The "IIC"

On Christmas day, an islamic terrorist tried to blow up an airplane with over two hundred Americans on it. A Dutch passenger jumped on the terrorist as his explosive charge began to burn. The terrorist was subdued and the bomb fizzled.

Soon thereafter, Janet Napolitano, secretary of homeland security and one of our nation's proud idiots in charge , (hereafter iic - pronounced 'ick' and rhymes with sick), proudly announced that the system had worked.

I guess since the bomb hadn't gone off, she considered it a success.

Of course, she wasn't counting the fact that the terrorist had gotten past various layers of 'security' with explosives in his underpants;

or the fact that he was on the 'watch list' of potential terrorists;

or the fact that the terrorist's own father, an influencial Nigerian, had personally warned several of our iic that he was concerned his son might be up to terrorism against the US of A.

After a day of universal catcalls, derision and laughter, mzz napolitano admitted there was a problem, but claimed she was referring to the process after the 'alleged bomber' was taken into custody when she had said the system worked.

Four days later - yes, four days - our commander in chief of the icc made a public announcement claiming all would be done to get to the bottom of why the "isolated extremist" had been able to do what he did. There will be studies and reports, blah, blah, blah.

Note: an "isolated extremist". Our chief of the icc can't bring himself to utter the word terrorist, much less islamic terrorist.

How sadly, pathetically, gut wrenchingly nauseously the old year ends and the new year begins for the former Republic of the United States of America.

Before wishing you all a Happy New Year, I would like to apologize to those heroes of my childhood - Moe, Larry and Curley - for including their picture at the top of this post thereby implying that they are role models for the iic. Actually, they are the antidote to the icc. A few hammers to the head and pokes in the eye are called for. Where are our heroes when we need them?

Happy New Year and God help us all.

Lukewarm Spit

John Nance Garner, a former vice president of the USA once compared the worth of that office to a bucket of warm spit.

Since he didn't resign, I guess it wasn't too bad. Certainly, any undesirability attached to the position doesn't compare to the repugnance directed by our Lord to the morally wishy-washy using a related image.

As Saint John recounts Jesus' words in Revelation 3:15-16, "So then, because thou art lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spit thee out of my mouth."

I thought of this image while reading an e-mail I recently received from a friend. It contained a clever poem, by an unattributed author, seasonal and to the point, a rather sad point at that. It goes like this:

Twas the month before Christmas

When all through our land,

Not a Christian was praying

Nor taking a stand.

See the PC police had taken away

The reason for Christmas - no one could say.

The children were told by their schools not to sing

About shepherds and wise men and angels and things.

It might hurt peoples' feelings, the teachers would say

December 25th is just a 'Holiday'.

Yet the shoppers were ready with cash, checks and credit

Pushing folks down to the floor just to get it!

CDs from Madonna, an X Box, an I-Pod

Something was changing, something quite odd!

Retailers promoted Ramadan and Kwanzaa

In hopes to sell books by Franken & Fonda.

As Targets were hanging their trees upside down

At Lowe's the word Christmas - was no where to be found.

At K-Mart and Staples and Penny's and Sears

You won't hear the word Christmas; it won't touch your ears.

Inclusive, sensitive, Di-ver-si-ty

Are words that were used to intimidate me.

Now Daschle, now Darden, now Sharpton, Wolf Blitzen

On Boxer, on Rather, on Kerry, on Clinton!

At the top of the Senate, there arose such a clatter

To eliminate Jesus, in all public matter.

And we spoke not a word, as they took away our faith

Forbidden to speak of salvation and grace

The true Gift of Christmas was exchanged and discarded

The reason for the season, stopped before it started.

So as you celebrate 'winter break' under your 'holiday' tree

Sipping your Starbucks, listen to me.

Choose your words carefully, choose what you say

Shout MERRY CHRISTMAS,

not Happy Holiday!

Please, all Christians join together and

wish everyone you meet

MERRY CHRISTMAS

Christ is 'The Reason' for the Christ-mas season!

Indeed, even the sole gift of a large lump of coal seems quite desirable compared to being a glob of warm spit cast out from the mouth of Jesus to a place far worse than a slop laden bucket.

Let us pray we find the courage to stand up for the Faith in the coming days and years of spiritual warfare.

And, those days are coming... nay, they are upon us this very moment, as we carve the Christmas turkey.

Laugh or Cry

"Stupidity has a knack of getting its way." Albert Camus

Sometimes you just don't know whether to laugh or cry at the human predicament. While we rant or rave about the deficit and health care reform and the wars in Iraq and Afganistan and the Tiger Wood's soap opera, lives of quiet desperation stumble along through this vale of tears. Like Cormac McCarthy's sheriff said in his novel, No Country for Old Men , "You just can't make this stuff up." This line came to mind the other day as I scanned some headlines from around the world.

Belgium: two would be ATM machine thieves blew themselves up after miscalculating the amount of dynamite needed to do the job;

Russia: a 400 pound thirteen year old died of suffocation after snacking while watching a television special about himself and the plight of obese children.

USA (Florida): A party animal, after imbibing his fair share of the keg, found himself stalled in traffic and in need of relief. Not suffering the embarassment of a shy bladder, he got out of his car, placed a hand on the divder and leaped over to the other side promptly falling sixty feet to his death. No doubt he expected better footing.

Brazil: A thirty-eight year old former Miss Argentina died from gluteoplasty complications. As one of her many admirers lamented, "She lost everything to have a slightly firmer backside."

Ah, the bells, the bells.

Does the wise man laugh when fools cry and cry when fools laugh?

Do we laugh at these fools, or cry for them?

Do we find a place in our hearts for pity?

And what about the fools who would destroy America? They sell our posterity down the river of unimaginable debt to secure the financial support of their co-conspirators and the votes of their imbecilic supporters. They strive for a government run health care system in spite of the abject failure of such systems around the world. They wage 'wars of democracy' in lands where tribal rule has held sway for ten thousand years and the concept of democracy is as appealing as last week's fish. They splash the misadventures of a serial adulterer over the front pages to distract a gullible public from the more important news of how the country is going to hell in a handbasket.

Do we laugh at these fools or cry for them?
Do we demand a Corsican satisfaction?

Do we scream out with Kant, "Let justice be done though the heavens fall", or commiserate with Dostoevsky, who , in exasperation, stammered, "Man, man, one cannot live quite without pity."

It's enough to make a grown man cry...or laugh...

Maybe the only significant question is: does man deserve pity?

Let us hope God thinks so.

Starch in the Spine

"To exist as a human being means to exist ethically."

S.Kierkegaard

Recently, I was gratified to see there are some Christian leaders with backbones behind their lungs. Announcing unbendable principles and challenging others to join them, these leaders have drawn a line in the sand and dared the secular world of man to cross it. http://www.manhattandeclaration.org/

A few key points:

"...our faith has taught that civil disobedience is required in the face of gravely unjust laws..."

"...let it be known that we will not comply with any edict that compels us or the institutions we lead to particpate in or facilitate abortions, embryo-destructive research, assisted suicide, euthanasia, or any other act that violates the principle of the profound, inherent, and equal dignity of every member of the human family."

"...we will not bend to any rule forcing us to bless immoral sexual partnerships..."

"...we will not be intimidated into silence...or the violation of our consciences by any power on earth..."

"...under no circumstances will we render to Caesar what is God's"

This day has been approaching for the last forty years. Now is the time to take a stand against the false god mammon and that god's immoral philosophy of materialism, with its perverted view of human nature and mankind's' true end. A failure to act now will see the fall of the West, the final home and resting place of two thousand years of Judeo-Christian hope.

The great Russian writer Fyodor Dostoevsky, http://www.fyodordostoevsky.com/ , in contemplating the morass of European morality as early as the nineteenth century, and anticipating the horrors of the twentieth, referred to Europe as " a beautiful cemetary". Let us pray our United States of America does not follow Europe's example.

Visit the http://manhattandeclaration.org/ website and sign on to the cause. Like Theoden, king of Rohan, astride the swift Snowmane, let us mount our steeds and ride out in defense of the West and all the good in our two thousand year old heritage.

The Wickedness of the Virtuous

The 'virtuous' among us would have you believe that the Fort Hood Muslim terrorist is to be sympathized with. He was suffering 'pre' tramatic stress syndrom; he was lonely; he was mistreated; all the facts are not in; he was the victim of prejudice; he was mentally ill and snapped; it had nothing to do with the latest Moorish invasion and holy war against the West, blah, blah, blah.

What rank stupidity, blindness, political correctness run wild.

To listen to the chattering heads on most of the network news shows would make one vomit. The exceptions are few and far between. I am next expecting the various Christian churches, including the American Catholic Church, to cry out for understanding and forgiveness and toleration of our Muslim brothers.

The Major is a terrorist. A Muslim terrorist killer. I am glad he survived. I look forward to the media circus that awaits. Will we get to the truth? How our military political correctness and the spineless political leaders that we have look the other way when it comes to Muslim fanatics? How they fear being labeled bigots if they dare stand against evil? I can hardly wait, although I won't hold my breath that the American public will ever learn the truth.

One piece of good news today. John Allen Muhammed, another evil Moor who wished the destruction of America and who demonstrated his evilness by sniper shooting and killing ten innocent people in the DC and Virginia area back in 1990, was executed this morning. Despite the howls of 'peace loving' mush brains who abhor capital punishment, (the virtuous among us), this Muslim terrorist , quite properly, was sent on his way to hell.

In a speech about the appeasers of the Nazis, Winston Churchill said, "The malice of the wicked is reinforced by the weakness of the virtuous."

Will America and its pathetic leaders learn this lesson before the lights go out?

The Crucifix and the Pumpkin

"Europe is the Faith, and the Faith is Europe" Hilaire Belloc http://www.hilairebelloc.net/

Hilaire must be spinning in his grave nowadays, what with the state of the Faith in Europe. A recent article by the Vatican news service, http://www.zenit.org/article-27453?l=english , points out how the European new world order has barred crucifixes from schools, but given the okay for pumpkins to be displayed during the high holy days of the Halloween season.

Ah, wait until the Moors take over. They'll do something about those pumpkin infidels!

I wax nostalgic for good old Charlie Brown and his cohorts.

Patty: "You are wasting your time. The great Pumpkin is a fake."

Linus: "Everyone tells me you are a fake, but I believe in you. P.S. If you are a fake, don't tell me. I don't want to know."

The Latest Moorish Invasion & What Do Women Want?

Yesterday, an American army officer of Muslim persuasion shot over fifty fellow soldiers, killing at least thirteen. At first the media was hesitant to release his name, much less the fact he was a Muslim. Eventually, Nidal Malik Hasan's name and religion were divulged . Also learned were facts such as he yelled "Allahu Akbar" ( God is great) just before opening fire, he was born into the Muslim religion, he claimed to be Palestinian even though born in the good old US of A, he praised terrorists on the internet and protested being assigned to Iraq to take part in a war he heartily disagreed with.
Today, our very chic president is admonishing everyone not to jump to conclusions. Certaintly not! Hasan is probably just an innocent victim of profiling after the fact. Hopefully, he survives to stand trial where the truth may come out.
Then again, his profession is that of a psychiatrist and as one of the founding fathers of the profession - Sigmund Freud - once suggested, one should be a bit crazy to be a psychiatrist. Perhaps an insanity defense is in the offing. But I jest. What we have here is not a failure to communicate, but a failure to understand.
Understand this: the good old US of A along with the rest of Western civilization is witnessing the latest invasion of the Moors. What the heretics failed to achieve in the 8th and 17th centuries, they are attempting to achieve here in the 21st. Namely, the overthrow and conversion of the heathen West, i.e. Christian civilization. Major Hasan is merely another grain of sand in the hourglass of Muslim conquest. Europe is succumbing...America is on the way.

Where are the heros?

Charles Martel...the Hammer http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/03629a.htm...hero of the Battle of Tours http://www.thenagain.info/webchron/westeurope/tours.html


Don Juan of Austria http://www.nndb.com/people/856/000101553 ...hero of the Battle of Lepanto http://infoplease.com/ce6/history/a0829458.html





For a beautiful, written rendition of the Battle of Lepanto, I would recommend G.K. Chesterton's poem of that name. http://www.bartleby.com/103/91.html

Getting back to Sig. Freud knew one thing. What he knew was what he didn't know, and it perplexed him no end. As he often muttered, "Was wollen die frauen?" What do women want? Indeed.
He muttered this often in a haze of gray smoke. He was fond of cigars. As Sig also would mutter at such times, "A good woman is just a woman, but a good cigar ...that's a smoke!"
Sig never advanced beyond the oral stage to the anal and genital levels of his psychoanalyzed Weltanschauung. He died from oral cancer. Smoked!

In Smoke and Dream

"How vain the fondest hopes of mankind seem! How tempting all their promises of rest. And yet they fade away in smoke and dream."
(So said a wise man whose name faded away with the smoke and some of my brain's neurons.)

Whoop-dee-doo! Off year elections were held yesterday and the Rebublican candidates for governor in NJ and VA both won. NJ was a particularly big upset. Now all the experts are wondering whether this is a referendum on President Obama.
I say: who cares?
The fact of the matter is, the good old US of A is bankrupt and no politician is going to change this. Afterall, the only way to change the dire situation we are in would be to end most government programs, especially at the federal level. Of course, this won't happen. Americans have lost the ability, as well as the will, to be self sufficient. Without the government trough to feed at, we little piggies would starve ourselves into oblivion.
Without a life changing event, like a meteorite strike, nothing will change the situation. ( And who wants a meteorite strike?)
Our society, our country, once the greatest in God's creation, will slowly spiral downward into the dustbin of history.
I'm guessing somewhere between the year of our Lord 2050 and 2070. Fortunately, I won't be around.
Unfortunately, most of my descendants will be.

Dancing with the Stars Thriller

"If our condition were truly happy we should not need to divert ourselves from thinking about it." Pascal



The headline on the internet news page screamed "Dancing with the Stars Thriller". Turns out a television show - Dancing with the Stars - which pairs celebrities with professional dancers in a 'dance off' single elimination contest each week, had paid tribute to that earstwhile humanitarian and chimp deserter Michael Jackson. I guess they used the king of pop's tunes to stage the dances. I'm guessing because I don't watch the show. I also don't watch the shows about who can lose the most weight or who can survive longest ingesting snails or who can swap families and live happily ever after ad infinitum et nauseum.

There's distraction and there's distraction. Personally, I'd rather enjoy my own personal distraction, (e.g. sipping a good scotch while being transported to heaven's gate by a Beethoven symphony), than living vicariously through some obese fellow's distraction of getting his stomach stapled so he can shed some ugly pounds. Off with his head. A lot easier.

True, Pascal was a bit gloomy at times..."Man finds nothing so intolerable as to be in a state of complete rest,without passions, without occupation, without diversion, without effort. Then he faces his nullity, loneliness, inadequacy, dependence, helplessness, emptiness. And at once there wells up from the depths of his soul boredom, gloom, depression, chagrin, resentment, despair."

You get the picture. But all is not lost. Pascal was not a killjoy. He recognized we weakling humans needed diversion some of the time.

I just prefer a more personalized kind. Not the empty headed, screeched filled lunacy of the babbling masses.

Where and what is Zombie Island?

with apologies to Blaise http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/11511a.htm

Quite simply: the here and now. Here being this island Earth, and what being existence, literally the 'present' moment, the now, the only time we have.

We are all sojourners on this lonely outpost in the vast cosmos, a pinpoint in the deep freeze of space, hurtling among the stars, all the while surrounded by the possibility of instant annihilation.

We are suspended between past and future, locked into the only moment we ever experience, the now of existence. The now terrifies us, being so close to instant annihilation. We flee from it. We remember the past and imagine the future, all the while avoiding the now with work and play and sleep.

We are alive to the past and future, yet dead to the now. We are the living dead. We are zombies.