Tag: teaching

How Weird Is That?

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I woke up very early this morning and couldn’t go back to sleep. What woke me was a dream I was having. I was teaching a class of first year college students (do they still call them freshmen?) and we were discussing who the real protagonist in Romeo and Juliet was. I had a list on the board, The fathers, the prince, Romeo, etc., ending with the Friar. After a minute everyone got a wrong answer so I told them it was the Friar and launched into a dissection of the history of England, the anti-Catholic sentiment of the age and how Shakespeare used his plays to promote the propaganda of first the Queen and then the King of England against the Catholic church. I won’t go into the entire lesson, it is one that I taught several times during my teaching days.
 
One way I kept younger kids, meaning teenagers, awake was to compare the feud between the families to modern day gang wars and how the warring factions of the government today were much like the war between the King of England who was also the head of the Church of England and the Catholic Church in other countries and the Catholic Kings. The kids ate it up with a spoon.
 
After waking up, I lay in bed contemplating Romeo and Juliet and other Shakespeare plays where the bias was blatant if one knew the history of the era in which it was written. Personally, I like the comedies best because he used outright parody of the pomposity of the gentry versus the vitality of the commoners to poke fun at everyone from royalty to the servants, merchants, and country bumpkins. He walked a close line between mocking and sneering and lecturing against the unpopular ideals of the King and his Lords.
 
What I find interesting is that after all this time, I remember all the details of the lesson, history, and play and could stand up in front of a classroom and give it again with a few peeks at the play to get my quotes right. How weird is that? No really, I wonder how weird it is.
 
Anyway, now I have Shakespeare on my mind. And I really, really miss teaching.

A Short Holiday

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We went on a brief holiday over the past four days. The more I am around people, the less I like them. Maybe it is because I am old, and I was raised with manners, expectations of certain social behaviors when in public, and on threat of perpetual grounding, expected the same from my children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren. Things I witnessed this past week makes me wonder about the safety, sanity, and abilities of future generations.

Story One:

We were in the resort restaurant for the dinner buffet. The place was packed, as they usually are. After getting our Addie settled with her meal, I wandered off to check out the grown up menu. A woman pushed past me, and as she did I noticed she was wearing a bikini top and a pair of pajama bottoms with a pair of mukluk boots. Now, granted, we were at a place where the main attractions were the pools and slides, but at first glance she looked like she had jumped out of bed in her bra and pajamas to grab a meal. First of all, she was everything I hate in people. Loud, pushy, obnoxious, and demanding. Secondly, she was downright tacky. It is one thing to grab a snack in your swimsuit at the snack bar, but it is far different to turn up to dinner dressed like that. And don’t get me started on just how tacky it is for a grown woman to be running around in public in pajamas. How hard is it to throw on a pair of trousers or jeans, descent shoes and a top? I don’t even care if you need a bra and don’t wear one, but really, put some damned clothes on.

Story Two:

Same restaurant second day there. We were at the Breakfast buffet. (It’s cheaper and there are more choices.) I get in line behind a family of a mom with her two boys of about seven and nine. She is on her phone. The older boy grabs a plate and starts filling it with eggs. Four large serving spoons of scrambled eggs. Mom says nothing. He hits the bacon next. He scooped up no less than twelve pieces of bacon. Mom says, “Honey let me have some of that bacon.” She takes one piece off his plate. He dives back in and puts four or five more pieces on his plate and heads for the hash browns. By now the first plate is full. He gets a second plate, mind you he can come back for more. He fills the second plate with hash brown potatoes and covers them with gravy. Then hands the plates to his Mom, who takes them, and he heads to the cereal dispenser. He fills a bowl with Fruit Loops and milk and heads back to the table, where the server is setting down his hot chocolate and orange juice. Their table is right across from ours. Because I had never seen a skinny kid that age eat so much, I wanted to see what he would do. His mom nibbled her bacon and sipped on her coffee while she stayed on the phone. The boy ate a few bites of cereal, had a few sips of hot chocolate, and didn’t touch anything else. His mother never noticed. They got up and left and she was still on the phone. Someone needs a lesson on wasting food and greed. Oh, and on parenting.

Story Three:

We decided to take a drive up into the mountains to see the National Park. We went to a very cool place that has a drive through living history thing. That takes everyone to see the old settlement in the valley. It is about eleven miles round trip and there are loads of places to stop and take photos and go into the old buildings. We ended up behind a car with a family of five. Two parents, three kids. Like everyone, they had their windows down. Two of the kids, one on each side, were sitting on the window sill of the doors, hanging outside the car, leaning back as far as they could go. Granted, the speed limit was about ten miles an hour, but there were a lot of sudden stops as people would decide to leave the road and park to take photos etc. We followed them for about two miles, and ever single minute, I expected one or both of those kids to fall out of the car. I kept falling back as far as I could, terrified I would run one of them over after they hit the ground. Finally, they stopped and we got past them. About half a hour later they turned up at the ranger station. Someone called out to the woman in the car and asked her why she was allowing her kids to do something so dangerous. Her response had a lot of F words in it, and basically said it was no one’s business what she let her kids do. The first woman said it would be everyone’s business if one of those kids got hurt. More than a few folks agreed. The woman was on her phone and smoking her cigarette, the kids were running wild, trying to climb on everything they weren’t supposed to climb on, and she basically told everyone to go do something anatomically impossible. The dad never got out of the car or engaged with anyone. The rangers made the kids leave the exhibit after the two girls started fighting over stuff. Unbelievable.

Story Three:

Back at the restaurant the next day at lunch. Vastly busy. We were seated next to a table full of pre-teen boys between ten and twelve. There wasn’t a single parent near them. The tables were next to windows that looked out over the wave pool and water slides. Two of the boys turned around and were kneeling in their chairs backward. Then they started rocking them back on the legs and banging the backs of the chairs on the windows. I asked the wait staff if that was a good idea, the guy shrugged and said, “The windows are supposed to be break proof.” At my surprised look he said, “They’re being kids.” Then walked off. I called him back and asked to see a manager. I explained that all glass has a breaking point, all it takes is for the right amount of pressure to be applied at the right point. Even if it is shatter proof, it will crack, and sometimes it will fall from its frame causing the window to come crashing down and the kids could fall out of the window. She said she understood, but that they were not allowed to correct other people’s kids. So my husband got up and went over to the boys and said, “You know, banging into the windows might not be a good idea. If they break and you fall two stories to the walkway below, you could hurt yourselves. That would make the rest of your vacation suck.” They stopped, turned around and finished their meal and left. How hard was that? If you don’t say anything, kids will just keep on doing what they do until someone gets hurt. Especially boys that age who still haven’t learned to fear getting hurt.

Story Four:

Parents and phones. If you are going to spend upwards of three hundred dollars a day for a family to go on a holiday, why are you on your phone? It is supposed to be a FAMILY adventure. We saw kids from the age of three up doing their best to get their parents attention. The parents never put their damned phones down for a second. Two little girls about Addie’s age, somewhere between four and six were playing in the water right in front of their mommy. They were thrilled to get up the courage to go into the water up to their knees. They were having a great time, squealing and jumping around. “Mommy look! Mommy watch me! Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!!!” She had a phone in her hand, face buried in it. Not once did she look up, take a photo, or interact with them. It was no wonder that in minutes they were whining and crying. All they wanted was five seconds of Mommy’s time. That enraged me. Those poor kids. And it was like that everywhere we went at the resort. Parents on their phones, at the pool bar, ignoring their kids. Why the hell bother to take them anywhere if you aren’t going to enjoy time with them? I never took my phone out of the room while we were there. Neither did my husband. And Addie got every bit of attention she deserved.

Story Five:

I was waiting for the elevator to go to our room. Waiting with me was a mother and three teenage girls. The girls were surly and snarly. All of them complaining of different things. One in particular that I pegged around the age of fourteen was really snarky. The elevator comes and the doors open. Instead of allow the people on it to get off first, the mother and all three girls shoved their way on. The other family with four little children almost ended up with one child left behind. I got on just as the doors closed. The hateful girl sighed and rolled her eyes at me. When I asked if she could press the floor button for me since she was standing in front of the controls, she moved and snarled, “What am I, your slave?” I looked at her mother, she had her face buried in her phone. I pushed the button for my floor, then the brat stood back in front of the control panel and pushed down on her floor button. Her sister asked what she was doing and she said, “I don’t want to have to wait for anyone else to get on. Its and old fireman trick.” I said, “I don’t think that works on these new elevators, most of them require a key to make them stop working.” At that time we stopped. The people waiting were going down so didn’t get on. I didn’t say anything. We got to my floor. The girls piled off, I waited for the mother. She was still on her phone so I got off. I heard her say something, but didn’t understand her. I asked her what she said. She told me I was rude for not letting her get off with her daughters. I pointed out that the doors were getting ready to close so I kept them open so I could get off. She gave me a nasty look. So I said, “While your learning some manners of your own, why not teach some to your daughters as well. You aren’t the only people who are paying to stay here and we have just as much of a right to use the elevators as you and your daughters. If you don’t like people sharing the elevator, take the stairs.” I got the expected F word response. It wasn’t worth my time to deal with her idiocy. I figured she would get her karma response in dealing with those hateful girls of hers.

Story Six:

We had a great time. Addie loved everything from the swimming and wave pools and slides, to painting ceramics with me, and doing sand art with her Papa. She loved the ranger station where they helped her learn the life cycle of moths and butterflies, and she got a Junior Ranger Award for answering all the questions correctly afterwards. She got to have Old Time photographs with fancy costumes along with her Papa, and she ate at a real diner for the first time. We all stayed up too late, ate too much, and wore ourselves to a frazzle. It was too bad so many other kids weren’t having fun with their parents or grandparents, and so many parents were acting annoyed to be there. Addie was in her element as the center of our attention, and the one melt down she had was quickly under control because a time out sitting in the middle of Nana’s bed with nothing to do is no fun. Next holiday, I think we need to go somewhere that has a lot fewer people and a lot more nature.

I Am Take A Side

Posted on Posted in Children, Choices, conversation, Family, Friendship, Habits, loss, Parenting, Politics, WomenTagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

I find it deeply disturbing that everyone wants to start screaming hatred at each other when discussing this horrific act of violence against innocent human beings. It becomes political from the moment it happens, and it just keeps getting more and more vicious as everyone takes a side.
Well, I am taking a side.
I am taking the side of the parents who will bury a child, be it one of the students, or their son or daughter who was a teacher.
I am taking the side of the community that will now bury 17 of their neighbors.
I am taking the side of the first responders, police officers, and adults who had to face the horror inside the school in the aftermath of the shootings, who will face the nightmares that will come from those hours.
I am taking the side of the students who lost friends, and who will have to go back to school and remember the fear.
I am taking the side of the mothers who will mourn for the rest of their lives.
I am taking the side of the fathers who will forever feel as if they didn’t protect their lost child.
I am taking the side of the victims, each one whose life was cut off without warning, though no fault of their own.
I am taking a side that condemns the media, pundits, and hate filled rhetoric of the people who think their opinion about guns is more important that taking time to pray for, with, and about the deep sorrow of the families of those who died.
I am taking a side. It isn’t about us, it is about them. I hope you will join me.

Every Day Heroes

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A friend told me about an accident she and her husband came upon the other day. A car was on fire, and someone was trying to get out. Her husband jumped out of their vehicle and ran to help him get out, stayed with him until medical people arrived to fly the injured driver out to a hospital. Her husband was banged up a bit, but fine. Everyone was commenting on how much of a hero he was for helping and putting himself at risk. She demurred. I wrote in her comment section the following.

“Heroes are every day people who do extraordinary things without worrying about the consequences.”

I thought on that later, and I have come to the decision that all of us are everyday heroes during our lives. Often we don’t think of our actions as heroic or special. We simply react to what is happening in the best way we can. Sometimes it is helping someone survive a horrific accident. Sometimes it is taking soup to a sick friend. Sometimes it is a listening ear, and sometimes a swift kick in the attitude of someone having a pity party.

Saving a life is a big deal. It is a lot of responsibility and takes someone with inner strength of steel and granite to do what has to be done. Pulling someone out of burning building, out of the twin towers; running into the line of fire to rescue someone, standing up to the local bully to protect someone; leaving the abusive spouse, male or female, and taking the children with you; moving back home to take care of aging parents and giving up your plans to raise a child you didn’t expect to raise. All of those are heroic things. It takes guts, selflessness, and a willingness to deal with unforeseen consequences due to your actions to fulfill the title of hero.

Some people have jobs that are more like callings which are intrinsically heroic. Fire fighters, Law enforcement, Military men and women, Emergency Medical Personnel, are all in highly dangerous occupations. People are willing to accept those dangers. They train and work hard to gain the skills to do their jobs to the highest degree of proficiency. They are heroic in going out into the harsh world and fulfilling their duty.

Some people are heroes for taking on responsibility that they didn’t sign up for in their lives. They don’t run into burning buildings or chase down criminals, nor do they go out and put an end to evil regimes that threaten their countries and ours. These are the average moms and dads who sacrifice career advancements, educational opportunities, and being upwardly mobile so that one of them can stay home and raise their children. These are the single moms and dads, who, for whatever reason, are raising their children without benefit of a spouse. These are the single parents who are working, going to school full time, and being a mom or dad too. They could easily drop the kids into the system, hand them off to grandparents or other family members, but choose to be the mom and dad, provider, and give up personal time to be the best parent they can be.

There are heroes who teach, guide, lead, discover, and reach out to students who are on the verge of becoming another statistic to the poverty, gangs, and violence of their cultural world. Older men and women who set out to be an example to younger men and women, becoming a mentor and someone who believes in a young man or woman who has never had an advocate for their potential. And some heroes who coach and shape young people into strong, independent, thinking adults become the silent hero in the lives of the lonely, lost, and ignored. Most of them never know they made a difference just by their example.

And there are the every day people who reach out to everyone around them with friendship. Sometimes all it takes is just one person to change the life of another in a positive way after the slings and arrows of life has beaten them down. To the one they helped, they are doing something extraordinary. They cared enough to encourage someone on the abyss to keep going, not to give up, and ask for nothing in return. Sometimes all it takes is one person, just one, to change the trajectory of the world for another lost or grieving soul. Who is your hero?

Every day people, doing extraordinary things . . . think about it.

The Meaning of Words

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A great man once said, “Abuse of words has been the great instrument of sophistry and chicanery, of party, faction, and division of society.” John Adam

Millions of words pour across our various screens on a daily basis. Those spouting those words want to use them to make a point, twist a narrative, further an agenda, plan a plot, confuse, obfuscate, and force their ideas on the gullible, bored, uneducated, fearful, and unsuspecting people who are easily led, fed, and incapable of forming an opinion with out the say so of the media and/or organizations they depend on to do their thinking for them. After all, they are a product of their sum schooling for the past thirty years, and unless they had parents and leaders who taught them to think and make decisions for themselves, they are indoctrinated in group think.

The only meaning words have for them are what their cadre of group think controllers tell them, regardless of the traditional and long accepted definition stated in hundreds of dictionaries and documents world wide. And, because they have never been allowed to, in anyway, to take a different stand and learn to think outside group think, they simply don’t bother to learn the real meaning of the words that flood their screens.

Within my generation, many words have been forced into a new meaning, sometimes representing exactly the opposite of the original root definition. Most are found in the youthful desperation to use slang that only represents their generation. However, the word “bad” no matter how much they might have wanted it, does not mean ‘good.’ Likewise, the word ‘sick’ does not denote in any historical or linguistic manner, something that is outstanding or amazing. But beyond the childish inversion of words to create new slang, group think is demanding we all change the meaning of words and thoughts to only meet the group think criteria. It is demanded that we all fall in lock step with their agenda, and spout their linguistic liturgy propaganda. Then we are to go out and force it on the rest of the world.

In the Declaration of Independence, one of the most highly canonized ideals of the development of a free state, Thomas Jefferson wrote, “We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.” Let us deconstruct the original meaning behind that statement and compare it to the group think of today’s propagandists.

“We hold these truths to be self-evident…” “We hold”, meaning the people of the young country that wants to be independent of the tyrants of the British Empire. We, Us, The People. However, group think propagandists would have you believe the word, “we” means only the rich white men who were representing their particular group of planters and industrialists. The pronoun “we,” used plurally, refers to multiple people in the traditional meaning. Today, it is used to delineate between groups, turning the use of the word “we” into a them and us definition. The group think agenda has tried to twist the definition into a negative connotation. “Hold” is the verb that tells what ‘we’ is doing. We hold, meaning in this instance, we believe. “We,” know, that the following statement is correct. We, the people, believe this to be true. That was the original meaning, today, the entire verb phrase is dismissed as unimportant. Because one is not allowed to believe on their own, they must obfuscate every meaning in the name of group think.

“…truths to be self-evident,:… Truth, a simple, straightforward word that historically means being honest, saying what is verifiable, without exception, in accordance with fact and reality. A simple concept, that is now, completely without meaning. Truth is what each group think agenda wants it to be. It is no longer based of verifiable facts and reality, it is, instead based on an emotional behavior that is acceptable within the propaganda of the group think manifesto. It is one of the first dynamic words to actually become meaningless within my generation. No longer is stating something as truthful based on facts and realism something people can depend on to remain static. It is fluid to the point of meaningless evaporation. There is no truth, according to most group think propaganda, accept what we tell you is truth. Anything other than what we tell you is a lie, a misspoken, or a misunderstood definition of our version of the truth. Truth is now fluid, ever changing, non static words based on emotion and utterly controlled by the agenda masters.

“…to be self-evident:…” Self-evident. Meaning, in the time honored definition of the word, it is an adverb that means evidence without exterior proof because it is something that is traditionally known, or the facts presented before one is clear in its meaning. It is evident to one and all, the adverb that answers to the noun “truth,” the plural pronoun, “we,” and the verb, “hold.” We, each of us, believe, understand, accept, promote, the truth of this statement, to be obvious in its meaning. It is clearly stated and the definition as transparent as window glass. However, today’s opaque use of words muddies the meaning as much as possible. Because, after all, no one should ever use the word “self” to describe understanding. There is no “self” when it comes to propagandizing language. There is no clarity of definition because if there were, people would begin to question the status quo and standards of the group. That would be a disaster for those who employ the machine to mold minds into fearful followers of the ending of independent thought. There is no self in modern thinking patterns.

“…that all men are created equal…” Now there is a conundrum. “All Men…” How dare they not mention women as equals to men. According to the propagandists, this statement proves that the authors, of the Declaration of Independence, were obvious misogynists who dismissed women as unimportant and useless. Of course, the traditional use of the phrase refers to mankind. Men, women, children, all mankind. That is not good enough for the groups who want to be offended and angry that women are not given a particular specialness within the confines of the statement. Now the use of the word, “men,” a common plural noun for the singular noun, “man,” is an insult to womankind. Because, according to the modern group mind, all men, every last one of them, must be a groveling apologist for their sex – at fault every thing that has gone wrong in the development of mankind, and are required to scramble away with heads bowed in submission when any female is present. If they don’t they are criminal or evil. Unless, of course, they are fulfilling part of the group think violent agenda. There is no longer “all men” because the divisiveness of group think and mind control propaganda machine whole heartedly believes in divide and conquer methods to maintain power over those under their hidden agenda.

“…that they are endowed by their Creator…” Another slippery slope of word use. The use of this phrase, in its original format, infers that mankind is a creation of not only biological means, but is also a creation of a higher being, a Christian based religious belief in an almighty God. Conventional beliefs of many who founded the country of America were based in Christianity. Unlike now, it was an intrinsic part of their lifestyle and belief system. So, regardless of how one is biologically created, we were all spiritually created by God. It was, literally, the reason many of the earliest Europeans came to the Americas. Here they could worship as they desire, without interference from governmental powers.

Today, however, anyone who still believes in customary Christian traditions, is ridiculed and demeaned by the rudderless, angry people who feel judged by those with a deeply held belief system outside of group think. While they will deny it, they are as deeply entrenched in a belief system as any religious group, only their belief is based on unending perceived persecution by those who hold different things sacred. Group think is designed to promote discontent and inequality. By promoting inequality as a sinful, predetermined behavior by religious people, the group think propaganda continually maintains a fearful under current of misunderstanding and hatred. Since, at one point in time, some people did not undertake their mind control agenda, then all who believe in God are naturally trying to enslave or deny equality to everyone else. An absolute misdirection of epic proportions is achieved by reversing the meaning of the phrase, “created equal,” and labels all who understand and believe in the originators meaning of the phrase as racist, homophobic, anti everything the group think propaganda promotes. One again, filtering truth through emotionally charged propaganda creates a false narrative of rage, fear, and destruction of the original meaning of the phrase.

“…with certain unalienable rights…” Unalienable rights, what an interesting choice of words. These rights are nontransferable from one person to another. It is a right each individual has, something that is certainly incompatible with group think. Individualism is discouraged in mind controlled group think. The authors of the Declaration of Independence, however, saw the rights of the individual over the rights of the government as the very cornerstone of freedom of thought and action. Certain rights belong to everyone. Rights that are part of thinking for one’s self, for making decisions for one’s self,

and for believing for one’s self. No one can take that right from anyone else, but in today’s society one freely gives up that independence to slavishly follow group think so they might be part of a whole, instead of wholly their own person. Many modern arm chair judges of history point to slavery as the denial of those rights. Perhaps, however, the traditional use of slavery was ended by the American people over a hundred years ago, and it was limited to begin with in America. Today, however, people are enslaved by a systematic denial of individualism through social, governmental, and propaganda of the group think status quo. We must do as we are told or face rejection by peers, incarceration by the government control and programs, or bombardment from the fearful group think organizations for being independent thinkers. Our rights are in more danger today than they ever were under original slavers. After generations fighting for freedom for all people in our country, those radicals who have nothing better to do than spew hatred would bring back segregation and racial divisiveness to our country. Once again, the meaning of words, originally written to decry oppression, are being defined as oppressive in modern propaganda.

“…among these are life…” We have a right to life. Once, it meant everyone had a right to life. We had a right to grow, learn, work, become strong, and live a long life. Everyone, man, woman, and child, had a right to live. It is a phrase that could not be more transparent in meaning. Yes, lives were taken that should not have been taken though violence, through anger. But those lives were still allowed until they lost that right by committing horrors against other human beings. Today, however, this phrase is denied by group think. If a child is created, and one of the creators of that life doesn’t want it, it is allowed to be thrown away, destroyed, torn asunder for the pure selfish desire of the creators of that life. We no longer have a right to live if we do not bow to the group think of what is acceptable thought and behavior according to their purpose. There is no rights except their rights. We are not allowed to be different, and if we are, we are automatically the enemy. There is no right to life. Not now.

.”..liberty…” Liberty, a noun that means, according to Dictionary.com, “freedom from control, interference, obligation, restriction, hampering conditions, etc.; power or right of doing, thinking, speaking, etc., according to choice. It is manifest in the Declaration of Independence that the authors were indeed and in spirit writing to these meanings of the word liberty. It was a fine, strong stance that the independent minded young American nation took against tyranny. It is something that the United States has fought for since the Revolutionary War. It is something that made this country a beacon of hope for those downtrodden and defenseless peoples of other countries. It was something that made them leave all behind and make the often perilous journey from their traditional homeland to America. Liberty, freedom from control, independence from tyranny were the burning desires of thousands who came to America. They wanted this freedom for their posterity, they wanted to become Americans in every sense of the word. It was with pride that they presented their children with the hope of liberty. Today, however, the meaning of liberty has become as undermined as the meaning of truth. While liberty means freedom, it also means responsibility within the laws of the land. We are free to bear arms, but we are not free to arbitrarily murder people. We are free to say what we think, but we are not free to slander with lies or misinformation. We are free to live as we want, but we are not free to force others to do so as slaves, cults, or through intimidation. We have freedom to move where we might, but we do not have freedom to take over a property that does not belong to us. We are free to drive, but we are not free to steal a car. With liberty, comes great responsibility. Responsibility that many fear because that means they will have to make decisions for themselves. It is much easier to simply let others think for them and tell them how to live, and exactly what freedoms they can indulge in without consequences. As a group think organization, they can go en-mass and destroy property, hurt others, deny freedom to those who believe differently without consequence. Freedom means destroying anything and anyone one disagrees with, at any time, with what the group think organization says they can. Liberty has become the inverse of what the originators of the Declaration of Independence meant when they wrote it. Yet, every last group think perpetrator of violence screams that it is his or her right to do so because they pursue liberty for pseudo tyranny.

“…pursuit of happiness,,,,” Pursuit, a noun, meaning to quest for something in an effort to attain a particular thing. It isn’t a guarantee of happiness, it is the opportunity to search for happiness. And happiness is a state of contentment, joy, pleasure, or satisfaction in life. Again, the authors of the document in question used clear language to describe the end results of a quest for life and liberty. Happiness. There is no guarantee that everyone will find what ever means happiness to them. But, they are free to search for it, free to find it, and free to enjoy it, as long as it doesn’t preempt another from happiness in their lives. It seems very clear to most people. But, in modern group think, one does not pursue happiness, they believe they should be guaranteed it without the cost and effort of pursuing their version of happiness. It must be delivered to them, free of charge, without end, upon demand. If they are not happy, then it is up to everyone else to see that they are. Like a petulant child with a new toy, if it isn’t exactly what he or she wants, it is tossed away with disdain and the unending caterwauling for happiness continues until they obtain the next toy. The word pursuit in the phrase is thrown to the wayside with impunity. Happiness is a right, not the pursuit of said happiness, according to the modern interpretation of this phrase in the Declaration of Independence.

Denis Waitley once stated, “It is not in the pursuit of happiness that we find fulfillment, it is in the happiness of pursuit.” If we gain something without earning it, it is meaningless. Something that we strive for, something we sacrifice for, something we gain by perseverance means more than anything simply handed to us by the powers that be. Pursuing that which we most desire, be it education, knowledge, freedom, independence, and yes, happiness can only be done if we are free from control by those who would own our thoughts, actions, and ability. Either we learn to use words clearly and with courage, meaning exactly what we say, or we become no more than a pawn in the act, as John Adams said, “of sophistry and chicanery, of party, faction, and division of society.”

Destroy From Within

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It seems that the deepest wish of the left leaning politicos is to tear down and destroy all evidence of the Confederate States that removed themselves from the Union over a hundred years ago. All statues that honor or recall the war of Northern Aggression, as the people of the south called it, are to be erased. They are to be torn down and destroyed in a fit of anger by those who have never been slaves, and who are doing their best to undo fifty plus years of steps to total race equality in the United States.

Why stop at pulling down statues. Let’s go whole hog and tear down all things that represent the south, and their former use of slaves. Let us start with the history of slavery, and the fact that the first person to own a slave in the Americas was none other than a black man, and let us not forget the indentured servants who came to the Americas to be enslaved for the duration of their indenture, and in many cases, until their deaths. We must erase all of that. Justice demands it. At least it does according to the leftists.

While we are at it, lets destroy all monuments on the battle fields, both north and south, so that no one has to know our horrid past and we can white wash (no pun intended) the whole issue of slavery and the Civil War. In fact, lets just do away with all the historic battlefields and turn them into condos and golf courses, because they aren’t important. We can build section eight housing for all. Covering the graves of the fallen. No one cares anyway. Why not?

We might as well go right on ahead and tear down all memorials and monuments to every Revolutionary War hero too. Destroy the Liberty Bell, burn the Constitution and Bill of Rights, and don’t forget to shred the Federalist Papers too. Deny the Founding Fathers, remove every mention of them from our history. How dare they have the gumption to form a country based on freedom. Be sure and tear down every museum, and burn all the history books. We can’t have anyone believe the truth of our foundation, we don’t have the right to have a history that isn’t in line with the leftist propaganda machine.

Of course, that means there is no reason for the Civil Rights heroes either. Rosa Parks, nah, totally unimportant because slaves freed themselves and there were no victims of inequality. Martin Luther King Jr., just another loud mouth preacher, no one cares what he had to say. He isn’t important in the history of the country. He can’t be if the past is denied and revisionist history is the shining star. Douglas Frederick and Harriet Tubman, totally unimportant in saving lives, after all, if we deny the Civil War, deny the Southern involvement, destroy all monuments and buildings dedicated to those who served in the Confederate, none of the heroes are important or relevant.

While we are at it, we must also deny all the changes for gender equality, because without the fight for Civil Rights, the entire issue of gender equality would never have got off the ground. It would be a non sequitur in the history of time. Women would still be second class citizens and the rainbow alphabet people would still be in the closet. But, the leftists simply do not accept that. No monuments to the likes of Harvey Milk and others allowed. Revisionist history will wipe away all of that.

Let’s not stop there, go on and completely revise history while we are at it. Tear down all memorials to any war. Every statue, every monument must go. WWI. WWII, Korea, Viet Nam memorials all must go. The monument to Iwo Jima must be an insult to every American of Japanese ancestry. The monuments for each world war must be an insult to every American of German, Russian, or Italian ancestry too. And, we also need to remove every battleship or floating museum, after all, someone just might get upset if they see one.

Why not simply deny we are a sovereign nation and forget our honor, our integrity, our men and women who fought for that freedom and independence? They are an embarrassment to the leftists, and anyone who believes in what they fought and died for is a racist white supremacist who needs to be lynched for daring to breathe. Let’s just go all the way and destroy our country, turning it into a third world country where only a few are living well.

Oh yes, and we must deny God. We cannot have a belief in the Judea-Christian faith. It must be deleted from existence and denied as a rumor from the past. We must, instead, fear Islam and bow down to it, while we live degenerate, rudderless, selfish lifestyles that cater only to those who disbelieve in all that America was founded on, and until the past twenty years, stood as a beacon to freedom to the world. The leftist would have us be nothing more than mediocre. How dare we strive for excellence. We must be less than others to be accepted.

“Nothing in all the world is more dangerous than sincere ignorance and conscientious stupidity.” Martin Luther King, Jr. A brilliant deduction of the leftist beliefs. It horrifies me to see the complete lack of understanding of the importance of history and the events that shaped and formed our county. It is because we have experienced the past that we can move forward into the future with confidence and the ability to overcome the negative issues that crippled our country. Anyone who denies the past history is destined to repeat it, over and over and over again.

Yes, slavery was a part of our past as a country. It was awful, and in today’s modern society we condemn it. However, in today’s world slavery is still alive and well in many countries. I don’t see the leftists screaming and rioting about that. I guess it doesn’t really matter since it isn’t in their neighborhood, city, state, or country. There are no rabble rouser paying them to riot on behalf of the mutilated girls and women in Islamic countries, after all.

The greatest President of my generation, Ronald Reagan, said, “Freedom is never more than one generation away from extinction. We didn’t pass it to our children in the bloodstream. It must be fought for, protected, and handed on for them to do the same.” I fear, ladies and gents, that our children are failing and freedom will die with their generation. Our beacon will dim and be snuffed out by self serving, greedy, spoiled people who will never really grow up. Soon, America will become a back world country over run by those who do not want to overcome their past, but who will revel in their disappointments and anger relegating America to nothing more than a day care for the government to babysit. Our moral compass will be constantly stuck on half -assed.

If the leftists like Black Lives Matter and others of their ilk take over and cow the true Americans in our country, we will end. George Washington said, “If the freedom of speech is taken away then dumb and silent we may be led, like sheep to the slaughter.” Oh, but wait, he will not be important, nor will his words or thoughts, because we will have erased all knowledge of our first President via revisionist history. However, the words still ring true for those who want to listen. When we stop standing up against those who would destroy freedom, when we stand quiet and acquiescent, we will be led to the slaughter of the greatest country the world of mankind has ever seen.

So by all means, let us get to it, leftists. But know, that there are still Patriots who will stand against you, and we will not be silenced. Not because we are racists, not because we are filled with hate, not because we are paid to by powers that be, but because we understand and believe that we are One Nation, Under God, and that as such we represent the finest of all attributes. To quote Thomas Jefferson, “Do you want to know who you are? Don’t ask. Act! Action will delineate and define you.“

Feminist or Victimist?

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Back in the dark ages of the 1970’s women declared themselves to be feminists by burning their bras, and protesting Viet Nam. They cried, “I am WOMAN, hear me ROAR” while prancing around bare breasted to declare their freedom from oppressive males. Yee Haw, no longer ladies but WOMEN! And a lot of the regular women went along with the hard core man haters as they were bullied and shamed into standing “with the sisterhood.” Personally, I thought the whole thing was silly and embarrassing.

I didn’t need a bunch of females telling me how to be a woman, nor did I need to join a group of man haters and burn my bras to feel free. I didn’t need to have sex with everyone to feel empowered, and I sure as hell was not going to let anyone bully me into being a pathetic follower. I was, and always have been, always will be, a strong, independent minded, fully functional, intelligent, lady. Meaning, I have manners, morals, and a mental altitude geared toward compassion, motherhood, and being a wife and partner to my husband.

However, the hater feminists screamed louder, and the younger set fell for their lies and consummate bullying tactics, and we are now in our third generation of feminist females. I don’t have a clue what women find attractive about that title. More than a few have followed the Gloria group, declaring they deserved to have it all. A partner, kids, and a career that made them feel powerful. That the glass ceiling had to fall, and they would be the generation of women to do it. Yawn… whatever.

What happened is there are generations of kids who were raised in day care instead of their mothers. The women spent their lives torn between career and kids. And if there was time, a moment or two a week with their partner, who still had to work to fulfill the American dream of a home, a car, and two vacations a year. One with and one without the kids. Many longed to stay home, but were pressured by the mantra of the haters to do all and be all – and to be treated just like a man in all ways. Except in a special way. – Politically correct, you know, like they were delicate flowers deep inside.

So, look what we have forty years later. Feminism has turned into Victimism. Women no longer ROAR, they whimper. They no longer burn bras, they think they need to either prance about in a vagina costume, or cover up to support Sharia law. The haters are angry because their plan didn’t work, so they hate men even more, although it is more likely they drove more women away every generation with their vitriol spewing violence. They demand equality, and once they got it, they hated it. Because they weren’t special any longer, but just another cog in the wheel of the working wonks of the world, and that isn’t faaaair…. Be careful what you ask for, it just might bite your right on your ego.

Now, victimism has managed to emasculate every traditional male role, and it has made something as normal as appreciating the beauty of a female body illegal. Feminist flaunted their bodies and told women that it was something they should take pride in showing off. So, women dressed like they were walking sex on display, and now they are whimpering victimists because some guy, or another female, looked at them. Just looked. Well, if you look like a street walker, expect people to see a street walker.

Once, women were treated with respect by benefit of being a female. No longer. We are no longer valued by men as a loving companion, mother, or lover. We are treated just like any other guy, and with less respect than ever. Feminist saw the light in the 1990’s, and decided the way to force their issues was to become victims of Every. Single. Thing. Victimism is the new feminism of the twenty first century. They want fair, but not equal. Fair is not an option in most real life situations. Equal makes them feel demeaned – go figure – and that makes them victimized via being a feminist. Yes, I know, vastly vexing and illogical.

The roaring women of the 1970’s have fallen on hard times. There is no pride in sisterhood, it is every woman out for herself, and the wimpy males that hover in the background are the whipping boys of the future generation of women. Every feminist screamed defiance. Every victimist screams they are demeaned. Listen carefully the next time the likes of Ashley Judd gets in front of a bunch of other females. Hatred, anti male, anti family, anti women who disagree with the agenda, angry, bitter, vitriol spewing victimism all over those who just want to be normal, every day, honest to heaven, women, moms, wives, partners, and most of all happy.

I am not a victim, and I am sure as hell not a feminist. I am a woman, I don’t need to roar, a smile and a chat works wonders to solve issues. Oh, and I quite like men as friends, much more than shrewish victimist females.

Inspirational Women

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In my lifetime there have been many women who have inspired me to be a better person. It is difficult to choose one above the others, so I want to share with you, instead, several women who have inspired me.
When I was a little girl, my great grandmother, Sylvia Underwood Vandenburg, set the example of what a mother, grandmother, and great grandmother should be. She inspired me through her unrelenting work to feed, clothe, and educate her family. Grannie raised four children of her own, then raise six grandchildren in her home, when their parents abandoned them, while other grandchildren came and went on an as needed basis. She then raise three great grandchildren when her grandson divorced and needed someone to help take care of his kids while he worked.
Grannie was the finest example for sacrifice and service I have ever known. Her garden provided food for her family, neighbors, and anyone in need of food. She cooked for an army of people every day and lunch at Grannies was an event that stood until a week before she died. Because we are a farm family, lunch was the biggest meal of the day. It didn’t matter if we dropped in at the last minute, or if we brought along friends, Grannie always had enough food, and would just smile and “add another potato to the pot,” to make sure the meal stretched for everyone.
Her garden also provided flowers for everyone from new brides to the old and infirm. Her fingers sewed an unending supply of dresses, shirts, quilts, and dishtowels for all of her progeny and our friends. To have a quilt made by Grannie Vandenburg was the best wedding present any girl in the family could have. And when each of us had our first baby, and sometimes third or fourth, as long as she could see to do it, she made us a baby quilt. Those are held as sacred heirlooms by all of us.
Grannie was a small, quiet, homely, uneducated woman who was widowed at the early age of 50. Her life was hard, especially by today’s standards, but she was a tower of strength when it came to protecting her family. She always had the right advice, loving hug, or swat on the bottom for all of us children. She was wise, caring, possessed a wicked sense of humor, and she was one of the most spiritual women I’ve every known. All my life I have wanted to be just like her. To me, Grannie was exactly what a real woman was supposed to be. She could hoe a cotton field, do all the weekly wash, work in her garden, provide three meals a day, and still have time to sit quietly listening to a child struggle to learn to read at the end of a long day of work. Today, when I am sad or feeling lonely, the aromas of vanilla cookies and talcum powder bring back the feeling of unconditional love and security Grannie gave to all of “little ‘uns.”
When I was 26 I joined the church. In the small branch I attended in Harrison, Arkansas, there was a group of women who taught me what being a member was all about. Andrea Lewis, Mary Tasto, Marlene Lovelady, Ruby Essex, Eydie May Abell, and Candy Lovelady set the example for a very new and insecure sister over the six years I lived in Harrison, Arkansas. Each of them taught me in their own way. The older women, Andrea, Mary, and Marlene, who were each old enough to be my mother, gave me an ideal perspective on how to serve, teach, pray, and do visiting teaching. Mary taught me that the church was a place I could laugh, as well as shed tears and that I was too serious about every aspect of the gospel – something sacred didn’t mean something to fear. Andrea taught me that visiting teaching was much more than a lesson and a quick chat as we served together. She and her husband, Joe, were the couple I wanted Hal and I to learn to be like the most. I learned so much about service from Marlene, and those lessons still stand as my litmus test for how well I am doing. Ruby is the most spiritual of women whose calm devotion and knowledge in the gospel and in her testimony helped me to build on the basic knowledge I had as a new member. All of them are what I call prime examples, and it is my opinion that those four women are, in fact and deed, the best of the daughters of God.
The two younger women, Eydie Mae and Candy, were my first two friends in the church. For six years we raised our kids together, served together, struggled with our testimonies together, and built a friendship that still stands today. We were known for our silly antics, like the time they kidnapped me on my 30th birthday and took me to a big surprise party. We were known for being the terrible trio, because we were always up to something. We served in numerous callings together and shared every aspect of our lives.
In those years of learning and becoming a stalwart member of the church, they taught me to believe in myself, to laugh loud and long in joy, and to weep tears of sorrow without shame or embarrassment. Eydie Mae took the complex doctrines of the church and helped me see that the gospel is really quite simple, we make it hard. Candy taught me about dedication and strength. The two of them became my sisters in such a deep and meaningful way that no matter what happens, I will always stand by them.

Today they both live in Florida, and I live in Hong Kong. I miss them very much on days when I am feeling alone. But, all I have to do is wander in to my memory and find something that brings me joy, a laugh, or a comforting thought. I miss the wonderful small branch in Harrison. It is, and always will be, my home ward. The women there still set an example for me. And I will always yearn for those days when I could sit among them and feel the divine love and spirituality that makes them all so unique.

Finally, the women on the Sister’s List stand out as the most amazing women I’ve ever known. I admire their knowledge, spiritual joy, and ability to join together in the best Relief Society every created. When I am down, or angry, or hurt, or frightened, or worried, I just send an email. Within minutes, or at most, hours, I am sent words of comfort, peace, understanding, and usually a laugh or two. They even get indignant and angry on my behalf, and we all solve the world’s problems regularly, with laughter, and most of all, with compassion. I have learned the power of prayer from them, the importance of sisterhood and the ability to communicate and share our knowledge of the gospel principles. I have learned strength, and I have learned that no matter how hard things are, together we can overcome even the most horrific of worldly things. The awesome power of women who work together to accomplish miracles is proven daily by the women on the Sister’s List.
I am eternally grateful that the Lord has provided us with computers and the Internet. I am grateful that I couldn’t sleep one night and surfed into the LDSCN site all those years ago. I am grateful that my testimony has grown in leaps and bounds by the profound example of the testimonies of the sisters I have come to love even though I have never met them in person, or even heard their voices. I look forward, one day, to traveling to meet them. But if that doesn’t happen, I know I can look forward to meeting them on the other side. I know I will know them, all I have to do is look for a bunch of women who are laughing, and talking all at once.
I am so blessed.

The Colours of Our World

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The Colours of Our World
She painted the sky purple and the grass red. The flowers were streaks of pink on black; the house was crooked and orange with bright green swirls of smoke coming from the slanted chimney. The sun was a bright yellow circle with a smiling face painted in it, and the stick figures were dancing around the fanciful garden.
When the teacher bent to tell her that the grass should be green, the sky blue, and that the sun didn’t really have a face, the little girl looked at her and said, “Why not?” Being a grownup who believed in remaining firmly planted in reality, the teacher sputtered, “Because! That is how it really is!”
The little girl smiled winsomely at her teacher, and with all the wisdom of a five year old said, “Only if your old,” and happily applied another coat of purple to her sky. As she freely expressed her delight in the colours of her world, the little girl was teaching a lesson that would do all of us “grownups” good.
Sure, we all know reality. We are familiar with every shade of grass and sky. We have all the facts, figures, and knowledge accumulated through our lives. We are experts. In lock step, we move along our tunnel vision lives leaving behind the images of imagination to focus on the business of life. We base our very lives in the context of what is real. Or is it?
When was the last time you danced for the sheer joy of it? When was the last time you sang in the shower, or ate Jell-O out of the bowl straight from the refrigerator? When was the last time you took time to feel the texture of your favourite old sweater with your fingertips while your eyes were closed? When was the last time you caught rain drops on your tongue, or splashed in a mud puddle, or allowed yourself to be soaked to the skin in a sudden rain storm? How long ago was it that you last marched along humming a rousing rendition of a patriotic song? When did you stop seeing the magic in your life?
When we stop dreaming, when we stop seeing purple skies and red grass, when we stop yearning for magic in our lives – and finding it – when we forget that reality is what we make it, then we have forgotten the colours of our world.

Karron Combs
30 July, 2002