Archive for February, 2010

So spake  Brendan Behan so many years ago.

Those long time readers may recall the Irish history lessons we posted at Techography.com many years ago.

I am happy to say we will be doing so again.

My heritage is Irish, and I have taken great pains to learn of us. The world has changed since my blood line walked the shores of the Emerald Isle.

But our hearts hold true to her still.

This is the month when all the would be Irish, could be Irish, should be Irish and sometimes Irish became true green Irish. Even if it is only for a day, the 17th.

For a time then, join hands with us, lads and lasses. Pour your self a pint, grab a chair and sit down. We have changed the curtains for the month as you can see, a bit of greenery where we usually have darkness.

Tis a month for celebration. Won’t you join us? Glad to have ya.

“This is one race of people for whom psychoanalysis is of no use whatsoever.”
- Sigmund Freud (speaking about the Irish)

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My life as an adult has recently started at 31 years old…

You see, I have squandered most of my life away on pleasures of the illegal nature, I know what you’re thinking, but don’t give up on me yet.  Its easy to skate through life not caring about what happens next, hell, look at the 60′s.  I lived with my parents until i was 30, not that I wasn’t ready to leave the nest, it was just simpler to stay there, I had no bills, accept for my car payment.  If I lost my job, well, mom and dad wouldnt kick me out of the house, I just lounged around until I fount the next mediocre job.  I was a child of the night, stayed awake most of my 20′s and loved every minute of it.  I had a million friends, and life was good…..

About 2 years ago, however, things got real bad for me.  I started loosing everything I had worked for one by one.  Not that it hadn’t happened before, I always seemed to loose the important things I had gained, but this time it was for real.  It started when I refused to go home one day, my mother and I gotten into a huge fight, and I said to my father “I’ll just stay at a friends place for a few days”.  What a load of BS.  Three months later, I was living in a house with 4 other people with no water, stolen power, no food, and no money.  The only things I possesed were the things that I robbed from neiboring houses.  Through a series of coincidences, my parents had found out where I had been staying, and they set up a little trap for me.  My mom came right in to the house where I was at, marched right into the room I was in, and pleaded with me to come to her house and talk to her.  Now, the year before I “disapeared”, I had been a very active member of Narcotics Anonymous and had many caring friends there.  When I arrived at my parents house, there stood my father, and one of my closest NA friends.  They talked me into joining a rehab facility called The Extension and by doing that, saved my life.

Today, life is full of wonder, and possibility.  I have a beautiful wife, a brand new baby boy, a job that I actually like showing up at, and I have enough bills to keep me responsible for a lifetime…..and I couldn’t be having more fun than I am right now.

At the end of the tax year, the IRS office sent an inspector to  audit the books of a local hospital.  While the IRS agent was checking  the books he turned to  the CFO of the hospital and said, “I notice you  buy  a  lot of bandages. What do you do with the end of the  roll when there’s too little left to be of any  use?”

“Good question,” noted the CFO. “We save them  up and send them back to the bandage company and  every now  and then they send us a free box of  bandages.”

“Oh,” replied the auditor, somewhat  disappointed that his  unusual question had a practical  answer. But on he went, in his obnoxious  way.

“What about all these plaster purchases? What do  you do with what’s left over after setting a  cast on a patient?”

“Ah, yes,” replied the  CFO, realizing that the inspector was  trying to trap him  with an unanswerable question.

“We save it and send  it back to the manufacturer, and every now  and then they  send us a free package of plaster.”

“I see,” replied  the auditor, thinking hard about how he could  fluster the  know-it-all CFO. “Well,” he went on, “What do you do  with  all the leftover foreskins from the circumcisions  you perform?”

“Here, too, we do not waste,” answered  the CFO. “What we do is save all the little foreskins and  send them to the IRS Office, and about once a year they  send us a complete dick.”

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*All Hands on Deck!*

Attention to orders!

USS FRANKLIN (CV-13) Reunion – 18-21 March, 2010
The crew of the USS FRANKLIN (CV-13) will hold their 2010 reunion from the 18th to the 21st of March, in Branson, MO.

Specific location: Lodge of the Ozarks.

Special event: Memorial service morning of 19 March. This will be held on the 65th anniversary of the attack off the coast of Japan.

Registration closes 1 March, 2010.

Contact for Questions:
Sam Rhodes 772-334-0366 or
Beth Conard Rowland (daughter of crewman) 740-524-0024 (please leave message)

For those unfamiliar with the USS Franklin:

The USS Franklin was the most heavily damaged carrier of any action in WW2 – that she survived is testimony to the bravery, determination and damage control skills of her crew.  One hundred six officers and 604 enlisted were all that remained to save the ship – the rest were killed or wounded.  In the blink of an eye –

A single enemy plane had made a low level run on the ship to drop two semi-armor piercing bombs.

One struck the flight deck on the centerline, penetrating to the hangar deck, effecting destruction and igniting fires through the second and third decks, as well as knocking out the combat information center and airplot.

The second hit aft, tearing through two decks and fanning fires, which triggered ammunition, bombs and rockets.

The Franklin, an Essex class carrier that was within 50 miles of the Japanese mainland, lay dead in the water with a  13° starboard list,  radio communications lost, and broiled under the heat from enveloping fires. Many of the crew were blown overboard, driven off by fire, killed or wounded.

After the damage she sustained she spent the rest of the war in repairs only to be decommissioned in 1947

That is all! Dismissed!

H/t Maggie & Castle Argghhh!

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Welcome V00d3w to the ®Evil clan.

Vood3w, Calimus and I go wayyyyyyyyyyyyy back, to the late 1980′s.

We only recently made contact with him again, and we’re glad to know he’s alive, well and back in the fold as it were.

As such he and I have spent almost every day chit chatting via instant messenger, found our we really have not changed a lot in the 10 years we had not seen each other. We both have had our demons, we both have moved on, and we all still think about on the same lines.

With that in mind, his only flaw is his love for the Georgia Bull Dogs.

Oh well, no one is perfect :)

Give a welcome if you would, to a very old friend of mine!




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Ok Folks.

The ®Evil Store is open for business with a few new items, and some old stuff from our sister site Techography days.

But what I really want is…..is volunteers.

A contest if you will.

I want some submissions for images we should use on some items in the ®Evil Store.

So here’s the deal!

1: Bloggers: If your a blogger just create a design, post it on your Blog with a Track Back to here or drop me a comment.

2: Readers: If your a reader, create a design post it on Photobucket, Twitter, or anywhere and leave me a comment with the link!

3: Contest: On St Patrick’s Day March 17 I’ll host a poll with each design submitted.

The winner of the contest will receive any One item from my cafe press store of their design and choosing, paid for and shipped by me. You’ll also get Blogged credit for the design.

If there is a tie both designs will be selected and the same rules apply. I’ll be broke, but you’ll get cool stuff!

So there ya go.

Free stuff. Free Credit and World Renown. Well, Blog Renown anyway.

Let the games commence!




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Finally got around to fixing the ®Evil Store.

I honestly didn’t even know the link was jacked up until I went in to update it.

Ahh well.

Anyway I do not have a lot of items in there but I am working on some new designs today. So pop in over there if you like, grab a coffee cup or something.

Also the items created for our sister site of Techography.com is still there as well and available.

Enjoy!

Seriously. Somebody clue me in here. But whats left to be said by Tiger at this point?

It’s not like his actions have not been brazened across the globe.

It’s not like we have not heard from a dozen women he was involved with.

It’s not like we don’t know he couldn’t keep his fly zip, while married to a gorgeous super model.

I mean aside from the fact that any other red blooded man with an ounce of intellect would have kept his big mouth shut and his pants on for nobody but his honey (provided of course they were, too, married to a rich hot Swedish model.)

Tiger had it made dude. He already had everything.

So whats he going to say: “Hi. I’m Tiger Woods. I was a dumb ass. But when it comes to women I had one motto: Just do it!” or “I’m Tiger Woods and I want to introduce to my new sponsor: Extendaprick!”

Maybe it will be “I don’t see what the big deal is. I got several hole in ones now that I’m rich so my handicap has went wayyy down!”

I mean what idiot in his right mind would trade this:

Elin Nordegren-Woods

Elin Nordegren-Woods

For this:

Mindy Lawton

Mindy Lawton

Sorry, Tiger. But it doesn’t matter what you say. Your in the bunker, 9 strokes down, and you have just been handed a E-tool to make it to the fairway.

In this cowboys eyes, you just can’t fix stupid.

I just do not think it can be said better than this

I just do not think it can be said better than this

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Updated: Featured at H&I Fires at Castle Argghhh! There have been so many stories regarding K-129 that you could fill a stadium with the theories, ideas and probabilities. From rogue KGB operatives attempting to fire ballistic missiles on Hawaii, to a boat to boat collision with another submarine, the mystery surrounding K-129 is not simply one of why did the sub go down, but also of how much of the sub came back up? Toss in the multiple theories and it can quickly become a question of  how many boats were involved, and the politics that involved them. How did I get in to this? A former ground pounder writing on Naval History? My father was Navy, and got me interested in history years ago. I once built models of the USS Monitor and the USS Merrimack/CSS Virginia and I visited Hampton Rhodes  harbor area quite frequently while living in the Portsmouth area, intrigued by the history there. I am no naval expert. So just maybe, this writing will be something enjoyable to many who might not know the story of K-129, or heard of her recovery. This is one right out of a novel by Clive Cussler or Tom Clancy.

Read the rest of this entry »

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I have had a desire to write some history related tidbits on here for quite a while. Unfortunately each time I remind myself of a date, somehow or another something gets in the way of the writing, and I forget.

Fortunately John D. of Nobody Move reminded me that yesterday was the anniversary of the Valentines Day Massacre.

So how precisely did Mr. Capone say “Happy Valentine’s Day!” on February 14, 1929?

With two fully automatic Thompson Machine guns (serial numbers 2347 and 7580), One with a 50 round drum and one with a 20 round magazine as well as two shotguns.

Over 70 rounds were fired in the entire episode, and seven men were killed.

The short version of what happened is on the morning of the 14th, Al Capone arranged for someone to call Bugs Moran and the North Side Irish gang and tell him that a special shipment of hijacked whiskey was going to be delivered to one of Moran’s garages on the north side. Adam Heyer, a friend of Moran, owned the garage and it was used as a distribution point for north side liquor. A sign on the front of the building at 2122 North Clark Street. At around 10:30 am, two men disguised as police officers, along with three more men in civilian clothing, carrying shotguns and hiding the Thompson machine guns cornered Bugs Moran’s North Side Irish Gang. Either by luck, instinct of poor planning Bugs Moran himself was not present.

From M. Gomes Collection

From M. Gomes Collection

The fake police backed the seven men in to a corner: Reinhart Schwimmer, an optometrist who was not an actual member of the gang but apparently someone who followed with them closely. John May, an ex-safecracker but whom did automotive work for them. James Clark, who was Bugs Moran’s brother in law and go to guy. Al Weinshank, ran a speakeasy for the Northside Gang and also the gangs cleaning and dying racket. Adam Heyer, was a robber whom had already been paroled once and now acted as the gangs business manager. Frank “Tight lips” Guesenberg and older brother Pete Gusenberg, brothers in blood in more ways than one having participated in a drive by shooting where they emptied over 100 rounds in to a hotel restaurant.

Once cornered, they had them face the wall, and then the gunmen opened fire.

Only one man survived the shooting, none other than Tight Lips himself, whom when asked “Who shot you?” Frank replied, “Nobody shot me,” ruining the opportunity to bring the murderers to justice. Unfortunately, with 14 rounds in his body Frank survived for only three more hours before taking the identities of the shooters to his grave with him.

Highball, from M Gomes Collection

Highball, from M Gomes Collection

The only true witness to the crime was none other John Mays German Shepard, named Highball. When police arrived he was tied to a truck, and had been there during the shooting, cowering beneath it and howling miserably.  It is said that he continues to howl at the location to this day.

A landlady across the road heard the dogs howls and sent one of her boarders over to see what was the matter. he returned shortly thereafter and frantically had her call the police relating that the building was full of dead men.

It may not have been roses, flowers, or a box of chocolates, but the St Valentines Day Massacre must certainly sent a message for Mr. Capone who was conveniently in Florida at the time of the shooting.

Sadly the massacre which was such a scandal of the time and has went down in history, pales compared to some of the modern gangland violence of today. I only hope it does not become as idolized as this event did.

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The folks at Milblogging.com have hooked up with a University of Washington-Bothell student to conduct a research study on MilBlogs being an alternative form of journalism.

As a business major, the whole science of this escapes me, but I can see the dollar value in it if proven legitimate.

Kurtis and his group created a blog called the Truth About War in hopes that military bloggers will take some time to give their thoughts, feedback or experiences on the subject.

As someone who has blogged from both Afghanistan and Iraq while deployed, I can tell you firsthand the mainstream media doesn’t always get it right. Of course, some might say this research is a waste of time, since we’ve all known for years that military blogs serve up one of the best forms of alternative journalism when it comes to reporting on the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. Now I’m not saying it’s not worthwhile to run this study, but seriously, trying to figure out if military blogs are a good form of alternative journalism, is like researching if buying stocks low and selling them high is probably a good idea

I blogged from Bahrain, Saudi Arabi, Bosnia and Kuwait.There was nothing like spending 6 dinar an hour just to get online

But our media coverage probably was not 1/16th of what you see on your TV’s these days and reporter embedding was no where near as prominent. Now it’s more of a cheerleader card. “Ohhh watch me watch me! I spent 3 weeks in a hotel in Baghdad and went out on a patrol where we actually got shot at! I know what i’m talking about and I can talk for all the soldiers now that I am far far away from friendly fire!”

I always love listening to these bonehead reporters wax eloquent about how they can speak for the troops because they’ve “been there”…for less than 3 weeks….and mostly in  hotel……

We don’t need you to speak for the troops: that’s why we have MilBlogs.

So they can speak for themselves.

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I have been up since the better part of 4 am.

Yes it is a  Saturday, and yes by all rights I should be sleeping in.

Fat chance. The ol internal alarm clock kicked me out of bed at 4:03.

Not that it really would have mattered much more.

For even though my beautiful bride and our brood slept soundly it was, indeed awakened.

See, I live out in the sticks. The Wilderness Retreat we call it. We have almost 10 acres and it’s heavily wooded save for a small spot where our house stands. I would have put our house right in the middle of it, however the majority of our property is at the bottom of a mountain, and in a draw. Only a small portion is on the top. We built on the top for a variety of reasons, chief among them is water access, septic tank, and oh yeah a road that would not be straight up, twice. Very important in bad weather.

This also means that I end up with neighbors.

Not many, but some.

We have a new neighbor who bought the property that I wanted to buy (it just never worked out) about 4 months ago.

He and his wife are….well….I hesitate to speak evil of people I am not more familiar with so lets just say they do not impress me.

For the majority of the winter, their dogs have been stealing Hucks food and water…because they do not feed them. This led to an understandable altercation with Huck and their dog…in my yard…with Huck on a chain. That was my introduction to them. They expected restitution, which I promptly provided in the form of a diplomatic response. “Next time your dog is in my yard I’ll just shoot it and save us all a lot of trouble.” They obviously mistreat the poor animal, the county does not have jurisdiction regarding rural animals (I called the Sheriff to be sure) both of the animals are extremely old and one is in heat……your getting the picture I trust. In my eyes I’d be doing the animals a favor. It would be quick, painless, and probably the most responsible thing that has happened to them in years.

Anyway they placed a derelict camper trailer on the property, promptly underpinned it with press board…and moved their pick up truck that sounds every bit like a Volkswagon in to the property.

As I said, I am not impressed.

This morning I am less so.

Through most of the winter we have listened to them climb in to their truck or their car (which sound amazingly similar) and rev tee total hell out of the engine.  My daughter awakes. My dog howls. I pray the engine blows up before my temper does.

It is 32 today. There is no snow predicted.It’s Saturday.

At 5 am they begin the rev’ing process. My peaceful, mountain top wilderness home is turned in to the Indianapolis 500 for unmufflered go-carts and lawnmowers with 6 cylinders.

They leave as my patience wears thinner. As I sit down with my coffee at 06:00 they return.

Then it starts.

Banging. Clattering. Pounding.

I open a blind.

The sky is a lovely shade of lavender. A slight orange tint is starting to bleed from the behind my home which sits long ways from the East. There is still a smattering of snow on the ground and a variety of birds are singing…I can hear them from the window I stand by. Across my lightly snow covered dirt road is my new neighbor.

He bends upon a concrete foundation started by the previous owner….a man who started many projects and in the 3 years he lived here finished absolutely none of them. The foundation is a testament to his work. Concrete cinder block, taken from a job site. The interior untouched, grass grows everywhere.

The cinderblocks blend with the grey of a Missouri winter morning. Grey cinder blocks, white/grey snow, grey/blue sky, blue jeans….and ass.

It’s not small either. It stretches rather obviously from one side of his truck to the other. I am not a small man, but even I am not big enough to requiring squeezing in to the back of a full size F-150.

He smiles at me in a sideways fashion…or rather ..his ass does.

It’s like a train running at full speed to a bridge on which sits a station wagon full of nuns on spring break in Miami. You can’t stop watching. Until my stomach tells me, “Oh yes.. you will stop watching.”

The banging and clattering continues. He has decided to build a house…or wooden..thing…on that the concrete bricks. At 6 in the freaking morning.

I close my blinds, rub the headache that is forming and try to be patient. Every one deserves a shot at a better life. Everyone deserves to rise above what they are.

But I can’t help thinking that my neighbor is precisely what I saw.

A sideways smiling, asshole.

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For years now we have heard the rantings.

I’ve always liked this quote:

Computer games don’t affect kids, I mean if Pac Man affected us as kids, we’d all be running around in darkened rooms, munching pills and listening to repetitive music.
Marcus Brigstocke

A few things have come to light since PC World released coverage on the Most Violent Video games ever made.

But as usual it is interpreted in multiple ways.

A Recent study showed a level of desensitizing of boys after playing violent video games.

What it did not do was compare the video games to other control groups such as, the nightly news, movies, or television.

That being said, Kieth Stuart says the study is flawed from the outset

Cognitive neuroscience is a complex field – it is perhaps not something to be prodded and poked at during a piece of realty TV voyeurism masquerading as documentary material….…if just 20 minutes of exposure is enough to turn normal boys into desensitized monsters, our streets should be filled with violence. They’re not.

Indeed. The numbers may be in his court on that one. Science Daily not long ago released a study showing that children tend to play video games for over 9 hours a week.

However studies are still not conclusive in either direction. While this author will admit having a bit of bias in the argument, he will go so far as to say he looks forward to conclusive studies that do comparisons across the baord.

Meanwhile a group called ProCon, has established a forum regarding Video Games, to act as a clearning house of information in the argument.

One hopes that maybe from the large amount of information that is designed to create a specified result maybe we can come up with a level unbiased result.

In the meantime the best thing to do to keep your 8 year old on track from being a mass serial killer after playing Grand Theft Auto?

Start being a parent and take it away from him or her.



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Being a Blogger is not always an easy business.

Being a blogger who left a site that he had written at for 10 years, that had an average of 200 hits a day when he left and over 6 million hits since their last update to start his own blog, is even harder.

There have been numerous bloggers whom have helped endorse this writers web addiction  over the years.

However, most recently it has been none other than Neptunus Lex.

I have received more links through him than anywhere else. So what if he’s a former Navy Fly Guy and I was an Army ground pounder. No inner service rivalry here.

Lex has  driven about 50% of my slowly returning traffic since my relocation to here, as it were.

He and I have exchanged E-mail in the past. Unfortunately it’s not one I have any more.

But even with that I would feel like he deserved a public thanks, or as we often call it a Hat tip, as he has been a blogger who has taken the high road on countless occasions that I can recall off hand.

So from one writer to another, many thanks. And fair skies in your next flight, Lex!

Do me a favor, repay the favor, and drop in on his site for me, will ya?

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Every good tailgater knows that there are two things that must happen to have an awesome tail gate: Planning and Preparation.

Every fan knows that, the special room you have set aside to show your loyalty, must also have two things:  Planning and Preparation.

For those of us whom live many miles from our beloved favorite/home teams location sometimes both of these items present quite a challenge.

Decorations are hard to come by. Knick knacks your opponents have are not so easily obtained.

One need only refer to myself and OfficerT’s frequent tailgates to see the difference.

He brings two tents with Arkansas Razorback markings, a grill painted red, a propane tank cover, numerous chairs, plates, cups, glasses, silverware and even a helmet to stick chips in.

I bring a beer glass, a bottle opener that plays Rocky Top and the Barbecue Utensils with UT stamped on them.

Its not that I don’t own UT stuff.

Ask anyone whom has worked with me and they’ll tell you I’m…well…obsessed :)

However it’s just not as easy, nor as logical to purchase some items I would use….such as a tent. It might get used once every 4 years when we play Arkansas. The rest of the time would merely earn me odd looks.

However I have found someplace, my fellow displaced fans, that will let you buy pretty much anything you could ask for….and then some.

Allow me to show you Fan The Fire.

It is Tennessee fan nirvana.

From ties, to cufflinks, from tents, to plates, towels to vehicle floor mats, it literally has everything.

I am told they have stuff for other schools as well.

But seriously…….who’d want something with Vandy on it when you could own this??

I am going to be sooooo ready for October……

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..but go directly to Jail.

When Bubba gets his hands on you?

And bends you over the bed railing?

…just think of it as earning another medal you can pin on yourself when you get out.

UPDATE:

Apparently being a General wasn’t enough for this moron. He’s previously been arrested for impersonating a US Air Marshall!

And of course the media still says they did it all. Uhm..lets check some dates shall we?

So whose behind?

I just do not think it can be said better than this

I just do not think it can be said better than this

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Love the beard...sir....Remember our post on this guy?

Love the beard…sir….

Welp he’s been arrested.

Thats right…he was arrested by the FBI.

Bouhammer and This Ain’t hell has the gory details but this blight was finally brought to justice, and a lot of it thanks to you readers help.

Lets hope this next moron isn’t quite so quick about giving themselves a list of medals that even General MacArthur couldn’t earn on his DD-214

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As a boy I looked to the stars.

I had my own telescope. Star charts. I had a subscription to a Odyssey an astronomy magazine for kids. I wanted to be an Astronomer.

I had watched The Right Stuff easily over 100 times. At night I walked in the footsteps of Buzz Aldrin, Neil Armstrong, Chuck Yeager, and others.

I could identify constellations. Still  can.  On more than one occasion knowing where something  was in a given month has saved my ass, literally. Such as now, if memory serves, is the time for Gemini and Canis Major.

A love of the stars is something I want to pass on to my daughter.

On September 12th, 1962 John F. Kennedy, the patron saint of the Democratic party, was at Rice University. On that day he gave a speech to a furrowed brow crowd of faculty and students among who were some whom demanded to know why our government was “wasting” money with a mission to the moon.

“….We set sail on this new sea because there is new knowledge to be gained, and new rights to be won, and they must be won and used for the progress of all people. For space science, like nuclear science and all technology, has no conscience of its own. Whether it will become a force for good or ill depends on man, and only if the United States occupies a position of pre-eminence can we help decide whether this new ocean will be a sea of peace or a new terrifying theater of war. I do not say that we should or will go unprotected against the hostile misuse of space any more than we go unprotected against the hostile use of land or sea, but I do say that space can be explored and mastered without feeding the fires of war, without repeating the mistakes that man has made in extending his writ around this globe of ours….”

But most importantly were these words:

“We choose to go to the moon. We choose to go to the moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard, because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one which we intend to win, and the others, too….”

But the times have changed you see.

Neither party, Republican or Democrat, have a patron saint in more. John Kennedy taken down in his prime, and Ronald Reagan now shakes hands with him in another world beyond ours, perhaps.

President Obama does not believe in dreams.

Even those that go unfilled. How many boys and girls of my age at the time looked above our heads and longed to be among the stars and dance with the lights?

How many adults look in to the night sky, and remember the excitement we felt finding Andromeda or Aries for the first time?

I never became an astronaut. I never became an astronomer. I made my living with in a different field, and in a different realm. It was a good living, a good job. But not what I wanted to do.

When we landed on the moon and thereby ended the great Space race we put the United States at the forefront of technology, and accomplishments on the world stage.  From 1957 until 1969 we and the Soviet Union worked our tails off to accomplish something that people only dreamed of and saw in cartoons.

It was a golden age not just for a country, but for a world.

Today we make nothing here. Our appliances are made in Mexico. Our cars are made in Japan. Our TV’s are made in Taiwain and our children’s toys are made in China. We worry about what the world thinks of us and cower in the corners while our soldiers die for other people in a foreign country so that they can be as free as…us? Do we really have freedom today?

We’re strip searched practically at the airport by incompetents who allow a bomb toting hate filled individual to board a plane because they are afraid to question him due to political correctness. We have individuals who kill their fellow soliders on a military base because the chain of command is scared to death of being punished themselves by political correctness.

In 1962 we chose to go to the moon. Not because it was easy, but because it was hard!.

We chose to rise above, to be more than we could be, to set a standard to break molds to not go quietly in to that good night.

Unfortunately today we choose to only go in to the night without a roar, but with a whimper.

And perhaps it is time for our star to go out as well?

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