Sunday, December 31, 2006
A Great Article on Mature Love
Thoughts on Romantic Love
by Wendy Freebourne
"Philosophers have defined different kinds of love, ranging from fellowship to sexual attraction. Much has been written about romantic love.
What happens when you fall in love? Love is a state of being, not something you fall into. It is not dependent on another person. You can be in a state of love on your own. When you do love another person, you grow to love them, as you get to know them. You cannot love what you do not yet know.
In love at first sight you feel as if you know the other person. There is a recognition of something about them that you confuse with love, because you like it; it fits with a pattern of knowledge, conscious or unconscious, that you have about the kind of person you want to be with, who will suit you, because they are like you, or because they have some quality that you believe you lack. This person you recognise may have the potential to be that person you are looking for, but they may not be manifesting that potential. That is why love at first sight can be a let-down, why it often turns sour. You need to know the person in reality, not only in fantasy. You need to know how they are living their life. If this checks out, then you have a chance of a lasting relationship.
But this is where you can get into difficulty. If they are not manifesting the way you want them to be, you try to change them. You have fallen in love with your own reflection. This is where you confuse love with longing, which is what you have really fallen into. This is a sign that you are not being who you really are; not manifesting your own potential. Longing is not a joyous feeling; it is not uplifting, as love is. Longing is painful; it is a state of grieving. You are longing to be reunited with your own lost soul, your self that you have been separated from, through your upbringing and your conditioning, through having to adapt to an environment which has not enabled you to be who you are, and left you unable to fulfil your own potential. You are grieving that loss. You want someone to comfort you.
You try to fulfil this potential through another person. You want love, but you seek someone who you imagine will enable you to be the person you are not yet being, who will help you to heal yourself. Often this person lets you down, because they cannot do this, and you come to know love as painful. That pain becomes a familiar feeling which you identify as love. It is not. It is longing.
You may feel love in this state of longing, but it is an undifferentiated love. It does not discriminate. You need to discriminate in choosing a partner. You need someone who is safe for you to be with. You need a healthy, mature relationship. Because you cannot differentiate, because you have fallen in longing with the reflection of your lost self, you do not know where you end and the other person begins. You lose your boundaries. You merge with the other person.
This merging in dangerous, because you lose your identity, your individuality, which you need to function in the world. For a while, you also lose your false self, the one you have adopted to cope. You gain your sense of self from the relationship and cannot function alone. You become dependent and feel you cannot live without this person, because you cease to be without them to confirm your identity. You are in conflict. Your false self, the one you have used as a coping mechanism, surfaces again, and upsets your partner, because that is not who they fell in love with.
You do not register this danger, because you have come to associate its feeling with the thrill of falling in love. It is familiar and goes along with the illusion of love, which you want. When the object of your love turns out not to be what you want them to be, you fall out of love; you stop loving. You have not fallen in love, but into fantasy.
Often the longing is a spiritual feeling. You are longing for God. You make a god of the person you fall in love with, when you are really longing for our own divinity. You give them responsibility for your life, and power over you, rather than taking up your own responsibility and your own power.
You can also fall in lust, and confuse love with sexuality. Sex becomes the obsession, with which you kill the pain of longing, merge into oceanic bliss and fill up your emptiness. You can have sex without love. You can have love without sex. Or you can have them together. There are many euphemisms for the latter. I like to call it union, or marriage, which may or may not be formalised, legalised, but is, nonetheless, a state of being; two people being, together. It is a sexual and spiritual partnership. One without the other is not a true marriage.
If you are not united with yourself, with your own soul, if you do not have an inner marriage, you will not be able to marry with another person; you will merge instead. If you do not have a sense of your own self, an identity and an individuality, you will not be able to share who you are in partnership, sexual or otherwise. If you are not in control of your own sexuality and need it validated by another person, you will not be able to share it in a healthy way. You will not be able to bond in love or sex; you will merge in longing and lust instead.
Excitement, stimulation and attraction to another body, another person's sexuality, is not love. In itself it is lust, healthy or otherwise.
When you are obsessing about another person, you are avoiding pain, a pain that may have been awakened by your contact with that person, or an emptiness you feel and are trying to fill up with your fantasies. Obsession does not mean that you love them.
These ways of `falling' in love are obsessive, and addictive. You find yourself repeating patterns, seeking `fixes' of love and sex. You call your emotions something else. This denial deadens you. You ignore the fear and enjoy the danger. Adrenaline wakes you up, makes you feel alive. You become addicted to the highs it gives you. You ignore the reality of your relationships, the unsuitability of your partners, or their dysfunctions, and try to live with your fantasies, and make them into the people you would like them to be, the people who you falsely believe would enable you to be the person you want to be. You adapt yourself to fit into relationships that don't really suit you in order to get your needs met, rather than seeking the resources to meet them within yourself.
So what is real love? Love is a feeling. It feels the same whether you are feeling it for someone, something or just in yourself. Love is a feeling you can have for yourself and, when you don't, you try to seek it from other people, or you try to find people who you can love. It starts from loving yourself, having your heart open, and not being goal oriented. You don't ever stop loving someone once you have grown to love them. If you love them you can let them go, to do whatever they may need to do, even if it hurts; you do not need to hold on to them. You can let them be who they are, without trying to control or manipulate them. In practice this is quite difficult for many people to do, because we do have needs too.
So you confuse loving with needing, with dependency. You cannot love when you are needy, when you are still trying to fulfil your unfulfilled, self-centred infantile needs. When these needs are resolved and you are independent, then you can inter-depend with other people; you can love unconditionally. You do not trade favours or bargain for love. You give out of generosity, from the fullness of your heart that you have filled from your inner resources, not for what you can receive in exchange. You do not use people or let them use you in return for having them rescue you or take responsibility for you. Nor do you take other people's responsibility away from them, which is an injustice.
We confuse loving with liking, and people with behaviours. We may love a person but dislike their behaviour. It is OK to dislike the behaviour of people we love. That does not mean that we have to tolerate that behaviour. It is our task to love ourselves, and not to tolerate abusiveness. We love others by making clear boundaries, by discrimination and clarity, by stating what we want and what we don't and by avoiding the latter if we have to. Martyrs are not loving people, nor are those who sacrifice their own souls and rescue others, enabling their abusiveness.
You can also confuse love with desire. You may love somebody, but you do not want them sexually, or they may not be a suitable partner. You may feel lust for them, but not like them as a person, in the way that they are manifesting. You may feel desire for a person that it is not appropriate to be sexual with. You have choices. However, love itself is the same feeling whenever you feel it and whoever you feel it for. You feel the same love for your children as you do for your lover. The difference is that, with your children, you do not feel desire and, if you do at any time, and you love them, then you do not act on it. Nor do you, if you love them, act on desire that you feel for any other person who you do not intend to make a committed sexual relationship, a marriage, with. If you do, then you are not loving them, you are using them, and yourself.
This is the nature of mature love. It has discipline, clear boundaries. It has self-responsibility and integrity; compassion, the ability to feel with. It is fulfilling and uplifting, joyous. Even though you may experience losses, you are able to grieve, and let go. Love is never ever painful, only loss is.
In immature love you are trying to meet your unmet infantile needs. In your regression, your feeling of helplessness, you cannot see outside yourself; you are selfish. People become need-fulfilling objects, love objects, because you do have a need to love. But you love inappropriately, indiscriminately, re-enacting old losses, often choosing abusive people, repeating the patterns of your childhood, meeting the same inadequacies, people unable to meet your needs for you.
It is only when you recognise your immaturity, accept what you didn't get then, and that you do not need it now, that you can grieve its loss, together with the loss of your self that you suffered because of these deprivations, and move on. You can then assess your present needs appropriately and get them met realistically, learning to parent yourself in the process. In this way you find your true self again and fulfill yourself from your own resources.
You no longer look to others for your sense of self, or to make a fulfilling life for you. You are no longer dependent on them. At this stage you can share who you are and what you have in healthy ways, without losing your boundaries. You can love others because you love yourself. You no longer feel lonely in and out of relationship because you are at one with yourself; you are being who you are. You lose your fear of abandonment. You are no longer grasping and demanding, or getting rejected. You no longer feel resentment.
When you are able to discriminate you can choose a suitable sexual partner. You can make a commitment without fear. Your sexual partnership, being a healthy one, produces love. It is not exclusive. This love spreads to other relationships. Because there is only one kind of love, you are not dependent on your sexual partner alone for love, or on being in a sexual relationship in order to love and be loved. You are no longer pairing for safety and security, but to express love creatively."
Adapted from a paper published in the Association for Humanistic Psychology In Britain Newsletter, New Year 1984
Titans Get all the Breaks and Forget to Win
The weather was rainy and terrible in the first half, and the field was badly chewed up from the rain and the Music City Bowl earlier in the week. Other than one missed Titans' FG though, it didn't seem the weather had too much of an impact on the game. Tennessee just plain got beat and missed out on the playoffs in the process. Between a porous run defense, a non-existent pass rush, a pair of costly turnovers, and a handful of costly penalties, and an inability to score touchdowns instead of field goals inside the Patriots' 20 yard line, they had no chance to win against a superior team.
Thus, the Titans finish the season 8-8, which is remarkable given their 0-5 start, but they'll be left to wonder what might have been had they been able to execute and win today and get into the playoffs. They have momentum headed into the offseason and are looking at a mid-first round pick in the 2007 draft. If they expect to make the playoffs next year, in addition to better execution and less reliance on miracle comebacks, they have to upgrade their personnel at one safety and one CB position, both the offensive and defensive lines, and they need to find a #1 WR because they have a team full of second and third wideouts but no number one WR.
P.S.-- In the Capital One Bowl tomorrow, the Vols take on Penn State on New Year's Day. PSU RB Tony Hunt will get his yards and UT will miss slot receiver Bret Smith, but UT's team speed will be too much and they should take this one, 31-20.
P.P.S.-- I'm a bit under the weather and will likely be spending this New Year's Eve in as a result, but I'm wishing all my friends and family a happy, fun, and safe night ringing in 2007...love you all!
Saturday, December 30, 2006
Overdoing it Just a Tad?
So if that's the case, why, you might ask, would someone as otherwise together as me act like John Cusack in the beginning of "Must Love Dogs" (i.e., like a brilliant but an occasionally quasi-crazy person)? Fine question, I'm glad you asked...please step into my nightmare, it's still warm :) I've met my share of women, dated a few of them seriously, and had lots of experiences, some good and others not so good. The point is that all of them did end (mostly not at my request), and I took that as a sign that I needed to get my priorities in order before getting into another serious relationship. With a little time and lots of hard work, I accomplished just that. While that was/is definitely a positive and necessary journey for me, it meant I was single for quite some time. It also meant I hadn't dated anyone seriously since I got things right with the Lord. It's there that we enter Friday night and the run-up thereto.
She and I had been talking for about a week, and things had been going famously, I mean really super. It was like we both couldn't believe that people like one another even existed, much less that we would find one another and be mutually interested. I am not sure exactly at what point it happened, but somehow things began to go a little sideways. Imagine a man dying of thirst in an arid desert. Now imagine someone handing that same man a glass of ice cold water...the temptation for the man is to gulp the water, potentially making himself sick in the process.
So it was with me and trying to do too much too soon. I overdid it with the compliments, planned too much ahead of time assuming it would be OK (and we all know what assuming does), and just got ahead of myself and reality in general. The headline on her page says, "Don't chase me anymore, not unless you are willing to catch me...". I am definitely willing to pursue her and I would like to catch her, but it isn't necessary to try to do all that in the first weekend we meet, and then tackle her and do a celebration dance on top of that...just too much. Or, to borrow from my earlier analogy, intermittently sipping the water would be much more healthy on the front end. We're both young, there's nothing but time ahead of us, and there's no need to rush.
Then, we were supposed to go to the Titans/Patriots game on Sunday, until she texted me Saturday night telling me she couldn't make it because she needed to help her sister move in. My somewhat terse (in retrospect) response was , "It happens." What I meant by that was that I understand that things like this happen, but I am positive it did not come off that way, and that's no one's fault but mine. I tired to send a remedial message later with no response. Although more notice of cancellation would have been appreciated, sometimes life just happens that way and there's nothing that can be done about it. Also, family is family, and family comes first. She's known her sister for all of her sis's 19 years on this planet, and she's really only known me for less than 19 days...it's just no contest. If my brother needed me, I'd be there in a heartbeat just the same way she was for her sister. She did the right thing and I reacted improperly. Even though I meant nothing untoward by my response, the responsibility for my reply lies only with me.
Simply put, I don't have an excuse or even a good reason for either of these things, and I won't offer one or lamely try to deflect blame onto something else. Being sick, tired, and/or bummed out just doesn't cut it. As part of my spiritual walk, it is incumbent upon me to apologize and ask for forgiveness when I realize I've done something(s) I shouldn't have, so that's what I am doing here and will do with her personally if given the opportunity. Like John Cusack in "Must Love Dogs", this woman didn't see my A, B, or C game this weekend...not good times. Also just like in the movie, I am now off the bench in the game of love and I am certainly interested in her. I know that I have no claim on her and that's she's perfectly within her prerogative if she tells me to take a hike at this point. My hope, however, is that this fantastic woman will remember all the things she liked about me on the front end and give me a mulligan, whether I deserve it or not. If I'm fortunate enough to receive such a pass, I'll do all I can to make it worth her while. ;)
Friday, December 29, 2006
Bar Sanctions for Nifong Only the First Shoe...?
Thursday, December 28, 2006
No, It Couldn't Possibly Be...Wait, Could It?!
I remember reading this blog post of the special woman who is on my heart and mind at this moment which wondered aloud how much nicer the world in general and people's love lives would be if we lived every day with the warmth and generosity of the Christmas season, and it really touched my heart. Until Christmas night this year, I'd heard people say to me so many times that God would most bless you and bring you your heart's desire when you stopped looking that I wanted to puke when I heard that on a good day and slap them if they said it on a bad one. But what if...? Just what if it really is true? It couldn't possibly be that after running the good race with integrity and honesty for so long and coming up short, being a solid man and a hopeful romantic somehow no one thinks worthy of keeping around for the long haul, and finding yourself at the point (even with my spiritual priorities finally right) that your heart honestly feels like it just can't take anymore, that God would choose that moment to pen the opening chapters of your fairy tale...could it?
I am now 24 hours and counting from beginning the journey of answering those questions I just posed above, and I am, at once, a mixture of giddiness, desire, and yes, even a little bit of fear. I am a textbook example of a man who doesn't count his chickens until they are running around the farm and making eggs of their own, but at this one, I am excited and hopeful in a way that I can't ever recall being before. My prayer for me and all of my friends and loved ones is and has been that, if/when we encounter something amazing, we have the courage to look our cynicism and our pasts square in the eye and believe in the possibilities of greatness that could be in spite of it all...that we not dismiss these possibilities out of hand simply because it doesn't look like anything we've seen before or might require things of us we are unsure if we can give or do...and that once those doubts are faced down, that we step out in faith and enjoy the journey, wherever it leads. I thank God for the strength He has given and yet will provide me to live out this prayer, and as it just so happens, that's exactly my plan for tomorrow night...and it can't possibly arrive soon enough to suit me. :)
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
1910 Meets 2006...?
William Butler Yeats (1910)
I WHISPERED, 'I am too young.'
And then, 'I am old enough';
Wherefore I threw a penny
To find out if I might love.
'Go and love, go and love, young man,
If the lady be young and fair.'
Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
I am looped in the loops of her hair.
O love is the crooked thing,
There is nobody wise enough
To find out all that is in it,
For he would be thinking of love
Till the stars had run away
And the shadows eaten the moon.
Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
One cannot begin it too soon.
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
Saddam Hussein, Your Thirty Days to Live Starts Now
Monday, December 25, 2006
Merry Christmas to All
Sunday, December 24, 2006
Vince Young is Fun to Watch and a Class Act
My thoughts on the subject: I feared when we drafted Vince Young the Titans would have a repeat of Steve McNair. VY did come from a bigger school (Texas) with better supporting talent, and he had won a national title. Realistically though, I thought that despite his talent, Young was a player who also had a very limited ceiling and would make too many negative plays, big and small, to get to or go very far in the NFL playoffs (i.e. McNair short-hopping receivers who were wide open on a 5 yard out pattern or sailing deep balls into the stands or into the arms of a defender).
At this point, those concerns have been eased quite a bit. He's still a rookie who is growing as a player, and he will still make some terrible plays characteristic of all young signal callers. That said, he is an absolutely an electric playmaker, as well as an every-down home run threat with both his legs and his arm (unlike Falcons' QB Michael Vick, who is one of the fastest NFL players alive but a mediocre to sorry NFL QB because no one respects his passing skills). More than that though, he just has "it", that same intangible but very real thing Michael Jordan and Larry Bird had...the ability to focus and raise both their play and the play of their teammates at crunch time. If he matches their work ethic, he has the chance to become a truly special player. Perhaps most importantly though, bottom line, he just wins football games.
Saturday, December 23, 2006
A Fine Weekend Reading Assignment from Mrs. DuToit
"Just as surely as the sun will set in the West, there are some things that we can rely on. We can’t rely on everything, of course, but many things are so constant and reliable, we can think of them as absolutes. ...
It is inherently wrong to limit a person (options, rights, opportunity) based on the family, clan, or tribe into which they were born. A person can’t choose that. You can’t choose your family name or your heritage. It is, however, perfectly reasonable (and appropriate) to do so based on the character and behavior of an individual, and it was that where some of the commenters got it wrong, or missed my point. This is because a person CHOOSES that. Every individual makes choices and it is by their choices that they may be judged. ...
Trust is earned. Once lost, it is incredibly difficult to regain it. And that is why there is so much emphasis on not losing it, on not tossing away your honor and “good name.” You may not ever get it back and that is the true punishment for wrecklessness. Any transgressions on the road to trust recovery can (and should) be viewed much more critically than someone who never stepped so far off the reservation. I say that last thing a lot, Trust is earned. I say it so much it may be something I harp about. I say it a lot because people don’t get that.
You shouldn’t trust anyone who hasn’t earned your trust. You should extend to strangers a limited trust, giving many the opportunity to earn it, but it is a gradual thing. If someone demonstrates that they are flaky or has a history of being someone with a trust issue, then you don’t have to extend them the opportunity, or give them a pass. They have to start from scratch on the trust-earned scale, and should not be trusted. More importantly, they have to earn their trust from someone besides me. I’m not going to be their laboratory. ...
Reasonable suspicion is enough to bar someone from your house (and your life). It may not be enough to convict someone in the court of law, but we’re not talking about the court of law. We’re talking about our everyday dealings with people, and they don’t have to rise to that standard. ...
You can have and use whatever standard you want in deciding if someone is going to be your friend. You don’t have to explain your standards or reasoning to anyone. You can be as tight with your requirements and as strict in your rules as you feel necessary in choosing your intimate relations. I’d argue you should be extremely cautious about who you allow into your cadre of associates. If that means your friend pool is limited to a few close friends, great. The fewer the better! What is more important than volume is quality.
Judgmental is a GOOD thing. It is so good, in fact, I am constantly in a state of evaluation if I’m being judgmental enough. I WANT to be judgmental. I want to be judgmental about everything. I am an elitist, a snob, a complete shrew when it comes to the quality of things in my life. I’m always amused when someone throws the “You’re a snob” or “That’s elitist” lob at me, as if that is a label or behavior I would want to avoid. On the contrary, I wear it like a badge of honor, an award, a great big “this is what I’m striving for… my life’s ambition and goal.”
I am using judgment in ALL aspects of my life. I want the BEST that life has to offer, in all things. That’s what the focus of my life is all about, figuring out what is THE BEST, and wanting nothing but that. I want the best food, to be surrounded by things that are beautiful. I want to read the best literature, listen to the best music, and eat the greatest cuisine the world has to offer. And, of course, I want to be surrounded by people who are the best. I want their best. I want their best thoughts. I want them to rise to their greatest potential, to be the greatest they can be, at whatever floats their boat. I choose my friends carefully, from a very limited pool, and have no problems discarding people who I don’t think live up to my standards.
The “crowd” (ie, the great unwashed masses) are not polite society. It doesn’t matter if they are the majority. Lots of people doing something stupid doesn’t make it not stupid. The majority of everything isn’t worth the time of day. The majority of food consumed is garbage. The majority of movies made aren’t worth the celluloid. The majority of music is crap. Just because a lot of people do something (such as getting tattoos) doesn’t make it acceptable or proper, and more importantly, it doesn’t make it good. Being able to withstand the social pressure to do something the masses are doing to “fit in” is what character means. It demonstrates character to do the right thing, regardless of how many people are doing the wrong thing. ...
Now the flip side of “fitting in” is the desire to demonstrate the reverse—to be intentionally contrary. Better isn’t necessarily opposite. It can be, but as a general philosophy, it is a mistake. It is just as silly to buck everything as it is to accept everything. ...
Just as surely as the sun will set in the west, there are things that are the best, the most beautiful, and the most wonderful. The trick, however, is in figuring out what that means, and what those things are. It is not the destination. It is the journey. If you think you’re done, if you think you’ve arrived, you’ve failed. You are never done and as long as you are comfortable with that, you’ll do just fine."
Friday, December 22, 2006
Railroading Durham DA's Case Begins its Collapse
"Sadly, as we all know, Nifong will face absolutely no consequences for his lawless, criminal behavior, seeing as how he belongs to the royal class of civil “servants” that, for some unknown reason, are immune from the law. Somebody please explain to me how and why D.A.s are immune from criminal charges, even when their behavior is obviously criminal. We already know about royal immunity from the law, but we were under the impression that this country had given up on backwards, feudal “law.”
Obviously we were wrong.
In a just society, Nifong would be disbarred, sent to prison for a very, VERY long time and be held personally liable for every penny of financial damages to the families of those kids. With interest. Compounded. And he’d be working in a uranium mine until every last cent had been paid back or until he croaked from radiation poisoning, whichever happened first.
But we don’t live in a just society, so absolutely nothing will happen to him.
He’ll probably be offered a book and a film deal."
Thursday, December 21, 2006
My First Blog Post
--Chris :)
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
The "Drew Bledsoe" Blog
The NFL's Dallas Cowboys replaced Drew Bledsoe, their starting QB from the beginning of the season (who was washed up 5 years ago and was playing this season imitating a statue and with a giant salad for sticking out of his back) with their former backup QB Tony Romo several weeks ago. Since he became the starter, Romo has provided the team a desperately needed spark, earned a spot in this year's Pro Bowl and has led the Cowboys on a run that might end with them as division champions. Drew Bledsoe is a professional and has said all the right things about being replaced and the team succeeding in his absence...but what if that weren't the case? The blog below is what Drew Bledsoe (or any other athlete who has ever been replaced for that matter) would say if he could, and I haven't stopped laughing yet. There's a definite language alert in effect, and I've posted the text of the first substantive entry below...now go read already, there's hilarity afoot. :)
It Begins.
"I just can't shake the image of that play out of my mind's eye. I woke up this morning in the same bed I woke up yesterday morning. Same physical body, but mentally I am a completely different person. I am a back up. This feeling is oddly familiar. 6 AM, I need to sleep more. I close my eyes.
I take the snap. I see Terry (I call him Terry because we're teammates) make a quick out, running away from me. I can't stand it. I open my eyes. I can't sleep. I toss and turn. If only I can move this well in the pocket. Ha ha. I'm so self deprecating -- but in a good way. I need more rest. I close my eyes.
Terry opens his hands, I release the ball. Tight spiral. Touchdown. We're going into this half with a lead. But then out of nowhere... Sam Fucking Madison appears. I open my eyes. I wonder if Buffalo needs a QB. Losman? More like Lost-Man. Haha, Nice. 6:15 AM. I still can't sleep.
You know, I told Jerry before the game, "Should we really paint the endzone the same shade of blue as the Giants uniforms? It can't seem like a good idea to camoflauge their defenders..." He told me not to worry about it. I wonder what that means...I close my eyes.
Sam Madison picks off my, otherwise flawless, pass, tip toes his way outta bounds. One foot in. Two feet in. Shit. Three feet in. Four. Okay, stop showing off, dickface, I get it. Five feet in. I wanna puke. I don't remember much after that. I know there was a second half. I spent the majority of it sorta glazing off into outer space, mulling over the best way to write my first blog entry. I was a creative writing minor at Washington State, remember. So this is it. My first of many blog entries. I think it'll keep me entertained and alive... I know I've got pretty much nothing else to live for. I hope you stick around. Oh, and as for the name, TonyRomo.com was taken, so I just chose this one. Also, that faggot stole my starting job."
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
The Wisdom of Vince Vaughn, as Jeremy in "Wedding Crashers"
Monday, December 18, 2006
"The Road Less Traveled", by Robert Frost
During my experience at Boot Camp (a spiritual experience, not the military), we were asked to pretend that everyone in the room had died except for a very few people. I was among the "dead", and we had to write our own epitaphs for our gravestones, and mine was "Here lies Chris, dead of a lack of faith and forgiveness." The latter I am doing substantially better with than I ever thought possible, while the former is proving much more difficult. It's strange, because I am in a better place than I am when trying to figure out a way to start writing a paper (back in school days) or some creative work from a blank page. Not only do I have some material to start with, I've even managed quite a few steps down the path of living in faith, with some encouraging successes (a few big, others smaller) to my credit in so doing. The problem is that living by faith, much like any other creative endeavor, is an ongoing process. No more than a songwriter can quit writing an album after producing a killer chorus and hook for a single song, can I rest on past successes of living by faith. The reason for this is that life is learned looking backward, experienced in the present, and lived going forward.
It reminds me of the song "How to Save a Life", by The Fray. Part of the lyrics say, "As he begins to raise his voice, you lower yours, and grant him one last choice; drive until you lose the road, or break with the ones you've followed." To carry the analogy of these lyrics out to the end, when it came to trying to do things on my own, completely bereft of faith or patience, I drove that road until I flipped the car and nearly perished in the process. Someone very dear to me and much more spiritually advanced than I once told me, "If you want to bring down the fires of hell on your head, start living by faith and see what happens."
That's very true, and I know this because am walking through that right now. Simply being myself and trying to live the best I can as the man God wants me to be has caused me some problems...I've lost people from my life who are very dear to me, and it's no fun. I fight daily the urges to go back to the well-worn paths of impatience and lack of faith, not because I think they will breed success, but because they are familiar, if only in a painful sort of way. I am hopeful that the more time and distance that I put between myself and my well-worn paths of failure, the weaker my urges to return to living habits that led to failures past will be.
To hurry up and wait on God is one of, if not the hardest, tasks required for successful living set before us as human beings. I am trying very hard to take the "hurry up and wait" road less traveled, and I have to despite the sometimes arduous struggle. The good news is that I have already made a decision and undertaken the journey, now all that remains is to summon the necessary perseverance to follow wherever the path I have chosen leads me. The ending to my travels down the path of faith are uncertain, but they at least offer some hope of good, successful, and happy endings, whereas if I punk out and go back down the wrong road simply because it's a known one, I know I am doomed. It is in this knowledge that I soldier on down Mr. Frost's road not taken.
The Road Not Taken, by Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden back.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood,
and I—I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Friday, December 15, 2006
R.I.P. Rafael Peralta, USMC...A New Addition to the Heroes List
"Sgt. Peralta, 25, was a Mexican-American (no such thing, this soldier was then and is now, even in death, an AMERICAN --ed.). He joined the Marines the day after he got his green card and earned his citizenship while in uniform. He was fiercely loyal to the ethos of the Corps. While in Kuwait, waiting to go into Iraq, he had his camouflage uniform sent out to be pressed. He constantly looked for opportunities to help his Marine brothers, which is why he ended up where he was on Nov. 15. A week into the battle for Fallujah, the Marines were still doing the deadly work of clearing the city, house by house. As a platoon scout, Peralta didn't have to go out with the assault team that day. He volunteered to go.
According to Kaemmerer, the Marines entered a house and kicked in the doors of two rooms that proved empty. But there was another closed door to an adjoining room. It was unlocked, and Peralta, in the lead, opened it. He was immediately hit with AK-47 fire in his face and upper torso by three insurgents (TERRORISTS --ed.). He fell out of the way into one of the cleared rooms to give his fellow Marines a clear shot at the enemy. During the firefight, a yellow fragmentation grenade flew out of the room, landing near Peralta and several fellow Marines. The uninjured Marines tried to scatter out of the way, two of them trying to escape the room, but were blocked by a locked door. At that point, barely alive, Peralta grabbed the grenade and cradled it to his body.
His body took most of the blast. One Marine was seriously injured, but the rest sustained only minor shrapnel wounds. Cpl. Brannon Dyer told a reporter from the Army Times, "He saved half my fire team."
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Like a Puzzle
By Audrey Carter, 2005
I don't want you to be
just a name I remove from my cell phone
or a picture I take down off the wall,
The last e-mail I finally delete,
or that song I turn off on the radio.
Like a puzzle in reverse -
pieces removed one by one
until there are none.
I don't want you to be
just a restaurant that reminds me of you
or your smell on my pillowcase fading away,
your street I don't drive down anymore
In the car you let me drive every day.
Like a puzzle in reverse -
pieces removed one by one
until there are none.
I don't want you to be
just a guy I used to know,
or an old friend I used to laugh with -
the man I once called home...
whom I believed I'd share my life with.
I don't want you to be the dream that wakes me up at night
when I realize you're gone.
Or the pain that hits every morning
when I remember I'm alone.
I don't want you to be
just a box of things you've left behind
that I've stored in my attic for memory's sake,
Or the flowers that were never sent,
Or the phone call that's never made.
Like a puzzle in reverse -
pieces removed one by one
until you are gone.
I don't want you to be
replaced by another who makes me laugh,
who holds my hands and face
the same way you used to,
who asks me to dance, dream and love
the way I did with you.
Like a puzzle
I will pick up the pieces
and put them together
in hopes of finding you again...
or myself complete with another.
Monday, December 11, 2006
Why Does Big American Media Side with Our Enemies?
I know America has the First Amendment, but it does have limits (New York Times, I am looking in your direction first)...maybe these lazy press cretins have forgotten that responsibility accompanies freedom and that their pampered existences depend on the continued existence of a strong and vibrant America. Someone should remind them of both these things, harshly and soon.
"I can get the attraction to Communism and its adherents — it was ostensibly all about the brotherhood of man, and raising the worker from oppression, and freedom from the shackles of conformity and poverty, and so on and so forth. In other words, it talked a great game about giving people more freedom, more progress into a better life in the here and now. Sure, it turned out to be a pack of lies, but they were such pretty lies.
But I don't get for one minute what is the impetus behind the slavish adoration the liberal intelligentsia in the West has decided to give the Muslim terrorist groups. It is beyond me. I can just barely get the attraction to old-style desert-life Arabs, with their flowing robes and pretty writing and the vision of a long train of camels with their riders fading into the distant past… all the Lawrence of Arabia bullshit. But the crass, crude, barbaric reality of the members of these modern terrorist groups smashes those pretty and wispy dreams to pieces. We're talking urban men, men who wouldn't know what to do with a camel if it spit on them, men who shave their crotches before going off to fly planes into buildings, men who are so anally retentive that they freak out if their coworker has a ceramic pig figurine on her (her! the infidel whore! she should be home serving her man!) desk, men who — in a final destruction of the vision of a Saracen in his gleaming cuirass wielding a scimitar that shines like the moon and can slice a hair up the middle — murder their captives by sawing at their necks with butcher knives. These are not your glamorous, exotic Arabs of yore. These are the drooling, six-fingered, rusty-pitchfork-carrying rednecks of every progressive liberal's nightmares, only with brown skin, dark eyes, and Middle Eastern accents.
And I say "men" advisedly. Despite the Muslim women the press has been careful to seek out and "give equal voice to" is anyone really fooled about the actual worth a woman's word is given in current Muslim culture? This is a religion where it takes what — two women, is it, for their word to mean as much as one man's? Yet liberal women spend most of their breath screeching about how awful the Republican rightwinger Christians are.
Speaking of religion — these people even embody every liberal progressive activist's idea of anathema: they are religious fanatics who insist that not only is the Sky Ghost they worship real, but that everyone in the world must worship this Sky Ghost in the same exact fashion that they do, or be killed! This is a bit harsher than having to endure your Pentecostal aunt's disapproval of your lesbian lifestyle, but again, guess what is considered much more heinous in the eyes of Western libtards: people who refuse to back gay marriage are worse than people who kill gays buy pushing stone walls on top of them. (Not even the irony of the "stone wall" being used as a method of execution for homosexuals pierces their carapace. Well over here, honey, I noticed for you.)
So I have been trying to figure out why the news media seems to have decided to back the enemy horse. Mere hatred of the current American president really doesn't seem to completely fill the bill. Bush's term will be up soon, and he can't run again. They won't have him to kick around much longer, but the Muslims have promised us that jihad is forever. Maybe that's it — maybe the progressive, liberal, leftleaning contingent is so tired of all their flimsy ideals being shot to pieces by reality and their equally flimsy relationships with each other falling to bits that they've finally found something they can count on not to leave them."
Sunday, December 10, 2006
I'll Take Civilization Over "Noble" Savagery Any Day, Thanks
From Mrs. DuToit:
"No, it isn't about denying reality. It is about continuing on, despite reality. It is the acceptance that your life could end tomorrow, by any number of simple daily events, so you resign yourself to a kind of happy complacency.
It demands of you a constant state of living in the here and now. You better focus on the here and now because you might be not here and there might not be a now tomorrow.
So what does that do to a person? Well, in one sense I think it gives people a kind of peace--a kind of connection with the essence of life (and death) that we, in the West, don't have to address on a day-to-day basis. We expect miracle cures and we get them.
But on the flip side of that, it allows us to make long term plans. It allows us to focus on achievement in the longer term. It allows us the time to think about what our home will be like in 20, 30, or 50 years. We allow ourselves to focus not on the here and now, but on the what can and will be. We live our lives in a constant state of improvement, of a life better than we have today, in a place we will make better. And we'll live to see the fruits of it.
Give us this day our daily bread is a sweet concept. It is, however, so far from an American concept. Give us this day the will to see greatness, to improve our lives and the lives of those around us. Give us vision for a better road, a better way of doing things, and a life more prosperous with more room for play and time with family.
There is something to be said about a life of happiness, the simple joys of sharing your daily bread. But there is also something equally interesting and important about a life with a safety net. The simple things are handled. We get to focus on greatness."
From Kim DuToit:
"This is why we spoiled rotten Americans can afford to complain about slow download times off the Intarweb, while the Pore & Starvin in the Third World are, well, poor and starving. But at the same time, it should be realized that because we Americans aren't too concerned about where the next meal is coming from, we also have the time and mental availability to worry think about other stuff—some trivial, such as why Paris Hilton gets so much fan mail, and some not-so trivial, such as the formula for a drug which will alleviate sinusitis or the design of a world-class fighter jet. Because we are not preoccupied with the essential, in other words, we can afford to concentrate on other stuff—other stuff which in the long run can become essential as well ...
I think that this is the point which the "noble savage"-worshippers and "back to nature" eco-loons miss. Human endeavor, and the growing civilization it engenders, is an accumulative process: what was an unheard-of privilege in 1900 (eg. uninterrupted electricity in every home) becomes today's taken-for-granted. If you reject that, and force retrogression, you must inevitably cause civilization to degrade. ...
One of the things that I discovered after coming to Paradise (the United States --Ed.) was that issues which had seemed so cut-and-dried to me before were no longer so easy to categorize. When you live in a society (ie. apartheid) in which "right" and "wrong" are so clearly delineated, you tend to see all social problems as being similarly simple to solve. And of course, they aren't—otherwise, there'd be no more discussion of issues, ever. What is clear to me is that once the basic wrongs have been righted, and we've decided on black or white, what's left is a plethora of grays—which are not so easily decided—but at least civilization affords us the time and inclination to think about them. What we as Americans need to realize, I think, is that far from decrying our obsession with the minutiae of life, we should be revelling in it—because the alternative would be quite horrible."
Via John Derbyshire:
"Personally, I have a clear and uncomplicated attitude to the whole business. The white man took North America from the Indians, by means frequently foul. As a result, we have a civilized nation here, with laws and legislatures, with libraries and hospitals, with colleges and police departments and TV talk shows and orthodontists and supermarkets and second-hand bookstores and gun clubs and lawns and swimming pools. If the thing had not happened, North America would be vegetating in barbarism, as it did for the previous several millennia, with none of the above. I like the above, all of them. I don't want to live in a society with no law but blood revenge, with no medicine or sanitation, with no books or computers, with a 30-something median lifespan, with a famine every five years, with ritual public torture, human sacrifice and chronic tribal warfare. Far as I am concerned, civilization is the bee's knees, and barbarism stinks. Yes, I know how it was done, and I can't say I altogether approve. But it was done, and I am glad it was done.
When anyone tried to push the "noble barbarian" line on the unfoxable Samuel Johnson, he had a sharp retort for them: "Don't cant in defense of savages." Same answer here."
Saturday, December 9, 2006
How-To Manual for a Great Stiff-Arm
"Amid the big plays that produce highlights -- touchdowns, sacks, jacked-up hits and interceptions -- the stiff-arm is a subtle piece of science that is often overlooked. The stiff-arm is a complicated and sometimes unconscious choreography of many moving parts: speed, leverage, balance, strength, cunning and determination. Beyond sheer speed, it is the most basic way for a ball carrier engaged in hand-to-hand combat to create more space for himself and, with it, a few extra yards. At the very bottom, though, the stiff-arm is about survival...sort of like breathing.
Said Chargers running back LaDainian Tomlinson, "The stiff-arm, a lot of times, is my way of hitting guys back, because I get hit all the time. That's my way of dishing out some punishment and being able to hit guys back legally." ...
"It is a very proactive, aggressive type of move." said (Jim) Brown, who was ahead of his time in most respects, took the benign tool of resistance and made it an offensive -- very offensive -- counter move.
"If the person is not up on you, you can actually extend your arm fully and sometimes if he is coming low, you can put your hand, the stiff-arm, on top of his head," Brown explained. "I think that a lot of backs that are really good understand that it is part of your weaponry." "The more he comes, the more he puts himself down into the ground. If he is closer, you try to hit him in the face to make him blink to throw his tackle off. If he is closer than that before you can get it out, it isn't a stiff-arm anymore, it is a forearm.
"It involves the fact that you are strong enough to put it out there and hold the guy off or strong enough to hit him in the face and make him blink and lose his particular balance. You have to try and hit him as hard as you can. If you are going to catch him, you have to use your strength to be able to resist him to keep him away from your body." ...
Being on the receiving end of a stout stiff-arm hurts twice. The first time: For the defender who is used to passing out the pain, it is a blow to his immense pride in full view of a packed stadium and a formidable television audience. The second (and far worse) comes a day later, in the intimate company of his defensive teammates.
"When you get put to the ground like that," Giants defensive end Michael Strahan said, "the first thing that comes to mind is … 'We're going to watch that in the film room where these cats are going to ride me into the dirt.' "
"Everybody knows it's coming," said Colts linebacker Cato June. "The coach, he's sitting and winding while he's talking to somebody else, and while he's winding, everyone else is sitting there like `Oooooo, oooooo' every time it happens."
Friday, December 8, 2006
"If", by Rudyard Kipling
If, By Rudyard Kipling
"If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken,
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!"
Thursday, December 7, 2006
The Insanity of the MLB Offseason and Free Agency
Monday
6:55 a.m. My flight just arrived here in Orlando for the winter meetings. This is so exciting. I've never been to Orlando before. It's thrilling to think that I could be walking in exactly the same steps a famous Orlandoan like Scott Stapp or one of the Backstreet Boys has walked in before. I can almost hear their music in my ears as I walk along. It sounds like my soul dying.
9:15 a.m. I was just let in on a little secret on my way into the meetings: The Brewers are about to complete a trade for Manny Ramirez. Pretty nice scoop, if I do say so myself. However, the same guy told me I need to repent because the end is near, then he threw trash at me. Hmm … I'm starting to think maybe he wasn't a general manager.
11:27 a.m. Scott Boras (MLB superagent version of NFL's Drew Rosenhaus...he also might be the Devil --Ed.) is representing many of this year's big free agents, and I have an interview scheduled with him at 11:30.
11:30 a.m. Oh … gotta go. I think Boras has arrived in the building because all the plants just died and the temperature dropped a good 20 degrees...more in an hour or so when the interview is over.
11:33 a.m. The interview didn't happen. Boras demanded a 30 percent cut of all ESPN.com's future profits before he would sit down for a conversation. Plus, he tried to reach into my chest and remove my heart. I found that to be really unprofessional, so I canceled the interview.
Tuesday
11:55 a.m. I just got off the phone with Brian Cashman. I called to ask him if he is "dangling Johnson or dangling Wang" in any deals. He didn't laugh. I bet he wasn't anywhere near as popular as I was in middle school. I think I might call him back to see if his refrigerator is running. That one is classic, man. Classic.
6:11 p.m. A weird little Korean guy with big hair showed up here today saying he heard there were some big spenders in town and asked whether anyone wanted to buy some weapons-grade plutonium. He also claims he once struck out 47 batters in a nine-inning game.
Wednesday
11:14 a.m. Mike Piazza's agent says the only thing keeping his client from signing with Oakland right now is that Piazza is worried Oakland doesn't have any good salons where he can get his tips frosted.
2:44 p.m. I hear the Dodgers are trying to write into Schmidt's contract that the entire deal will be voided if he tests positive for steroids. Supposedly, there are some people in the Dodgers organization who are concerned he could have gotten some sort of contact high from playing with Bonds for six years.
Thursday
10:11 a.m. I just got off the phone with Manny Ramirez. He doesn't seem affected by all the trade rumors. In fact, he said he hasn't thought about them at all. Apparently, he recently had a ceiling fan installed in his living room, and he has just been watching that go round and round all week.
Wednesday, December 6, 2006
The Worthless Baker Study Group Report
Now James Baker, an utterly worthless "diplomat" who not only fathered the idea to leave Saddam in power in the first Iraq war, but is also the name partner in a law firm representing Saudi Arabia against lawsuits filed by the families of murdered 9/11 victims, says we should talk to Iran and Syria (who are helping cause the problems in Iraq), set a timetable to get out (giving the enemy a heads-up as to when to attack), and to leave the Iraqis at the mercy of al-Qaida and other assorted Islamic butchers. I hope the President takes this "report" with a giant grain of salt, and that he sends a few thousand more troops in to crush the trouble areas...killing al-Sadr and wiping out his "army" would help too, but apparently he doesn't have the stones for that. I'm not sure the U.S. or anyone else can soothe or resolve the seething hatred between various Muslim groups. Frankly, at this point, I'm just about prepared to stand back, let the ululating savages kill each other, and us go in the aftermath to negotiate with the winner in the best "you either live with the world in peace or go meet Allah right now" tone we can muster.
"Ah, but of course. Merely creating a defeat and handing the ululating apes an enormous victory over the Great Satanic Paper Tiger isn't enough for Baker's Bunch of Frenchies. Oh no, we have to make absolutely sure that Ahmadinnerjacket and Pencilneck Assad know that they've won by making concessions and granting them legitimacy by groveling before them.
The only rational way of "dealing directly" with psychotic regimes like those of Syria and Iran is by force. Overwhelming, uncompromising force. If you start negotiating with the pathologically insane, you only buy them time to perfect the plans they're going to carry out anyway, making the cost of the inevitable confrontation much more horrible with every passing day of inactivity. I thought that we learned that back in the 1930s, but obviously some people are exceedingly slow learners.
It's not enough for the Baker group to manufacture a total defeat for the U.S., they have to drag Israel down with them too. ... I can't WAIT for that whole generation of worthless, selfish, cowards (bush, Olmert, Baker, et al.) to point up their toes and quit wasting our oxygen. ... Unfortunately, the damage will have already be done, and generations to come will spend decades cursing the spineless weasels for the horrendous costs that their pathological fear of doing their jobs and confronting evil imposed upon them."
Tuesday, December 5, 2006
No Koran for Keith Ellison at His Swear-in to Congress
The oath they take is to uphold the Constitution of the United States, and the reason I would object to Mr. Ellison being sworn in with his hand on the Koran is because we are involved in a death struggle for the future of this nation with a huge number of radical adherents of that religion. Muslims, Christians, and everyone else are guaranteed freedom of religion in this country by virtue of The Constitution. Whether ceremonial or not, none of these religions have the right to demand that elected representatives being sworn into office to uphold and protect the U.S. Constitution be allowed to be so sworn in with their hand on a holy book, implying that somehow their religious beliefs and obligations stand superior to the duties required of them as elected representatives. A Muslim congressman was inevitable, but Mr. Ellison, CAIR, and the Nation of Islam are nuts if they think Americans will allow this to be another step toward American dhimmitude and submission to Islam.
"First, it is an act of hubris that perfectly exemplifies multiculturalist activism -- my culture trumps America's culture. What Ellison and his Muslim and leftist supporters are saying is that it is of no consequence what America holds as its holiest book; all that matters is what any individual holds to be his holiest book. ...
So why are we allowing Keith Ellison to do what no other member of Congress has ever done -- choose his own most revered book for his oath?
The answer is obvious -- Ellison is a Muslim. And whoever decides these matters, not to mention virtually every editorial page in America, is not going to offend a Muslim. In fact, many of these people argue it will be a good thing because Muslims around the world will see what an open society America is and how much Americans honor Muslims and the Koran. This argument appeals to all those who believe that one of the greatest goals of America is to be loved by the world, and especially by Muslims because then fewer Muslims will hate us (and therefore fewer will bomb us).
But these naive people do not appreciate that America will not change the attitude of a single American-hating Muslim by allowing Ellison to substitute the Koran for the Bible. In fact, the opposite is more likely: Ellison's doing so will embolden Islamic extremists and make new ones, as Islamists, rightly or wrongly, see the first sign of the realization of their greatest goal -- the Islamicization of America.
When all elected officials take their oaths of office with their hands on the very same book, they all affirm that some unifying value system underlies American civilization. If Keith Ellison is allowed to change that, he will be doing more damage to the unity of America and to the value system that has formed this country than the terrorists of 9-11. It is hard to believe that this is the legacy most Muslim Americans want to bequeath to America. But if it is, it is not only Europe that is in trouble."
Monday, December 4, 2006
Titans over Colts on a SIXTY Yard Figgie at the Gun
After sleeping in thanks to coming home late from Nashville, I got up in time to watch the Titans play the Colts in Nashville on TV yesterday. Having beaten the Titans sevent straight times by an average of 17 points, yesterday should have been an easy win for the Colts, and as they went up 14-0 in the first half, it looked like it might be 8 in a row...BUT, the Titans had gone 4-4 with Vince Young as the starting QB after starting 0-5, they played the Colts very tough at Indy a few weeks ago, and they pulled off a miraculous comeback against the Giants last week, so I wasn't ready to count them out. Slowly, they began chipping away at the lead, they came up with a few defensive stops they needed, and found themselves tied with the mighty Colts in the final minute. Vince Young drove them down the field, but on the last play before the field goal, he slipped, hurt his ankle, and limped off the field...not a good omen if they have to play OT.
As they set up for the final play, it would be a 60 yard FG try for Titans' PK Rob Bironas (who had a career long of 53 coming in), and I had a sinking feeling that if he missed it and the game went to OT, the Colts would steal this one...BUT, the Titans are a young team playing with confidence and the wind was at his back. I actually was a place kicker, among other things, when I played football in HS and college. The longest kick I ever made was 50 yards, and that was in practice, with no rush, and certainly not with 60,000+ fans screaming in my ear...so I knew it would be a tough kick. I watched the kick attempt unfold, the snap was good, the kick looked solid, it cleared the line (always a concern with long FGs b/c the ball comes out at a lower trajectory), and I thought, hey, it looks accurate, wait, it could make it, HOLY CRAP, the guy behind the goalposts caught it...IT'S GOOD!!! Titans' color man Mike Keith was just about as speechless as I was, I ran around my hotel room like a little kid, yelling, "No way, he made it, Oh my God, no freakin' way, I can't believe what I just saw!" That, my friends, was a fun game to watch. Now, the Titans are 5-4 since Vince Young took over, the D is starting to come together, and the special teams are among the best in the league. They won't make the playoffs this year, but they are a legitimately frisky and dangerous young team that is going places in 2007 and that no one wants to play down the stretch this season...should be interesting and fun to watch.
Sunday, December 3, 2006
Amnesty and Mexico Can Both Go Pound Sand
Emperor Misha
"And don't anybody out there even pretend to be shocked, SHOCKED at the crime rate among illegal aliens. What did you expect? Their very first act in this country was to break the law by entering illegally. Why would you expect people who have already shown complete disregard for the law to turn into model citizens? I've said it before, and I'll say it again: I welcome immigration...LEGAL immigration. If you don't have the common courtesy or most BASIC of respects for the country you wish to move to, then WE DON'T NEED YOU HERE.
If somebody walked into your company and applied for a job, telling you proudly that his first achievement in the workforce was embezzling his employer into bankruptcy, would you hire him? Then why the FU*K would we want to grant full amnesty and citizenship to people whose first act in this country was to violate our laws and who have been violating them ever since?
Explain THAT to me."
World Net Daily and Congressman King
"Twelve Americans are murdered every day by illegal aliens, according to statistics released by Rep. Steve King, R-Iowa. If those numbers are correct, it translates to 4,380 Americans murdered annually by illegal aliens. That's 21,900 since Sept. 11, 2001. Total U.S. troop deaths in Iraq as of last week were reported at 2,863. Total U.S. troop deaths in Afghanistan, Pakistan and Uzbekistan during the five years of the Afghan campaign are currently at 289, according to the Department of Defense. But the carnage wrought by illegal alien murderers represents only a fraction of the pool of blood spilled by American citizens as a result of an open border and un-enforced immigration laws.
While King reports 12 Americans are murdered daily by illegal aliens, he says 13 are killed by drunk illegal alien drivers – for another annual death toll of 4,745. That's 23,725 since Sept. 11, 2001. While no one – in or out of government – tracks all U.S. accidents caused by illegal aliens, the statistical and anecdotal evidence suggests many of last year's 42,636 road deaths involved illegal aliens.
A report by the AAA Foundation for Traffic Study found 20 percent of fatal accidents involve at least one driver who lacks a valid license. In California, another study showed that those who have never held a valid license are about five times more likely to be involved in a fatal road accident than licensed drivers. Statistically, that makes them an even greater danger on the road than drivers whose licenses have been suspended or revoked – and nearly as dangerous as drunk drivers.
King also reports eight American children are victims of sexual abuse by illegal aliens every day – a total of 2,920 annually. Based on a one-year in-depth study, Deborah Schurman-Kauflin of the Violent Crimes Institute of Atlanta estimates there are about 240,000 illegal immigrant sex offenders in the United States who have had an average of four victims each. She analyzed 1,500 cases from January 1999 through April 2006 that included serial rapes, serial murders, sexual homicides and child molestation committed by illegal immigrants.
As the number of illegal aliens in the U.S. increases, so does the number of American victims. According to Edwin Rubenstien, president of ESR Research Economic Consultants, in Indianapolis in 1980, federal and state correctional facilities held fewer than 9,000 criminal aliens. But at the end of 2003, approximately 267,000 illegal aliens were incarcerated in all U.S. jails and prisons.
While the federal government doesn't track illegal alien murders, illegal alien rapes or illegal alien drunk driving deaths, it has studied illegal aliens incarcerated in U.S. prisons. In April 2005, the Government Accountability Office released a report on a study of 55,322 illegal aliens incarcerated in federal, state, and local facilities during 2003. It found the following:
The 55,322 illegal aliens studied represented a total of 459,614 arrests – some eight arrests per illegal alien;
Their arrests represented a total of about 700,000 criminal offenses – some 13 offenses per illegal alien;
36 percent had been arrested at least five times before.
"While the vast majority of illegal aliens are decent people who work hard and are only trying to make a better life for themselves and their families, (something you or I would probably do if we were in their place), it is also a fact that a disproportionately high percentage of illegal aliens are criminals and sexual predators," states Peter Wagner, author of a new report called "The Dark Side of Illegal Immigration." "That is part of the dark side of illegal immigration and when we allow the 'good' in we get the 'bad' along with them. The question is, how much 'bad' is acceptable and at what price?"
Saturday, December 2, 2006
The Sports Gal on Christmas Gifts
"There are two kinds of bad Xmas gifts: Copout Gifts and Just Plain Bad Gifts. Every guy reading this needs to avoid them both. Some examples:
Copout Gifts: (1) a gift certificate to a spa (screams, "I put no thought whatsoever into this"); (2) a vacation to any locale that just so happens to have gambling (we're not stupid); (3) a homemade gift certificate promising stuff like taking out the trash, walking the dog, dates or back rubs (cute idea, but they never get turned in and from my experience, they expire); (4) a box of candy (makes us mad because we can't resist and we're already worried about holiday weight); and, of course, (5) cash.
Just Plain Bad Gifts: (1) Any household items like blenders, toasters or anything that has potential to be on a bridal registry (this will really anger a girl if you're not engaged yet); (2) nothing from a mall chain jewelry store unless you're broke (and if you have to, change the box); (3) a sports car for your wife that you know you'll end up driving once you knock her up and she's stuck driving an SUV or minivan; (4) Victoria's Secret nighties that would only look good on one of the mannequins in the store; (5) gym memberships, Jenny Craig or Trim Spa (unless you want to be killed in your sleep).
While we're here, four gifts that will work: (1) a Nano IPod with 100 of her favorite songs already on there; (2) quality cashmere anything (scarf, sweater, hat, gloves); (3) a thoughtful book with a nice note inside; and (4) the "Grey's Anatomy" box set (it's the new "Sex and the City"). Also, please don't e-mail Bill to say that I "mailed it in" this week because this stuff is super important. If you still plan on e-mailing him to say that, go to hell."
Friday, December 1, 2006
Never Close the Blinds
"The other day, my nine year old son wanted to know why we were at war. My husband looked at our son and then looked at me. My husband and I were in the Army during the Gulf War and we would be honored to serve and defend our Country again today. I knew that my husband would give him a good explanation. My husband thought for a few minutes and then told my son to go stand in our front living room window.
He said, "Son, stand there and tell me what you see?"
"I see trees and cars and our neighbor's houses," he replied.
"OK, now I want you to pretend that our house and our yard is the United States of America and you are President Bush."
Our son giggled and said "OK."
"Now son, I want you to look out the window and pretend that every house and yard on this block is a different country" my husband said.
"OK Dad, I'm pretending."
"Now I want you to stand there and look out the window and pretend you see Saddam come out of his house with his wife, he has her by the hair and is hitting her. You see her bleeding and crying. He hits her in the face, he throws her on the ground, then he starts to kick her to death. Their children run out and are afraid to stop him, they are screaming and crying, they are watching this but do nothing because they are kids and they are afraid of their father. You see all of this, son....what do you do?"
"Dad?"
"What do you do son?"
"I'd call the police, Dad."
"OK. Pretend that the police are the United Nations. They take your call. They listen to what you know and saw but they refuse to help. What do you do then son?"
"Dad...but the police are supposed to help!" My son starts to whine.
"They don't want to, son, because they say that it is not their place or your place to get involved and that you should stay out of it," my husband says.
"But Dad...he killed her!!" my son exclaims.
"I know he did...but the police tell you to stay out of it. Now I want you to look out that window and pretend you see our neighbor who you're pretending is Saddam turn around and do the same thing to his children."
"Daddy...he kills them?"
"Yes, son, he does. What do you do?"
"Well, if the police don't want to help, I will go and ask my next door neighbor to help me stop him," our son says.
"Son, our next door neighbor sees what is happening and refuses to get involved as well. He refuses to open the door and help you stop him," my husband says.
"But Dad, I NEED help! I can't stop him by myself!"
"WHAT DO YOU DO SON?" Our son starts to cry. "OK, no one wants to help you, the man across the street saw you ask for help and saw that no one would help you stop him. He stands taller and puffs out his chest. Guess what he does next, son?"
"What Daddy?"
"He walks across the street to the old lady's house and breaks down her door and drags her out, steals all her stuff and sets her house on fire and then...he kills her. He turns around and sees you standing in the window and laughs at you. WHAT DO YOU DO?"
"Daddy..."
"WHAT DO YOU DO?" Our son is crying and he looks down and he whispers, "I'd close the blinds, Daddy."
My husband looks at our son with tears in his eyes and asks him, "Why?"
"Because, Daddy...the police are supposed to help people who need them...and they won't help...You always say that neighbors are supposed to HELP neighbors, but they won't help either...they won't help me stop him...I'm afraid....I can't do it by myself, Daddy...I can't look out my window and just watch him do all these terrible things and...and do nothing...so...I'm just going to close the blinds...so I can't see what he's doing...and I'm going to pretend that it is not happening."
I start to cry. My husband looks at our nine year old son standing in the window, looking pitiful and ashamed at his answers to my husband's questions and he says..."Son?"
"Yes, Daddy."
"Open the blinds because that man.... He's at your front door..."WHAT DO YOU DO?"
My son looks at his father, anger and defiance in his eyes. He balls up his tiny fists and looks his father square in the eyes, without hesitation he says: "I DEFEND MY FAMILY, DAD! I'M NOT GONNA LET HIM HURT MOMMY OR MY SISTER, DAD! I'M GONNA FIGHT HIM, DAD, I'M GONNA FIGHT HIM!!!"
I see a tear roll down my husband's cheek and he grabs our son to his chest and hugs him tight, and says, "It's too late to fight him, he's too strong and he's already at YOUR front door son.....you should have stopped him BEFORE he killed his wife, and his children and the old lady across the way. You have to do what's right, even if you have to do it alone, before its too late," my husband whispers.
That scenario I just gave you is WHY we are at war with Iraq. When good men stand by and let evil happen, son, THAT is the greatest atrocity in the world. You must never be afraid to do what is right, even if you have to do it alone. Be proud to be an American and be proud of our troops...support them and support America, so that in the future, our children will never have to close the blinds."
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Thinking the Substance Out
After some more thought, I've figured out exactly what he meant by that question. Too much thought is akin to using a chainsaw on a dandelion in the yard...overkill at its worst. It's a good thing to take a hard look at things from every perspective you can find, hopefully finding angles you never saw before in the process. The problem comes when you take something apart and put it back together so many times that it bears no resemblance to what it was when you started thinking about it, nor is it necessarily grounded in reality any longer.
Worse yet, I saw a Tom and Jerry cartoon once where Tom had broken the same vase several times trying to catch the mouse, and the last time it fell, instead of breaking into pieces, it turned into a fine powder and blew away in the breeze. With excessive overanalysis, that's the risk you run...outthinking yourself and reality, thereby messing things up one too many times and having it blow away and out of your life forever.
The moral of the story, kids: it's fine to think deeply about things, but when your thoughts quit making sense and don't resemble reality anymore (like a weightlifter who lifts too much and now has no neck needs to put the weights down and step away from the gym), trust God, do the best you can with what you have, and follow your heart and gut...I think that's all any of us can really do.
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
James Baker is the 2006 Version of Neville Chamberlain
"In the wake of 9/11, the American people did not care about democratizing the Muslim world, or, for that matter, about the Muslim world in general. They still don't. They want Islamic terrorists and their state sponsors crushed. As for the aftermath, they want something stable that no longer threatens our interests; they care not a wit whether Baghdad's new government looks like Teaneck's. To the contrary, Bush-administration officials — notwithstanding goo-gobs of evidence that terrorists have used the freedoms of Western democracies, including our own, the better to plot mass murder — have conned themselves into believing that democracy, not decisive force, is the key to conquering this enemy.
Islamic countries, moreover, are not rejecting Western democracy because they haven't experienced it. They reject it on principle. For them, the president's euphonious rhetoric about democratic empowerment is offensive. They believe, sincerely, that authority to rule comes not from the people but from Allah; that there is no separation of religion and politics; that free people do not have authority to legislate contrary to Islamic law; that Muslims are superior to non-Muslims, and men to women; and that violent jihad is a duty whenever Muslims deem themselves under attack, no matter how speciously.
These people are not morons. They adhere to a highly developed belief system that is centuries old, wildly successful, and for which many are willing to die. They haven't refused to democratize because the Federalist Papers are not yet out in Arabic. They decline because their leaders have freely chosen to decline. They see us as the mortal enemy of the life they believe Allah commands. Their demurral is wrong, but it is principled, not ignorant, and we insult them by suggesting otherwise. ...
So now comes James Baker's Iraq Study Group, riding in on its bipartisan white horse to save the day. The democracy project having failed, this blue-ribbon panel's solution is: Let's talk.
Let's talk with our enemies, Iran and Syria. Let's talk with terror abettors as if they were good guys — just like us...as if they were just concerned neighbors trying to stop the bloodshed in Iraq, instead of the dons who've been commanding it all along. Someone, please explain something to me: How does it follow that, because Islamic cultures reject democracy, we somehow need to talk to Iran and Syria? What earthly logic that supports talking with these Islamic terrorists would not also support negotiating with al Qaeda — a demarche not even a Kennedy School grad would dare propose? There's none. ...
Sitting down with evil legitimizes evil. As a practical matter, all it accomplishes is to convey weakness. This spring — after trumpeting the Bush Doctrine's "you're with us or you're with the terrorists" slogan for five years — Secretary of State Rice pathetically sought to bribe Iran out of its nuclear program with a menu of all carrots and no sticks, and certainly no demand that the mullahs stop fomenting terror. The result? They're still laughing at us, even as they build their bombs, harbor al Qaeda operatives, and arm the militias killing American soldiers in Iraq. ...
For our own sake, we need to respect the enemy. That means grasping that he's implacable, that he means us only harm, and that he must be subdued, not appeased. Negotiating with such evil is always a mistake, for any accommodation with evil is, by definition, evil."