They all tell me the same thing. Every time I've sat with a veteran, especially those legendary heroes from World War II, they all say the same thing, "I had it easy. There were a lot of men who gave so much more than me."
From around the world to across the battlefield, they've been to them all, each place a hell of death and a war for freedom. And still they honor their fellow soldiers more than themselves.
In my career, the hours I've spent with veterans has always been my highlight and my joy. So today, on Veterans Day, all I can say is "thank you." And it isn't enough.
Here's a WWII veteran tribute from Reason.TV. I dare you not to cry.
THANK YOU VETERANS. Each of you. My life has been possible because of you. I cannot repay the debt. All I can do is never forget, always honor, and forever fight for this great country and what it represents: the only home of freedom for mankind.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
God in 60 Days....or your money back
Andrew Klavan. Dang. That's funny.
Christians aren't creative? Shush it. Instead of resorting to lewd sex jokes and, oh, more sex jokes, and then when we need another laugh, throwing in another joke about...hmmm...sex, Christian artists actually use this melon shaped mass located in their melon called....wait for it...their brain. That's right boys and girls. Their brain.
Today, sweating away at the only place where I can afford to watch cable - my gym, I caught the advertisement of a new show on some inconsequential network. What's the premise? It's about a college boy who...yep, has sex. That's it. He plays football and has sex. Nothing more to see here folks.
Isn't that entertaining! And creative! So creative. How do writers and producers and networks come up with these unfathomable narratives like a college boy obsessed with nothing but playing football and spreading STD's!?
It's pure genius.
I changed the channel before the advertisement ended. Then I threw up a little in my mouth.
Christians aren't creative? Shush it. Instead of resorting to lewd sex jokes and, oh, more sex jokes, and then when we need another laugh, throwing in another joke about...hmmm...sex, Christian artists actually use this melon shaped mass located in their melon called....wait for it...their brain. That's right boys and girls. Their brain.
Today, sweating away at the only place where I can afford to watch cable - my gym, I caught the advertisement of a new show on some inconsequential network. What's the premise? It's about a college boy who...yep, has sex. That's it. He plays football and has sex. Nothing more to see here folks.
Isn't that entertaining! And creative! So creative. How do writers and producers and networks come up with these unfathomable narratives like a college boy obsessed with nothing but playing football and spreading STD's!?
It's pure genius.
I changed the channel before the advertisement ended. Then I threw up a little in my mouth.
Monday, November 9, 2009
20 years ago today the fall of Berlin Wall
Freedom prevailed. In the face of insurmountable odds and unfathomable evil, America and it's Western Europe allies brought about the fall of the Berlin Wall and the end of Communism.
If we've forgotten or perhaps never learned, here's a reminder in breathtaking color:
I remember that morning. And I have my mother to thank.
It was just before school, I was in the bathroom finishing my hair. My mother called me to her bedroom, where she sat on the edge of her bed glued to the television.
That was an odd sight in itself. Mom was too busy in the mornings fixing breakfast and getting everyone out the door to stop.
Yet she stopped.
"Come in here," she yelled. "I want you to see this."
I walked in, seeing images of a large, graffiti enriched wall being busted into pieces.
"Never forget today. This is a monumental moment in history, Tara. Today, Communism died. Don't ever forget. Remember it. You'll understand the fullness of what this moment means as you get older."
And I did.
That moment, not fully understanding why this meant so much to my mother, I marked it in my memory. Something had happened that day. A shift had occurred. Freedom and goodness had overcome evil. People cheered and smiled and cried, a collaboration of relief and promise I could not grasp. I knew nothing but freedom. I understood nothing but individual rights.
Yet there they were, throngs of them climbing and chipping away at a brick wall, more aware of what I possessed than myself.
We haven't experienced the full extent of communistic oppression, though the fringe left thirsts for it. Despite the interference and dictations of government, we're still a free people, free in our very blood, and rightfully endowed with our Creator's plan for humanity.
It isn't far off, however. It isn't all that distant a memory until we, too, could forgo our most humanistic trait of being free, all in the name of compassion that kills and tolerance that imprisons. Our own President and Vice-President are too busy to attend this event, too otherwise occupied to honor the end of governmental slavery and death.
We, the people and breath of this great nation, cannot forget.
Therefore, like my mother before me, I implore you to remember this day. Remember the mark of this great victory. Remember the empty taste of freedom than never quenched until that oppressive wall crumbled into chalky dust. Remember that we once had a President who fought for such things, a President who earnestly believed in the right of mankind to govern themselves under God. A President who shouted the words that resonate across time and corrupt governance:
Here is that infamous speech which sent the first crack into that cemented symbol of oppression.
And two years later, the wall came down.
If we've forgotten or perhaps never learned, here's a reminder in breathtaking color:
I remember that morning. And I have my mother to thank.
It was just before school, I was in the bathroom finishing my hair. My mother called me to her bedroom, where she sat on the edge of her bed glued to the television.
That was an odd sight in itself. Mom was too busy in the mornings fixing breakfast and getting everyone out the door to stop.
Yet she stopped.
"Come in here," she yelled. "I want you to see this."
I walked in, seeing images of a large, graffiti enriched wall being busted into pieces.
"Never forget today. This is a monumental moment in history, Tara. Today, Communism died. Don't ever forget. Remember it. You'll understand the fullness of what this moment means as you get older."
And I did.
That moment, not fully understanding why this meant so much to my mother, I marked it in my memory. Something had happened that day. A shift had occurred. Freedom and goodness had overcome evil. People cheered and smiled and cried, a collaboration of relief and promise I could not grasp. I knew nothing but freedom. I understood nothing but individual rights.
Yet there they were, throngs of them climbing and chipping away at a brick wall, more aware of what I possessed than myself.
We haven't experienced the full extent of communistic oppression, though the fringe left thirsts for it. Despite the interference and dictations of government, we're still a free people, free in our very blood, and rightfully endowed with our Creator's plan for humanity.
It isn't far off, however. It isn't all that distant a memory until we, too, could forgo our most humanistic trait of being free, all in the name of compassion that kills and tolerance that imprisons. Our own President and Vice-President are too busy to attend this event, too otherwise occupied to honor the end of governmental slavery and death.
We, the people and breath of this great nation, cannot forget.
Therefore, like my mother before me, I implore you to remember this day. Remember the mark of this great victory. Remember the empty taste of freedom than never quenched until that oppressive wall crumbled into chalky dust. Remember that we once had a President who fought for such things, a President who earnestly believed in the right of mankind to govern themselves under God. A President who shouted the words that resonate across time and corrupt governance:
Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!
Here is that infamous speech which sent the first crack into that cemented symbol of oppression.
And two years later, the wall came down.
Planned Parenthood director now Pro-Life
Abby Johnson watched an abortion procedure. That's all it took. She left her job as the executive director of a Planned Parenthood facility and is now campaigning with the Pro-Life movement. Her description of that event will break your heart.
And my job was to hold the ultrasound probe on this woman's abdomen so that the physician could actually see the uterus on the ultrasound screen. And when I looked at the screen, I saw a baby on the screen. And she was about 13 weeks pregnant at the time. And I saw a full side profile. So I saw face to feet on the ultrasound machine. And I saw the probe going into the woman's uterus. And at that moment, I saw the baby moving and trying to get away from the probe...Abby says if more Planned Parenthood clinic workers actually witnessed the procedure, they would be running for the door.
And I thought, "It's fighting for its life."
Keep talking Abby. God has given you a message in defense of life.
You can see the full interview on Huckabee at Ms. Underestimated blog, link below.
Curtsy to Ms. Underestimated and Newsbusters
Monday, November 2, 2009
Are we John Galt?
It may not be as thick as the PelosiCare bill, but Atlas Shrugged is an evidently timeless piece of capital conceptualism wound tightly in a book thick enough to crack a toe. The world of Ayn Rand's heroine, Dagny Taggart, so easily resembles today's emotional egotists in government, you wonder if the woman had powers of prognostication.
Ayn, what do we do next?
The answer is in the book. And since I have friends in the middle of reading Atlas Shrugged, I won't spoil the ending. Or the middle. Or the beginning, for that matter.
Reason.TV is discussing Rand and her ideas, which I completely agree with minus her views on religion and God (which, sadly, were completely misconstrued). Reason leads you to believe in God, not attempt to ignore Him. Good luck with that, by the way.
Ayn Rand
author of Atlas Shrugged
(1905-1982)
Ayn, what do we do next?
The answer is in the book. And since I have friends in the middle of reading Atlas Shrugged, I won't spoil the ending. Or the middle. Or the beginning, for that matter.
Reason.TV is discussing Rand and her ideas, which I completely agree with minus her views on religion and God (which, sadly, were completely misconstrued). Reason leads you to believe in God, not attempt to ignore Him. Good luck with that, by the way.
"We are fast approaching the stage of the ultimate inversion: the stage where the government is free to do anything it pleases, while the citizens may act only by permission; which is the stage of the darkest periods of human history, the stage of rule by brute force."
Ayn Rand
author of Atlas Shrugged
(1905-1982)
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