I have a dog in this hunt

We just left from visiting Gigi, my loves’ mother, stuck in a nursing facility who has suffered through this mess in the worst of possible ways. Loneliness.
And for what?
As my wife visited (through a closed window, talking on the phone) I watched an elderly lady (80’s) walk out of the facility with a walker and a mask (paper😂) passing within inches of my wife. They do this regularly.
So ask yourself, if they can come outside and walk around with a useless mask and adhere to policy, why can’t we go in with a mask 😷 and adhere to policy? A sincerely retarded question to need asking.
Secondary:
Mom needs physical therapy. Medicare only pays for so many sessions, the therapist from Medicare apparently are “screened” and can come in. After these Medicare paid sessions expire, mom’s private insurance can pay private therapists to come in... only they can’t come in, because the screening process (in place) won’t allow it. Apparently doesn’t sufficiently fit the agenda.
So she sits there, all day, every day, by herself, for three months. While you play this little tap dance with those seeking authority during “these trying times”, we watch mom suffer a little more each day.
This IS the flip side of your fears folks. People will die because of absolutely ridiculous and useless measures being imposed so those very few who may actually be at risk can “feel” safe. You won’t be, but your fear will kill many more than the virus. I hope that sinks in because at the end of the day, if you aren’t in personal danger (compromised immune system, because of age, health, or underlying conditions) and yet you advocate we wait for a vaccine, or until the virus is dead and gone so you can continue to feel safe, you wait with your finger poised on the trigger, and right now that weapon is pointed straight at my moms head, so I Have a dog in this hunt.

The River

T HE RIVER

Walking through the forest, a seasoned hiker came upon a broad, slowly moving river. He stopped to gaze over the waters, appreciating the beauty, when suddenly he heard a faint cry coming from upstream. 

Looking in the direction of the noise, he saw an obviously drowning man floundering in the river and drifting slowly toward him. 

The hiker was stunned momentarily, but he sprang into action when he saw the man disappear beneath the waters. Throwing off all of his cumbersome gear, he dove into the river and swam like a madman toward the spot where the man went under. 

Upon reaching the spot he plunged below the surface and frantically hauled up the helpless man. He then laborious ly towed the victim to shore. Heaving the lifeless body up on the riverbank, the hiker attempted to revive the man, who eventually spit up water and began to breathe. 

Relieved, the hiker paused to catch his breath. But no sooner had he done so than he heard another voice out on the water. Another drowning person! 

Once again he swam out and pulled the person to shore, a little more slowly this time. As the hiker-turned-lifeguard revived the second victim, he heard yet another cry for help. 

All day long the hiker worked, rescuing one person after another as they came drifting down the river. There seemed to be no end of drowning victims, and the hiker didn't think he could keep it up. 

J ust when he was about to collapse from exhaustion, he spotted another man walking rapidly beside the river, headed upstream. "Hey mister!" he cried out. "Please help me! These poor people are drowning!" 

Amazingly, the man kept walking upstream. The astonished hiker called out again. Without even acknowledging the cry, the man kept going. Indignant and angry, the hiker leapt to his feet, ran toward the uncompassionate man, stood directly in his path, and in a loud voice  demanded, "Sir! How can you possibly walk past all these drowning people? Have you no conscience? Must I force you to help me save these people?" 

The stranger stopped, looked at him for the first time and said with a calm, focused voice, "Sir, please get out of my way. I am headed upstream to stop the guy who is pushing all these people in." 

Each of us has a role to play in rescuing those who are drowning in sin. Some of us pull people from the water and resuscitate them with counseling, food and shelter, a rehabilitation program, a support group, or financial aid. Affirm those doing these important ministries. 

Others of us find our place of ministry upstream, opposing the one pushing people into the river. We do this by introducing those people to Jesus Christ. Knowing Christ sets a person free from sin and releases them from Satan's power over them. 

By itself, pulling people from the water isn't enough. 

We need to help people deal with the problem of sin at its source. 

-- Author Unknown

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Grandpa's Hands

Grandpa, some ninety plus years, sat feebly on the patio bench. He didn't move, just sat with his head down staring at his hands. When I sat down beside him he didn't acknowledge my presence and the longer I sat, I wondered if he was OK. Finally, not really wanting to disturb him but wanting to check on him at the same time, I asked him if he was OK. He raised his head and looked at me and smiled. "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you for asking," he said in a clear strong voice. "I didn´t mean to disturb you, Grandpa, but you were just sitting here staring at your hands and I wanted to make sure you were OK," I explained to him. "Have you ever looked at your hands," he asked. "I mean really looked at your hands?" I slowly opened my hands and stared down at them. I turned them over, palms up and then palms down. No, I guess I had never really looked at my hands as I tried to figure out the point he was making. Grandpa smiled and related this story: "Stop and think for a moment about the hands you have, how they have served you well throughout your years. These hands, though wrinkled, shriveled, and weak have been the tools I have used all my life to reach out and grab and embrace life. They put food in my mouth and clothes on my back. As a child my mother taught me to fold them in prayer. They tied my shoes and pulled on my boots. They have been dirty, scraped and raw, swollen and bent. They were uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold my newborn son. Decorated with my wedding band they showed the world that I was married and loved someone special. They trembled and shook when I buried my parents and spouse and walked my daughter down the aisle. They have covered my face, combed my hair, and washed and cleansed the rest of my body. They have been sticky and wet, bent and broken, dried and raw. And to this day, when not much of anything else of me works real well, these hands hold me up, lay me down, and again continue to fold in prayer. These hands are the mark of where I've been and the ruggedness of my life. But more importantly, it will be these hands that God will reach out and take when he leads me home. And with my hands He will lift me to His side and there I will use these hands to touch the face of Christ." I will never look at my hands the same again. But I remember God reached out and took my grandpa's hands and led him home. When my hands are hurt or sore I think of Grandpa. I know he has been stroked and caressed and held by the hands of God. I, too, want to touch the face of God and feel His hands upon my face. When you receive this, say a prayer for the person who sent it to you and watch God's answer to prayer work in your life. Let's continue praying for one another. Passing this on to anyone you consider a friend will bless you both. Passing this on to one not considered a friend is something Christ would have done. (I received this from a friend from South Africa)

Marines to the Rescue!

Did you know this about 9-11? AFTER FLIGHT 77 HIT THE PENTAGON ON 9/11, THE FOLLOWING HAPPENED A chaplain, who happened to be assigned to the Pentagon, told of an incident that happened right after Flight 77 hit the Pentagon on 9/11. A daycare facility inside the Pentagon had many children, including infants who were in heavy cribs. The daycare supervisor, looking at all the children they needed to evacuate, was in a panic over what they could do. There were many children, mostly toddlers, as well as the infants that would need to be taken out with the cribs. There was no time to try to bundle them into carriers and strollers. Just then a young Marine came running into the center and asked what they needed. After hearing what the center director was trying to do, he ran back out into the hallway and disappeared. The director thought, "Well, here we are, on our own." About 2 minutes later, that Marine returned with 40 other Marines in tow. Each of them grabbed a crib with a child, and the rest started gathering up toddlers. The director and her staff then helped them take all the children out of the center and down toward the park nears the Potomac .. Once they got about 3/4 of a mile outside the building, the Marines stopped in the park, and then did a fabulous thing - they formed a circle with the cribs, which were quite sturdy and heavy, like the covered wagons in the Old West. Inside this circle of cribs, they put the toddlers, to keep them from wandering off. Outside this circle were the 40 Marines, forming a perimeter around the children and waiting for instructions. There they remained until the parents could be notified and come get their children. The chaplain then said, "I don't think any of us saw nor heard of this on any of the news stories of the day. It was an incredible story of our men there.” There wasn't a dry eye in the room. The thought of those Marines and what they did and how fast they reacted; could we expect any less from them? It was one of the most touching stories from the Pentagon. It's the Military, not the politicians that ensure our right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. It's the Military who salutes the flag, who serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag. If you care to offer the smallest token of recognition and appreciation for the military, please pass this on and pray for our men and women, who have served and are currently serving our country, and pray for those who have given the ultimate sacrifice for freedom. "GOD BLESS AMERICA" FREE Animations for your email Click Here!

Psychology 101

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If you start with a cage containing five monkeys and inside the cage, hang a banana on a string from the top and then you place a set of stairs under the banana, before long a monkey will go to the stairs and climb toward the banana. As soon as he touches the stairs, you spray all the other monkeys with cold water. After a while another monkey makes an attempt with same result ... all the other monkeys are sprayed with cold water. Pretty soon when another monkey tries to climb the stairs, the other monkeys will try to prevent it. Now, put the cold water away. Remove one monkey from the cage and replace it with a new one. The new monkey sees the banana and attempts to climb the stairs. To his shock, all of the other monkeys beat the crap out of him. After another attempt and attack, he knows that if he tries to climb the stairs he will be assaulted. Next, remove another of the original five monkeys, replacing it with a new one. The newcomer goes to the stairs and is attacked. The previous newcomer takes part in the punishment...... with enthusiasm, because he is now part of the "team". Then, replace a third original monkey with a new one, followed by the fourth, then the fifth. Every time the newest monkey takes to the stairs, he is attacked. Now, the monkeys that are beating him up have no idea why they were not permitted to climb the stairs. Neither do they know why they are participating in the beating of the newest monkey. Finally, having replaced all of the original monkeys, none of the remaining monkeys will have ever been sprayed with cold water. Nevertheless, not one of the monkeys will try to climb the stairway for the banana. Why, you ask? Because in their minds...that is the way it has always been! This, my friends, is how Congress operates... and this is why, from time to time: ALL of the monkeys need to be REPLACED AT THE SAME TIME.

Now she is a teacher...

In September of 2005, on the first day of school, Martha Cothren, a History teacher at Robinson High School in Little Rock, did something not to be forgotten. On the first day of school, with the permission of the school superintendent, the principal and the building supervisor, she removed all of the desks in her classroom. When the first period kids entered the room they discovered that there were no desks. 'Ms. Cothren, where are our desks?' She replied, 'You can't have a desk until you tell me how you earn the right to sit at a desk.' They thought, 'Well, maybe it's our grades.' 'No,' she said. 'Maybe it's our behavior.' She told them, 'No, it's not even your behavior.' And so, they came and went, the first period, second period, third period. Still no desks in the classroom. Kids called their parents to tell them what was happening and by early afternoon television news crews had started gathering at the school to report about this crazy teacher who had taken all the desks out of her room. The final period of the day came and as the puzzled students found seats on the floor of the desk-less classroom. Martha Cothren said, 'Throughout the day no one has been able to tell me just what he or she has done to earn the right to sit at the desks that are ordinarily found in this classroom. Now I am going to tell you.' At this point, Martha Cothren went over to the door of her classroom and opened it. Twenty-seven (27) U.S. Veterans, all in uniform, walked into that classroom, each one carrying a school desk. The Vets began placing the school desks in rows, and then they would walk over and stand alongside the wall. By the time the last soldier had set the final desk in place those kids started to understand, perhaps for the first time in their lives, just how the right to sit at those desks had been earned. Martha said, 'You didn't earn the right to sit at these desks. These heroes did it for you. They placed the desks here for you. They went halfway around the world, giving up their education and interrupting their careers and families so you could have the freedom you have. Now, it's up to you to sit in them. It is your responsibility to learn, to be good students, to be good citizens. They paid the price so that you could have the freedom to get an education. Don't ever forget it.' By the way, this is a true story. And this teacher was awarded Veterans of Foreign Wars Teacher of the Year for the State of Arkansas in 2006. She is the daughter of a WWII POW. *Do you think this email is worth passing along so others won't forget either, that the freedoms we have in this great country were earned by our U.S. Veterans? ................... I did. Let us always remember the men and women of our military and the rights they have won... (Verified by Snopes.com)

Sometimes true life is better than fiction...you gotta love a good thug story...Semper Fi

AN ACTUAL CRAIG'S LIST PERSONALS AD To the Guy Who Tried to Mug Me in Downtown Savannah night before last. Date: 2010-09-27, 1:43 am. E.S.T. I was the guy wearing the black Burberry jacket that you demanded that I hand over, shortly after you pulled the knife on me and my girlfriend, threatening our lives. You also asked for my girlfriend's purse and earrings. I can only hope that you somehow come across this rather important message. First, I'd like to apologize for your embarrassment; I didn't expect you to actually crap in your pants when I drew my pistol after you took my jacket.. The evening was not that cold, and I was wearing the jacket for a reason.. my girlfriend was happy that I just returned safely from my 2nd tour as a Combat Marine in Afghanistan .. She had just bought me that Kimber Custom Model 1911 ..45 ACP pistol for my birthday, and we had picked up a shoulder holster for it that very evening. Obviously you agree that it is a very intimidating weapon when pointed at your head ... isn't it?! I know it probably wasn't fun walking back to wherever you'd come from with crap in your pants. I'm sure it was even worse walking bare-footed since I made you leave your shoes, cell phone, and wallet with me. [That prevented you from calling or running to your buddies to come help mug us again]. After I called your mother or "Momma" as you had her listed in your cell, I explained the entire episode of what you'd done. Then I went and filled up my gas tank as well as those of four other people in the gas station, -- on your credit card. The guy with the big motor home took 153 gallons and was extremely grateful! I gave your shoes to a homeless guy outside Vinnie Van Go Go's, along with all the cash in your wallet. [That made his day!] I then threw your wallet into the big pink "pimp mobile" that was parked at the curb ..... after I broke the windshield and side window and keyed the entire driver's side of the car. Earlier, I managed to get in two threatening phone calls to the DA's office and one to the FBI, while mentioning President Obama as my possible target. The FBI guy seemed really intense and we had a nice long chat (I guess while he traced your number etc.) In a way, perhaps I should apologize for not killing you ... but I feel this type of retribution is a far more appropriate punishment for your threatened crime. I wish you well as you try to sort through some of these rather immediate pressing issues, and can only hope that you have the opportunity to reflect upon, and perhaps reconsider, the career path you've chosen to pursue in life.. Remember, next time you might not be so lucky.. Have a good day! Thoughtfully yours, Semper Fi,

COMMUNISM IS CREEPING

Short Quiz


COMMUNISM IS CREEPING IN ONE STEP AT A TIME, EXACTLY AS PLANNED.

Six trivia questions to see how much history you know. Be honest, it's kinda fun and revealing.
If you don't know the answer make your best guess.

Answer all the questions (no cheating) before looking at the answers.
Who said it?

1) "We're going to take things away from you on behalf of the common good."
A. Karl Marx
B. Adolph Hitler
C. Joseph Stalin
D. None of the above

2) "It's time for a new beginning, for an end to government of the few, by the few, and for the few......
And to replace it with shared responsibility ,,,,,for shared prosperity."
A. Lenin
B. Mussolini
C. Idi Amin
D. None of the Above

3) "(We) ......can't just let business as usual go on, and that means something has to be taken away from some people."
A. Nikita Khrushev
B. Josef Goebbels
C. Boris Yeltsin
D. None of the above

4) "We have to build a political consensus and that requires people to give up a little bit of their own ...
in order to create this common ground."
A. Mao Tse Dung
B. Hugo Chavez
C. Kim Jong Il
D. None of the above

5) "I certainly think the free-market has failed."
A. Karl Marx
B. Lenin
C. Molotov
D. None of the above

6) "I think it's time to send a clear message to what has become the most profitable sector in (the) entire economy that they are being watched."
A. Pinochet
B. Milosevic
C. Saddam Hussein
D. None of the above





Scroll down for answers







Answers:
(1) D. None of the above. Statement was made by Hillary Clinton 6/29/2004
(2) D. None of the above. Statement was made by Hillary Clinton 5/29/2007
(3) D. None of the above. Statement was made by Hillary Clinton 6/4/2007
(4) D. None of the above. Statement was made by Hillary Clinton 6/4/2007
(5) D. None of the above. Statement was made by Hillary Clinton 6/4/2007
(6) D. None of the above. Statement was made by Hillary Clinton 9/2/2005



Wanna know something scary? She may be the next socialist president if you don't forward this to everyone that you know.

Geniuses or idiots?

By Junius P. Long

Food For Thought

If you can get arrested for hunting or fishing
without a license, but not for being in the
country illegally,you might live in a country
founded by geniuses but run by idiots.

If you have to get your parents’ permission to go
on a field trip or take an aspirin in school,
but not to get an abortion, you might live in
a country founded by geniuses but run by
idiots.

If the only school curriculum allowed to explain how we got here
is evolution,but the government stops a $15-million construction
project to keep a rare spider from evolving to extinction, you might
live in a country founded by geniuses but run by idiots.

If you have to show identification to board an
airplane, cash a check, buy liquor or check out
a library book, but not to vote who runs the
government, you might live in a country
founded by geniuses but run by idiots.

If the government wants to ban stable, law-abiding
citizens from owning gun magazines with more
than ten rounds, but gives 20 F-16 fighter jets
to the crazy new leaders in Egypt, you might
live in a country founded by geniuses but run by
idiots.

If, in the largest city, you can buy two 16-ounce
sodas, but not a 24-ounce soda because 24 ounces of a sugary
drink might make you fat, you might live in a country founded by
geniuses but run by idiots.

If an 80-year-old woman can be stripped searched by the TSA but
a woman in a hijab is only subject to having her neck and head
searched, you might live in a country founded by geniuses but
run by idiots.

If your government believes that the best way to
eradicate trillions of dollars of debt is to spend trillions more, you
might live in a country founded by geniuses but run by idiots.

If a seven-year-old boy can be thrown out of school for saying his
teacher’s "cute," but hosting a sexual exploration or diversity class
in grade school is perfectly acceptable, you might live in a country
founded by geniuses but run by idiots.

If children are forcibly removed from parents who
discipline them with spankings while children of
addicts are left in filth and drug-infested “homes” you might live in a
country founded by geniuses but run by idiots.

If hard work and success are met with higher taxes
and more government intrusion, while not working
is rewarded with EBT cards, WIC checks,
Medicaid, subsidized housing and free cell phones, you might live
in a country founded by geniuses but run by idiots.
If the government's plan for getting people back to work is to
incentivize NOT working with 99 weeks of unemployment checks
and no requirement to prove they applied but can’t find work, you
might live in a country founded by geniuses but run by idiots.

If being stripped of the ability to defend yourself
makes you more "safe" according to the government, you might live
in a country founded by geniuses but run by idiots.

If you are offended by this article, I'll bet you
voted for the idiots who are running, and
ruining our great country.

ZERO TOLERANCE AWAITS MUSLIM CRUELTY!

"EUROPEAN LIFE DIED IN AUSCHWITZ"

By Sebastian Vilar Rodrigez

"I walked down the street in Barcelona and suddenly discovered a terrible truth - Europe died in Auschwitz ... We killed six million Jews and replaced them with 20 million Muslims. In Auschwitz we burned a culture, thought, creativity, talent. We destroyed the chosen people, truly chosen, because they produced great and wonderful people who changed the world.

These are the people we burned.

And under the pretence of tolerance, and because we wanted to prove to ourselves that we were cured of the disease of racism, we opened our gates to 20 million Muslims, who brought us stupidity and ignorance, religious extremism and lack of tolerance, crime and poverty, due to an unwillingness to work and support their families with pride.

They have blown up our trains and turned our beautiful Spanish cities into the third world, drowning in filth and crime. Shut up in the apartments they receive free from the government, they plan the murder and destruction of their naive hosts.

And thus, in our misery, we have exchanged culture for fanatical hatred, creative skill for destructive skill, intelligence for backwardness and superstition. We have exchanged the pursuit of peace of the Jews of Europe and their talent for a better future for their children, their determined clinging to life because life is holy, for those who pursue death, for people consumed by the desire for death for themselves and others, for our children and theirs.

What a terrible mistake was made by miserable Europe.

A lot of Americans have become so insulated from reality that they imagine America can suffer defeat without any inconvenience to themselves. Recently, the UK debated whether to remove The Holocaust from its school curriculum because it 'offends' the Muslim population which claims it never occurred. It is not removed as yet. However, this is a frightening portent of the fear that is gripping the world and how easily each country is giving in to it.

It is now more than sixty years after the Second World War in Europe ended. This e-mail is being sent as a memorial chain, in memory of the six million Jews, twenty million Russians, ten million Christians, and nineteen-hundred Catholic priests who were 'murdered, raped, burned, starved, beaten, experimented on and humiliated.' Now, more than ever, with Iran, among others, claiming the Holocaust to be 'a myth', it is imperative to make sure the world never forgets.

This e-mail is intended to reach 400 million people. Be a link in the memorial chain and help distribute this around the world.

How many years will it be before the attack on the World Trade Center 'NEVER HAPPENED' because it offends some Muslim in the United States? If our Judeo-Christian heritage is offensive to Muslims, they should pack up and move to Iran, Iraq, or some other Muslim country.

If you delete this instead of sending it on to every one in your address book, then you may just be so complacent that the MUSLIMS takeover our nation. Is that what you want? Let us all say,

ZERO TOLERANCE AWAITS MUSLIM CRUELTY!"

For those who remember...

For all of us to remember.
Blessings
There are 58,267 names now listed on that polished black wall,
including those added in 2010.
The names are arranged in the order in which they were taken from us
by date and within each date the names are alphabetized. It is hard to
believe it is 36 years since the last casualties.
The first known casualty was Richard B. Fitzgibbon, of North Weymouth
, Mass. Listed by the U.S. Department of Defense as having been killed
on June 8, 1956. His name is listed on the Wall with that of his son,
Marine Corps Lance Cpl. Richard B. Fitzgibbon III, who was killed on
Sept. 7, 1965.
There are three sets of fathers and sons on the Wall.
39,996 on the Wall were just 22 or younger.
8,283 were just 19 years old.
The largest age group, 33,103 were 18 years old.
12 soldiers on the Wall were 17 years old.
5 soldiers on the Wall were 16 years old.
One soldier, PFC Dan Bullock was 15 years old.
997 soldiers were killed on their first day in Vietnam ..
1,448 soldiers were killed on their last day in Vietnam ..
31 sets of brothers are on the Wall.
Thirty one sets of parents lost two of their sons.
54 soldiers attended Thomas Edison High School in Philadelphia . I
wonder why so many from one school.
8 Women are on the Wall. Nursing the wounded.
244 soldiers were awarded the Medal of Honor during the Vietnam War;
153 of them are on the Wall.
Beallsville, Ohio with a population of 475 lost 6 of her sons.
West Virginia had the highest casualty rate per capita in the nation.
There are 711 West Virginians on the Wall.
The Marines of Morenci - They led some of the scrappiest high school
football and basketball teams that the little Arizona copper town of
Morenci (pop. 5,058) had ever known and cheered. They enjoyed roaring
beer busts. In quieter moments, they rode horses along the Coronado
Trail, stalked deer in the Apache National Forest. And in the
patriotic camaraderie typical of Morenci's mining families, the nine
graduates of Morenci High enlisted as a group in the Marine Corps.
Their service began on Independence Day, 1966. Only 3 returned home.
The Buddies of Midvale - LeRoy Tafoya, Jimmy Martinez, Tom Gonzales
were all boyhood friends and lived on three consecutive streets in
Midvale, Utah on Fifth, Sixth and Seventh avenues. They lived only a
few yards apart. They played ball at the adjacent sandlot ball field.
And they all went to Vietnam. In a span of 16 dark days in late 1967,
all three would be killed. LeRoy was killed on Wednesday, Nov. 22, the
fourth anniversary of John F. Kennedy's assassination. Jimmy died less
than 24 hours later on Thanksgiving Day. Tom was shot dead assaulting
the enemy on Dec. 7, Pearl Harbor Remembrance Day.
The most casualty deaths for a single day was on January 31, 1968 ~
245 deaths.
The most casualty deaths for a single month was May 1968 - 2,415
casualties were incurred.
For most Americans who read this they will only see the numbers that
the Vietnam War created. To those of us who survived the war, and to
the families of those who did not, we see the faces, we feel the pain
that these numbers created. We are, until we too pass away, haunted
with these numbers, because they were our friends, fathers, husbands,
wives, sons and daughters. There are no noble wars, just noble warriors.

Pass on that pill..

The weak link in the gun control/confiscation chain that this outlaw administration is proposing, is considering who's going to actually do the confiscation. With Sheriffs from counties across the nation chiming in on the side of the 2nd vowing to support our right to protect ourselves against this very type of tyranny, it's going to be a tough row to hoe for those trying.

There are millions of veteran military, as well as former/active LEO who will invariably side with these Sheriffs.

Will agents employed by the federal government for this task be willing to engage fellow officers in a gunfight to remove the guns? There is a very big difference between buying a bazzilion bullets for DHS and finding enough agents with moxy enough to fire on fellow Americans.

We've heard the stories about foreign/UN troops being brought in, but that's not a realistic scenario either when you consider how many millions of private owners their are, who at present are sitting quietly waiting to see "which way the political winds will blow". They haven't been goaded into responding yet, but let troops enter into flyover America and you'll see the resolve of our culture.
 

Consider this as well, will the executive branch even be able to function if they piss off enough home grown legislators who then defund them?
 

Personally, I think our narcissistic leader is running a big ass bluff and trying to scare us into voluntarily giving up our guns. As I recently wrote in another social post.."Voluntarily giving up our guns is like hanging ourselves and waiting for someone from the government to come cut the rope before we strangle to death".
 

Hearing PrezBo talk yesterday about 2nd supporters garnering fear for the sake of sales and sound bites implies that our fears about the slippery slope gun control amounts to are unfounded and that we should trust him with our future safety.

 

Sorry folks, not to mix political metaphors, but if Obama's history with abortion, drones, selling guns to criminals, giving guns to terrorists and leaving good men to die while he watched, is the example of trust he expects us to swallow, I'll have to pass on that pill.

I encourage family & friends to join me in a peaceful protest of those infringements on our society that are levied by a government seemingly bent on destroying us. We can do this by boycotting All spending on Inauguration Day. This is a movement I started at precisely 11:59 on 11/06/12...I have posted it hundreds of times on twitter.com @kinsman59 #BreakTheFed. With over 4,000 followers, it had been re-posted across this country. Should enough people keep their wallets in their pockets and spend No money on that one day, the ripple in commerce would be sufficient to be noticed. There are only two plausible ways of halting the slide we are on into the destruction of America as a world leader. We can either launch an armed revolution and storm the capitals, or we can launch a fiscal revolution and really hurt government where it counts...we can starve the bastards into submission. This little boycott I'm declaring isn't likely to do much...but it just might be that last great act of defiance that makes We The People noticeable in our ability to control our own destiny. It will cost you nothing, just buy your particulars before, or after 1/21/13, and spend absolutely no money on that day. If you have had enough of the fiscal and general policy failures of this administration, you can, at the very least, say you didn't support it for a day. If you question what this might actually do, do some research on supply & demand, and the history of disruptions in the supply chains of various corporations....or, just eat a bunch of cheese for a couple of days, you'll get the idea....

A Dressing Down...

Arguing the debate over whether the government can/will confiscate our guns is akin to the employer trying to give the employee that "dressing down" before he fires him.  At about that point in the conversation where one realizes the end result that will come of it, and the situation is sized up for what it is, there will be no more contract to dispute.  If I'm not going to have a job at the end of it, I'm damn sure not going to sit through the degradation of listening to it.
All that to say this...when owning a gun makes me an outlaw, I'll not worry about the breaking of any additional laws to use it in the protection of myself, or those I love, against an outlaw government coming to take it.  Being a student of history, I know what happens next to those who have given up their right to protect themselves. 

So when the decision to keep my gun has been made, in spite of an "executive order", made by a rogue administration to confiscate, it follows I'll no longer consider myself under the authority of the asshats that support it, and the intent will have already been established as to whether I'll use it in my defense.
In conclusion, if you've chosen to join forces with those who intend to take my gun, and the freedom it represents from me, in spite of the Constitution that declares it my inalienable right to protect myself, I'll not concern myself with pondering the distinction of whether you are still my countryman.  To mix my metaphores, I'll quit and speak my own piece before you can fire me.  Molen Labe

Save their bullets..

This particular blog is drafted from a facebook post made by my younger (but bigger) brother.  He lives in the Litchfield area of Phoenix AZ....on the trailing edge of the metro closest to the desert and only a few miles from the border.  We've made some jaunts out into no man's land together when I've visited him, but he's out there all the time.

As I've stated in earlier posts, guns are extensions of our persona's...he's got some nice ones, and as you'll read in the words ahead, he's not about to give his up any faster than I will....

I told him not to keep all that savvy to himself...and he hasn't...read on.

So I'm watching the news and listening to some liberal, candy assed, big mouth, girly man go on about how I don't need my guns. About how people in general don't need guns.  About how most burglars don't enter occupied homes, they typically only enter empty ones.  As if our only problem in this country was petty thieves!

This kind of stupid is everywhere these days!  So you morons who believe this kind of crap, take comfort in this...they most likely won't use guns to exterminate you.  What they'll do is save their bullets for the thinkers.  They'll save them for those of us who have the ability to reason and pose a genuine threat to their agenda.  The rest of you candy asses will be pushed like sheep into the most economical demise divisible.

But dumb dumbs, put this in your pipe and smoke it....the stupid will NOT do my thinking and decision making....nor will they tell me I can't be a man and protect my family by whatever means necessary. 

Everyone I personally know is maintaining their composure during this liberal shit storm in the best interest of peace....but growing increasingly agitated.

You liberal candy asses are poking at a sleeping lion....and when he wakes up, he's gonna be pissed.

He went for his pistol...

I'm a cowboy, always have been, always will be. I don't mean the gunsel, drug store type either. I literally learned to ride a horse before I learned to walk.  Momma loved horses, had horses and used to set me on the saddle in front of her when she rode.

I was born in Phoenix Arizona in '59. In '64 mom and dad divorced and we moved to Oregon where mom and her new hubby bought a few dozen acres on which we raised, broke and stabled quarters horses. I learned to ride on my own and my brother and I spent hours in the hills of western Oregon on horseback, on foot, camping and packing out.  Guns were a primary part of that upbringing. We learned to handle, shoot and care for those guns just like we did the horses we rode.  I've never lost my love, and respect, for either.

I left home in '77 after graduating high school and moved back to Phoenix where my dad lived. After a year I realized that the city wasn't for me. I had burned some bridges and going back to Oregon wasn't in the cards, so I joined the Marines. Because of enlisting in a non-conflict era, I ended up spending four years in a boot camp environment.  My job there?  Amongst other things, teaching weapons culture & nomenclature. I taught recruits how to break down, service and re-assemble the M16 and the Colt .45.

I left the Marines in '85. But the Marines never left me.  Nor did my love of the western way of life. During the next few years, my brother and I would spend many a day and night, moving about in the desert on more modern day "horses" if you will. Four wheel drives and motorcycles got us farther, faster. But we still wore the hats, and pistols were the tool of the day.

I had a favorite in those days. It was a Uberte .357 Magnum.  Very rare, it was a single action six shooter manufactured by Italian maker Uberte who sent 600 of them to the U.S. in '28 as potential side arms for cavalry officers.  They never took because the Colt .45 1911 came on the scene hard and boxed them out.  But it was a fine piece. It broke my heart years later when I lost it to a break in.  My point in mentioning it is that pistol spent more time warm from by body temp than my wife. 

Over the years that's mostly been the case.  These days it's a Springfield Armory V-10 1911 .45ACP.
I picked it up several years ago when I entered a local BLET program.  I was working on a Private Investigators license and figured the law enforcement training would be a good place to start. My original intention was to get into private security investigations and threat assessment.  Somewhere along the way after graduating the program and getting certification to be a police officer, but never exercising the endorsement, a Bail Bond license and fugitive recovery business got under my feet.

I did that several years before a near miss made me stop to smell some daisy's before I turned up under them.  My Marine Corps, BLET and personal skills training stood me in good stead several times over those years, but I figured somewhere along the way odds would pop up against me. Though the incident I'm fixing to describe didn't have much or anything to do with my occupation at the time, the sheer odds of a bad encounter made me juke a different direction.  I'm still in the private security business, though a bit more civilized now than then.

I mentioned the western side of me to explain that, from time to time, I still enjoy wearing my Charlie One Horse felt sombrero.  Living in North Carolina these days, baseball caps are more the style for equestrians, but I never gained a flavor for them while wearing my boots.  The kids in the neighborhood got a big kick out of the cowboy hat and took to calling me Garth shortly after we moved in.

In the summer of 2004, late on a weekend night, I was waiting for my daughter to come home from a date.  She was pushing curfew and I was sitting on the front porch in a fine state of pisstivity.  She eventually married the boy so I'll have to say he survived the night. They make songs about stuff like that but this was real life. 

Like always I was packing.  I have several handguns which I change out from time to time depending on the circumstances.  That night I had been at my church with some of the men so my carry was on the lite side.  I had a Bersa .380.  It's kind of a Walther PPK James Bond type 9mm knockoff. Nice pistol, but inexpensive and easy to conceal.  I had it in an open paddle holster on my right hip.

To keep my mind off of the ticking clock I had been whittling on a cedar staff I'd cut from the church property a few weeks prior.  It was about four feet long and shaped kinda like a samurai sword.  I like to hike so the staff was shaping up to be a useful tool on the trail.

Somewhere in the midst of my grumbling and the whittling, I heard a dirt bike start up just down the block.  Not unusual for a bike, but an unmuzzled one at 11:45 at night was on the obnoxious order.  Not only did it start up, but it continued to rev up until it was tacking out.  I thought at first it was throttle stuck but it kept going on and on.  Anybody with any brains would have killed the ignition if it looked like it was going to blow up. 

I had hedges at the time, so I'll walked down the path to the break and peaked around the corner.  Maybe two houses down to the left, in the middle of the street was an idiot with his front brake locked and the back wheel just a smokin' doing a burn-out.

Now mind you, this is 11:45 on Sunday night.  I still had the staff in my hand so I walked out into the middle of the street and gave the pin-head an arm spread gesture of WTF??  He had a cloud of smoke billowing out around him and a pile of rubber six inches high behind the rear tire.  Looking up at me he released the brake, popped a wheelie and started down the road in my general direction. It's a residential street and fairly narrow so with me standing in the middle there wasn't much room to go around, especially at the speed he was moving. 

Sometimes common sense and I part ways.  This was one of those times.  I refused to back down and postured myself to use the staff as a baseball bat to knock him off as he went by.  He dropped the front wheel at the last moment, veered and boogied on down the street.  I stood and listened as his bike Dopplered off into the distance.  After a couple of minutes I made my way back to the porch, shaking my head on the way at the stupidity of some people...not altogether meaning just him.

I had no more than sat back down when I heard the incoming Doppler of his bike again...or one sounding a lot like it.  "Surely", I said to myself, "this idiot won't come back into the neighborhood again."  Well, frankly, he did.  He blasted through the stop-sign at the end of the street and barreled down towards my house.  For the second time, sense escaped me and I met him in front of my house as he came by.  I was just clearing the hedges so I pointed the staff at him as he roared by and yelled something superficially intelligent. Actually I think I un-abbreviated WTF!  He blew by, went another 200 feet and brodied to a stop facing me, revving the motor.

I noticed this time that he had gathered an audience other than myself.  The neighbor across the street was on his porch, and lights were coming on down both ways.  I also noticed for the first time that at my neighbors three houses down on the left, a pick-up was sitting on the street with the tail gate down and a couple of kids were sitting on the back.  My guess is that's where the biker genius had been when he left the first time, showing off.

Motor city madness was revving in the street, facing me while I was standing there wielding my would be samurai sword.  He revved and popped the clutch bolting towards me with the front wheel off the ground again.  I took up a proper Mickey Mantle posture ready to swing for the bleachers when he came by.  I really don't know what would have happened had I actually hit him like that, whether he'd depart the saddle or my arms would depart the sockets, but I was ready none-the-less.  At the last possible moment instead of swerving, this time he dropped the front wheel and brodied to a stop maybe three feet from me. 

He was wearing one of those full face enduro type helmets so I couldn't see much of his face in the darkness.  I could, however, see that he had black holes for eyes so I assumed the showing off was probably primed with something mind altering at the very least.  Revving the engine one last time he killed it. I took the opportunity during the silence to ask him the $64,000 question..."Just what 'in the wild world of sports' do you think you are doing...dumbass?!!!"

He responded with just as note worthy of an answer..."What 'in the wild world of sports' business is it of yours?" 

I explained I lived here, it was Sunday night, and if he was intent on killing himself in a drug induced frenzy, to kindly do it in someone Else's neighborhood.  He said "fork you!" and I said "you first!" and smacked him soundly on top of his helmeted head with the cedar staff. Of course it did no physical harm, but I'm sure it rang his bell and thumped his eardrums good.  His glazed eyes crossed once and he started with a "why you..." as he commenced to take his helmet off (stupid!!?), throw his leg off the bike, and grabs for a previously unseen pistol in the waste band of his britches, all at the same time.

It's at this particular moment that that strangest of all phenomena occurs for the gunfighter.  All time seems to slow down to a frame by frame pace.  This has happened to me before.  I assume it happens to all who are entirely focused on the situation at hand, but I've no proof.

All I can tell you is that his helmet dropped onto the mirror, his right foot started lifting off the ground, his right hand reached for his waste band and I saw the gun all at the same instant.  In that same instant I heard the staff clatter onto the pavement as I squinted down my pistol sites at the center of his forehead. I don't remember reaching for or drawing the weapon.  It was just there.

He froze. 

I saw terror in his eyes and heard the "oof" of breath expel from his lungs.  I then heard my neighbor across the street yell, "Don't do it Keith! He ain't worth it!"  A pregnant silence followed as we held our locked gaze for what seemed an eternity. He had his hand on the butt of his pistol, but had yet to pull it from his pants. One leg was still poised in mid-air as he balanced on the one foot on the ground.  I had the Bersa in a wrist locked Weaver stance and she wasn't wavering. I saw his eyes lose contact with the bore of the pistol and focus on mine....I think he saw the resolve.

I gave it another eternity or two then simply said "Sit....ride".  Much to his credit, and my salvation, he sat, pulled the helmet on, kicked the bike and split all in another four or five heartbeats.

I stood in the middle of the street for a moment or two before I realized my neighbor was standing at the sidewalk and talking to me.  He told me to relax that the police had been called and were on the way.  I nodded once, reached down and picked up my staff and walked back to the front porch.  I placed my pistol on the hand rail in plain sight and sat on my front steps waiting for the law.

Several minutes later two patrol cars pulled up.  One walked across the street to the neighbor who had called, the other came to my drive and asked if I was okay.  I stated that I was and pointed at the pistol several feet away on the rail.  He nodded once and stood there observing me without speaking again.  I thought that a bit strange but kept my peace.  After a few minutes of nodding and pointing my neighbor seemed to have spun his tale to his officer.  Said officer then walked the half block up to the pick-up truck to interview the other observers of the show-down.

I couldn't classify my neighbor across the street as a friend, but I wouldn't go so far as to say he was an enemy either.  Our kids hung out together over the years but he'd had some unsavory domestic episodes with his wife that kind of kept us from being pals.  I wasn't sure what he had told the officer, but I knew for the most part, I was in the right.  Excepting walking out for the confrontation in the first place.

The kids down the street were a different story.  Their daddy was an old school redneck who's pappy was in the KKK and had run moonshine in years past.  He ran street drags himself and we'd had words over the years about late night big blocks tacking out.  I knew the kids (16yrs old or so) smoked some dope and were a general nuisance in the neighborhood, but not all bad.  What they might tell the officers was completely unknown.

So I waited.

At one point, in a rather excitedly loud voice I heard one of the kids say.."he went for his pistol but Garth said Shoom!! and did a quick draw on him like I never seen".

The two officers then converged at the end of my driveway and talked for a couple of moments before the interviewer asked if he could approach the porch. I nodded at him, and he came on up.

My expectations at this point, having had run ins with the law a time or two over the years, was that they'd confiscate my weapon, take me into custody and I'd be explaining the aforementioned tale to a judge.

Instead he approached me at the bottom step and asked if I was okay.  I repeated that I was and waited for his spiel.  He looked down at his notes, looked at the pistol on the rail, and said this...
"So let me get this straight....kid was making an ass of himself at midnight on a Sunday, you come out to see what's going on, the kid tries to run you down with his bike, you jump, he comes around again and you smack him with a broom stick. He stops, tries to pull a pistol but you have one of your own, out draw him, get the drop, and he rides away...that sound about right?"

I said "Yep".  He looks me in the eye, and says "Okay, you have a good night, sir"  Spins around, approaches his partner, says "nothing here" and they leave.

My daughter and her beau pull up just as they are saddling up.  She asks me what's going on, I told her I just called off the search patrol out looking for her. The look she gives me is priceless.....

We Called Them Zombies...

Watch closely people, in the next few weeks and months you will see every "right wing nut conspiracy theory" come to be,  and right before your very eyes.
Take heed of this though, that's not the worst of it.  Because our government knows these "theories" to actually be true, and now that "flexibility" has been achieved, they no longer have to deny them.  So the stories will "out", and like water seeking it's own level, they will flow into the ears of the duplicitous masses who voted for it and they, only too late, will realize the fate they have delivered us into and they will cower in terror.
Then, not only will we that know how to work, fight, and survive, have to feed them, clothe them, and see to their health, we'll have to step around them as they stand dumbfounded, less than useless in the middle of the street as we go about the business of fighting to regain what they have given away in their lazy, self centered greed.
We called them zombies during the electoral campaign for mindlessly following the scripted rhetoric dished out to them by a bought and paid for media.  Now they truly will be the walking dead. Because in a generation, when the taxed can no longer pay, and the government feed trough is thus barren, their starving masses will line the turgid streets begging for the morsel that just won't be there.
The greatest irony however, is this.  That same media that kept them in the dark about the criminally negligent and incompetent actions of this puppet government they voted in place, has kept from them this devastatingly simple fact as well, the government doesn't care anymore for the liberal left, than it does for the middle or the right.  So while the government will have to expend millions of stockpiled 9mm pistol rounds in attempting to exterminate those of us who will resist them and fight the coming war, all they have to do is stand back and watch the lapdogs that voted them into office starve because they're now second, third and sometimes fourth generation sheep dependant on the government for everything they have, or need.  All the tyrannical dictator has to do at this point is cut off the spigot.
What will then ensue is a political, social storm like those seen preceding WWll. Citizens of the inner cities will be screaming for agencies like FEMA to come bail them out.  What they don't know is that, as you can plainly see by their efforts during Sandy, FEMA isn't really tasked with storm support, of any kind. What it has actually been put into place for is to manage this useless chattel in camps until they can be disposed of via the thousands of cattle cars lining railroad track spurs throughout the deep mid west. 
The most obvious plan is for the warrior elite to die on the battlefield, the serf born peasants to die of starvation and disease, and for the cream of the socialist crop to reap the spoils of war. In less than a generation the United States will be stripped of power and turned into one vast government farm. Like Detroit, the inner cities will spoil and decay until they too are turned into farmland or house the people that do survive who will be used as labor on the vast farms implemented to "distribute" resources to the rest of the starving world. Socialism will be complete.
That's the plan anyhow.  It won't work though. And it won't work because God won't let it.  America is a two hundred and fifty year experiment in democracy and freedom, that while sorely tested on occasion, is peopled by citizens who've learned a few things in those years.  Today she has strayed away from her God, and is now paying the price for it.  But look at this. The people who strayed are the weakest for it. And though we'll have to fight tooth and nail to get it back, those that caused the slide into hell will be the first to suffer and parish.
In Biblical history, God allowed the tribe of Israel to wander in the wilderness for forty years in order to weed out the hard hearted and faithless, those dependant on Pharaoh. It wasn't until a generation died and those left lost that dependency, only then gaining the realization that Pharaoh couldn't and wouldn't save them, that they turned their eyes and hearts back to God.
He may do no less for America.
A last thought.  You may read the heart of this epitaph and have thought to yourself while reading it, that I am a hard hearted, cynical soul.  Devoid of any grace or charity, and certainly not Christ like in my delivery.  That's okay, I can accept that.  I'll even turn the other cheek to the contempt you may feel towards me for writing it.  But in the end know this. Sometimes tough love is the only love you're gonna get.  If we as a people had expressed some tough love to our friends, family and associates over the years behind us, we might not be in the fix we're in for the years ahead.  Patrick Swayze said in his "Road House" character.."There's a time to be nice, and then there's a time to not be nice".  Now would be the later... and it's time to look to your own.

A Raging Heart

Like many families across this nation, and as I've done before, I've called a family meeting this weekend.
My wife and I will have those of my kids in the area come together at my daughters house, which will hold us all, as mine won't any longer.
There we will gather to grieve for this great nation for a while. And then we will get down to business.
I have a smart bunch, they are all well versed and even tempered.  Though my daughter and I probably share more of the same temperament, and are likely the most effected by this situation, we all share a love for this country rivaled by few.
My two youngest sons, 18 and 21, had both considered joining the military.  I had hopes they would become Marines, and follow in my footsteps, but it wasn't so important which branch they decided on, as that they were satisfied with the decision.  However after watching our direction this last couple of years, I cautioned them on joining until after we saw what was going to happen with this election.  And, now much to my relief, I'm glad we waited.  I'd not want them to have this charlatan as their CIC.  I served under Reagan, and couldn't have been prouder, but I hold no regard, and less respect, for the empty chair.  They can better serve our country by my side.
We're going to meet this Sunday night, in one of our homes instead of in public, so we can speak freely about what we now know we need to do, and where none will have to place our back to an untrustworthy public.
We'll come up with a serious plan in the event the switch gets flipped, and I'll get a bit more intense about doing some training on repelling the wolves who will eventually be coming to the door.
My wife, my daughter and the boys will schedule to have concealed carry training and we'll plan on all brushing up on their marksmanship.  It's that serious.
We'll game plan about what we can do economically to ride out the storm, and what we can do realistically to fight back against those who pay-rolled this heist.  Namely our friendly media groups.  We'll figure out which products are acceptable to buy, which aren't, and what we'll do to recreate and where.
We'll put together a plan to shield the babies against the worst of what might occur, and how we can best protect them from the future that is sure to come.
Once we've done all that, we'll gather around the table, hold each other's hands, and pray that God brings a revival to this troubled land.  For it is surely broken, and only He can fix it.  There are only two things I'm sure of....God has a plan, and I haven't the foggiest idea what it is.
So we'll pray, and we'll wait, and we'll listen for some direction from Him.  In the meantime, there are some things that common sense tells us that can be done.  Those we'll do.
I have a raging heart right now, not only for the wrong that has been done by a faltering and feckless leadership, but also for the apathy and self centering's of the people of this country who brought that on. 
We have become a nation of takers without thought of the source, or the resources that we destroy in the process.  I did what I thought was enough over the last year by engaging, mostly through social networking, but also by face to face conversations, with people about what I thought was the right thing to do. I fought with my eldest son about accepting the tainted silver offered.  It appears that few, including him, listened to what was being said.
Whether they believe it or not, like gravity ensuring the apple hits the ground, a price will be paid for this election. A pity those of us who fought so hard to prevent it will still pay the price for those who encouraged it, but pay we will.
There will be little time in the future for whining about what has come to be, so we must get our grieving over soon, and move ahead.
I became a Marine at 20, I still am today, I have never renounced my oath to this country. I've spent a lifetime instilling in my family that sense of pride and patriotism...so they need no prodding now.
We will pray, we will plan, we will protect....and we will persevere. So help us God.

Breath of Warriors

I knew in my heart when I first heard the news of Benghazi that something was amiss.  As a Marine, as well as being an educated reader, the spin being played out just didn't fit the facts of what I know of the real world.

I've read enough literature about war, tactics, diplomacy and the way our foreign services work to know that the real time information available to our leaders is so much greater than what we realize that there was just no way this could be blamed on any of the talking points offered. The fog of war, delayed messages, lack of information...all of that was a load of garbage my common sense just couldn't get wrapped around.

So over the next few days and weeks, what came trickling out can be (at least to those who don't have their head inserted rectally) pieced together into a fraud and cover-up of epic proportions.

It has been said that the truth will always out.  Like water, it will seek it's own level.  Truth can only be hidden from the light for the duration that the lie hiding it can be supported.  In this case, a little over a month.

Mr. Obama, and his admin (and I say that would include the main stream media) have purported to hide this catastrophe from the American public for the sake of his re-election bid.  The actual reason(s) he did what he did will trickle out with this latest flow of information just as sure as the water seeks its level.  For the moment we are left with more questions than answers.  But this we know without any possible shadow of a doubt.  The man lied to this nation on live television for weeks.  Not only did he lie, but those who support him, from his personal assistants to the media responsible for publicizing any news about him correctly, lied to sustain his story.

I could speculate on any number of reasons why he chose to do what he did, but as a Marine, what he did is sufficient enough to scratch him forever from the category of human being.

The men who died were warriors.  They knew the risk in their profession.  But they also depended on a system of intelligence and technology to support them.  They asked for help, and were rejected.  Not just once, but three times.  In the end, they did what most American fighting men do when a REMF tells them to leave compatriots to die, they disobeyed orders and went anyway.  In this case, it cost them their lives.  But these are men who have more at stake than their lives in what they do.  They have honor.

With all the technology associated with the greatest nation on the face of the earth at his disposal, he chose to watch as a group of men, not just for the cause of this nation, but for their very lives as well, fought to the last breath.  And all that while both, he and they, knew there were things that could be done to prevent it. They died praying that in the next minute, the mortar they were targeting would blow up. That a Spectre would blast over-head raining death on their foes, that a platoon of Marines would support their own heroic fight.  But those prayers died on their lips.  Our POTUS, and his cronies, watched that happen. They watched as the breath of warriors was extinguished before their very eyes, and did nothing.

You must picture Barack Obama sitting in the situation room with his closest intelligence and military aides, watching the real time stream of what was happening, considering that sending in the cavalry would stain his record of supposedly decimating al Queda, and deciding it wasn't worth the lives being lost.  People looking to him for a yes or no, with reference to aide getting launched. In the end, he just said no, and went to bed.  After all, he had busy stuff going on the next day.

Now, maybe that isn't the scenario that played out.  Maybe he had a truly justified reason for letting those men die while he watched.  Whether he did, or didn't, does not excuse the lies he told the parents while standing over the coffins of the dead.  Nor does it excuse the horrible fabrication of the video scenario being pushed on the American people.

If Barack Obama wants to stump his re-election on trust, he just blew any chance of that happening.  And if for some remote reason, he is re-elected in spite of his performance on Benghazi, this nation will truly be plummeted into an abys of tyranny. I won't leave her, or abandon her, but I will do all in my power to resist until the water again seeks it's level.

As for Barack Hussein Obama, hell holds a special place for evil, conniving cowards.