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Updated: 33 min 52 sec ago

Agenda 2030

Wed, 02/20/2019 - 11:37am

From the Mind of a Dumb ole Biker from Alvin, Texas:

I’m so tired of reading, Democrats want our Southern Borders open because they need the votes. Seriously, if you think it’s about votes, you haven’t been paying attention. This has nothing to do with votes, it has everything to do with destroying our country, They want mass migration to overload our resources and bankrupt our country. They want drugs pouring into our country, and they want the morality in this country to be nonexistent.

There is a much much bigger agenda at play here, U.N.Agenda 2030 is real. Obama even told you, they were going to bring America to it’s knees, we were no better than any other third world country out there, Didn’t people listen?

Bush even pushed the Agenda by lowering our education standards to that of the rest of the world. No child left behind was a deliberate attempt to dumb everyone down, not bring everybody up.They lowered the standards to that of the slowest child so that no one would fail. Everybody passed. Participation Trophies, No one was special, there was no incentive to win, everybody gets rewarded just for participating. After just 18 years of this policy, we see what has happened.

The children brought up under these policies have no clue what it’s like to live in the real world, now the expect everything to be handed to them on a silver platter. So if you think this is about votes, you’ve missed the boat completely. This is and was about fundamentally changing the United States and it’s been working well for these people.

This has never been about votes…Bush Sr. Told us in 1992, We have an opportunity before us, to forge a New World Order…When we are successful, and we will be….They’ve been telling you what this was about for a long time now. No one listened. They were smart implementing their agenda, they told us step by step what they were doing, no one put the pieces together. It’s called the Cloward and Piven’s Strategy…..Look it up.

But what do I know about such things, Everyone knows I’m just a Dumb ole Biker from Alvin, Texas…

The Butcher Shop

The post Agenda 2030 appeared first on Tea Party Tribune.

Another Crop of Illegals Moves North

Wed, 02/20/2019 - 11:02am

The savage response of the Trump administration to last November’s illegal alien caravan was such an object lesson for potential lawbreakers that the newest Illegal Alien Reunion Tour making its way through Mexico is 30 percent larger.

AFP estimated the 2018 horde totaled 7,000 potential recipients of Uncle Sam’s largesse. Jeff Bezo’s WoePost reports that the latest herd may number over 10,000.

Another Trump crackdown on illegals like that and we can just deed Texas over to the good folks in Honduras.

It’s ironic that Uncle Sam’s illegal alien problems were initially caused by migrant workers moving north to help with the harvest of tomatoes and cantaloupes. Now our high–profile illegal immigration problems are caused by migrant social workers moving south to harvest the next caravan of so–called ‘asylum seekers’.

And don’t be misled by the Opposition Media. Illegals, unaccompanied minors and ‘asylum seekers’ are a cash crop much more valuable than the tomatoes that are supposed to rot in the field if our borders aren’t kept open. 

Non–profit organizations, lawyers, federal employees and other components of the illegal–industrial complex are paid millions to service the needs of people who don’t deserve to be in the US in the first place. Salaries for all the compassionate do-gooders–at–our–expense, housing for illegals, transportation for illegals, food for the illegals; after a while it all adds up.

It’s a perverse incentive for continued lawbreaking when a captured illegal is allowed to stay in the US while his case adds to the constipation clogging immigration courts. Particularly since GETTING INTO THE US was his goal all along.

It’s like letting the LA Rams commit a flagrant interference penalty against the New Orleans Saints in the NFC championship game and letting the Rams go to the Superbowl while the Goodell brain trust dithers over what to do about it.

You can see why the Trump decision to release ‘asylum seekers’ and others into Mexico, instead of the US, was so controversial. It’s fine for a migrant social worker to go caravan harvesting down south, but the compassion complex that processes the crop doesn’t want to do so on the wrong side of the border.

Trump’s sensible decision prompted 2020 leftist presidential aspirant Julian Castro to make a suggestion with which I partially agreed. Castro told “Face the Nation” he wants to put ankle monitors on illegals. That way “you’re able to monitor where people are in the country.”

As long as the country where they’re waiting is Mexico, I could care less about their precise location. I want monitors acting more like the buzzers at Fuddruckers one gets while awaiting an order. Once it starts buzzing you pick up your burger. When the illegal’s buzzes he reports to court. In the meantime, he’s off the taxpayer’s dime.

Unfortunately, none of this will be done and Trump won’t get our wall. The federal government has no interest in solving illegal immigration. When Democrats say they support border security, they’re lying. And when the Republican leadership says they support border security, they’re lying, too.

Seven of the 9/11 hijackers either overstayed their visas or made fraudulent visa applications. The death of 2,980 Americans wasn’t enough to motivate Congress to solve the visa overstay problem. 

It would be simple to require visitors from nations with a significant number of visa overstays to post a bond. Hasn’t happened. Requiring DHS to match entry and exit records would give an accurate overstay count. Hasn’t happened. Almost 3,000 dead isn’t enough motivation.

It’s the same with illegal alien crime. The deaths, rapes, robberies and assaults aren’t in one fell swoop, like 9/11, but are a steady flow that Congress also ignores. Co–conspirators say illegals are no more likely to commit a crime than citizens. That’s another lie.

John R. Lott, Jr. analyzed the illegal crime data and the numbers are shocking. Lott found, “Compared to American citizens, illegal aliens are more than twice as likely to be convicted for armed robbery, child molestation, and for sexual assault…nearly three times as likely to be convicted of murder and manslaughter …more than four times as likely to be convicted of a drive-by shooting, and for extortion …[and] more than five times as likely to be convicted of kidnapping.” 

 His conclusion, “If illegal aliens committed crime nationally as they do in Arizona, in 2016 they would have been responsible for over 1,000 more murders, 5,200 rapes, 8,900 robberies, 25,300 aggravated assaults, and 26,900 burglaries.”

That’s why we need the wall, accelerated deportations, mandatory E–Verify for jobs, an end to anchor babies and a tax on remittances. Maybe you should ask your Member of Congress why citizens don’t have any of those protections. Are they representing citizens or Latin America?

The post Another Crop of Illegals Moves North appeared first on Tea Party Tribune.

Woman Who Walks on Stones

Tue, 02/19/2019 - 11:24am

Toward the end of High street, under the eight eighty freeway, officers Hargrove and Chambliss sat in their crown vic, parked a few yards off the pavement.

Hargrove liked to park here, or he used to anyway. It seemed that there were many things officer Hargrove used to like. Every now and then he wondered why he had liked those things; they seemed so far away now. Slouched on the passenger side of the seat was a man in a police uniform that left a good two inches of wrist and ankle showing. The identification bar, tarnished and dull with thumbprints might have read “Chambliss”. The man looked more like a small ogre.

With his cap off officer Hargrove could see that his partner’s bullet head had lost more hair, and that the skin underneath was a sickly yellow, and what looked like peeling age spots were appearing in the balding areas. Looking out the window toward Farm Island without really seeing it.

Chambliss picked absently at the edge of one of these diseased looking patches of skin. In one of his moments of clarity, which were becoming increasingly rare, Hargrove saw Chambliss. And what he saw pushed against his sense of reality. Leaning back in the seat, his knees against the the guy looked almost exactly like a figure out of Grimm’s Fairy Tales. Looking fleetingly in the mirror at his own visage, Hargrove sensed a thread of unreasoning fear, like a pin worm in a bucket of water twisting endlessly as it sank slowly into the depths of his consciousness.

He didn’t look any too good himself for that matter. Hargrove had grown taller himself, but he had also become thinner. Gaunt, really. His head had grown rounder as well, and instead of becoming scurfy, the skin on his body resembled rubber, or plastic. It felt like plastic too; the kind on the outside of a wire. What folks called insulation.

Worried about the fact that his skin was becoming water repellent, and that his pores were disappearing into a thick, shiny sheath, Hargrove had told himself that he would see a doctor right away. That was six weeks ago or so. The really scary thing was, nobody seemed to notice. Chambliss had discarded the use of shoes for crying out loud, but did the watch commander notice at roll call? Not on your life. In fact, nobody seemed to notice them much at all. Both officers had missed duty several days, time a lost concept to them, memory a thing best left in some frozen bit of experience, now far beyond their reach.

Chambliss finally finished peeling the leathery scab from his head, holding the trophy up between thumb and forefinger. Hargrove stiffened as a vibration went through his torso. He started to say “incoming”, but what escaped him was a hum, like that of a refrigerator. Awareness came into the street monster’s eyes, and Hargrove caught them before he could look away. There was a cackle and a sudden pop. A thin stream of smoke escaped the outside corner of Hargrove’s left eye. This time Chambliss looked away.

Hargrove watched Chambliss turn the glass pipe over in his huge hands and noticed streaks of watery blood on the bowl. As he always did these days, he caught glimpses of terror filled faces pressed against the glass, searching vainly for help as they passed out of view to be replaced by others. As he watched a child of no more than twelve years look left and right, her face real enough to be distorted by pressing it to the side of the bowl, Chambliss put flame to the bottom of the glass.

First pain, and then agony twisted her features as her face first melted, and then turned to smoke in the pipe’s bowl. The thing that had once been officer Grady Chambliss sucked greedily on the tube and untold numbers of the damned swirled up the tube, into his lungs. Officer Hargrove thought about how that smoke was already being absorbed by the beast man’s alveoli to race in milliseconds to the left ventricle of his heart where those souls went…Chambliss passed the filthy thing to Hargrove accepting it, wondering what he had just been thinking.

He held the pipe absently as his partner exhaled an enormous cloud of smoke through his nostrils. Several small graying spots in the smoke obtained gravity, and fell wherever they landed in the car. Hargrove noted for the thousandth time that every surface had small black specks sticking loosely to them. Vaguely he remembered that, when he cleaned himself they were sometimes hard to remove, and that he sometimes wondered where they went after swirling down the drain.

Officer Hargrove, or what was left of him, didn’t remember holding the flame beneath the pipe. He did not remember the imploring faces in the bowl. The part of him that was still Danny Hargrove didn’t want to see those faces as they ignited into smoke, and travelled into him on their way to his shower drain.

Reading his mind, the big man said in a voice that sounded like the crushing of hundreds of bones “That’s the good stuff huh Hargrove? Still fighting it aren’t you?”

Some motion on the waterfront caught both men’s attention. For a moment a ragged man pushing a shopping cart came into view. stopping for the briefest of moments the man looked furtively around. Not seeing the cruiser, he pulled a bottle from his tattered coat pocket and took a long pull on it before recapping it and putting it back in its hiding place. The man started forward against an unsteady gait, and he his cart were almost instantly hidden by a row of dumpsters.

“Be right back partner.” he said with an evil wink. “Got to do some police work, right?”

Hargrove simply put the pipe to his lips, touched flame to the bottom of the bowl, and waited. This time he watched the faces; he noticed how many of them seemed to be from different eras. Many of the faces looked as if they belonged to Paleolithic, or even neolithic humans. Others wore garb that placed them in various historical times. Always, the faces bore expressions of hopeless desperation. He noted, not for the first time, that just before they vaporized into smoke, the faces swirled around the bowl two or three times before being sucked into the tube. Hargrove’s mind lost perspective as his consciousness skyrocketed to fifty kilometers. Up here, at the top of the stratosphere, he felt nothing. What was happening thirty one miles below seemed insignificant. Whatever Chambliss was doing to the man with the shopping cart was far away, and far away was where Hargrove wanted to be. Needed to be. Because back there, on the planet he must return to was the visitor.

Before the visitor Hargrove had been a man with a plan. After high school he had attended Berkeley and gotten a bachelor’s, majoring in criminal justice and went straight into the academy. Hargrove had been married for two years, but the relationship fell apart when he got accepted into the law enforcement leadership graduate program. Pretty hard to keep a job, a graduate degree program, and a family going, but he had tried. Hargrove knew that, and for awhile he had maintained the fiction that his marriage would be revived as soon as he made lieutenant, but none of that mattered now. Nothing mattered since the visitor had arrived.

Hargrove let himself picture the visitor for just a moment, and wished he hadn’t. Why couldn’t he just stay up here? It was cold, sure. The air must be thin, but Hargrove was pretty sure he wasn’t breathing, and it was…lonely; but lonely was good in a world where the visitor could exist. !Later, Hargrove didn’t have any idea how much later, because time had lost all meaning, officer Hargrove saw Chambliss trying to get comfortable in the back seat. The big man was lying on his back, with one leg propped up on his other knee, scratching absently at the black specks on the sole one enormous foot. The discarded souls, because what else could the possibly be, formed a strange swirl on the seat beside his butt. An empty bottle lay on his chest, a still damp blood stain covering his body from his chin to his waist.

Chambliss grinned at him knowingly, and Hargrove saw that sometime in the last little bit of time his partner had developed fangs. While Hargrove searched his mind for surprise, the radio crackled to life. Both officers were being summoned to the scene of a murder. The murder hadn’t happened yet, but it soon would.

The Butcher Shop

The post Woman Who Walks on Stones appeared first on Tea Party Tribune.

Plain Speaking

Mon, 02/18/2019 - 4:51am

I voted for, and support our president. The reason neo-liberals do not like him is that he puts the lie to practically everything they support. Investigating every aspect of his campaign, his administration, his FAMILY! Trump is a real estate broker! He thinks in linear feet and dollars and cents. The entitled generation can’t stand that. They want a world where even what I’m writing here is considered hate speech.

From due date abortions to trans-gender bathrooms America has spun out of control. No wonder a broke down country like Russia could even consider manipulating our elections. And how did they do it? Memes on Facebook. Think about that. They know where most Americans get their information and they know our attention span. It’s been suggested that Russia developed the HIV virus because they figured destruction of of our society could best be achieved by infecting us with something that attacks sexual deviates and drug addicts.

New York decided to kill babies as they are being born, and then Virginia one upped them by extending that to killing them right after the cord is cut. And the Feminazis stood around cheering. They want the government to pay for their birth control. Stop dating men who can’t afford a condom! With forty-seven genders now it’s a wonder any babies are conceived at all. Last week a man walked into a restroom in England claiming that he identified as a woman. Then he forced a ten year old girl into a stall and tried to pull her pants down. I guess he was a woman inside because the little girl beat him up and ran away.

And the border? What part of “illegal” do the liberals not understand? What part of “immigration” do they confuse with unlawful entry? The democrats are railing against the simplest solution in the world, a barrier to stem the tide. Jim Acosta attacked the president yesterday claiming the border crossings are dwindling, completely ignoring the thousands streaming in from South America with thousands more packing to come. He claimed that more deaths are caused by Americans than illegal aliens. He needs to ask law enforcement about drug deaths and related crimes caused by drugs brought in by cartels. Do you want to know how many deaths need to happen before the president will be justified in sending the Army to secure the border? One! One young lady in San Francisco having ice cream with her daddy on the docks who was shot by a man who had been sent back to Mexico not once but several times! He stole the gun, and his excuse was, “I did not know it was going to go off, senóre!”

In former times this would be labeled a debate, perhaps even patriotic. But, this will all Be labeled hate speech. Red hats with MAGA on them are considered assault now. You can fix a lot of things wrong in this country but still, after all these years, you can’t fix stupid!

The Butcher Shop

The post Plain Speaking appeared first on Tea Party Tribune.

A Blueprint For Stupidity Exposed

Sun, 02/17/2019 - 12:46pm

“Today I think is a really big day for our economy, the labor movement, the social-justice movement, indigenous peoples and people all over the United States of America, because today is the day that we truly embark on a comprehensive agenda of economic, social and racial justice.”
– Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez on last Thursday’s unveiling of her “Green New Deal”

You know the old saying that he or she is “as dumb as a box of rocks”…well…the new saying making the political go-rounds is that he or she is “as dumb as Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez.” And that folks is pretty damn dumb, but it is also a blessing at the same time for this woman’s mouth is not only splitting her own party in two but actually helps to assure President Trump’s reelection in 2020.

And while the list of her past verbal, in print, and televised faux-pas are endless…starting with her looking forward to her “inauguration;” with her tweeting that the three branches of government are the “Presidency, the House, and the Senate;” and that in a ’60 Minutes’ interview she stated for all the world to hear that “facts don’t matter if you’re morally right”…Ms. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez has become the poster child for why liberalism and progressivism should have best been left back in the ’60’s and ’70’s when at least then the stupidity and cluelessness of young Democrats could be blamed on Timothy Leary and his magic mushrooms.

And with said Timothy Leary in mind…for this could only come from someone smoking or popping something…here is the latest nonsense from Ms. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez. Working in cahoots with a fellow Democrat loon, as in Sen. Ed Markey from Massachusetts, I present to you…drum roll please…their Green New Deal…a true “watershed moment” these two miscreants call it…a deal that would “remake the entire U.S. economy”…or so they say…while at the same time eliminating all U.S. carbon emissions.

And if you buy into that faux bravado then pigs do fly and unicorns are indeed real.

Oh and might I add, there is no price tag given or even eluded to as to how much it would cost to implement this nonsense, which means there’s no data given or even available so as to access how many new taxes would have the be levied to pay for this abomination. Afraid to release the numbers most likely…afraid that even their own party would gasp.

Submitting the “framework” for her “Green New Deal” as a non-binding resolution…what Ms. Ocasio-Cortez calls a “10-year mobilization” on everything ranging from energy to nationwide infrastructure to racism…simply means that even if this nonsense somehow was passed that no new programs would be created, but would, in our favorite socialist’s own words, “affirm the sense” that these things should be done within the a fore mentioned 10-year time frame. Translation: if Democrats have their way we will see more, much more, government interference and intrusion into our private lives at, of course, our own taxpayer expense courtesy of the very woman who believes that the “solemn duty of the Federal Government is to create a Green New Deal.”

I thought the only true “solemn duty” of the federal government was America’s protection and defense…at least that’s what the Constitution says it is. But now I guess we need even more federal regulations to not only protect us from “the weather” but to defend us against “the weather” as well. I’m pre-Common Core so I didn’t know that…sarcastically said.

But the question is what exactly do ‘We the People’ have to look forward to from this ever so self-absorbed “climate change” diva and her what amounts to being a massive government takeover coupled with their micromanaging of every minute aspect of our lives? The answer to that is that besides this “deals” terribly misguided measures to cut carbon emissions across the collective board…as in from electricity generation to transportation and even to agriculture…returning us to hunters and gatherers I guess…Ms. Ocasio-Cortez insists we pay “special attention” to the poor, the disabled, and minority communities…illegals anyone…that might be “disproportionately affected” by massive economic transitions like those her “Green New Deal” calls for. Translation: cater to the minority by stealing from the rich, while leaving the middle class majority to basically fend for themselves.

And this comes directly from the very same woman who also demands economic security for those “unwilling to work”…not “unable” to work but “unwilling” to work…as in the dregs, sponges, and gimmee-gimmee sorts who already are raping our welfare and health care systems dry.

It seems Ms.Ocasio…oh what the hell…I’ll call her “Ms. Kotex” like I do on the radio. “Kotex” as in she strives to “soak up” every “bloody dime” of our hard-earned taxpayer dollars with the goal of funneling those dollars to those “unwilling to work,” thus being assured of their votes come her next reelection bid. Again, as always, it’s all about about votes…enough votes to allow Ms. Kotex to hold onto her Congressional seat, but to also garner more support and encouragement as she works her way up the rungs of the new Democrat/Socialist party ladder.

But the bottom line is simply this, Ms. Kotex and crew want to replace our booming free-market based capitalistic economy with a socialist one, and the “New Green Deal” is laying the ground floor for just that.

How so…simply by even allowing the Democrats to present such an overt expansion of government via the sheer ludicrousness of what’s in this “Green New Deal.” By their hopefully, in the near future, being able to allocate billions if not trillions of dollars to both impossible and improbable projects and tasks, Democrats know well that our hard-earned taxpayer dollars will be sucked down the proverbial money pit drain and thus collapse our economy from within. And its this economic collapse, courtesy of Democrats running out of our money, that has led Republicans to call Ms. Kotex’s plan a “Trojan horse for Socialism,” which most assuredly it is. And remember, not only would it cost at least $2 trillion to implement, as some leading economists guess, but it would at the same time eliminate one million jobs already in existence…most especially coal mining, oil rigging, and gas-station attending jobs.

Eliminating jobs creates even more dependents on the government teat than there already are…socialism 101 come to life…just what the Democrats ordered.

“Even the solutions that we have considered big and bold are nowhere near the scale of the actual problem that climate change presents to us.” – Rep. Alexandra Ocasio-Cortez last Thursday on NPR’s ‘Morning Edition’

Fact: the “New Green Deal” is but a continuation and perpetration of the “climate change” hoax what with its 10-year goal of “net-zero greenhouse-gas emissions” instead of “zero emissions.” And to that affect, Ms. Kotex stated in a recent NPR interview that, “we aren’t sure that we’ll be able to fully get rid of farting cows and airplanes that fast.” Never thought I’d hear “farting cows” and “airplanes” being compared to each other let alone to what is simply “the weather”…never mind the fact that any noxious gasses that emanate from either cows (as in methane) or airplanes pales in comparison to the noxious fumes emanating from the mouths of most Democrats these days.

And “net-zero” means that in the near future if we want to go to Europe or the Far East we will have to travel on the trans-Atlantic or trans-Pacific railroads. Oh wait…lucky us as those trains will have to miraculously glide upon water not unlike Jesus did two plus centuries ago…as there’s no way possible to lay tracks on water. But I guess when you’re a liberal anything is possible while delusions of Democrat grandeur dance…or should I say swim…in one’s head.

The Concord is sadly long gone, the rest of America’s air transport system will be next as jets run on the dreaded fossil fuels, while they also make sure that hamburgers become a thing of the past…that is unless someone can genetically engineer a cow that does not to fart or even burp for that matter. And also going bye-bye will be our nuclear power plants…a truly clean source of energy that leaves no carbon footprint at all, yet a source of energy that scares the living daylights out of anyone with a ‘D’ next to their name.

Fact: and with the “ultimate goal” of the “New Green Deal” being to entirely stop Americans from using any and all fossil fuels…as in oil, coal, and maybe even natural gas…means that according to Ms. Kotex we, again in 10-year time frame, must meet “100 percent of the power demand in the United States through clean, renewable, and zero-emission energy sources.”

I’m sorry to tell Ms. Kotex…no…actually I relish in telling her…that wind, solar, and water energy sources…the other “zero energy” sources she is referring to…are but adjunct energy sources to electricity generating fossil fuels…sources that have proven not to be totally reliable nor sustainable on their own. And why…what if the sun doesn’t shine, what if the wind doesn’t blow, and what if the water levels get too low to flow (as is common when it doesn’t rain enough over a given period of time), then electricity must be turned back on thus negating what these nothing but adjunct sources were supposed to accomplish.

But if fossil fuel sources of electricity are no more I guess on the days the sun doesn’t shine, the wind doesn’t blow, and it doesn’t rain but a few drops will see us living in the dark, with no food to cook, and toilets barely flushing. Welcome everyone to Ms. Kotex’s Venezuelan-style American utopia.

And even with all I’ve already mentioned, know the “Green New Deal” now goes from just being all-out bad to total unabashed stupidity, lacking in both common sense and sanity in the process.

First there’s the part about “upgrading all existing buildings” to make them more “energy efficient”…with “all” being the operative word (as in millions if not billions of buildings and homes)…something that truly is undeniably cost prohibited. And where are we all going to live while our homes are being retrofitted or torn down…a little detail that never entered Ms. Kotex’s minuscule mind.

Then there’s the part about the government working with America’s farmers “to eliminate pollution and greenhouse gas emissions…as much as is technologically feasible”…like a stroke of a pen and a new law will ever eliminate either man-made or naturally occurring cow fart pollution. And while the “Green New Deal” claims to support both family farms and the promoting of “universal access to healthy food”…one is left wondering just who will be the judge as to what’s healthy or not…do the words “the feds” pop into your mind as it does mine…just saying.

And dare we forget the part about “overhauling our transportation systems” to reduce emissions while at the same time expanding electric car manufacturing, building “charging stations everywhere,” and expanding high-speed rail to “a scale where air travel stops becoming necessary”…like that will ever happen.

And lastly there’s these two goodies…truly laughable and yet ever so dangerous in their implications.

Let’s start with the “Green New Deal” guaranteeing every American not just a job but a job with a “family-sustaining wage, adequate family and medical leave, paid vacations and retirement security.” Translation: in-your-face, die-hard socialism that will bleed America dry. And last but not least, the “Green New Deal” demands “high-quality health care”…as in a single-payer system for each and every Americans…something we can surely do without, after all we already had a great health care system before Obama got his grubby little hands on it and allowed illegals to move to the head of the health care line.

So now that I’ve laid out at least some of the absolute unabashed stupidity that is the “Green New Deal,” know that several of the key Democrat 2020 hopefuls have actually endorsed Ms. Kotex’s plan. And this includes Sens. Cory Booker of New Jersey, Kamala D. Harris of California, and Elizabeth ‘Pocahontas’ Warren of Massachusetts, while others like House Speaker Nancy Pelosi are saying little to nothing about it, and maybe it’s because even the ‘Botox Queen’ knows what a joke this “deal” is and doesn’t want to give ammunition to Trump.

But then again when you have someone like loud mouth, Obama wanna-be Cory Booker outwardly defending his support of this blueprint for stupidity by comparing this what would be a government-led overhaul of our nation’s economy and energy sector to landing on the moon and defeating the Nazis in World War II, you just know that in the days and weeks to come the Republicans will have much to laugh and tweet about as the Democrats might have just assured President Trump his second term in office.

“America will never be a socialist nation” President Trump said during last week’s State of the Union Address, and with moronic ideas like Ms. Kotex’s “Green New Deal,” her call for socialism might hopefully have just blown-up in her face.

Copyright @ 2019 Diane Sori / The Patriot Factor / All Rights Reserved.

For more political commentary please visit my RIGHT SIDE PATRIOTS partner Craig Andresen’s blog The National Patriot to read his latest article  A Very Bad Week For Liberals .


Tuesday February 12th, from 7 to 9pm EST on American Political RadioRIGHT SIDE PATRIOTS Craig Andresen and Diane Sori discuss ‘A Blueprint For Stupidity Exposed’; ‘A Very Bad Week For Liberals’; and important news of the day.

Hope you can tune in at: …or on Tune-In at: >

The post A Blueprint For Stupidity Exposed appeared first on Tea Party Tribune.

National Emergency

Sat, 02/16/2019 - 9:19am

Heads on swivels ladies and gentlemen. He has activated the Ready Reserves. This is NOT a political post. The source of this article is Soldier of Fortune Magazine.

DOD statement on the president’s declaration of a national emergency on the southern border:

President @realDonaldTrump signs the Declaration for a National Emergency to address the national security and humanitarian crisis at the Southern Border.

The president has declared a national emergency on the southern border. The president invoked sections 12302, 284(b)(7), and 2808 of Title 10, U.S. Code, and requires the use of the armed forces to respond to this emergency through support to the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) in its efforts to secure the southern border.

10 U.S.C., Section 12302 (Activation of the Ready Reserve) authorizes involuntary activation of the Ready Reserve, which includes members who, when mobilized, perform a federal mission at the direction of the secretary of defense.

10 U.S.C., Section 284(b)(7) (Counterdrug Support) authorizes DOD to support the counterdrug activities of other federal agencies, including DHS, with the construction of roads, fences, and lighting to block drug smuggling corridors across international boundaries. DOD will review and respond appropriately to any request for assistance received from DHS.

Per 10 U.S.C., Section 2808 (Military Construction (MILCON)), this declaration of a national emergency at the southern border requiring the use of the armed forces authorizes the secretary of defense to determine whether border barriers are necessary to support the use of the armed forces and to re-direct unobligated DOD MILCON funding to construct border barriers if required.

I will never waver from my sacred duty to defend this Nation and its people. We will get the job done.

President Donald J. Trump

SECURING OUR BORDER: President Donald J. Trump is following through on his promise to secure the border with legislation and Executive action.

President Trump was elected partly on his promise to secure the Southern Border with a barrier and, since his first day in office, he has been following through on that promise.
As the President has said, sections of the border wall are already being built, and legislation and Executive actions are building on that progress.

Executive action being taken by the President makes available additional funding to secure our border that is essential to our national security.

LEGISLATIVE WINS: President Trump secured a number of significant legislative victories in the Homeland Security appropriations bill that further his effort to secure the Southern Border and protect our country.

The funding bill contains robust resources and additional provisions to secure the border and strengthen immigration enforcement.
The bill provides $1.375 billion for approximately 55 miles of border barrier in highly dangerous and drug smuggling areas in the Rio Grande Valley, where it is desperately needed.

More than 40 percent of all border apprehensions occurred in the Rio Grande Valley sector in fiscal year (FY) 2018.
The Rio Grande Valley was the border sector with the most known deaths of illegal border crossers in FY 2018.

$415 million will go toward addressing the humanitarian crisis at the border by providing medical care, transportation, processing centers, and consumables.
President Trump successfully rejected efforts by some to undercut Immigration and Customs Enforcement’s (ICE) ability to uphold our laws and detain illegal aliens, including criminals.

ICE funding supports nearly 5,000 additional beds to detain illegal aliens and keep criminals off our streets.

Customs and Border Protection will receive funding for 600 additional officers.
This bill will help keep deadly drugs out of our communities by increasing drug detection at ports of entry, including opioid detection staffing, labs, and equipment.
A PROMISE TO ACT: President Trump is taking Executive action to ensure we stop the national security and humanitarian crisis at our Southern Border.

President Trump is using his legal authority to take Executive action to secure additional resources, just as he promised. In part, he is declaring a national emergency that makes available additional troops and funding for military construction.

Including funding in Homeland Security appropriations, the Administration has so far identified up to $8.1 billion that will be available to build the border wall once a national emergency is declared and additional funds have been reprogrammed, including:

About $601 million from the Treasury Forfeiture Fund

Up to $2.5 billion under the Department of Defense funds transferred for Support for Counterdrug Activities (Title 10 United States Code, section 284)

Up to $3.6 billion reallocated from Department of Defense military construction projects under the President’s declaration of a national emergency (Title 10 United States Code, section 2808)

These funding sources will be used sequentially and as needed.

The Department of Homeland Security, Department of Defense, and the Army Corps of Engineers are working to create a prioritized list of segments and a work plan for the remainder of FY 2019 and beyond.
New projects could include: new levee wall, new and replacement primary pedestrian barrier, new vehicle-to-pedestrian barrier, and new secondary barrier.

NATIONAL EMERGENCY ON OUR BORDER: The President is using his clear authority to declare a national emergency as allowed under the National Emergencies Act.

Since 1976, presidents have declared nearly 60 national emergencies.

Most of the previously declared national emergencies have been continually renewed and are still in effect, after being continually renewed.

Multiple Governors have declared states of emergency along the border in the past.
Former Arizona Governor Janet Napolitano, who became President Obama’s DHS Secretary, declared a state of emergency along the border in 2005.

Former New Mexico Governor Bill Richardson also declared a state of emergency at the border in 2005.

Former President George W. Bush and former President Obama both directed the use of the military to assist DHS in securing and managing the Southern Border.

Former President Bush declared a national emergency in 2001, which invoked reprogramming authority granted by Title 10 United States Code, section 2808, and both he and former President Obama used that authority a total of 18 times to fund projects between 2001 and 2014.

ADDRESSING THE CRISIS AT HAND: President Trump is taking the necessary steps to address the crisis at our Southern Border and stop crime and drugs from flooding into our Nation.

Cartels, traffickers, and gangs, like the vile MS-13 gang, have taken advantage of our weak borders for their own gain.

Immigration officers have made 266,000 arrests of criminal aliens in the last two fiscal years.

This includes aliens charged or convicted of approximately 100,000 assaults, 30,000 sex crimes, and 4,000 killings.

Tons of deadly drugs have flooded across the border and into our communities, taking countless American lives.

Methamphetamine, heroin, cocaine, and fentanyl all flow across our Southern Border and destroy our communities.

More than 70,000 Americans died of drug overdoses in 2017 alone.

Human traffickers exploit our borders to traffic young girls and women into our country and sell them into prostitution and slavery.

Massive caravans of migrants view our unsecure border as a way to gain illegal entry into our country and take advantage of our nonsensical immigration loopholes.

The Butcher Shop

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CigarBox – Ray

Sat, 02/16/2019 - 5:46am

Meanwhile, back up in Tennessee, Mike was causing as much trouble for his father as he could. The fat man’s wits were already failing him. Unknown to him diabetes was creeping into his blood and in a few short years he’d be in the nursing home instead of working there. He had never wanted the responsibility of children and Mike was a well-grown child now! Mike made sure that he kept him up after he got home from school at three in the afternoon. Over the period of weeks, the loss of sleep began to tell on the man. He was used to sleeping until he decided to get out of bed.

If he slept all day and had to rush to work in the early evening, so be it. There was no problem there at all. He could always raid the kitchen at the nursing home. He ate one big meal a day, and if that meal was at the home that was perfectly fine with him. Mike threw a wrench into this life style. The constant care needed to provide him his needs wore the older man down and soon he was eagerly waiting for any reason to get him back to Texas, if for no other reason other than to get a good night’s sleep.

Now, enter into this mix June’s stepfather, Ray. He was genuinely upset when he heard what had been going on. In a life of low means and rough times, June had been the one ray of sunshine that had shone on this man his whole life. He’d married Barbara just five months after June was born. He’d lived with her in the shack that she ended up in after she and old man Stillwell had their little falling out. June had never known any other man as her father, and he lavished on her more than he did his own daughter by Barbara of some years later. June was his angel, and Mike had defiled her! Never mind the fact that June had initiated the meetings all by herself. Forget about all the Saturday nights at the SPJST! He didn’t want to hear that, and he wouldn’t hear about any “marriage!” Still, Huntsville prison had taken its toll on the little man. He’d been hurt there, and he was determined never to go back again. Deep in his heart he knew that he’d never do anything to cause his old school chum, deputy Dawg, to have to arrest him again.

Ray had been a good man up until he found drugs. The drugs led him down a road to stealing and worse and it all ended one night when he ran out of money for the white powder the marijuana had led him to. In a fit he ran into a gas station and tried to grab money from the till. The man behind the counter had hit him with a ready baseball bat and Ray, dazed, stumbled back to his truck. He hadn’t driven very far when the deputy pulled him over. By this time Ray was “all in.”

“I gotta take you in, Ray,” the deputy had said.

All Ray could reply was, “Johnny, I think you really should.”

He got six years, and did them without parole. When he came out and drifted back to west Texas he’d left his pride in Huntsville. He hung out at his mother’s ranch for a while, meeting with Juan in the barn as often as he could. Then he met Barbara, and as bad as she was, she was a tad better than what he’d left behind. She’d been carrying on with the old man, and there was a rumor about her and some drifter who had come through town right before Ray got back. Some people could remember the drifter, and some did not. In point of fact, he was only in town for a few days, ran into trouble at one of the private poker games that flourished in the area, and left quietly before he got hurt. They began to sneak around and before long Barbara was with Ray and they were both in the shack behind Fat Eddie’s. Then, in a short while she had June. A few years later the little sister came along, and this one was Ray’s, but the lovely June was always his favorite. For everything sour in his life, his little June was the sugar in his day. He did indeed want the best for June!

By this time, Mike was rolling full tilt to get back to Texas. The more he thought about June the more control the memory had on him. He began daily phone
calls to his mother, and nightly calls to June. Soon all hope was abandoned and he was on his way home again! His father drove him down and was more than just a little vocal about this whole mess.

“Just wants to be somewhere he’s not!”

“He thinks he’s in love,” his mother said.

“Well, we’ll see just how in love he is in a year or
two. Hope he graduates high school!”

Claudette walked out to his truck as he was

“Uh, Claudette, You got a fifty you can spot me ‘till I get back to Memphis?”


“Yeah, that kid tapped me out on the way down.”

As she reached in her jeans to retrieve the money she said, “You’ve been tapped out all your life, Ed!”

He looked at the big house and then he looked back at Claudette. Her teeth were fixed, her hair was done, and her weight was under control. It was to him as if he were looking at a stranger. He wondered if she were actually the same woman who left Tennessee so many years ago.

“I wish we could have worked it out.”

Claudette stared in amazement at Ed. “Worked it out? Are you insane? Do you remember how you spent the money I saved to get pavement on our driveway just so we could get propane to that little trailer you put me in? You bought a horse Ed! I froze out there while you rode that silly-ass horse.”

“He died.”

“Good! You probably ate him!”

“You sure have a sharp tongue now.”

“Yeah, but at least I didn’t call you retarded while your brother was laying there dying, now did I?”

“He was gonna die anyway. You know that.”

She shook her head, “Just take your fifty dollars and go.”


“Just go!”

Mike knew better than to try to see June right off the bat. Her stepfather was waiting and he wasn’t being very diplomatic about it either. Ray’s reputation would keep Mike away for a while. Actually Ray was dodging Mike, hoping that there would be no incident, but it all came to a head one day at Fat Eddie’s.

Mike, and his stepfather were having breakfast at a table when Ray came in to have coffee before he went to his construction site. Right away Mike saw him and fear rushed through his body. He froze and looked down at his plate. Bill saw the man come in also, but made no note of it. Slowly he walked past them, and then turned. Looking Mike dead in the eye he said, “If I ever catch you talking to my daughter again I’ll stomp your guts out!” It was threat enough to scare Mike, and it had all that Texas flair that made Ray look like an offended father.

He then went and sat at a table. When he took off his cap, Bill couldn’t help but notice that he was bald! Then he looked at the general build of the man. Small, yes, and wiry, but small nonetheless! He went over to sit at the table. Ray seemed to have shrunk since he’d been building homes in the Bend. Bill knew that he couldn’t let this slight go unanswered, but he didn’t want a big incident.

“You better just move along,” the bald mam said.

“Well, what if I just don’t feel like moving along. You see, I want to know why you said that while I was eating my breakfast.”

Ray looked at him. He’d never had anyone sit at his table, look him in the face, and question him like that. But this man wasn’t backing off one little bit! He decided to give an answer.

“After what he did to her, I don’t want him talking to her anymore.”

“What did he do?”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it!”

And I asked what he did!” Leaning forward, he said in a quiet voice, “I don’t care about your little record, I want to know why you just disrupted my breakfast! If you ever do that again I’ll personally see to it that you never drive another nail in this county, convict! Ray, we don’t need this kind of trouble.” Bill was suddenly ashamed that he’d been so hard on Ray. Ray was only mad at Mike for being Mike, the very same thing Bill was mad at Mike for. He couldn’t blame him for that.

Ray got up, put his hat on his little bald head, and left. Bill went back to his table and told Mike, “I strongly suggest you dodge him. He is the kind of guy who will hurt you!”

“Why didn’t he hurt you?”

“He’s not mad at me, he’s mad at you Stay away from him. I don’t feel that Ray really wants any trouble, but if you push him you won’t be able to take the ass-beating he’ll give you.”

They ate their eggs in silence and left.
On the way home Bill talked to Mike. “What do you plan to do about that little girl?”

“Well, I wanna marry her.”

“Don’t you think at seventeen you’re just a bit too young to marry anyone? You need to graduate first.”

Mike stared out of the window and didn’t say a word. That was his way of ignoring the situation. He wanted to marry June, and he wanted to marry her this afternoon if he could. Or get a new truck! This problem would involve more than one breakfast at Fat Eddie’s. It would involve a meeting of the minds.

Bill looked at him staring out the window, “You gonna answer me?”

Mike just continued to stare. Bill reached over and took him by the hair on the back of his head and drove his face into the glass he’d been staring through.

As his head came bounding back Mike yelled, “What the hell’d you do that for?”

“Cause you didn’t answer me. And don’t think that running to your mom crying will help. You’re about to ruin that little girl’s life and for what? So you can get laid!”

“I told you I love her.”

“You don’t love anybody kid. You love yourself. Forget it. You spoiled little bastard. You got your mind made up. I couldn’t stop it all these years, what makes me think I can stop it now.”

They rode the rest of the way to the Bend in silence. When they got home Mike ran back to his room.

“What’s wrong with him?” Claudette asked.

“We saw Ray down at Fat Eddie’s.”

“What did he say?”

Bill looked at her surprised, “What the hell do you think he said? He told Mike to stay away from his sixteen year old daughter.”

“Did you take up for Mike?”

“Hell yes! I embarrassed that poor beat up little ex con in front of all his friends. Now, are you happy?”

“No. I’ve been on the phone to Barbara. She wants to meet next week sometime. I think she’s going to make the big push to get us to let June marry Mike.”

“Surely she’s not that crass.”

“Why hell yeah she is. Oh, she’ll be all offended, but the main thing is to get her trashy ass back on this property.”

“Like I said, a whole town full of trash.”

“I don’t even want to start that conversation again. Let’s just worry about one thing at a time.”

Bill went and sat on the back porch, looking at the greens. He’d built this with his ability, bare hands and guts. It only goes to follow that there would always be someone out there that would want to try and horn in on it. The “tracks” are not a barrier so much as an invitation. The tracks were an invitation to every one of those mother’s sons out there who wanted a piece of the good life. West Texas had always been the hardest part of a very hard state. Bill expected them to come, but he wasn’t going to just sit there and hand it all over. Not by a damn sight! Still, he would wait and see what the meeting of the mothers brought. He wouldn’t step in just yet.

Imagine BlackFace Daylight Robbery Attempt In Virginia Woman Who Walks On Stones Adios Amigos What Would Happen If We Threw A War (And Nobody Came?) The Butcher Shop

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Adios Amigos

Fri, 02/15/2019 - 10:45am

With Trump signing the new improved budget from congress we move into phase two of the great border war. The president wanted five billion, I think he got one. Kay Sarah Sarah. One must ask how many billions went to Saudi Arabia to keep the prince in caviar. Anyway, congress did give Trump a check, albeit not a blank one, but a check none the less.

Let’s approach this not as politicians, but as middle class working Americans who struggle each month to keep the lights on and beer in the box. So, you got a billion dollars, and problems on the border. Now, if I personally had a billion dollars I’d buy a huge ranch with security, and hire the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders to staff the house, but that’s just me, ok? The president, on the other hand already has a big house with Melania and Ivanka. So he’s gotta spend the money where he said he would. So let’s consider this. It sounds reasonable that some areas along the border are more insecure than others. For instance the stretch near Eagle Pass, Texas is most likely more insecure than say, Downtown El Paso, wouldn’t you think. Now let’s identify about a billion dollars worth of wall along those areas first!

The border is not totally insecure. Only about two hundred or so miles are out there in the wild wild west. San Diego, for instance, has a very nice wall, with locking doors, and if you don’t believe that just look at what happened to the famous “caravan” that ran up against it last month. The border patrol slammed it so tight LEGAL entrants couldn’t even come over to shop at Walmart. It cancelled many family get togethers at Thanksgiving. Families south of the border had to forgo turkey in San Diego and stay home with the big enchilada! So, we don’t have to worry about areas like that. Also, vast stretches are desert or mountains or even desert AND mountains. Whoever is stupid enough to try to walk across Death Valley on the way to Hollywood DESERVES to be an American! Death Valley got that name for a reason. A more modern name might be “Dead Mexican Drop Off.” Americans of the Yankee persuasion think that the Mojave is now a more kinder, gentler place just because it has interstate highways running through it. No está bien! Same ol’ crackers. That’s why when you’re driving through Arizona and someone says, “My, it’s so beautiful out here,” what they’re really saying is, “I’m glad we have gas!”

So, in those areas you don’t have to build a state of the art wall. Just maintain the barrier you have, and use a little bit of that billion or so to beef up the staff, and give them technological tools they need to chase Pablo across Ocatillo Wells. All you really have to do is wave a bottle of water at them and they’ll chase YOU! God! Do I have to tell you people everything? I should run for president. Now, where was I? Oh yes.

So, most of the border is secure. We plug the leakiest holes, and beef up staff with the chump change that is left over. Then one of two things is going to happen. If the wall idea works then along the areas that have new structures, or improved ones, illegal crossings should drop. This doesn’t include routine flights by Cartel Airlines International, but they aren’t coyotes, they’re just dropping off dope, and they go back home, so we can’t include them in the statistics. The president can take these numbers, wave them at congress, and hopefully squeeze another billion or so from the prince’s caviar budget. Over the next two years we close the remaining gaps, and in 2020 we have a big fiesta! Or . . .

The advent of improved structures make no difference at all! We put this wall up, and thirteen year old Mexican girls make sport of going over, under, around, and through. They innovate new ways to breach the thing that would make El Chappo blush with shame. Picture this; you are a Mexican. You can see through this steel picket fence the Gringos put up. You live on tortillas and beans. Your sister works over in Boy’s Town. SHE’S the family bread winner. Oh, and by the way, you should meet his sister, she virgin! So, you’re looking through,the fence at a guy about your age, leaning against a new car, drinking a beer and eating an In N Out burger. You can SMELL it! He’s well dressed, got Nikes on his feet, and the blondest beach bunny you ever saw in your LIFE smoking a joint in the passengers seat of the car. She probably virgin too. And all that stands in the way of this Mexican’s American Dream is this stupid wall with a few Gringos here and there. What could possibly go wrong?

So, there are the two scenarios. Either the wall idea is sound, will work, and congress will crap money like they ate a bad chalupa, or the Mexicans will continue to sneak in as they have for years, and one night even put a scare crow on top of the wall as they slip over to commemorate the biggest straw man in recent times. Adios, amigos!

The Butcher Shop

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What Would Happen If We Threw A War (And Nobody Came?)

Thu, 02/14/2019 - 10:31am

What would happen if we threw a war and nobody came? We Americans are good at war. Right after we kicked the British off the continent we turned around, jumped on the Indians, and we’ve been fighting our asses off ever since. Why, in 1865 we couldn’t rile anyone else up so we jumped on our damn selves.

We manifest destinied our way across the North American continent, took a pause, veered south, jumped on Mexico, returned, and took all the Native American land that had a buffalo chip on it. “You don’t need all dat land. Gimme dat land!” And what we couldn’t fight we sanctioned. We were like the kid who owns the basket ball. Our national policy was if you can’t beat ‘em out, starve ‘em out.

Now, I give you Venezuela! I want a show of hands here. How many of you even remembered there WAS a Venezuela before this latest round of news about the election down there? Now keep your hands up if you even care. I don’t. Ever since Honduras moved to San Diego I’ve been keeping an eye on the bridge in Laredo to see who’s gonna show up next. I do think that it’s poetic justice though. California dubbing itself a sanctuary state, and a whole country shows up seeking sanctuary. Sweet!

Venezuela has a boat load of oil. It also has a very nice communist government. Oh, I mean socialist. Gotta be PC here. They don’t have the clap, they have gonorrhea. At any rate, In a country where bananas grow on trees they can’t seem to feed themselves. Ok, so they’re hungry. Don’t we still have the Red Cross? CARE? The freaking MORMONS? But there is a complicating factor here. Remember I said, “oil?” Oh yeah. When politicians in Washington hear that word their eyes roll back in their head, and they get that white foam around their mouths. Never MIND that Texas has more oil than God, if there is one drop of oil somewhere on the planet we will find a way to get a dipstick in it. And we’ve been dipping our stick ever since the first Model T rolled off the assembly line in Detroit. And we’ll put up with anything to acquire that oil. Sign lopsided trade agreements with countries that chop teenage girls heads off for showing their face in public. Arrange flights for their families OUT of the US the day before two planes fly INTO our trade center. All in the name of “freedom!” We can’t have no oppressed people. Give ‘em freedom and take their oil. Or rather, kick their ass and take their gas! Hey, I grew up on Fort Hood, folks. Ask yourself; how much freedom have we smeared around Saudi Arabia? Someone theorized recently that there may be oil on Saturn’s moon, Titan. Sounds like they might need a little freedom up there, what do you say, general?

So, if Venezuela has oil in abundance, why can’t they eat? Because they didn’t say “Mother may I” to the biggest oil whore on the planet. The good ol’ US of A! THAT’S why! We took it all personal when they went socialist. Now myself, I don’t know what kind of government they had before that, nor do I care so long as the bananas keep showing up at the grocery store. I seriously doubt if any country in South America has a democratic government. But, when oil gets involved, well, that’s the trump card. And it’s really a trump card because we have a TRUMP in office! How do you trump it? Well, you just sanction the hell out of ‘em so they can’t sell the oil, then, as Margaret Thatcher said, they run out of someone else’s money and you get CUBA! When we sanction someone our allies are more or less honor bound to follow suit.

So now Venezuela has had a screwed up election. (This is my surprised face.) Ask yourself, when was the last time any country south of El Paso ever had a straight up election. Matter of fact, when was the last time WE had an election that could pass muster. Shucks, in the last big one we even had to hire the Russians to run it for us so don’t go all patriotic on me. We were so busy keeping the brothers out of the voting booth we didn’t even notice that nobody else in line spoke English. They even tore up Brother Theo’s ballot and he’s a cracker! An OLD cracker!

For those of you who dabble in political science, the brown countries don’t have elections, they have revolutions. The big trick is inaugurating the winner without him getting shot. I know, I know, what if the winner is a woman? Those countries are all the State of Misogyny. Ever been to “Boy’s Town?” You can learn a lot about women’s rights down there!

Anywho, America, yet again, is gearing up to spread a little “freedom” around. The president has said, “All options are on the table.” That’s DC talk for we’re about to declare an undeclared war. The only thing that’s on the table is their oil, and we don’t give a rubber duck if little Fernando gets a Big Mac or not. And, it’ll drag out like Vietnam. In the end we will install a puppet government, complete with some shell corporation to pump the oil out. Shell! There’s a subliminal message there. We don’t have the common decency to just outright steal the oil. Meanwhile, I’ll be sitting down here in Texas enjoying our $1.75 per gallon gasoline as the other forty-nine states try to figure this all out!

The Butcher Shop

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Margaret Sanger, Abortion, and the Democrat women of the KKK

Wed, 02/13/2019 - 1:16pm

During the State of the Union Address, President Trump spoke of a horrific procedure called partial-birth abortion, which is an abortion in the last trimester (seven to nine months) of the pregnancy, where the half-born baby is forced to keep part of its body in the birth canal, preventing it from being completely born or the procedure would be considered murder.  Scissors are then stabbed in the back of the baby’s head to insert a tube to suck out the baby’s brain and collapse the skull.  As you can imagine, this causes excruciating pain to the baby before death.  (  While President Trump supports ending abortion up to, and through the actual birth of a child, I noticed the Democrat women, all dressed in white, sat in silence as President Trump exposed this gruesome and painful procedure.

The picture of these Democrat women dressed in white reminded me of another Democrat woman named Margaret Sanger, known as the mother of abortions, who became the founder of Planned Parenthood about the same time in history when the Democrat party started the Ku Klux Klan.  Margaret Sanger accepted invitations to speak to the women’s branch of the Ku Klux Klan as these Democrat women, who also supported abortion, dressed in white for their own solidarity at their meetings.  From the autobiography of Margaret Sanger, “I accepted an invitation to talk to the women’s branch of the Ku Klux Klan…I saw through the door dim figures parading with banners and illuminated crosses…In the end, through simple illustrations I believed I had accomplished my purpose. A dozen invitations to speak to similar groups were proffered.” (Sanger 366)

Margaret Sanger’s goal was to eliminate the black population.  Margaret Sanger has referred to blacks, immigrants, and indigents as “human weeds” and “reckless breeders.”  She cautioned, “We do not want word to go out that we want to exterminate the Negro population” but wrote that they were “spawning … human beings who never should have been born.”  She said, “The chief aim of birth control” is “more children from the fit, less from the unfit.”  (See

Occasionally, some babies are born alive before the abortion procedure is complete.  Their live bodies are shelved in a utility room, without medical care, to die.  One survivor, Gianna Jessen, told her story.  (See

While some Democrat controlled states like New York, Virginia, Rhode Island, and New Mexico cheered and give each other “high fives” for passing this hideous law of murder.  Virginia’s Democrat Governor Ralph Northam suggested if the baby is born alive, there would be a “discussion” of what to do with it, implying the baby would be left to die.  Ironically, it was revealed this same governor was caught wearing a “black face” next to a KKK member in his medical yearbook showing the ties of the KKK run deep into the Democrat party, even today.  The fact is not providing medical treatment to a living human being and allowing that child to die is murder.

Half of the black children conceived in America today are aborted with the Democrat women in white knowingly or unknowingly supporting and fulfilling Margaret Sanger’s vision of exterminating blacks, which is why her message was so well accepted by the Democrat women in white of the KKK.

Frank Aquila is president of the South San Joaquin Republicans and author of the book, “Sarah Palin Out of Nowhere”.  He can be emailed at [email protected]

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Virginia Democrats Play Last Man Standing

Wed, 02/13/2019 - 11:51am

Note to White People: Whenever an interview or news conference contains the phrase: “I am not a racist” you’ve already lost the argument.

The latest individual of the Caucasian persuasion to make this forthright declaration of stupidity is actor Liam Neeson. It was an attempt to defuse an earlier admission that he was once intent on attacking a random black person after a friend had been raped.

Virginia Gov. Ralph ‘Moonwalk’ Northam was no doubt following Neeson’s career suicide closely in hopes that this latest racial faux pas would overshadow his problem. Namely that Northam had not pursued a random black person, but instead had portrayed a random black person in a yearbook photo from the ’80s.

Northam — one of those rare individuals who when confronted with career conflagration goes to the store for more lighter fluid —decided to hold a news conference and get everything out in the open.

Crisis consultants advise clients that if they can change the subject it is sometimes possible to survive. What they don’t advise is changing the subject by introducing an entirely new crisis.

In front of a sea of reporters Northam denied he was in the yearbook photo, but volunteered that he’d donned blackface in the ‘80s to portray Michael Jackson in a “Moonwalk contest”. The only way the event could have been more damaging was if Ralph had entered wearing a sequined glove or claimed some of his best friends were black.

He proved once again that Northam is so culturally tone deaf he didn’t recognize that admitting to dressing like a pedophile might be an additional problem. While Northam’s political judgement is so bad he was only saved from demonstrating his version of the moonwalk by Mrs. Northam’s horrified intervention.

Northam’s prospects for finishing his term were bleak. Lt. Gov. Justin Fairfax is black and it would have created an elegant symmetry for a disgraced white man — guilty of a race crime — to resign in favor of a young, virile black man.

Only now it seems that Fairfax may be a tad too virile.

A California college professor accuses Fairfax of sexually assaulting her at the 2004 DNC national convention. Something about this charge reminds me of, what was it? OH, YES! Now I remember, the guilty–until–proven–innocent attack on Judge Brett Kavanaugh.

Vanessa Tyson’s sexual assault account is much different from Christine Ford’s. She knows the exact date, she knows the exact location, friends confirm she told them immediately after it happened and Tyson is a Democrat who has nothing to gain from going public.

This means Fairfax should be toast, but in fact he’s only feeling a little heat.

The National Organization of Women called for Fairfax’ resignation, but none of the Democrats who were so eager for Kavanaugh to withdraw have said a word about Fairfax and his much more credible sexual assault accusation.

The remarkable silence and absence of the usual blame game reminds you of the time when Democrats were either wearing white Klan robes or sporting blackface. Their contention then was when it came to sex, black folks just couldn’t help themselves.

But even if Northam and Fairfax are gone the AG is a Democrat so the seat stays in leftist hands, even if Mark Herring is unfortunately white. Then Herring admitted this week that he also did a temporary makeover and wore blackface during the ‘80s.

Maybe Herring was trying to flood the zone. If every amateur Democrat minstrel show wannabe confessed in the same week, there might be too many of them for any one miscreant to be targeted. Herring could escape the blackface blackball in spite of the fact last week he demanded Northam resign for the same offense.

What amazes me is the left’s enthusiasm for blackface. I grew up among rednecks in West Texas and the only blackface I ever saw was in really old movies. By the ‘70s even we had figured out a visit to the Shinola spa was a bad idea.

As this is written the trio is still clinging to office. When I saw a Washington Post headline that read: “Despite protests and isolation strongmen can cling to power” I thought it was a story about Richmond’s Democrat bitter–enders.

Northam appears to be taking the Gaddafi option. Social Justice Warriors will have to flush him out a culvert before Northam will surrender the governor’s office. Even if he leaves, the chances of the groper or the remaining goober resigning are slim.

That’s because next in the line is Speaker Kirk Cox who is both white and a Republican. We’ve learned when the left is presented with a choice between living up to its moral exhibitionism or retaining power, somehow power always seems to win.

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The Rise and Fall Of Nations

Wed, 02/13/2019 - 7:20am

The ultimate downfall of the USA will be the same as it has been for every empire that has preceded it: War. No, not in the sense that somebody else will defeat the US in a war, but in the sense that continuous warfare will deplete the people and resources to a point where the nation-state can no longer function as a world power. For example, consider Spain, which was the preeminent empire in the 16th-17th centuries. Spain essentially bankrupted itself fighting wars in Europe. It stripped the New World of gold and silver, and still did not have enough to finance its wars. Finally, it receded as a global power. Consider also the British Empire, which rose in the 18th and 19th centuries, and was still a global force in the 20th century. But the Great War so depleted its manpower that it emerged without the intellect and leadership to administer a global empire. By the end of WWII, the British Empire no longer existed. Consider the USSR, certainly a global force in the mid to late 20th century. But its whole economy was based on building and supporting its military— indeed, the Soviet constitution itself essentially wrote a blank check to the military. But the USSR ultimately collapsed because its military-based economy not only could not compete with Western economies, but was inherently unsustainable. Arguably, we could also contend that the entire civilization of the Middle Ages collapsed because of warfare: The Crusades, the Hundred Years’ War, the Wars of the Roses and equivalent French civil wars, all contributed to a decline in civilization that rose again only with the Renaissance— a period that emphasized, arts, intellect, and commerce.

So it will go with the USA. The US currently maintains a global military presence, with permanent bases in almost 140 countries. The military is the single greatest expense of the federal US budget, and in Congress, military appropriations are passed almost without debate or opposition. In the private sector, the arms industry is enormous. In the past generation, many young people have chosen the military because the economy outside the military simply wouldn’t support them. And perhaps most importantly, the US uses its military as its primary foreign policy tool; it engages in military action every day, with almost no military objectives at stake— indeed, the objectives of military engagement generally can no longer be articulated, and such articulation as there may be is fuzzy, unclear, and conflicted. Simply put, the US is well down the path of every empire that has come before it, exhausting itself in warfare.

So that will be the downfall of the USA: It will burn itself out in perpetual warfare.

The Butcher Shop

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Tue, 02/12/2019 - 6:55am

From the Mind of a Dumb ole Biker from Alvin, Texas.

Imagine there’s no America. Facebook has been under investigation for a number of offenses lately. Imagine that one of those offenses has been the censorship of Conservative voices. It appears, Facebook has found a way around those allegations by the simple labeling of things as hate speech.

The use of any term related to the LGBT community, abortion rights, or even God is now showing up in their algorithms as hate speech. It seems if you speak out on any of those issues, you end up violating their terms and conditions. Don’t try and keep up with those terms and conditions either because they seem to change daily now without warning.

About the first warning sign will be a screen that pops up telling you, your post or comment violates their new policy and then you find yourself not being able to post or comment for 3 to 30 days. I’m not sure how they decide that, but it is what it is. We need to wake up and recognize that, any organization, that deliberately and arbitrarily censors your speech and pushes their agenda at the same time, should be considered a tyrannical organization. Censoring what a Conservative can or cannot say, about any subject, while allowing the Liberal Left to say anything they want because it aligns with the agenda, is the way we got into this mess in the first place. When we allow, the LGBT community to parade kids around in bars and clubs for money, when the MSM decides this is great and puts this behavior on Good Morning America, we have a problem. When we have States promoting abortions up to the time of birth, we have a problem, but let a Conservative point out that problem, then it becomes hate speech.

You really have to ask yourself, what has happened to the morality in this country? How did we lose our way so fast? When did speaking up about immorality in our country become hate speech? When did speaking your mind about child abuse and endangerment by these people in our communities become hate speech? Have the people really sank so low, that all of this is now normal? It appears the answer to that is yes. It appears that ripping a child out of the womb at birth is now okay. Well I can tell you where this is headed.

Imagine that pedophilia is next on their roster, that’s why these people are glorifying children in drag the way they are. Imagine that next behind that is the Euthanization of our elderly, that too has already been discussed by these people. Remember, Obama said the elderly will just have to understand, we all have to die sometime. Bestiality has already been removed from the law in California. So you have to ask your where is our nation headed? Do we really want to standby and allow this? Do we really want to allow these people to label our speaking out on these subjects as hate speech? Do we really want them having that much power over us?

Well everyone knows, I’m just a Dumb ole Biker from Alvin, Texas, What do I know about the future of our nation anyhow?

The Butcher Shop

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Mon, 02/11/2019 - 8:45am

You know, if you cut a shark’s belly open and throw it back in the water its friends and relatives will devour it. So it is with liberals. I give you Joy Behar! During the current complexion debates, Joy took it upon herself to display a photograph of herself at twenty-nine in BlackFace. Actually, it was more like BrownFace, but a former co-host, Raven Symoné took exception, and the feeding frenzy began.

Raven asked if she were black, and continued to mutter under her breath. BlackFace is all the rage. Enjoying a comeback. Actually, I thought it went out with Al Jolson. He actually had a hit song, “Mammy,” where he wore blackface. The late great comedian, Redd Foxx, actually had an issue early in his career at having to don BlackFace so he’d be “black enough” for the stage. But, it’s not just BlackFace. Will Sampson, whom you may remember from “One Flew Over The Coo Coo’s Nest” and “The Outlaw Josey Wales” refused to work on set until the white actors, made up like Indians were replaced with real Indian actors needing the work.

The fact is, the liberal Main Stream Media will seize on anything that they think will sell copy, even their damn selves! The object of the game is not to inform, but to create controversy and division. Let’s be frank, folks. America has progressed long past a black person coming to a predominantly white party, and nobody says the word “watermelon!”

Amazingly there was no outcry when the movies “Watermelon Man” and “White Chicks” debuted. Why of course not. That’s cause black folk get a pass on them kinda things. They can say, “Nigger” or the more socially acceptable, “NigGA” while we crackers are darn luckily to hang on to the slightly gay sounding “N Word.”

And this is a deal killer, people. I Crappith Thee NOT! Governors kiss there own asses over this. Attorney Generals resign! PRESIDENTS chime in. There is no statute of limitations. Like murder! Once you wear BlackFace it will never completely wash off. You are black forEVER! It is the Viagra of the cosmetics department. Even stronger. Viagra wears off. Or it should. After four hours you really should see a doctor, but I digress.

The problem with this is that instead of uniting America it amplifies our differences. Instead of promoting common ground it places us on opposing hills like the Hatfields and McCoys. When even a national TV host cannot show an old picture of herself with a slightly darker complexion without crashing the stock market we have a problem, Houston. And you were worried about a few Mexicans sneaking over the border subverting America? Hell! Avon is destroying the country!

And people like “Raven” get up on their high horse. I love that. Raven, she’s black. Get it? But, she ain’t no racist. <Wink Wink> Honey, you ain’t seen no racism! I grew up in 1950’s Louisiana, and I’m here to tell you, them crackers had that down to a science. Wish I could put you in a time machine, and take you back there for dinner. I’d be eating at a table, and you’d be eating in the kitchen! I thought we’d progressed past that. Guess not. After eight years of a president reminding us daily that racism is alive and well in America, and growing every day it’s time for Trump to issue an executive order banning tanning solons!

The Butcher Shop

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Daylight Robbery Attempt In Virginia

Sun, 02/10/2019 - 9:52am

Daylight Robbery Attempt In Virginia

Due to the confusing nature of news today, we at the Butcher Shop endeavor to continue our practice of bringing you the news you don’t want to hear!

Everybody get set for the documentary movie; over and over and over again. The Roger Stone method of stealing political power by the practice of making complete fools of the American people is about to explode onto the media scene. For those of you who have not seen the Netflix original movie ‘Get Me Roger Stone’, I will describe briefly the Roger Stone method. “Win by any means necessary.” That’s it. Now, no one needs to explain Gordon Gecko’s “greed is good” moment to me. I was, after all tempered in the fire of “root hog or die.” The emphasis is on the die part. The difference between root hog or die, and by any means necessary, is simple: the rules of engagement for the former prevent treason, while the rules of engagement for the latter prevent nothing. We have witnessed many dirty tricks in politics. There is actually a recording of a telephone call between Richard Nixon and political leaders in Hanoi in which the candidate bargains with the lives of American soldiers to keep the war open until he is elected. This recording is available in the LBJ library in Austin for skeptics. Ronald Reagan is similarly embarrassed caught selling the

Brother Theo

Ayatollah’s regime missiles, weapons and ammunition for holding the hostages taken in Iran until after his election against Jimmie Carter. For an expanded view of political high jinks see the library of congress or Wikileaks. For old school Shakespearian skullduggery though, nobody tops Roger Stone; he is the high sultan of dirty deeds, and he stands alongside few in terms of the damage he has inflicted upon America…OUR America. So, let me tell you a tale that has Roger Stone’s DNA all over it. The tale is short, although the making of it spans almost four decades.

What Went Down

Day One: Virginia Governor Ralph Northam is vigorously attacked by elected officials and strategists of his own party over a photograph from Northam’s medical school yearbook allegedly posing in either black face or a klansman’s sheet and hood. There is no mention which medical school, a fact I found to be salient but missing. The fact is, no provenance whatever is offered to legitimize the photograph.

Day Two: Governor Northam apologizes profusely for the photograph, calling for the reconciliation of racial inequality in Virginia. More celebrities crowd the Lynch mob, and the cries for blue blood grow louder.

Day Three: Governor Northam claims that there is no proof that he is in the photograph, suggesting that the provenance to the photograph should be set forth.

Day Four: Alan Blinder and Trip Gabriel write a story in the New York Times reporting the statements of Democrats and Republicans bemoaning the damage being done to the state of Virginia, and Northam’s thoughtless placing of the interests of the state he was elected to govern over the interests of his own party…only that isn’t how they said it; instead it read very much like a crappy bit of subliminal code designed to inform my amygdala just how to perceive what I was reading. The article goes on to inform readers that the head office just couldn’t figure a way that someone as damaged as Northam was could possibly have the ability to lead. Then the two Times writers tra la down the yellow brick road with the revelation that the governor wore blackface during a Micheal Jackson dance contest, an assessment of the governor’s public allies as few, and a lemon drop from a “Mr. Moran”, described as a person “who represented Northern Virginia for 24 years” describing the event as “an issue of redemption” I hate to remind you folks, but it is only the guilty who are in need of redemption.

Day Five: Alan Blinder writes a second article about governor Northam’s crisis, all but reading the man’s epitaph, pointing out that a Democrat senator from Virginia had been on ‘Meet The Press’, and virtually certified governor Northam’s political emasculation and his inability to lead. The article proceeded to point out that the current Lt. governor of Virginia, Justin Fairfax, was also uncertain about Northam’s ability to lead, or even govern. Everyone was pointing toward disaster for the citizens of Virginia unless their governor did ‘the right thing’ and resign his seat; as if he were Sarah Palin. As of this time there was still no proof that governor Northam was even IN this photograph. This is partly because the person responsible for bringing the photograph forward was unknown. Well……

Day Six: The New York Times reports that the state’s top Republican was facing an onslaught of questions about “racist photographs and slurs in a college yearbook that HE helped oversee”. The senator in question, Thomas Norment, is the majority leader in the Virginia state senate, who was the managing editor of the 1968 Virginia Military Institute yearbook, which included slurs and images of students in blackface. On the same day, Justin Fairfax, reproachful that it should happen on the “day of his elevation” was alleged to have sexually assaulted a woman, a charge that was not only found to be credible by the states attorney general, but was also repeated by another alleged victim. No less person than Al Sharpton still demands the resignation of the governor. Since Then Governor Northam made a decision to stay in office; a great decision given the fact that Justin Fairfax faces a long and precipitous road forward, with criminal charges looming over his future. If governor Northam were to step down, and Lt. Governor Fairfax were charged criminally, Thomas Norment, the republican leader of the Virginia legislature, would assume the governor’s seat; a particularly interesting fact in light of the fact that Virginia governors may not serve consecutive terms. Since three years remain on the current governors term, Mr. Norment’s incomplete term would allow him to run in the next election, possibly bringing about a defacto reversal of the Virginia state constitution’s clear intent to impose term limits.

Skullduggery indeed. Like 911 this incident smells too awful, and the indifference to the ripple effects of the actions in Virginia are just too well designed and timed to be coincidence. I don’t just smell fire here, I’m choking on the smoke. Two questions are begged. First, might it be that we are defining a character apart from one prohibited by law, to become the one and only template for our elected officials? And secondly, are are we, by defining an acceptable character of our elected officials, allowing persons more than willing to do so to subvert our democratic process by giving them the club of public disapproval, and the knife of easily led minds

Brother Theo

The Butcher Shop

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Best Practices Result: Evangelizing to A Non-believing Audience

Sun, 02/10/2019 - 9:47am
Best Practices: Evangelizing To A Non-Believing Audience

After thousands of evangelism debates on social media and live discussion, I found the most effective persuasive argument for God, when approaching atheists and agnostics, is a non-belief-based, non-passionate, factual discussion of the probability the Gospels **ARE** a fake story.  I’ll explain why, below.

Don’t rely on scientific, “nature is proof”, or short arguments – you’ll lose every time because the non-believer already assumes you are religiously crazed and can’t employ logic. I found they are well prepared to summarily dismiss and even mock these arguments.

The reason this “historicity” approach is best is because I found in around 500 attempts on forums with up to thousands of forum readers, this has

  • the longest time of engagement,
  • the least “turn off” percent,
  • and it gets others’ wheels turning in ways logic or nature arguments don’t.

Good salesman know “engagement time” is critical to persuasion.  “When they’re talking, your selling.”  So always choose the most engaging approach if you want to persuade someone.

What Else Did I Try?
  • If I tried to use belief-based arguments, a majority assume I think I am at a higher spiritual level – prideful – after which I find immediate and even long-term rejection of meaningful discourse ends.  Many people stop talking to me completely.
  • If I tried to reference great minds or scientists who believe in God, I found no luck there either, as most people distrust “intellectual Christians,” now. Evangelizing by reference to intellectuals, spoken to average intelligence people, did not work well for me at all.  Zero successes.
  • C.S.Lewis’ excellent logical argument failed, too.  The non-believer simply ignores Lewis’ premise their own logical thought is incapable of discerning truth, if their thoughts are based on a random chance arrangement of atoms.  In other words, Lewis said if the human mind is a random creation by chance of nature, all thoughts emanating from it, are chance, and the mind cannot discern truth.  My sense is this reasoning failed because the non-believer worships their own thoughts as supreme, by default, since they don’t believe in a higher authority. Not believing in one thing, means a person believes in something else.  (I noticed non-believer use the word belief quite frequently.)
Socrates and Columbo Are Your Allies          

I found the most success with “delightful detective” talk. Start by mandating you want a discussion which refuses to discuss any mention of the WORD belief, nor any reference to God.  Mandate a discussion ONLY of the likelihood of the truthfulness of the Gospels, not the entire Bible.  The confident, gracious non-believers always like that…..for a few sentences.

Let me be clear: Insist the discussion of belief (or its siblings: opinion and feelings) are OFF the table – only pure evidence and well understood historical facts about Rome and Western cultural progress may be used. Make THEM prove the Gospels are fake dialogue, despite the truth of the Gospel stories being a historically DOMINANT influence on western culture and the Roman Empire.

  • Can they make the case a fake story fooled the culture on earth most noted for truth and sciences logical foundation?
  • The Apostles went to Greece early on to prove their case, so do they really insist a bunch of fake story tellers could fool the culture which discovered and promoted Socratic analysis and questioning, the same inquiry style our courts, detectives and scientists use constantly?   All of Judeo-Western analysis and judicial behavior is based on Socrates’ reasoning, so all of western culture is impugned if Greece and the Roman empire could not discern a fake Jesus and fake Apostles.  (More details on this perspective will be provided below.)

Discussing Belief Ruins The Case For Truth

Once you allow the discussion to mention belief, you will lose the argument.  No one ever wins a belief contest, so don’t try.  In fact, I’ve never won any belief, opinion, or feelings contests: When someone wants to argue any of these 3 subjective points to you, your facts are going to lose the argument and the opponent is signaling you their factual foundation is too weak to speak of.  You are debating a con man.  Stall that path immediately.

Make sure to stop the discussion any time the word belief comes up.  Quickly remind the opponent he cannot use the word belief, if they try.  Impugn opinion and feelings as well – per the agreement you made with them to start the discussion, right?   Memorize these responses and try them out, you’ll see all non-believers digress (prevaricate) from these points of persuasion, it appears they all KNOW the truth:

  • “We ARE NOT discussing beliefs, we are only discussing truth. Remember we agreed not to discuss beliefs.”
  • If they say truth is never clear, or “your truth and my truth,” then tell them “Courtrooms all over the country and schools all over the nation know and teach truth all day.  If you can’t tell what truth is, you are not being honest.  You would advocate all schools and courts shut down if truth is always impossible to discern.”
  • If they suggest truth is evasive or always murky, it is a LIE. The definition of truth was clearly defined by Socrates and is employed every day in trials and engineering and thesis reviews:  Truth is that which has highest fidelity to the original.   The story with the least amount of conflicts, is the most truthful.  A story or analysis without conflicts is a truth.
  • The conflicts in dialogue between the Gospel accounts is NORMAL for witness testimony. Including 4 witness accounts of events of Jesus’ life is STRONG evidence of a promoter of truthfulness:  More witnesses are always considered better in a courtroom trial, or a new report, and their testimony is almost always, in some places, conflicted, even for a well understood event.
  • Conversely, when a lie is to be created, the promoters never want to promote a series of plain spoken witnesses, quite the opposite.

Interestingly, Paul said everyone knows the truth in Acts, which is exactly the behavior I noticed:  People who claim they “don’t believe” also display the behaviors of prevarication – deception – by evading the discussion of the most powerful evidence Jesus was who he said he was. They appear to know the truth, and disbelieve, rather than admit the truth.

W.W.A.D.: What Would (the) Apostles Do?

Interestingly, the approach I found, I later found is exactly what the Apostles used in Greece:  Establishing the truthfulness of their message with debate.

Acts 17:11 “Now the Berean Jews were of more noble character than those in Thessalonica, for they received the message with great eagerness and examined the Scriptures every day to see if what Paul said was true. 12 As a result, many of them believed, as did also a number of prominent Greek women and many Greek men.”


Challenge the non-believers  to tell you how a fake story could change the entire course of Rome and the western world:

  • How did early Christians endure crucifixion for a lie?  No such exhibits of lying for a myth or a fraud exist in human history.
  • How did the intellectuals in Greece get fooled, when they specifically recite in Acts that deep study and days of debate with the Apostles went on, BEFORE the Greeks believed?
  • The “Roman Cabal Theory”: Rome made up the Bible?  Really? How did the Romans convince a bunch of monks to meet at Nicaea and concoct a fake, and rather anti-political, anti-government book for Rome?  IMPOSSIBLE.
  • If Jesus were a fake story, why did the Apostles go to the nearest culture most noted for analysis and truthfulness, the Greeks? Why didn’t they go to gullible people nearby?
  • Why would anyone travel to foreign lands and be imprisoned and beaten, to tell a lie about a fake actor?
  • Luke was a physician, physicians know people well.  A fake person is easy to spot by a smart person.

THOSE deceptions I just cited, on a mass scale, would take fantastically unbelievable miracles to happen – to fool an entire culture and government and monks.  These fantastically improbable behaviors are even more improbable than the miracles than Jesus is credited for:

Truth: The “fake Jesus” story of the non-believers just relies on too many fantastic evasions of historically affirmed influence and events, to be true.

Read the author’s top rated book on how to save the economy and our social grace:
Atlas Shouts.

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Sun, 02/10/2019 - 12:54am
It’s easy to dismiss individual programs that benefit non-citizens until they’re all  put together and this picture emerges.  Someone did a lot of research to put together all this data. Often these programs are buried within other programs making it difficult to find each of them.

The following 11
 reasons should be forwarded over and over again until they are read so many times that the readers gets sick of reading them. Included are the URL’s for verification of all the following facts. 1 .  $11 Billion to $22 Billion is spent on welfare to illegal immigrants each year by state   governments. Verify At:
   eServer?pagename=iic_ immigrati onissuecenters7fd8  Pag eServer?pagename=iic_immigrati onissuecenters7fd8 > 2 .   $22 Billion dollars a year is spent on food   Assistance   programs such as food stamps, WIC,   and free school lunches for illegal immigrants. Verify   At:  20 04/fiscalexec.HTML The High Cost of Cheap Labor | Center for Immigration Studies About the Author Steven A. Camarota is Director of Research at the Center for Immigration Studies in Washington, D.C. He holds a master’s degree in political science  3 .   $2.5 Billion dollars a year is spent on Medicaid for illegal immigrants. 

Verify At:   04/fiscalexec.HTML The High Cost of Cheap Labor | Center for Immigration Studies About the Author Steven A. Camarota is Director of Research at the Center for Immigration Studies in Washington, D.C. He holds a master’s degree in political science ec.HTML > 4 .   $12 Billion dollars a year is spent on Primary   and secondary school education for children here illegally and they cannot speak a word of English!

Verify At:
 TRA NscriptS/0604/01/ldt  0.HT ML T RA NscriptS/0604/01/ldt .. 0.HT ML   > 5 .   $17 Billion dollars a year is spent for Education for the   American-born   Children   of illegal immigrants, known as Anchor babies. 

Verify At: TRA NscriptS/0604/01/ ldt.01.HT ML T RA NscriptS/0604/01/ ldt.01.HT ML 6 . $3 Million Dollars a DAY is spent to incarcerate illegal immigrants.

Verify At:   TRANscriptS/0604/01/ldt.01. HTM L <
TRANscriptS/0604/01/ ldt.01.HT M L”
href=” http://transcripts.cnn. com/%20 TRANscriptS/0604/01/ldt.01.HTM L ”
target=”_blank” rel=”nofollow” http://transcrip /01/ldt.01.HTML > 7 . 30% percent of all Federal Prison Inmates are illegal immigrants. 

Verify At:   lBlockedError.aspx  Ur lBlockedError.aspx > 8 $90 Billion Dollars a year is spent on  Illegal   immigrants for Welfare & Social   Services by the American taxpayers. 

Verify At:
   PTS/0610/29/ldt.01.HTML  TRANSCI PTS/0610/29/ldt.01.HTML > 9. $200 Billion dollars a year in suppressed American wages are caused by the illegal immigrants. 

Verify At:
   NSCRI  TRA NSCRI > 10 . In 2006, illegal immigrants sent home $45 BILLION in remittances to their Countries of origin. 

Verify At: .
http:// nih m >;

11.   The Dark Side of Illegal Immigration: Nearly One million sex crimes committed By   Illegal Immigrants In The United States . 

Verify At: http: 
Are we THAT Stupid?

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Woman Who Walks On Stones

Sat, 02/09/2019 - 10:29pm

The Journey

I opened the door expecting trouble; instead he saw a tall skinny boy of indeterminate age with a bushy carrot top hairdo and a face full of freckles. “Are you folks alright?” He asked craning his neck to look around Beaver.

“Yep,” I said waggling my fingers behind my back motioning Porter to follow me. Pushing past the boy out onto the porch I said “We heard a commotion out here and were just coming out to have a look see.” The boy continued to look through the doorway anxiously until Porter pushed past him onto the porch pulling the door to behind him.

“You have any idea what’s going on?” I asked making a show of looking at the police cars and the neighbors who were fairly gawking at us.

“Well…” said the boy, drawing out the word, “I thought you might know, I mean, it seemed like a bomb went off like, you know, right here.”

“Right where?” I asked innocently casting my eyes around. I took in the boys too short jeans, his thin tee shirt and the high top sneakers and pegged him at around sixteen or seventeen.

“Uh, well, right here, or you know…” his voice trailed off.

I held out my hand and the boy took it automatically, pumping it hard as I said “I’m Beaver, Mandi’s Grandfather. Does it look like a bomb went off right here?” I gestured around at the porch.

“I’m Justin” he said continuing to pump my hand rapidly. Justin from two doors down?” He ended the statement as a question in that irritating way that kids had nowadays.

“You not sure where you come from boy?” Porter, who had been straightening the porch and resetting the chairs spoke for the first time.

“Uh no” the boy began and Porter spoke again.

“Sir.” He said.

“What?” He asked looking confused.

“No sir.” Said Porter. “That’s a man you are talking to son, and you call Him sir.”

Justin looked completely confused. “Now” said Porter with a dangerous edge to his voice.

“Sir.” Justin mumbled to his shoes. Looking up he straightened a bit and holding out his hand he said “I’m Justin.” Porter looked at the hand coldly.

“I heard.” Fixing his gunslinger eyes on the boys wide eyes he sank back into the papa sahn chair and put his feet up on a stool. I sighed. That sure was a comfortable chair. A minute passed while Justin stared into Porters eyes the way a bird might look into a snake’s eyes before the snake struck.

“Well?” He asked, you planning on staying for supper or something? G’wan now, hyuh, hyuh now, go on out there and fetch us some news about what’s going on out there.”

The boy looked dubiously at the missing porch rail and the damage to the outside wall. Turning to go he paused and looked back at me. “The girl who lives here…the one who’s, umm, like you,” he began.

“You mean Injun?” The boy winced, but didn’t look back. “Mandi is my granddaughter I said gently, “she’s fine. She’s inside getting dressed. She was taking a bath when whatever made that noise happened. I’m sure she will be out shortly.”

The back of the boys neck reddened. “Yes…sir.” He cast a quick glance backward at Porter who nodded his approval.

“It ain’t the early bird that gets the worm son, it’s the smart one. You remember that.” He called to Justin’s retreating back. I looked unlovingly at the the straight backed chair that remained, and sat down in it. Porter was shaking his head and looking at a crack in a floorboard as if it had wronged him in some inexplicable way.

“Look, Porter,” I began.

Holding up his hand and continuing to stare at the cracked board as if it had bitten him without reason he said, “Stop me if you’ve heard this one.” Staring fixedly at the porch the gunslinger went on. “As the sheriff of Utah I spent a surprising amount of time seeing to the safety of

Brother Theo

communities, and that meant looking over emergency plans and the things folks need in case of emergency.” I nodded even though Porter was not looking at me. “So there was this time once in Layton when the local fire chief was showing me around, and a couple of boys came by walking beside a little wagon being pulled by a dog and a cat. The wagon was full of buckets of water, and they had painted the words ‘Fire Department’ on both sides.” The noise had dimmed noticeably around, but when I looked up what I saw increasing activity. I was about to point this out to Porter when I looked back and saw him looking at me challengingly. “Those boys,” he said “had put a collar on the dog, but instead of a collar and harness, they had just tied a rope from the cat’s tail to the wagon.” Porter’s eyes held mine, and I did not break the gaze. ” I explained to those boys that the wagon would go faster if they harnessed the cat the same way as the dog.” Porter shook his head and looked away. After a second or so he resumed. “I was squatting down beside the animals showing them this when one of those boys gave that rope a pretty fair yank. Right then that cat gave out a yowl that loosened my good teeth, and I went over on my hindquarters like a damned fool. The dog jumped like Jehoshaphat, lighting out for who knows where. Last I saw of those boys was them chasing that wagon.

The youngest of the two looked back at me and grinned; I heard him say over the barking of the dog and the yowling of the cat, ‘But then we would not have a siren.’ You see Beaver, I feel like I may be in the wrong joke.” I was aware of the door opening as Mandi walked out onto the porch.

Behind her I heard Mosi growl “Very funny, oh yes very funny.”

As Mandi pulled the door shut, Zina must have been on the other side speaking with her voice raised. “Most of the time he tells that one the rope is around the cat’s testicles!” Mosi made a sound of inarticulate disgust. Porter turned managed to look embarrassed and outraged at the same time. Mandi took in the shimmering air that surrounded the porch and registered the sound dampening effect. She looked at me questioningly, and I shrugged. Stepping through the gate, approaching the porch officers Hargrove and Chambliss looked somehow worse than their last appearance. Quickly Mandi related that Zina and Mosi were going into “stealth mode”, whatever that meant. I looked at her inquiringly; she shrugged in return. Outside the shimmering barrier officer Hargrove reached out a finger to touch the nearly invisible curtain.


The Butcher Shop

The post Woman Who Walks On Stones appeared first on Tea Party Tribune.

CigarBox – Rich Trash

Sat, 02/09/2019 - 8:18am

So was the history of the making of the Bend. Stolen from the Indians, then lost to laziness and stupidity, it had been baptized in blood and deceit. And right in the middle of it all was a small dark man called Juan Sanchez who began clearing his lot near the river to build his hacienda. Claudette’s mind snapped back to the present.

Stillwell had been dead over six years now. She had new issues in her life. Now Michael wanted to be married, and he really didn’t care who the girl was. He had absolutely no common sense! She frankly wondered if she’d picked up the wrong baby at the hospital. How did he center in on June, she wondered. Fact was he had a couple of girl friends in the little town, though he wasn’t as involved with them as he was with June. She was certainly the prettiest, but not the only girl in Mike’s life. The difference in the two perspectives was that June was playing for “keeps” and Mike was playing the field. After he’d been initiated by June behind the catfish house he’d taken his truck around town, in particular to a little lady of seventeen over on Commerce Street. She was from a middle class family and knew how to keep her private life to herself. She was planning to go on to college, or the military and then college, and didn’t want or need any problems with a passing affair with Mike to botch up her plans. Her father was the local deputy referred to affectionately as “Deputy Dawg” because he was so blamed ugly. This characteristic did not carry over to his daughter, however, and Mike was sneaking into her bedroom window at every opportunity.

What Mike, or Claudette didn’t seem to realize was that June was in control of this situation, not them! At the tender age of sixteen, and just barely that, she was still quicker and more determined than most any girl in the little town. While the deputy’s little girl was still playing high school games, June was playing big girl games. She set her sights and she went after what she wanted, and she always got what she wanted! Mike’s mom may have been the big time real estate broker, but June was the small town operator.

Claudette stared at Mike in confusion. “Why do you have to be married? Aren’t you happy with your truck?”
“Well, I love her. I need to be with her. I want her with me!”

“But all you have for a job is your dishwashing job at the catfish house, and you aren’t even out of school yet! You’re only seventeen. You’ll be eighteen before you graduate. You need to wait on these things.”

“Don’t care. Gotta be with her!”

“Sounds like you been around her enough! A kiss or two behind Fat Eddie’s, and you gotta be with her? When will you ever start thinking big, Mike?”

She just sat there and stared at him. He had about eight months to finish high school. She needed to keep him in school, but she knew that the attraction of this girl was very great. She added up the years and she was well aware that Mike was almost eighteen and June was just now sixteen. If he’d been catting around with the “Catter” it was a legal issue that could blow up in his face, her face, everybody’s face! She had to put him off so she told him that she’d give it some thought. What she did was to call her ex-husband in Tennessee. This rubbed her the wrong way, but it was the best place to send him to get his mind off June.

Calling her “ex” took a bit of preparation for Claudette. There had been no real contact between them for the last fourteen or fifteen years. He’d never paid a dime’s child support, and he never contacted her. Mike actually didn’t know how to get in touch with him, and had in fact forgotten all about him. She waited until one Sunday when her husband went to church. He went to Mass about once a month. Claudette, a Baptist, went to church on rare occasions, but watched the preachers on TV. She stayed home to “straighten up” the house, and try to catch up on any work she’d missed during the week. Michael didn’t go with his stepfather because he was going to help her with the project. While Mike was out in the back putting up the yard chairs Claudette placed a call to Memphis. Ed was polite and listened to her dilemma
“Michael wants to get married.”

“He’s only seventeen. He can’t get married. He’s still in school, ain’t he?”

“Yeah, but it’s this June girl. He thinks he’s in love. She’s quite a looker. She could melt the wax off of a Dixie cup at one hundred yards.”

“Well, he ain’t in love, he’s in lust! What do you want me to do about it?”

Claudette formulated a plan with Ed, as much as she didn’t even wish to speak with him. Together they would devise a method to remove Mike from Texas
and hide him in Tennessee away from the ideas he was formulating about marriage.

Later that very day, as she went through some old papers and things from a box, she let a piece of paper innocently fall to the floor. Michael reached down to pick it up, but she said, “Oh, don’t mind that. Let me have it!” She made a grab for it, making a very big deal out of it so as to attract his attention to the paper.

Now, if you want a boy to get interested in something just tell him not to look at it. Mike picked the paper up and looked at the writing on it. An address, and a phone number on a page that he’s not supposed to read will usually do the trick. “Who is it?”

She made a half hearted grab for it, “Oh, nothing. Let me have it!”

“No, who is it?”

She gave a long lingering “somber” look, and said, “It’s your father’s address and phone number. I never wanted you to see it ‘cause I didn’t want you to worry about him, that’s all!”

Mike stood up and ran his fingers over the paper, yellowing with age. “He still there?”

“Yeah, he’s still there. His mom and dad gave him the house he lives in. But you don’t wanna call him. He don’t care about you!”

Mike walked out of the room, carrying the paper with him. He left the house and went to the golf course. As he walked past the golf carts, he stared at the little piece of paper. All these years, and all this time he had never heard from his father. How long had she known where he was? What hadn’t she told him? How could he know that his mother was counting on these very thoughts to work their way through Mike’s mind? She wanted it to be just enough to work June out of his mind. He wandered around a bit and then the curiosity got the best of him and he took his cell phone and called the number. His father was nice and led him right into Claudette’s trap.

By the time that Bill came back from church Mike had been on the phone with Ed for quite a while. The three of them met in the kitchen and Mike asked, “Would you mind very much if I went up to see my dad.”

Bill was surprised, “What brought that up?”

“He found a paper with Ed’s name on it. He went out and called him from his cell.”

Bill didn’t like Ed. He didn’t need any help supporting the boys, but he had no respect for a man who deliberately lost contact with his children. “Well, I don’t think that you should have any contact with him.”

Mike took a defensive posture, “He’s my dad! I can see him if I want!”

Bill’s first instinct was to slap the wise cracking boy, but he held his temper. Like his sons, he knew that Michael had Claudette’s full support. And, besides that, maybe this would get the little troublemaker out of the way for a little while. After years of disruption in his house the builder could see a small vacation might be good for the family. He knew deep down that Mike didn’t have the fortitude to stay in Memphis for long. The soft life he’d had at the Bend would call him home, but the break would be nice.

“Well, you just do whatever you want, but don’t think that we’re going to support you while you’re up there. Let ol’ Ed feed you for a while.”

Mike turned to Claudette, “Do I get a new truck before I leave?”

Bill left the room in disgust. He could see Mike tooling around Memphis in a brand new truck, which he would run into the dirt. By contrast, his son Buddy never asked for anything and in fact drove an old Chevy truck he had had the entire time he was in high school. Tommy just drove whatever he jumped into at the time. Only Mike had a personal truck.

A few days later, a few more phone calls were made, and the ex-husband, Ed, came to get Mike and take him to Tennessee. He was properly intimidated by the homes of the Bend. Claudette found it hard to imagine she’d ever been married to such a loaf of a man. He had gotten fatter, if that were possible, and had a beard that he thought made him look like Santa Clause. He looked like an inflated version of Mike. Soon the thrill of going somewhere different took over the idea of marriage, or a new truck, which was not purchased. Claudette was not going to provide Ed with a new truck to drive around in. Mike settled down in Tennessee. He went to high school there, rode horses there, and “cruised the strip” there. He forgot all about June. But June was not the type that would be easily forgotten. She began to plan, scheme actually, to get Mike back to Texas. Not knowing exactly where he was, or anything about the details of how he was suddenly spirited from her grasp, June was forced to wait until Mike contacted her.

As soon as the “new” wore off of Memphis Mike began to miss June. The girls in Tennessee didn’t have the ability that June had. They talked slow, and to Mike’s way of thinking, they were slow! There was something about the little feisty west Texas girl that kept Mike thinking about her all the time. She became more beautiful in memory even than she was in life! She was certainly freer than the Memphis girls, who were actually more “big city” than Mike was ready for. They wanted to date, and spend time, and his style of a hot dog and two minutes in the back seat of a car guaranteed that the first date was always the last. The horses were fun, the girls were there, but life in the Bend was far better than living in a shack outside of Memphis. Mike was beginning to understand deep within his soul that he was indeed a spoiled brat. He began to miss the life he’d known, and the money. Borrowing Ed’s old car was far different than driving around in a nice truck. He actually had to check his wallet when he went into a café to eat, and no one knew him. At the Bend, he was Claudette’s son, Mike. Here he was Ed’s son, and his father was not influential at all. When mixed with his lackluster personal style, the minute the girls saw just where he lived and met his father in all his chicken-dripping glory they split for higher ground.

Each morning he would rise as his father came in from his job at a local nursing home. He now worked the night shift, getting off about six in the morning, which gave him just enough time to get home and get Mike ready to go to school before he turned in for the day. In no time at all Mike did have a car of his own and stopped borrowing his father’s. It wasn’t much, but it got him around. He would cruise the “strip” and try to pick up girls, but he found that this was always a disappointment to him. He simply could not understand that he was also a disappointment to them too!

He began to grow during this time, and the world of adult relationships began to take their effect on his education. Since he hadn’t settled on just one girl he had to constantly cruise for new game and his grades slipped as his nightlife became more important than anything else. Mike wasn’t very concerned about school, anyway, but he had to come to the understanding that in this town he couldn’t rely on who his mother was to get him by on anything, not even school. About that time, he began a late night habit of calling back to Texas to talk to June. This was the very opportunity that June had waited for! At first, he did it when he told his father he was going to “cruise,” but later he did it from the house when his dad was at work. Then, in a moment of guilt about the bill he came to the realization of the collect call. June was more than happy to oblige him in this, and accepted every call. She led him through the paces of the stages of loneliness as only a West Texas firecracker could muster. Before too long Mike could actually smell her baby powder perfume over the phone.

“Hey, it’s me.”

“Hi Mike. You know, I could almost feel you today. I was in school, and Jeremy, you know him, well, he asked me out for like Friday, but I told him, ‘no,’ because you might come in town and see me by then. I didn’t let him think he could just come in like that.”

“I’ll get him when I come back!”

“Oh, could you just talk to me a while. I’m laying here on my bed and when you talk to me I can really feel you touching me.”

“Really? Where?”

“Special places. I’ve got my pink gown on and it’s so hot here, I just want to take it off, you know?”

Mike’s heart was beating like a sledgehammer. As the sweat poured from his forehead, and his hands trembled on the phone, June was actually reclining on the living room couch, fully clothed and eating popcorn while watching an old movie on TV. She put the phone on the back of the couch so she could just make out when he stopped talking. She knew him so well she’d give him a moment alone.

Between short, gasping breaths Mike said, “I gotta get back down there, June. I can’t see my life without you.”
Statements like this proved to June that the hook was in, and it was in deep. Mike was repeatedly saying phrases like, “when I come back,” not even bothering to say, “If.” It was a done deal as far as he was concerned, and that’s exactly what June wanted him to feel. Slowly but surely those Tennessee hills looked less, and less inviting, and Mike began to find little things wrong with his life in that state.

As the calls progressed he knew he had to get Claudette to agree for him to come back. Over the last couple of months he’d figured out that it really wasn’t his idea to come to Memphis, that in point of fact he’d been duped to remove him from June. Knowing this, he quickly figured that he had to turn Claudette’s thoughts toward bringing him back home. He knew his mother well enough to know that if she’d schemed up a way to get him up to Tennessee that it would take a fair amount of talk to get her to let him come home before he got out of high school.

“The mosquitoes are killing me. I can’t take it. Can’t sleep up here.” It was one complaint after another on the phone to his mother, who was beginning to miss him a little bit. Claudette had visions of Mike being a great real estate agent. She saw him heading up the family business and all the others falling in behind him just hanging on to every pearl of wisdom that dropped from his lips. Still, she knew that he had to graduate, and she knew that June was waiting in the wings.

“You’ve got to stay for graduation, Mike. You’ve only got four more months to go.”

“I don’t want to stay for graduation, mom. I want to come home!”

She wanted him to finish school and possibly come home after that. After all, that was the whole idea of his going to Tennessee in the first place was to finish high school. If he wanted to be with June after that, it would work out maybe, but not as a drop out. Ed didn’t really care. He had never really cared. The only reason he’d allowed Mike to even come to Tennessee was that he thought that it would get him into the bank account a bit. He was a huge insult to Claudette. Not only did he never support his own children in any way, he would now leap at every available opportunity to have her pay him for any thing he might do for his own son while the boy was residing there. The boy was a burden on him. He’d been free of this task since the divorce, and didn’t like the idea of anyone intruding upon his “space.” Claudette had been deliciously free of this slug until Mike had said he wanted to marry June, and her life was fine without him. He was even more of a deadbeat as an ex husband! It didn’t surprise her. He would call her (collect) and tell her how miserable Mike was up in Tennessee, and how he needed to be with her.

“Typical,” she thought. “He never was any good at all, and now he can’t even to this one little favor for four more months!” She became angry with Mike for ever starting this entire mess, but even more angry with herself for contacting Ed in the first place. She had secretly hoped that one day she’d just hear from someone that he’d been found bloated and dead in his little shack and that would be the sordid end of Ed!

Around February, it all came to a head. Having exhausted all other tricks and moves June confided in her mother one afternoon.

“Mom, I gotta talk to you.”

“What about dear. What’s on your mind?”

“Well, it’s me and Michael. We, uh, we been, uh, well, together.”

“Are you telling me you’re pregnant?”

“Well, I don’t know.”

“He’s been up there in Tennessee for a long time. Why you telling me this now?”

“I’m spotting now. Mom, I’m scared. I ain’t ever been this way before.”

Barbara was being cool about the whole thing, but inside she was scheming. If June had been with Michael in that way, it gave her a hold on the prize of all prizes. Not only to marry into “a” family at the Bend, but to marry into “the” family at the Bend! She knew that Mike was seventeen and June was sixteen, and all in all that didn’t look too bad, but soon, when he turned eighteen, things would be a tad different. For the few months that June was sixteen, and Mike was eighteen, Mike would actually be messing with a minor and he’d be an adult. That would give Barbara the advantage she needed to pry her daughter into the Bend!

She wasn’t actually concerned about any misgivings concerning June’s chastity, which she was sure had been left on some sand bar down at the river a long time ago, but she could put up the front that she was very outraged, and besides that, the judge wouldn’t care at all about June’s past, or present. She was sixteen years old! That was all that counted! She really didn’t want Mike to be in any trouble, but she did want him sufficiently scared enough to marry June. She knew that June couldn’t be pregnant by Mike, but she could string along the statutory rape thing just enough to put the fear of God in him and his family. It was an old Texas trick. Teenage girl comes up saying she’s been with someone. The families get together to work it out under the ever-present shadow of the law, and they come to the brilliant conclusion that the couple needs to just get married to “make it all right!”

Barbara viewed the Bend with envy. Years ago she had slept on the very same ground that Claudette’s home rested on now. Her jeans were tighter back then, and her blood ran hotter. She followed her lust instead of her mind and lost what little hold she would ever have on the Stillwell ranch. She could not see that Claudette’s business savvy had manufactured the myth that was the Bend. She, and she alone had sold this myth to the councilmen that day long ago. In point of fact the Bend was whatever it became in the mind of man. All Barbara could see was what the area had become, and she actually hated Claudette for it! To her it was as if there were some magical seed somewhere on the ranch that later took root and became the enormous subdivision with all the wealth, and power. But now God, in His wisdom, had placed the Bend within her reach! And she would take that shot.

She had a love affair with old man Stillwell during his late wife’s illness. With the old lady in her bed dying, the voluptuous Barbara would meet Mr. Stillwell in one of the far rooms and fill his every need. After the lady of the house died Barbara hung with the older man for a while, but when Ray came back from prison she’d found herself slipping off with him to scratch the itch that the older man just couldn’t seem to help her with, and in time her lust clouded her ambition and the entire thing blew up in her face. Only problem was at the time of the breakup she was already with child. A child she would name June, for the month she was born. Inside, Barbara knew whose child it was, and by then Stillwell was so mad about it he wouldn’t even talk to her. Combine that with just a little bit of guilt over how he’d carried on with his maid while Mrs. Stillwell died, and you have one very bitter old man!

Over fifteen years of living in the shacks behind Fat Eddies had prepared Barbara for the eventuality of getting a chance, any chance, to break out and get a piece of the proverbial pie. That was one reason she paraded June around like she did. Inside she knew that her beauty had fled, but June still had it, and that beauty would snare someone someday that would put her where she felt like she deserved to be. The affair with Stillwell was forgotten, or at least not spoken of in open company, and time and tears went by. Little June grew and knew that this man, Ray, was not her actual father. Barbara, not wanting to tell the little girl of her fling out at the Stillwell ranch, concocted a story about a “gambler” who came through town and romanced her. She told little June that the man was a big time dealer in Vegas, and that he swore to come back and get them all and take them up there some day. With enough repeating the story became carved in stone, and June accepted it as the truth.

June, in all honesty, didn’t entirely create the reputation she had. Barbara in her younger days was the “spittin’ image” of June, and her carrying on with the old man and the “dealer,” made many a lively conversation around the little desert community over the years. As Barbara’s beauty faded, little June came along and the reputation naturally attached itself to her, giving her looks a “timeless” capacity that men, both young and old enjoyed as they watched little June serve catfish on Friday nights.

She knew that her daughter had been carrying on with Mike, but to be honest she hadn’t really thought that Mike was “man” enough to have an affair with her little June. She viewed him as slightly effeminate to say the least. Now, that view would actually assist her in achieving her goal.

Mike was a born coward; hell everybody in town knew that. Buddy actually got thrown into jail once in high school for fighting to take up for Mike who was too chicken to defend himself. If she could raise the specter of deputy Dawg before the trembling boy’s eyes he’d do anything she asked. And, besides that, he’d get to marry June, who in her opinion was the best looking girl in town, if not the county, if not the state of Texas, even if she was only sixteen!

The phone rang at the little real estate office in town.


“Hello, this is Barbara, June’s mother. I’ve been talking to June, and I think you and I should have a little chat.”

“What about?” Claudette was being cool. She knew perfectly well what this call was about! It could only be about one thing. The two women didn’t run anywhere near the same circles, and the only reason a “have not” called a “have” was to “get!”

“Well, June tells me that they’ve been intimate. I think that Mike is just a little too mature to be carrying on with a sixteen year old girl, don’t you think?”

“Well, I don’t think anything. He knows better, and he’ll suffer the consequences. Well, you’ve told me, now what do you plan to do about it?”

“I just think we need to get together and talk this over. We need to see if these two kids really love each other, or what.”

“They are not old enough to love each other Barbara!” Claudette felt her temper rise, but then she calmed down and asked, “Would you like to meet at the catfish house?”

“Just me and you, Claudette. I’m not telling Ray. He’ll go nuts, and I don’t need that right now.”

Claudette knew that Ray would not “go nuts,” but she’d rather meet without all the cussing and table banging. Her husband was the biggest builder in this part of the state with the most connections. Ray wouldn’t destroy that income base over this, and besides, June being a part of such a family would actually benefit him. Claudette knew that Ray wasn’t as mercenary as Barbara, but she also knew that he really did want the best for his little girl, and to be perfectly honest a life at the Bend just beat the hell out of life in the shacks behind Fat Eddie’s!

Ever since Mike began his campaign to return to west Texas Claudette had been waiting for this news. She knew that Mike had been alone with June, and the whole problem of marriage or new truck had gotten him to Tennessee in the first place. Mike was seventeen, and in Texas that was an adult. Depending on the Judge (And Claudette owned them all) he could be charged with God knows what in this mess, and it would take a fair amount of “lawyering” and money to untie the knot! Mike’s stepfather, Bill, was another matter. He had always suspected Mike as being “low slung” in morals, and though he actually liked the little blonde from the other side of the tracks the most alluring thing about her was that after she popped in for coffee she went back to the other side of the tracks! He didn’t shout, but his opinion was firm.

“He took off out of here because he knew he was in trouble. So now, we have your ex-husband on the tit, and June about to move into my house. Do you think she’s really pregnant?”

“I don’t know. No, she can’t be. Not by Mike anyway. He’s been gone five months. You know her reputation out on the flat. We don’t know how many cowboys she’s been with. But we see her every Friday night at the catfish house, and she don’t look like she’s swelling up none.”

“She’s a small girl. I knew a kid once when I worked at the college who got pregnant. She was so small that no one knew she was pregnant until she just didn’t come to work for a week in the snack bar and showed up with a baby. I honestly thought she must have carried it in her pocket. June could be that way. You never know!”

“I don’t think so. I think Barbara would have pulled that rabbit right out of the hat. I don’t think she has the smarts to hold anything back.”

“She’s not smart, but she’s trash. Trash makes up for smart any day of the week.”

Claudette took offense at this remark. “I was raised up on Woodward Street in Memphis. Before that I was raised on a sand bar out in the Mississippi. Am I trash, too?”

He looked at her and smiled. “You and I are no different from them, hon. I was raised up in Briggs in a little house that just barely had a floor. But look around you. Do you see all we got? We are trash, too. But we are rich trash! Barbara’s attacking the only way she knows how. Heck, I don’t fault her. She’s just trying to survive. Make the best for her kid, that’s all. Can’t hold that against her. Still, I don’t want to just hand over my pile to someone like her.”

“We can’t just let them waltz in here and take all we got.”

“True. See, that’s trash for you, and Barbara’s not expecting that. She thinks we’ll be all righteous and scared, when really it don’t mean nothing. She’s just trying to marry off one of her kids. In a way, we’re lucky. Have you seen June’s little sister? ‘Moooooooooo!’ I’m just glad Mike didn’t get involved with her.” He laughed, but Claudette didn’t see what was so funny.

He knew that Barbara would not actually put Mike in jail. That was not the plan at all, because she wouldn’t get what she really wanted out of them. She wanted position, stature, and security for June, and Mike sitting in the county jail would not provide any of those things. Not to mention that the lawyers would come out, and the trial would be very bad publicity for June and family.

He thought a bit more, “Isn’t he involved with that other girl over on Commerce Street?”

“Oh, God! I don’t even want to think about that right now. That’s just what we need is to have that come crawling out of a sewer and bite us in the ass with this going on.”

“Sewer? Are you insinuating that she’s trash, too? Wow, a whole town full of trash. Isn’t that the deputy’s daughter?”

“Oh God! Let’s don’t open that can of worms. Deputy Dog’ll kill Mike!”

“Hey, I figure he’d be glad to get rid of that ugly little girl. Remember them big ears she had in the sixth grade? They’d hold up her baseball cap”

“No, that was Anna, who dated Buddy, and it was not the sixth it was the ninth.”

“Yeah, you’re right. You know, with all the ugly girls in this town, no wonder June looks so good to Mike!”

“Not funny!”

“Yeah, it is. Mike got himself into this. All he has to do is stay in Tennessee and he’ll never have a problem. Barbara’ll just find another mark and marry her little girl off to him.”

“What if he loves her?”

The man looked amazed. “Love? You honestly think he is capable of such a thing. I believe he wanted a new truck not six months ago. Threw the biggest fit in the world for it. Now that’s maturity. I can just hear you and him talking that one over. ‘Oh, mom, I want a truck; no, make that a wife. A truck, or a fuck.” He smiled contentedly to himself at the little rhyme he’d come up with but Claudette didn’t think it was so funny.

“Do you have to talk like that around me? I hate that! You know I hate that.”

“But, it’s the truth.”

“I’ll admit he’s a bit childish.”

He stared at her. “A bit?”

“Well, maybe a lot. But that’s not the problem here. I know he’s coming back, and he’ll want to be with June.”

“Oh, he’ll come back. That’s in the cards. That boy always wants to be somewhere he’s not. When he’s here, he’ll want to be there. Then back again.”

“Can we leave the subject?”

“No! I’m sick and tired of every time Mike’s little world turns around we all have to put our lives on hold.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is true and you know it. My boys paid all these years. Every time Mike sneezed, they paid. Your precious Mike got what ever he wanted.”

Claudette put her head in her hands, “Stop it! I just want him to be happy.”

Bill pulled her hands away from her face, “Why can’t we all be happy just this once? Why do we all have to play Mike’s little game?”

Claudette didn’t answer. She walked out through the French doors at the rear of the house and sat in a lawn chair, staring at the greens that she had built with her own intellect and sweat. How had Mike screwed up like this? She wondered how bad it would be having him marry the little blonde. She wasn’t bad looking, and she did come over to the house a lot. Claudette didn’t dislike the girl. She was just against being blackmailed. Bill came out on the porch.

“I’m sorry. I know this is hard for you.”

“Bill, I know he screwed up. I’m as mad about it as you are. We just gotta get through this thing the best way we can.” She reached up and held his hand.

“I think you need a sandwich down at the bend.”

“I used to know a man who’d take me there.”

“I still can.”

Cast The Next Stone

By Any Means Necessary

From The Mind of a Dumb Ole Biker

Buzz Buzz

Hate Speech

The Price Is Right

America’s Tribe

The Butcher Shop

The post CigarBox – Rich Trash appeared first on Tea Party Tribune.

America’s Tribe

Fri, 02/08/2019 - 8:24am

People joke about republicans being racist because that word gets thrown around way too easily. Hell, I would be the first to say that a healthy knowledge of self and other races could be a very useful thing but the thing that makes the truly wretched people problematic is their deceptive nature and the practice of discriminating based on a perceived race difference.

Everyone is a little racist or biased today just like everyone of us has fallen short of the glory of God
But when you start glorifying sin is when you and the purity of patriotism parts ways. Your cause is hurt by this. The point was unclear and seemed to have put down all races and tipped your hat to Islam for not aborting their babies. Collect your thoughts, aim well and make sure you hit your intended target.

Having military experience will teach you that patriots are all colors. If you believe and fight for American values/beliefs and the American people you are a patriot. Americanism is like a religion in a way
I have seen it through out America. The more you travel, the clearer the core principles become and I know that race has nothing to do with it. Hard work and ingenuity does. Gender has nothing to do with it! independence and self-reliance do.

I saw a video by a Native American, a Navajo. In it he was asking all Americans to be proud of just one drop of Naïve blood. He refuted the idea of someone not being ”Native enough.” He explained that because of the westward expansion of the settlers most Americans had that drop somewhere in their linage. That makes Americans unique among all the peoples in the world. People from all different backgrounds, all races, all origins, bound together by that one drop. A new race. A new tribe. America’s Tribe!

I think when you become an American, your religion does not matter. The first amendment protects you there. You have the freedom to believe what you will, and blaspheme anyone who doesn’t agree with you. No one cuts your head off. Americanism supersedes Islam and Catholicism and whatever else there may be in your past because we serve and protect each other from all enemies, foreign or domestic.

Six hundred and fifty thousand white folks went and got killed, settling the slavery issue. Don’t weaken your message with making fun of uneducated black folks, you are above that. The Klan was eradicated by the same white folks that saw what it leads to and genocide is always ugly to any decent human being. Anyone who subscribes to that philosophy deserves to be ON that burning cross!

The Butcher Shop

The post America’s Tribe appeared first on Tea Party Tribune.


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