Thursday, August 05, 2010
When injustice becomes law, resistance becomes duty.
Wall Street Journal Sizes up Obama - They've Got Him Figured Out
A short article from the Wall Street Journal that needs to be read by
every level headed American!!!
A "deadly" article regarding Obama, at the Wall Street Journal, which
today is the most widely circulated newspaper in America ..
Article from the Wall Street Journal - by Eddie Sessions:
"I have this theory about Barack Obama. I think he's led a kind of
make-believe life in which money was provided and doors were opened because at some point early on somebody or some group took a look at this tall, good
looking, half-white, half-black, young man with an exotic African/Muslim name
and concluded he could be guided toward a life in politics where his facile
speaking skills could even put him in the White House.
In a very real way, he has been a young man in a very big hurry. Who else
do you know has written two memoirs before the age of 45? "Dreams of My
Father" was published in 1995 when he was only 34 years old. The "Audacity of
Hope" followed in 2006. If, indeed, he did write them himself. There are
some who think that his mentor and friend, Bill Ayers, a man who calls
himself a "communist with a small 'c'" was the real author.
His political skills consisted of rarely voting on anything that might be
deemed controversial. He went from a legislator in the Illinois legislature
to the Senator from that state because he had the good fortune of having
Mayor Daley's formidable political machine at his disposal.
He was in the U.S. Senate so briefly that his bid for the presidency was
either an act of astonishing self-confidence or part of some greater game
plan that had been determined before he first stepped foot in the Capital.
How, many must wonder, was he selected to be a 2004 keynote speaker at the
Democrat convention that nominated John Kerry when virtually no one had ever
even heard of him before?
He outmaneuvered Hillary Clinton in primaries. He took Iowa by storm. A
charming young man, an anomaly in the state with a very small black
population, he oozed "cool" in a place where agriculture was the
antithesis of cool.
He dazzled the locals. And he had an army of volunteers drawn to a
charisma that hid any real substance.
And then he had the great good fortune of having the Republicans select
one of the most inept candidates for the presidency since Bob Dole. And then
John McCain did something crazy. He picked Sarah Palin, an unknown female
governor from the very distant state of Alaska . It was a ticket that was
reminiscent of 1984's Walter Mondale and Geraldine Ferraro and they went down to defeat.
The mainstream political media fell in love with him. It was a schoolgirl
crush with febrile commentators like Chris Mathews swooning then and now
over the man. The venom directed against McCain and, in particular, Palin,
Now, nearly a full 2 years into his first term, all of those gilded years
leading up to the White House have left him unprepared to be President.
Left to his own instincts, he has a talent for saying the wrong thing at the
wrong time. It swiftly became a joke that he could not deliver even the
briefest of statements without the ever-present Tele-Prompters.
Far worse, however, is his capacity to want to "wish away" some terrible
realities, not the least of which is the Islamist intention to destroy
America and enslave the West. Any student of history knows how swiftly Islam
initially spread. It knocked on the doors of Europe , having gained a foothold
in Spain .
The great crowds that greeted him at home or on his campaign "world tour"
were no substitute for having even the slightest grasp of history and the
reality of a world filled with really bad people with really bad intentions.
Oddly and perhaps even inevitably, his political experience, a cakewalk,
has positioned him to destroy the Democrat Party's hold on power in Congress
because in the end it was never about the Party. It was always about his
communist ideology, learned at an early age from family, mentors, college
professors, and extreme leftist friends and colleagues.
Obama is a man who could deliver a snap judgment about a Boston police
officer who arrested an "obstreperous" Harvard professor-friend, but would
warn Americans against "jumping to conclusions" about a mass murderer at Fort
Hood who shouted "Allahu Akbar." The absurdity of that was lost on no one.
He has since compounded this by calling the Christmas bomber "an isolated
extremist" only to have to admit a day or two later that he was part of an
al Qaeda plot.
He is a man who could strive to close down our detention facility at
Guantanamo even though those released were known to have returned to the
battlefield against America . He could even instruct his Attorney General to
afford the perpetrator of 9/11 a civil trial when no one else would ever even
consider such an obscenity. And he is a man who could wait three days before
having anything to say about the perpetrator of yet another terrorist
attack on Americans and then have to elaborate on his remarks the following day because his first statement was so lame.
The pattern repeats itself. He either blames any problem on the Bush
administration or he naively seeks to wish away the truth.
Knock, knock. Anyone home? Anyone there? Barack Obama exists only as the
sock puppet of his handlers, of the people who have maneuvered and
manufactured this pathetic individual's life.
When anyone else would quickly and easily produce a birth certificate,
this man has spent over a million dollars to deny access to his. Most other
documents, the paper trail we all leave in our wake, have been sequestered
from review. He has lived a make-believe life whose true facts remain hidden.
We laugh at the ventriloquist's dummy, but what do you do when the dummy
is President of the United States of America ?"
Tuesday, August 03, 2010
Well, here I am, on Day 3 of the Port Angeles and Surrounding Areas Team challenge. I seriously doubt I will live till day 4, to say nothing of Day 10!!
Spinning 8 means I had to do 80 minutes of cardio today. Yesterday I did 70, and nearly died then. The very fact that I am writing this means I lived long enough to reach today.
I have this thing about challenges. I can't do much without one, and when I get one, I go hog wild.
Today I timidly approached the spin wheel, hoping for a 1 or 2. Those would be manageable.
BUT 80????????? Ye Gads!!
I tell DH that I will probably divide it up throughout the day. But then I get started in with a cardio video by my nemisis, Nicole.
Some of you may know about my encounters with Nicole in the past, and I think you know what I think of her and her "easy workouts", her "ten minute workouts" and especially her "boot camp" video.
The woman is out to get me. I just know it. Today was further proof.
I do the kick boxing video, or at least KIND OF do the kick boxing video. I do okay at the beginning, keeping up with her just fine.
This was the marching in place part. Then she speeds it up, and I am doing fairly well with that too.
I can even do the side kicks, keeping up. that's because I was hanging on to the desk while doing them.
The front kicks are a little bit more of a challenge for me, so I begin goose stepping all over the house, kicking out at each step. Of course, I am not getting my legs up nearly high enough, but I am beginning to glisten, so I don't stop.
I manage to get through that video and stupidly click on her jump rope one.
Right. Me. Jumping rope. I don't have a rope (probably a good thing for Nicole), but it is okay. I can pretend to have one in my hands.
Ok. She starts me out with little jumps. I forgot to put my sports bra on, and soon realize I can't twirl the rope and jump, because I have to hold my bouncing balls. But at least I jump.
Nicole puts on this smiley face which I have learned to distrust with good reason, and she says to jump higher.
Listen, Funny Girl. This jumping thing is getting out of hand. I mean, at least I am getting both feet off the ground at the same time, which is a major accomplishment.
Lift my knees higher?? Right. I jump about 2 inches higher, hanging on to my hooters, for about 90 seconds.
Rivulets of glisten are running down my face and in my eyes. I don't wipe them away for fear of losing my grip on my boobs, so I get stinging eyes, which cause tears.
I am in great shape here, I want you to know. I am jumping around like an idiot with my eyes tearing up due to the glisten pouring in them, hanging on to you-know-whats, and she says "Remember to BREATE!".
She actually expects me to be able to do this all at ONCE? Doesn't she know that my ship is sinking??!!
God shows great mercy, and the jumping stops. We are back to a marching step now. I can reach the towel and wipe off my face while still marching. Two things at once.........not bad, eh?
Okay enough of that nonsense. Time for some low impact aerobics. To Rock and Roll music.
Somehow, the music betrays me, because I am doing aerobics to the beat of "At the Hop". This is not low impact! thankfully, the song finally ends, and my glisten is back running down my entire body now.
I get that finished, and still have time left to reach the challenge.
This will NEVER end!
DH saves me by having to go to town and he needs me to go with him. Ok. I use the opportunity to be sure to clip on my timer and pedometer, and off I go with him.
Just curious, I peek at the pedometer as we pull back into the driveway.
Proof there IS a God! I did 1.5 miles in 41 minutes.........exactly what I needed to complete the 80 cardio minutes today.
I'm saved. Until tomorrow. That damned spin better be under 3!!!
Tuesday, August 03, 2010
How could one man be so smart about the future this many years ago?
John F. Kennedy held a dinner in the white House for a group of the
Brightest minds in the nation at that time. He made this statement:
"This is perhaps the assembly of the most intelligence ever to
Gather at one time in the White House with the exception of
When Thomas Jefferson dined alone."
Especially read the last quote from 1802.
When we get piled
Upon one another in large cities, as in Europe,
We shall become as corrupt as Europe .
The democracy will cease to exist
When you take away from those
Who are willing to work and give to those who would not.
It is incumbent on every
Generation to pay its own debts as it goes.
A principle which if acted on would save
One-half the wars of the world.
I predict future happiness for
Americans if they can prevent the government
From wasting the labors of the people under the
Pretense of taking care of them.
My reading of history convinces me
That most bad government results from too much
No free man shall ever be debarred
The use of arms.
The strongest reason for the
People to retain the right to keep and bear arms
Is, as a last resort, to protect themselves
Against tyranny in government.
The tree of liberty must be
Refreshed from time to time with the blood of
Patriots and tyrants.
To compel a man to subsidize with
His taxes the propagation of ideas which he
Disbelieves and abhors is sinful and tyrannical.
Thomas Jefferson said in 1802:
'I believe that
Banking institutions are more dangerous to
Our liberties than standing armies.
If the American people ever allow
Private banks to control the issue of their
Currency, first by inflation, then by
Deflation, the banks and corporations that will
Grow up around the banks will deprive the people
Of all property - until their children
Wake-up homeless on the continent their fathers
I WISH WE COULD GET THIS OUT TO EVERYONE!!!
Monday, August 02, 2010
My team leader Darcey, from the Port Angeles and Surrounding Areas, put up a challenge for the first ten days of August.
I don't do well unless I have challenges, and between my injuries and laziness, I gained back some of the tonnage I tossed away when I was doing the Spark thing the right way.
This challenge is that we multiply the points we spin daily by 10, and do that many cardio minutes. If we spin a double digit number, then we do that many minutes. We do the cardio on our strength training days, too.
Sounds easy, huh!
So, loving challenges, I picked up the gauntlet and jumped right into it yesterday and again today.
Yesterday was a good workout. Only cardio.
Today I spun 7, so had to do 70 minutes cardio PLUS strength training.
Ok. I begrudgingly began, feeling like those 70 minutes were simply too much to ask of a chubby my age.
I turned on some good old rock and roll music, and danced and twisted for 23 minutes. I also got some jogging in during that time, plus did some jogging while I was doing the boxing strength training. Those 23 minutes sure took a long time!
This is tougher than I thought. I still had a whole mountain of minutes to go.
Then I moved over to the rowing machine, and did 23 minutes there. Row, row row you boat gets old after the first 5 minutes, too, but I perservered.
By this time I am not real fond of Darcey's idea.
On to the stationery bike for 24 hideous, torcherous minutes. My music shut off about half way through, and I was damned if I got off that bike to put more on. I knew I would ignore getting on the bike to finish my minutes, so I stay put on the bike, pedaling away.
I am seriously thinking about going over to Darcey's and let her know in no uncertain terms just what I think of this challenge, when something drops on my shoulder.
Now, we all know that women do not SWEAT. We GLISTEN. There on my shoulder was a drop of GLISTEN.
It's been too long since I glistened that much to form actual drops!
I am propelled into pedaling faster, and shortly, drip........another drop of glisten! My face is not glistening, and I can feel rivulets running down my cheeks, around my jaw line, where they form droplets of glisten to fall on my..........you know.
I pedal faster yet. I clutch the handle bars to get my heart rate reading. I am watching the miles pile up on the read out. I have forgotten about Darcey for the moment.
Then everything gets really whacky. Here I am, pedaling my heart out, glistening all over the place, and the heart monitor reads a heart rate of 58!
58???????? I continue to clutch it, thinking it would go up. It did. To 60 beats per minute.
You mean I am pedaling my butt off and glistening enough to slide off the damned machine and it only registers me at 60 BPM??!!
I must be dead. My heart rate is more than that while I am sleeping!
Now I am no longer thinking of doing Darcey in. I am thinking of how many more minutes I have to keep pedaling this stupid machine, and subtracting every second from the time I have left.
I count 100 "pedals". Took me almost 3 minutes.
FASTER! I count another 100 pedals, and cut my time, but not by much.
REALLY getting in to it, I lean forward on the machine, a death grip on the handles, and pedal like mad. 100 pedals, a bit faster.
And wetter. My glistening is out of control. I am soaked. I have 32 seconds left to go, and haven't even thought of doing a cool down.
However, when my time is up, I get off the bike, and then turn to my strength training. I do close arm wall push ups, kneeling ball roll out, leg lifting, a few yoga moves.
My skin is glistening so much it looks like I am made of shiny skin. Shiny Rosy skin. My blood is certainly flowing!
Then I do my stretching. I am finished for the day.
Do you HEAR that, Darcey? FINISHED. For the rest of the day.
Maybe tomorrow I will spin a 1. This getting in shape thing is either going to kill me or cure me.
Two days down, 8 to go!
Friday, July 30, 2010
Okay. Now I can show you those damned chair pads I made for Bossy Daughter's dining room.
Most of you know the story of not enough fabric, wrong cutting instructions, and the huge fabric search. You also know the story about trying to figure out how to have completely opposite patterns on each side, how to quilt them, and how to get the ties on correctly for each side.
Well, say no more. Here are the finished products:
This is "Side One", done in a Pineapple pattern.
This is "Side Two", using the Bear Paw pattern.
The Tie-backs sure came out nicely, didn't they?
And now, for the best photo of all.................
IN BOSSY DAUGHTER'S DINING ROOM, WAY AWAY FROM ME IN MASSACHUSETTS!
I really worked on these, trying to figure out the best way of making them. I began to really hate them toward the end, but you quilters out there know what I am saying.
I am actually playing with the idea of making some new pads for my own dining room now................JUST THINKING ABOUT IT!!! Dont' expect to see any soon, though!
Oh, yeah. The pads fit HER chairs much better than mine, which is a very good thing, as Martha would say!
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