MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL!

Here's hoping you and yours celebrate the Lord's gift to all mankind this day, the birth of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ!

Merry Christmas !

Common Sense vs. the ACLU

'So a guy walks into the BMV wearing goat horns...stop me if you've heard this one.'

No, really. He did.

It's not a joke, but it should be.

Phelan Moonsong, 56 years old and a self- procalimed pagan 'priest', entered the Bangor, Maine Bureau of Motor Vehicles office to obtain a state identification card...while wearing goat horns strapped to his head, held in place by fishing line. After telling a clerk what he needed, Moonsong was told he'd have to remove his horns; BMV policy states customers cannot wear any head covering for their operator's license or state I.D. photos...with exceptions.

One of those exceptions is for religious reasons.

Moonsong, who considers the horns his 'religious head dress', refused to remove them; the BMV clerk took his photo anyway, but said Moonsong would have to provide documentation to the Bureau of Motor Vehicles where the wearing of the goat horns was required before his identification could be released.

It seems a member of the 'priest of Pan' men's group had given the horns to Moonsong in 2009 after the member's goat had died, a gift Moonsong deems his 'spiritual antennae' and part of his religious attire. That being the case, Moonsong sent Maine's Secretary of State a personal letter requesting the exemption, along with a pamphlet concerning diversity training for pagan religions. When Moonsong didn't hear back from the Secretary's office, he called them...and invoked the ACLU card.

In my world, 'ACLU' stands for American Crybaby Liberals Union. That wasn't the case for Maine's BMV, however; even though their photo guidelines state that religious headwear must be '...required and does not obstruct or shadow...' the person's face, they issued his state identification card a few days later.

In other words: they buckled. They gave in. They folded. The operative word in their guidelines is 'required'; the BMV should have demanded pagan organizational documentation that Moonsong's horns are mandatory head gear, that he can't practice paganism without their utilization.

But they didn't.

Instead, they gave in. I'm sure Maine's BMV will state that they wanted to avoid costly litigation and thus save the state's taxpayers some money. They issued the card to Moonsong ( not his birth name; he legally changed it this past summer ) without the hint of a whimper and then scurried away, collective tails between their legs.

The American circus rolls on.

Another Episode of 'What Were They Thinking?'

You've been out on the town with friends, enjoying the night life. Eventually, after the bars close, you decide to stop at a decent restaurant and grab a bite to eat before heading home.

You and your friends walk into Fortunato's Italian Market, a popular eatery in St. Petersburg, get seated and order your meal. About halfway through, just before another fork full of spaghetti enters your mouth, a ceiling tile lands on your table.

Followed shortly by a falling man.

James Donald Olsen, age twenty-four and roaringly drunk, fell through the ceiling of the restaurant as patrons dined inside, causing over $1,000 worth of damage.

Police nor management have any idea how Olsen got into the ceiling, as there is no attic space in the restaurant, but police did have space for Olsen inside a jail cell. He was held on charges of criminal mischief and public intoxication.

No patrons were injured.

James Olsen

'Victimless' Crimes and Presidential Pardons

There is no such thing as a 'victimless' crime, nor is there 'non-violent' crime.

Regardless of what the Office of the President may think, for every action there is a reaction. So-called 'white-collar' crime, in which an actor seizes control of property belonging to another through means of the manipulation of intellectual or financial information, is in itself non-violent; however the losses inflicted have very devastating effects for the victims. Driving someone to suicide because they lost everything they have is an indirect consequence of white-collar crime in some cases and, believe me, suicide can be very violent.

Likewise with convicted narcotics traffickers, only in their cases the results are much more visible. Not only is the blood of overdose deaths on their hands, so too is the blood of every murder committed by addicts in the act of robbing a victim in order to feed their addiction, of every murder victim killed in a drug turf war, of every person who loses their life in a traffic crash caused by someone under the influence of drugs.

The list is endless.

The predominance of crime in the United States is driven by illegal drugs and acts associated with addiction; the aforementioned nurders and robberies, the break-ins, thefts, credit card misuse, bad checks...again, the list is endless. Drug trafficking and drug addiction have taxed police and fire resources to the limit; the health care system, from hospital emergency rooms to addiction treatment centers, are stretched to their breaking points.

Yet the current President sees fit to release from prison these purveyors of death and crime, crime that directly affects each one of us at the very least through skyrocketing insurance rates, by way of his powers of commutation and pardon. According to a study completed by the respected Pew Research Center, almost one-third of federally-sentenced drug traffickers commit new crimes related to trafficking after release, some while still on post-release supervision.

It is a pattern that must change.

It will be a monumental task, hard labor on the part of law enforcement, the court and corrections systems. It must go hand-in-hand with educating the public on drug addiction, an increase in the numbers of federally-funded addiction treatment centers and real sanctions against those countries whose criminal elements continually flood drugs into our nation. It will not be easy, it will not be cost-effective but it must be done; it must be done before we lose an entire generation to addiction and its consequences.

Because, after that generation is lost, so will we lose our nation.

A Maverick Spoke But No One Listened

“…a date which will live in infamy…”

President Franklin Roosevelt opened his speech requesting a declaration of war vote from Congress against the Empire of Japan with those words, words more closely associated with FDR than any others he had ever spoken during his tenure as President.

Roosevelt made that speech before Congress on December 8, 1941, the day after Japan’s infamous attack against military installations on the island of Oahu…an attack that had been predicted by at least one officer in the United States Navy as early as the end of March, 1941.

That officer’s name was then-Captain Ellis Zacharias, a man who knew of whence he spoke.

Zacharias, you see, had twice been posted as Naval Attache in Japan during his two tours of service as an intelligence officer; during his time there, Zacharias developed numerous contacts within the Japanese military and intelligence community, most of whom regarded the young officer with great respect for having learned their native language and becoming fluent in it. Captain Zacharias, a skilled poker player, had on occasion played cards with the man who would one day conceive and develop attack plans for Pearl Harbor.

That Japanese officer was Isoroku Yamamoto, a man who would become the Empire’s most beloved war hero.

Captain Zacharias also tasked himself with learning as much as he could about Japanese culture and its military mindset, a project that would culminate in a meeting with Admiral Husband Kimmel, Commander-in-Chief of the United States Navy’s Pacific Fleet, a full nine months prior to the unannounced attack that would have completely decimated America’s Pacific sea power had the aircraft carriers Lexington, Enterprise and Saratoga been in port.

During that meeting, Captain Zacharias told Kimmel that rising tensions between the United States and the expansionist Japanese Empire would precipitate a surprise attack on Pearl Harbor “…on a weekend, probably on a Sunday morning…” by using carrier-based aircraft positioned north of the Hawaiian Islands because of the prevailing winds. Zacharias expanded on his theory by telling CINCPAC Kimmel that the attack could be prevented by conducting daily patrols using aircraft and fleet vessels out to a distance of 500 miles from the islands; Kimmel’s response that it would be an impossible task due to manpower and resource limitations caused Zacharias to respond: “Well, Admiral, you’d better get them because that is what is coming.”

Nine months later, as Captain Zacharias steamed into Pearl Harbor as commander of the heavy cruiser USS Salt Lake City the day after the attack, the profound destruction that greeted him was no surprise. In addition to Admiral Kimmel, Zacharias had also warned a staff member of then-Chief of Naval Operations Adm. Harold Stark in November, 1941, that an attack on Pearl Harbor was imminent. However, based on Zacharias’ perceived maverick attitude amongst naval hierarchy, his warnings fell on deaf ears.

Ellis Zacharias would go on to earn commendations and battle stars for the ships he commanded during the war, in part prompting his promotion to Rear Admiral upon his retirement from the Navy in 1946. His aspiration to the office of Director of Naval Intelligence, however, was never met, having been passed over for that position due in part to his ‘loose cannon’ reputation amongst Navy brass because of, among other things, the revelation of warnings he’d issued prior to December 7^th, 1941.

As in the business world, you can’t make your superiors look inept and expect a promotion.

Ellis Zacharias died in West Springfield, New Hampshire, due to complications after suffering a heart attack, on June 27, 1961. He is interred at Arlington National Cemetery in Virginia.

                           

Rear Admiral Ellis Zacharias

We Must Be Vigilant

I wanted to wait a couple of days before broaching this topic, which in retrospect turned out to be a good idea.

I wanted facts, not rumors and innuendos.

Abdul Artan, a Somali-born student at Ohio State, intentionally rammed his car into a crowd of students outside the school's engineering building Monday, then exited and started slashing them with a butcher's knife. In all, eleven students and one OSU professor were injured before Artan was shot and killed by a campus police officer. None of those injured in Artan's attack sustained life-threatening injuries; two of the victims underwent surgery to repair orthopedic damage caused by Artan's vehicle.

What's missing in this story? There is means, in this case Artan's car and large knife; there is opportunity, that being a crowd of students and instructors standing on a sidwalk, exposed and in the open; there is intent, as illustrated by Artan driving over a curb to complete the act of inflicting harm.

Where is the motive? What would drive this young man to harm total strangers?

Islam.

Before anyone accuses me of being an 'Islamophobe', I'd like to point out a few things. First, a 'phobia' is having an unreasonable fear of something. I don't fear Islam; I fear the cause-and-effect of radical Islam. Secondly, nowhere in the first part of this post did I mention the words 'Islam' or 'Muslim', yet this incident would not have happened without them. Artan said so in a Facebook post just minutes before his attack.

'...if you want us Muslims to stop carrying lone wolf attacks, then make peace with Dawla in al sham...by Allah, we will not let you sleep...you will not celebrate or enjoy any holiday...'

Dawla in al sham. Who are they?

They're the peace-loving members of ISIS...you know, those guys who rape, torture and sell non-Muslim women; drown, hang, burn alive and cut heads off non-Muslims. They are also the tolerant, peaceful people who throw gay men off the roofs of tall buildings for being homosexual. ISIS also kills othe Muslims for not being Muslim enough.

Yeah, those guys. We're supposed to make peace with them.

I don't think they know what the word means.

Artan's attack, in terms of actual infliction of damage, was a failure; however, in terms of propaganda, he hit a home run. Radical Islam has claimed his actions as their own, an attack they will use to recruit and inspire other fringe-radical Muslims here in the United States. We must be prepared.

We must pray for peace in our land...but we must also be prepared to defend her.

'50s In The Rear-View...

As today dawned, so did my foray into the world of being a sexagenarian.

On reflection of the past five decades in my life I realized several things, chief among them being how much our world has changed.

I remember when school lunch boxes were metal, along with highway construction traffic barrels,  and seat belt laws didn't exits...nor did car seats for kids. I remember our home phone being on a party line...meaning we shared the line with several other families in our neighborhood.

I remember getting on the school bus and being greeted by the driver, Jerry, who always seemed to be smoking a cigarette. I remember my first grade school, Raemelton, conducting bomb drills during the Cuban missile crisis. Not tornado drills, but bomb drills...as in 'nuclear'.

I remember being in class at Raemelton when the principal announced over the loudspeaker that President Kennedy had been assassinated. I remember several teachers crying, too. I also remember being upset that television coverage of the Kennedy assassination preempted Saturday morning cartoons. No Huckleberry Hound or Deputy Dawg for me that morning.

I remember Dad teaching me how to box with boxing gloves when I was six years old...and nailing him square in the nose when he wasn't looking, he being on his knees in our living room as he gave me instruction. I also remember the wild ride to Mansfield General Hospital when I ripped my hand open trying to climb onto the garage roof that same year, Dad behind the wheel, horn blaring at every intersection. The surgeon, Dr. Myron Reed, told Mom and Dad he'd stopped counting sutures at number sixty while repairing the damage. I also remember going to his office to have the stitches removed several weeks later, the Doc smoking a cigar as he worked.

I remember watching Walter Cronkite delivering the evening news on TV, always commenting somewhere along the way about the war in Viet Nam. I also remember his closing line at the end of every broadcast...."and that's the way it is, (insert date)...". I also remember watching live coverage of the 1968 Democratic Convention riots in Chicago, where thousands of anti-war protesters clashed with police in the streets. Today's anti-Trump protests pale in comparison ( thankfully ).

I remember when people were ashamed to be on welfare or public assistance; now, two generations later, for some it has become a way of life. I remember abortion being illegal, the Cold War dominating the news, the Rolling Stones being banned from the Ed Sullivan Show for song lyrics; I remember when patriotism was a thing to be proud of and those who burned our flag reviled in the media for it. I remember a girl wearing a paper dress to Mifflin School in sixth grade...and it promptly getting torn. Female students having to call a parent for a change of clothes because their skirts were too short. Corporal punishment administered by teachers when a student misbehaved. I remember when we carried our books by hand; no book bags or back packs. I NEVER remember school shootings happening when I was growing up, and seemingly every home having a firearm.

I remember going 'Trick-or-Treating' with my sister Joyce...without our parents... and it being dark outside as we did so, because no one feared for the safety of kids in our neighborhood back then. I remember kids riding bikes without wearing helmets, toy guns that didn't have orange-tipped barrels and being able to buy a Hershey bar for ten cents.

I remember gasoline being a dollar per gallon, when $500 was more than enough for a week-long vacation as we traveled out West...by car. I also remember sleeping at night along the highway in our brand-new 1962 Chevy Bel-Aire station wagon somewhere in New Mexico near Albuquerque, and seeing the Grand Canyon during that trip.

When I was growing up, we weren't wealthy in terms of possessions and money by any stretch of the imagination, but our family never went hungry, we always had clean clothes and a roof over our heads. There were plenty of kids my age in our neighborhood, we had woods behind the house that had a creek running through it and parents looked out for not only their own kids but every kid their children played with.

It was a happy life, a childhood I'm thankful for.

Here's hoping the next sixty years are just as happy.