Wednesday, July 29, 2009

The Profiler

The Profiler

(by R.P.Edwards)

A policeman named Crowley
A professor named Gates
One said, “His duty,”
The other cried, “Hates!”
What’s so sad is… it’s confirming
Of my profiling tool
No, not of race…
But of an Ivy League School

You know, this profiling thing is a mixed bag. To naturally associate bad behavior with skin tone is…shameful. Imagine being singled out for investigation because of your melanin level. Of course, there is the flip side. It’s the kind of profiling that advertisers depend on. Oh sure, they use the word “demographics“…but we know what they mean. Face it, certain groups are more prone to buy certain things and these business folk know how to push the "buy buttons" (seen those hamburger commercials?)

And so we come to Scholar Gates, and Cambridge cop, Crowley. As many know, the good professor became quite irate when the policeman came to his door due to a call made by a concerned citizen. Now, I don’t know if the prof was simply having a bad day, or perhaps past run-ins with armed peace-keepers produced a knee-jerk reaction, or possibly the anti-authority atmosphere of upper academia somehow tainted his perception. But, due to my limited experience and observation, I wholeheartedly choose the latter. You see, when I think of judges legislating from the bench…I think of their teachers at the university. When I think of godless media folk…I think of their instructors in academia. When I think of the general twisting of society, be it from the legislative seat or the high school rostrum, I trace it back to the perverse spawning grounds of “higher” education. So, to the professor, I say “Thank you for affirming my beliefs.”

Yes, I admit it, when it comes to the doctoral digs I am an unabashed, broad-brush, they’re all alike, profiler. But, what do you expect from a Midwestern, redneck, union steelworker.

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

Monday, July 27, 2009


The Weaver

(by R.P.Edwards)

Carefully, with silken strides
She weaves the needful place
Beauty formed
And deadly done
A graceful, grasping space
But when, perchance
While seeking life
An impostor then is found
She wastes no time
In sharing rhyme
She casts it to the ground!

It’s an American tradition. A bedrock sort of thing. Sunday afternoon, July, a gentle breeze, birds in the trees and…sizzling on the grill…hamburgers and hot dogs. True, earlier in the day, in our post-church wandering of the grocery store aisles, we bandied about the age-old question, “What do you want for dinner?” This, of course, led to categories, and sub-categories, and ultimately led us to ground-chuck, and the lowly hot dog. But now, all the difficult decisions of the day having been made, I focused on the task at hand.

After a few minutes; after the first flip; while the burgers simmered on the cooling rack above and the hot dogs, below, became…hot, my youngest son…sensing the shrinking window of opportunity…came outside to share a man-moment with dad. And, after passing (temporarily) the flat and squarish baton, I had him remove the tasty disks to a waiting cookie sheet and, midst the motions, I pointed out…the web.

There, hanging beneath a neighbor's second-story screened in porch, clinging to the horizontal support timber above and reaching diagonally to the vertical post to the left, a spider (some sort of orb-weaver I suppose, my father would know) had constructed a beautiful trap. As I pointed out this elaborate fly-catcher to my man-child, I remembered (and related) times past when I would tease these industrious eight-leggers by tossing into their net some tiny, lifeless matter. The spider, upon investigation, would quickly toss the “imposter” out of the web. She apparently had no time for that which did not add to her life.

And so…I was thinkin’. This little bug (I know, “arthropod”) is smarter than we. For, when we find that which is dead and lifeless invading our collective “webs,” we often tolerate the space-takers until our life-necessity is cluttered and clunky. Perhaps we should follow the lead of that little weaver.

(alright, here’s an addendum. I’m talking, mainly, of “non-human stuff”…not your spouse. If he or she is still wiggling…give ‘em a chance.)

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Which Jesus?


(by R.P.Edwards)

Who is this Jesus
Who easily drips
From Hollywood mouths
And Washington lips
Who’s used as a prop, a tool, a display
To justify murder…and going astray
Yes, who is this Jesus
Oh, wait! Wait! I know!
He must be the one
From so long ago
When those in the South
Would worship their God
Then right after church
Beat their slaves with a rod
Yes, it must be “that” Jesus
Yes, he is the one
But one thing’s for sure
He isn’t…the Son

Let’s make it personal. Just suppose I was a bandit, who, in the course of my robbery of “you” and your “pregnant wife” caused, inadvertently, the death of she and the baby, or perhaps, just the baby. In most cases you would insist on a single or double homicide charge and, in many cases…you‘d get it.
You see, death is a personal thing, and when you kill my heritage--that tiny human being that is tied directly to me--then misleading and deflecting words like “fetus,” and “potential life” are thrown right out the window. My “child” is dead, and you, sir, are a murderer.

And so we come to the grand health care aspirations of the current president. Certainly, care for all is laudable but, if what I‘ve heard is true--that the inclusion of abortion funding is in said legislation--then this universal healthcare bill…is damnable.

You know what I’d like to see? I’d like to see some Christians (myself included) and commentators…man up. How about some ministers reminding the flock that there is good and evil, and that murder is evil. And then take the next step and say that politicians who support evil should be shunned. How about some commentators using the “m” word instead of bowing to PC speak. Need some help; some inspiration? Just think of every aborted child…as “your” child, your son, your daughter. You wouldn’t tolerate lessening their humanity. You wouldn’t dehumanize them because others thought them less.

Finally, I have little ill will towards the president. He said during the campaign that he was pro-abortion. This, for me, nullified any references he made in regards to my Savior (Remember Jesus said, "You shall know them by their fruit"?) Unfortunately, many of my pro-life brothers and sisters fell for it…and now more blood spills. Oh, for repentance in the pulpits…and the pews…and in politics.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

The Ultimate Sin

The Sin

(by R.P.Edwards)

Greater than the liar
Much worse than the thief
Way above the “Armed and D…”
The felons that cause grief
More horrid than the murderers
That is: the baby-killing kind
Are those who hurt our furry friends
Much worse…you’ll nary…find

It was in the Sunday paper. I heard about it from a co-worker and checked it out for myself. Yup, Michael Vick was due to be sprung from the penal system and, if his one on one with the Football commish goes well (his penitent soul being scrutinized for sincerity), Mr. Vick might possibly…just maybe…be allowed to sneak (tail between his legs) back into the NFL to try and regain some of his former wonder…and wealth.

Now, I’m not here to lessen the offenses committed by the former pro-player. His dog-fighting doings were nasty, to say the least. Cruel?…yes. Reprehensible?…yes. Worthy of punishment?…yes. But, please, let’s put things in perspective. For instance, less than two miles from my computer station is a rather large abortion clinic. In this one horrid place, over the last three and one half decades, the respected “professionals” who operate this chop shop have killed (I would say “murder,” but that’s so…so…accurate), anyway, in this one clinic more Americans have been snuffed out than died in World War I, Korea and Vietnam…combined! And yet…they practice their grisly tasks with hardly a peep from the locals and, of course, nothing negative from the press.

And so…this is our “modern” America. Lovers of all non-human life; be it owl, minnows, or our lovable pooch. But when it comes to the most important species…the one with the “divine spark,”….well, that one is inconsequential. Here’s a tip for Mr. Vick; if you’re not allowed back into the “game,” or if your body has passed its competitive prime, then consider training to be an abortionist. Then you can be as hateful and destructive as you want…and the press and their peers…will love you.

Thursday, July 16, 2009

McCorvey v Sotomayor


(by R.P.Edwards)

A pawn
A tool
A way to blood
A goal accomplished
An evil flood
But midst the pain
And endless sighs
A Savior finds
And gives…new eyes

Norma McCorvey. My wife mentioned the name in the context of certain “protestors” being removed from the Sotomayor Senate hearing. Honestly, I thought I was finished with this charade (c’mon, we all know the outcome), but this revelation warranted one more revisit.

As many know, Ms McCorvey was the “Jane Roe” of “Roe v Wade” fame. You remember? The infamous Supreme Court case where seven black robed men assumed the mantle of God and, subsequently, signed the death warrant for fifty million Americans (and counting)? What you may not know, however, is that years later (her child, by-the-way, was “not” aborted) the former plaintiff was introduced to the love of Christ and, this introduction led to a surrender to the Savior Himself. Funny thing about fellowshipping with the Author of Life, it will change your view on things. And she--who once thought killing the unborn was a source of liberty--she now realized that it is what it is…the murder of a child. Thus, the lady who was a pawn in the plot to subjugate a nation, is now a force for good.

A gentle reminder: Abortion…either it’s moral…or it’s murder. Either the thing in the womb is a soulless entity without rights, or it’s a distinct human life formed by the finger of God and as such...deserving full protection. Remember, legalized abortion is an evil forced upon us by the Supreme Court. It was not the peoples choice…it was not voted on, or grandfathered in (like Slavery), it was the invention of a handful of mere men. Understand also...this issue will not go away as long as there are people of Christian conscience walking the streets. Norma McCorvey is one such person.
Who will join her?

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Sotomayor and the Jurists Supreme

Jurist Supreme

(by R.P.Edwards)

Unprecedented power
Unprecedented gall
Molding in their image
Subverting one…and all
Twisting sacred contracts
Rewording sacred text
A sowing to the whirlwind
A heritage…to vex

I was watching (for just a few moments) the hearing to determine the worthiness of Justice Sotomayor to assume a place on the Supreme Court. Considering the makeup of the Senate, her approval is a forgone conclusion. Nevertheless, a gentle reminder is needful as to just how powerful these black-robed individuals are.

Consider: In 1857 the Taney court handed down the infamous Dred Scott ruling; a decision that basically said that those of African descent never were, and never could be citizens; a statement unsupported by the Constitution, or history. This “we say so” edict brought the nation to the very brink of Civil War…and beyond. Consider: After Americans bled and died and expended themselves to the full on behalf of the suffering millions in World War II, it was shortly thereafter that the Supreme Court began removing God from public schools. Somehow these sovereigns determined that, even though the Bible and scripture were an integral part of education at the time of the Constitution’s birth (indeed, prayer and Bible reading were a needful support during the recently concluded global conflict); for some reason these jurists forwarded a secular ideal that has slowly pushed God out of our history and heritage. Question: Do you really think that this was the intent of the founders, to remove God and Judeo-Christian morality from the classroom? And then there’s the decision that human life is (as their nineteenth century mentors might say) chattel, property, “things” to be disposed of at will. As a consequence, fifty million children have been murdered in the womb. And then there’s the decision that private property may be stripped from an individual, not for right-of-way, but because the new tenants may be more profitable (dollars). And, then there’s the blurring of the ancient lines of relationships. And, while we’re at it, do you really think that the framers of the Fourteenth Amendment (the catchall excuse used to force federal mandates on the states); do you really think that these writers intended this liberty preserving amendment be used to enforce the whims of the nine kings? As Thomas Jefferson wrote, "The a mere thing of wax in the hands of the judiciary, which they may twist and shape into any form they please."

The conclusion: Once again, it is “works” not words, “deeds” not creeds, “actions” not flowery, lofty rhetoric that matters and, when we elect those who willingly place manipulators in positions of power…we have no one to blame…but ourselves.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009



(by R.P.Edwards)

“Worth…it comes from rarity”
Said the jeweler to his son
“To find the gems with perfect fire…
The values upward run
This diamond, here
That ruby, there
The others, in their way
So very few you’ll find like these…
So the customer…must pay.”
Then the little boy
With upheld hands
Was lifted to the breast
And as he lay against the silken tie
He whispered from his rest
“You’re my only daddy,
So you’re worth most of all”
Then the jeweler paused…
And kissed his son….
As golden tears…did fall.

“Do you know what this is?” I said to my fifteen year old son as I waved four one dollar bills (the cost of his prospective shoe rental at the local bowling alley) in front of his face. “That’s three loaves of bread,” I continued. “We could live a week on that--with a few additions, naturally. But here you go.” Now, let the reader understand (especially if any relatives are online) that this lecture was not terribly serious, but the awareness level was indeed raised. As so very many in this economy can attest, decreased income causes increased scrutiny. Where a year ago I would have parted with the “ones” with a wave, now they are rationed. A year ago, when simple automotive hiccups would perplex, I would let the “professionals” diagnose, and treat. Yes…with decreased supply…comes increased value and, of course, the most valuable things among us…are not “things” at all.

As an aside: in the early part of the last decade (when our household population was halved and my steel mill stint had not yet begun) there was a discount store (still there) that sold loaves of bread for twenty-five cents. My lament would be, “Do you know how many loaves of bread you could buy with that money?” Funny how old inclinations surface under duress. And…Oh yes…the loaves at that particular store have only tripled in price. We, with a larger crew, now go for the jumbo package found elsewhere.

Sunday, July 5, 2009

You want fries with that?


(by R.P.Edwards)

“Trust,” said the wise old man,
“is like a bridge’s span.
At first a simple walkway,
Enough for just one man.
But then, with time, and steady steel
The weighty things may come.
Until, at last, the world itself
May pass…when ’trust’ is done.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Edwards, you didn’t pass.” “Wha…what do you mean, I didn’t pass? You mean the drug…” “No, no, nothing like that. Your breath, blood, urine, hair and toenail samples…all fine.” “Then what? What else is there?” “Well, to be honest, it’s not so much what you have or haven’t done --in fact, your FBI background check, credit report, DNA profile, Interpol file--well, these all checked out. It’s just that your neuroscan…” “My neuro what?” “Your Neuroscan--that wired helmet thing we had you wear while watching Fox News--well, it showed some disturbing tendencies. I’m afraid we can’t take a chance.” “Wait a minute! Are you telling me you can’t hire me because of my …thoughts!?” “Well, no. Actually it’s your potential thoughts. Your current thinking is mundane enough--no offense--but when you watched that segment on the economy, well, let’s just say…it sent up a red flag. Sorry, Mr. Edwards. Better luck next time.” “That’s it? After all I’ve been through? All the preparation, training, expense, sacrifice…and that’s it?!” “I’m afraid so. Now, please exit to your left. There are a lot more applicants to disappoint.” “But…I…I!” “I’m sorry, Mr. Edwards, you’ll have to go. (phone rings) Excuse me a moment. ‘Yes, Cindy, I am having a little trouble here. Please send in security. Yes, I’m grabbing the tazer, right now.’”

Had my pre-go back to work physical the other day. It kind of reminded me of fast food: A drug test, with a side of exam. It was also a bit like elementary school science… “Now, class, we’re going to discuss the three states of matter…gas, liquid, and solid.” Well, that’s what was required of me, and all the rest of the returnees. The company wanted to make sure I wasn’t on drugs…now…recently…or months ago. And, oh yeah, we’ll check a few vitals since you’re in the neighborhood.

Now, you need to understand, I don’t begrudge a huge corporation--an industry that involves not only millions of dollars in assets, but also equipment that can be deadly--I don’t begrudge them from using the layoff to finally screen the old timers. I just mourn the death…of trust. Perhaps there was a time when working with someone, watching someone, “knowing” someone…for years! counted for something. Alas, those times are gone (at least in my industry). Now we lean on chemical indicators and soulless stats. We put our trust in things…not people. So be it.

Saturday, July 4, 2009

Palin Patriot

(by R.P.Edwards)

A common beginning
A common birth
A common striving
A common worth
And then the breaking
The shaking wind
And “common” yields
To strength within
Uncommon deeds
Uncommon words
Uncommon faith
Where blood is heard
Uncommon valor
Uncommon call
Uncommon gift
To common…all

Independence Day and, as I looked out the back door…rain, rain, and more…rain. A bit disheartening as our Church has a food station at the local park where a traveling carnival has put down temporary roots. A dampening of sorts…this rain thing, but perhaps appropriate as the burning torch of America has been, itself, attacked by those who would quench its very essence.

I wasn’t going to publish today but, since I heard of Governor Palin’s “leaving office” news last night, I thought a few lines would be appropriate. Honestly, I haven’t paid much attention to the good lady since the November elections. I know there are certain segments who detest her and hound her incessantly. But I value the judgments of these individuals…not at all (who should?) And, sadly, these faultfinders may be part of the reason she is leaving office prematurely. Imagine, being accused of ethics transgressions and then, even though exonerated, you are still punished by paying a hefty legal tab? Now, I don’t know if these charges were brought by office holders, but if they were I sincerely hope that the fine folk of the Northern State…give them a well deserved boot. Unless, of course, the people of Alaska have gone the way of Minnesota. You remember Minnesota? The state that just placed a bitter ex-comic in the U.S. Senate? At first I thought there might be something toxic in those “10,000 Lakes,” but then I realized that this segment of society merely highlights the way of the nation. For, with this last election, we have confirmed that the majority desires celebrity, not substance; words, not works; a veneer, and not virtue.

But as for me, a pro-life, pro-union Steelworker, I support Sarah Palin. And I dare say, if I was in the military and needed to know that my government had my back…I would sleep easier with Sarah Palin in office. And, if I were to trust an office-holder to handle carefully my tax dollars--not spending my children and their children into debtors prison-- Sarah Palin would be that office-holder. And, if I were an innocent babe in the womb, being knit together by the very finger of God, I would at least have hope…if Sarah Palin were in office. So, here’s to you Governor, I wish you well. And, on this day when patriotism is so much more than a burger and a beer, I look forward to the time when politicians of your caliber are the norm, and not the exception.

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