Tuesday, February 28, 2006
While Kevin Swanson should be commended for pointing out the sham of contemporary Feminism, I am not so sure the answer lies at the other extreme that young women should be kept out of college and manipulated from young ages into being homemakers if that is not their own individual ambition.
If there are no young children involved, why is it anybody else's business what decision a young woman makes in regards to family or career?
Isn't that one of the reasons we are told we are waging the war in Afghanistan?
This is an issue where both radical Feminist and pious cleric should both mind their own affairs.
Just because a young gal gets a job outside the home it does not follow she will become a harlot standing on a street corner or ravished by a Viagra-maddened supervisor.
While the idea of the family as a unit thumping their noses at the world does have a certain appeal to it, what is a young person to do when their interests do not mesh with those of their other loved ones?
For example, what if a bookish child is born to a family of practically-minded people skilled in their own way for the tasks to which the Lord has called them but have no interest in more studious matters? Is such a young scholar --- either male or female --- to be sentenced to a life of alienation and chastisement for being uniquely talented?
Maybe while we are at it, perhaps we should promulgate some pious decree or institute a caste system along the lines of a Medieval guild that from this day forward one shall forever toil in the craft of their forbearers. Can't have those uppity peasant types getting too much book learning and threatening to upset the balance of power, now can we?
Those finding fulfillment in the social setting Swanson applauds in this interview should be allowed to continue in it unmolested by government social welfare operatives. However, that said, neither should proponents of it turn around and lambaste from pulpit or behind microphone those living in a more contemporary, though as earnestly devout manner, by lavishing undue admiration upon those adhering to standards not necessarily mandated for every individual in every instance in the pages of Scripture.
Discerning Christians need to be warned of the increasing trend among many of their ecclesiastical brethren propagating the deception that if one has not wed and bred by their early 20's, one is somehow outside the will of God.
Christ never married and it has been speculated neither was Paul. Isaac did not marry until his forties.
But I guess these Christian leaders are so much wiser than these figures nowadays and capbable of speaking for all in matters where even the Lord Himself remains silent and grants a degree of freedom to His beloved children.
By Frederick Meekins
Monday, February 27, 2006
This edition of Freedom 21 Santa Cruz also suggests how President Reagan might not have been the friend of liberty he claimed to be as he helped set the wheels of regionalism into motion in California and how he signed an agreement to merge the U.S. and Russian systems of education.
Interesting how when Americans go to place money in an account of an established financial institution, one has to produce multiple forms of identification such as driving permits, social security numbers, and credit cards.
Withdrawing these funds is an even greater ordeal as, not only does one have to produce the collection of ID's, one is burdened with the additional responsibility of having to justify why one desires to take repossession of one's own money. And if one wishes to extract more than an arbitrary limited amount, Big Brother must often be informed that one is doing so.
However, a new credit union is opening in Washington, DC for the purposes of serving the area’s expanding population of illegal aliens. This raises a number of issues and questions.
Foremost, will the individuals utilizing the service and those providing it be subject to the same kind of identification requirements imposed upon actual Americans since it is stated in the story how applicants will be permitted to use foreign identification? Interesting how this will be allowed when American's have to submit to everything just short of a rectal exam (and it was predicted on “Futurama” that down the road one would be required to have a “colonic map” on file) in the name of homeland security and preventing terrorism, but if one happens to be from one of the protected groups more prone to commit subversion one is granted a waver in these matters.
Secondly, this credit union is being marketed to appeal to Hispanics. Would regulators allow for the establishment of a parallel institution that had no qualms about letting it be known that its founders preferred or only wanted Caucasian money?
Few Americans will have the courage to addresses these issues because of the torrents of criticism that inevitably follow from doing so. However, if valiant patriots do not do so soon, the precious heritage of citizenship will become virtually meaningless in the years to come as leftists conspire to ply their system of double standards where equality before the law will be abolished in favor of a system of racial spoils and set asides compelling all within such a domain to bow as peons of the elite.
Copyright 2006 by Frederick Meekins
Friday, February 24, 2006
My friends, this is why we must band together to stop the social blight of unrestricted air guitar.
Won't you join with me for the sake of the children, but more importantly for the sake of the COMMUNITY?
In the olden days, in response to this the little monkeys would hear, "Went to the doctor and the doctor said, 'That's what you get for jumpin on the bed.'"
But fortunately, through the consciousness raising efforts of the Bed Hoppers of America, such insensitive ignorance is becoming a thing of the past with such bigotry against unbridled bed hoppers shunned and relegated to dark corners as it should be.
By Frederick Meekins
Thursday, February 23, 2006
The life of 10 years-old William Thomas Emerson is forever changed when his family is killed when their home is struck by lightening. William eventually ends up at The Seven Stars Inn in Boston where he finds himself amidst the turbulent days leading up to America's Revolutionary War.
Written in the form of William's journal, this historical fiction provides the reader with a glimpse into young Mr. Emerson's life regarding events both mundane and profound. As a border at the Inn, William comes into contact with a committee of Patriots and assists them in a number of tasks essential to the survival of liberty in America such as aiding in the defection of a British office to the Colonial side and in ferreting out a spy from the ranks of the committee's own membership.
Crafted as a first person account, Denenberg does not gloss over incidents that would shock our contemporary sensibilities as might be the case in a more detached theoretical exposition. Neither does he sugarcoat the shortcomings of either side.
For example, not only does Denenberg depict a Redcoat pummeling an innocent bystander to death, but he also portrays a Patriot mob that vandalizes and burns down the house of a Tory sympathizer.
Of America's Founding Fathers, it has been said they pledged their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor. This truth is movingly emphasized in the book's epilogue where it is revealed what ultimately happens to the characters and one learns some of them were called upon to give the last full measure of devotion.
In addressing the purpose behind the book, Denenberg writes, "The American Revolution, more than any other event in American history, has been presented to young readers as an abstract, artificial, distant, and disembodied occurrence involving old men who wore funny clothes and later became statues and oil paintings...I hoped to accomplish two things: to reveal...what it was like to live in 1774 in Boston. And to bring the revolution to life by showing it affected ordinary people and how they affected it."
The Journal of William Thomas Emerson will help the reader better understand what those living at this period in American history had to endure and to more fully appreciate the gift of liberty those forefathers assisted in passing down to each one of us.
Copyright 2006 by Frederick Meekins
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
Monday, February 20, 2006
Sunday, February 19, 2006
There is an old Chinese curse which damns the individual to live in interesting times. Those alive here at the beginning of the twenty-first century are living in such a period as they have been given a ringside seat to view the decline and eventual demise of the West.
As the spiritual backbone of the West, Christianity must be removed if there is to be any chance of conquering that once noble civilization. One way of accomplishing this objective is by shaming the general population into abandoning those celebrations commemorating important events in the history of Christendom such as Christmas and Easter.
Thus far, most of these efforts have been directed at Christmas. However, as these secularists hone and perfect their approach, they are beginning to set their sites on the even more pivotal celebration of Easter. For if one can divert attention from the Resurrection, there is little reason to pay much attention to Christ whatsoever.
In England, the Easter season is observed with hot cross buns, which consist of a bun with a cross of icing drawn across the top. A few years ago, a bit of a controversy broke out when a number of cities in Britain stopped serving the treats and some in the media dared to insinuate political correctness and hypertolerance might be the reasons for the removal from the menu.
However, liberals can no longer deny that those sympathetic to their outlook are engaged in this gastronomical censorship out of a sense of sensitivity run amok. For according to the Suffolk Evening Star, the head teacher of Oaks Primary School in Ipswich, England has asked that the crosses be removed from the pastry for fear of offending Jehovah’s Witnesses attending the school.
Nice, isn’t it, how everybody else’s life has to come to a screeching halt? Now that the icing cross has been removed, would the school be willing to alter the recipe all together if some really whacked-out fundamentalist had a conniption fit about raisins being in the buns because of the inordinate number of New Age and Wiccan rituals that employ this dried fruit?
Probably not and rightfully so. If adherents of certain belief systems are going to get that worked up over what amounts to an innocent desert, they should withdraw from the public school system altogether. Maybe if the Russellites spent more time on education instead of pestering people by ringing doorbells early Saturday mornings, they would have a viable alternative like other denominations have established to protect their young people from what they perceive as the evils of the modern world.
The Watchtower operative interviewed about the school’s decision responded, “Hot cross buns are a pagan symbol of fertility no different to bunnies, eggs, and Easter. The Bible states we should not worship things of a pagan origin.” Unless they have been spiked with Viagra, these treats are not going to spark an orgy as they are only a piece of cake no matter what other connotations hot buns might bring to mind.
Perhaps regular visitors to Kingdom Halls should take the rest of the Bible as seriously as well and since they don’t maybe that’s the reason behind the aversion to this baked good. Remembrances of the Crucifixion and the Resurrection no doubt singe the consciences of those whose views of Jesus Christ are less than they really ought to be.
Those living in the decaying lands of the West should stop for a moment and think. If we are to give in so quickly to Jehovah’s Witnesses who are not exactly known for fits of violence, how much more quickly will we surrender to cultists and similar fanatics who rampage as matter of sport when we do not submit to their heathen peculiarities?
Copyright 2006 by Frederick Meekins
Friday, February 17, 2006
Perhaps we should agitate and rampage for government funds and favortism on the part of these folks as well, but since they aren't perverts, none of the rich and powerful are likely to care.
Dr. Stanley Montieth examines how the highest levels of the U.S. government assit in undermining immigration law in order to bring about eventual union with America, Mexico and Canada. As a result, average Americans will be compelled to endure a diminished quality of life characterized by increased crime, horrifying diseases such as leporsy, and decreasing educational standards.
A series of audio links to Southwest Radio Bible Church regarding the Purpose Driven hokem:
These programs do a good job in exposing how those that do not bow to the will of Purpose Driven clerics are booted out of the church.
Thursday, February 16, 2006
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
As part of a sting operation at a Virginia whorehouse, law enforcement personnel solicited hostesses of the establishment for various pleasurable services. However, their tactics went beyond the classic Coco the Clown segment on "Cops".
But if these ladies of the evening are going to be busted for lewd acts, certainly their gentleman callers of the constabulary literally taking one for the team in this instance should be charged with the same.
The sexually liberated will respond that there is nothing wrong with wallowing in the desires of the flesh. It is the taking of money that makes the act illegal.
But if there is nothing wrong with these illicit relations, why is it wrong to exchange money for them?
To those unwilling to take a stand for traditional morality, the only thing wrong with prostitution comes down to failing to render the libation of taxation upon the altar of the state.
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Sounds like women are as shallow as men now, wanting both looks and deep pockets. Of those that said looks did not matter, one wonders if they were being honest or merely exhibiting the duplicity inherent to the female of the species since the Garden of Eden :-p
Monday, February 13, 2006
Friday, February 10, 2006
“Address?” questioned the elderly gentleman.
“Yes, address.” the clerk impatiently clarified.
“What do you need my address for?
“To complete the transaction.”
“To complete the transaction?” questioned the elderly gentleman. “I am paying cash for my groceries.”
“Oh,” replied the clerk, “You’re one of those people.”
The elderly gentleman just shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose so.” He simply smiled, having no idea what the cashier was talking about.
“Well, gramps, I still need your address.”
“My address? I just want to buy these groceries.”’
“Look, let me get this though your old, thick head: I can’t let you buy these groceries, for the sake of the Community, until you tell me your address.”
“The ‘community‘”? What’s the community have to do with it? I just want to buy some food.”
“The Community has to do with everything. Now tell me where you live, or get out of line, you useless geezer.”
“My foot’s gonna live up your...” The pugnacious elderly gentleman caught himself before enunciating something beneath his dignity. Just because the young snots these days felt they had some kind of duty to keep nothing hidden ---- even their innermost thoughts ---- was no reason he had to let it all hang out, at least not yet anyways.
“Getting feisty, are you? We’ll see if your still so eager to disrupt communal harmony once the Social Enforcement Committee gets here.”
“Good.“ the elderly gentleman retorted, “And while you’re at it, why don’t you call the cops.”
The food distribution clerk almost had to suppress a laugh. “’Cops’?” thought the clerk. He sort of remembered hearing his own grandfather mention the word a few times, but the clerk seldom paid much attention to someone that old.
What could he learn from people like that anyway? So many of them would prattle on about how things were in the time of Before. Some even seemed to prefer that period. But what did they know? Things were so much different now, and the Community could not afford to be beholden to such outdated perspectives.
The clerk turned to his communicator. He spoke into the device. “Social Enforcement Committee, please.” Cops indeed. What an unprogressive notion. No wonder Before was such a chaotic time. Imagine, waiting for a violation of Community standards to take place before intervening to correct the situation. Now in part thanks to the Concord of Universal Community, authorities were at least permitted to take whatever steps were necessary to maintain communal balance and harmony. The underprivileged no longer had to resort to what in the Before had been referred to as “theft”; instead now those granted the task of overseeing the well being of the Community could distribute what the Community deemed to be undue excess individual resources to those needing them the most. For if the Community viewed itself as a singular unit, what was the big deal about shuffling things around?
Sure, things still weren’t perfect and problems erupted from time to time, but fortunately the Social Enforcement Committee was there to smooth things over and to ensure that Community sensibilities were abided by. So in the mind of the geezer, the clerk thought, it might only be natural to equate the Social Enforcement Committee with the police. It was just pitiable that a mind could be so limited by Before as to fail to see the pivotal social function these enlightened public servants provided beyond mere law enforcement.
“Social Enforcement Committee. How might we assist the resident?”
The food distribution clerk spoke into the communicator. “Yes, would you send a social interaction specialist over to the Food Distribution Center?”
“Could you detail the nature of the social infraction?”
“Yes, there is some geezer here who won’t give me his address.”
“Sounds like he is a serious threat to community cohesion and conformity. We’ll send someone over right away.”
The clerk switched off the communicator. “Well, pops, you can tell me your address, just leave, or wait for the social interaction specialist to get here.”
“I’m not leaving until you let me buy these groceries.”
The two stared at one another. Neither was willing to concede what each considered a matter of utmost principle: the one the right to acquire the necessities of life unhindered by undue scrutiny; the other for the need for the smallest detail to be brought under the watchful eye of the Community.
Both, for the most part, stood still. The clerk watched as the elderly gentleman drew his hand to his chest only to let it fall once more by his side.
The minutes stretched on slowly, but the tension did not subside.
The elderly gentleman brought his hand to his chest once more, only to return it to his side. Before the clerk could ask what the deal was, he noticed a figure exuding authority step through the door of the food distribution center.
“My name is Catherine. I am with the Social Enforcement Committee. What seems to be the problem?”
The food distribution clerk proceeded to relay the incident. ‘This old codger here won’t tell me his address.”
The elderly gentleman spoke up. “Just a minute, you brat. I’m sick and tired of that mouth you’ve got. Didn’t anyone ever teach you to respect your elders?” He once again brought his hand to his chest.
The old man’s words caused the buzz-cut hair on the back of Catherine’s neck to stand on end. “Respect your elders? Indeed,” she thought. Such deference belonged only to the will of the Community arrived at through consensus of all residents in good standing with proper guidance from qualified overseers of course. The suspect before standing before her appeared to be so mired in the assumptions of Before he might be a greater threat to social cohesion than she had initially believed.
The social interaction specialist turned to the elderly gentleman and asked, “What is your name?”
“Are you with the police?”
“No, I am a social interaction specialist.”
“Your some kind of social worker then. I thought the kid called the cops. It’s none of your business what my name is. I haven’t done anything wrong. All I want to do is buy my groceries.”
“Sir, it’s not a matter of doing anything right or wrong. In fact, such outdated thinking might be part of the problem. Rather it’s more about what is more in the Community interest. As such, everything is my business. The Covenant of Universal Community stipulates that as components of the larger communal organism the parts perceiving themselves as individuals do not posses the privilege of concealing information considered of interest to the Community. Having been duly appointed to the Social Enforcement Committee of the Schauungtown Residents Association, it is your obligation to cooperate in all matters as I deem necessary.”
“Look here, lady, it sounds to me like you swallowed a dictionary but not said much of anything.” The elderly gentleman brought his hand to his chest once more.
“Do not compound the seriousness of the situation with gender bias. From what I have been able to determine thus far, you are already in significant need of perceptual reconfiguration.”
The food distribution clerk asked the social interaction specialist, “What do you think the deal is with him?”
Catherine answered. “Well, I cannot be absolutely certain, but from his comments, I say he probably inhabited the area before it was annexed into the Resident’s Association Network Of Communities. People belonging to a lower cultural index such as himself were allowed to stay where they already resided since most were already located in the Laborer Wards.”
“Then what’s he doing here?” the food distribution clerk asked as the elderly gentleman stood there with his hand to his chest as he was being talked about as if he wasn’t.
The Social Enforcement Specialist continued, “Since those of that cultural index already living in those areas were never designated a new residence by the Community Association, many of them did not receive a thorough orientation to the Covenant of Universal Community or the Schauungtown Codicils. Occasionally, some of them mistakenly assume they still posses the privilege of traveling to any settlement zone they desire without prior authorization.”
The elderly gentleman spoke up. “What do you mean ‘authorization’? There weren’t any roadblocks.”
“And there haven’t been for quite some time,” Catherine clarified, “The conscientious resident is expected to abide by their assigned cultural index and remain within their designated zone unless they have been granted permission by the Residential Association for a justifiable reason.”
The elderly gentleman snapped, “Well, I think grocery shopping qualifies as one of your ‘justifiable reasons‘.”
“Actually, it does not. Each resident is assigned to their respective zone of habitation based upon the value of their contribution to the welfare of the Community. Resource allocation specialists have calculated the proper nutritional guidelines for those living within the respective zones. There is no reason why you would have to leave your sector to procure sufficient provisions.”
“That’s what you think,” the elderly gentleman snorted. “I might not be able to spout off all your fangle-dangled regulations, but I know some of these items are cheaper here than over in my ‘sector’.”
The social interaction specialist once again interjected herself to justify the position of the Community Association. “That is because the Resource Allocation Subcommittee has determined those residing in your sector are not as deserving of the commodity in question.”
The elderly gentleman grew visibly agitated. “What do you mean ‘not as deserving’?” He once again brought his hand to his chest. “Who’s to decide what I do and do not deserve other than myself?”
“There is no need to further disparage the wisdom and insight of the Community. The resource allocation process is characterized by the utmost fairness. To be frank, those assigned to your residential zone have not given as much back to the Community or proven themselves responsible enough to enjoy these nutritional commodities in higher quantity. Those whose tasks include reflection upon the nature of the Community and its administration require a higher degree of luxury than those who do little more than maintain the Community’s physical ‘shell’. Those that oversee our mental and relational coherence do so much for us. The least we can do without complaint is to make sure those of an awareness higher than our own are able to toil in comfort.”
The food distribution clerk asked the elderly gentleman, “Don’t you realize that as part of the Community that what we do for one we are doing for All? So by fulfilling our obligation, we are really giving to ourselves.”
Catherine assured the food distribution clerk, “It would be my contention that our socially disruptive senectitudian does not frequent the Toleration Fellowship.”
“Toleration Fellowship?” the elderly gentleman asked. “I don’t go there. Went to church for a while though, but stopped going towards the end of the Before. Got to where I didn’t see the point in going anymore. The place wasn’t like it use to be. Truth be known, people running the place around the time I stopped going remind me quite a bit of you people. They were always yammering on about community but not giving much of a hoot about the individual.”
Catherine’s eyes glimmered with a sense of nostalgia. “It was at that time the awareness of the All began to emerge. People realized that truth and values do not derive from some source far off in the sky but rather from within ourselves, validated of course by the Community in which we live.”
The elderly gentleman had lived to long to be duped by such nonsense and that was probably the root cause of his nonconformity. “That bull doesn’t even make sense. If values arise from within us, as you say Missy, it doesn’t matter what your Community thinks about them. You can flower it up all you want with this and that about the power within and all this and that about the All, but when you come down to it, the only authority you Community types recognize is that of those running the Community. You’re not going to admit it, of course, but what you people want, as they might say in Before, is to worship the state as your god.”
Catherine had had enough. This old fool was not as out of touch as he seemed to be. Sure, he was inexcusably ignorant of many things a good resident of the Community ought to be familiar, but he possessed an insight that could not be permitted to spread and foment discord.
“As a duly appointed social interaction specialist, under the provisions of the Covenant of Universal Community as implemented by the Schauungtown Residential Charter, I hereby declare you to be an Individual.”
The elderly gentleman already knew that he was, but from the tone in the social interaction specialist’s voice he could tell she was stating something beyond the obvious.
“As such, you have been deemed no longer worthy of enjoying the privileges and protections of the Community. Having been sanctioned as such, all trusts held in your name under provisions of the Schauungtown Residential Charter shall revert back to the Community for resource reallocation.”
“You mean my property?” the elderly gentleman clutched at his chest once more.
Catherine couldn’t help but laugh. “Your property? It hasn’t been your property in years. If you had read the Residential Charter more carefully, you would have realized you are only allowed to occupy the unit in which you dwell at the discretion of the Community Association. You should have thought about that before you decided to forsake your obligation of civic loyalty.” Catherine pressed a button on her belt communicator.
The brow of the elderly gentleman furrowed as he contemplated the implications of the sentence just handed down against him. “But what about my wife? Please. She’s as old as I am. For her sake, don’t snatch everything we have. She’s a quiet lady. Not nearly as mouthy as I am.”
“That’s too bad. As your domestic partner, she is obligated to share in whatever disposition of your residential unit and its contents is decided upon by the Community. She should have been more selective with whom she entered into binding contracts with. Perhaps she should have put community well being above petty individualistic concerns such as love and personal happiness.” Catherine sneered at those concepts as if having never made their acquaintance and perhaps even doubting their very existence.
The eyes of the elderly gentleman pleaded with Catherine not to take away everything he had worked for his entire life and most importantly provided for his “wife” as those still enamored with the terminology of Before insisted upon calling their domestic partners.
A few more social interaction specialists pulled up in front of the food distribution center in their motorized vehicular transport. To the elderly gentleman, it looked a lot like a watered-downed paddy-wagon that had had its life sucked out of it after its conversion to electric power.
The burly social enforcement specialists turned to Catherine. “Is this the discontented resident to be individualized?”
“Yes,” Catherine responded. “He also has a domestic partner. We can take her into custody when we go to liquidate the contents of his residential unit for reallocation.”
The elderly gentleman looked around. The desire to bolt was overwhelming, but there was really no where to run to. The additional social interaction specialists stepped forward to block his path encase he did. Yet despite all the power and authority they had been imbued with by the Community, even they would not be able to block the elderly gentleman’s escape.
A terror he had never felt before welled up within the elderly gentleman’s soul, so intense that it crossed the threshold from thought to sensation instantaneously. Waves of the sharpest pain radiated out from his chest throughout what seemed like his entire body.
Despite his desire not to, he could not help doubling over in agony. All hopes of retaining any semblance of strength amidst such a trial had thereby been extinguished. The elderly gentleman’s brow furrowed in despair.
The social interaction specialists, charged with the mission of upholding the well being of the Community, obviously cared little for that of the individual members of the larger social organism as one of them elbowed the elderly gentleman in the back.
“Get moving,” one of them ordered as they forcibly began to drag him.
A look of delight came over Catherine’s face. She thought to herself, “You are getting exactly what you deserve, old fool, for defying the suggestions of the Community.”
But before the social interaction specialists could drag the elderly gentleman any further, his body grew incredibly stiff and fell to the floor of the Food Distribution Center. The feeling of overwhelming fear he had experienced just moments before had been replaced with a joy as powerful in its intensity and a contentment as satisfying as the terror had been unsettling.
It no longer matter what his address had been or about the struggle he had been forced to endure to stand up for the right to keep this information from those with no legitimate need to know it. For he now he had a new address that could never be taken away from him for a capricious reallocation or subject to the petty regulations of a Community that thought more highly of itself than it really ought. He also took comfort in knowing he would see his wife shortly.
Catherine couldn’t held let out a small laugh, feeling a bit satisfied the old coot had expired right there on the spot. Nothing quite like this final act of giving back to the Community where even the socially useless consumers of resources were forced to re-embrace their unity with the Cosmic Mother. Try as some might, in the end even they had to admit they were part of the All.
But as nearly as soon as the terror felt by the elderly gentleman had been changed into incomprehensible ecstasy, Catherine’s sense of victory quickly evaporated as a figure passed by the window of the Food Distribution Center. “What is he doing here?” Catherine questioned to herself as she noticed his flowing trench coat.
“The ’Bible Peddler’.” she thought. Apparently the old fool who would no longer be a drain on the Community wasn’t the only one that did not know his proper place
Copyright 2006 by Frederick Meekins
In this audio interview, Dr. Monteith discusses how the Katrina aftermath is being used as cover for a massive New Orleans eminent domain land heist, how environmentalists prevented the repair of the levees, and how FEMA actually hindered rescue efforts, even going so far as to break up families. Though the subject interviewed emphasizes the plight of Black people too much, it is a rather informative program in the fate that might befall any of us at the hands of our government should we have the misfortune of experiencing a national disaster.
Thursday, February 09, 2006
Overall an interesting edition as the cast is humorously upbeat despite the gloomy nature of the topic.
However, they go a bit far in placing the blame on the decline of the West on those that have not had children (the Albert Mohler you are a sinner if you have not procreated doctrine). Yet I don't remember them bashing C.S. Lewis for not having any of his own. I guess there are to be two standards: one for the ruling elite and another for the breeding masses that need to produce soldiers for the fatherland since another complaint was fewer people were enlisting in the armed forces.
Maybe motivation to die for one’s country must be sparked by the perception that one’s interests are actually at stake or more importantly that the leaders of the nation actually want to win the war. Furthermore, I don’t remember any of the Bush children volunteering for duty.
To the hosts, one is selfish if one does not keep pumping out offspring beyond the average one or two kids. While there is nothing wrong with large families, isn't it just as selfish to keep having babies without considering whether one can afford to with the expectation of everyone else picking up the bill?
I don't think it is "selfishness" to desire a reasonably comfortable standard of living that isn’t even necessarily luxurious in nature. How many children is one going to be able to afford in the current real estate environment in many regions such as the Washington Metropolitan Area where cramped houses in less than desirable neighborhoods are beginning to push past $350,000?
I don't know what these radio personalities make in terms of salary, but with these mortgages alone coupled with a tax burden in some counties I know of around here topping nearly $3000 a year, how is one then going to afford private school (as many of these Christian leaders insist upon) if one is making a lower than average salary if one is not part of the benighted leadership class, especially if one is going to adhere to the additional stricture that children are better off with the mother at home instead of being neglected or mistreated by daycare personnel?
by Frederick Meekins
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Given their penchant for costumes, fans of Star Trek and Star Wars have become comic fodder for the likes of Saturday Night Live and The Simpsons.
However, one Narnia fan wanting to see the film dressed as the Wardrobe has to have them all beat.
One theater manager remarked the fanboy could see Brokeback Mountain if he was willing to come out of the closet.
by Frederick Meekins
Friday, February 03, 2006
Zeph Daniel discusses these matters with Tom Horn, author of the sci-fi novel The Ahirman Gate.