Do you know where your child is?

I know exactly where mine is! Kinda.

Arriving yesterday he's there -- somewhere in there -- until August 7 with his Search and Rescue class for eight ten-hour days of "fun" called Structural Collapse Training. "There" we learned last night when Da Kid called to let us know he'd arrived safely is Hunter Air Force Base (which is what he referred to it as) outside of Savannah. In Savannah. All Da Kid ever said about where he was going to for training was that it was in Savannah. I don't think he knew.

Hunter AFB is also known as the Hunter Army Airfield / Ft. Stewart complex. It's also home to the Coast Guard's Search and Rescue for the entire southeastern United States.

Based on Da Kid's quick call ("The Eating Machine" hadn't had a chance to eat all day and starving.) it's almost a city unto itself with numerous fast food places and restaurants on base. That took a load off his mind! Lodging for them, he knew, had been taken care of and covered although he didn't know any of the details, but not food. Meals were up to them to figure out.

Not knowing where they'd be sleeping, Da Kid took with him his station "bedding": a pillow and a blanket. When he said last night that their sleeping quarters were on base, Hubby and I immediately assumed barracks until Da Kid mentioned that this is the nicest place he'd ever stayed in.

Wherever the heck they're being put up I sure don't know, but everyone has their own bedroom, although (I think he said) four other "bedrooms" share the same living room and kitchen.

As I said it was a quick call, but I suspect the station bedding Da Kid brought with him is still in his truck.

Nausea

I read the first story a few weeks ago. Aside from human interest, there wasn't much that pricked my attention until several paragraphs along. With two older children already and triplets just three years ago, a woman had just given birth by Caesarean section to quadruplets.

And then . . .

"She wanted to run," said her husband, Afredo Anzaldo, 45, who lays carpet for a living.

How the heck can they afford the ones they already have much less four new ones, I wondered. Laying carpet in California must pay a helluva lot better in than I thought or he's working for a high-end company that's paying him plenty.

But then . . .

The 11 family members will be living in a one-bedroom apartment in east Los Angeles. [Magdaleno] said the living room is large, but she isn't sure what the family will do when the babies get bigger.

I thought to myself, Self, how much you want to bet they're illegal aliens.

I'm glad I declined the bet with myself because they are. But, it gets better. And yes, that's sarcasm you detect.

Strangely, although I've found subsequent coverage all written by the same reporter with the LA Times and reprinted in various other papers, each one -- even the LA Times -- omitted certain, selected portions of the entire story that another one didn't.

Sam Quinones, the LAT reporter, writes sympathetically about the plight Angela Magdaleno and her husband Alfredo Anzaldo have faced and face today. And will in the future. Please forgive me if I have none.

While much of the material is the same, it's what one included that another chose not to that paints a fuller picture. The quoted material I'm using below, all with the same LAT byline, comes from the following different sources:

6 + 4 = 1 Tenuous Existence -- LA Times, July 28

Different choices, different lives -- The Seatle Times, July 29

With quadruplets, immigrant couple’s struggles multiply -- Lawrence Journal World, July 29

With quads, couple's struggles multiply -- IndyStar, July 29

~~~~~~~~~~~

U.S. immigrants' stories often are about reinvention and newfound prosperity, about leaving behind poverty and limitations.

That is not Magdaleno's story.

Magdaleno and Anzaldo are illegal immigrants

[snip]

Neither Magdaleno nor her husband speaks English, although she has been in the United States 22 years and he 28. Even her teenage daughters speak mostly Spanish; their English vocabulary is limited.

Yet all of Magdaleno's 10 children are U.S. citizens. The triplets receive subsidized school lunches. All the youngsters have had their health-care bills covered by Medi-Cal, the state and federal health-care program for the poor.

Alfredo Jr. had been hospitalized all his life until recently. He's had three state-funded brain operations, and will require several more as he goes through life, the family says. The couple receive $700 in monthly Social Security payments to help with his medical needs.

Isn't this just a heartwarming story! The common-law couple have been living here illegally for over 20 years, still can't speak English and neither can any of their children. They're all using taxpayer-supported services and receiving Social Security for the three-year-old son, one of the triplets, who's already been hospitalized most of his life and will still have to have "several more" brain operations at taxpayer's expense.

I'm not a monster but dammit, especially since . . .

"I didn't want any more children," said Magdaleno, who used fertility drugs to conceive the triplets but said she did not use them in the case of the quadruplets.

They're illegal, already have two children here that they can't pay for and she uses a fertility drug to have more!

Anzaldo had only daughters, and the couple were getting older. He saw his chance at having a son slipping away.

So now with five (four if you overlook the brain-damaged son who's been hospitalized for most of his life at taxpayer expense) Magdeleno said, "No mas!" But . . .

Magdaleno said she was wearing a birth-control patch to keep from getting pregnant, then took it off when it made her nauseated.

Yeah, Magdaleno. I know the feeling.

I'm feeling a just tad nauseated myself right now.

I'll take "Those 'Pesky Jooze'" for $1000, Alex.

I don't have a military background so I'm definitely not qualified to make any definitive judgements. I am, however, a reader, fairly-well <waggle hand> informed when it comes to current events and don't believe in coincidences. Actually, I do when it comes to some things but not this time.

Instead of a brain I have a sludge pit where bits and pieces of information become stuck, and sink below the surface only to reappear later and unexpectedly. Da Kid's been saying for years when it comes to recalling useless tidbits, I'm a natural for the game show Jeopardy. He says I'd be a big winner.

What was the big international news that had everyone's attention just a few weeks ago? No, not the North Korean Nutziod and his military missile program code-named "Splash." The one before that.

It was Iran's nuclear capabilities. Their president, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, was and is still playing games claiming that their nuclear intentions are peaceful (except for Israel which he keeps ranting must be obliterated) and they must have it for their power needs. And nobody can tell them they can't because if they try to, they're going to be obliterated right along with Israel.

Funny how all that disappeared from the headlines.

Iran has plenty of oil but has to import gasoline because it lacks refining capabilities. No argument there, but you'd think if they're putting so much effort, expense and know-how into a nuclear program for what they insist is much-needed power, building refineries and generating stations would be simpler and far more sensible.

The UN's IAEA, of course, is useless and as usual totally inept and corrupt. One of their inspectors complained about the lack of cooperation he'd been receiving from Iran. Iran told the IAEA to get rid of him. So the IAEA did.

About this time some began to recall a similar situation back in the early 80s with Iraq. The UN had been doing its usual (no)thing as the "international community" dithered about how to handle Saddam's nuclear program.

Don't worry, the assurances were. There's plenty of time to work this out. Iraq's YEARS and YEARS away from . . .

Finally Israel bombed Iraq's reactor and low and behold, that's when it was discovered Saddam was much closer to nuclear weapons than anyone knew. Or admitted they knew. If I recall correctly and I'm not absolutely certain I do, only a year?

Twenty-five or so years later the same situation is again occurring but this time with Iran.

Don't worry, the assurances have been. There's plenty of time to work this out, we're being told. Iran's YEARS and YEARS away from . . .

But if they're wrong again as we all know they are, everyone knows that Israel can be counted on to do what it did last time. Take out the nuclear program, this time Iran's.

Ahmadinejad may be nuts but he's not stupid.

Based on Israel's effectiveness in stopping Iraq's nuclear program, I wonder if he thought the best way to buy time to protect his own includes ordering Hezbollah and Hamas to do whatever they could to keep those pesky jooze distracted.

"Homeless" no more.

The nail-biting and nervous breakdowns over for now. The Deadly Duo closed on the house yesterday afternoon.

These aerial shots available via Zillow, which I mentioned here, are, I'm guessing, 10 years old or more. They don't do the place justice.

The current former owner put a lot of money into the house itself, not to mention having it fully landscaped and installing an irrigation system. The grass is now green and thick. Flowers bloom.

The neighborhood around them looks completely different, too, with everything appearing far better now than these images portray.

At the last minute the current former owner presented them with an unanticipated "problem." She didn't want to take her lawn mower or washing machine and dryer with her after all. Would it be okay if she left them there for them?

The problem? Deciding now which set is better: the almost-new washer and dryer they bought months ago, or the almost-new set they've just been given.

May all of their problems be as difficult.

WTF???

Two separate visits from one person with an aol account, who spent hours calling up individual entries. To read the comments maybe?

Weird.

I hate these things!

'What will your obituary say?' at QuizGalaxy.com

It's Paula's fault.

Guard the Borders Blogburst

Rallying Against Illegal Immigration
by Nathan Bradfield at Church and State

Groups such as the 21st Century Paul Revere Ride and "You Don't SPEAK For Me" are taking a stand against illegal immigration and trying to push the issue back to the forefront so Americans can hold their elected officials accountable at the polls.

More here.
~~~~~~~~~~With the elections only a few months away, this Blogburst offering is especially informative but I can't get it to format for me.

Please go to its source and read the whole thing.

Babbling at the keys

We were lucky with the three daycare centers Da Kid went to. Well, maybe not just lucky because working within the health department, I was located in the same building as the daycare inspectors. The code-speak was simple: if they liked a particular facility they'd say exactly why. If they really liked one they'd rave about it. On the other hand if there were any problems, even the tiniest violation that had been corrected long ago, their response was completely different. They couldn't give any information over the telephone. Since their inspection reports are open to the public, callers were advised that they were more than welcome to review the facility's file.

Da Kid was at small and homey "Miss Ann's" until he reached their four-year-old age limit. Miss Ann and Miss Nancy recommended another daycare (for older children) highly; the daycare inspector raved about it. Two years later we moved out here and wonder of wonders, one of the only two daycare centers the inspector raved about was at the church right next to our house.

It was a good choice but things didn't always go smoothly. Looking at the news, I remember one series of incidents in particular.

The Church has always been a welcoming place. Everyone is welcome and that included the children in its daycare. Da Kid had become friendly with another boy about his age. The boy's older and much larger brother was also enrolled, not that we knew that much about them at first except to exchange waves with their mother in the parking lot.

Da Kid's always been active so Hubby and I didn't think too much about the small bruises on him at first. Kids go bump. But the bruises starting becoming bigger, and then came the bite mark.

Da Kid told us his friend was picking on him when nobody was looking. He'd gone to the Church Ladies but since they hadn't seen anything, it was Da Kid's word against the other kid's.

The next morning I had a talk with the Daycare Director. The bruises were bad enough, but look at the bite at his arm! Everything would be fine I was assured. The Church Ladies would keep an extra eye out.

And everything was fine for a few days. A couple afternoons later, though, Da Kid was again bruised, with a new bite mark. This one on his back and it was worse than the one on his arm.

Back I went into the Director's office, this time with Da Kid although he didn't want to go.

It became one of those moments all parents, I'm sure, are familiar with. When you hear your own words come out of the mouth of your offspring and you realize you've really screwed up.

It wasn't just the younger brother who'd been hurting Da Kid. His older brother, who was close to my size, was involved, too. They'd wait until no one was paying attention and then the bigger one would hold Da Kid while the smaller one took his shots. All the shots he wanted. It was the older brother who'd chomped on Da Kid's back, too, while holding him for his brother to hit.

Da Kid couldn't get away. There was nothing he could do. So stood there and took it.

"Didn't you even try to fight back," I asked is disbelief.

"Mommy. You and Daddy told me not to fight."

Oh jeez.

Hubby and I had a long talk with Da Kid that night. The next afternoon when I pulled into the church parking lot, the first thing — and the only thing I saw at first — was Da Kid and the older brother slugging it out. By the time I parked and got out of my car, the big one was doubled over and backing off. The younger brother was getting up from the ground and also backing away.

The Church Ladies, the pastor and the Director suddenly appeared seemingly out of thin air, running to break up a fight that was already over.

The Church advised the brothers's screaming mother that afternoon that effective immediately, her sons were no longer welcome. And Da Kid got a one-day blue slip for fighting. In other words, he wouldn't be allowed in daycare the next day. It wasn't just for fighting, though. It was also for . . . I guess now-a-days some might refer to it as disproportionate force.

Hubby pulled in just in time to go with me as I took Da Kid and his blue slip into the Director's office, so that we could tell them together what we'd told Da Kid the night before:

We really didn't mean never fight, we'd told him. What we did mean was don't start one. Walk away if you can. But if there's no way you can and you have to fight, make sure you're the one who finishes it.

Lost & Found, and a Bleg

When I accidentally started this blog I was sure I wouldn't stay with it. But the 2004 elections were coming up . . . and I'd quit when they were done. Then something else came up and I kept on going. Obviously I still am.

I don't know about anyone else but a problem I've had -- and it's been increasing -- is looking for something I've previously blogged. I could do it through google on a separate page (and never found what I was looking for without a battle) OR use the google function at the top of my main page and lose it when the google results popped up.

Harvey at Bad Example has loads of helpful hints for bloggers, including this one on how to add a google search to a Blogspot site. Since I don't speaka da HTML too good, I've chickened out repeatedly thinking I'd screw something up. Like my sidebar. Again.

After another battle looking for something I know is there, somewhere, I said the heck with it. I've had enough!

I was shocked at how easy it was to add the version Harvey has for searching only within a specific blog. It works well, too, and opens the search results on a separate page which, to me, is important.

The larger version (specific blog or the Web) looks just as simple but I'm done messing with my sidebar for now.

My Bleg?

The way my archives is displayed is getting on my nerves. To get to something further down in my sidebar I've got to scroll through months and months and months.

I could move the archives lower, I know, and may end up having to do that. But, I've seen several blogs that have a little box that contains their archives in a scrollable form.

I'd much prefer doing that except I don't know how, or if there's a cut and paste format available out there and if so, where the heck to even start looking. Help!

Now, off to google what I was looking for . . . if I could only remember what it was.

UN-Equal

So long as it doesn't involve picking up its tab, the United Nations likes to pretend all member states countries are equal. Some, however, are obviously more equal; others less so.

In 2003 alone, the General Assembly issued 18 resolutions condemning Israel for rights violations, compared to four resolutions for other countries.

. . . writes Adam Entous (Reuters) in an article published in the Washington Post, explaining a few of the reasons why Israel is always suspicious of the UN's efforts and motives.

Some the UN's member states to which it extends its version of equality aren't nations at all, but terrorist organizations.

An Israeli commander at the Lebanese border recalls peering through binoculars one afternoon to see U.N. peacekeepers sipping tea with Hizbollah guerrillas.

Kofi's first suggestion on how to resolve the current situation was to send in peacekeepers. More? A different kind perhaps? The UN's had a presence on the Lebanon side of the border with Israel since 1978 so what . . . oh, that's right! They're not really peacekeepers but UNIFIL: UN Interim Force in Lebanon. Their sole purpose is humanitarian in nature . . . drink tea with members of Hezbollah so they don't feel lonely, I guess.

Relations between Israel and the United Nations plummeted after information emerged that U.N. peacekeepers on the Lebanon border suppressed video tapes of three soldiers being abducted by Hizbollah guerrillas in 2000.

UNIFIL denied the charge, but the U.N. later admitted unintentionally concealing evidence from Israel.

"We know that they had line of sight and could see the actual kidnapping. They could have put roadblocks up to prevent Hizbollah from escaping. But they didn't lift a finger," said Dore Gold, former Israeli ambassador to the U.N.

It is unclear whether the three soldiers were killed at the time of the raid and their bodies taken away or whether they were captured and killed later.

Jonah Goldberg adds in an LA Times editorial [Bugmenot]

[F]or eight months, the U.N. troops angrily denied even having the tape. When forced to admit they did, they refused to release it because that might compromise their "neutrality."

Neutrality like this?

On July 20 Kofi briefed the Security Council on the situation in the Middle East. In his statement he decried UNIFIL's inability to perform its huminitary mission in Lebanon, said he's going to issued a FLASH APPEAL for funds because the jooze have wrecked the place, and that the kidnapped Israeli soldiers should be returned "as soon as possible."

Now now. Not immediately. But "as soon as possible." When convenient. When the terrorists aren'ts too busy drinking tea with UN personnel, perhaps?

And Kofi wants a ceasefire, too. His version of a ceasefire, however, obviously affects only Israel.

As Ambassador John Bolton replied later, "How you get a ceasefire between one entity, which is a government of a democratically elected state on the one hand, and another entity on the other which is a terrorist gang, no one has yet explained."

(Image via Canadian Jewish News.)

LATER: Others have also noted the deafening silence of the humanitarians.

Guard the Borders Blogburst

A Clarification on my Position on Immigration
Written By Linda at Right as Usual

In talking to some readers, I realized that they were under the impression that I disliked immigrants.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

My maiden name sounded distinctly "ethnic" and unusual. As a result, most people assumed that I was one of the many displaced people that arrived in the Cleveland area after WWII, including the recently arrived.

I, not being the brightest bulb in the pack, just thought they were interested in fascinating me when they eagerly initiated conversations. I didn't realize at the time they were hoping to talk to a fellow "newbie".

This resulted in my acquiring friendships with people from:

* Estonia
* Germany
* Brazil
* Lebanon
* Syria
* India
* Taiwan
* Japan
* Hong Kong
* Pakistan
* Vietnam
* England
* Greece
* Jordan
* Romania
* Hungary
* Poland
* Spain
* Peru
* Korea
* Austria
* Liberia
* Yugoslavia
* Mexico

...just to name the ones I can think of off the top of my head.

With the exception of one person from Mexico, they all had something in common - they LEGALLY immigrated.

And that's the crux of my "problem" with immigration. I simply think it's unfair to keep allowing people to flow over the border without going through channels. Some want to think of themselves as compassionate people, who gladly accept the "poor, huddled masses, yearning to breathe free".

Yeah, right. By allowing those who ignore inconvenient laws to escape retribution, our country is denying law-abiding foreigners to claim their rightful spot in the queue. Folks, we can't accept everybody. The world holds over 6 billion people. At what point would you like us to stop taking everyone in?

When our economy breaks down under the strain of taking in under-educated, under-skilled workers? Many of them don't contribute to Social Security and taxes - they are paid under the table.

When our schools no longer have the ability to educate our children? It costs money to provide ESL services, folks.

When the illegals outnumber the natives? And vote against democracy? See last week's Blogburst articles for examples of THAT.

Any discussion of immigration has to begin with a recognition that we can't take in a flood of people without documentation, who started that journey by breaking the law, and who largely don't speak much English and have little education or skills. To do so jeopardizes the very structure of our society. We can bring in SOME, we can adjust to helping them assimilate, we just can't manage the process with this many at once.

Yeah, I know they just want to work. The question to ask is, would you give up YOUR job to help the immigrant? Would you take them into YOUR house? Would you work a second job to pay for educating their kids?

If not, then you haven't the right to expect the rest of the country to do what you won't do.

__________________________________________

This has been a production of the Guard the Borders Blogburst. It is syndicated by Euphoric Reality, and serves to keep immigration issues in the forefront of our minds as we're going about our daily lives and continuing to fight the war on terror. If you are concerned with the trend of illegal immigration in our country, join the Blogburst! Send an email with your blog name and url to euphoricrealitynet at gmail dot com.

Thicth

Or theven? Maybe eight? Who knowth. It wath thicth yearth ago today I came here for good. No more day vithitth or Tank vithiting me at the hothpital to make thure we got along. Thicth yearth ago I came home.

I wathn't thure what home wath back then. I wath at the hothpital for tho long I thought that wath it. I don't remember anymore where I wath before that. At leatht not when I'm awake and hardly anymore when I'm thleeping, either. I'd be real thcared when I did. Tank would thtick his head on top of me and thay everything wath fine. I wath here now. I wath home.

Tank taught what a good dog doth, and he taught me what a bad dog thouldn't do. It'th a lot to remember and thometimeth I thtill forget. Noeth are things bad dogth do but back then, I didn't know that tho I did them all. But . . . well, like thcooting out the fenth? Nuh-uh! Now I'm a good boy!

I did that no a lot at firtht, though, but I learned fatht not to. Really fatht. I never went far . . . and I thought it wath fun with my people walking after me. I could thee them and they could thee me but I'd let them get thith clothe and then I'd thcoot away thaying, "Can't catth me!"

Ecthept I'd get thirthty and go back home to get a drink. Tank would be waiting inthide the open gate. It'th hanging wide open and there wath Tank, thitting there waiting, becauth he thaid good dogth don't leave.

Every thingle time I got back, ath thoon ath My People got there too they clothed the gate. Tank would chathe me all over the yard until I couldn't run anymore, and then he'd beat the livin' thit out of me.

Anyway, My Boy wath home today and thaid I thmelled doggie. Thometimes I don't think he'th too thmart, either! Duh! I AM a dog!!!

But no. He thaid it was time for me to have a <thhiver> bath. I'm not thcared, I jutht REALLY hate getting wet. Hate it.

My Boy thayth I need thpethal thampoo. With condithoners and thit like that in it. I thought I'd never have to have another <thhiver> bath when they ran out after my latht one. My mithtake.

They bought more thampoo. It'th a different thampoo, though.

I'm thoft and thiney, but I don't think My People are ethpethially pleathed with thith one.

I don't thmell "doggie," anymore. Now they thay I thmell like . . .

Thomebody want to tell me what a whorehouthe ith?

LATER: Carnivalized at this week's Carnival of the Dogs.

"The deed is done."

If you're a "Florida Hurricane Blogger" or follow them looking for information when a system's brewing, you've probably noticed some of us mentioning Ward (The Hurricane Magnet) Brewer. It doesn't matter where he is in Florida even if it's only for a quick visit, if there's a hurricane anywhere in the area it's going to aim itself straight at him. And you if he happens to be in your neighborhood. It's uncanny.

When not running from hurricanes, Ward's blog, Operation Enduring Service, is more about the effort he's involved with more than anything else. Confederate Yankee provides the perfect description:

The premise for the program was really quite simple and broken down into several easily understood parts.

Start with mothballed ships that were no longer of use to the Navy.

Convert those of historical significance to floating museums.

Take others in good shape, and turn them into disaster response ships.

The rest—those that had no historical significance or were too worn or obsolete and destined for a scrapyard—would be salvaged to help pay to restore the museum ships worth restoring. Like most truly good ideas, it was simple and direct.

Periodically Ward's mentioned difficulties he's had with the U.S. Maritime Administration, a government agency OES is required to coordinate with.

Again, Confederate Yankee:

[T]he "Salvation Navy" . . . ran into the buzzsaw of incompetence, corruption, and criminality that may eventually implicate officials within the U.S Maritime Administration, the Department of Transportation, and other members of the Executive and Legislative branches.

More here.

Ward writes:

The information is in the proper hands, the investigations are beginning, our lawsuits have begun...MARAD officials will be served shortly.

You would not believe the firestorm that has just been started. The deed is done........

It's been a long time coming. Stay tuned to OES for developments.

Picture this?

Via: Curmudgeonly & Skeptical

That was fast!

Closing arguments were given just this morning in the New York City trial of Tongsun Park, who'd been accused of being a Oil-For-Food bagman for Saddam. This afternoon, the jury found him guilty.

Park, 71, is facing a possible 12-year sentence, but I don't think he's going to be spending much if any time behind bars.

As Claudia Rosett pointed out here, Park knows how the system works:

[I]n 1977 [Park] was indicted in a U.S. District Court on 36 counts . . . [including] conspiracy for a political payoff scheme, "bribery, illegal campaign contributions, mail fraud, racketeering, and failure to register as an agent of the KCIA" (KCIA being the Korean Central Intelligence Agency). Park was outside the U.S. when the indictment was issued, and after some negotiation, finally came back to testify in exchange for immunity.

The first trial involving the UN's Oil for Food scandal may be over but with so many bigger fish still out there to fry try, I suspect Park will be spending additional time in U.S. courts, but not as the defendant.

Barring falling down an elevator shaft, of course.

Quotable Quotes (The 'Rolling Fast' Edition)

"A hunger strike, or mortification of the flesh, is a noble and moral way of expressing one's moral dedication to a cause. But . . . wait. What the stars are actually planning on participating in is a "rolling" hunger strike. You've never heard of a rolling hunger strike before? How does that work? Well, one fasts for a day, then passes the obligation to another who fasts for twenty-four hours. That's not a hunger strike. That's not even the beginning of a good dieting attempt. That's maybe what a sixteen-year old girl does to ensure her prom gown won't be overly tight." -- Mahone Dunbar

"Personally, if celebrities have to “put their bodies on the line for peace,” I’d much rather see them bulk up. How about if Cameron Diaz and Gwyneth Paltrow promise to put on 20 pounds for every month Mr. Bush refuses to end his illegal war? Absent that, it’s hard to see what a “rolling fast” does except confirm the vague suspicion one or two Americans may harbor that politically active celebrities are a lot of vain dilettantes unwilling to discombobulate their pampered lifestyles." -- Mark Steyn

Shakespeare

THE TOP TEN PICK-UP LINES ONCE ACTUALLY USED BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

#10) Naturally "Romeo and Delores" is just a working title but I could be persuaded to change it for you M'Lady.

#9) Hey, how about a little puck?

#8) Et tu, cutie.

#7) Shall I compare thee to a brick outhouse?

#6) If I whispered in thine ear that thou hadst a body of beauty unknown but to the heavens, wouldst thou hold it against me?

#5) Hey baby, can Ophelia up?

#4) Without thine companionship dear lady, I fearest I'd spend the evening with pen in hand, if thout knowest what I mean.

#3) Wouldst thou away to yon Motel 6 with me?

#2) Is this a dagger I see before me? Nay, I'm merely happy to cast eyes upon thy beauty.

#1) Do me or not do me, that is the question.

Via: Hey Joe!

Fast-Breaking Quotes

My fast will begin on 7/04 and end on the last day of Camp Casey: 09/02. -- Cindy Sheehan, June 28

Anti-war activist Cindy Sheehan, whose son was killed in Iraq, said she would drink only water throughout the summer, which she said she would spend outside President George W. Bush's ranch in Crawford, Texas. -- Reuters, July 3

Sheehan, whose son Casey was killed in Iraq in 2004, had her last meal at 12 a.m. on July 4 in front of the White House and will remain on a diet of water, teas and juices until Sept. 1, International Peace Day. -- People, July 4

[T]he closest thing I could find to a smoothie to get a little protein was a coffee with vanilla ice cream in it. -- Cindy Sheehan, July 10
---------------(h/t Florida Cracker and Cindy Sheehan Watch)

Guard the Borders Blogburst

By Heidi at Euphoric Reality

This past weekend, the White House sent the Presidential advisor and Chief of Staff, Karl Rove, to participate in the National Council of The Race (La Raza) - the largest Hispanic entitlement advocacy group in the nation. In order to fully understand the influence of La Raza, it's important first to understand their agenda, and this Human Events exclusive by Rep. Charlie Norwood (R, GA) is as good a place to start as any:

Behind the respectable front of the National Council of La Raza lies the real agenda of the La Raza movement, the agenda that led to those thousands of illegal immigrants in the streets of American cities, waving Mexican flags, brazenly defying our laws, and demanding concessions.

Key among the secondary organizations is the radical racist group Movimiento Estudiantil Chicano de Aztlan, or Chicano Student Movement of Aztlan (MEChA), one of the most anti-American groups in the country, which has permeated U.S. campuses since the 1960s, and continues its push to carve a racist nation out of the American West.

Rep. Norwood goes into further detail about La Raza, MEChA, and the Spiritual Plan for Aztlan, which we've covered in the Blogburst previously, but the most chilling section is excerpted below:

"For La Raza todo. Fuera de La Raza nada."

That closing two-sentence motto is chilling to everyone who values equal rights for all. It says: "For The Race everything. Outside The Race, nothing."

If these morally sickening MEChA quotes were coming from some fringe website, Americans could at least console themselves that it was just a small group of nuts behind it. Nearly every racial and ethnic group has some shady characters and positions in its past and some unbalanced individuals today claiming racial superiority and demanding separatism. But this is coming straight from the official MEChA sites at Georgetown University, the University of Texas, UCLA, University of Michigan, University of Colorado, University of Oregon, and many other colleges and universities around the country.

MEChA was in fact reported to be one of the main organizers of those street demonstrations we witnessed over the past [months]. That helps explain why those hordes of illegal immigrants weren't asking for amnesty -- they were demanding an end to U.S. law, period. Unlike past waves of immigrants who sought to become responsible members of American society, these protesters reject American society altogether, because they have been taught that America rightfully belongs to them.

MEChA and the La Raza movement teach that Colorado, California, Arizona, Texas, Utah, New Mexico, Oregon and parts of Washington State make up an area known as "Aztlan" -- a fictional ancestral homeland of the Aztecs before Europeans arrived in North America. As such, it belongs to the followers of MEChA. These are all areas America should surrender to "La Raza" once enough immigrants, legal or illegal, enter to claim a majority, as in Los Angeles. The current borders of the United States will simply be extinguished.

This plan is what is referred to as the "Reconquista" or re-conquest, of the Western U.S.

But it won't end with territorial occupation and secession. The final plan for the La Raza movement includes the ethnic cleansing of Americans of European, African, and Asian descent out of "Aztlan."

As Miguel Perez of Cal State-Northridge's MEChA chapter has been quoted as saying: "The ultimate ideology is the liberation of Aztlan. Communism would be closest [to it]. Once Aztlan is established, ethnic cleansing would commence: Non-Chicanos would have to be expelled -- opposition groups would be quashed because you have to keep power."

Ethnic cleansing, espoused by one of the largest and most influential student groups supported by La Raza - the same La Raza that Bill Clinton and Karl Rove are dallying with. Lest you still think this is a "fringe" group, despite all the evidence to the contrary, you should know that they are implementing their plans, in the face of mainstream America's somnolent tolerance. For instance, Art Olivier is a Libertarian running for Governor in California, and recently reported the following:

"My campaign headquarters received a package in the mail today from an unknown sender, where the return address should be, was a sticker of the Mexican flag. Inside was a Mexican flag and three pages of propaganda. The first page said the whites will soon go back to Europe, the blacks must go back to Africa and scribbled on the bottom was 'and f*** Asians too. We will take our land back through RECONQUISTA!'

The next two pages are El Plan de Aztlan. It starts off 'be warned Gringos' and goes into how the La Raza de Bronze will drive out the exploiters and declares independence of their mestizo nation. Under their economy goals is 'Land and realty ownership will be acquired by the community for the people's welfare.'

This movement is without a doubt racist and communist. Is this the same La Raza that Bill Clinton & Karl Rove spoke at?"

-Art Olivier.

The Alamo Alliance was able to reproduce the exact documents for public viewing.

(Click on the thumbnails to view)

Cover Page: Whites and blacks are invaders. Whites must return to Europe, and blacks to Africa. F*** the Asians. Take back the land through Reconquista!

Page 1 of the Plan for Aztlan: Mission, organizational goals, declaration of independence for the mestizo nation, nationalism.

Page 2 of the Plan for Aztlan: Communization of public assets. Six point call to action. Call to arms in self-defense against the "exploiter" and to drive out the non-Chicanos.

And those rallies that were so popular this spring? Well, you probably didn’t see or hear about this. View a racist card that was popularly circulated among the participants at all the Latino rallies and protest:


Front


Back

On September 16th, the day of Mexican independence, La Raza de Bronze, and all its affiliates, plans to stage yet more Chicano walk-outs of all schools and universities, and hope to sustain it to force a complete revision of the educational system. Considering that their much-touted "Day Without Latinos" was a total bust, it's unlikely that they can sustain such an activity for any length of time - though we can hope.

Wake up, Americans. This problem is not losing momentum, nor going away. In fact, it is rapidly gaining in credence and legitimacy, thanks to the White House's apparent endorsement of their activities.

Does this pesky Reconquista problem only affect the Southwestern United States? No, of course not. Consider that the two largest engines driving the entire American economy are California and Texas. Consider further that there is an open empathy between Reconquistas and Islamists. Visit the Voice of Aztlan to see for yourself how they rejoice in American deaths at the hands of terrorists worldwide, since it furthers their own cause of re-conquest. You can bet that La Raza's seditious activities will impact your wallet at the very least, and your entire way of life. Stay awake.

___________________________________

This has been a production of the Guard the Borders Blogburst. It was started by Euphoric Reality, and serves to keep immigration issues in the forefront of our minds as we’re going about our daily lives and continuing to fight the war on terror. If you are concerned with the trend of illegal immigration facing our country, join our Blogburst! Just send an email with your blog name and url to euphoricrealitynet at gmail dot com.

FYI

"When I began writing about Oil-for-Food, almost four years ago, I knew next to nothing about the inner workings of the United Nations," writes Claudia Rosett. "I didn’t know the players. I had never been to a U.N. briefing. It was September, 2002, and the U.N. debate over removing Saddam Hussein had just turned hot. I was trying to understand the workings of the U.N.-sanctioned Iraqi economy, which seemed to consist of almost nothing but Oil-for-Food. I began making some phone calls to ask how the program actually worked."

Since then, Rosett has been reporting on the UN's Oil For Food scandal for numerous venues including National Review and Fox News, to name a just a few.

In addition to the news reports she's filing on the New York OFF trial of Tungson Park, she's also blogging it here.

I feel a cold coming on

Yesterday morning I was just coming out of the shower when the telephone started ringing. The sensible thing would have been to let the answering machine catch it but I never claimed to have much sense and since I was still on my first cup of coffee, had even less than normal.

A towel wrapped around me, my wet hair streaming I dribbled my way to the telephone.

Gravelly-voiced caller: Hey baby, watcha wearing ...

Me: I'm nekkid. Are you nekkid, baby?

No longer gravvely-voiced caller: Mother!

Da Kid was calling to let me know that he'd be home in 15 minutes and I'd better be dressed and ready to go. Go where? Out for breakfast.

It took a bit longer than 15 minutes for me to be ready to go. Not me, actually, but Starbuck hadn't been out yet and neither he nor the horses had been fed. Which was fine because Da Kid didn't actually get home until about an hour after he'd called. He would have been here much earlier, he claimed, but Herself (whom he'd picked up on the way) hadn't been ready.

Herself rolled her eyes.

Over breakfast as they talked about what they were going to do later since they were both off, Herself interrupted to invite me along. I begged off, or tried to. But no. Da Kid, rolling HIS eyes, told me I was going with them to see Pirates of the Carribean 2 (Dead Man's Chest).

It was all my fault, he explained, that he had to go. If I'd just gone with Herself to see "That Car Cartoon" he wouldn't have to be going to this one. I replied that that didn't make any sense. I didn't want to see "That Car Cartoon" movie and Herself was going to take her three-year-old niece to see it. Turned out the three-year-old didn't want to see it, either, and since Herself didn't have anyone to see it with, she didn't go.

By then my eyes were rolling. Maybe you can figure out the reasoning. I can't. But that's how I ended up going to see Pirates of the Carribean 2 (Dead Man's Chest) yesterday.

Except for Edward Scissorhands (I caught a little of it on, HBO I think, before I changed to another program.) I can't think of thing I've seen with Johnny Depp in it. I keep hearing how great an actor he is and funny in "One" and what a fantastic movie it was. My loss? Dunno. I hadn't seen "One."

It must have been a heck of a movie because when we got to the movie theater a little after 4 o'clock, the first available tickets were for a showing that started at 6. Herself bought the tickets, and we went out to eat.

Again.

Although we had 6 o'clock tickets, we were pushed back to a six-something showing because so many people with tickets were on line. Cops inside the theater trying to help the personnel keep orderly lines. My idea of fun and a fun place to be. Yep. Sure is.

So finally we sit down, drinks and popcorn ready. Perhaps it really was a second 6 o'clock showing. Danged if I know. With all the commercials and previews of coming attractions, the movie itself didn't start until 6:28.

I don't know how long we were in there, but this I can tell you with certainty. The light function on my digital-display watch works although several times I suspected the watch itself had stopped functioning.

SPOILER ALERT: Two people are about to get married except they get arrested by this diabolical fella with powdered curls, but the cute guy escapes promising his horney and extremely eager, virginally BUT spirited wife-to-be before he goes, that he'll be back to rescue her and then Captain Jack Sparrow (Johnny Depp) shows up (somewhere else) and starts prancing around mimicking the worst stereotype of a gay guy, to my mind, you'll probably ever see.

Other stuff happens.

The diabolical fella has nothing on the really bad guy, whose dead. But not really. (Well, actually he is but with the dripping tentacles covering his head and face, he kinda reminded me of myself only that morning when I ran out of the shower to grab the phone.)

Jack Sparrow almost becomes a fruit ka-bab but at the last moment, manages to scamper away from the cannibals.

More stuff happens, danged if I knew what or why nor did or do I care.

How to put this delicately . . . um, my bladder isn't as youthful as it used to be.

With the Green Mile, another very long movie, I completely forgot about any . . . um, any need. There was none.

But with Pirates of the Carribean 2 (Dead Man's Chest), I held on a long as I could. And when I got back to my seat, only a minute or two was left before the credits began rolling.

The good news was that the movie was finally over. (YES!) The bad news is, as Da Kid told me as we were leaving, like Matrix II this movie leaves you hanging. The "story" won't be concluded until Pirate 3 is released . . . next year.

When it is I'm hoping I'll have something else already scheduled.

If I don't, I'll think of something.

Remembering

When Birds Attack

This is the tree.

This is the nest that's in the tree.

This is the swooping, screaming bird that's guarding the nest that's in the tree.

This is the cringing dog that's peeing behind another tree, desperately trying to hide from the swooping, screaming bird that's guarding the nest that's in the tree.

This is the bird in the branches over the head of the cringing dog that's peeing behind another tree, desperately trying to hide from the swooping, screaming bird that's guarding the nest that's in the tree.

--------
I think it's the same bird as last time. If not, its tactics are the same, producing the same results.

LATER: Carnivalized at this week's Carnival of the Dogs.

Guard the Borders Blogburst

By Heidi at Euphoric Reality

Last year, I experienced a Fourth of July that I never want to repeat. I wrote about it, but at the time, I don't think my experience registered on anyone's radar. Here's part of the description as I posted it last year:

...all day, I was looking forward to the famous Freedom Over Texas Celebration in Houston - one of the top 10 patriotic shows and fireworks displays in the country. I was determined to brave the crowds (which my husband and I typically loathe) with kiddos in tow, in order to enjoy the culminating holiday of our nation’s heritage. We drove an hour to downtown Houston, spent 20 minutes looking for parking, and finally stepped into the crowds to move toward the center of the Celebration.

Here is what I saw as I crossed Allen Parkway near Buffalo Bayou:

There were NO 4th of July decorations - NONE. No red, white, and blue - anywhere.

There were no American flags.

No one was dressed in red, white, and blue except me and my kids.

There were no patriotic songs.

There was no indication of patriotic pride or nationalism in any way…

No one - not one person around us - spoke English.

The music that was blasting through the loudspeakers was Mexican mariachi or some such.

Home made pig skins were sold in baggies - and screeching kids in dirty clothes were hawking water bottles out of grubby coolers.

I saw more green Mexican flags and paraphernalia than anything American-themed.

What is this - Houston, Mexico?! Had I mistakenly ended up in some grungy street carnival in Little Mexico, instead of one of the “Top 10 Patriotic Celebrations in the Country”?! I knew that there was supposed to be military equipment displays somewhere in the center (which I was making a bee-line for), along with stages for Clint Black and LeAnn Rimes. I’m not a country-western aficionado, but I knew that I could most likely expect a moving patriotic song or two. As the crowds surged toward the Freedom Celebration, my family and I lagged more and more behind. Hot, sweaty, and rudely jostled in the rowdy crowd - I grew more and more angry. Looking around, I realized that no one seemed to be there to celebrate the 4th of July. It seemed like any generic public fiesta - just one more reason to party. I stopped walking and finally acknowledged the fact that whatever ‘celebracion’ was going on around us had nothing to do with America. I was far beyond disappointed…I was furious.

We left.

I took a lot of heat in the comments from people who objected to the fact that I objected to a Mexican-themed Fourth of July. But others wrote in comments and via email that they had seen and experienced a similar hi-jacking of our national holiday; they seemed more bewildered than furious. "How did this happen? When did this happen?!" There was no real public indignation.

Fast forward to 2006. This year, the in-your-face waving of the Mexican flag will have much more significance considering the politically-charged events of the past year. In a year that has seen illegal aliens gleefully desecrate Old Glory, and raise the Mexican flag over our own, such an offensive display is guaranteed to raise the ire of red-blooded Americans. After a year's worth of heavy-handed demands for the rights and privileges of full citizenship, illegal aliens and AINOs (Americans In Name Only) may feel emboldened to wave the Mexican flag during our Independence Day celebrations - just as they did last year with no public outcry.

I, for one, won't leave a 4th of July celebration like I did last year - furious but silent. I will say something to anyone who flaunts a foreign flag during our Independence Day. I want them to know it's inappropriate, deliberately incendiary, and offensive to people who deeply love this country and our valiant flag. This year, I have a feeling I won't be standing alone.

DON'T LET THIS HAPPEN IN YOUR TOWN!

_________________________________

This has been a production of the Guard the Borders Blogburst. It was started by Euphoric Reality, and serves to keep immigration issues in the forefront of our minds as we're going about our daily lives and continuing to fight the War on Terror. If you are concerned with the trend of illegal immigration facing our country, join our Blogburst! Just send an email with your blog name and url to euphoricrealitynet at gmail dot com.

STS - 121 Discovery

May God speed you safely home.

I Am Mom

"Mom, please call me at the station."

The first time I got an email from Da Kid saying that I knew something was wrong. Bad wrong.

I've since learned Da Kid's cell phone doesn't work at his regular station. A dead spot or something. He can't call here on the station's telephone phone ‘cause it's a long distance charge, so when he needs to speak to me he sends an email for me to call him.

He doesn't do it often and while it may be important, it's not critically so. Mom punches the number accurately, now, because she's not shaking.

On the way in this morning Da Kid had spotted a sign almost across the street, stopped and bought 12 ears of just-picked Silver Queen Corn. Once he got into the station he remembered he wouldn't be home until Wednesday, and didn't know if it would still be any good.

This wouldn't qualify to some as even important, I know, but to him it was. He may be a 6'4" firefighter who first lifted me off the floor when he was twelve, and he now walks into burning buildings and gloms through car wrecks . . . but I'm still his mother. I'm Mom.

It would be fine, I assured him, and reminded him that Sis (Herself's older sister) has been looking for some. If the corn looked good, I suggested, when he headed home on Wednesday he might think about picking up some for her.

Da Kid has helped me shuck corn for years, but it turns out he never paid attention to whether it was any good. He just helped me pull off the husks and then went on his way. So, he didn't know if what he'd bought was or wasn't. He hadn't even pulled a husk back to look.

When he did while we were talking it was apparent he didn't know how to describe what he was looking at. And he didn't have any more money with him because before he left this morning he forgot to put any in his wallet. And . . .

I packed up and headed to the station where he said he'd fix me lunch (a Boston Market frozen meal) and if the corn looked good, we'd get more and spend the afternoon together shucking corn and getting it ready for the freezer.

More turned out to be around a bushel. There were a couple of "turkeys" — including the ear Da Kid was trying to describe to me over the telephone — but the rest was spectacular.

Some of it's now in the station's freezer, with instructions I'd written on a piece of paper before I left the house on how to microwave rather than boil it (It's so much better that way.) tacked to their refrigerator door.

I dropped half of the remaining, filled freezer bags off at Herself's family's house on the way home, the rest is in mine.

A box of gallon-sized freezer bags . . . $3

A bushel of Silver Queen Corn . . . $12

An afternoon spent with your son as he realizes how much work it is to get a bushel of corn on the cob ready for the freezer and that you've been doing it for years and now understands why you do it and why that way and how much faster it goes when two people are doing it together but now knows how to do it himself and did most of the work himself as you told him what to do and as you're leaving he gives you a hug and says, "Thanks Mom." . . . Priceless

Geeky Goodness

Bill Quick points to Zillow.com - Your Edge in Real Estate which he describes as "a handy little tool for obtaining a rough approximation of what you might be able to sell your home for."

He goes on to explain how he tweeked it to get a more accurate estimate, but me? I spent a good part of the afternoon just plunking in addresses. The house the Deadly Duo have a contract on, of course, and playing putting in the address of just about every darned place I've ever lived.

Without any tweeking, Zillow's median estimate on their "maybe house" was within $10K of the sale price. Cool!

When I called up the address of the house I was raised in I almost croaked. Dear gawd!

But I spent far more time looking at the pictures of the houses, zooming in and out getting the best angle. Yes, angle.

I gotta tell you, I've got a sneaky suspicion someone using this function might be very embarrassed if they checked their home and discovered when the aerial shots were taken they were . . . uh, like . . . ummmm . . . for all the world to see.

WOOF!

Jeff from Athenamama has this week's Carnival of the Dogs up at Mickey's Musings. He'll be taking care of the Carnival until . . . well, let's let Mickey (Annmarie) tell the story:

When Herbie originally proposed to me, almost 30 years ago, I said yes and I asked him to "Take me home" which was to Maine, but, he wasn't able to then, he needed to go back out on a fishing trip (commercial fisherman). In the following three weeks, I got cold feet. This wasn't the age of cells phones, there wasn't any way to speak to him or give him the chance to offer any reassurances, so off I went....one of the first runaway brides! LOL! We have both had our ups and downs over the years, each of us ending up in a less than ideal marriage.

Thirty years later and strictly by chance, Herbie and Annmarie again crossed paths.

This time he didn't go fishing, and she didn't get cold feet.

Their wedding is today.