President Pipsqueak?

Don't look at me. I didn't say it. Though I'm not denying the point.

That's what John Podhoretz at the New York Post is afraid will be Obama's legacy - being a pipsqueak. I say now is the time to fear for the nation, not the President's political future. But I'm weird like that.

In the midst of this perfect storm of world catastrophe, what we know about Obama is...NOT his decision on Libya, NOT his future plans on the fallout from Japan; not to mention, NOT his plans to lower fuel prices, stabilize the financial market (the Dow dropped 240 points today), cut spending (our debt rose $78Billion yesterday - yes, in one day), or keep the food prices from skyrocketing (they rose 3.9% - highest jump in 36 years - last month).

What we do know about Obama is that he picked Duke for one of those NCAA bracket thingies and that he's heading to Rio for a speech and then taking the family sightseeing, a long awaited break after all the work he's been putting in on his golf swing.

He's like an actor thrown into the real-life role of his character and he thinks the show's writers are back in the conference room revamping the script. So he's stalling until his lines show.

This is not a leader.

Sadly, however, we only get one President at a time and he's it. He obviously doesn't want the job right now. There are many who don't want him to have the job right now. But he does. And that's that.

So time to do it. Right now.

Here a brief preview of what the Post's Podhoretz is asking:

Where is the president? The world is beset. Moammar Khadafy is moving relentlessly to crush the Libyan revolt that once promised the overthrow of one of the world's most despicable regimes.

So where is the president?

Japan may be on the verge of a disaster that dwarfs any we have yet seen. A self-governing nation like the United States needs its leader to take full measure of his position at times of crises when the path forward is no longer clear.

This is not a time for leadership; this is the time for leadership.

So where is Barack Obama?

The moment demands that he rise to the challenge of showing America and the world that he is taking the reins. How leaders act in times of unanticipated crisis, in which they do not have a formulated game plan and must instead navigate in treacherous waters, defines them.

Obama is defining himself in a way that will destroy him.

Except in the eyes of the Duke players.

The power of ONE voice. When it has something to say.

This is what one informed, reasonable voice can do. Only one. And they couldn't prove him wrong.

Elliot Fladen, a graduate of Stanford Law School and Northwestern University with Economics Major, defended his Libertarian views, as well as the Tea Party stance, on unions during a pro-union rally in Denver on Saturday.

He was alone among hundreds. Yet they could give him no arguments other than name calling, booing, and flipping him off. Why couldn't they give one reasonable argument?

Truth only needs one voice. It'll take care of the results.



My favorite? When the man began screaming "fascist" in Elliot's face then got sucker-punched when Elloit simply asked him, "Do you know what 'fascist' means?"

Uh....

"Put the microphone down and go home"

Take that. And that. And that, some more. My new political crush: Rep. Allen West.



The man asking the ridiculous question, and it is utterly ridiculous, is Nezar Hamze, Executive Director of the Council for American Islamic Relations (CAIR). He stands there whining about "words" people. Words.

Golly. Why can't we just be nicer? Huh? If an Islamic extremist wants to cut off your head, the least you can do is smile and be cordial.

CAIR wants better American/Islamic relations? Well, I've got a few suggestions. Trifle things, really.

1. Condemn suicide bombers and terrorists. Condemn them publicly. Then do it again. And again. And...I don't know...again. Keep doing it. Be the loudest voice condemning this evil.

2. Work with federal, state and local governments to root out and identify mosques promoting extremist views.

3. Publicly and financially support war efforts and democracy efforts to free Muslims from extremists in places like Iraq, Afganistan, Iran, Sudan, Tunisia, etc., etc.

4. Actively protect Muslim women from abuse at the hands of their husbands. Also, try and get those dads to stop running over their daughters. Just a thought.

5. And this is the last one. This is it. Stop acting as if you are the one being persecuted. You aren't. Stop getting your undies in an uproar over words (which, by the way, are true) and care, instead, about the violence being perpetrated from Muslim extremists on anyone not like them.

You do that, and Americans will be your BFFs.

Steven Crowder: the Thuggyest Thugs that ever Thuggeryed

I want new black dress shoes. I need them, actually. My hips hurt in the ones I own. I need those dress shoes to wear in client meetings. I must have them. I deserve them because I need them.

So I'm going to the shoe store. I'm going to pick out the best pair of shoes I can find.

I deserve that, too.

Then, I'm going to demand the other customers in the store take up a collection to pay for these shoes. Everyone will have to pay. No one leaves until they donate a percentage of the money they have for shoes to my shoe purchase.

If that means they don't have the money for their own shoes, bummer. My shoe demands come first.

Then, every year, I'm going to do it again. Next year I will probably need two new pair.

I need white ones, too.

Welcome to the public sector union mentality. Just a fancy name for legalizing pick pocketing.

Atlas Shrugged, the Movie

Well, golly. I'm excited. I really am.



When Passion of the Christ came out, my family went to watch it and then had dinner after to discuss. I remember asking my father, while diving into a bowl of chips and salsa, what he thought about people criticizing some of the artistic license Mel Gibson took, like the opening scene of Jesus with the snake in the garden.

My father said something rather brilliant, as he always does. "I'm not going to criticize him for producing a story about Jesus when I haven't done it. Too often, we like to sit back, do nothing, and criticize others who are doing something worthwhile."

In other words, for those on the right so badly wanting a movie that reflects their free-market ideology who are already finding minor points of contention because the movie wasn't done how they'd do it, well...you should probably just zip it.

Until, of course, you make an Atlas Shrugged movie of your own.

Check out the website and prepare for the April 15 premiere. I'll be there

Cracked like an Egg

He said something needed to break, a statement he made right after snapping my hip like a twig. Chiropractors always astound me with their ability to twist your spine like bubble wrap and send you off feeling better.

It'd been a long week. The middle of a long month, actually.

Snow had kept me from getting any help after my sacrum decided to take a stroll outside the socket. Every year and a half or so, for no particular reason at all, my spine gets bored with being aligned and my hip decides to do a walk about, see the sights, try a new adventure, and find out for itself whether there isn't a better party happening somewhere else.

When it happened this last time, there wasn't a lot I could do about it other than whine and complain and roll around on the floor trying to find that magical combination of leg stretches and back twists and pinky movements that would miraculously shove anything outside it's God-designed position back in again.

I didn't find it.

Finally, after my scale of pain went from a three to a nine and jumping off my porch roof was the only thing left I hadn't tried, a friend rescued me with a 4-wheel drive vehicle and a chiro appointment.

My hero.

As recovery has stopped and started and stopped again and started back again and still I find myself walking around with a ziplock of ice strapped to my side, I keep hearing those words: Something had to break.

Oh really.

He didn't mean it as a life lesson, only a statement about my hip bone. Still, I've thought about it a lot.

Something had to break.

It seemed so brilliant, in a macabre way.

Something had to break.

There are a few "something"s in my life. Probably yours, too. Like preconceived notions, preconceived plans, a desire you shouldn't have, a want you don't need, a belief about yourself that simply isn't true, ignorance about yourself that needs some truth, a feeling of inadequacy or lethargy or general malaise. Who knows, maybe you simply need to snap out of the monotony in your life to remember why you love it.

"It" being you're life, that is.

I can relate. I have a few of those. Anything from plans for myself that aren't going according to the plan, to ceilings I've constructed that simply need to rot and crumble to the ground. When I look, when I really look, I can see that something has to break.

And, honestly, that just blows.

Breaks are painful. There's discomfort and swelling and lots of time to find blame, find self-pity, or find yourself mourning. Then there's the healing, which always takes so blooming long, and all the work needed for recovery, which takes so much blooming energy.

Then there's the rebuilding part. That means sweating through the reconstruction and finding stronger made materials. It also requires accepting your reconstruction plans might also get scrapped in the middle of the project for a design far superior. All of it taking you back to square one.

And it means finally accepting the fact your current path simply wasn't working as is.

So something had to break.

Who knows what that means for my wayward hip. Maybe it'll realize I love it best of all and come home. Perhaps that means some of the strongholds in my life don't have to be so strong.

Perhaps it means, despite my previous or even current belief, I'm stronger than what I think. It was just that one bone. One out of many. And all it needed was a gentle, perfectly placed, divinely timed, c-r-a-c-k.

Maybe as early as tomorrow I won't even notice the scar.

Quote Them: Rush to Excellence

Obama is the architect of this spending, and he opens his presser saying we have to live within our means. This is like Col. Sanders saying, 'We gotta stop killing chickens!'

Rush Limbaugh,
being who he is,
doing what he does