The Raving Pigeon

George Bush Receives a Purple Heart

2007-04-23T11:50:00.000-07:00

Cove veteran presents Purple Heart to President Bush

By Joyce May

The Cove Herald

WASHINGTON – Bill and Georgia Thomas reported they were elated Monday when they met in the Oval Office with President George W. Bush to present him with a Purple Heart."We were just absolutely bowled over. Without reservation, it was one of the highlights of our life. He was such a gracious host," Thomas said. "It was just an incredible, incredible experience."

The couple was able to meet with President Bush for about 20 minutes to present him with one of three Purple Hearts that Bill Thomas received during his service in Vietnam."He said he didn't feel like he had earned it," Thomas said, noting the president looked thinner in person than on television.

The Thomases also were able to meet Barney, the president's Scottish terrier, and tour the White House Rose Garden.

Thomas said he and his wife came up with the unprecedented idea to present the president with the Purple Heart over breakfast one morning a few months ago as they discussed the verbal attacks, both foreign and domestic, the commander in chief has withstood during his time in office."We feel like emotional wounds and scars are as hard to carry as physical wounds," Thomas said.

The medal was awarded to Thomas on Dec. 18, 1965, following injuries he sustained while serving in heavy combat with the 173rd Airborne Brigade in Vietnam.

Thomas said the Purple Heart he presented the president has special meaning to him because the injury he suffered to earn it occurred just after a friend, Richard Peterson, lost his life attempting to save him."The hand grenade came in, and I didn't see it. Before diving, which he should have ... he pushed me down and the delay cost him his life," Thomas recalled. "Shortly after that, I was laying in position ... and took a .50-caliber round that shattered my shoulder blade and virtually took out my right lung."

Thomas said he drew up a citation and he and his wife signed it before dropping it and the medal off with Rep. John Carter, R-Round Rock, to forward to President Bush.Carter later called Thomas to inform him that the president was very moved by the gesture and would like the couple to present it in person."

John Carter was so helpful and so gracious," Thomas said, noting that he and his wife were also able to have dinner with the congressman and his wife, Erica.Thomas took a copy of the original citation showing the origin of the actual medal and presented it as a companion piece with the citation he drew up for the president.

He has drawn criticism from some locals who have learned of his actions, Thomas said. Nevertheless, he said he earned the Purple Heart and it is his to do with it as he sees fit."I feel the President deserved one," he said. "The bottom line is, I paid for these Purple Hearts with my blood."

Something about Mondays in April

2007-04-17T10:54:00.001-07:00

Bob Geldof and the Boomtown Rats.

My Allen baby kittenzez

2007-04-16T09:50:00.000-07:00

Beth LaCrosse

He came into my life on June 2, 1995. My landlord’s kids came up to my apartment screaming Queenie had kittens and that they were under the couch and could I please come get them out. There were four kittens, the first one I pulled out was a grey and white boy kitty, the next two were both brown tabby girl kitties. The very last kitten was a silver tabby boy kitty. When I saw him, I told my landlady that “I want that silver kitty”. The kids named the grey/white kitty Kingie, and the two female tabby cats were named Yvette and Naomi. The silver tabby was named Allen. When I saw Allen, I knew he was mine. Allen grew up in a household with a 2 year old toddler, and was carried around by his tail a lot.

Allen was “touched” much like me. He was very aggressive and bit me several times, landing me in the hospital once and in the ER twice. I still loved him. The last time he bit me, he ended up in “kitty jail” for ten days. So I took him to the vet and asked what would help Allen calm down. The vet said that he needed “kitty attitude adjustment shots”. Allen got two shots over a 4 month period. He seemed to calm down a lot, especially after the second “attitude adjustment” shot. In fact, after the second shot, he was very subdued. Two days later, I found a half eaten pill that was an antipsychotic drug. Apparently the combination of the “attitude adjustment” shot and the Neurontin worked very well together. Allen was a happier and calmer kitty, and did not need any more of the shots.

Allen is truly my kitty. We are very close and he likes me to hold him. He is very interested in what I do on the computer, and likes to sit on my paper work and on the computer keyboard when I am working. He is very demanding about being held and petted. I really feel good when I hold him and pet him. He is my “Allen baby kittenzez” and we are inseparable. When I travel, he gets very angry and when I get back home he is aloof until I apologize and give him some kitty treats. Allen and I are inseparable. He is my best friend and of all of the kitties I have had, he is the very best one I have ever had. Allen likes to go out for walks in the back yard and graze on the grass. I put him in a halter and on a leash. He is very good at walking on the leash. I have 3 other cats and one service dog. Allen is truly the “alpha cat” and “alpha dog” since my dog Ragz defers to him. Maybe a better term would be “alpha pet”.

I have never had such a close connection with any other cat, or dog for that matter. I love Allen more than I have loved any one else, be it a dog, cat, or person. Allen and I are always in tune with each other. He knows when I a sad and need reassurance and always comes to sit in my lap. When I pet him, he purrs and we talk with each other and blink our eyes. I really think we communicate well. I think that god gave me Allen because he is such a blessing in my life.

That is not to say I don’t love my other kitties and my service dog. They all have their different qualities. Boone, is a 3 year old kitten, he is black with a white tuxedo. He is a big kitty, not fat, just big boned. I adopted him from some kids who had come by my friend’s house while I was visiting her. The next kitty is about 1 ½ years old. Her name is Nikita and she is a feral cat, and is very skittish. She came and was sitting on my doorstep one day when I came home. A few days later, a neighbor asked if they could adopt her. So I gave her to them. Three days later, she is back on my doorstop. I then realized that god really wanted me to have her. She is a small black longhaired kitty. She is very sweet and very pretty. She is tiny for her age. The last cat I rescued was Cosmo. She was feral and I started to feed her. After about two weeks, I was finally able to pick her up and bring her inside. She is very wary, but she also likes to be petted and I think she had been previously a house cat.

Finally, I have a service dog, Ragz. He really means a lot to me. Again, like with Allen, it was love a first sight. I had been teaching a class on families who have relatives with mental illness and mentioned that I was looking for a service dog. One of the students there said that he rescued dogs and had several I could choose from. He brought two dogs for me to meet, one was called Wiggles, and the other was Ragamuffin. When I saw Ragamuffin I knew he was the one for me. I renamed him Ragz. He was two years old. I trained him myself. He is a very good service dog. Everybody comments on how well he behaves. I take him everywhere, planes, trains, automobiles, busses, ferries, you name it. When we fly, I get a bulkhead window and put down a blanket for him to lie on. He stays there until we get there. We have flown as far away as Washington D. C., which is quite a long trip coming from Alaska.
This is why I love my animals.

Holy Cow, We're Back

2007-04-09T02:29:00.000-07:00

I know, I know. It's been a while. We have had a lot going on. I do thank you for being patient while we searched our cobweb filled minds for some creativity. Not sure if I have found any yet, but it's late and I really can't sleep well, so I'm gonna give it a go.

We had just the most incredible dinner to celebrate this judeo christian holiday(?) Good food, and lots of it along with good company always make for good times, good times. (lol). Ham, tater salad, Mbeans and a cake Satan would be jealous of. Man that was a good cake. Mom made the cake and it was chocolate covered, chocolate filled, dipped in chocolate with chocolate on it. Good cake. I'm gona go have some right now.....

Ok, good cake.

Spring break has been upon us and with that comes the duty. Having to watch the nephews for 2 weeks while the Momlady has to work. I don't mind haveing to watch them, as long as they're asleep, which never happens. I call them 'The Apocolypse" and his little brother 'Nuclear Holocaust". No kidding. Just send these two to Iraq, the "Global Struggle Against Islamic Extreemism", more commonly refered to as The War Against Terror, or T.W.A.T for short, would be over in no time.

More cake. Alright, my hypoglycemia just kicked in high gear. This is gonna do it for this post. I will have some contributed articles posted throughout the week, keep checking back. Be sure to bookmark this page and leave a comment. Remember, boys and girls, keep those cards and letters coming.

Standing On MY Own

2007-03-23T19:10:00.000-07:00

by Beth LaCrosse

When I was young, I started to play musical instruments. I now know how to play the cello, the piano, the trombone and the bass guitar. Music makes me happy. It’s something like meditation, and listening to my favorite music and playing along with my bass is very soothing. I have many happy memories but there are a few things that did bother me. some encouraged me to play instruments, yet never did attend any of my concerts. This was very sad until I realized that they may not have been that important in my life. This was quite a revelation for me. I am much happier now that I realize that I am a good person, and play music very well. I now know that I am the most important person in my life.

I have expanded my life to be involved as an advocate for persons who are living with a mental illness. I have been very active in NAMI (national alliance on mental illness) since 1996, and served as secretary, vice president and president of NAMI Alaska. I was President of NAMI Alaska for 5 ½ years. I have also served on a number of statewide boards, councils, committees and governing bodies, starting in 1995. These include the State Rehabilitation Council, the Governor’s Committee, The Alaska Mental Health Board, and the Governing Body for the Alaska Psychiatric Institute. I currently serve on the Disability Law Center of Alaska, the Mental Health Rights Advisory Council and am the chair of the Restraint and Seclusion Committee for the MHRAC. I have received many awards and recognition for my work as an advocate, and like music, I find advocacy work rewarding. As a person who suffers from mental illness, (schizo-affective disorder, PTSD, and others) I know first hand what it is like to be mentally ill.

I believe that my mental illness started when I was really young. I personally think that someone close to me had a lot to do with my illness. He was a very angry person who picked on people weaker than he was. In other words, he was a bully, and actually enjoyed bullying others. I was not the only one who he bullied, others, were also subjected to abuse from him. I think that we have all become better persons despite being bullied. It has made us all better people because we have risen up and removed him from our lives. I have become stronger and more self-confident, and believe in myself. My recovery has been a long, slow and difficult journey, one filled with hazards, but results in a greater awareness of life, a greater acceptance of myself, more positive, more real and that shows me that recovery is not only possible, but probable as well. One of my favorite quotes is “there is a light at the end of the tunnel, and it is not that of an oncoming train”.

What is mental illness and how does society react?

Research has shown that people who experience a mental illness have a different life experience than those who do not have a mental illness. Deficits in income, self-worth and social interaction are due, in part to the effects of stigma that surrounds mental illness. Research indicates that attitudes about people with mental illness by members of the general population have been shown to be negative. This creates “underlying negative attitudes towards persons with mental health problems” found among all socioeconomic groups surveyed.
Major factors towards achieving acceptance include eliminating the shrouds of stigma and discrimination towards “mental illness” and the “mentally ill”. Persons who are living with mental illness experience these negative attitudes and respond by having negative feelings including feelings of shame, fear, isolation and experience themselves as objects of ridicule. Culturally negative stereotypes of mental illness are fueled by selective reporting, and the portrayal of people with mental illness in entertainment, and in many other everyday life situations as “dangerous” and ”violent”. People with mental illness, acting on these internalized beliefs, expect to be devalued and discriminated against. Self-devaluation leads to “expectation of rejection”. This in turn causes people with mental illness to withdrawal and isolate from social and employment settings out of fear of rejection. They internalize these negative stereotypes learned through socialization, creating a self-fulfilling prophecy that results in unemployment and lower income.

In order to help combat the stigma and discrimination against “mental illness” and the “mentally ill”, I have been giving presentations since 1999 using the program “In Our Own Voice: Living with Mental Illness” (IOOV:LWMI), formally known as “Living with Schizophrenia”. This educational program was originally produced by NAMI National with a grant from Eli Lilly in the mid 1990’s. This program helps to train different treatments of these illnesses, including both traditional treatment as well as the more non-traditional approaches to recovery. Topics covered in the IOOV:LWMI presentation are “dark days”, “acceptance” “treatment”, “coping skills” and “successes hopes and dreams”.

I have been conducting a study using the In Our Own Voice: Living With Mental Illness (IOOV:LWMI) program to evaluate attitudes towards persons with a mental illness. I am using an attitudinal survey form given before and after the presentation to look at attitudinal changes that can result from attending the IOOV presentation. Thus far, results indicate that there is a significant improvement of peoples’ attitudes towards persons with brain disorders as a direct effect of attending this valuable educational presentation.

It is our hope that through continuing education, we can help change people’s attitudes towards mental health consumers to be more positive and accepting. We believe that educational presentations like the IOOV program is a key component in de-stigmatizing mental illness by helping to educate folks about the truths of mental illness and light the way to recovery for all.

The presentation will focus on different brain disorders, their symptoms, biological correlates of, and treatment options for persons living with a psychiatric disability, as well as what it takes to be “in recovery” from a mental illness. The In Our Own Voice presentation is an interactive approach which invites a lively discussion. The presentation is also helpful in educating the general public, legislators, and mental health professionals by presenting the true facts about mental illness helping to reduce the shroud of stigma and discrimination that surround it and to dispel the myths about “mental illness” and the “mentally ill”. We hope that by education, we can change people’s attitudes about persons living with mental illness and their family and friends, as well as help foster growth in one’s personal recovery.

It is vitally important to continue the work of training mental health consumers to deliver a presentation with first hand factual knowledge regarding what it is like to live with a mental illness. Topics covered in this program include the individuals with brain disorders to give these presentations to help fight the shroud of stigma and discrimination that has plagued “mental illness” and the “mentally ill” for centuries. On a more personal level, this program fosters hope and promotes recovery for folks living with a psychiatric disability.

"Fighting for Peace is like Fucking for Virginity."

2007-03-22T11:08:00.000-07:00

Ian Herron

"Only after the last tree has been cut down,only after the last river has been poisoned,only after the last fish has been caught.only then will you find that money cannot be eaten"

- Attributed to, though possibly not spoken by, Chief Seattle, circa 19th century.

Whether or not you believe that Chief Seattle actually spoke these words (some believe them to have been coined/written by Ted Perry, screenwriter of 'Home', a 1972 film about ecology), one cannot afford to miss the overwhelming truth of the statement. All too often, the American people specifically - and almost all humans in general - choose to indulge their comforts at the expense of the ecological balancing act, known simply to us as 'Nature'. In the year 1992, 2.3 TRILLION GALLONS of untreated waste water was deposited into the coastal waters of the Untied States alone. In that same year, the US accounted for approximately 23 percent of all carbon dioxide emissions in the world!
Let us not forget that while we are busy poisoning EVERYONE'S air, we are even busier destroying some of the best known technology for dealing with the huge amounts of extra carbon dioxide released into the air. I wonder how many acres of tropical rain forest were destroyed to make room for the coffee that I’m drinking right now? What about for marijuana, or cocaine? How many acres are burned or slashed to make grazing room for fast-food beef every year? How many were cut down to be sold as commodities for hard currency, to pay the interest on loans from RICH NATIONS and BANKS, meant to help third world countries 'develop'?
Everywhere you look, you can find waste. Whether it is wasted heat in assembly or fabrication, by-products from the burning of carbon based fossil fuels, or the two, three, or even more layers of packaging that we open and discard to get to our favorite munchies (I prefer scooby-doo-fruit-snacks), we have allowed, and in some cases even encouraged, the destruction, consumption, and poisoning of any and everything that we can, as long as it makes us more comfortable and/or more money.
A standard incandescent light bulb produces approximately 10 times more heat than light. Consider that. To get the power into our homes in the first place, what went into it? For starters we can assume that a small portion of ecosystem was completely destroyed in the process of making room for and building a power station of some sort. Maybe a river was damned (spelling intentional). Maybe a few acres of forest were destroyed to make room for a coal burning power plant. But then you have to assume that the coal itself was strip mined, or in some other way extracted from the earth in a less-than-forgiving way.
It took carbon dioxide (CO2) producing machinery and 'technology' to extract it. It took CO2 producing machinery to process it. To move it. Then it is burned, which produces MASSIVE amounts of wasted heat and by-products (including, but not limited to CO2), all before it gets to this little light bulb, where ultimately more than 90 percent of the energy used to give us light is wasted. WASTED.
From solid waste, to power production, to untreated sewage being released into rivers, lakes, and oceans (because our systems combine waste water and rain water runoff, making water treatment plants overwhelmed when it rains too much), to the over salinization and erosion of top soil (due to unethical agricultural practices bent toward maximizing short term production and profits at the expense of long term sustainability), we are WASTING our home. Our planet. We are wasting our potential, and we are gambling the long term sustainability of our entire existence against quarterly profit projections and maximum short term returns on investments.
The next time you tell yourself, or someone else, that you "cherish your children's future" (or some other hollow rhetoric), take a look outside and tell me what you see. Do you see a peaceful coexistence between human beings and the rest of Nature? Do you see the 'stewardship of all things', as described in almost all major religions on Earth? Do you see a long term, sustainable pattern of life? Perhaps we should educate ourselves on the definition of 'finite'. There is only so much air. Only so much water (especially fresh water, which makes up less than 5 percent of all water on Earth). Only so many trees. As long as we CHOOSE to consume and waste more than we can restore or put back, it is a loosing equation. Given a long enough time line it becomes not a matter of 'if', but of 'when?'.We are the only species on this planet whose decisions and way of life can impact every other living thing on this planet. With great power, comes great responsibility. Unfortunately, for now, it seems our species is better defined by this: "Absolute Power Corrupts Absolutely".

I Want to be a Hell Spawned Demon When I Grow Up

2007-03-21T11:48:00.000-07:00

I watched Silent Hill last night for the 5th time. I don’t know what it is that compels me to see that movie, over and over. Starz has been playing it for about a week, now and I have been fortunate enough catch most of the showings.

I rented it last summer when it was first released on DVD and watched it twice before I had to take it back. I wanted to view a good scary movie with the lights off and this one was recommended. I didn’t think it was scary, however it was eerie. I thoroughly enjoyed the ending scene.

This movie was poorly done with mediocre actors. It is based on a Playstation game and it altered the game story considerably. Fortunately for me, I never played the game or I may not have enjoyed it as much. There are many flaws in the movie, including the story line, yet I continue to watch it. You may think no big deal, but anyone who knows me also knows I demand perfection when watching a movie of any kind. One mistake and I dismiss the entire pic. Which is why I predominately watch animated features.

So why do I so enjoy this movie? I am puzzled. Is it the element of revenge? Is it the fact that pure evil actually wins in the end? I know it wasn’t the acting, although young Jodelle Ferland did a great job. The special effects weren’t that special either. There was a lot that went unexplained and unquestioned. But, I still loved it and I will always watch it again.

Silent Hill is my number one feel good movie of the year.

*******************************************************************************

On the exact opposite end of the spectrum would be "The Black Dahlia".

"Worst Movie Ever" to quote an overweight Simpsons character. A complete waste of 2 hours and 2 minutes of my life. The only way I would ever enjoy that movie would be if I was Josh

Hartnet and I got to make out with Scarlett Johannsen and Hillary Swank. Yeah, that'll happen.

Brian De Palma, WTF? You altered the actual story from what really happened, you altered the novel and you completely F**ked up everything. Even the soundtrack smelled. There were only 2 good things about the entire film and Scarlett Johannsen owns them both.

The Black Dahlia DVD is only good for a paintball target.

Guest Blog Friday

2007-03-16T13:02:00.000-07:00

Todays guest is Ted Rall, Americas hardest hitting columnist and cartoonist.

Here is a direct link

Suckered Again:Abandonment of Vets is a Military Tradition
by Ted Rall

Americans were dismayed to learn that soldiers wounded in Afghanistan and Iraq -- "fallen heroes," as network news calls them -- were being warehoused in Building 18, a rat- and roach-infested satellite of the Army's Walter Reed Medical Center.

Disbelief turned to disgust with the disclosure that injured veterans are going bankrupt and losing their homes because the Veterans Administration (V.A.) holds up their benefit checks for years on end. Surely the men and women who fight for our country deserve better. How could such a wholesale betrayal be tolerated by a nation where "support our troops" magnets account for 20 percent-plus of total auto body surface area?

The surprise is that anyone is surprised. Every generation of warriors has marched off to war based on the pledge that they would be taken care of no matter what. America has broken that promise every time.

Abandoning men who lose their limbs and sanity in battle is a tradition that goes back to America's first war.

More than 40 years passed before Revolutionary War vets got their pensions -- by which time most had died. Of the few survivors, only those who could prove they were indigent actually collected.

At the end of the Civil War, Union Army soldiers received a $250 discharge bonus, a modest sum that didn't last long due during a postwar period of high unemployment. By 1868 New York Governor Reuben E. Fenton remarked that homeless veterans in New York State were "numbered by the thousands."

More than 300,000 soldiers were wounded in combat during World War I, but the Veterans Bureau, predecessor of the V.A., rejected all but 47,000 claims. "The Veterans Bureau," a columnist wrote in 1925, "has probably made wrecks of more men since the war than the war itself took in dead and maimed."

America's first major military defeat led to mistreatment of those who had served in the Korean War by those who said they hadn't fought hard enough. Among other indignities, P.O.W.'s were denied their back pay of $2.50 for each day of captivity.

Thousands of Vietnam vets were discarded like used tissues, reduced to homelessness and starvation after being denied adequate medical treatment and cash benefits. As recently as 2004, according to the Christian Science Monitor, "an estimated 500,000 veterans were homeless at some time during 2004 [but] the V.A. had the resources to tend to only 100,000 of them."

It took a decade after the fall of Hanoi before Vietnam vets began turning up on the streets, but troops who served in Afghanistan and Iraq have already become homeless. "This kind of inner city, urban guerrilla warfare that these veterans are facing probably accelerates mental-health problems," says Yogin Ricardo Singh, director of a veterans advocacy program in Brooklyn.

"You can have all of the yellow ribbons on cars that say 'Support Our Troops' that you want," adds Linda Boone of the National Coalition for Homeless Veterans. "But it's when they take off the uniform and transition back to civilian life that they need support the most." As usual, they're not getting it.

Two decades ago, as now, outrage generated by media reports forced Congressional blowhards and Army brass to promise to do better. But nothing changed. As it always does, the journalistic pack moved on to other stories. Politicians, slacking off as public pressure eased, went back to slashing the V.A. budget and brushing off veterans who complained of physical and mental disabilities brought on by their service. At this writing, the Bush Administration has asked Congress to slash veterans' benefits by a net seven percent.

A staggering 30 percent of the 700,000 soldiers who served the 1991 Gulf War have filed claims with the American Legion stating that they are afflicted by Gulf War Syndrome, an umbrella term covering an array of illnesses ranging from chronic fatigue and loss of muscle control to brain cancer and fibromyalgia. Congress paid benefits only to vets who'd become ill within two years of 1991 -- eliminating 95 percent of applicants from eligibility.

Researchers suggest a myriad of possible causes for GWS -- exposure to Iraqi nerve gas and burning oil wells, infectious diseases spread by parasites, a mandatory anti-anthrax vaccine -- but the smart money is on exposure to radiation released by the 286 tons of depleted uranium munitions fired by the United States in Kuwait and Iraq in 1991. Twice as dense as lead, 60 percent as radioactive as naturally occurring uranium and with a half-life of 4.5 billion years, DU is extremely toxic. Reduced to a fine airborne powder, it coated everything in the Gulf: tanks and other equipment, uniforms, lungs.

Sixteen years later, the government has yet to take its stricken Gulf War vets seriously. "I've been working on this since '93 and I've just given up hope," said Dan Fahey, a doctoral student at UC Berkeley and a Gulf War vet who has become a spokesman for the victims. "I've spoken to successive federal committees and elected officials...who then side with the Pentagon. Nothing changes."
Now get ready for Iraq War Syndrome. The 130 tons of DU dropped on Iraq in the Second Gulf War are destroying men like Herbert Reed, who ingested the substance in Samawah in July 2003. "Since he left a bombed-out train depot in Iraq," reported Wired last year, "his gums bleed. There is more blood in his urine, and still more in his stool. Bright light hurts his eyes. A tumor has been removed from his thyroid. Rashes erupt everywhere, itching so badly they seem to live inside his skin. Migraines cleave his skull. His joints ache, grating like door hinges in need of oil."

Yet the Pentagon still refuses to clean up its act. Veterans poisoned by DU haven't received a dime in compensation. DU bombs are still being dropped on Afghan villages.
"There is something massively wrong with Herbert Reed, though no one is sure what it is," continues the Wired story. "He believes he knows the cause, but he cannot convince anyone caring for him that the military's new favorite weapon has made him terrifyingly sick."
"The Department of Defense takes the position that you can eat [DU] for breakfast and it poses no threat at all," says Steve Robinson of the National Gulf War Resource Center.
Once again, politicians and their media mouthpieces will make big promises. But they'll break them. They always do.

Don't Americans who risk their lives to serve in the military deserve the same consideration as those who smoke cigarettes? Military propaganda -- television commercials, posters, video games and recruitment offices, Fox News -- ought to be plastered with a large, bold-faced notice:

WARNING: Military Service Causes Death, Mutilation, Poverty, Homelessness, and Complicated Feelings of Having Been Suckered.

Toothless in Arizona

2007-03-15T10:33:00.000-07:00

There are, at least, 2 people on the planet who firmly believe that the moon landing, Apollo 11 in 1969, was entirely faked. I won’t disclose their name names to add any credence to their claims, but, 2 old guys, from Phoenix, without a complete set of teeth between the 2 of them, swear, that NASA faked it. In 1969. Edwin Aldrin, Neil Armstrong and Michael Collins faked it in the name of science.

Their evidence:

1. The shadows in all the photos are tapered toward each other.
2. The Flag was waving while they put it in place.
3. There was no dust on any of the pod feet at the landing site.
4. Their movement on the moon matched the movement on Earth if you ran the camera at half speed.
5. There were no stars shown in any of the photographs.
6. A moon rock showed up in a photo with, what appeared to be the letter ‘c’ carved in it.
7. None of the astronauts will answer any questions regarding the lack of stars in the photos.

These are only some of the reasons given for their beliefs and they have all been refuted. I can’t understand why anyone can give these guys any reason to be to be taken seriously in the first place. Edwin Aldrin punched one of these guys a few years back.

I was only a young lad when the moon landing occurred. I remember watching the scene unfold on television. The thing I remember most was I couldn’t tell what was happening as the footage was poor and seemingly incomplete. I would like to think that if it was faked, NASA would insure that we saw everything as it unfolded.

I won't get into the rebuttal of their claims, but simply put, NASA couldn’t fake their way out of the womens room. Even today. The Russians monitored everything we did back then, (remember the space race?), they would have been the first to cry foul, and, yet, they never did.

I am no scientist, I barely have any education at all, but I, for one, have so many better things to do with my time than to try and convince others of such lunacy. (no pun intended). What I fail to understand is their motive. Does it get them on TV? Maybe a book deal? Only they know the reason, whatever it may be.

Oh, I almost forgot. This is the same crowd that believes the Earth is flat. Where is an alien abduction when you need one. Here is an interesting side story to all this. You will need to scroll down to the "The Story of a Tragedy That Was Not To Be".

In honor of these mooks, todays story is written in binary:

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Who Weeps for Abeer?

2007-03-14T11:01:00.000-07:00

Editors note: This story is going on one year old. It hasn't received much attention in the mainstream media, liberal or conservative. This story was first reported as a young 'woman' being raped. This is what this war stands for.

Link to Story

by Helen Zia

As the anniversary of the Iraq invasion approaches, another milestone has quietly passed, leaving a window into the protracted and unimaginable human costs of this war in Iraq and here at home. A year ago, 14-year-old Abeer Qassim Al-Janabi was stalked, gang-raped, shot in the head and her corpse burned in her own home in Mahmoudiya, Iraq. Four U.S. soldiers and one former soldier are charged with the crimes.

The soldiers were so confident of their abilities to achieve their intended crimes that they rounded up the Al-Janabi family from their daily chores in broad daylight. Pfc. Stephen Green allegedly shot Abeer's parents and 5-year-old sister to death in the room next to where she was being raped by Sgt. Paul Cortez. His buddy, Pfc. James Barker held the struggling, crying teenager down while two other soldiers, Pfc. Jesse Spielman and Pfc. Bryan Howard, reportedly stood watch.

All this in the middle of the day under the hot afternoon sun, March 12, 2006.
Such are the unpleasantries of invasion, war and occupation. The medical journal Lancet estimated in 2004 that at least 100,000 Iraqi civilians had been killed, more than half of them women and children. Today, in the absence of accurate figures, that number likely has been far surpassed. To Americans, far from Iraq, these are presented as the sanitized statistics of collateral damage. But the Al-Janabi rape and murders were too well documented to ignore, just as the souvenir photos taken by U.S. soldiers at Abu Ghraib prison forced Americans to see the torture being committed by their own troops.

The U.S. government and military are prosecuting the five accused men -- a sixth was charged with dereliction of duty -- without an inquiry into the pressures and rules of engagement that led "a really good kid," as Cortez was called during at his court-martial, to commit war crimes against civilians. In his sworn testimony describing how he and the others planned and carried out the rape and murders at the Al Janabi home, Cortez pointedly stated that he and his fellow defendants "weren't the only soldiers who talked about having sex with Iraqi women." In Islamic Iraq, "having sex" in this context can only mean rape.

Numerous observers, including soldiers themselves, say that abuses of Iraqi civilians are not uncommon. A report by Code Pink and the Global Exchange describes incidents where U.S. soldiers tortured female detainees, among them young girls, in the form of sexual abuse and rape, including stripping them naked, then burning their skin or dousing them with water. Sometimes women were tortured in prison cells near their husbands so that their screams could be used to torture the Muslim male detainees.

Under the War Crimes Act of 1996, which Congress passed overwhelmingly so that the United States could, under the Geneva Convention, prosecute North Vietnamese who tortured U.S. soldiers during the war in Vietnam, it is a federal crime for any U.S. national, whether military or civilian, to violate the Geneva Convention by engaging in murder, torture or inhuman treatment. Significantly, the statute applies not only to those who carry out the acts, but also to those who order it, know about it, or fail to take steps to stop it. Yet no officers or military brass have been questioned for their gross failure to stop the crimes in Abeer's home -- let alone for any military policies that contributed to these abuses. This is not surprising in an administration that has demonstrated, time and again, its predilection for blaming a fall guy and refusing to hold accountable those higher up in authority.

The White House and Pentagon choose to eschew prosecution for such crimes under the War Crimes Act, because it could implicate their own responsibility. However, their failure to recognize such war crimes also makes it impossible to acknowledge the psychological harm done to the soldiers who have been placed in horrific situations that can turn a really good kid into a war criminal. Where will returning soldiers get the treatment they need if they have been witnesses to or participants in war crimes and abuse of Iraqi civilians?

Family counselors and military mental-health workers have long recognized the psychological trauma exhibited by veterans of Iraq -- and that too little help is available for them. Only six counseling sessions are allowed for soldiers who are referred for service. Soldiers can also get counseling services through mental-health clinics, but mental-health visits are noted on their military records -- and thus can be used against them. For example, airborne soldiers cannot fly if they are being treated for depression, a career ender for troops in the 101st Airborne Battalion -- to which the five soldiers involved in the rape and killing of Abeer and her family belonged.
About 1.4 million soldiers, reservists and National Guard have served in Iraq and Afghanistan. So have several hundred thousand private contractors, such as truck drivers, who must traverse roads laced with Improvised Explosive Devices.

Because of low levels of enlistment, more than 125,000 "moral waivers" have been granted to enlistees who previously would have been rejected for service -- some because of criminal backgrounds. All are subject to the serious effects of post-traumatic stress disorders and other mental health problems, yet the resources to help them and their families are too few.
Even as politicians call for national probes into the lapses at Walter Reed Army Medical Center in the medical treatment of returning soldiers, little mention is made of their mental health needs. If these veterans and private contractors don't get treatment for their invisible wounds, all of society will suffer with them.

At the end of his court-martial, Cortez apologized to brothers of Abeer Qassim Al-Janabi for turning them into orphans. His sentence for the capital war crimes he committed: 100 years, with possible parole in 10, minus his time served. For committing the gang rape of Abeer and four murders, he could be out in nine years. One can only hope that he receives the treatment he needs during his confinement before he rejoins the general population.

Cortez paused to wipe his tears at several points during his testimony, becoming most emotional when he expressed his remorse for letting his fellow soldiers down. But one year after the war atrocities that took her young life with violence and terror, who weeps for Abeer?

Your Call May be Monitored to Assure Quality

2007-03-13T11:47:00.000-07:00

Life is like the Flintstones. You go to see a movie with the family and afterwards you stop at the local drive-in and order a rack of ribs. As the waitress places them on the window clip and walks away, your car tips over.

Or is it more like the Jetsons? As you walk your dog on the automato-walk-a-dog-otron, it suddenly takes off, going faster than you can possibly run, causing you to be pulled through the conveyor several times before your wife can stop the crazy thing.

Why can’t it be more like I Dream of Jeannie. Where one finds an old bottle lying around and decides to take it home. Upon cleaning it off, you discover that inside the bottle is a beautiful, smoking hot babe, willing to grant you any wish you could possibly desire.

Even an episode of Johnny Quest would be nice. Imagine, for a moment, that your dad is a famous scientist. So famous that he needs a personal body guard. And, as his son, you can keep whomever you choose. In this case, it will be a young boy from Punjab, Hajji.

You would travel all across the globe having adventures and getting kidnapped, only to be freed by, (pick one), said friend, Hajji, you miniature bulldog, the bodyguard, having loose knots in the rope to begin with, your dad the scientist, a kidnapping sympathizer. The list goes on. Regardless, you get freed during every episode and never get hurt in the process, and you get to fly/drive in the coolest stuff.

No, it is more like the Flintstones. Work in a gravel pit for a mean boss. Walk around barefoot all day. Having to shave with a clamshell full of bees. Marrying a babe then sleeping in a separate bed. Bowling with a rock. The only thing good about being a Flintstone would be having Barney as your best friend….wait…..maybe not, that would be a matter of perspective, I think.

Yes. Life is like the Flintstones.

So Long Richard Jeni

2007-03-12T11:55:00.000-07:00

What a rotten weekend. On many levels.

Richard Jeni commits suicide. Brad Delp, lead singer for Boston, was found dead in his home. Bill O'Reilly blames the death of those kids who died in a New York city row house fire on one of his fans. The Surgeon General resigned/stepped down/was fired, (pick one), in the aftermath of the Walter Reed scandal. Halliburton is moving its operations to Dubai, and Kasey Kahne tagged the wall with 9 laps to go in Las Vegas.

I suppose it could be worse. I live near a nuclear submarine base. I am so fortunate that there hasn’t been any terrorist attacks on it yet. There were 2, 70 year old nuns that attempted to scale the fence. Fortunately, the crack security team was able to apprehend them before they detonated their habits. Thank you homeland security for saving me.

Seattle city council wants to make it a crime to Boo the opposing team at sporting events. Yeah, that’s right. Booing. Hard to believe, I know. They also want to build a tunnel within 100 feet of Puget Sound. Go fig.

King county, which is named after Vice President Rufus King, who was VP to President Pierce, wants to change the name to King county in honor of Dr. Martin L. King, the civil rights activist. No, they aren’t really changing the name, but they are. They spent $600,000 on a new logo which is more of a wanted poster than anything else. Not to mention a waste of taxpayer funds. King county is King county.

My best friend is always sending me screenshots of the coolest games, knowing full well that my ancient computer can’t run them. I really enjoy the way graphics have developed and I would love to play on some of these new games, but a new computer just isn’t in my budget just yet. I his defense, though, he did say that he wishes he was rich so he could buy me a new system. Bless his heart. And, yes, the new CnC is absolutely amazing.

And then my sisters car broke down..

Cut the bottom six inches off your blankie.

2007-03-11T12:05:00.000-07:00

Ahhh. Sunday morning. Hot, thick, black coffee. Walking around in a bathrobe. It is a bit drizzly outside, so I wont be going anywhere anytime soon. In fact, I think the only thing I have scheduled today is watching a race. That’s right, I said it. A car race. Must be the southern blood in me. But all the southern blood could never bring me to accept……

TIME CHANGE

What the monkey? Whose idea was this in the first place? Move your clocks forward in the spring and then back again in the fall. Then our Glorious leader decides to extend the ‘spring forward’ time in an effort to ‘save energy’. Well, I guess I must have some serious mental issues, as I just don’t get it.

Daylight savings is akin to sleeping in a bed, but the blanket doesn’t cover you completely. So, in an effort to rectify this, you cut off 6 inches off the foot of the blanket and then sew it back on to the top. This way you are covered at the shoulder. No, wait…..but now your feet are exposed…..hold on. I don’t get it.

That is my point. Illogical, pointless and just plain stupid. Our local newspaper, (Sunday edition is less than a half inch thick, folded, with ads), ran a poll, of for individuals asking their opinion of the time change. They were all for it, one person even said, “it will be nice to have that extra hour.” Such a nice representation of this area.

No story today, just a rant. After all, it is Sunday, you don’t need to be on the internet anyway. Sunday is for TV watching.

Rocks, Trains and Toilets

2007-03-09T17:27:00.000-08:00

Welcome to the Northwest.

I have heard it said that the largest temperate rainforest is located in Washington State. I believe it. Not that I have anything against the rain. I like it, since our summers of late have been real scorchers. Super hot with no breeze. At least we don't get the humidity.

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Many years ago, when I was a lad, our family lived together on a small boat located at one of the areas marinas. I spent all my high school years living with 6 family members, 2 dogs and a cat on this vessel. Every year, prior to school starting, we would take a cruise northward to some islands located in northern Puget Sound, near Canada. We would usually spend a week there and it was always a good time for all.

One year, in particular, as we were motoring northward. The day was beautiful and the seas were calm. I was at the helm and Dear old Dad was at my side going over some charts, plotting our next course, when, all of a sudden, the boat lurched out of the water, banging on a rock, some 3 feet under the surface. Considering the draught of the boat was almost 6 feet, we hit hard and at speed.

Being just a lad, I knew that we were in for it. I quickly backed away from the helm letting the Master take control. He powered down immediately and took the engine out of gear. As we floated there, for a brief time, it seemed all was lost. I went aft and Dad put the motor in gear. I signaled to him that we had positive prop wash and a few turns of the wheel meant that the rudder was still intact.

Since we weren’t taking on water and the rudder and screw still functioned we must have just bounced across the rock, which we eventually discovered on the chart, as it was clearly marked as a hazard, we continued on our journey.

The following summer, it was decided that we needed to haul out the boat and work on whatever damage we encountered. We piloted the boat to our friendly. Neighborhood boat yard and hauled her out and began to effect repair. It was a 3-month ordeal.

It turns out the boat yard was in the vicinity of Washington States farmland. Everywhere around us was one farm or another. Most of the states produce was grown in this area. Everywhere there was a produce farm.

Work on the boat was a regular day job for my Dad, my brother and myself. We, also, enlisted the help of a family friend, Mike, to assist with the repair work. Since most of the work could only be done during the business hours of the local shop, we, generally, knocked off about 3:00 PM. Since we had our evenings free and nothing to do, it wasn’t long before Mike started suggesting a few things we could do with our free time. One idea was to perform nightly raids of the nearby farms, gleaning, (stealing), fresh produce.

One evening, we set out to perform our nightly raid. We didn’t necessarily know what veggies we were after, usually, until Mike dropped us off, in stealth mode, at the edge of the plantation. This particular night, Mike wanted some squash, so he parked the van and came along with us. As we were making our way through this particular plantation, we noticed a huge berm running right thru the middle of it. We paid little attention, as we were too busy trying to identify the type of squash that was planted. During the identification process, Mike decided that it was necessary for him to relieve himself. Since Mike was the well traveled individual that he was, he had, in his pocket, a roll of toilet paper and was quite prepared to “take care of his business” in the field, so to speak.

He sauntered over near the edge of the berm to do his thing, as my brother and I waited, patiently by a squash patch. After all, it might be a minute, or two. As we were waiting, we noticed a very bright light, seeming to come at us, right through the middle of the squash patch. It wasn’t long before we realized the it was a train and the berm was where the track was located. Seeing the light coming at us, we, instinctively, got down, so not to be seen.

Just then, the oncoming Amtrak, full of passengers, blew its horn and illuminated the entire patch with its forward-looking light. The sound was deafening. As I sat up to cover my ears, I noticed Mike, who, in the middle of his business, had been caught by the trains light. Still squatting, he hopped, the best he could for cover, complete with a trail of TP following close behind him. Mike was on the stage for the world to see, the string of toilet paper added so much to the sight.

Having to pinch it off, the inability to wipe and the spectacular view all the passengers received was priceless. We didn’t get any veggies that night and it was a long time before we went out again.

Opening Post

2007-03-08T18:12:00.000-08:00

Thanks for stopping by. I hope you enjoy what you see here. As this is my first post, there isn't much here, but, as time goes on, I hope to make this quite the entertaining site.

I won't be moderating any post, however, I do ask that you keep your post clean, threaten no one and try to keep it rated PG at the least. I reserve the right to delete any posts I feel are offensive or otherwise cruel.

Here is a story.

Many years ago, when I lived in California, my sister and I visited some friends of mine who were having a party. There was plenty of drink, loud music and, of course, girls. My sister, who was studying pharmacology at the time, brought, with her, some 'samples'. There was some weed at this party and Sis offered to trade some of her 'samples' for a bit of weed. I was standing in a corner macking on some of the ladies, but I witnessed her handing some pills to one of the guys there in exchange for the weed. The guy held out his hand and accepted about 3 little pills and promptly swallowed them with his beer. When I saw this, I went over to him and stated that he better know what he was doing, as he just took who knows what while he was drinking. He looked at me and said "Party"!

About a week later I was visiting my friend whose house had the party and I ran across the guy who swallowed the pills. I asked him how he was and then proceeded to question him on his decision to take the medication while drinking, not knowing what he was taking. He told me that he had been unconscious for 3 days. I just laughed.