Tag Archives: politics

Walt Won’t Talk About Religion, But Will Talk About Politics

th2X1RX0QA(A perfect conversation for Ray)

Two men sat in an all-night diner on a lonely stretch of highway somewhere between Minot and nowhere. Both men, truck drivers, forced from the road by a blinding blizzard. It was just them and the guy behind the counter named Moose.

The place was the quintessential greasy-spoon, greasy knife, greasy fork, and dirty cup. It had character and cheap tasty food. Drivers drove out of the way for the corned beef hash.

After sitting couple of stools apart the two man decided to sit within normal conversation distance.

“Looks as if we may be stuck here a couple of days,” Ray said. “My name is Ray,” and extended his hand. “At least that‘s what the radio says.”

“Walt,” he said shaking Ray’s hand. “At least we ain’t gonna starve to death. Who ya drive for?”

“Pathway,” Ray said. “And you?”

“Midwest out of Chicago,” Walt said. “How long ya been drivin’?”

“This spring it will be 14 years,” Ray said.

“22,” Walt said. “I suppose between the two of us we’ve seen it all.”

Ray chuckled. “And than some.”

“Driving has changed,” Walt said. “It’s gotten a lot better. Equipment is better, roads are better, but the damned people; my god, they are full of rage when they get on the road. Sometimes I have to pull over to keep myself from getting upset – take a breather, read something, or take a short walk.”

“I’ve noticed the same thing,” Ray said. “Do you think there is any truth to what the Bible says that in the last days people will display a lack of love and goodness?”

“I’m sorry, Ray,” Walt said. “But I like you a lot, but there’s two things I don’t talk about and that’s religion and politics.”

Ray smiled. “I got three kids; 10, 13, and 16.”

“I got two,” Walt said. “One in college and the other one tryin’ to figure out which way to put the toilet paper on the holder.”

“I know what you mean,” Ray said. “I have some friends with older kids. They tell me they never really grow up, or as they put it you never let them grow up. They’re always kids to you.”

The night wore on with Ray and Walt sipping coffee and meandering to one of the windows observing the blowing snow and how deep it was around their trucks.

“It’s up around my grill,” Walt said. “Two years ago north of Cheyenne my cab was covered.”

“I’ve had it up to my doors,” Ray said. “But never over my cab.”

“I’d like to take some of those global warming nut jobs out there and rub their noses in some of this fluffy white global warming,” Walt said. “It’s something they made up just to get more money out of people’s pockets. It’s all about money and power. Wall Street made-up derivatives out of thin air for no other reason than to hoodwink the public. They just used what politicians have been doing for years; making stuff up to get more money from the working man.”

“It does seem like a lot of deception goes on,” Ray said.

“Yeah,” Walt said. “And it’s everywhere in government. I think we have to elect good Christian people who have morals and values. People who won’t lie and cheat. Don‘t you think so.”

“Well,” Ray said. “They aren’t much different than you and I.”

“I’d never deceive anyone,” Walt said.

“You already have,” Ray said. “Just a couple of hours ago.”

“I can tell we ain’t gonna get along,” Walt said.

“No, Walt,” Ray said. “We’re going to get along just fine, because I know you appreciate honesty.”

“What’s your point?” Walt said.

“Well you told me not that long ago there’s two things you don’t talk about,” Ray said.

“Religion and politics,” Walt said. “And here I am going on about politics, right?”

“Your lips and not mine,” Ray said.

“Well ya got me there,” Walt said.

“That’s okay,” Ray said. “People are more comfortable talking about things they know than what they are not sure about. Politics effects our lives, but so can the Bible. It helps us see things in their proper perspective.”

“I suppose you’re going to tell me that global warming has something to do with God’s wrath and the fires of hell,” Walt said sarcastically.

“No,” Ray said. “I think you’d see right through that, but I will share with you one indisputable fact about the earth’s future. The Bible says at Ecclesiastes 1:4, ‘A generation is going, and a generation is coming, But the earth remains forever.’”

“What does that mean?” Walt said.

“The earth is stable and will remain stable,” Ray said. “Humans are the only thing that’s not stable.”

“You got that right, but does that mean mankind will become extinct and destroy themselves?” Walt said.

“No,” Ray said. He sipped his coffee and doodled imaginary designs on the counter with his spoon.

Walt waited and watched. “Okay, I give in. I’ll talk religion. How will mankind destroy themselves?”

“They won’t,” Ray said.

“Okay,” Walt said. “How will God do it?”

“You’ve probably heard the Bible quotation ‘The meek shall inherit the earth?’”

“And you said the earth remains forever, right?” Walt said.

“No, the Bible said that,” Ray said.

“Wait now,” Walt said. “All the sudden you sucked me into talking about religion.”

‘No,” Ray said. “We would be talking about religion if it were me that said the earth will remain forever, but it’s the Bible that says that.”

“Well thanks, Ray,” Walt smiled. “Because I wouldn’t want to be talking about religion.” Walt sipped his coffee and thought for a moment. “There’s a big difference between religion and the Bible, right?”

“Your words and not mine,” Ray said.

“Let’s talk about the Bible,” Walt said. “But, the minute you start talking about religion I’m shutting you down.”

“Deal,” Ray said.

(365 Day Prompt)

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Filed under Daily Prompt, Short Stories

What Part Of “No” Don’t You Understand?

If only I were king - NO THANK YOU!

If only I were king – NO THANK YOU!

Daily Prompt: New Internet Order

All the world’s countries have decided that the Internet itself needs a government. Your country asks you to run for Prime Minister of the ‘Net — do you accept? If so, what will your platform be?

No.

If anything beyond that is said it gives the impression of the possibility of being persuaded in some way. Sense I did write something beyond “No” does that mean persuasion is possible?

No.

I just wanted to write something.

Now that I have the floor.

Humans (you and me) do a terrible job of governing. Every government ever was folly. That said, I’m glad it’s around. Without it, no streets, utilities, police, firemen, schools, etc. There has to be some sort of central planning and protective authority.

During 6,000 of recorded human endeavor every sort of governing instrument has been attempted: monarchies, aristocracies, bureaucracies, socialism, communism, dictatorships, republics, democracies, federations, etc. They have at least two things in common; they fail and they continually grasp for more power.

Winston Churchill said, “Indeed it has been said that democracy is the worst form of Gov­ern­ment except for all those other forms that have been tried from time to time.…” Democracy is rule by consensus. In other words; sway the majority or yield to what seems vogue or popular at the time.

That’s scary. That is the sober reality.

There is an unassailable truth from the Bible; Ecclesiastes 8:9 “…man has dominated man to his injury.”

Jesus had a very simple solution; “Pay back, therefore, Caesar’s things to Caesar, but God’s things to God.” (Matthew 22:21) He likewise told his followers to pray for God’s kingdom; “Let your kingdom come. Let your will take place, as in heaven, also upon earth.” (Matthew 6:10)

And somebody wants me to rule the internet; I can’t even organize my home-page.

 

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2016 – The Way We Is

september-2016-calendar-4[1]Daily Prompt: Ebb and Flow

Our blogs morph over time, as interests shift and life happens. Write a post for your blog — but three years in the future.

Well, here we are in 2016:

Al Gore is predicting a global winter for the next thousand years.

The NRA is issuing a fully automatic assault weapon to every newborn.

The U. S. has ask the U. N. for sanctions against the city of Chicago; rival gangs are using poisonous gas instead of bullets.

The population of Detroit is 14, whoops 13; that was a bag of cloths.

Presidential candidates are offering forty acres and a mule for a vote.

Soccer still sucks no matter how hard ESPN and the news media try to shove it down our throats.

Female sports casters still stink no matter how hard ESPN and the news media try to shove it down our throats.

Bernie Madoff receives a Presidential Pardon.

I become more cynical.

Jimmy Hoffa’s DNA shows up in McDonalds’ Big Mac.

The Jittery Goat has 1,000,000 follows and 23 views a day.

I’m blogging once a week now, because I have a life.

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I May Not Be Politically Correct (PC), But I Am Pretty Clear (PC)

Daily Prompt: P.C.

Is political correctness a useful concept, or does it stifle honest discussion?

Politically correct is a bit of a misnomer. It’s more like hiding the obvious or confusing the opposition. It is language specifically designed to make the listener seem more sensitive to others.

All the sudden chairman indicates bias? Hundreds of years of usage and some smarty pants do-gooder comes along and tells me I can’t use ‘chairman?’ I’m sorry, I’m old, cranky, set in my ways and when I got the ball we’re playing by my rules.

Being sensitive to others is one thing and creating sensitivity is another.

A few years ago I was walking into work. A friend, Armando, a native of Mexico got out of his car at the same time. He was wearing a pull down hat often worn by old men on golf courses. “Hey, Paco,” I yelled.” Take off your hat.” What I yelled to him was a line from the movie The Three Amigos. It was a movie we both enjoyed and always exchanged lines.

Armando laughed. “I have a plethora of hats.” (another Three Amigo reference)

As we walked into the plant he told me he was taking off at lunch time in order to take his wife out for her birthday.

Near the end of the work day two members of the local PC police paid me a visit. They were actually an arm of the UAW, the civil rights committee.

“Is it true you used racial slurs to one of your union brothers?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.

“You were observed using unacceptable language when talking to one of our union brothers.”

“I still don’t know what you are talking about,” I said.

“Someone said you made a biased remark to one of our union brothers.”

“Who?” I said.

“We can’t say.”

“Than get lost,” I said.

They stepped away and had a brief and private conversation. They returned.

One said, “I heard you.”

“What did I say and to who?” I said.

“You said to Armando, ‘Hey, Paco, take off your hat.’”

“You will have to explain this one to me,” I said.

“Such language is very demeaning to our Hispanic brothers.”

“You two have really got too much time on your hands,” I said.

“We are going to have to make this a matter of record and if it comes up again it can be used against you.”

“For what? Kick me out of the union, where do I sign up?” I said.

“I don’t think you see how serious it is.”

“Than let’s find out. Let’s go talk with the union President,” I said.

We went to the union President’s office.

“Is that all true?” the President said.

“Yes,” I said.

“Don’t you see how that is insensitive and derogatory?”

“No,” I said.

“That upset Armando so badly he left work early.”

“Let me explain something,” I said. “In your quest to be vigil you have become short-sighted. On the way into work this morning Armando told me he was leaving early because it was his wife’s birthday. My saying something to Armando about his hat was a quote from a movie. It was a private joke.”

They smiled dismissively as if not believing me.

I picked up the telephone on the President’s desk and dialed Armando’s cell phone and put it on speaker.

“Hello,”

“Armando, this is Kenton,” I said. “Are you and your wife enjoying a nice meal?”

“We just ordered. What you want?”

“Is everything okay between me and you?’ I said.

“Sure, amigo. We solid.”

“When I said ’Paco, take off your hat’ this morning, did that bother you?”

“Oh no, that’s funny. You come up with funny stuff all the time.”

We hung up.

“Now, put that in your report,” I said.

“I guess there has been a terrible misunderstanding,” the union President said. “I’m sorry you had to go through this.”

“No apology needed,” I said. “It appears you were misinformed, deceived, or just down right lied to. Nevertheless, you might want to find out what Amos ’n Andy have up their sleeves.”

“Now that’s racial,” one said.

“I figure since you can’t make the other one stick, I got one coming.”

When we go out of the way to be politically correct we end up focusing attention on something that’s not there. The thing I don’t understand is that nobody likes it, not even the people it’s supposed to not offend, but for some peculiar it is deemed proper.

Wherever you see or hear politically correct nouns employed it is most likely the free flow of ideas and the richness of language has been disturbed and/or stifled.

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Rush Limbaugh Saves Sister Susie

images[8]Daily Prompt: Back to the Future

Anachronism (noun): an error in chronology; a person or thing that’s chronologically out of place. Write a story in which a person or thing is out of place, or recount a time when you felt out of place.

It was just like my first car, a ‘56 Plymouth Savoy. It was a sweet car, not a hot car, just enough to take you back to a time when metal was king and plastic was only used for radio knobs and gear shift grips.

Before I gave the guy $4,000 dollars and drove away, I showed him a picture of the day I bought a car just like it back in 1964.

“I was so proud of it,” I said. “That’s me and my sister Abigail.” As I said that a sadness came over me. Susie, my oldest sister was missing from the photo. She was dead.

“Well,” the seller said. “This old car will take ya back.”

I got in and drove away.

I rubbed my hand over the metal dash like it was a magic lamp. I turned on the radio, Rush Limbaugh! I smiled. “Well, Rush, take a trip with me, light a cigar, ease back, and forget who you are.”

“You won’t believe what the Democrats are doing in the House right now and how the Republicans are responding. What are they afraid of? There’s danger ahead. It’s like they’re heading into a fog.”

Incredibly I drove into a fog. It came out of nowhere. “There’s danger on the other side,” Limbaugh said and the radio began to crackle. I strained my eyes to see what was ahead.

“Who ever can get though this fog and see beyond is the one who can help,” Limbaugh said. “That’s where I, your humble and masterful guide through all this political fog comes in. I will show you the way as I have done so often in the past.”

I chuckled.

Suddenly the fog cleared. The radio cleared. The station changed. It was playing Pat Boone’s April Love. I smiled, that was my sister Susie’s favorite. From a farm house two children came running toward me. Their was panic in their run and in their voices.

I stopped.

“Hurry, our sister,” the girl, who was older, said. “The hay mow gave way and she’s buried under it.”

I ran to the barn and tossed bales of hay aside calling for the girl. Suddenly I stopped. This is how my oldest sister, Susie, lost her life.

“Susie, Susie, we’re coming!” I cried out as bales were removed.

“How do you know her name?” the girl said.

“Just keep pulling the bales,” I said. “Better yet go up to the house and call 9-1-1.”

“What!” She said. “I’m not leaving my sister.”

“When we get her out of here she will need medical attention,” I said. “ Now go!”

“I’m not leaving my sister,” she said and continued to remove the bales.

I looked at the little boy. Suddenly that day came back to me. I stood paralyzed then just as the little boy now. It was the most helpless I had ever felt. There was nothing I could have done back then. I could hardly move a bale on my own. We didn’t get to Susie in time.

“Hey, little fella,” I said. “Can you dial the phone?”

He nodded through his fear and tears.

“Go to the house and dial 9-1-1 and tell the operator where you live and what happened. Can ya do that.”

“What is this 9-1-1 business?” the girl said sharply. “Help me!”

The boy shook his head and ran for the house.

The girl and I pulled bales away until we got to an older girl. She was listless.

“She’s dead!” the girl said.

“No,” I said. “There’s help on the way.”

From a distance a siren approached.

I made my way back to the car.

“You did a good thing today, little fella,” I said to the boy as I got back into the car.

“I couldn’t reach the phone so a guy with a cigar dialed for me. He handed me the phone and let me tell them what was going on and where we live. Then he said he hoped they weren‘t democrats.”

“Take care, little fella,” I said. Then I thought, ‘Couldn’t have been Limbaugh, he wouldn’t have let anyone talk but himself.’

“Will I see you again?” the little boy said.

“Very likely,” I said.

I got back in the car drove forward into another bank of fog. There was static on the radio. Rush Limbaugh was on again. “Whoa, folks, I don’t know where I’ve been, but I don’t remember a thing I’ve said for the last fifteen minutes. I’m sure it was brilliant. I dreamed I was in the fog. I dreamed I was in a farm house and dialed 9-1-1 for a little boy because he couldn‘t reach the phone that was hanging on the wall. It’s very strange, brilliant minds such as mine. Maybe it wasn’t the fog, maybe it was the cigar smoke. I think my subconscious is telling me that I‘m the guy who has to dial 9-1-1 for this country because…”

I smiled and changed to an oldies station. They were playing the Everly Brothers’ Wake Up Little Susie.”

I stopped and dug that picture from my bill fold. There we were, me, Abigail, and Susie.

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If It’s A Sermon I Want, I Know Where To Go

Churches aren't the only places you'll be preached at.

Churches aren’t the only places you’ll be preached at.

Daily Prompt: Art Appreciation

Do you need to agree with an artist’s lifestyle or politics to appreciate their art? To spend money on it?

The answer to this question is easy. Nearly everyone who responds to this prompt mentally or by posting will say they can put a person’s lifestyle and political views aside and enjoy that person’s art regardless of what the artist does or believes.

Yet the truth is that we all have a line in the sand somewhere. I do.

I will offer an example without using a name. There is a singer with an absolutely wonderful and flawless voice. I’ve seen clips of his on stage performances and read about his lifestyle. It is repugnant to me. I will not buy his music, never consider going to his concerts, or watch him on TV – period. I don’t hate the person and will never hurt him. I choose just to ignore him. If he had a flat tire along the road I’d give him a lift or fix it – you get my point.

When ever an artist’s art becomes political, religious, or lifestyle oriented to the point of campaigning, proselytizing, or recruiting, that crosses the line. I don’t want to be preached at, I want entertained.

Entertainment TV programming will become so heavily political I will stop watching them. Many times I feel as though there is an effort to covertly convert me to something or manipulate my thinking.

The vast array of awards shows have become little more than an opportunity for entertainers to express a personally held point of view. That view may even be one held by me or the majority. Nevertheless, when I see one of them accept an award, step to the lectern, and express one of their views about the problems of the world I immediately try to find a station that has a commercial because they have now become the problem.

That said, I know it is near impossible for an artist to shy from their personal point of view, yet it does not have to be exploited and revered as the only point of view. If I go to a performance and the entertainer I’m there to see speaks badly about a political figure, whether they be liberal of conservative, they are disrespecting me – the guy who came to be entertained.

But what about me? Isn’t my point of view or lifestyle reveled by what I write? Certainly it is and for that reason everyone has a choice. I can’t please everyone, only myself. My point of view can’t help but raise its head. Sometimes one is pushed into a corner and must express their point of view to be honest to themselves. In my view there is nothing wrong with that.

Tolerance is the word most often used, yet misunderstood. Tolerance is often used to beat somebody over the head because they won’t change a point of view or accept another’s. When used in the world of manufacturing there comes a time when something becomes so far beyond tolerance it is no longer useful. It is measured by a standard. People who proclaim the loudest they are tolerant often times are the least intolerant of others. As convoluted as this is to express they become intolerant with people who don’t share their tolerance.

That said, I try not to know anything about an artist’s personal life. Yet if it is pushed on me; “hasta la vista, baby.”

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Gather The Wood And Light The Fire

We are somehow led to believe that those who don't support gay marriage are the ones burning people at the stake. Is that actually true? Who are the ones marginalized for their opinion? Who are the ones who suffer the consequenses of expressing an opinion or view.

We are somehow led to believe that those who don’t support gay marriage are the ones burning people at the stake. Is that actually true? Who are the ones marginalized for their opinion? Who are the ones suffering the consequences of expressing an opinion or view?

Daily Prompt: Bone of Contention

Pick a contentious issue about which you care deeply — it could be the same-sex marriage debate, or just a disagreement you’re having with a friend. Write a post defending the opposite position, and then reflect on what it was like to do that. (Takes too much time.)

Wow! Same sex marriage. If you hold an opinion on this other that what the entertainment media, the liberal news organizations, and GLAD you are a bigoted homophobe who hates gays, freedom for all, and repressing your own gay tendencies. It is likely I boil children and eat them, a Nazi, hate puppies and kittens, and still think the earth is flat.

I’ve never seen a homosexual discriminated against. When I was in the Army one of my workmates came ’out.’ He did so to get kicked out of the Army. It took six months for his discharge to go through. He continued to work and got a promotion. It was as if nothing changed. We didn’t care.

I’ve worked in a shop for thirty years. There were a number of homosexual man and women working where I did. They got paid the same as I did and got promotions.

At no time in my working experience did I see any homosexuals discriminated against nor did they file a complaint. They drove nice cars, had nice homes, and I never saw them come in with a black eye or swollen face from being beat-up.

As to the gay marriage issue, that is up to the government. Whether homosexuals marry or not is none of my business. It makes little difference if they live together or married and living together.

Do I have personal conviction? Sure. but let me first take another bite of boiled kid and block my pop-up to renew my subscription to Nazi Monthly.

From a scriptural standpoint homosexuality is a sin. (Rom. 1:26,27; 1st Corinthians 6: 9-11) That does not make me any more judgmental than a judge sentencing a man to life because he confessed to murder and has knife dripping with blood in his hand. I’m not making up my own rules. It is just what the Bible says.

Six thousand years of human history supports that position also. The communists, who did everything they could to eradicate the Bible, God, and religion, did not allow homosexuals to marry.

The Bible does not say to beat them up, not serve them, don’t rent to them, or not to be kind to them.

Will I vote against a homosexual marriage law. No, I don’t vote. All I have is my opinion. As stated that opinion rests on six thousand years of recorded human history and the Bible.

Before ya’ll go ballistic with studies, genetics, and ’let’s burn him at the stake;’ there are studies that say I’m right and there are studies that say I’m wrong, there is genetic proof of a gay gene, there are all sorts of genes that are not good for us and we try to isolate them and combat against them, as to being ‘burned at the stake’ – cowards never make it that far. Their opinion changes to agree with the angry mob as soon as they smell the fire.

To return to the “Prompt,” is it a “bone of contention?” Not like in the classical sense; as if it drives me crazy. My ‘bone of contention’ is that people try to shout down my opinion or think of me as intellectually lazy or void. Like I said in the beginning and it bears repeating, it makes little difference to me, just let me have an opinion and don’t hate me for it the same way others think I hate homosexuals, because I don’t.

Other bloggers to contend with:

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