to read this.
More insight on Oboob's cabinet appointees.
Just do it- you'll be glad you did.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Saturday, November 22, 2008
The Nuge...
has some interesting insight.
"Obama- King of Fools"
(& it doesn't say much for the rest of our countrymen either...)
Check it out here.
"Obama- King of Fools"
(& it doesn't say much for the rest of our countrymen either...)
Check it out here.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Apparently…
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
The Eleventh Hour of the Eleventh Day of the Eleventh Month: Armistice Day
THE CAUSE (1918)
By Paul Scott Mowrer
Poet laureate of New Hampshire
Let but the cause seem beautiful, dear God,
If we must die. Make us believe, in truth,
For all mankind we thus forswear our youth,
To stay till end of time the oppressor's rod;
That but for us, harsh power would ride rough-shod
Through freedom's delicate gardens, and the tooth
Of hatred rend our people without ruth;
So might we sleep contented, under the sod.
For else, who knows what gladness here on earth
Was destined us, what nobly high employ?
Oh, hard it is that youth should cease to be!
For now came love, with a great glad rebirth
To company our way, and now came joy!
Not death we fear, but death's futility.
Thank you to all veterans, past & present, who have sacrificed their time and lives to maintain our freedom.
God Bless America & Those that Keep Her.
Go see how it was for the Brits
Thanks again, vets.
By Paul Scott Mowrer
Poet laureate of New Hampshire
Let but the cause seem beautiful, dear God,
If we must die. Make us believe, in truth,
For all mankind we thus forswear our youth,
To stay till end of time the oppressor's rod;
That but for us, harsh power would ride rough-shod
Through freedom's delicate gardens, and the tooth
Of hatred rend our people without ruth;
So might we sleep contented, under the sod.
For else, who knows what gladness here on earth
Was destined us, what nobly high employ?
Oh, hard it is that youth should cease to be!
For now came love, with a great glad rebirth
To company our way, and now came joy!
Not death we fear, but death's futility.
Thank you to all veterans, past & present, who have sacrificed their time and lives to maintain our freedom.
God Bless America & Those that Keep Her.
Go see how it was for the Brits
Thanks again, vets.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Mmmkay...
Obama to use executive orders for immediate impact
Obama raises a long-neglected concept: sacrifice
And how will this work out for U.S. businesses?
Anyone?
Bueller? Rearden? Taggart?
U.S. firms should expect more scrutiny under Obama
Obama raises a long-neglected concept: sacrifice
And how will this work out for U.S. businesses?
Anyone?
Bueller? Rearden? Taggart?
Saturday, November 8, 2008
And So It Goes...
TURNING and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
W.B. Yeats- 1919
The Audacity of Impudence?
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Saturday, November 1, 2008
For the Non-Believers...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)