Local time where you're at. ("Where you're at"?)

(Okay, Denizens, I can’t vouch for the veracity of this – but I got this from here and here.&#160 Even if it’s not&#160 true…it’s still pretty damned funny.)

The Islamic calendar starts at the time of Mohammed went to Mecca so it is year 1434 AH (Year of the Hajji) and nothing happened before.

Apparently, that year happens to have been the Chinese year of the Pig.

Vicars are not line officers, and hence do not have authority to give orders, so I very, very strongly request that all read this.

Now ask yourself why we re-elected our president.

(Hat tip Twitchy.)

Annnnnnnd just when you think that our society’s hit absolute rock bottom…bammo, they whip out a jackhammer.

Denizens…meet “Senhor Testiculo”.

A Brazilian cancer awareness group put themselves in a hairy situation in an effort to teach people about testicular cancer.

Brazil’s Association of Personal Assistance for Cancer has introduced to the world the Mr. Balls mascot, better known in Portuguese as “Senhor Testiculo.”

The mascot has already made friends with both adults and kids despite not being the most visually appealing character, the New York Daily News reported.

Shaped like a scrotum, and with um, quite the bit of hair, the “friendly” Mr. Balls has become somewhat of a star in certain sections of Brazil.

“Both children and adults loved taking pictures with the mascot, a friendly snowman in the shape of [a] testicle,” the non-profit organization’s website said.

While he’s a rather odd figure, the group says “Mr. Ball’s has done his job by helping to propel testicular cancer research into the media spotlight.”

God’s judgement on this planet cannot come soon enough…&#160

Or is it a political system hostile to our Constitution? This Dutch Politician makes a good case that Islam is more of a hostile political force, than a religion.

If Islam is primarily a religion, then they have a Constitutionally protected right to exercise their religious beliefs in the USA. If Islam is a political system which has as its goal to replace the existing system with Sharia law, then the US government has the responsibility to limit the activities of this group.

At this time, I tend to see Islam as a political force which has as its goal the destruction of our government and society.

As previously mentioned here, the Generalette and myself will commence our annual summer leave/respite/sabbatical/vacation starting at exactly 1700 hours. I leave the Southern Command HQ in the capable hands of Number One.

NUMBER ONE: Thank you sir!

SG RAYEGUN: You know the procedure Number One, just follow it to the letter and I’m confident I will have an office to come back to that will be in one piece. Keep SCG-1 on alert status and I want HALO ONE fueled and fully armed at all times. Understood?

NUMBER ONE: Yessir!!

SG RAYEGUN: Also, make sure the surveillance team watches out for the Excelsior II Vengeance. That damn ship seems to drop out of hyperspace at all the inconvenient times, especially when the Klingon is driving!

NUMBER ONE: Understood sir.

SG RAYEGUN: Dismissed&#153

And with that I shall do this:

{LURK MODE ENGAGED}

Frank Lautenberg died a couple days ago. He was 89.

Now, my dear, sainted mother always told me that if I couldn’t say anything nice about a lying, cheating, illegally-elected, pro-abort, anti-Second Amendment bastard tyrant wannabe with severe delusions of adequacy…then I shouldn’t say anything.

So I’ll just say that Frank Lautenberg died a couple days ago, and leave it at that.

The Linux Experiment&#153 is just about over.&#160

Apparently, there are never enough client slots available for the maybe&#160 four-to-five apps I want to run at any one time.

Windows, as much as I hate it, never did this.

Stand by…

UPDATE:&#160 Just as a point of clarification, I’ve got a quad AMD A8-5600K 3-point-something CPU with 16 gigs of RAM – and, even though I devote 50% to a Windows virtual machine, I should have enough to run Firefox, plus open an explorer window, command prompt, and the text editor on which I’m writing this, with at least a little bit left over.

And Linux is telling me I don’t have the capacity?!?!?!

Fuck that.

Those who get at least a portion of their news from one of the network news shows have become accustomed to seeing the obligatory former military “analyst”  give his thoughts. While I really do not wish to denigrate these guys, most of them appear to be men who did a decent job while serving, but really did not distinguish themselves.

The same cannot be said for General Patrick Brady, in Vietnam, he had among the most dangerous of jobs an Army helicopter pilot could have. As a Dustoff pilot. General Brady flew unarmed helicopters into the thick of battle.His job was to evacuate the wounded, and for his service General Brady was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor.

People may not agree with what he says, or with his politics, but General Brady has earned the right to be taken seriously. This piece is well worth the read.

Just to be absolutely clear, this is not the Lutheran body of which I am a member!

This is What happens when any church rejects the teaching that God’s revealed word is inerrant.

Okay, so while prepping to go out Saturday, Mrs. Venomous & I are catching Police Academy&#160 on Comedy Central.

And they’re at the scene where Chief is doing the burglar coming out of the house exercise, and it’s Tackleberry’s turn.

And, as Cthulhu is my witness, this is what I hear coming out of the tube:

“DROP THE STEREO YOU G*****N ASS(silence)…”

Now, this I don’t get.

They let “GD” pass, but bleeped the “hole” part of “asshole”?

(sigh)

Denizens, we’re once again praying for the Outer Northern Rim&#153, as Oklahoma City is going through another series of tornadoes.&#160 (Moore is near there, too, so extra prayers will be needed.)

That is an order.&#160 Thatisall&#153.

This is beyond appalling!

(sigh)

The annual Memorial Day post is below the fold, as opposed to posting the link to the article in the Backyard&#153.

Also check out Denizen & fellow blogger Alan K. Henderson’s Memorial Day post here.

If you’re a veteran – either of a war long past or of one more recently waged – know that I and about 300,000,000 Americans are eternally in your debt.&#160 Mere words cannot express the degree of gratitude which we possess for what you have done – and are now doing – for us here at home.&#160 Therefore, two words alone will have to suffice:

Thank you.

What Is Memorial Day?
by LT Bobby Ross bobbyros@nashville.net

Reproduced with permission of the author

My years whirl past me. Swirling. Dry, broken grass hovering in a spring breeze. Can I remember my experiences in war? Hardly. Fighting for my country, my youth invested, seems such a long time ago, and so unimportant. The calendar this year marks Memorial Day on the 29th of May, 2000. Have I lost something? The traditional Memorial Day, also known as Decoration Day, is on the 30th of May. This observed Memorial Day on May 29th coincidentally allows for a national three day holiday. Such is commercialism’s capitalistic American display. But why do I feel so stricken, like I have abandoned old friends from long ago? Their ghosts consort with my floating years, and their spirits coast around my presence.

Another three day holiday! Memorial Day! Maybe me and the kids can go camping? Or, to the beach? Memorial Day is fun! This is the inconsiderate, thoughtless approach to this meaningful, and consecrated moment representing one three hundred and sixty-fifth of our year. What is the meaning of Memorial Day? Is it merely a three day escape from our worldly duties? Or, is it the official beginning of summer? Is selling more hot dogs at the ballpark the overriding clarification?

Many souls, sacrificed in war, in duty to America, are wandering. They drift in a heavenly place, minus their future here upon earth. Tomorrows were forfeited. Given up so our nation would invigorate free souls, aspire them to freedom, and justly allow their lives lived as they prefer. Raising offspring above restrictions, as they desire. Those lost lives giving we, the living, what we want freely. Those are the souls we respect on Memorial Day. This means it is a sacred day.

Without retrospect, sacrifice is mute. Old Glory does not wave by accident. It flutters in the spring air revealing honor. The color red represents the blood bloom from those who fell, those who clawed, those who cried in horrible pain. Those who died fast. And, those who died ever so slowly. They did their duty. When I see Old Glory waving on a sunny, end of May day, the pigment red gushes from millions of souls, floating, not with us, anymore. They are amongst our heroes, cajoling with angels with their champions, conquerors and commanders. Friends and loved ones gather, over the grave, witness to those who gave more than anyone should be required to relinquish. They did not want to yield. They were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and when the moment harshly struck them their fatal blow, they cried for their mother, or their friend. Then there were those, many of those, who knew exactly what they were giving. They moved forward knowingly. They lost their lives so their mission would be accomplished.

Fools! Some intellects can say that. One would have to be an imbecile to give up life, no matter what the cause. For a flag? Futile! For a country! More pointless! For freedom! What freedom is there in mortality? Yes, fools they may have been, but their numbers add up in an awesome display of American loss! Veterans’ Cemeteries, white badges sailing row after row after row upon green grass, almost never ending, creeping onto the horizon. Constant reminders of the devastation of our human treasure. Mothers’ tears, enough to fill an ocean to overflow. Sweethearts, broken hearted, reading telegrams. Sons and daughters, many unborn, wakening at birth to a devastated family suffering from a victim of war there no more. And what does all this macabre math equal? Memorial Day is the correct answer.

Few Americans know a person who died in war. Their family trees have lost some leaves, falling as they fought in one of America’s wars, or discarded in the peacetime military. We are a busy people. We have business to capture. Our kids are in school. We have chores. Mundane, or surrealistic. We are a spirited society, seeking applications to improve ourselves and our communities. We are a helpful populace, always there when the going gets tough to help those who have suffered the tragedies of nature, whether a hurricane or a famine. Americans are always the first on the scene worldwide bearing their gifts of human spirit and abundance. This is why it is so puzzling that the meaning of Memorial Day seems to lack substance to many of our own people. Even with the day itself. Put back to accommodate a holiday schedule fixed by some organism no one knows, yet powerful enough to do so, the day itself lacks consequence to too many. Many who never knew a person who died in service to America are wrought with the invisible pain of not feeling for those who do.

Americans take things for granted. We have so much. So very much. Endless choices. These options are not available worldwide. Our shelves are full. Unlike many in other nations of the world. So many are empty or offer very limited selections. Those American fighting men and women killed in battle whose souls are floating actually made available these wondrous choices we have every day of our American lives. Yet, most of our youngsters have no idea whatsoever what this means. They don’t learn this in school. We must teach them. For without knowledge, they may end up thinking, or believing, all these marvelous selections came without circumstance. Minus anything. Equaling no meaning.

Our nation needs to halt and perceive the flags and flowers on our Veterans graves on this consecrated holiday. We need to lift a common voice of adoration to those floating spirits of our onetime American Warriors, and extol them with a salutation. We have not come that far with our technological miracles of this millennium to become crass. We still need respect. Our backs can not turn from formality. Our eyes can not look away from custom. Our voices must not resonate in silence against honor and glory. To do so will leave us hollow, only to fill us with that which is desolate and lacking potential. This is not the true meaning of Memorial Day.

The heartfelt significance requires reminding. Story telling. Wisdom being passed on from our Veterans to our younger generations. An interpretation certified by those who remember the horrors of war. Without this core, our society can not remain genuine. It becomes contemptible. It rots from within. These floating souls of our lost American Warriors are a powerful force, for they live within our hearts. They constantly seek justification for their contributions, and they are real within us. Such is what our American substance stands for, where character is developed, individually is guaranteed, and a community, a nation, survives.

America enters the 21th Century as the most powerful entity humankind has ever experienced. America permeates this next century with vast responsibilities. Our children must bear this promise. We can not turn our backs on these bygone descendants, nor can we do so upon ourselves. Memorial Day offers us the opportunity to express a moment of solitude where each of us can personify in our own way what we feel. I only speak for my myself, as one who has bared his soul to the dread of war. So my father did, and his father’s father before him, and their souls float amongst the multitudes. My mother and her mother held their Veterans after they returned from war, tears streaming down their cheeks in gratitude for their safe return. And there were those in my ancestry who did not return from war. And their mothers’ tears soaked the pillows on beds for generations to sleep upon. Their souls are the dreams that drift amongst the floating, gathering at the end of May in the breeze of summer’s coming, in the cool glass of lemonade at the child’s street side stand, in the cheers at the ball game from the crowd rooting their team to victory and enjoying the best hot dogs in the world.

Let us all stop for a moment, whether it is on the traditional day, or the observed Memorial Day, or even at the end of May, and reach for those floating souls. Let us reveal to them how much we cherish their sacrifice for our free people. Let these memories harvest our recognition of the meaning of Memorial Day in a very simple wordy. And let that word, simply stated be: Thanks.

(copyrighted 2000)

(Permission to reproduce granted freely and unconditionally)

PEACE,
Bobby Ross

bobbyros@nashville.net
http://www.nashville.net/~bobbyros/webtv.html
medallion.webzine.cc
http://community-2.webtv.net/lanebrody/VETERANSDAYSPECIAL/

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SPLASH 2000!

SALUTE TO AMERICAN VETERANS, THEIR FAMILIES AND FRIENDS ON
MEMORIAL DAY AND VETERANS DAY

SPLASH 2000!
AMERICAN VETERANS
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“…you’re a monster.”

And you’re a stupid-assed bee-yotch, “Emily”.

Seriously, Haverty’s?&#160 You’ve got a psychotic bimboid as your spokes-trollop, and you think that’s gonna compel me to purchase your furniture?&#160 Really???

Really???

Back to the drawing board for you fools.