My productivity has dropped off considerably as of late here at Townhall. I feel I owe my visitors an update on what’s going on. The web site Little Green Footballs has a closed membership that only opens registration for new members for brief periods of time at the random whim of the site-master. Since LGF is one of my daily reads, I’ve been there numerous times, but as fortune would have it, I chanced to visit while registration was open recently, and promptly did so. Members of the community are called Lizards and in joining, I’ve become a Lizard in my own right in good standing.

I then began to explore the member’s only parts of the now familiar website and found the Lizard Lounge; a chat room for the Lizards to congregate and argue and swap ideas in real time. I’ve suggested this feature to the powers that be at Townhall several times in the past to no avail. Now instead of the endless sifting of threads, I can actually interact with my fellow Lizards, a community very much like the gang here at Townhall. Moonbats get sifted out fairly quickly, but it certainly isn’t an echo chamber by any means. Most evenings lately, I’ve been there chatting, arguing, telling jokes, and just being the irascible Scottie you all have grown to know. I’m sure the novelty will wear off soon enough, but in the meantime if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to see a man about a Lizard.

Scottie

If Barrak Obama truly is the post-racial candidate that will unite three hundred million Americans in racial harmony, why has he been so patently unsuccessful at ameliorating the obvious racist tendencies of his pastor of over twenty years? It’s not for lack of time. It’s not for lack of eloquence. I suspect it’s a lack of ability to do so, don’t you? And if that’s the case, then isn’t it obvious now that what he’s selling is something he really can’t deliver?

   With Obama’s Philadelphia speech to explain his relationship with Reverend Wright, a cacophony of articles and opinion are endlessly bringing up the concept of “white guilt”. Well I for one plead not guilty. I’ve never owned a slave, nor have any of my ancestors. I have never prevented anybody, black or otherwise, from achieving their potential. I don’t view black people as a monolithic group, nor do I give much credence to the concept of black “leaders”.

   I have throughout my life dealt with every black person I’ve encountered as the individual he or she is, giving them the benefit of the doubt until their individual character could be discerned. Some I’ve met were natural leaders that I would gladly follow into the hobs of hell; others have been as close to me as my own brothers. Some have been talented coworkers and others have taught me valuable skills. Some have been hateful bigots that were discarded in short order. There is no monolithic body of black people; there is only an accumulation of many individuals that share pigmentation.

   As to the argument that I’ve been the recipient of largess from society simply because of my race, I’d truly like to know where that’s happened. I’ve been turned down for many positions I’ve applied for, I’ve been pulled over by the police when I’ve wandered into areas where I was out of place, and the education I received wasn’t some form of largess, I had to work very hard to attain it. My admission to college wasn’t because I was white, it was because I was a straight A student. My tuition wasn’t paid for me because I was white; it was paid because I’ve served my country. The benefits I have received from society are the result of hard work on my part, and sacrifice to the society first.

   I’ve taken my licks at the hands of fate without seeking to blame others for it. Sometimes you just draw the Wonka ticket and have to make the best of it. I’ve done a lot of jobs I wouldn’t wish on anyone. I know the sting of hot sand on sweaty flesh in the hot August evenings at a foundry, where I used a sledgehammer to break castings loose of their moulds to cool. I know what it feels and smells like to work all day in a pig pen shoveling matted straw and poop out of the pens. I’ve worked on roofs with my boots and pants cuffs covered with hot tar in the sweltering sun. I’ve cleaned grease traps in restaurants and shoveled rotten corn from the bottoms of storage silos. Each of these jobs built my character and provided me funds along the way. None of these jobs were at the expense of anyone else.

   In short, I have nothing to feel guilty about. I haven’t sold drugs, didn’t quit school before I graduated, and never sired a child out of wedlock. I don’t go through life with a chip on my shoulder blaming others for my misfortunes. I simply refuse to buy the premise of a hate mongering reverend that has the audacity to blame racism for the problems in the black community. That a Princeton educated lawyer with a half a million dollars in annual income and a serious candidate for president wants to tell me how bad black people have been treated is laughable on its face. Here’s a sermon that should be preached every Sunday until it soaks in. Get down off your cross; build a bridge with the lumber; and GET OVER IT! As for me atoning for my “white guilt”, I have nothing to atone for, so go pound sand.

Scottie

It seems like the anti-military and anti-recruitment zealots aren't against fighting per se. They fight quite vigorously against their fellow citizens and those that ensure their right to protest. It is people that will fight back that seem to escape their unhinged and unpatriotic attacks. If only they could gin up comparable outrage towards those intent on destroying them and their way of life.

I see that California has executed a one-two punch. First they asserted that parents couldn't object to the content being taught to their children under the presumption that the children were put into school voluntarily. Now they are told that they aren't qualified to withhold their children from those same schools to teach them themselves. So are the children's in those schools really there voluntary? Doesn't seem to matter either way, does it? It takes a village to destroy family values.

Most schools don't permit students to participate in extracurricular activities if they are failing in their regular course requirements. Shouldn't we apply the same logic to government? Until they can make the courts work, defend the country, and secure the nation's borders, why should they be given license to dabble in social engineering? I note that most of this extracurricular (and extra-constitutional) activity gets failing grades as well.

I was a capitalist when I had nothing, and although I still have very little, I'm still a capitalist. I don't resent those that have more; I resent those that would try to prevent me from attaining more by demonizing those of greater achievement. I'm grateful to have had the opportunity to steer my own life in whichever direction I wished, something very rare in the history of mankind. What I have is largely the result of my own stewardship of my life.

When you give someone the shirt off your back, that is charity. When someone takes your shirt from you at gunpoint to give it someone they deem more worthy, that is tyranny; or socialism as it's currently called.

Nothing ruins a man more than a life of unearned ease. To have succor at the expense of others without the wit, will and ability to achieve it on one's own breeds nothing but contempt for those that labor and sacrifice from those that do not. Hunger and poverty can be powerful motivators, given the chance to work their magic, when combined with the freedom to seek a cure for them by one's own efforts.

I support the idea that every vote should count; but, I do not support the idea that illegitimate votes should. Those opposed to voter ID requirements are really supporting nothing short of fraud and anarchy by implying that those that are disenfranchised by this trifling inconvenience have a legitimate franchise in the first place.

Our preacher gave a sermon today that was simply stunning. I wish I could convey it in its entirety, but I had to walk out about midway to avoid a stroke. He began by relating a recent group meeting he attended wherein the folks were broken into groups at different tables and left to share a meal of what was on them. He noticed that different tables had greater or lesser quantities of food on them and he perceived that as being very “unfair”. While the occupants at his and other tables had no problem sharing the food on their own tables, his mind only arrived at the “proper” solution on the drive home. “We should have moved all of the tables together into one big table and shared everything!”

Of course the "tables" are clearly a metaphor for the nations of the world, and pushing them all together is unmistakably the One World solution. But his premise rests on the faultiest possible base. If the tables are nations, then isn’t the food on them the result of the productivity of those seated at them? Isn’t this disparity the result of differing approaches to governance, freedom, and ingenuity? The fact that one table had more on it than another merely indicates that different results were achieved by different means. The proper response would be to look at those with less on them, and to try to determine why the results reflected there were so small in comparison. Perhaps less freedom, more government, and other social dysfunctions in the less productive are at the root of the problem? You see, different systems produce different results. This is something that the multi-cultural moral relativists deliberately ignore. To them, unequal results emanate from “unfairness”.

The good reverend’s answer (i.e. Socialism) is to simply usurp the fruits of the more productive in order to assuage the poor results of those less so. This is always the preferred solution of the Left. Don’t improve the behavior of those achieving poor results; instead, penalize those that are more productive.  What is Christian about enabling your neighbors to continue to live in squalor and rewarding their social dysfunction? Does anybody benefit by preserving the illusion that their system is just as good as another when it clearly isn’t?

I wonder how “fairly” the contents of his table would be shared if he was seated across from someone that loathed everything about him and had as their deepest desire his immediate extermination? It might be an eye opening exercise for him. Doesn’t he realize that there are people that would starve him to death before sharing a crust of bread with him at some of the "tables" in the real world? His lifestyle and education seem to have blinded him to the possibility that there are people in our world that wish him dead simply because of his religious beliefs. They don’t share his ideology or his tolerance, nor do they share his willful blindness to reality.  The belief that everyone at every table shares the same values is absurd; and different values also produce different results.

Continuing his table theme, he next invoked one populated by Palestinians and Israelis that had each lost children in the violence of that internecine conflict, presumably to point out the obvious moral equivalence of the two groups. Yet there is no equivalence between them beyond their loss of children. Apparently, how and why their respective children died is irrelevant to the good reverend. Dead is dead and it doesn’t matter why it happened. It isn’t the Israelis that strap bombs to their children in order to inflict as much damage as possible upon the innocent. Israelis don’t teach their children to hate the Palestinians. That some children in Palestine are accidently killed by Israel’s legitimate acts of self defense is in no way equivalent to the Palestinian’s penchant for strapping explosives to their children in order to deliberately kill and maim innocent Israelis. Does any rational person believe that Israel lacks the means to eradicate the Palestinians in their entirety if it chose to do so? And yet they haven’t.  Does any rational person believe that the Palestinians wouldn’t eradicate the state of Israel if it had the ability to do so?  Since doing so is enshrined in their charter, I tend to believe it. How are the two morally equivalent?

I thought Socialism was antithetical to religion, a construct that substituted the secular state for the church. And yet here its tenets are being preached with earnest sincerity from the pulpit of a mainstream church. No doubt, those that refuse to share the fruits of their labors “fairly” should be compelled by force if necessary. I wonder if the good reverend would be so sanguine if I took his vehicle away from him using the same logic. It just isn’t “fair” that he has more than me. And if he won’t give it to me, I should take it from him by force. You see, his education and work aren’t the reason he has more than me; that can’t possibly be the reason. It’s just not “fair”! He’s just being greedy and selfish to have more than I do. Pity he can’t extrapolate that the cushy lifestyle he currently enjoys would have to come down considerably to be “fair” in the eyes of the residents of sub-Saharan Africa. And by destroying his own wealth and lifestyle, does he truly believe the lives of those residents will be greatly improved? I don’t.

It would seem the good reverend has been educated to the point that ideology has replaced his ability to reason. Unfortunately, I fear he is irretrievably lost intellectually. I’ll grant that he actually believes in his heart that he is correct. But I’m equally certain that if the world he envisions actually came to fruition, he wouldn’t like it very much. How sad for the congregation politely absorbing this twaddle from the pulpit as “Gospel”. It’s time for me to find another church. I need spiritual guidance, not political indoctrination; particularly when it advocates a system that has failed miserably every place it has been tried. God help those remaining, they're going to need it.

Scottie

 

For forty days and forty nights heavy rain poured down upon the earth (Genesis 7:12) God clears the slate and starts over again

"And he [Moses] was there with The Lord forty days and forty nights; he neither ate bread nor drank water. And he wrote upon the tables the words of the covenant (Exodus 34:28). Moses clears the slate and enters a new covenant with God on behalf of His people.

So he [Elijah] got up and ate and drank. Strengthened by that food, he traveled forty days and forty nights until he reached Horeb, the mountain of God. There he went into a cave and spent the night (1 Kings 19:8-9). Elijah clears the slate and prepares to receive the Lord’s instructions.

Then Jesus was led by the Spirit into the desert to be tempted by the devil. After fasting forty days and forty nights, he was hungry (Matthew 4:1-2). Jesus clears the slate and prepares for His ministry on earth.

He presented himself alive to them by many proofs after he had suffered, appearing to them during forty days and speaking about the kingdom of God (Acts 1:3). Jesus clears the slate and prepares himself and his flock for his ascension into heaven.

In all of these passages, a forty day rite of purification and preparation occurs. On this Ash Wednesday, let us solemnly enter Lent mindful of its meaning: a forty day period of purification, reflection, and preparation. The central tenet of the Christian faith – the resurrection of the Living Christ -- is at hand. Let us prepare for the occasion and celebrate Easter this year with clean slates of our own.

May God continue to bless us and this great nation he has favored us with.

Scottie

With the recent departure of Heath Ledger, we revisit a phenomenon that recurs with startling regularity in our culture these days. Like John Belushi, Kurt Cobain, Chris Farley, Anna Nichole, and River Phoenix, Heath has checked out of life far too early. Given Brittany Spears’ current psychological gyrations, her fate seems ordained to follow suit absent some kind of serious intervention. What is wrong with these people? Surely they have it all; cars, cash, celebrity, mansions, and every other trinket their hearts desire. These folks have an endless supply of willing sexual partners. They employ platoons of people to handle their every whim and clean up every mess and inconvenience. Since they obviously have it all, what gives?

I propose that they have nothing of real value. They have no religion to anchor them in the storms. They have no true friends, nor do they receive and give any deep abiding love. They have lots of meaningless stuff, but they’re missing the brakes necessary to keep their lives under control. It is inevitable that their life’s “trains” will eventually derail in spectacular fashion, to the breathless shock of their peers and the glee of the media in full feeding frenzy. Another young narcissist with no values, no faith, and no love cashes in his or her chips and leaves the casino, a victim of the paradox of having everything and nothing simultaneously.

If you want to have it all, let me make a few suggestions. First and foremost, surround yourself with friends that will tell you when you’re out of line and keep them. Include in that group some that are older than you are, people that can share their wisdom with you when the going gets rough. You’d be surprised how often the things that happen to us have already happened to those that went before us. An honest friend that was your friend when you were nobody is the most precious commodity on the planet; don’t discard them on your journey through life. Perhaps Harry Chapin said it best in his song, “I Let Time Go Lightly”, with the verse:

“Old friends, they mean much more to me than the new friends,
Cause they can see where you are,
and they know where you've been.”

Second, realize that you are a part of something bigger than yourself and show some respect for it. You’ve been blessed to live in the greatest nation ever devised by mankind. It has its problems, but there is no Utopia here on earth and there never will be. Look around the world for anything better. If you find it, spend some time there and give yourself a chance to discover the other side of the coin you think is so shiny. If you appreciate this nation and the benefits it has endowed to you, defend it. That’s right, serve your country. Invest in this nation. It will give you an unshakable foundation upon which to build a quality life and a perspective of ownership unlike anything else.

Get married and have some kids before you realize how much work it is and how much sacrifice it requires. It’s the reason you are here in the end; to produce, train and nurture your eventual replacements in the human race. Your children are the vessels into which you pour your values, traditions, and hopes for the future. Nothing else you do on earth is more important than to forge your links to immortality. It’s a tough job, but ultimately the most rewarding one you’ll ever find. Invest your time and energy in your wife and family. Remember, the time and attention you invest means more than any other “stuff” you provide.

Try to do something with your life that adds real value to society. Pick something that makes the world a better place. Build things, create things, help people, and leave more behind you than a dusty record of attendance. Avoid destructive careers. Don’t make a living out of complaining, finding fault, and tearing things down; instead create something of lasting value in the miniscule cosmic tick of your life. Invest in the future, in your community and your nation. Make your life’s work count for something.

Finally, learn to assume the position on a regular basis. That’s right, get on your knees before the living God and invest in a relationship with Him. Search your heart, and find your own path to Him. Exercise your human capacity to understand and realize that there are some things that humans cannot understand. Realize that taking some things on faith is the best you can do. A Godless life is a life without meaning; one no more significant than that of a bacteria growing in a discarded Petri dish. Look around and think about it. Is your entire existence a random combination without any cosmic purpose? Of course it isn’t; you are here for a reason. You are here to invest the fleeting moment you’ve been given to the highest purpose you can before it comes to a close.

What good are all the “stuff”, and the sycophants, and the glory to the departed Mr. Ledger today? Unfortunately, he didn’t invest in the things in life that offer a lasting return. When his life took off, he didn’t have the anchors he needed to stop it from spiraling out of control. In spite of “having it all”, in the end he had less than most. He just didn’t make the right investments.

Scottie

Charles R. Miller Jr. 1/18/2008 --

Please join me in welcoming the newest addition to the Heartland Patriot clan. Little Charlie Jr. arrived yesterday at four o’clock in the evening and the Missus has been beside herself with excitement at the birth of a new grandchild. Her joy is uncontainable and she would like to share it with you all. The little bundle of joy premiered at eight pounds, twelve ounces, twenty and a half inches long with an abundant mane of black hair. His big sister Chloe is hanging out with us at Heartland Central for a couple of days to give the new parents a chance to absorb their newfound fortune. Now if you will all excuse me, I have an appointment with a big old fat cigar to accompany my shameful gloating at this miraculous new link in the chain of immortality.

Scottie

I’ve been to a sleep clinic before, so I didn’t think I would be surprised by much during my visit last night to Billy-Bob’s Sleep Clinic and Tire Care Center in Indianapolis, but I was wrong. I was working on the apparently false assumption that people in the business of studying sleep and sleep disorders would know a little something about sleep. Again I was wrong, very wrong. The absurdity of it all is impossible to put into words . . . but I will try nevertheless. I know it is medicine, but try to remember who the customer is in this transaction as you follow along.

First there was the paperwork. Most places will conduct an interview when you arrive and put your information into a computer. At Billy Bob’s, they opted not to waste resources on newfangled data storage devices or personnel, and decided to co-opt my time instead with several poorly designed forms. I can understand the need for my name and Social Security number on these various forms, but why do I have to give them my phone number, home address, spouses name, and in fact the same information on all four different forms in differing orders?

Feeling frisky, I inquired as to why I was providing the same information several times and was told that it was because the Doctors wanted it that way. When I asked the poor soul doing the intake whether there was any consideration of what the customer wanted, in this case me, he disappeared. His replacement was a very large fellow that would be my antagonist for the remainder of my stay at Billy-Bob’s. And of course he had yet another form that again asked for the exact same information in yet another order. He also had another document with him in very fine 8pt type roughly the same length as the Magna Charta and he seemed annoyed that I would have the poor taste to actually pull out my glasses and read it to his accompanying toe-tapping and multiple glances at his watch.

This well crafted document basically said that while I was at Billy-Bob’s, they were free to snoop into my medical records (I thought they were supposed to be adding to them), that they could pretty much kill me as I slept and I would have no recourse other than to take the matter to an arbitrator of their choosing (probably Billy-Bob’s Arbitration and Hair Care), and that I agreed to pay for their services no matter how much they charged (here as everywhere else in the medical profession, nobody at Billy-Bob’s had the slightest clue how much they charged for their services) Apparently put off by what he perceived as a trick question, my gorilla sized attendant retreated to regroup and to file these new forms in whichever pigeon hole they belonged.

I changed into my Spiderman sleeping attire (with matching undies!) and settled into what would be my torture rack for the evening. Most sleep clinics use hotel beds in order to give their clients a reasonable chance to get a night’s sleep that closely approximates a normal night’s sleep at home. At Billy-Bob’s, customer comfort isn’t a consideration. I was given a bed that had obviously been usurped from the emergency room. I know that because it was a perfect example of the kind of firm hard surface upon which one performs CPR. With a sleep number approaching if not exceeding 100, this bed approximated a concrete slab with an old camp cot mattress thrown on top of it. When I pointed this out to the beefy attendant, he said the other beds were even worse. Not wishing to further provoke him after my previous demonstrations of reading and reasoning ability, I resigned myself to this miniature slab for the evening and took him at his word.

I flipped on the television and scanned the channels. I found FOX news and decided to be grateful for this singular creature comfort thus far offered. While I watched the boob tube, my burly caretaker came in and fussed endlessly getting dozens of wires attached to various locations about my head and body. We chatted during the process and he seemed to relax a bit and so did I. After watching TV for a couple of hours, my handler returned and turned off the TV. When I told him I could not fall asleep without a TV on, he told me to try anyway. I asked him why the TV had to be off and he informed me that the glow from it interfered with the videotape they were taking of me. He was again put off when I asked him why interfering with the videotape was of greater significance than interfering with my ability to get to sleep, which was the point of the whole exercise after all.

I tried to negotiate a compromise that made perfect sense to me. “Why not just set the sleep timer? The video tape of me laying here awake isn’t of much value is it?” He then confessed that at Billy-Bob’s, they didn’t have sleep timers on their television sets. “This is a SLEEP clinic isn’t it?” I asked incredulously. All I received in reply was a shrug. Apparently Billy-Bob’s was eschewing state of the art (circa 1980) equipment, finding it an unreasonable accommodation. After wasting about an hour and a half monitoring a wide awake, and somewhat pissed off patient, my handler relented and let me turn the TV back on. About a half an hour later, I drifted off to the only sleep I would have that night.

In my previous visit to a sleep clinic, they were very conscious of lighting and took great pains to illuminate the room with indirect light from below so the staff could see well enough to do their tasks without waking the patient. Billy-Bob’s took another tack. The lighting in the room consisted of two 500 watt can lights focused on the bed (and in the patient's eyes) and the regulation 5,000 watt fluorescent standard lighting. There was no other lighting available in the room. I discovered this when I had to go to the bathroom about an hour after I finally went to sleep. When I tried to rise to go to the bathroom, I was somewhat disoriented by the plethora of wires attached to me. My sentinel came immediately and, you guessed it, completely blinded me with a thousand watts of can lights right in my eyes. While he busied himself with disconnecting me from the monitoring equipment, he should have been thankful that I had my Spidy Undies on. as I briefly considered wetting the bed in retaliation.

Thoroughly awake now, I went to the bathroom and returned to be reattached to the Matrix. I laid there until about four thirty or five o’clock fuming and as wide awake as I’ve ever been. The sentinel returned, apparently taking it as an affront of some kind that his resetting of my circadian clock was preventing me from sleeping. I informed him I was unable to sleep and there was no point in continuing this farce any farther. “Get me out of this rig, I’m going to go get some breakfast,” I told him. His condescending response was, “So you want to discontinue the test?” I considered his inability to absorb my common sense tips thus far and decided that explaining it to him would only upset him further and lengthen my time until breakfast, so I let it pass. I’m sure he noted somewhere that I was uncooperative, since I was unable to overcome his monumental efforts to prevent me from sleeping. So be it. At least this unbelievable incompetence was finally at an end. I went ahead and went about my day; the condition inflicted by my captors a reminder of how I used to feel when I actually had a sleep apnea problem.

So if you ever want to waste an entire night being continuously aggravated at what I assume are premium prices for absolutely incompetent service by the most clueless staff on the planet, I heartily recommend Billy-Bob’s Sleep Clinic and Tire Care Center. It won’t contribute an iota of medically useful information, but how many other chances do you get to wear your Spidy undies? Personally, I think the money would have been better spent going to Hawaii for a good spanking by a nice Polynesian girl.

Scottie

Has anyone here at Townhall actually had anything substantive posted on their comment threads by BlackTygrrrr? I don't mean the begging and pleading for space on your blogroll in exchange for him putting you one his; or him asking you to vote for him on some blog popularity contest. I am asking if he has actually interacted with you, particularly after you've put him on your blogroll. Has he ever responded to any comment directed at him on one of your threads?

He seems to be all over Townhall on people's blogrolls, but i've never seen anything more substantive than a sentence or two of inane commentary followed by a paragraph of self-promotion. If there is more to this guy's posts on your threads, by all means enlighten me. Otherwise, we might all consider why we are helping to fuel his narcissism by promoting this guy when he offers us nothing in return.

I am absolutely open to the possibility that he does actually engage with people,  but I've never seen it. Have you?

Scottie

Well folks, it’s been quite a year. On the personal front, I married the Missus and made an honest man of myself. I saw my oldest child graduate from college. One of my boys got engaged to a wonderful young lady and we got her daughter as an adorable grandchild out of the deal with another to follow soon. Our insurance business is turned around and we survived the changes and adjusted to the sacrifices. Our rental properties are all occupied with good tenants. The house is warm, the fridge is full, and we are going to host the family Christmas dinner this year here at Heartland Central.

On the blogging front, BrianR managed to stave off a rampaging wild fire in his neck of the woods. Although he probably believes it’s due to his willingness to make an armed response courtesy of the second amendment, I think he merely kept his cool while all around him panicked. His beautiful daughter got married, and he continues to be the Townhall Blogfather.

We waged an ideological war here at Townhall about where we would draw the line with respect to candidates and many a heated exchange was joined throughout the summer. Despite the passion of the participants, I noticed a reassuring level of good manners and mutual respect by those so engaged. It made me proud to be a part of the Townhall blog community.  

Some new faces appeared around here as well. We saw the rise of Loyal Democrat with his unique talent for cutting satire. We welcomed our resident Doctor with the addition of Shining City.  Crawfish dredged out a Swamp and his prolific content rivals old Gunny. Our super-patriot Nee started her blog this year and kept it real for us at the Gathering of Eagles rallies this summer. Perhaps the most unique name in blogging was first seen this year with the arrival of SquiddyPopPerkyJean. Kilroy was here starting this year and what an addition he was.

We also have a few MIA’s in the family. Husker Jeff (A Critique of Pure Unreason), Bradford (Iron Cages), Charles Mudgeon (Mudgeon is Not Amused), all seem to have slipped the bonds of this ephemeral coil. We have a few that many would not be sad to see join them. The perpetually self aggrandizing and irritating Black Tygrrrr, the always unhinged Sanity 102, the assorted Ron Paul supporters and the unbelievably unhinged Sarah Palin nutroots come readily to mind.

To those of the old guard that started here while the sawdust was still fresh on the floor I tip my hat to you all. Brian at the Island, Jimmy over at the Closet, Sandra & Sheila the pugnacious sisters from South America at A Word to the Wise & One Eighty, Flagwaver over at the Spade, Fletch, Gunny, PasPhil, and Jevica, all have a special place in my heart this holiday season. Thank you my brothers and sisters in arms.

I couldn’t make this an encyclopedic compendium of all of the events this year and still keep it readable, so I’m going to stop here knowing full well that there are some I’ve overlooked, some incidents that should have been here, and maybe a few points of disagreement. So be it! That’s what the comment threads are for and I hope you all use this one to drop by and add your own special remembrances of the year to it. Merry Christmas to one and all and a special thanks to those that drop by regularly to read my stuff and add their own to it. God Bless you all.

Scottie

My loyal readers will no doubt recall my essay a while back about how I wound up with not one but two cats, despite my preference for dogs.  Well bury me in an anthill and smear my ears with jam if it didn’t happen again! I was minding my own business, unloading tools from my truck the other night when they struck like lightning. As I made multiple trips up and down the basement stairs lugging tools and materials into my basement, two little commandos infiltrated my perimeter and slipped through the open door. Their mission: FOOD! 

Now friends, I’ve seen a few dog food commercials in my day. I know they practically starve a dog for a day or two before shooting them wolfing down the product in commercials. I’ve also been around animals all my life in one form or another, and I know that isn’t the way any normal animal eats if they’re reasonably fed. So it broke my heart to discover two kittens nose down in the cat’s feed dish down in the basement swallowing dry cat food whole as fast as they could gulp it down. I called the Missus down to have a look at them and it broke her heart, too. Together we watched them chow down until they were so full they could barely walk.

When they finally came up for air we gave the critters the mandatory once-over. Two male tiger stripped cats that were not much more than furry sacks of bones with wildly distended tummies.  Neither of them weighed more than a sachet of feathers.  Every bone in their emaciated bodies was easily discerned through their dull little hides.

I said to the Missus, “You know I hate cats don’t you?”

She smirked and replied, “So we’re keeping them then?”

And the little rascals began to purr on cue and sealed the deal.

“I guess so.” I said, and we gathered them up and took them upstairs to apply some Frontline to them and turned them loose. They introduced themselves to the two resident cats. They were disabused of any delusions of superiority by our resident matron cat, Margo. She quickly established that she wasn’t going to take any nonsense and quickly administered the cat’s equivalent of laying down the law to them.  They’re still giving her a wide berth, but things are slowly thawing. The big boy cat, Gyro regarded them with bemused disinterest and pretty much ignored them. And then the little kitties we christened Beavis and Butthead, now filled to the bursting point, sacked out under our newly installed Christmas tree.  Christmas Kitties; Too cute!

Scottie