Haters gone hate, bloggers gone blog, preachers gone preach.

I met up with my friend the other day who wanted to know why I haven’t been writing.  He loves my writing.  And he reminded me of the first rule of being a good writer–you have to write.


So true, that.   The difference between writers and most people is that writers also perfect the process of transmitting their opinions and ideas into some kind of organized script that can be read and understood by anyone, especially those who don’t happen to be privy to the daily stream of consciousness that the writer may utter with friends and in situations.

So, what does this have to do with haters?  Well, haters have to also practice hating on a daily basis in order to keep their edge.  And haters have difficulty responding the logical points of a well-written script, so that may cause them to avoid arguments with writers.   So there are connections of sorts there.  But, really, it just gives a familiar tag to the title because the phrase is used a lot today.  People have to do what they do, because it’s who they are.  If you stop hating, you cease to be a hater.  If I stop writing, I cease to be a writer.


Yes, and preachers have to preach.  I was trained to be a preacher.  I often go on Facebook and want to preach ten or twenty sermons in a day.  I have many pastor friends who barely say anything on Facebook.  I used to think I was quite the windbag compared to them.  But, I’ve begun to realize that they all have somewhere to preach already.  So they don’t need to do much of it on Facebook.  They still do once in awhile, and it’s usually good stuff to hear.  I, on the other hand, only have my blog, on which I get little feedback that I’m actually preaching to someone.


So, here I am, in the busiest season of my work year, writing a blog.  But, I have to write something somewhere.  I’m trying to give my Facebook friends a rest.  They have basically been reading my blog unofficially for the last six months and they probably won’t mind if I blow off steam somewhere else.


I gotta preach.   It’s all been said before, somewhere, by someone, in some way.  But that is the beauty of preaching.  There is always a new way of looking at things.  And every new perspective helps someone somewhere understand something better.  I’m not going to be preaching a new Gospel.  But people need to hear it, and I need to write it.

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To support or not support Israel, that is the question.

I am not Jewish (by religion), nor would I have ever been remotely Zionist or wanted a State of Israel in Palestine.  That being said, it is foolish to wish the death of anyone or to boycott for almost any reason, since boycotts are akin to the little boy who says, “I’m taking my toys and going home!” whenever someone else hurts his sensibilities.  Israel is there now.  Let her stay if she can.  As for protecting her at all costs, I can’t condone that, not believing, as most wayward Christians, that the Kingdom of God cannot come if the State of Israel does not exist.  Let England and France, whose ill-conceived idea it was to draw the State of Israel and randomly divide ethnic and religious groups with arbitrary borders, now come to her rescue.  Or let her survive on her own.  Surely she will have enough support from elite Zionist money lords around the world to accomplish this without the USA pitching in.

Now, there is another issue in the Muslim world-view.  Any history shows that Muslims operate in a totalitarian mode, meaning they are a threat to all things non-Muslim.  For this reason, we have a common ground with the State of Israel to prevent the forceful advance of Islam.  However, Islam recognizes that, in order to kill Israel, all they have to do i erode the base of support Israel has in the Western democracies.  This it will do by turning us into Muslim countries first, leaving Israel on an island.  Already, I somewhat think, this is why France and England have lost their backbone.  Soon the USA will follow.  Certainly Obama has done whatever he can in that regard.

Certainly Israel is in a pickle with no easy way out.  As I see it, Israel has two avenues of recourse with some hope of success.  One would be to sell the land back to Turkey (or whoever else has legal claim as the one’s who sold it to them in the first place, because I recognize they bought it fair and square, no matter what Muslim propaganda says).  The other would be to screw the UN, annex the Palestinian land and throw out all the squatters.  And while you are at it, make an agreement with Syria and Jordan,  (and perhaps Russia if you could pull it off) to take out ISIS in exchange for redrawing new, larger, more easily defensible borders.  OK, I know one plan ends Israel and the other probably would turn the world even more against Israel.  But the looming threat of nuclear annihilation isn’t much of an alternative either.

In closing, let everyone beware of grandiose promises made by snake oil salesmen (like the Zionist movement).  “We Are the World” plays well in a fairy tale.  But, in the real world, with lots and lots of evil people who aren’t about to “live and let live”, not so much.  We have another fairy tale knocking on our gates, now, calling themselves “innocent refugees”.   Check their world-view.  Look at their 1400-year history.  When they and their liberal sympathizers attack and slander Israel, consider the source.  Lying to the infidel is how they make brownie points with Allah.  We will never be the World.  We will always be self-interested countries.  Only two things could change that–Zionism or Islam.   What the state of Israel represents at this time is Gog holding off Magog.  What Islamic “refugees” represent is Magog’s flanking maneuvers.

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Decadence, Part 2, Sex

Decadence, Part 2, Sex.

70% of the internet is porn.  That must mean that the other 30% is gambling.

The ultimate conclusion is that, unless sex is kept to the marriage bed and kept in private, everyone becomes lonelier, less fulfilled and less happy.  Free love becomes an act which is even beyond animal instinct to the point of being sociopathic.  Is it any wonder that we live in a society that treats people worse than animals.

I wish I could say that the video was shocking, but I have seen worse on European broadcast TV.  Even in “prudish” America we have flirted with full nudity for some time now, even as we have sought to give the least restrained of society their fifteen minutes of fame.

If God is really gracious to America, the great EMP will hit us, knock us all off the internet for a few months, so that we can all suddenly wake up and see reality again, and see that it ain’t so bad.  In fact, it’s quite a bit better than fantasy, once you go through detox

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Hyphenated Americans

In the centuries of immigration and other forms of matriculation to US soil, there have been many cases of hyphenated expressions of nationality.  Sometimes these were an innocuous affinity for the fatherland and the plight of those still living there.  Sometimes these were derogatory terms that sought to single out one or more ethnicities as problems or as something to be avoided or controlled.  And, finally, hyphenation became a way of procuring special favor as an underclass.  But, only in the last few decades has hyphenation become a force in creating rifts in the America culture.

Before the United States of America raised its unified head on American soil, European powers all had colonial interests in the New World.  But one wasn’t inclined to speak of hyphenated people.  The colonists were English, overall.  Those that had immigrated from other countries were absorbed into the English colonies and not considered to have allegiances elsewhere.  Yet they were called what they were, Dutch, German, French, and the like, as a reference to whence they had come.  Except for a few that purposely worked on behalf of their home countries, motives for being in the colonies were not in question.

After 1781, all within the boundaries of the new United States, outside of ambassadors and the like, were considered American citizens.  Never was any thought given to the land from which they might originally have come and in which they might have had loyalties.  There was, of course, one particular group who did not have equal citizenship.  It was to take another 80 years to remedy this situation, so that all people, regardless of ethnicity, could simple call themselves, which no strings attached, American citizens.

Once the great American mistake was fixed, and America began to come to prominence, the numbers of immigrants swelled.  During this time, one’s country of origin became an issue, and the hyphenating of Americans created a chain of events that would work toward the downfall of the America ideal.

It started with the Irish.  For some reason, the Irish were considered to be black and were subject to the same prejudices of American blacks.  But, the Irish were not going to acquiesce to such treatment, especially as their ranks swelled and they fought their way (often literally) into political prominence.  To help there cause, and also to protect their new-found base for much of their employment, the West, the Irish had to come up with another ethnicity on which to blame societal problems.  Along came the Chinese.

The Chinese were wooed to America as America’s Manifest Destiny began to spread out over the Pacific in search of new trade routes.  As China was then languishing in the aftermath of the Boxer rebellion and the Opium Wars, promises of good jobs and pay lured many of them to America.  Some of them were hired to replace lost black slaves in the South, and treated pretty much like slaves.  They subsequently revolted and thus ceased the majority of agrarian Chinese labor.  In California and the West, however, they proved to be tireless workers just as the railroad was being stretched to the Pacific.  However, they worked too well, which didn’t leave jobs for the Irish.  So, the Irish lead the way in halting Chinese immigration.  This made the Chinese-America a miniscule minority indeed until the mid 1900’s found us allied with China against Japanese aggression.

It was during this Japanese agression, linked, of course, with Germany in the Axis powers, that German-Americans ceased to worship in German, talk in German, and promote their German heritage.  Suddenly, Germans who had been in America for generations, were suspect to be sympathetic to Hitler’s Germany.  Of course, that was hardly ever the case.  Nor was it the case the Japanese-Americans were suddenly going to rise up en masse and help the Japanese Army defeat America.  But, the Japanese could not disappear into the mass of America as the Germans could do.  Most of them were stripped of their possessions and placed in camps for the duration of the war.

Italians were also singled out when they started coming to this country.  Their response was a lot like the Irish.  They fought their ways to respectability.  Many of them did so by taking over.  It’s called the Mafia.  They still have their fingers in everything, including having elected at least two presidents.

Then there are the Jewish Americans.  Oi y’veh, wouldn’t they just love it if everyone just let them be Americans already.  And yet the Jews are peculiar.  Although they don’t practice the same religion anymore, they all still talk of being the chosen people.  They are one of the few ethnic groups that retains a nationality despite not having a homeland for 2000 years.  They have one now, but hardly any of them want to live in it.  Yet they haven’t assimilated as well as they might have hoped over the years.  They didn’t just because Russian, Polish, English, German, etc.  And they aren’t particularly united in calling Palestine their homeland, since most of them have never lived there.  But, when the American flag is raised and the National anthem is sung, they sing right along with the rest of us.

Finally, let’s get back to the blacks.  For 100 years after they gained full rights of citizenry, most black only wanted to be Americans, like everyone else.  Unfortunately for them, it wasn’t so easy to blend in.  In the 1960’s just as the blacks were about to finally integrate along with everyone else, along came black power and drove the other way.  Even that couldn’t stop most blacks from assimilating until the new segregationists of the 60’s rose to power and demanded that we all re-hyphenate.  The American Indian benefited to some degree and is now more correctly labeled a native-American.  This, of course, is confusing as well, though.  After all, I was born in America, of American citizens, which thus makes me a native American too, even though I am German-American and probably a little Jewish-American as well.

As an American of German descent, I appreciate my German heritage.  And yet I have no desire to repatriate nor do I have any affinity for Germany in German-American affairs.  I just like bratwurst.  I don’t go around calling myself German-American, because I’m not longer German at all.  I pledge allegiance to the the United States of America.  Only.   I think it’s cool that America has so many ethnic groups all thrown together, adding diversity to our culture.  I also think it’s cool that we all speak one language and follow one set of laws.  I don’t think it’s cool that we make laws that try to separate people into factions.  I don’t think it’s cool that, since the 60’s  we have tried to tear down our culture in favor of multi-culture.  After all, we are not the Divided States of America.  Although all this hyphenating (pro-choice, pro-life) is certainly taking us there.

In conclusion, not much good ever comes from hyphenating Americans.  It causes brutality, divisions, persecutions, confusion, distraction, and general malaise.  It’s where we found ourselves in the 70’s.  Then we crawled out of it in the 80’s, only to have spiraled back down into it 20 years later.  I hope we can get past hyphenated America again soon, before there’s no America left to hyphenate.

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The Race

The days leading up to Sunday’s race were not what I would call filled with good omens.  First, there was the second degree sunburn I foolishly allowed myself to suffer on Wednesday’s ride-through of the 90 mile route.  Actually, those burns were largely a result of the cottage cheese I foolishly ingested on Tuesday night, which left me in the bathroom and sick in bed long after my 5am start time.  By the time I rolled out of the house at quarter past nine, I wasn’t in the mood for stopping to find sun screen.  But cloud cover was heavy, so I blew it off.  By 9:45, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky and wouldn’t be until I arrived at the finish six hours later.  Note to self, **SLAP!**

Three weeks ago, I had barely ridden a bike all summer.  Only twice had I broken ten miles.  But a recent 20 holes of golf in which a ran most of the course had gotten me to thinking that my health had somewhat improved.  All earlier attempts to ride had left me feeling half dead, not sensing any ability to recover.  So, I now wondered to myself whether I should find out once and for all if I indeed were better.  And, also, I sensed a small window to do what had become a ritual for me, to ride my bike around the lake, a mere 75 miles.  Of course, I don’t have a rode bike that works and have to ride my modified mountain bike, so it takes longer.

Tuesday, August 4, I was up early, had the bike loaded and hit the road at 5:50.  Due to switching winds, the first 60 miles were slightly wind-abetted.  After I finally got the wind behind me, I frolicked around taking pictures and such and coasted home in 6 1/2 hours.  I had done it, so now to focus on work.

By Saturday, August 8, the work schedule was still full of holes.  Finding myself with the afternoon free, I decided to try it again, this time more seriously.  Based on what I’ve come to learn about muscle recovery, it was the fourth day, so I should be ready.  5 hours and 15 minutes later I was successful again.

Thoughts turned toward the “Race the Lake”, a 90 mile race held every year.  Turns out if was coming up the next Sunday.  I’d ridden 75 miles twice in a week, but had never ridden my mountain bike 90 miles in one sitting.  Could I do it?  Should I?  I decided that, based on four days’ rest, I should try the course out.  As yes another work hole opened up on Wednesday, perfect timing.

While I felt good again on Wednesday, the aforementioned mistakes had me feeling pretty miserable for the rest of the week.  Sleep was hard to get, as any little movement caused burn pain.  Also, there was the fact that work days were going into late hours.  Even Saturday, a rest day, involved too much running around, such that I finally collapsed at 10pm and hope I could get a few hours of sleep.

By the time the 3am alarm sounded, I was just falling asleep.  I got up and contemplated punting the whole idea, instead of diving into the pre-race itinerary.  Suddenly, I’m half-way through breakfast and realize that it’s already 4:15, I’m half an hour drive from the race start, and I haven’t even packed the car yet.  So now the real race begins.  Managing to pull a rabbit out of the hat, I arrived at the parking lot a 5:05am.  Race is at 5:30.  Cutting it close but OK.

So, I jump out of the car and they start my division of the race!  Oops, they told me the wrong start time at registration.  So I slap my bike together and go off by myself, 15 minutes late.  Like and idiot, I try to catch the guys in my division.  Not a smart move on a 45-pound mountain bike with no pack for sharing the wind break.  By mile 22, the elite rode bikes, who started after me by 25 minutes, go rolling by.  I try to catch a draft but am already too spent.  By mile 36, I realize that I am gassed and think of pulling out.  At mile 45 comes the first big climb and I need to get off and walk.  Also, we have now turned into the wind.  Several gatoraides and some welcome downhills later, I’m sitting at mile 65, still gassed, but thinking I can do this.  Four hours have elapsed, and I’m thinking there are only about two to go, so just keep turning the pedals.  Two more excruciating hours bring me to the finish line.

Now it is Friday post-race.  The sunburn is almost healed, now.  The last two nights finally brought sleep, but I’m still feeling fatigued.  Now the questions for analysis.

  1. Should I go back into bike racing?  NO!  My time of six hours wasn’t bad, considering the bike I rode and the messed up situation that saw me solo the whole race.  But, the winners all posted a time around 3:23.  When I was 25, maybe I could have competed with that.  But I remember being on the bike 15 hours a week.  I remember how hard it was to stay awake at my desk during my day job.  I remember not having a life.  And I remember still getting beat by the younger guys who didn’t have a day job, which meant more rest and more hours of training.  My hobby was their job.
  2. How am I doing at 55?  After a year of really questionable health, I thought I was never going to feel like a younger man again.  I’m happy to find that that is not the case.  No, I didn’t recover very well this week.  But, I do notice a difference.  My knees stopped complaining.  My heart rate is back under 60.  Even my fingers stopped feeling arthritic.  Other issues are still nagging me.  But, I think some of that is from the stress of 330 miles on a mountain bike in 13 days.  As biking makes me want to eat everything, I got a little lax on watching what I eat and ate things I know don’t sit right with me, like dairy (Hello!  Cottage cheese?  What were you thinking!)  I will have to see if things start improving again when I get off the junk food.
  3. Will I be back next year?   It’s a long way and God only knows what comes in between.  But, I feel like my old self again for the first time since February of 2014.   I lost my sister that month, which couldn’t have helped my health much.  But it was pretty bad before then.  And depression from a failed business venture couldn’t have helped either.  But, I’ve read so much about how the body needs oxygen to be healthy.  I’ve learned so much about eating right and have done a much better job at it.  And I think it helped.  But I always had the sneaking suspicion that conquering the lake was going to help me conquer my health.  I think I was right.

Going for a little ride tomorrow.  Around the lake.  Anyone want to join me?

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The Obama Test

I have noticed, over the years, that the title of a blog is more important to its viewership than anything in the meta file or the content.   Recently, I have blogged very little.  Yet, some titles continue to lead the way in views.  I am putting this blog in the search engine just to see how many hits it gets just because the title mentions Obama.

Now, to be sure, some people love our president and some people hate him.  But, as Donald Trump would say, there is no such thing as bad publicity.  And our present White House inhabitant is certainly capable of generating a lot of pub.

Some of you might be insulted that I wasted your time in this way.  But, it’s not a total waste of time, if it gets you to stop and think about something.  Most of what we click on and discuss on this terrible and wonderful internet is knee-jerk, visceral response to shock journalism.  I am myself guilty of wasting many a good day when I suddenly realize that I have followed the click trail well down the trail of paid click sites to the point of contemplating just how much some celebrities look like their dogs.  Meanwhile, somewhere else, something matters, like Planned Parenthood selling aborted fetus parts, or Obama (oo, I said the magic word again, yay!) quietly issuing an executive order (by the way, aren’t most of these unconstitutional?) that give the federal government eminent domain over you and you property.  Why didn’t we know this? Well, there are, unfortunately only so many hours in the browsing day, and we spent ours being led by the nose through a pile of ads.

I’m sure I could come up with more catchy titles that would bring people running.  Something like,  “When they opened the lid on the garbage can, they were shocked by what they saw!”  Then I could proceed to tell the story of some schlep who was always messing until he discovered how to keep the trash can spotless.  Then I could make some links to incredible cleaning products or to that new coating to which nothing can stick.  Maybe I can get a little click revenue, while I’m at it.  Of course, it takes some time and effort to set that up, and a little know-how.   I could probably find out if I weren’t so busy deciding which Olsen Twin is more anorexic.

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Happy Anniversary To Me. So What.

Well, another year of blogging quietly concluded.  Quietly is was mostly because I ceased to care much about blogging.  What is the point of all the talk when no one is listening?

So, today I read one of my old posts, where I got it.  I don’t blog for today, nor do I blog for present day America.  I blog the universal truth for the time when someone might actually care to listen.  If any of this survives the Great Purge of Queen Obama in 2045 (she the heir and successor to her father, King Barack, who becomes the first American Caesar just before the 2016 elections), then maybe some small band of rebels might be encouraged to some small degree to forge the new freedom movement.  If, by the grace of God, that movement doesn’t end up being led by a modern day Adi Amin, I might make some small difference in this world some day.

More likely,  I will get back to this blogging thing and help the small remnant of Christians who still exist after the mass exodus from churches that ensues, now that the Christian veneer has been totally stripped from America via the Supreme Coat Us.  At least no one will accuse me of being inconsistent.  Since the eve of Obama’s second election victory (My Kingdom is not of the world), I have been speaking the truth about nominal Christianity.  I like how Hunter Baker managed to encapsulate it.  Since Essy Oat Us has now removed any possible political gain to being Christian, the death knell of nominal Christianity has been sounded.

Now, I’m not for gay marriage any more than I’m for abortion.  But it just might be a good thing that we finally see the fruits of uncommitted Christianity.   Decades ago we dropped the ball when we stopped throwing people out of the church for doing unchristian things like sleeping around, easy divorces, spousal abuse, and, in general, imitating and trying to “fit in” to the unchristian world.  For decades, those watching the church shouted “hypocrisy!”   We, the few who really were trying to live our faith, tried to respond that we were misunderstood, that no one can live up to the standards of Christ no matter how hard they try, but that there is forgiveness when we fail.   We didn’t really understand that only 10% of us were really even trying.  We didn’t start to realize it until a whole generation of young Christians went off to college and never came back.  We blamed it on brainwashing of teachers (which is quite true), not realizing that the real blame lay in the fact that we neither taught our children God’s word nor showed them any example of Christian living.  Now, suddenly, the shock at legal gay marriage.  Frankly, I am a little shocked myself that gays should want to marry, given that “Christians” have made such a mess of the state that hardly anyone who looks at most marriages should want to marry.

Anyway, I’m still all for marriage.  It’s the best for everyone involved.  I’m not all for gay marriage, because I don’t think any marriage based on something abominable to God can ever end well.  And I’m not for the idea of Christian marriage just because that’s what Christians do.  No, I’m talking about a real, working marriage, with kids nurture by a father and a mother, kids who are trained up in the way they should go so that they know how it’s supposed to be done when it’s their turn.  But I haven’t seen much of that in a long, long time.  And, when I do see it, it is a rare thing of beauty.

So, yes, I’ll keep blogging.  I’ll take some different tacks, since logical politics is dead and gone.  But I signed on for five years minimum.  Two to go.  Hope I still recognize something in the world by then.


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