Category Archives: The Religion of Peace

Businesses, Brotherhoods and Babies

It is snowing outside.  We’ll get three to six inches today if the liars at Weather Central (All Disaster, All the Time) can be believed.  So, instead of going over to the gym to get ready for the beach this summer, I am sitting here in The House With No Heat, myself rapped in buffalo skins reading stuff on the internet and occasionally saying a prayer for people who have neither homes nor buffaloes to robe them.

I’ve done what I usually do when bound up inside by the weather.  I have read.

So far this morning I’ve read that our goofermint, as someone I know refers to it, wants the new president of Egypt to say he was a jerk a couple of years ago when he told folks over there to raise their children to hate everyone not them.  So far, it looks as if no one over there in sand castle land is listening.  But, when they do hear the whispers, perhaps Mousi (no relation to our kinder, gentler Mickey) will grunt something or other.  The guy deserves at least a dope slap for what he said.  But, what  can you expect from someone who hangs around with a bunch of cruds who think strapping a dozen or so pounds of dynamite on a kid and sending them into a crowd of weekend shoppers is the Muslim Brotherhood equivalent of Little League?  Over here the Big Brothers try to teach a kid to be a good person.  Over there, you’re a kid and you get one of Mousi’s friends for a big brother, you’re sure to be taught how to be one of two things, a murderer or a “martyr”  (which is the same thing for those whackos); probably both.

Then, I happened on an article about my favorite women’s organization, Planned Parenthood.  Now the first time I heard the name, which was a long time ago I have to confess that I thought it was some kind of place, maybe like Triple A, where they give you helpful travel trips, make reservations and stuff,  sell you plastic water bottles.  You know, stuff you never thought you needed, but can’t live without now that you know it is there, and cheap.  I figured you walked into a Planned Parenthood store and got deals on bassinets, formula, diapers, stuff like that; and there were these nice ladies with shawls on and wire rimmed glasses sitting around knitting booties and little blankies ( a different kind of B&B) the place painted in shades of pink and blue.

“Divil a bit of it!” my Grand-Mother Kate Fanning Gallaher might say, her lips curling and a curse against them forming.  I found out it was another kind of place.  Scary, really.  Well, you know.  It’s the last place someone wants to be when planning their parenthood.  Planning for Un-parenthood?  That’s a horse of a different species.  They got, umm, slicers, dicers, choppers, hoovers, pills and potions and are ready for you 24/7, with, I bet Early Bird specials:  In by eight, out by ten anytime before little Janey or Junior’s  ten weeks along.  Or, something like that.  Maybe, if they get your e-mail, they send you coupons and 2 for 1 specials, and you can like ’em on Facebook.  It’s good marketing, you know.  And, if you don’t know yet, Planned Parenthood is a business, just like some of those big deal sausage factories, like Jones and those others.

And this smoothly segues into the second article I glanced at this morning, the one that explains in sordid detail just how Planned Parenthood is a business, perhaps the bloodiest business this side of an abbatoir (a fancy French word for a slaughterhouse).  Only they deal in killing kids, not cows.  Last year they set a record, the article says, and manage to kill more than 300,000 little human beings, none of whom asked for it.  In a really cool concatenation of events and circumstance those of you who read the article (have strong drink at hand…or anti-nausea meds) will learn that that number matches almost perfectly the dollar figure for their daily profit.  And, mirabile dictu, both numbers are all time universe wide records!  Imagine, most babies killed in a year and most money made per day for a year, and they occurred together!  There’s a pair that’ll beat a full house anytime.

But, it gets better, because 45% of this loot comes from you and me, the American taxpayer.  Yep, we gave the country’s busiest and biggest house of death about a million samoleans a day between June, 2010 and June 2012.

After I had finished in the bathroom and washed out my mouth, I came back here and found something different to read, a short essay on something called The Catholic Education Resource Network by a fellow named Anthony Esolen.  The essay has a very simple title.  Its title is “The Child”.

Now, in all fairness I have to say that I have been in the same room as has Anthony Esolen at least once.  I know that because I heard someone say his name and , at the same time, point to him.  But I have never met him.  I would like to, and the first thing I would do is ask for his autograph.  I know that this frosts a lot of peoples’ pumpkins out there, but the guy is a good Catholic, and a good teacher, to boot.  And what he writes and what he says, and, I have no doubt, what he teaches about is thoroughly Catholic from the first word to the last.  So, if you are the kind of person whose goat is got by the things Catholics say and believe you may want to save yourself some agida, and maybe a trip to the ER, and not read the article.

Because, you see, Dr. Esolen’s article starts off in an entirely Catholic way, an authentically Christian way.  It starts off in the kind of way which I know grates on folks who think Planned Parenthood, even if it is a lousy business, is a good thing; the way sewers, I suppose, are a good thing…only a child isn’t supposed to be in a sewer.  It starts in the kind of way which I know ticks off people who think that Mousi and his fellow Muslim brotherhood members, and every other person who wants kids to grow up hating, are just teaching kids the facts of life, and that’s a good thing…like suicide bombers are good things.  Only a child has a life before him.

Here are the first couple of sentences  from Dr. Esolen’s article,  “Everywhere outside of Christianity, wrote Hans Urs von Balthasar, the child is automatically the first to be sacrificed. Only for Christians is the adult the imperfect child. Everywhere else the child is the imperfect adult, and falls subject to our lust for domination.”

I Will Make You Ready

I Will Make You Ready

Read it.  And, maybe shed a tear for children all over the world, children who are  sacrificed every day to Moloch, perhaps more alive today than ever and closer to us than we think.  Which way shall we go?

Going My Way?

Julia In Dublin

And after you read it come back here and listen to the music below.  I used to play it sometimes and remember a little poem set to the opening theme that I sang to my daughter when she was a child:

When at night I go to sleep,
fourteen Angels watch over me.
Two my head are guarding,
two my feet are guiding,
two are on my right hand,
two are on my left hand,
two who warmly cover my head
and two who will guide me toward Heaven.

Much better, so, don’t you think than businesses and brotherhoods?

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Do Ya Think?

Yesterday I read a short article in a British paper: The Telegraph.  The article was a report on a study conducted on the life, and the prospects for life, of Christianity in the Middle East.  Those few of you still familiar with the word, Christianity, comfortable in its presence, inclined to use it favorably and with some affection and loving attachment will know what I have reference to.  For the growing majority of people whose understanding of and connection with the word and its meaning is arguably much less than their knowledge of the leading actors in The Walking Dead or the line on next week’s NFL games let me try to place it for you; to contextualize it.

Tomorrow is Christmas Day.  You will immediately see there is a similarity between the words Christianity and Christmas.  I will not belabor the thing, but simply point out that the first syllable is, itself, a word: Christ.  And the word signifies a man.  Tomorrow is, despite the amazing amount of evidence to the contrary, the celebration of the birthday of that man, the annual observance of that event by the dwindling few who happen to believe in the man and the stories told about him; what he said and did.  Simply put that is the astounding fact that Christ is at one and the same time God incarnate and the savior of the World and a man “born in time, born of a virgin.”  No, I mean it, really.  (Actually His name is Jesus, and Christ is, more or less, a title.)  I happily count myself among the remnant who think this way about Jesus Christ; that He is truly God and truly Man.  And, that is just the beginning of the amazing facts about Him.  But, let us not get ourselves involved in that.

For those who know it is not necessary to do so; for the rest, they will be made aware sooner of later, here or there.

The prognosis is not good.  That is, the prognosis for Christianity, that system of beliefs and practice, that way of living that grew from the testimony of some few people who knew and lived with this man Jesus about what he did and said so many years ago in Palestine, in the Middle East.  It is dying, they say in The Telegraph; dying in the place where it was born and where it has lived longest.  The prognosis for the “rest” I have reference to above; that they will be made aware of certain “amazing facts” at some time is certain: they will.

The study reported on in The Telegraph did provide a cause for the imminent demise of Christianity in its homeland, may it rest in peace.  Militant Islam (MI) is infecting Christianity in the Middle East, and the disease, so says the article, is likely to cause its quick death.  “Sic transit gloria coeli et terra” to corrupt a phrase.

How is this being accomplished, and how, better yet, is it so being done right under the eagle eyes of our many media snoops?  Does no one have any idea except some old rag in Blighty? And, finally, why have not those in powerful places and positions, guardians of freedoms, protectors of widows and orphans, weak and underprivileged the world over raised even an eyebrow at this rather depressing (to say the least) bit of news?  Well, I have my ideas about who might have gathered a rumor here and there, and why they haven’t whispered a word, but then, I am a suspicious type.  I’ll leave it to more rational folks to explain why the imminent death of Christianity in the land of its birth means simply nothing here in the West which owes simply everything to it.

What interests me, just as much, is this little fact; call it a sidebar.  It, too, will never appear anywhere soon.  Maybe it is simply too boring?  That fact is this: 150,000 Christians a year are killed for being Christians.  What, some editor might reasonably ponder is newsworthy about that, or a burnt village in Africa when compared to Our Dear Leader bodysurfing in Hawaii?  Many, many more are imprisoned without trial, little girls raped, women raped, churches blown up or burned to the ground, homes burned, villages burned, neighborhoods attacked by armed fanatics and , well, sad to say, more schoolchildren, murdered in Muslim countries simply because they are Christian than are murdered by our own madmen.  Again, one wonders about the silence, the the lack of interest.

Tertullian was an early Christian Father, a theologian whose work helped form what was becoming Christianity.  He was from Carthage, part of the Middle Eastern world where Christianity is now dying of that disease called MI, also known to be fatal to Ambassadors and people in tall buildings in places like New York City.  Among other things he is famous for having said is this, “The blood of martyrs is the seed of the church.”  Now that might scare a good atheist or modern day secularist in a corner office somewhere.

And now, before I leave you to turn on your Santa Claus lights, your reindeer with their red noses, your Frosty the Snowmen in their hats, to fill your living rooms with wrapping paper and your bellies with rich foods and rare vintages, and to taste deeply all of the other signs of our winter holiday, may I ask you to wonder this.  Will there be more to mourn over the death of the last winged cardinal at your feeder or the death of the last Christian once from some place west of the Indus and east of Eden?  I do not think so, because you will not know.  Few are those in any position to let you know who hazard saying a word about it.  Fewer still are those who think anything should be done.  Many, I suspect rather hope that nothing will be done.  Ever.

We are being flooded with the blood and the bodies of the dying victims of militant Islam as the story in The Telegraph has it.  The dead are the seed.  The raped and beaten and dispossessed are the soil, the field and the planting where will grow anew the the fruit of their sacrifice.  It has suddenly occurred to me that “they” are afraid of what this way comes when , some day, the once and future Christianity appears.  I can think of no other reason for such a black curtain over this news, a holocaust across a third of the world.  As Special Agent Gibbs often says, “Do ya think?”

Merry Christmas!

Moral Statements, Immoral Acts

In Israel today, that small country, millions face terror on a daily basis.  9,000 rockets have been launched into the country in the past few years, 9,000.  They were launched by terrorists supported by a government run by a terrorist organization.  Only the people of Israel can speak with any sense of truth about this government of terrorists which hides its weapons among defenseless civilians and then exploits the deaths they cause among them from this practice.  Israel’s Prime Minister did so recently as rockets rained down from within Gaza, sometimes from as little as 15 seconds away.  He has said that there is no moral equivalence between Israel and the terrorists in Gaza.  Some people believe he has no authority, no moral authority to say that.  They are among those who advocate that palestine, and its terrorist government be admitted to the UN.  Soon, I suppose there will be a terrorist caucus there.

I wonder how they can believe it; especially in the face of evidence such as the many statements of Hamas leaders that the obliteration of Israel and the death of all Jews is the most important goal of their movement.

Many, many years ago when the world was not as weary (nor was I) as it seems to be now, when right may still have been right and wrong was still considered wrong, I was young, too, and I did something wrong. I said things that were wrong and hurtful.  That I did not know what I said is not an excuse.  Here is what happened.

When I was a youngster growing up in New York City in the late 1940’s and 50’s we little urchins had a chant that went like this, “Guns for the Arabs!  Sneakers for the Jews!”   I don’t know where I learned it, or from whom.  It simply started, and it grew.  We used to run through the little park near the Jerome Reservoir, in a Jewish neighborhood not far from where we lived, chanting that little verse while the old men and women were sitting quietly on the benches watching their grandchildren and remembering horror.

I never really knew what it meant, what it referred to, a fight for life after so much death, the kind of fight my own people had been involved in for hundreds of years (I’m Irish, in case…) No one said anything to us at all.  Old Jews!  We were too fast, the grandchildren too young.

Years later, when I was married, my brand new wife and I became tenants in a small apartment in a small house owned by Rose and Yussel Hochstein.

Immigrants.  Eastern European Jews.

He was a kosher butcher who worked long hours every day except Shabbos. She kept a kosher home, though she would sneak downstairs from time to time to enjoy some bacon and eggs with Sheila, my first wife, may she rest in peace. Rosie, which she preferred, had walked across Europe at the age of four with her grandfather, from Russia to Amsterdam, in the 1930’s. There they met her uncle who took them to America and safety. Yussel, a Polish boy, was not so lucky as that. He and his younger brother spent the war, the second such war fought to end all wars, hiding near Warsaw in a barn owned by a Christian (Catholic) family.

One day, for whatever reason, some neighbors of the family ratted them out to the Germans. A couple of dozen men in big cars came looking for them. They ran away into the fields and woods, two little boys, while the Germans took  turns using the two running boys as target practice. His brother escaped, but Yussel lost the top of an ear to a close call. I guess that could be called an escape.  He came to the United States after the war with his brother and was set up in business by a relative living over here.

A marriage was arranged between Rosie and Yussel.  In quick succession they had three boys.  Rosie had always wanted a girl.  I remember her taking possession of our daughter, our first child, when Sheila brought her home from the hospital.  “Let me see my baby!  Let me hold my little girl!” she exclaimed.  We became part of the family during the time we were there.

Rosie was mother to us all.  Yussel was, well, quiet.  She was the one who told us about Yussel’s “escape”, mentioning that aside from his brother and himself no one of his family in Poland had survived.

Rosie showed it to us, showed us Yussel’s shot ear, during one Seder at her home while we were her tenants. Yussel quietly endured the revelation.  I looked at the deformed ear and shuddered.  He was eight when it happened.  His little brother was six.  That was about the age of the little children in the park I had run through.  I remembered my little childhood chant which took place often not two city blocks from the room where we sat celebrating an ancient occurrence when a whole people had been set free; when , after four hundred years, death fell on Egypt from above.

You know the story, don’t you, how death fell like a rocket, even on the cattle.

No rockets fell while we talked that night, no demagogues called for the obliteration of the country and its people, no nations hurried new supplies of weapons to begin again the years long rain of death as they do now.  I remembered my own words from years before, and I remember them now.  I hear them as I said them, and I read them in the reports of speeches before the UN, and across the world by presidents of countries and people who call themselves holy men and religious leaders.

They love death.  I know they do. They say so themselves.  I am as certain of this as I am that I breathe. There are millions who live that chant of mine and my friends every day, and know what it means. They are not children at all, though they will not scruple to use children, their own if necessary, to carry guns, to hurl bombs, to blow themselves up, too, in order to kill Jews, anywhere, everywhere. There is, I think, no moral equivalence between that and what Israel does to preserve itself.

Can Anyone Be That Stupid??? You Want The Truth?

People all over this land are interested in wondering about one thing.  Who let the dogs out?  The dogs in this little piece about getting to the bottom of things are the filthy B***ards who stormed, and are still storming, the embassies and consulates of these Untied States of America in almost every place we have one beginning on September 11, 2012,  yet another day that will Live in Infamy…for an entirely different reason.

How did it happen that we were caught with our pants down?  Hell not only down, but completely off.  How did it happen that no one knew a damn thing about what was coming?  How did it happen that in Libya, a place where we played such a big part in freeing people from a dictator, our little piece of Amurriker was attacked…not demonstrated in front of…but attacked by a well trained and coordinated group, and we knew nothing about it?

You will remember, children, that in order for peace to prevail among nations, they have been in the habit of sending representatives one to another, to live in each other’s countries and to help in the conduct of the business of life in a dignified and peaceful fashion.  The persons so sent and the places where they live and work are considered to be sovereign and are placed under the protection of the hosting nation so guarantees of safety and sovereignty may be assured.  or, something like that.

OK?  OK, then.

So, what happened just a few days ago?  Well, if one believes the current fabulous tale being spun out of the our Capitol and throughout this land of mine and yours by the minions of truth, justice and the American Way, what happened was that some small time film maker made a film out in La-La Land which was never really completed, and never shown in a theater, and never released directly to DVD and never appeared anywhere except in a terribly disjointed 18 minutes long  “trailer” on You Tube, that well known location for blockbuster film premiers and whacko attempts at God-Only-Knows-What-But-It-Certainly-Ain’t-Cinema.

Some enterprising artiste dubbed the thing in Arabic, a language spoken by a goodly percentage of the world’s murderers, and things hit the fan. So, it’s really all our fault.  Time for the sad music and another apology.  And, it all happened too quickly and too quietly for anyone to know about before hand, or believe you me steps would have been taken.  We have promised to do so in the past, haven’t we?  How many times have we promised to take steps?  Anyone?  Anyone?  Bueller?

Well it is starting to become clear that this is not, erm, the truth.  This happens to the best of my ability to figure out, about a month or so ago.  You will read in this article by a reporter named  Caroline Glick that originally appeared in an AUSTRALIAN newspaper that some Mooselimb TV station in Egypt runs the film a whole month ago.   The “film” itself is finished a whole year ago.  Nobody really does a thing for w while.  Are they waiting?   These guys who run the thing are Salami Mooselimbs, or something like that, intellectually and doctrinally the rough equivalent of the snake handlers down in West Virginny.  But, by God, they know blasphemy when they see it, and know what to do.  I am sure you can imagine the Rev. Joe-Jim Bob Haystacks from East Mudgulch organizing an attack on, oh, say the Albanian Embassy here because some Albanian said something ugly about JEEEZUZ?

Yeah, neither can I.  Yet, that’s what happened, even after we apologized for it and said, “Please don’t hate us.”  Well, that’s what they want us to believe happened.

This thing appeared a MONTH ago?  Really? Yep, a month.  And to top it all off,  we knew something dangerous was this way coming.  We had been warned, we had been told, we’d heard it staid

Then we had time to get ready, right?  So you’d think.  Instead we went out for lunch and played a little golf, the weather being good for that.

AN IMAGINARY CONVERSATION INSERTED AS RELIEF FROM THIS TEDIOUS INTERNATIONAL TERRORIST STUFF

“Hello, Madame Secretary.  This is Ambassador Stevens.”

“Why yes, Ambassador.  I was just talking with the President and Secretary of Defense about you.  September 11 is coming up and…”

“Funny thing, that’s why I placed this call.  I’m in Geneva now, and I just got word from Under Secretary Blivot’s team at State that the Freedom Fighters in Benghazi are planning an attack on the Consulate down there.”

“Of course they are, Chris.  You don’t mind me calling you Chris, do you?  We heard all about it yesterday.  The place is going to explode.  Well, what can you expect?”

“Oh, cool.  I thought I’d get a couple of guys together and fly down to get killed, take one for the team, so to speak.  You could blame it all on that idiot out in California, apologize once again…we missed last month’s apology to Islam…and make a lot of points with the voters for our irenic response to irrational provocations from whacko film makers in California, a place we stole from the Mexicans.”

“That’s great, Chris.  Barry was just wondering if you wouldn’t mind doing something like that.  We’ve got the press all primed for that story.  That idiot Romney will do something Republican about swift (I hate that damn word.) response and forceful measures, and we can take the high road.  It should give us a really good poll bounce.”

“I’m happy to. Hillary. Say,you don’t mind me calling you Hillary, do you?”

“Nah, go ahead.  You won’t have long to do it.”

“Good.  Then this is goodbye.  Have fun.  Oh, I’ve already voted.”

“Great.  See if you can get the guys who are going to die with you to stuff a few in there for us “White Hats”, ha ha, before they get blown up, willya.”

BACK TO TEDIUM, SERIOUSLY

Now, that conversation never took place, of course.  But it certainly seems no other conversation ever took place either; like a short one saying, “Get the hell out of town, quick.”  Or, like, “Duck, because in about a minute we are gonna bomb the hell out of everything around you.”  And, that can only be due to the fact that the phone lines were down and all communication was cut off between the US and its embassies.  Or, maybe it is the fault of Congress and the Republicans who have refused to raise the debt limit and let Uncle Sugar pay his bills and keep the phone working.  Who knows.  It can’t be because they are all criminally stupid.  Can it?

As evidence that sanity reigns in Washington and throughout the government I offer the words of our Ambassador to the United nations…a place which wouldn’t exist without you and me pick up most of the bills… who is on record telling one of the suits on something called “This Week” last week that,..well, you go read it for yourself.  I can’t type it, because my attorney tells me that if I do I might become a part of a conspiracy to spread stupidity across the country, and during the past four years we have become more than sufficiently stupid to get us all killed.

The One Percenters

(or)  The Recent Bold Deeds of The Most Busy and Industrious Band of True Believers and Followers of the Religion Of Peace

Not too long ago someone sought to prove a point, that being that most followers of Islam are nice folks who just want to get along, that not every Muslim was an Islamist … a PC word used now in lieu of the word Terrorist, which is fast becoming a word not to be used in polite society…..  After all one cannot call a billion people terrorists.  I mean some of them are crazy, some of them dribbling idiots, some kings, some murderous dictators, some rabid preachers and even more rabid politicians, some oil billionaires, and someone needs to stay home and cook.

They mentioned the results of a years long poll, worldwide in scope, by the Gallup folks and sponsored by a bunch of pro-Muslim organizations here in the Untied States…if fast fading memory serves.  The poll concluded that only 1% of Muslims were interested in converting the world by any means, fair or foul, into a seamless garment of burka clad women and bearded men with four wives apiece and 70 virgins waiting them in paradise.

This conclusion was reached, one may speculate, from analysis of data gathered from the usual statistically accurate survey of 1,00o some odd folks…perhaps in every country where there are one thousand Muslims, but who knows.

Only 1%?

It is  only too easy to adopt the term One Percenters from the Occupy Everything crowd of anarchists and use it to denote this extremely busy band of murderers, bombers, arsonists, rapists, enslavers, “occupiers”, whiners, thugs and criminals who do not worship any god I can recognize…and the governments and vast numbers of angry maniacs who support them anywhere one or two of them are gathered, it seems, in their prophet’s name, peace be upon him.

You doubt??

Read on then, here.

This thing comes out every month.  One would think, from the way our Main Stream media is addicted to feeding its slobbering audience with stories of gore and guts, that they would jump at the chance to cover things like these assorted acts of horror, mayhem, intimidation and crime all committed by a mere, but extremely busy, one percent of the worshipers of something or other.  But, no.  The fact is they hate Christianity more.  And they hate anyone who is a believing Christian.  Did you ever wonder why?

The battle is not between Islam and the rest of the world.

The battle is the same one it has always been; the one between Good and Evil.

Enough Monkeys….etc…

Even the late Mr. Hitchens and Slate are capable of producing something worth the effort it takes to read it (though I could do without seeing what else appears on the page).  As I read on, I couldn’t help drawing the obvious lines between North Korea and National Socialist Germany.  What really began to alarm me though as I concluded the piece was one word, Iran.  I became aware that I could not escape the frightening similarities between those two mental diseases, the one in the East and it’s earlier sibling in Europe and the Religion of Peace.  And this merely from reading an article written by a dead atheist and appearing in a progressive publication.  Will wonders never cease…?  I pray this is one that comes to an early end.  Funny, I was about to write “early and natural end”.  Then, I thought, no such a thing isn’t natural.  Despite all of the evidence, the mounting evidence, to the contrary, it was NOT the way we were meant to be.

Perhaps it’s simply sleeplessness that make my mind build these connections; a kind of waking nightmare.

Rest in peace.