Twas the night before Christmas and out on the street, all the Christians were hiding to escape from the HEAT!
And if the NDAA and the Southern Poverty Law Center have anything to say about it, the forecast for 2014 is HEAT, HEAT and more HEAT! I suppose this story could have a happy ending…you know, all the people who showed up to buy chicken sandwiches from Dan Cathy and duck calls from Phil Robertson could show up at the voting booth next year…
On the other hand, how stupid must a public be to buy the same tainted meat from the same corrupt butcher year after year? Perhaps it’s less about stupidity and more about conformity. “I used to be a house divided. I knew the work I wanted to do wouldn’t become popular in the marketplace. I was torn in half. I knew how to please the powers-that-be. But then it occurred to me: what would happen if I catered to the dominant culture and still failed to prosper? That would be the ultimate irony. If I went my own way, to the hilt, and did the work I wanted to do, I would have freedom, and the joy of looking at what I had produced. I wouldn’t go to sleep every night wondering what the hell I was doing. I would know.” ~ a painter friend
Twas the night before Christmas and seldom is heard, an original thought from a thinning herd.
So I have no crystal ball to show me what the New Year will bring. But knowing that the Social- Engineering Elves in Washington are way busier than Santa’s under-employed, under-staffed, and TSA stifled elves and reindeer are…I’m not encouraged.
You know, the world was just as dark as this before he came to us the first time…and out of the din of despair when all seemed lost, a courageous thought was born from the very mind of God himself…What…
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!
~ Rudyard Kipling
Happy Christmas to all, and to ALL a Good Night!