured tread of the grenadiers,

Marching down to their boats on the shore.

Then he climbed the tower of the Old North Church,

By the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread,

To the belfry chamber overhead,

And startled the pigeons from their perch

On the sombre rafters, that round him made

Masses and moving shapes of shade,--

By the trembling ladder, steep and tall,

To the highest window in the wall,

Where he paused to listen and look down

A moment on the roofs of the town

And the moonlight flowing over all.

Beneath, in the churchyard, lay the dead,

In their night encampment on the hill,

Wrapped in silence so deep and still

That he could hear, like a sentinel's tread,

The watchful night-wind, as it went

Creeping along from tent to tent,

And seeming to whisper, "All is well!"

A moment only he feels the spell

Of the place and the hour, and the secret dread

Of the lonely belfry and the dead;

For suddenly all his thoughts are bent

On a shadowy something far away,

Where the river widens to meet the bay,--

A line of black that bends and floats

On the rising tide like a bridge of boats.

Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride,

Booted and spurred, with a heavy stride

On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere.

Now he patted his horse's side,

Now he gazed at the landscape far and near,

Then, impetuous, stamped the earth,

And turned and tightened his saddle girth;

But mostly he watched with eager search

The belfry tower of the Old North Church,

As it rose above the graves on the hill,

Lonely and spectral and sombre and still.

And lo! as he looks, on the belfry's height

A glimmer, and then a gleam of light!

He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns,

But lingers and gazes, till full on his sight

A second lamp in the belfry burns.

A hurry of hoofs in a village street,

A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark,

And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a spark

Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet;

That was all! And yet, through the gloom and the light,

The fate of a nation was riding that night;

And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight,

Kindled the land into flame with its heat.

He has left the village and mounted the steep,

And beneath him, tranquil and broad and deep,

Is the Mystic, meeting the ocean tides;

And under the alders that skirt its edge,

Now soft on the sand, now loud on the ledge,

Is heard the tramp of his steed as he rides.

It was twelve by the village clock

When he crossed the bridge into Medford town.

He heard the crowing of the cock,

And the barking of the farmer's dog,

And felt the damp of the river fog,

That rises after the sun goes down.

It was one by the village clock,

When he galloped into Lexington.

He saw the gilded weathercock

Swim in the moonlight as he passed,

And the meeting-house windows, black and bare,

Gaze at him with a spectral glare,

As if they already stood aghast

At the bloody work they would look upon.

It was two by the village clock,

When he came to the bridge in Concord town.

He heard the bleating of the flock,

And the twitter of birds among the trees,

And felt the breath of the morning breeze

Blowing over the meadow brown.

And one was safe and asleep in his bed

Who at the bridge would be first to fall,

Who that day would be lying dead,

Pierced by a British musket ball.

You know the rest. In the books you have read

How the British Regulars fired and fled,---

How the farmers gave them ball for ball,

>From behind each fence and farmyard wall,

Chasing the redcoats down the lane,

Then crossing the fields to emerge again

Under the trees at the turn of the road,

And only pausing to fire and load.

So through the night rode Paul Revere;

And so through the night went his cry of alarm

To every Middlesex village and farm,---

A cry of defiance, and not of fear,

A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door,

And a word that shall echo for evermore!

For, borne on the night-wind of the Past,

Through all our history, to the last,

In the hour of darkness and peril and need,

The people will waken and listen to hear

The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed,

And the midnight message of Paul Revere.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

“The individual alone is accountable to God…”

 “The individual alone is accountable to God…”  This is the cornerstone of the Constitution, this is the “American Ideal.”     “The individual alone is accountable to God…”  It’s a plain spoken way of saying, “You are Sovereign.”  It’s your ass… on the line…

The constitution laid out the operating rules, and governing body of just such an environment, it spells out just what the federal government can do. The American experience is not about being protected by the federal government, no… Quite the opposite. It’s more like… not having the federal government there at all. That was the wonderful thing… And no it’s not fair…But considering the foundation… It was as fair as you were ever going to get. Each man on his own. And if you rubbed the locals the wrong way… Robbing their banks, raping their women, and killing their men… They would deal with it. We were governed locally… The laws were enforced locally… Crooked or not… Locally.

Basic rules of engagement…

I can say any damn thing I want….

I can respond anyway I want to anything you say.

I can print anything I want…

I can respond anyway I want to anything you print.

I am well armed, and ready to protect what is mine… and I recognize you are as well… I can form allies and companies... and I recognize you can as well. 

Ya don’t talk bad about nobody’s mother… (That's un American...)  

Ya don’t sit around and piss and moan about how poor you are, and how rich I am…(That's un American). I am my kingdom, and you are yours…

Ya don’t hustle a buck on a Sunday… In recognition of the authority behind the law...  “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth”.  (it's un American). 

Get it… We, the people fight it out… Us… We form our communities, with whom we like, with our ideas… With no federal Government to tell us anything!!! And we keep our own records… Let the cream rise to the top…

We can’t be murdering each other… Rule…

We can’t steal from each other….Rule…

Lie at your own risk…Rule…

You can’t be fucking my wife and raping my daughters….Rule….

Don't play by the rules, watch out! 

Otherwise… you’re on your own… and are of equal rank, under God.

 This is the only place were man is equal… Before God…. Otherwise, men are like the snowflakes, no two alike. Some good, some bad… But no two alike. Only by the law of God, can a man be judged… For man’s law, is what man wants… Can justice be found there..?

Please read my paper on Law…

http://thebiggalootfrom.blogspot.com/2012/06/law.html

George Henry Nichols 

Girls, The Joy of the World

This essay may seem a little strange, and perhaps on a subject many may see as taboo. Girls. Or girf’s as Carly Shaw would say.

This essay is going to be long, with a number of videos. I request that you view the videos, even if they bore you, hopefully by the end they won’t. Try your best to view them with an opened mind and an open heart, without judgment on what they are wearing or not wearing, or how they move. I did not shoot these video’s, I did not choose the dress, pick the music or lay out the choreography. Some I choose to make a point, others just for the experience.

Anyone who has viewed my profile knows I am a Catholic, and as a Catholic it is impossible for me to have such a discussion without God being the foundation and fabric of the whole. I do not claim to speak for the Church, nor do I represent this essay as teachings of the Church. Instead, with the teachings of my mother and the actions of my father and a reflection of what I have been taught as a Catholic, these are my conclusions.

So in order to lay foundation for an honest talk about girls, we must get an idea of who the woman is.

Let us start at the beginning. (1-26) God created man in his image; in the divine image he created them; male and female he created them. Now it is obvious that he did not create us equal, he created us male and female. But, as to the authority bestowed upon them. Dominion over the birds of the air, the fish in the sea, and all the things that relate to this, he gave to man and woman both. Now I feel the first story of creation was told to make it clear to the reader that God created everything and that he created it from nothing, that is to say, he willed it, and so it was. I think he used the format of seven days because he wanted man to keep track of time, a format we use to this day. Why do you suppose he wanted us to keep track of time?
 

This is a destiny you cannot escape, make friends with it, this is not the way it was meant to be, but this is the way it is! Notice, what do you see, the name of the person and the day they were born and the day they died. Time!!! Your life is made of time!!

Now let us take a look at the second story of creation, (2-18) I feel this story of creation is to make it clear to the reader that we were made personally by God, regardless of what we may learn about the earth and it’s history, mankind was created personally. Now if you listen to the story, ‘remember; words mean things,’ God is the creator and therefore outranks man, (the creation can not out rank the creator), and if you follow the logic of the story, woman is a gift from God to man. Therefore, equal in spirit, but as human beings a man outranks his wife, not women, his wife (a gift can not out rank the recepeant).  But, don’t fret about this idea that your husband outranks you; God knows what he is doing.

Now, where does a gift from God belong? And should it be respected? Remember, this gift is very likely as smart as you are, and perhaps at times even smarter.

Remember from the story, you (the male) are made of clay, she on the other hand, is made of flesh and bone. Right there is a huge difference, which I believe explains a lot about the nature of a woman, to include the sixth sense, which I believe women have, and in recent generations, have been cheated of.

Now, let us take a look at some of things we know.
What did God write about woman, (Proverbs 31-10). Seems God thinks woman to be of great value, considering the great value she brings to her husband. And everyone knows ‘A man is King of his Castle – But a woman rules the roost’.

What else do we know, well we know the Angles have addressed men throughout the bible, and always in such a way that would led you to believe Angles outrank men. Example, When the Angle Gabriel came to Zechariah to announce the birth of John, Zechariah rebuffed him and said, ‘I am an old man, my wife an old woman, how can this be?’ And if you remember, Gabriel became indignant and struck Zechariah dumb, saying in effect, ‘ who do you think you are! You doubt me, Gabriel, who stands in attendance of God, you crummy little human being,’ Zappp!!! He’s dumb, for nine months, until the child (John the Baptist) was born, and Zechariah’s first words after nine months were,’ and his name will be called John.’ Yes, Angles outrank human beings.

But let us consider how that same Angle, Gabriel, addressed Mary when he came to announce the birth of Jesus. “Hail Mary full of grace, the Lord is with thee, blessed art thou among women”. Now who sounds like they are of higher rank? Mary? I think so. The only human being I know (outside of Jesus) who outranks Angles. Why? Because she is the Queen of Heaven. By default of who she is, she is the mother of Jesus, and if Jesus is King and unmarried, then by default, his mother is Queen. Now think about this, if we are going to believe that we are children of God, then by default, the women are Princesses. Think about that.

You Catholics, consider for one moment what an absolute joy it must have been to know Mary, the Mother of God as a girl. That’s right, God’s own Mother, the Queen of heaven started as a girl.

Now, if you read my essay, “Yes, I a male chavinist,’ I show how this manifest itself in our lives and the structure of culture.

http://thebiggalootfrom.blogspot.com/2012/05/yes-i-am-male-chauvinist.html

My mother liked being a woman, she like the power that came with it, and she knew how to use it. Once when I was about five years old, mom wanted a new refrigerator, but dad insisted the old one ran fine. So mom, knowing dad, instead of arguing with him, painted the old refrigerator bright gold, I got to help. It looked grand. Being sixty now and looking back, I’ll bet it was a monstrosity and shortly after that, we had a new refrigerator. Mom knew what she was doing.

Now where do such women come from? Women on whom you can build a great culture, like the Greeks, the Romans, the English?

They come from girls. My mother loved being a girl, she told me all about it, and the great joy that is was. This is key; if women are the gift, then girls are the joy. Girls (created in the likeness and image of Almighty God) are the joy of the world, no if’s, no ands, no buts.  

This paper began with stirrings in my gray matter about 1994, I was well into my forties, running a store in a Mexican flea market. I always had a color TV for sale, and of course it was always tuned to Univision because of who was looking at it.

I came in one morning and turned on the TV and this is what I saw.

‘El Club de los Tigritos’ (Ruge)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U6_1jEsx7-4

A strange thing happened, I was entertained. My spirits were lifted and I felt good about the world. I don’t even speak Spanish. I wasn’t sure why I was entertained, my first response was, ‘you’re a dirty old man if you like this,’ but yet, I’m not, that wasn’t it. But the truth is; I was entertained. I became a fan of the show and during its run, not only was I entertained; I studied it carefully in an effort to understand why I was entertained.

As time went on and I continued to watch the show, the things my mother had tried so hard to teach me began to emerge. Things we use to celebrate in earlier generations.

This is from the generation who fought and won WWII. There was always room for the girl and time to admire her and appreciate her. After all, she is the bud that will become the flower, and then a brick in the cultural wall.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WLLSqpYyPD8

If you ever saw the movie, ‘Meet me in St. Louis,’ then you know it was a romance, but the sheer joy in the movie was provided by Margret O’Brian. She lifts the spirits and heightens the emotional character of the entire film, simply because of who she was, the girl.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1grzsbVrXyg

Now if God is our foundation and fabric, then we can’t over look Satan. If Christ is real, than Satan is real. Why does Satan hate the human race so much and is determined to destroy it? Because Christ offered us a path to redemption, an offer unavailable to the fallen angels, Satan is already defeated and doomed along with his cohorts.

So Satan is envious of our redemption, but also of our physical being and the reality which goes along with it. We have the joy of being spiritual beings as well as human beings. There are many pleasures available to us which are directly related to the physical reality, like eating, drinking, sleeping, smell, touch, sex and most important, a foundation on which we ourselves can create, the earth and all that’s in it.

Christ said, ‘With man, nothing is possible, but with God all things are possible.’ Has this not proven to be so? Any and everything we have though up, we find what is necessary to make it so, right here in this abundant creation of God’s.

And what is this abundant creation? Contrast. Everything contrasts everything else. You can’t have day without night, you can’t have black without white. Happiness means nothing without sadness, struggle, grief. There is no laughter if there is no crying.  Without despair, there is no joy. Without the male there is no female.

God created us with a balance, (and the two shall be as one, (duhhh.. the children)), man who is made of clay, who is hard, earthy, with his roots deep in the soil that supports him and yields to him, and woman, who is made of flesh and bone, one who is soft, even tempted, a willing servant, a peace maker, a foundation of creation herself, and who can soften the clay and help mold it, care for it, comfort it and inspire it. (She’s really quite the gift).

Now if Satan wants to destroy man, then he needs only to upset this balance. If he can confuse and distort the identity of the man and the woman, or remove woman from the picture, then man will destroy himself. If Satan can steal the joy of the world, then despair will fill that void.

This is just a little girl on the beach, observe her, this is joy bubbling over onto the world around her. Look at her, she is the flower, she wants to be look at and admired, her only desire, to be pleasing, it’s who she is. She is made of flesh and bone.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QXvryajyNHY

The little boy on the other hand, will act silly and want attention, but for the most part, wants to play in the dirt. It’s who he is… Let the little boys play in the dirt and let the little girls, be girls.

If you take a close look at what you’ve built, the woman is behaving so much like a man, and so many men acting like girls, how can you tell the different?

Your toys are so abundant and so fascinating, you don’t see each other anymore, you don’t see your kids, you’re staring into a computer, television or a phone. You are distracted.

The beauty of the mating dance, regardless of culture or era, was immortalized in literature. I don’t even see one anymore? How do boys and girls get together? What? With all the cops, lawyers, suits, right down to the first grade, ‘Johnny Kiss me and I’m going to sue!’ 

Everybody’s a dirty old man; you can’t even look at a girl. One false move and you are labeled. It is dangerous to enjoy a girl, who does this sound like to you? If not Satan. Who would want them ignored and shunned, molested and abused, left unattended out of fear to be overgrown and choked off by weeds. To think only of the pleasure of sex, never considering the great potential of creation there in your own hands. The sheer power she gives you, that God gives you.

This following clip made for quite a stir, lots of people yelling about how obscene this was. Child porn I heard it called. (So be cautious)

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TYRIYL5uP6w

Let me tell you what I saw. I saw five beautiful little girls give it their best shot. I saw hours worth of work and sore feet and hurt feelings and gallons of tears, and after all that suffering, they got up on that stage and dance that well, for me (considering I’m the audience at this moment), and I ‘m going to say that’s somehow nasty? Who do these people think they are? What are their true motives?

We started out in fig leaves, they’re girls, that’s who they are; they are the joy of the world.

If all you saw was sex, if you thought that was somehow nasty, then Satan has stolen your joy. Because what was actually on that stage was the future, the buildings blocks of a nation, showing you with all their sinew, their beauty, their strength, their ability to work with others, their ability to learn, to count, to understand music, to communicate. Do you think joy is hollow? Joy from God is never hollow. You speak about the depths of despair, have you forgotten the heights of joy? Look at what’s right in front of you.

Jackie Evancho Again, with an open mind and an open heart, if you let her, she’ll reach right into you. Please watch the entire video.

The last time I posted this, they pulled the video, its back, so type   Jackie Evancho, 10 (classical crossover singer) ~ America's Got Talent YouTube Special  into your youtube engine, and you’ll find it. I do not want to offend this girl, this is a great performance.

Not only does she have the voice of an angel, consider all the practice, all the heartache, all the tears and suffering that went into that moment. Notice how well she stood there and accepted the praise and admiration, how honest she was, and even when she bust into tears and cried for the world to see, she held her ground gracefully. She was ten. Rare is the occasion I see this kind of strength among my fellow men.

The bald guy said, ‘She’s a child?’ At the end the judges were truly amazed, not only with her, but with the response of the audience. I have to wonder why? Could it be because they ignore what’s right in front of them, and when a girl makes it all the way to Big Brother, they are overwhelmed?  Do they not understand who she is? The Joy of the world. It’s on this kind of foundation you can build a great culture. This clip goes a long ways to making my point. The great response to her was because of the great joy she brought to them. A natural thing, something we should be filled with. Instead we are filled with other people’s tragedies, the troubles of the world, doom, despair and play with our distractions so we don’t think about it.

Then something like this comes along, lifts your spirits and makes you fell good about the world, and it feels strange, somehow foreign, somehow??? and you change the channel.

Indeed she is foreign, she is from Russia. The reason I choose a few foreign films was hopefully you would not speak the laugange, girls don’t need laugange to be girls, they just are. Look at her, let her sing to you, you’ll be amazed at what she communcates, joy will flow from her. Remember that, when listening to a girl, words aren’t always important. She has a sixth sense. You need only to get to know her.

Katya Ryabova

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I7E99EjtObU 

You have your boats (my weakness), trucks, guns, computers, football, baseball and toys out your ass. That’s fine, but if you want to study something, there is nothing more fascinating than a little girl. She will entertain you, she will challenge you, she will make you think, she’ll puzzle you, she’ll protect you and she’ll care for you like a sick puppy when you’re down or old.

They will protect you, if you get to know your daughters, and teach them, and cultivate them, they will fight to the death for you. That’s why you send them away during times of battle or you take the war to your enemies, so they don’t bring it home to your women, because they will get themselves killed protecting you, and it is your duty to protect what God gave you. Remember, you are made of clay, she of flesh and bone, you are her rock, and she will defend her rock to the death.

Priscilla ‘Cette Vie Nouvelle’

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dncxiW-BhCI

These are the bricks on which you build a culture. Girls, not some gender neutral equal partner. Do not judge her on what she’s wearing or the sexy way she dances; consider instead the creature that is capable of doing this. Yes she’s sexy, yes she’s young, she’s a girl!!! Cultivate her, teach her, rear her, love her, support her, but let her be a girl. Quit trying to change nature, instead give them an outlet. Give the young a mating dance, give them an avenue to get to know each other and appreciate each other. For if there is to be freedom, there first has to be a reason, and you are so tangled in your own tar babies (http://thebiggalootfrom.blogspot.com/2012/07/what-are-we-going-to-do.html) and so distracted by your toys, you have forgotten that reason.  This gift from God is your reason. Think about that, it’s nature; it’s the way God made it. Perhaps as many as 2,500 girls a day are being sacrificed to Satan, he has you not only killing the joy of the world, but your reason to be free, and where there is no reason, there is no will.

Christ said, ‘It would be better for a mill stone to be place around your neck and you tossed into the sea, least you corrupt such as these.’ Referring to the children.  Do not molest them or corrupt them, instead appreciate them, admire them, protect them and let them bring the ‘Joy of God’ into your life.

Just a small town girl, at a small town festival; a beautiful flower in the breeze.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G3WDTiFYkrA

Or a field exploding with color filling the air with the aroma’s of spring.

AKB48 – ‘Baby, baby, baby.’

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yNg3mcjhq9w

Consider if these are the building blocks, what a beautiful cultural you could build.

You have already murder some twenty-seven million of your girls since 1973 before they were even born. It has to stop! Abortion has to stop! You will not have the blessings of the Almighty God as long as this continues.

Consider for one moment if you were God, and man was choosing to murder 2,500 of your girls every day, which ones would you let man keep?

Remember, your girls are only as good as you, and you only as good as your girls. Embrace and kiss your wives and daughters and see them for what and who they are. For God will abandon the country which abandons its girls.

Jordan McCoy

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rDO_Sgz804M 

Our father’s knew what I’m telling you, and went so far as to tell stories to illustrate the point. One such story is Pollyanna, by Eleanor H. Porter, here brought to life by Walt Disney.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gJQSQA2bwgU

If you are so inclined, I think the entire movie is here, and is worth the watch. It is the story of a little girl who transforms a community, preacher and all.  ©

George Henry Nichols

Where's Your Compass?

You bunch of bleeding heart, whining, Dumb-Asses

You know I don’t understand this sometimes, There’s one fellow, maybe two, selling communism, a couple teaching Capitalism, a mess of you screaming on about liberty, a few selling god, this god, and that god, and the other god! Come on people, get a life. 

Don’t you understand these things by now!!! You all act like there is some great understanding here, some great solution, if only. Well, if I only had money? There is no great secret. I am who I am. We are who we are. 

We can’t go around saving each other, it can’t be done. We can help, we can lead, we can serve, but in the end…. That’s all we can do. They have got you sold on some kind of guilt trip that is just plain Crap!!! This guy got more than that guy… Whine!!! There’s more of them than there is of me… Whine!!! That bank charges less than my bank… Whine!!! Wal-Mart makes to much money… Whine!!! It’s all bull-shit!!! So…. what? It’s always been like that… Always… 

It's the nature of man... It's the way it was made... Life is contrast, you can't have white, if you don't have black, You can't have a medium, if you don't have a large and small, you can't have a man, if you don't have a female, you can't have beauty, if you don't have ugly , You don't have the rich, if there are no poor,and you can't have the joy of life, if you don't have the tragedy of death,  for one defined the other. It is the recognition of this truth that leads to an understanding and appreciation of life as a whole,

You have nothing to feel guilty about, unless you’ve done something sure enough. They're ten commandments, which one's have you broken? Fix it and move on.  But don’t let the TV make you feel guilty, or the radio, or the newspaper, maybe not even your preacher, depending on what he’s telling you, and you should know what he’s  suppose to be telling you. Don’t go around feeling guilty. My mother had an ole saying, 'Don't believe anything you hear and half of what you see...'  

You know what’s wrong with you people, you have forgotten your philosophy, and it’s like a compass, and here you are lost in the wood, with voices all around you, calling to you, pulling you this way and that, and here…? You don’t have a compass. Shame… Shame… Now I know a lot of you think you have a philosophy, some of them short cute phrases. Some of them quotes from this guy or that, but have you ever sat down and strung it altogether into a line of logic?  Have you ever sat down and followed the founding father's line of logic and tried to understand ,what they understood. 

I hear you quote, George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Thomas Paine, Ben Franklin, Patrick Henry even Jesus Christ, but they acted, and those who heard these inspiring words acted, they brought their words to life in the way they lived and the way they affected the world. Why? Because they believed the things they said, they understood the line of logic they espoused, the ideal of individual sovereignty. They knew how it applied to God, to their neighbor, and most important, to themselves.

Their fortunes were not the most important objective, for King George II was not asking for that much money (something like two or three cents). To them, the objective was self determination; sovereignty. ‘The right for a man to live for his own sake.’ (Ayn Rand) For only under these conditions can a man give his life to God, or not. Only under these conditions can a man reach his full potential, or not. Only under these conditions can a man choose a woman and build a family, a dynasty, a legacy, a tradition, or not. This is what made America great, this is the great tradition of who we are, not the wealth, the wealth I promise is incidental, or as my father use to say ‘ just reward for doing what is right.’ 

If you claim to be Christian, as I do. If you claim the ‘Prince of Peace,’ to be your God, remember Christ said, ‘Do not be mistaken, I have not come to sow peace, instead I have come to sow division, to set father against son, mother against daughter, nation against nation.’ Also recall that he picked up a stick and cleared the temple, I repeat, he cleared the temple. Not because he was angry, not because he was mean, but because it needed to be done. You can't have peace, if you don't have war. 

Again, this is a clarion call, stand up and do, what needs to be done. ©

George Henry Nichols

A Bit O Justice or Of Tar and Feathers

From the book

The Life, Times & Adventures of

Sir George Henry Nichols

or

The Legend of Captain Outrageous

The July moon was on the rise when our third attempt at an escape came to a blazing finish. The first attempt was a raft that appeared to be a fine craft, until we put it in the brine and found that it moved on the water, like a piece of cloth, that it to say, it was not at all rigid and soon worked itself to pieces.

The second attempt was a piragua, which we cut from one of the larger trees up the creek a little ways. It was a very large tree, which was felled with the carpenters saw. In fact we had gotten a good many of his tools from the wreck, including an adze, which was very useful in this endeavor. After the tree was felled, all limbs were trimmed from it and hauled away, and an area cleared out around it. It was decided how long the craft should be, the top then cut from it to give us the proper length. We removed the bark and were ready to hollow it out and to give it shape.

With much chopping and burning it was cleared out quite well which indeed gave us a right nice piragua of about twenty-five feet in length, and sitting about seventy-five yards from the creek we were to use to float it down to the sea. But with much effort, and all seven of us at the strain, could not budge it in the slightest. In fact, we couldn't even pick up one end of the damn thing. It seems in an attempt to pick a good stout tree able to carry all of us safely, we had picked one all together too large, for if the truth be known, the piragua lay in the exact place it fell as a tree, and was now no more than a monument to our enterprise. This was something Bob felt he had to point out time and again. 'Pick a tree, the King's own army couldn't move, and shape it into a canoe, wit'out ever realizing it's too 'eavy. What bunch of dunderites are you.' This didn’t set well with those who had done most of the work.

I should point out all this work did pay off in one respect, our living quarters had improved greatly within the pail, as our huts grew in size and tables and chairs were fashioned, though they were crude, for none of us proved to be a carpenter, something Bob found joy in pointing out, most all the time, 'you dunderites couldn't build a chair if it fell out of a tree.' I began to sense that the bunch of us were just about to give Bob something to repine about, he liked it so much.

I, being quite the youngest of the group had little to say, mostly because I wasn't heard when I spoke, spent much time up one of the shoreline palms as a lookout for ships, and was part of the hunting and gathering party along with Willie Wimmer and John Blanchard. The other four did most of the work on the vessels, except Bob who was too busy telling us how it was all but a failed effort, 'We'll all drown, do all this work, build our ‘opes, then we'll drown, you'll see, you'll all see!'

On one of the hunting excursions, shooting small chicken like birds, which had made quite good eating, we ran across the ship's long boat. It was beat up a bit and half buried in the sand, but otherwise appeared to be all there. So John, Willie and I dug the sand from it, in order to free it up and have a closer look, and indeed, it appeared to be in right fine shape. So finishing our hunting, we returned to the pail with the good news of what we had found, along with a good many birds and some fruit.

With the word we had found the ship's long boat, there was much mirth in the camp that night, a bright, cool night as I remember it, with the rising June moon. The birds were roasted and the fruit passed about while we spoke of Jamaica. "Bah! We'll never see Jamaica, tis our fate to grow old and die 'ere on this God forsaken sandbar, you'll see, we'll all see!" Bob kept insisting, he reminded me of that dreadful bloke on the Wizard, and who met his fate in the maelstrom. I thought what an appalling way to view life. For the most part he was ignored, and he shut up for awhile after Lt. Chester told him, "Pipe down ya ole goat for I 'ave ya on a picket and roast ya up for the rest of us to eat, then we'll all 'ave a lit'le peace, and a bit of ole goat, hey." With that, we all did a little cheering, and had a good laugh at ole Bob's expense.

So the next day started our third effort to build a means of escape, except this time we didn't have to build it, just repair one the good Lord had chosen to bless us with. It took all seven of us to carry her from the beach, which was about three miles to the north of the southern point, back to the pail for repairs. She was about seventeen feet long and quite the heavy craft. I for one never dreamed it would be so heavy, it was no wonder we couldn't move the piragua.

The main problem with this craft was it had dried out, and there were gaps between the planks, and it leaked as though it wasn't a boat at all. To remedy this, we brewed up a vat of pitch, which we made from the sap of one of the local trees, which had a very sticky quality about it, and appeared to inure with age. We used this pitch along with coconut husks to make a caulking to fill these gaps between the planks, and seal the boat up. We had her bottom’s up across two logs so we could see and seal all the leaks there along her bottom.

So, after a couple of days, we were just about ready to put this boat in the water for trials, and if it held up, the plans were to rig it with a sail and rudder in order that we may determine a course, which was most desirable, for otherwise we would be at the will of the sea, or we should have to row it to Jamaica.

Bob, while stirring the pitch, was again telling us how this boat would never carry us all, and that we would most likely drown at sea. When he pulled the paddle from the mixture, he dragged a bit of the pitch into the flame, instead of scrapping it from the oar, as we all knew to do. This of course set the oar on fire, which gave Bob the fright. He began to run around, swinging the blazing paddle about in a most disconcerting manner. As he came around the vat of pitch he tripped over one of the tripod legs, and fell face first into the sand, sending the blazing oar flying thru the air and onto the boat, which set it to flaming right quick, for it was covered in fresh pitch, and burned quite hot indeed. All efforts to put it out failed, including water, which seemed to just roll off of it as though it were a blazing duck.

This upset all of us quite, and David Mitcham shouted, "you dunderite, I'll 'ave your 'ead I will, I'll not stay 'ere with the likes of you." Then picking up one of the swords, made a move for Bob.

That's when Chester stepped in and said, "Now David, we don't 'ave to 'ave 'is 'ead"

Then William said, "Let's tar 'im up like a big bird, and see if 'e don't suit us better!" Everyone froze, this idea played well, as they all mulled it over, I didn't know of what he spoke, but I could tell the rest did, and it appeared to suit them quite.

Then William looked at me and said, "George, go and get t’at sack o’ feat’ers in the ‘ut, we goin' 'ave some justice we are!" So I ran to the pail and got the sack of feathers, (from all the birds we'd been eating), as I did this I heard Bob start screaming. When I returned, they had him stripped down to nothing and was smearing him with hot pitch, Bob for his part was screaming and trying to put up a struggle, but they were angry indeed and not to be denied. When they had him covered in pitch, from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet, they hit Bob with the feathers, and the feathers stuck to him fast. By the time they turned him loose, he looked a bit like a battered wild goose, truly an amusing sight he was, as he ran about screaming what a bunch of heathens we all were, and this put us all in a better mood, save Bob, as our third attempt came to a blazing conclusion. ©

George Henry Nichols