All a man needs out of life is a place to sit ‘n’ spit in the fire.

Category: Current Events (Page 7 of 9)

Stuff that’s pop-tastic, pop-o-licious, and currently playing on FoxNews

Honorable Blade

I shall forever honor the tip of the sword, for how could I but honor such a perfect edge. It is as clean and sharp and brilliant as anything has ever been. No, my rancor is held for the dirty paw that wields it with such vulgarity and dishonor.

I am frequently asked if I would spit on the blade for its acts, its dealing of death, its bloodshed, or its willingness to do violence. What sort of fool asks such a thing? It does what it was designed to do: slice and slay.

Ah, but to throw hot spittle unto the beady-eyed twit that waves it around like a bright red banner, a beautiful sash to adorn his craven soul. If I could but spit in his eye, I would.

For the generation of swords whose surfaces are pitted with rust, dripping wet with the saliva of the masses, I spit on this troll for you.

What I Learned in Prison

Since I started as a chaplain in the juvenile prison system in Puerto Rico, about 5-6 years ago, there have only been a couple of kids that sent chills through me. There was a deadness in their eyes, something that made me immediately think, "God, I hope I don’t ever find myself face to face with this kid and on the wrong end of a gun." My mind flashed to the cold feeling of a pistol barrel thrust to the back of my head as I am carjacked. I took too long, I looked at him wrong, or he just wanted me out of the way. In any case, he pulled the trigger looking through me with those dead eyes. He didn’t care if I lived or died, didn’t really matter at all. I was not a person, just a thing, a plaything and in his way.  I was between him and what was now HIS car. Look at that, bullet holes. This thing got blood all over me. The holes look cool though. Let me dump it by the side of the road, wipe myself off.

Those were the thoughts that went through my mind on two occasions. Sometimes I meet with kids who are sullen, withdrawn, unresponsive, but there’s still something there, fear, trepidation, low self image. When I asked what they wanted to be when they grew up, they would say, "I dunno." When asked what their talents were, they would say none. Friends? Dunno. People you admire? None.

There was still something though.  It’s hard to try to pry something positive out of the experience, but I never felt like I wasn’t talking to a person, a real living breathing, but hurting and damaged person.

These other two that I met, though, I don’t know what they were, but I only remember never wanting to see them again.  They seemed to be soulless zombies, walking dead, animated bodies with nothing inside, no flickering light.

I am reminded of this after the Virginia Tech shooting and all the information about the shooter, Cho Seung Hui by all accounts, a sullen loner.

We all know people who keep to themselves, who aren’t sociable, friendly, or engaging. It’s not often, however, that we say to ourselves, I’m afraid of this person. I’m afraid he will do something horrible as was the case of the VT shooter. He had creeped out his teachers, his classmates. There was something not just sad about him but deadly.

I read the "plays" he had written, supposedly violent and disturbing. I didn’t find the violence disturbing. They were not actually very violent, in fact.

The plays were disturbing to me for their lack of natural dialog and oddness of language. The interaction between the characters was just wrong, weird, not natural. The anger wasn’t natural. It seemed stilted, like written by a small child with no understanding of conflict, someone stunted developmentally. His plays sounded to me like they had been written by someone from another culture, an alien with no comprehension of how a domestic dispute might go down and what might be said. So, while the plays had violent themes, what was disturbing was how far they missed their marks connecting that rage and emotion.

Cho Seung Hui couldn’t emote or understand emotion or have any empathy.  Maybe he sensed it.  Maybe he knew he couldn’t connect and it drove him mad.

Like those scary kids that I met, my only conclusion is that some people do not have the ability to see other’s pain, emotion, or feel a connection of any kind with the world around them. Are they born that way as psychopaths or shaped as sociopaths by abuse or violence and then become cold, disconnected, and inhuman?

Weighing in on Walter Reed and the Problem with Generals

I’ve got a bunch to say since Asier was born, but I wanted to weigh in on the Walter Reed scandal by telling a story from my experiences in the Army.

We were in the field, doing a training exercise. We had planned it for months and were executing it for some much needed operational training and team-building. As we were setting up I was notified by the battalion XO (operations) that we would have to stop what we were doing and go on a police call (cut grass, pick up any trash, paint, pretty up the range), because our the Division commander (General) was coming for a visit.

"Don’t you think he wants to see us training?" I asked.

"Just fucking do it, Captain!" was the Major’s reply. This was to be beginning of a beautiful friendship, for sure.

So we reluctantly dropped our months of preparation by the wayside and prettied up the range. My soldiers were extremely pissed. The 1SG fumed, but as all good soldiers, we went about, "making it happen."

Brigadier General Rosado arrived with his staff, CSM (Command Sergeant Major, top enlisted man in the division) and assorted sycophants. They walked around, buzzed in and circled, talking to no one but the top officers of the battalion, all the while insulated by his staff.

I’ve got to do something about this. I don’t fucking care if it gets me in trouble. I wormed my way up to the Command Sergeant Major and took him aside.

"Do you want to know what’s really going on here?" I asked him. "Do you want an honest assessment of the training and readiness of your battalion here and now?"

"Of course," he answered.

"Don’t tell us you’re coming. That’s it. Don’t announce, don’t make a big hullabaloo. Come here quietly, just the two of you, show up unexpectedly, and talk to the enlisted soldiers. Ask them what they think, get them to be frank. That’s all I ask."

"I’ll let him know," he replied.   The Sergeant Major seemed to be a thoughtful pro-enlisted guy, so I hoped that my comments were welcome. I think he really took them too heart. He seemed a decent fellow. This might work.

A few months latter the CSM resigned and from what I heard through the grapevine, it was over styles of leadership. The CSM wanted to get his hands dirtier. He wanted the hands-on pro-soldier approach that I suggested, but Gen Rosado, for whatever reason, would rather have had his little buzzing snapping field of sycophants.

Whatever.

I bring this up, because the Walter Reed scandal smacks of the same ol’ shit. Forget the fact that the General in charge of Walter Reed had only been there six months. Many are saying he is but a scapegoat. How could he have changed things in six months? Poor guy. It was his predecessor that screwed it all up. Why should he take the blame?

My question to him is this: How many times did you visit the facilities, directly inspect with no announcement to the staff working in those places, talk to patients, demand frank ugly reports from your subordinates? Six months is a long time to be unaware of the problem.

You weren’t fired for not fixing the problem. You were fired for not even knowing about the problem.

But unfortunately, this is the problem with much of the military. Gen Patton said it best, "The more senior the officer, the more time he has to go to the front." Why? Because that’s where the operation is and guess what, Mr. General, YOU’RE IN CHARGE! I’d also add that the more senior the officer, the less time he should give before an inspection. The General should want to know what is really going on in his command. He should trust nothing but his own eyes, his own perception. He is the General. He is in charge.

Stop grooming yourself for bigger and better things and DO YOUR FUCKING JOBS!

With that said, our new Secretary of the Defense, Robert Gates, is really getting on my good side. I like that guy’s attitude, very pro-soldier.

Some Unaware of King’s Dream

WP: Some unaware of King’s dream – washingtonpost.com Highlights – MSNBC.com

I’ve said it before ( In Observance of Martin Luther King Jr. Day ), but it seems to bear repeating.

Last night, I was at a party and one of the party goers, an American, mentioned that he had to leave.

"Oh, the party’s just getting started," I offered, hope to cajole him into staying.

"I have to get up at 4:30."

"You have to work tomorrow?! What? They are making you work on the birthday on one of the greatest Americans who ever lived?"

"Who might that be?" he asked with a frown.

"Um, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.," I replied, not sure what he was getting at.

He smirked, "Oh, him."

I was unsure if I had just experienced a racist moment. I suspect I had.

Societal Toxicity

I was watching CNN this afternoon. Featured was a young Palestinian-American living in Gaza.

"What’s it like?" the CNN reporter asked him. "Are you scared." She furrowed her brow with concern.

"It’s tough sometimes," the young man said with nary an accent, his skateboard dangling limply at his side, shoulders slack. "Yo, my buddy was almost blown up. It was like, messed up an’ stuff. This rocket, like, it came screaming in and almost hit us. Yo." We, the viewer, are treated to a little montage of our youthful ghetto urban kid from the "street" yo doing lame jumps around Gaza on his skateboard.

Then his mother comes on, Shelly "American Name hyphen Palestinian name." "I worry about him. It is dangerous here. But what are you going to do?"

And I’m thinkin’, GET THE HELL OUT OF GAZA, IDIOT! So here we have an American woman married to a Palestinian man, and the best living arrangement they could come up with was Gaza? WTF?

So okay, I’m thinking, benefit of the doubt time. Maybe they are international aid workers. Maybe he is well-educated and has a call to social work and civil justice. He cares about his people and wants to help them.

But then I thought about Chernobyl.

Yeah, Chernobyl.

Would you raise your kids there?

There’s a toxicity in the ground, in the air, in the water that isn’t going to dissipate for hundreds of years. The best thing you can do is leave. Barring that, you die. This is the same scenario for any one of the US Federal Superfund sites, communities laid to waste by greed, incompetence or ignorance. Guess what happens, folks. People pack it in and head for the hills. The ground’s been spoiled. The land isn’t worth having. It sucks, but we’d rather be alive someplace else then die young from non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma or have our kids born retarded and/or with missing or extra digits.

So it makes perfect sense to leave. You do not want to raise your kids in a toxic environment because it will make them sick and they will suffer and die.

You do not want to raise your children in an environment of violence, hatred, and poverty because it will make them sick and they will suffer and die. Living in such a place will make you just as sick as if it was pesticides, mercury, or uranium.

Why do we have so little insight into societal toxicity? What happens when a culture, region, or neighborhood is so overwhelmed with hatred, violence, crime, and oppression that it becomes impossible to grow up healthy and unaffected by the mutagenic qualities of the environment? Why do we as stubborn idiot humans feel some sort of social responsibility to the land and/or the community? How come the help we feel we need to render is something other than a ride out of the place?

An environmental worker explains, holding an intricate cylindrical device connected to a number of brightly colored tubes, "You see, resident, we just need to filter the water through this special radiological filter – don’t forget to change it every 3 months *nervous laugh*, and make sure that you don’t go outside without your dust mask. And don’t touch the dirt. Oh, yeah, you can’t hunt either. All animal life is carrying alpha emitters. Oh, yeah, make sure you sleep face down with a sheet over your head and put tape over all points in your home where there is air infiltration: door jam, windows, etc."

"Um, miss, we just want to leave. Can we go someplace else?"

"Why would you want to do that. This is YOUR land."

"Yeah, but my, um, urine glows."

"Who’s a mister negative. You just have to make it better. Where’s your sense of responsibility?"

"It left with my hair."

So you see it doesn’t make any sense in Chernobyl, why should it make any more sense in Palestine, the favelas in Brazil, La Perla in Puerto Rico, North St. Louis, or Iraq, or any place else that has been spoiled completely by societal toxicity.

Get out, get far away, let the half life of hate and despair take its toll on the area. Let it return to its placid state. Once the haters have killed each other, you might be able to move back and reclaim the land, but it’s going to be a long time. Don’t expect it in your lifetime. All forms of toxicity take generations to dissipate, hate included.

Why the Military Doesn’t Want More Troops in Iraq

Well, actually they do want more troops in Iraq, but it’s just that commanders want so many more, that another 30,000 may as well be zero. The problem once again is rhetoric. Military commanders are loudly sounding off that they do not want more troops in Iraq. How does this reconcile with claims by these same military commanders and analysts that we went in with too few troops?

Observe this behind closed doors exchange with the Decider:

Bush: How many more do you boys need to pacify Iraq?  I’m all ears and willing to do what it takes to go forward.

Commander: 300,000 minimum. We coulda done it with less going in, but now we’re going to need to ramp up to 500,000 to get the job done.

Bush: Hmmm, I hear ya.  I hear ya, but I can only spare you 30,000. 30,000 more is all the political capital I have to spend. Politics won’t allow me to send more than 30,000. Ya see, that number 30,000? It’s all I can send.  I’ve decided.

Commander: Well then you can keep ’em. Don’t send ANY then. 30,000 is like zero – exactly like zero, except that there are going to be more bodies sent home. Casualties will increase with zero increase in effectiveness.

Bush: Son, listen, this is politics. You just be a good soldier and put these boys to good use in the war on terror, guarding Haliburton facilities, etc. We’re going to win, you hear! I’ve decided it!

Commander: Whatever you say, sir. *salutes leaves*

How to Win the War in Al Anbar

Chris Penningroth’s Weltanschauung » A Short Memorial to Two Fallen Brothers

Chris has a memorial post up about CPT Travis Patriquin.  I didn’t know the guy, but as I read more of the links and got to his now famous powerpoint presentation, I was blown away.  We need to listen to this guy.  Forget the Iraq Study Group’s recommendations and just look at this dead simple document about what needs to be done.  I don’t doubt that CPT Patriquin understood the subject matter.  As one of perhaps the only fluent Arabic speakers on the ground, his recommendations hit home with the simplicity of a subject perfectly understood.

Iran president bans usage of foreign words – Mideast/N. Africa – MSNBC.com

Iran president bans usage of foreign words – Mideast/N. Africa – MSNBC.com

Haha, I almost fell out of my chair laughing when I read this hysterical sky is falling headline. Oh, look at those fascists Iranians. They are xenophobic. They are trying to ban language. This is big. Look how much better we — err, um.

Of course, the comical irony of this "look how whacked they are" story, is that we are trying to do the same thing in the US. Now, I will grant, it is a question of degrees, but I think most Americans support a ban on the use of Spanish in the US. They know it’s probably an impossible task, but we want to make it as hard as possible for those dirty immigrants who cheapen our country as we continue our spiral into isolation.

Make them fill out forms in English. Make the driver test in English. Take away bi-lingual requirements for government. Ban informal or formal use of Spanish within government offices and schools (remember the kid who got suspended for speaking Spanish with a friend at school?).

What the hell are you people afraid of?

Let me answer that for you: the same thing as the Iranians, people who are different from you.

We’re really not so different. Maybe that should be the basis of our next diplomatic talks. Well, Mr. Ahmadinejad, let’s focus on our common ground. One thing we share is our fear of foreigners. Let’s start there, shall we?

Who Owns Your Rights?

From the Fourteenth Amendment of the Constitution of the United States

No state shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any state deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.

From the Declaration of Independence of the United States

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. –That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed,

Why do I bring this up?  Recently the debate has been raging about what rights are afforded to undocumented workers or illegal immigrants, sometimes inhumanely referred to as “illegals.”  The heart of the debate, if it can be said to have one at all, is that only citizens are afforded the rights protected by the Constitution.

If you are not a citizen, then you are out of luck.

The power of the Constitution comes neither from the government itself nor the People.  James Madison seems to agree with me.

“Because if . . . [An Unalienable Natural Right of Free Men] . . . be exempt from the authority of the Society at large, still less can it be subject to that of the Legislative Body. The latter are but the creatures and vicegerents of the former. Their jurisdiction is both derivative and limited: It is limited with regard to the coordinate departments, more necessarily is it limited with regard to the constituents. The preservation of a free Government requires, not merely, that the metes and bounds which separate each department of power be invariably maintained: but more especially that neither of them be suffered to overleap the greater Barrier which defends the rights of the people. The Rulers who are guilty of such an encroachment, exceed the commission from which they derive their authority, and are Tyrants. The people who submit to it are governed by laws made neither by themselves nor by an authority derived from them, and are Slaves — James Madison, June 1785.

What he is saying is that the People are capricious, and since the government is an extension of the people then it too is capricious.  It [the government] cannot be trusted with our most important gifts of creation.

I think some clue to the whole puzzle of where our rights come from, how they apply, and to whom they apply is contained in the Declaration of Independence.  “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…”  Unalienable: non-transferable, unable to destroy, eradicate, or remove.  That is to say, if you are human you have these rights whether you want them or not and no one can legally take them away.  Of course if someone uses force to subject you, no legal order gives them authority, and we the People of the United States with the authority of the Constitution, shall protect you and restore to you your proper rights.

The Declaration of Independence, in my mind, can be seen as the spirit under which was formed the whole of our union.  It was the mission statement, frame of reference, or inspiration from which all the founding documents flowed.

These rights we have as a person are in all ways incontrovertible.  The mention of a Creator, I believe, is simply an acknowledgment of “other than the ways of men.”  It could have easily said, “You, by the fact of your birth in the Universe, have the following rights, none of which is granted to you by us, our representatives, or their agents.”  We the government are not the authority giving  you these rights, we the government of the people simply acknowledge them and pledge to protect them from others that would seek to subvert these rights.

In short, we didn’t invent these rights, we just protect them.

It bears mentioning again.  The government IS NOT the authority for your rights as a human being.  It took a while, but the fourteenth amendment to the Constitution is the part that finally spelled it out.  We’d spent nearly a century assuming, but no longer, the XIV was going to nail it down with railroad spikes.  Let there by no doubt.  “…nor shall any state deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.”

There is no distinction there for citizen/non-citizen.  We the people of the United States recognize that the rights of man are not beholden to the whimsy of the public or the government.  The People and by its extension, the government, have no authority to grant, rescind, or amend these rights.

Again, the Constitution and the government and its laws protect these rights but neither grant them nor bestow them.

The next time you hear some shill talking about the Constitution not protecting illegal immigrants or granting to us something it does not grant to them, be wary, for if the Constitution has the power to NOT grant rights to those other people, than from where does the authority for your rights come?  The Constitution?  I don’t think so.

To keep these rights from illegal immigrants is to subvert your own rights.  I don’t know about you, but MY rights do not come from the Constitution.  The Constitution simply exhorts you/us to protect these rights that are bestowed upon us by “other than man.”  You have them because you exist.

To fight for the rights of illegal immigrants is to fight for your very own rights.  I, for one, have no interest in granting authority for my liberty to the US Government.  I hold it on my own as a person.  The People have pledged to protect those rights whether you be natural born or an alien, for it is the people we are, a people who love liberty, a people who wish for none to be subjugated under the unlawful heel of tyranny or injustice.

Unalienable rights apply everywhere in the world in all nations, but it is only within our borders that they are protected by the Consitution.  It is only here where we have the authority to enforce these rights as a people.  The day that we apply a different standard to visitors, tourists, people of other nations living in working in America than we apply to our own citizens is the day that we subvert the true intent of the Constitution.

My Fellow Americans…

No American president has ever said this, and no American president ever will.  Because I am impatient, I shall invent one who does. 

My fellow Americans, I stand before you today, not as your president, not as the Commander in Chief, but as your dear friend, your best friend who really cares about you and must tell you something you do not want to hear.  I will say it here today, because and only because I care deeply about America.

I stand here as someone who must remind us all today what it means to be American.  If you will permit me into your living rooms, I shall speak my piece and take the consequences as they may befall me.  I have kept quiet long enough.  It is time that we heard the truth about what it means to be an American.

But first, let me dispel some myths. 

It is NOT our language of English.  It is not our culture, whatever that means.  It not whiteness, blackness, latin-ness, chinese-ness, or any other -ness.  We are not American because we drive big cars or trucks.  We are not Americans because we love to buy.  We are most certainly NOT American because we shop at Wal-mart.  We are not American by virtue of keeping Mexicans from our shores, or waving the American flag, singing the national anthem, or pledging our allegiance.  I could go on.

Do I need to go on? 

The things that make us American are the intangibles, not how we look, or speak, nor what we have, acquire, or even what we build.   What makes us American, my fellow Americans, is the resolute fact that we have a willingness to fail, that we have the opportunity to fail.

To be an American means to risk failure, and to fail not once, or twice, but repeatedly.  Our failure rate, is directly proportional to our forward progress.  Show me someone adverse to risk and I will show you someone who has done nothing, and will never do anything.  He is happy, complacent, and content – content in his mediocrity.  He is a useless sort, and we do not want him here in America.

Unfortunately, we are beginning to grow more and more of these types right here on our own shores.  We are happy.  We have lots of nice things.  My fellow Americans, I have nice things.  You have nice things.   We enjoy a standard of living the far exceeds the majority of the world.  That is great and wonderful to be sure, but I see some slippage.  We, my fellow Americans, have become risk averse.  We ask that others assume the risk.  When others come and are willing to risk death, poverty, and discrimination, we malign them for they remind us of what we have lost.  It is our shame that causes us to call out to them, ‘Go home, you dirty immigrants,’  for we have forgotten our proud dirty immigrant past.  Shame on us.  Shame on me.

We shall not dishonor our ancestors in that fashion.  I shall not dishonor my ancestors in that fashion.

We Americans have lost the will to live, the hunger that made America great.   We have lost the willingness to put it all on the line.

What does this American president propose?  I will tell you.  I want immigrants that are fed up with tyranny, poverty, sickness, despots, corruption, death and mayhem to pack their bags and get to America.  Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.  Just get here.

And I do mean all of you.  No quotas, no limits, no restrictions.

I want these immigrants to come to our shores, for the opportunity to earn a living, working hard, and gaining a purpose in this life.  They are no longer cattle to be lead to a slaughter.  They are to be no longer seen as simply the listless masses upon whom tin-pot dictators reap their blessings in the form of death, persecution, and abject poverty.

We Americans see you, people of the world, as human capital.  Whereas others see you as drains on government pension funds, a lot to be taken care of or robbed or just a burden, we in America see your value.  You are not a drain, you are an asset. 

You are a national treasure.

And we have forgotten it, my fellow Americans, we have forgotten to treasure our immigrants.  I ask, can a person have too much treasure?

Every life that wants to produce, that wants to be useful, because that is all any of us could ever ask, shall have that opportunity right here, right here in this great immigrant land of ours.

I can hear it now, my fellow Americans, ‘They will bring down wages, they will subvert our way of life.  We cannot absorb so many.’ 

Historically Americans believed that economic progress and prosperity were a result of the free land to our west.  When things got tough, we opened up more land, and folks rolled up their sleeves, moved and worked that land to bring more riches to America.  The fact of free land was a compelling reason for Americans to believe our nation was wealthy.  I ask, however, what good is land without human hands to work it?  Franklin D. Roosevelt once said:

We are not able to invite the immigration from Europe to share our endless plenty. We are now providing a drab living for our own people.

Which is, of course, a logical fallacy and begs the question, why should we believe that immigrants come to share endless plenty.  That land could have lain bare for another thousand years without putting a single cent in a bank account, happily.   The immigrants were the source of that plenty during the years of westward expansion, for it was their hands that cultivated the soil, that shaped the landscape, and caused it to yield untold riches.  Immigrants come to create endless plenty.

It was immigrants, my fellow Americans.  They were the riches.

Let me address the former criticism of wages.  I hope immigrants do lower wages.  Lower wages get people off their couches.  Lower wages stimulate new thinking.  If we have to compete with lower wages, we have got to think of ways to cut costs, innovate, or fail. That’s the American way.  And two, I ask, what IS the American way if its not to re-purpose international assets to our benefit.   Let me paint a tiny picture of what I’m talking about. 

Say, I am an African dictator and I am robbing my people blind.  I am taxing what little they have to build myself palaces and buy cars and support my harems of women.  I am a small-minded fool and shall soon be parted from my wealth. 

Half my country then leaves.  They take up residence in America where that first generation works happily in menial labor jobs and earns more in a day than they did in a whole month or year in their country.  Fast forward to their children’s generation, educated, hard working, and born of a spirit that there are so many possibilities.  These people will take us to scientific greatness.  They will build better cars.  They will build better buildings.  They will become amazing educators, thinkers, business people, you name it.  They do not complain.  They do not whine.  They do not sue.  They are just thankful that they are not dying, starving in some nameless ditch in some forgotten land.  They wake up every day, thanking their god, that they have had this opportunity.  They revere their lives.  They revere our land.  They revere their kind neighbors.  This my friends, is paradise, an immigrant paradise.  All they need is a chance.

Meanwhile our little African dictator takes a peek from afar, sees the riches upon which he had sat and covered with excrement.  It was, in fact, a pile of gold, a pile of gold that far outstripped the production of even his biggest gold and diamond mines.  What was he thinking? A fool he is.

And what should we be thinking.  How can we NOT absorb such riches.  It is a windfall.  It is a boon.  We should dance and sing and make merry for our good fortune.  We seized half of a country’s riches and never had to fire a single bullet.  Genghis Khan would have been befuddled by such a brilliant scheme.

Is there ever too much good fortune?

So come here.  Come and bring to us your enthusiasm.  We will give you a chance to succeed.  We will give you a chance to fail.  But you can pick yourself up and try something else.  Because in America you make your own destiny as you see it.

And, my fellow Americans, they are going to make us uncomfortable.  Change is tough.  They will challenge our ideas.  I say then, we will get over it and we must stop whining.  We must learn from them – learn how we used to be and start taking risks, thankful for every single day that we have in this great land of ours.

I thank you for listening, my fellow Americans.

« Older posts Newer posts »

© 2025 El Gringoqueño

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑