Tebow, and Truth

How to Kill
(by R.P.Edwards)

Dehumanize your enemy
Declare them less than man
So much easier to dispose of
To fill the selfish plan
Treat them like a tumor
Remove and throw away
They’ll never stand to face you…
Until the judgment day

The Superbowl is upon us and, one of the commercials of controversy (although not yet seen by the general public at the time of this posting) has to do with Tim Tebow--a Heisman trophy winner who, over twenty years ago, was offered life by his mother, Pam, against the advice of her physicians who thought her recovery from a debilitating disease would be aided by the in Utero destruction (abortion) of her unborn son.  She, a Christian missionary, put her faith in a higher physician…and the world is blessed by her decision.

Now, apparently this commercial is a very low key celebration of life and family (otherwise it wouldn’t have been allowed in this venue).  Nevertheless, those who strongly support abortion rights are crying “foul!” They (although, remember, the commercial has not yet been seen) have elicited the aid of a couple sports spokesmen (Sean James and Al Joyner) to counter the message by gently (I watched ‘em) reminding us of the rights and wisdom of women. 

Just a slight word of advice.  Instead of taking the “athlete” tack, I recommend a more direct, more transparent approach.  So, when, say, Pam Tebow says how she’s glad that her son was born; counter by having women testify who are glad they’ve had an abortion .  And, when Tim says how he’s glad he had a chance to be born, counter with an individual who is glad he was never given that chance.  Come to think of it…that last part might be difficult.

Once again, the issue is not the choice of the woman, but whether the baby in the womb…is a “baby” in the womb.  Oh, that we would at least adopt the standard used in our criminal justice system to give these little guys a chance!  C'mon, let’s seriously look at this precious, unique, growing thing in the womb…and see if it rises to the level of “a reasonable doubt” of being human.  And, since “it” obviously does…let’s let him or her be born and “then” if mom wants to give the baby away…fine. 

As an aside:  I read one account where a pro-abortion group said the sponsor of the Tebow ad (Focus on the Family) is an extremist organization; well out of the mainstream.  What a laugh…and what a sad commentary on who we have become. 

That's what I think.  How about you.  Click comments below...and say.

The Baseline

The Baseline
(by R.P.Edwards)

The baseline
The standard
The foundation
The stone
The measure
Forever
The future
To hone 
But
Now we’ve been told
That the past
Is askew
Yes
It took all this time
To discover
What’s true

“Here, put this plastic tube in your mouth; take a deep breath, and then, when I say so, blow till you almost pass out.”  A paraphrase of the instructions given to me at one of the many stations at my yearly work physical. Also on the menu was an EKG, X Ray, blood pressure check, vision, ears, chat with the doc, and a refit of a respirator (that I’ll probably never use).  That “respirator” thing meant I had to leave my beloved goatee in the sink (alas.)

The thing about “Physicals” is that there is a known “norm.”  We have established long ago (“we” as in smart people, not me) how a “healthy” body will respond or register.  Anything outside these parameters…and there’s a problem; a problem that needs to be addressed.  And, since we humans have limited warranties (the “physical” body anyway) as I get older the company is adding on some extra checks to make sure I’m not on the verge of keeling over.

The other day the Secretary of Defense, Robert Gates, said something that scared me.  He said, “We have received our orders from the commander in chief and we are moving accordingly.”  He was referring to, as you might surmise, the President’s view of human sexuality and its--as far as human rights go-- equality with race.  In other words, open homosexuality should be allowed and accepted in the military.  

Now, a couple days ago (when I started this blog) this discourse would have been more passionate and pointed.  Indeed, when I began I had a lighthearted fantasy concocted of how Arlington National Cemetery would be converted to farmland since the soil, due to the multiplied thousands of interred rolling in their graves, made the land perfect for crops.  However, let me forgo all that and just ask, again: When the vote was cast for Hope and Change, was it your desire that the “Don’t ask, Don’t tell” policy be discarded?  Was it your hope that human sexual preferences be put on par with ethnicity?  Was it your dream that abortion would be expanded and established--even more than it is--as a constitutional right?  Did you really yearn for larger government and a greater tax burden?   

I began this tepid piece (sorry) with the story of the baseline.  As a nation, our foundation, our “baseline,”  goes back to a time when modern interpretations of the constitution were unthinkable.  Understand, I do not question the sincerity of the president (or that of the many new hires), but I do question their vision…or should I say “revision.”  And, if I am in the minority…so be it.  But, before I consign myself to that place, I’d like to know for sure…Is this really the change you wanted?

That’s what I think.  How about you?  Click comments below…and say.

I Love Gloves!

I Love Gloves!

(by R.P.Edwards)

When I was young

so long ago

I used to get wet

I used to get cold

I used to get hurt

I used to get burned

I didn't know

what I needed to learn

But then I heard a voice

as if from above

It said, "Listen boy! Get you a glove!"

So I did

and now I say

I love gloves!

As the rest of the world sleeps...As the sane snuggle another hour or two, I think it only appropriate to begin the "dayshift" with a new video, titled, "I love gloves!"  I dedicate it to my employer, U.S. Steel because...truly...they love gloves.  And now...so do I.

So, before you partake of the heavy, depressing subjects of the day, grab your folgers and click on the video link to the left.  You'll never look at your gloves the same way...again.

Comments?  Click comments below...and say.

No deficit in double talk

Double Standard
(by R.P.Edwards)

Deficit spending
We know you well
Overextending
Credit card…hell
But the government’s different
They charge
And WE pay
But
We’d go to jail…
if we did things Their way

Chili n Cheese omelet.  First tried it in Hawaii, over thirty years ago.  This morning, due to left-over chili in the fridge (nearly old enough to walk) I volunteered a couple eggs to accompany the beans.  Not bad.  Went well with the ancient heel of bread found buried in the cupboard (not fuzzy yet).  Doggone it! Can’t stand to throw the old timers out!

Noticed the new budget has been announced (yawn.)  Seemed a mix of… “the other guys fault” and  “it’s for your own good.”  Which equates to, as usual, massive and getting bigger…debt.  I especially like the “investment” strategies, like education.  Yes, throw more money at the kiddies.  Honestly, as a home schooling family (no tax credit, no government help, and we still pay taxes to help the local schools) the solution is (and I almost hate the word due to its soiled associations); the solution is…Choice.  Give a voucher to mom and dad and let them pick the school.  With a little competition, schools and scores would soar.  I know “we” could do wonders with just half the money allotted each child.

And yes…the deficit.  Since the title of this blog is “The Layoff Letters,” it was during that time when we realized just how wayward our budget had been.  Prior, we had been living with the assumption of continued increase.  However, reality arrived…and we have had to adjust.  So, the question:  When will “reality” make an appearance in the halls of congress?  From the proposed budget…it’s not there yet.

That’s what I think.  How about you.  Click comments below…and say.

Striving after Wind

The Common Thing
(by R.P.Edwards)

Subordinates
And CEOs
A common thing
Have they
Each will stand
Before the Lord
And for their actions…
Pay

It’s an Ecclesiastes kind of morning.  The Old Testament book, penned by the “son of David,” is a bit of a downer; but…it puts things in perspective.  We, who spend so much time in desperate pursuits; we, who tirelessly strive to satisfy the flesh, the mind, and the ego; we, who may be willing to cast aside the most important elements (our fellow travelers) in order to ascend the ladder of “importance;” in the end…it is “vanity”… a “striving after wind.”

And so, as I prepare to engage in “my” daily doings and, as my fellow travelers do the same, it would do us well to take note of the writer's final admonition for, “this” life, dear reader, is but a vapor.

The conclusion, when all has been heard, is;
Fear God and keep His commandments,
Because this applies to every person.
For God will bring every act to judgment,
Everything which is hidden,
Whether it is good or evil.

(Ecclesiastes 12:13)

That's what I think.  How about you?  Click comments below...and say.

President Obama's Garnish

The Garnish
(by R.P.Edwards)

They treat Him like a garnish
Not fish…or fowl…or meat
A bobble for the masses
Not something
That you eat
A “nothing,” meant to placate
Diverting common view
So they can feed us poison
Disguised as good…and true

A couple years back, the then “chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff,” Marine General, Peter Pace, said, “I do not believe the United States is well served by a policy that says it is OK to be immoral in any way.”  By “immoral” the good general was referring to homosexuality; putting it in the same class as adultery.  He was, as you might surmise, a proponent of the ongoing “Don’t ask, Don’t tell” policy, whereby military personnel were, and are, forbidden to enquire as to ones sexuality, and, if homosexual behavior became, or becomes known…expulsion is the result.

Now, fast forward to 2010.  President Obama declares that “it’s the right thing to do” to abolish the policy that has served us so well these many years and give homosexuality equal standing with race.  Yes, the chief executive has put his stamp of approval on what has been traditionally referred to as an aberrant lifestyle, and is trying his best to bring the rest of us…up to speed.  Sigh.

Let me step aside for a moment.  I am not involved in a crusade against homosexuals.  I frankly don’t care what people do in their bedrooms.  But, when it comes to the efficiency and continuity of the armed forces; social engineering has no place. 

But let’s get to the “meat” of the complaint; in the oval office we now have a president who, although he is quick to acknowledge Jesus Christ and drop a Christian phrase; he has shown himself to be very pro-abortion, and very pro-gay agenda.  Frankly, the two sides don’t mix, and it grieves me that so many of my brothers and sisters are indifferent when their precious Savior is continually dragged through the mud. 

But, that’s just me.  Perhaps I’m out of touch.  Perhaps the new Christianity, as defined by academia and Hollywood; perhaps that’s the way to go.  After all, these elites have done so much for me.  They built this great nation, suffering through toil and trouble.  They left their blood on the beaches of Iwo Jima and Normandy.  They laid their lives down at Bunker Hill and Gettysburg.  They have shown, through their tireless, timeless striving and their years-long suffering and sacrifice that they know how to humbly bow and enquire of the divine mind.  To touch, perchance, He who endowed us with our rights to “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.” 

Excuse me.  A moment of insanity.  Actually I think the morality of the elite is akin to the foam that gathers on the top of a cesspool. 

By-the-way, the other night I heard the testimony of a “former homosexual” who said that because of Jesus Christ (the real one), his desires were now directed towards women, not men.  If you, or anyone you know is looking for an “out” from the gay lifestyle, following is a link to an organization that can help:
Exodus International


That’s what I think.  How about you.  Click comments below…and say

Cold Hands

 

 

Cold Hands
(by R.P.Edwards)

Cold is cool
When way too hot
But unwelcome cold
Is really not
So keep your frozen hands
At bay
Don’t touch my bod
In any way
For if you do
I’ll memory keep
And wait for “your”
So toasty sleep
And with “my” frozen fingers
Prod
So keep your ice cubes
Off my bod!

Over the years he had been known by many names; John the giant, John the great, John the gentle, but, to those in the northernmost headquarters of  “Fish and Game,” he was simply known as, John.  He was, without question, the most successful poacher of the artic fox and the Alaskan marmot and, although most in the bureau gave him a pass (and a wide berth) --as much for his amazing knowledge of topography and survival skills, as for his inoffensive search for a little pocket change to support his habit of chewing tobacco and gin--, there was always the “new guy” who wanted the feather and so, Ronny, the transplant from the lower forty-eight, went on a “John” hunt and, by golly, he found him.

It was a long walk back to the wardens snow cat and, with the old, and rather round “poacher” off to his left (no resistance given, a few pelts hanging from his belt) John veered ever so slightly to one side as they walked a frozen river to save a little time. “John!,” bellowed the near-teen, “this way!”  That’s all he had time to say for, as the trapper knew (and only assumed that anyone venturing this far north would know) there was a thinning of the ice where one stream met another.  Crack! Kersplash! And, a moment later, a deep guttural grunt as the “criminal” lifted the young man up from certain death.  A few minutes later, as time and subzero temperatures would cause frostbite to claim at least some of the fingers of the novice, John ripped the gloves from the popsicle and then thrust the icy hands inside his own thick coat, one under each arm, skin to skin.  And…there they stood…face to face…for the ten minutes need for the thaw.  Two hours later, after sharing some cooked rabbit by a robust fire (and a shot of “fire” for the innards), the warden bid John adieu, and never again sought him out, or tolerated a word against him. 

It was the water-pump.  I poked my head under the car and followed the water.  I had hoped for a hose, but it was merely the launching point for the water streaming from the weeping organ.  Ugh, another new experience.  So, with the aid of my daughters fiancé (heck, he did most of it), we took the thing apart and purchased a new pump.  The next day, as I struggle to remove the lower hose (thought I might as well replace it), the freezing temperatures (no garage) and the soaking of coolant, caused my little digits to cry out for warmth.  So, I got up, went in the house and, seeing my fifteen year old son warm and toasty at the crack of noon, I removed his quilt and placed my frigid fingers on “John’s” hot chest.  Immediately I got his attention, but he didn’t scream or even protest (other than the look in his eyes and the slight quivering of the six foot three frame).  After a minute I had a proposal.  “I tell you what, son.  I’ll let you stay in bed if you allow me to warm my hands on you every few minutes.”  He got up.

That's what I think.  How about you?  Click comments below...and say.