Outsourcing their compassion, part II

Democrats claim much...deliver little.



Barack Obama is his brother's keeper...unless you are his half-brother. Then you get to live in poverty on the streets of Kenya on a dollar a month.



Now, we find his aunt living in a slum in Boston.



Obama is going to create opportunities. Reach out to those who need help...folks like his aunt, for example.





But he's going to use your money. Not his.

Do you know how much money Barack Obama made on his two memiors? Google it.

Do you know how much money Barack Obama gave to charity before his run for President? Google it.

His aunt's condition and his half-brother's condition are pitiable.

Doesn't it say something about the man's character that he's used none of his wealth to help his family, but that he's willing to use the Government's wealth (our tax dollars) to help others in similar condition? A lot of others?

Did you know John McCain's wife is very rich? Sure, you've heard about that.

Do you know she does a great deal of charity work? Bet you didn't hear that.

Did you know that John and Cindy McCain have adopted disabled children of color, brought them up as their own kids? Bet you didn't hear that from the New York Times.

Remember: the Left is compassionate in principle, as long as they can use someone else's money. Usually, yours.

Useful Tools

I admit this is a generalization, but it has been confirmed by my own experience with a Fundamentalist Feminist: “We Think the Left is Wrong; They Think We are Evil.”

That goes back to my earlier suggestion that we’re involved in a Holy War. You only get into Holy Wars with the forces of Evil.

To be sure, there are people who are nominally on the conservative side who are equally whacked out, but the majority of the venom seems to be over among the Liberals. Weird.

Anyway, the point of today’s discussion: Useful Tools.

During the Korean War, back in 1952, the North Koreans claimed they’d been subjected to American Biological Warfare. The Chinese Government, newly communist, created a commission to investigate. They needed someone with scientific credibility to chair the commission. They selected Joseph Needham.

Needham was a world famous biologist before WWII, and had become a diplomat to China during the War. He began a journey of scientific and history discovery about China’s past (“Science and Civilization in China”, now up to about Volume 21) that continues to this day.

He was, however, an ardent socialist and friendly to the stated goals of the Chinese Communist party. He accepted the commission, and after about a year of investigation, interviews, and visits to “attack” sites, published a report that essentially concluded the US had launched biological attacks against the North Koreans.

The United States government rejected the report’s conclusions as false. Needham’s reputation suffered in the West, while the emerging communist countries hailed him for his bravery.

In 1998, secret documents from the Soviet Union were published in Japan, “and academics studying those papers…noticed something quite remarkable: that the sites to which Needham and his colleagues were taken during their investigations had all been created artificially by, or with the help of, intelligence agents from the Soviet Union.”
(The Man Who Loved China, by Simon Winchester, page 212)

Needham had been duped and used by the Communists. Who would have thought?

I find myself wondering…in 50 years or so, will it come out that other well-meaning critics of our government and culture have been similarly duped? Michael Moore and Oliver Stone hanging out with Fidel Castro. Sean Penn in Iraq and Venezuela.

The communists had a term for people like Needham. “Useful Idiots.”

The nicer stuff in life

Blogging may get a little lighter, but not because there's less happening.

I've started work on volume two of The Lonesome George Chronicles. Volume One, The Big Bang, is available at Barnes and Noble.com and Amazon. So, writing and research will take up a little time.

Speaking of research, I ran across a fascinating story of a well-meaning public figure being used by our enemies to make America look very bad. I'll have more on that tomorrow.

Here at Chez Jiggy, we're soft touches for abandoned animals. We have four cats; two of them strays we picked up off the street, one we got from a shelter. The two dogs were more deliberate acquisitions.

AdventureBoy loves animals...possibly got that from his old Dadman. He's nearly 15 now, but still very sweet most of the time. One of the things he likes to do, even now, is play with the cats.

Many times I've been in the bedroom, reading with the door open, and I'll hear pounding feet. Look up, and my giggling boy/tween will be running down the hall, dragging a stuffed animal on a string behind him, with one of the cats running full tilt intent on capturing its "prey."

They're both having fun. And he'll do this for an hour or more.

It is a memory I hope I carry to my grave. Too much of my brain is stuffed with the ugliness I've see (or perpetrated myself)...I pray God is merciful at the end of my life, and allows me remember the kindness, the sweetness, the good and the generous people who surround us if only we let ourselves see.

Go look for the Light today.

More reasons the Left hate McCain/Palin

Because McCain/Palin have, you know, actually done things.

McCain served his country at great personal cost.

Palin had a full and challenging life (Alaska fisherman, anyone?) before entering politics.

They have both experienced real life.

I dare say many Liberals/Left have only read about life.

Bill Ayers: from pampered child of privilege to bomb-maker and wanna-be kid killer. Because of what he'd been told and what he'd read.

I bet if you think about it, you can name many many liberals of your own acquaintance who are just riled up about how awful things are...but they're riled up because of what they've read in books, less so about what they've actually experienced.

Life and Lies

Good weekend with AdventureBoy.

I bought him a new pair of LazerTag guns, and we spent some time blasting each other in the woods on Saturday.

He had a friend stay over Saturday night. His buddy, Max, needed help with a science project, one that involved naming birds.

Saturday night, I heard them making joking comments about the election. "They're saying about Obama, 'Kill him, Kill him.' "

I stepped in from the next room, and told them flatly that was a lie, that the shout had been about Bill Ayers (a sentiment I agree with, by the way. This bomb-builder should have been hung for his crimes). I gave them a few examples of the Left's hate speech ("Sarah Palin is a C***," "Abort Sarah Palin"), and pointed out that they'd not heard about it because the major media was covering for Obama.

They're good kids, simply reflecting what is all around them, honest or not.

We had a good time on Sunday, spent most of the day riding bikes or at the Bird Preserve, where the Jigglet was a walking reference book for Max as they recorded 24 different types of birds.

Last night, I did send the Jigglet my 35 pages of text about Obama and his integrity issues. Whether he reads it will be up to him.

So...what is the moral?

1) Ignore the polls. They are heavily slanted towards Democrats.
2) Spread the truth. Short form: ask people what Obama has actually accomplished. You may have to be a broken record, because they'll talk all about his speeches and his promise. Keep asking them to provide details of what he has actually done. Point out a life of service, on McCain's part, and battles against the machine, on Palin's part.
3) Be prepared to not change anyone's mind. Most people voting for Obama, I'm convinced, don't care about the facts.
4) VOTE. Do whatever it takes to get your vote in, and DO NOT SUCCUMB TO DESPAIR.
5) VOTE.

Lies, continued

The popular media sees Republicans as the problem, and hence, the target:


The Center for Media and Public Affairs, a media analysis group, kept a tally of jokes told about the presidential contenders on the "Late Show" and "The Tonight Show With Jay Leno" in the five weeks after McCain chose Sarah Palin to be his running mate and vaulted the little-known Alaska governor into the national spotlight.
The total: Republicans, 286. Democrats, 42.
"Generally the Republicans get targeted much more often than Democrats, but this election is driving it off the charts," said CMPA Executive Director Donald Rieck.

By relentlessly pounding home the message about the Republicans (McCain is old, Sarah Palin is stupid), they create a cultural environment that becomes a self-perpetuating loop: "Sarah Palin isn't qualified to be VP, even Saturday Night Live says so." "Did you see Saturday Night Live, they really hammered Palin." "Well, everyone knows she's dumb..."

Keep telling the truth. Look at Sarah Palin's remarkable accomplishments. Put them up beside Barack Obama's remarkable political expediency. Then ask who is a real leader.

Obama: Distilled, detailed. Devastating.

Over 35 pages on Obama's background, carefully linked, referenced, and sourced. Look for the section “October 14, 2008.”

This is detail, folks. Not just three or four lines about his ties to Ayers or Wright or Rezko, but over 22,000 words (not including the links) about the long and unsavory history of a man completely unworthy to be President.

As the author sums up,

You will often hear Obama's defenders argue that his ties to this or that extremist or corrupt figure is an isolated aberration, an example of "guilt by association"; that the various favors he dispensed with public money and private charitable foundation funds are nothing unusual in politics. But when you look at Obama's record and biography taken together, what you see is that the favors, the extremists and the machine ties are all inextricably intertwined, and that far from being isolated incidents, Obama's modus operandi of mutual back-scratching with radicals and crooks extends to nearly every aspect of his life and career - his family, his faith, his home, his jobs and education, his significant election victories and legislative "accomplishments," his closest advisors and most important mentors, the money and organization that made up his campaigns.

This is a must read, my friends. Take the time Saturday to really pore over this…and spread the word.

Fight the fantasy of "Obama the Leader of Change" with the facts about "Obama, friend to criminals and anti-Americans."

Things NBC, ABC, CBS, New York Times, LA Times, etc. Aren't Telling You:

Well, my goodness, my break from politics was short, indeed.

You've surely heard about McCain-Palin's racist supporters screaming vile invective.

For two days now, there have been stories about boisterous McCain-Palin supporters screaming inflammatory words at the very mention of Obama's name. Words like "terrorist" and "Kill him!" and "treason." And at no point has McCain or Palin called on those folks and others who would imitate them to stop.

It's the story in many major newspapers and leftist websites. Of course, a closer look by some (not part of the media types who have already decided America will get Obama as President whether she wants or needs him) shows that it's not a mob, it's one or two individuals.

Milbank’s lone racist at the rally soon became a group (or a mob) of people shouting racial epithets. A New York Times editorial Tuesday (“The Politics of Attack”) misquoted Milbank’s Post column, claiming that one person shouted “Kill him” and “others shouted epithets at an African-American member of a TV crew.”

But, strangely, you've not heard about the torrent of left-wing hate. Things like trendy “ABORT Sarah Palin” stickers.

Nor will you hear about these protestors at a Sarah Palin event:

The media has been busy reporting the "anger" of the conservatives at the McCain/Palin rallies, how supporters want McCain to get tougher on Obama and force Obama's terrorist associations into the eyes of the public and how McCain has been forced to "defend" poor little Barack Obama.....but where are the media reports about Obama supporters wearing t-shirts calling Sarah Palin a Cunt?

And the silence is deafening.

It's all part of Doubly Standard Proceduretm. Simply put, "Bad Behavior by Our Enemies the E-vile Republicans Must Be Condemned. Similar Behavior by Our Friends Is Always Excused Because We Are Not Just Right, But Righteous."

Doubly Standard Proceduretm has been used by the Left for years. Accidentally killing civilians in a war zone is bad. Killing police officers in our own country is okay, because the killers were fighting a war of liberation.

I can think of an easy dozen examples. I'm sure you can think of hundreds more.

Update, information from Glenn Reynolds, the Instapundit:

LEFTY ASSASSINATION FANTASIES: Various people, oddly, deny that such existed. Try Death of a President by Gabriel Range, or Nicholson Baker's novel, Checkpoint, just to start.
Similar Obama assassination fantasies, should they appear, won't get this kid-glove treatment from Big Media, I suspect. "It is not the first time a novelist has chosen fiction to express their point of view about American society or politics. Upton Sinclair did it. So did John Steinbeck. Nick Baker does it with more nerve and fewer pages."
UPDATE: Here's Salon, in 2003, on a play entitled I'm Going to Kill the President, "one of the most amusing plays currently running in New York . . . a madcap farce about terrorism and apathy in John Ashcroft's America whose performance may or may not be a federal offense."
ANOTHER UPDATE: "Snipers Wanted."

(I've posted below an essay AdventureBoy wrote about getting his scuba certification. Ask me later why I think he's proof God exists...)

A Scuba Adventure

Not many people have experienced the almost magical sensation of floating through an indigo sea and watching the fantastic creatures dwelling within it. My father and I are one of the few fortunate to be able to do so, to be licensed scuba divers. The first true SCUBA (Self-Contained Underwater Breathing Apparatus) was invented by legendary French oceanographer Jacques Cousteau in 1943. It was smaller, more efficient, and more easy to use than many of its predecessors, and thus revolutionized the world of underwater exploration. Prior to the SCUBA, or Aqualung, divers had had to wear bulky suits with helmets and be fed air from a hose. The Aqualung severed that connection, allowing caves and other difficult places to be explored. The sea had always been a place of mystery to me, but I never thought that a few forays into island shallows would change my perspective of that blue realm forever.One day last summer, I was in a deep and peaceful sleep when I suddenly felt myself being gently shaken. I opened my eyes and saw my dad leaning over me. For the most part, the room in which I lay was dark except for a soft, dim light coming from down the hall. I sat up, rubbed my eyes and whispered, “Hey, Dad.” A quick glance at my watch told me it was 4:00 a.m.My father smiled. “Hey, son. I’ve already eaten, so you grab something for the road, and the gear, and I’ll meet you in the car.”I nodded, and he turned and walked out of the room. Giving a great yawn, I rolled out of the bed and stretched. I yawned again, and then took hold of 2 large duffel bags and began dragging them down the hall. As I headed towards the kitchen, I reflected on the events of the previous day. In a rush, my dad and I had zoomed down from his house in the mountains to the coast. We had holed up at a relative’s house and went to bed early in anticipation of our wake-up time. Today was a day of huge importance, and we would have to be well-rested for the trials ahead of us.I shuffled into the kitchen, and after considering for a moment, I popped a bagel into the toaster and softened some butter in the microwave. While the bagel was cooking, I absentmindedly patted the relatives’ dog, wondering what lay before us this day.I was jolted out of my thoughts by the pop of the bagel as the toaster finished crisping it. Swift as lightning I grabbed the two halves of the bagel, spread some butter on them, and hurried out the door with the bagel in one hand and the two duffel bags in the other. I closed the door with my foot, tossed the bags in the back of Dad’s car, and buckled my seat belt as I slid into the front seat. The car headed off towards the pier, where our boat was waiting.In ten minutes, Dad pulled into a parking space. We pulled the stack of duffel bags out of the car and staggered towards the pier with our heavy load. We showed the guard our tickets, and climbed onboard the ship. We met up with the rest of the class and wished each other luck today.Soon after we got on, the boat pulled away from the pier and sped towards the island that was visible on the horizon. I impatiently scuffed my shoes as I watched the white-capped waves zip by.In about forty-five minutes, the ship docked at the island wharf and we bustled out, carrying most of the heavy duffle bags on a hand-truck. My dad and I walked around the other side of the cove and arrived at a stretch of rocky beach. Before we unloaded the bags, I leaped across the rocks like a mountain goat and tested the water with my foot. I shivered; it was cold. I bounded back over to help my dad with the gear.We unzipped the duffle bags, and out came a wild assortment of equipment. I sifted through the pile, found my full-body wetsuit, hood, gloves, boots, and flippers and began the laborious task of getting them on. The wetsuit was the hardest because my hands could barely fit through the openings at the ends of the sleeves. Once that was over, however, it wasn’t hard to pull the hood over my head, strap on the gloves, slip my feet into the boots, and then the boots into the flippers.I walked--somewhat stiffly from the tough fabric--over to the pile of gear, fished out a large vest, and pulled that on. I checked that my dive computer was clipped onto the vest (it was), and cast about for the final piece of equipment. It was easy to find: A round, cylindrical, bright red tank approximately 2 ½ feet in length with a valve on top, and four cords connected to two rebreathers and a pressure gauge. I called my dad over, and he helped affix the tank to my back. He connected the fourth cord to the buoyancy system built into my dive vest, and then gave me a clap on the back. In turn, I helped him get his tank on. I groaned as the weight of the full set of equipment pressed down on me. It felt like I could hardly take a step without collapsing. I sat down with the heavy tank propped against a rock and waited.Fortunately, about five minutes later the class and the teachers arrived. They quickly suited up, and in ones and twos headed down the metal stairway leading towards the water. I leaned forward to adjust the weight of the tank on my back as I carefully placed my awkward flippers in front of each other, trying not to trip on them and fall. My mask was bouncing against my forehead; I had not pulled it over my face because I had not yet entered the water. I made it down to the water’s edge unscathed. Taking a deep breath to calm my taut nerves, I pulled my mask over my eyes and nose, put the rebreather in my mouth, and let myself fall forward into the surging waves.As I hit the water, I tensed, waiting for the expected surge of cold to stab into my body, but there was none. Instead, I felt only a warm dampness against my skin. Surprised and happy that this wonderful occasion wasn’t going to be tainted by freezing ocean temperatures, I grinned behind my rebreather and headed out to the class’s rendezvous point. Once there, I floated until everyone else had gathered around the buoy that marked the location. After catching her breath, the teacher took off her rebreather and said to the class, “Well, everybody, today’s the day. All the lessons, all the times spent sitting on the bottom of a pool, have led up to this day. I have full confidence in each and every one of you, and I think that every person in this class will be leaving the island as a certified Scuba diver. Now, without any further delay, let’s go.” And the class plunged into beneath the surface of the water.The rest of the day was a whirl and a blur of several dives throughout the course of around three hours. I did not remember much about the first four dives, but the fifth and final one is forever emblazoned into my brain.Before this closing dive, my dad and I relaxed and cooled off on the rocks while our tanks were being refilled (I had a reputation for being the fastest in the class to use up my tank’s supply of air), and talked of what we had seen from the dives. After a time, we were called over as the truck carrying the refilled tanks returned. We suited up again, lurched down to the waterline, and repeated the procedure until we were once again swimming, almost flying, through a blue world. We first explored the kelp forest that was like a city wall of the island. I felt as though I had come across a great, medieval underwater land, and these were the green woods were the heroic prince did his adventuring. I expected the fronds to part, to have a shark come barreling through them, pursued by the said prince.I watched the schools of fish as we passed them, amazed at how they each seemed to be a single, shimmering mass. Some were grey, some were iridescent blue, and some were green-yellow. A few, called garibaldi, swam alone but had incredible vibrant orange skin. I affectionately called them “tangerine fish.” The bubbles from my rebreather made a beautiful, bell-like sound as they floated to the surface. I soon became entranced with the noise, and lost myself listening to it.After a while, we cleared the lush kelp forest, passing under an ancient arch formed by a coral reef that seemed to me like the gate out of that green kingdom. Before us was a large series of coral flats that reminded me of continental plains. A few large, herbivorous fish and sharks drifted lazily over the flats, but nothing else. The teacher led us outward, over the flats, towards deeper water. I passed the time by listening to the strange but beautiful music of my rebreather’s bubbles.Fifteen minutes had passed when the group of us, around ten or so people, came to a halt. I nearly ran into the person in front of me, and looked around. The teacher pointed, and I gasped, sending a larger spurt of bubbles toward the surface. The coral flats had ended into a cliff. In front of my amazed eyes was a sheer drop into an opaque sheet of blue. I could see only a fish or two close to the cliff wall, but nothing else.For some time we floated there, hovering over that vast expanse of ocean, when the teacher gestured, sending us on a return journey to the shore. I lingered at the edge of the cliff for a little while longer, fascinated by the hugeness of the open ocean, and then Dad tugged on my shoulder. I followed the class back across the coral flats and into the kelp forest.In the kelp forest, the teacher called another halt, and reached into a pocket on her vest. I was amazed when she pulled out a handful of Scuba License cards, laminated in plastic to protect them from the water. One by one she handed them out to the class, supplemented by a handshake for each student, and then the assistant teacher brought out a bag of frozen peas. The fish instantly swarmed our group, devouring the frozen peas at a fearsome rate. Another assistant had brought an underwater camera with them. Dad and I posed for a picture, holding our certifications, but right when the shutter clicked, a cod swam right in front of the camera. It made for a cool picture, but unfortunately the fish blocked out the certifications.On shore, there was much back-slapping and hearty congratulations exchanged. Dad and I shook hands with and were praised by the teacher and her assistants, and prepared to start the long journey home. As I packed the gear back into the bags, I cast a long look towards the ocean. There was so much in that blue world that man hadn’t discovered yet, and would not discover for a long time. The fascinating and mysterious qualities of the patch of open ocean I had seen proved that. I had had little to no idea what kind of creatures resided in those depths. As many scientists put it, “We’ve explored more of space than we have of the Earth’s oceans.” That day changed my view of the ocean forever. While my career path takes me not to the ocean but to skies, I eagerly scan the Internet frequently, looking for new discoveries.

Movie Break!!

Maybe it’s time for a break from reporting on the constant lies. I’ll illuminate the actions of the Obama campaign and their tools the major media later, but for now:

MOVIE REVIEWS!

“Ghost Town” - in word, charming. You’ll have to hunt for it at a megaplex, but it’s worth the effort. A ghost story that’s a romantic comedy. You’ll laugh and you’ll cry. Worth full price, which is my highest praise.

“Appaloosa” – well intentioned, great pedigree Western. But…wait for the DVD. It’s slow, and feels strangely incomplete. Strives, unsuccessfully, to add modern psychological twists to the classic Western.

“Fireproof” – the little Christian movie that could. Made for a mere $500,000, it’s a better movie-experience than the much more expensive and slick Appaloosa. It has been dismissed by the usual critics, but for this regular guy, it was very moving and sweet. Strong pro-marriage message, and very upfront about its Christian values. Also well worth full-price…and how many films can you say that about these days?

Forgiveness

Democrats can forgive anything…if the reasons are good.

They can forgive voter fraud. It’s only bad if the e-vile Republicans are doing it.

They can forgive perjury and predatory sexual behavior, as long as it’s their guy.

They can forgive racism as long as it’s committed by persons of color, since only persons of non-color can be racist.

They can forgive anything except not being a liberal Democrat.

Buried under the Lies

Boy, as the election gets closer, the lies are piling up. Certainly the lies about Sarah Palin.

Remember, too, there are three ways to lie:

1) Outright deception, falsehood. Bill Clinton: “I didn’t have sexual relations with that woman, with Miss Lewinski.”

2) Tell only part of the truth. Barack Obama: “Bill Ayers was just a guy in my neighborhood.”

And, the last, which is apparently the toughest to do well:

3) Tell the truth, but tell it so badly that no one believes you.

What’s really scary, however, is that a lot of people I hear participating in LieStyle #1 about Ms. Palin don’t care about the facts.

Yesterday, some co-workers were commenting about the Governor, and they were repeating schtick from Saturday night live. When I sent them the post from Baseball Crank, filled with untidy facts and detailed references, they continued to scoff. They didn’t care about the truth. They’d made up their minds that Sarah Palin was a joke, and that was the end of it.

I was thinking…when is it all right to lie and misrepresent? The only situation I could think of is in war. There’s a certain amount of required deception when waging a war, a lot of LieStyle #1 and LieStyle #2. We can’t tell our citizens everything we’re doing, lest the enemy learn our strategy. But the presumption is that overall, it’s for the greater good.

So, what the Left is doing makes perfect sense. They are lying, because we’re in a war.

It’s a Holy War.

Think about it. The Left and their disciples (especially the major newspapers and networks) have declared war on the rest of us, on the heretics who don’t share their beliefs, and on the apostates who have fallen from the true faith.

I bet you didn’t know we were in a war.

Now you do. And it’s time to fight back

outsourcing their compassion

As I previously noted, the Bailout/Rescue is another fine example of how Liberals/Democrats outsource their compassion. Poor people should have houses, and the banks (those darn rich people, i.e., shareholders and investors) should pay for it.

And when that grand scheme fails...guess who gets to pay for it. Yep, you and me. I don't know about you, but even when things were really grim in the Kingdom of Jiggy, the mortgage payment got made.

Of course, Chez Jiggy is a house we can afford. Our application was on the level, and, I have been blessed by the Lord to continue to advance at my job.

But, stop and think a moment: what 0ther fine, charitable, decent sounding projects have the Dems/Libs/Screaming Lefties foisted off on America that have ultimately been charged to you and me...whether we wanted it or not.

How about...No Nukes! France uses them to get the majority of their electrical power, but not us (U.S.). Cuz, you know, Joan Baez and Jackson Brown said they were bad.

Experienced any brownouts lately?

How about...Don't Drill in Anwar? Don't drill Offshore. Save the Environment! But, we're paying too much to our "friends" the Saudis. Inflate your tires! Drive less, you have too big a carbon footprint, anyway.

Yes, our friends the Democrats, are glad to look out for almost anyone except those of us who actually pay the bills.

I'm sure you can think of others.

Lies and more lies

If Barack Obama wins this election, who will write the history of his victory. Will it be come, you know, like the Orwell vision of the proles shredding inconvenient documents to rewrite the books to reflect the newest "reality?"

Will they give full credit to the unprincipled cretins of the press, who do things like this:



Today John McCain finally began to tell the country about his own efforts to regulate Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac, and the Democrats’ incredible inaction. Yes, as many of us had urged, McCain finally talked about the economy, and the conservative blogs went nuts. Republican bloggers know that McCain has to talk about this, because the economy is the top issue concerning Americans, and McCain has a good story to tell — even if it’s one that the media has been ignoring.
Speaking of which:
How did the L.A. Times cover McCain’s stunning speech taking on this core economic concern?
By pretending McCain never said it, and by quoting Barack Obama talking about how McCain is scared to talk about the economy.

Experience and Judgement

Building on yesterday's post about experience, here's an interesting one about judgement.

http://www.city-journal.org/2008/eon0430jm.html

It's about the night some current friends of Obama tried to kill a nine-year old boy.


In February 1970, my father, a New York State Supreme Court justice, was presiding over the trial of the so-called “Panther 21,” members of the Black Panther Party indicted in a plot to bomb New York landmarks and department stores. Early on the morning of February 21, as my family slept, three gasoline-filled firebombs exploded at our home on the northern tip of Manhattan, two at the front door and the third tucked neatly under the gas tank of the family car. (Today, of course, we’d call that a car bomb.) A neighbor heard the first two blasts and, with the remains of a snowman I had built a few days earlier, managed to douse the flames beneath the car. That was an act whose courage I fully appreciated only as an adult, an act that doubtless saved multiple lives that night.



This was back in the 70's, so I guess it doesn't matter now. Even though the main perp, Bill Ayers, said this about his activities then:

But listen to Ayers interviewed in the New York Times on September 11, 2001, of all days: “I don’t regret setting bombs. I feel we didn’t do enough.” Translation: “We meant to kill that judge and his family, not just damage the porch.” When asked by the Times if he would do it all again, Ayers responded: “I don’t want to discount the possibility.”


Barack Obama has consistently downplayed the influence such people have had on his life. As the writer (the nine-year old boy who managed not be be killed by Ayers and his fellow terrorists) points out, what does it say about Obama's judgement, and his world view, that he sought out such people as friends, supporters, and mentors?

That may be Change He Can Believe In, but is it Change That We Need?

Well, they did ask...

A friend asked me why Sarah Palin was qualified to be Vice-President.



This long, detailed post tells you almost everything you might want to know. Follow the links embedded, lots of details and specifics about Ms. Palin's life and her actions as govenor.



It's only the first part of series, by the way, that will go on to compare McCain/Palin's integrity vs. Obama/Biden.



Finally, when my friend asked, Why is Sarah Palin qualified to be Vice-President, I had to bite my tongue to keep from responding, "Why is Barack Obama qualified to be President?"

Ways of Looking

There are two ways to look at a problem.

One is to say, "Who's fault is it?" That seems to be more about blame.

Another way is to ask, "What happened." That is more about fixing an issue and assigning responsibility.

So, if we want to know what happened to create the current financial crisis, we have to resist the urge to shriek, in our best Democrat fashion, "It's George Bush's fault!"

We have to ask, instead, like adults, "What happened."

Read here for a view of what happened. Simply put...compassion started it (as Liberals often do), and immoral capitalism took it and ran it into the ground.

There's plenty of responsibility to go around.

Focus

Received an email from an old acquaintance. She'd sent me a long screed about McCain/Palin as the Marlboro Man ticket.

I took the time to send her some of Stanley Kurtz' writing about Obama, Ayers, etc., which I quoted in an earlier post.

Her response: "I'd like to see this guy say something about why Palin is qualified to be Vice President."

Very interesting. Ms. Palin, with more actual governing experience than Barack Obama, is the issue. If she's not qualified to be Vice President, in what way is Mr. Obama qualified to be President?

That question can't be answered by the Barackobots. Because the answer is "None."

My friend and I have agreed to politely disagree.

VP Debate Moderator Wrote Pro-Obama book

They have got to be kidding.

The “Moderator” of the sole Vice-Presidential debate this Thursday has written a Pro-Obama book that is scheduled for release next January.

There are so many questions that need to the asked, one doesn’t know where to start.

How about the Moderator? It would seem if she had a shred of principle, she would decline to participate.

How about the rabid left? Would they be happy if the author of “Obama-Nation” were to run the next Presidential debate? Think they would see that as fair to their candidate?