America the Great, America the Beautiful, America the Cornucopia of Welfare

America the Great, America the Beautiful, America the Cornucopia of Welfare


1.government by the people; a form of government in which the supreme power is vested in the people and exercised directly by them or by their elected agents under a free electoral system.
2.a state having such a form of government: The United States and Canada are democracies.
3.a state of society characterized by formal equality of rights and privileges.
4.political or social equality; democratic spirit.
5.the common people of a community as distinguished from any privileged class; the common people with respect to their political power.

A democracy is a from of government where mob rule becomes the law of the land.

Mob Rule:

control or government by a gang, often of violent criminals; also called ochlocracy

Our nation has become a democracy of the worst kind. "Water will find it's own level" is a statement a high school physics teacher used, often, to describe various functions of fluids. I believe that same statement is equally accurate in describing myself and my 'countrymen'.

Effects of a democracy/ochlocracy/mob rule government:
Government led by, voted for and managed by the lowest common denominator of the populace
Property rights are negated as a communal attitude takes over the populace as the working class shrinks in number and is forced to increase production
Law will be determined by the masses. Deliberation will be set aside as the masses are whipped into frenzies that permits the governing by impulse, passion, prejudice and no regard for consequences of actions without restraints

Illegal Immigration is currently a very hot subject. There are many different standpoints, but for the sake of this argument we will use the simple argument of "they are here illegally" versus the argument of "They came looking for the better life your ancestors came her for"

We have many illegal 'immigrants' (aliens) within our borders. Some people estimate millions. These same illegals are siphoning off the tax dollars of the American people (more on this statement, later). They are committing crimes, both high and low profile. Many are criminals in their Latin America home country, either run out by a citizenry tired of them, or they are here looking for fresh flocks of lambs. And there are also those that come to our land, just to have their offspring as legal citizens by being born here. We offer to these same people free medical at a higher quality than is available in their home, and yet our own unemployed or underemployed are still billed for the services of the hospital. These parents now have a legal reason to be on our soil, their child is a citizen of this nation and is therefore covered by our rights. These very same persons who decided to break the law in order to become covered and protected by those same laws.

Not all of these immigrants are criminals. Many are contributing to our society doing the work that many Americans consider too low. (more on this, later, as well) When your ancestors arrived, they did not have all to go through the same steps and processes in place, today. Many landed by boat at Ellis Island, singed a few forms and went to their new homes where there was family to help them get started. Many of these immigrants don't have family to go to, or if they do, there is no easy way to communicate with them, because so many of those are illegal, as well. And of course they would want to have their children here, and educated here and given the opportunity to excel and grow and succeed. These parents are wanting to provide a better life for these children than is possible in their homeland.

Do these two arguments sound about right? Do you see or hear any similarity with previous changes to our social laws? Perhaps a reminder, Proclamation Emancipation? Following Lincoln's freeing of the slaves, many of these same arguments were repeated. "They are unclean." "They are uneducated." "They are lawless barbaric heathens" "They have no skills or ability to care for themselves." The arguments may sound similar, but I believe the current situation is not so much about race as it is money. I will admit, I do not want the illegals living in the same apartment complex as I do. I say this NOT because I have a racial prejudice, but I will admit to having a LEGAL prejudice.

"Legal Prejudice? Prejudice of any kind is not legal. It is counter to the very foundation of this nation."

Thank you for tripping the trap. There are many grounds for both law based prejudices and legal prejudices. I prefer Ford over Chevy. That is a prejudice. I prefer steak houses rather than burrito stands for dinner (although I do enjoy a good burrito). But more importantly I am prejudiced to in wanting to live in a safe, sane and sound environment. In metropolitan areas the unemployed/unemployable/criminal element of the 'illegal sub-culture' tend to gather together, congregating, setting up a turf and implementing many illegal methods of personal income. Excuse me for being prejudiced against persons in this country illegally. My ancestors came through the front door and that door was easier to get through, then. This is now. The rules of the game have changed. They (the illegals) often times know more about U.S immigration laws than our basic citizenry.

A recent discussion with an in-law turned a bit heated on this very subject. I was asked how I, as a formerly convicted felon, cannot sympathize with these people breaking the law to make a better life for themselves. My reply was short. "I have no sympathy for them because I WAS convicted, served my time, and paid for my crime. They do not." As the argument continued, based on the preface of being good Christians it is our duty and responsibility to take care of these less able or less fortunate. Being citizens and successful in our chosen jobs and careers we have a moral obligation to help those less priveleged. Less priviledged? OK. Let's see you help these less privileged. Why don't you drive around in your brand new car, and the first illegal family you find, you sign that car over to them? It's yours. You paid for it. Help them with this considerable donation of assistance. Oh, and don't be surprised when they ask for gas money, too. Argument over.

This is just an example of what our nation has become. Those that have want to keep what they have. Those that don't have covet the things the others have. Those of us in the middle? We end up paying for it all. The "Have's" usually have better roads, more efficient and effective police forces. The "Have Not's" are living in slums or criminal infested housing. Both the higher security for the wealthy and the assistance to the less wealthy are paid for with the sweat and work and blood and near tireless resolve of the middle.

"The squeaky wheel gets the grease." Our politicians have become tools of the lobbyists and the special interest groups. Many of the special interest groups are ran by well meaning persons wanting to help others. Or they start out that way. And somewhere along the way their efforts get corrupted and suddenly they realize they are a part of the very machine they were fighting against. The non-speaking majority of this nation needs a rallying point. A person of character they can stand behind. One that (at least says) he/she understands our situation and wants to help US. I have yet to hear of one that has a snowball's chance in Hades. Good decent people do not make good decent politicians. The current form of politician in this country is a vile and malicious creature who is easily swayed by personal gain and public opinion. Yes i am over generalizing, but if the coat is blue, say it is blue, not some other name to describe it as almost blue. The moral fiber of this nation is reflected in our leadership. Between the 'socialistic liberals', the 'theopublicans', the 'dimocrits' and various other wanna-bees there is no leadership. Our nation will always stay divided, swayed and controlled by those swaying and controlling the representatives we put in office. Most Americans would not know a leader with a spine, an ability to understand the Constitution and the Bill of Rights, and a moral compass that points to a target of America the Great, version 2.0.

Instead of this mythical figure of a real leader, we have the likes of Giuliani, Hillary, Obama, Bush version 2.0, and Thompson. Giuliani is riding the 9/11 bandwagon of fame to try to get into the oval office. Hillary believes that the women of her villages will elect her and that she can buy enough other votes with her efforts to socialize health care and other efforts to purchase freedom away from Americans. Obama is there on the Black Power scapegoat. Bush is on his way out as both a success and a failure. And Thompson? What can we say about Fred? He wants to be Reagan, but Reagan did something Fred does not seem able to do. Make a decision. Take a stand on a platform and ride that stand all the way through. Reagan did it. He told America when he was running for President what his beliefs were and how he wanted to handle the crisis the then president had to handle. And we had pretty much the same Reagan leave office, still supporting and standing to most of the beliefs that got him elected. May Mr. Reagan rest in peace and be favored by those that write history.

And now we are back to the original purpose of this essay. The Illegal Immigrant Issue is what I started off with, and I will end with it. None of the above listed politicians still running for office are valid runners. Not one of them has given an answer to the illegal immigrant issue that satisfies the needs for security in this nation, yet still provides those that wish a legal entrance an easy and honorable way in. Is this the issue of the next term or is the war in iraq going to be the deciding factor? Will we open our gates and doors to anyone able to walk or swim a river? Or will we find a reasonable solution? How would you answer these issues if you were the one to run? Granted not all facets of these issues has been covered here, but think on it. If these were the full and complete details how would you 'fix' them?



Delayed Post

Have not written much, lately. Been a bit swamped with work and other not so much fun stuff.

I WILL be posting over the holiday weekend, though. We are expecting the first snow of the year this weekend.

Everyone be thankful for what you have. Show your love to those you love.



and I thought I was just pissed

You Are 83% Angry

You are a very angry person - and you might not realize it.
While you may think that you're bitter, depressed, or bad tempered...
What you're really feeling is anger.
While you may not need anger management, you may need some therapy!

Inside I'm a dutchman

Inside I'm a dutchman...it must have been those 'unsavory' options in the quiz.

Your Inner European is Dutch!
Open minded and tolerant.You're up for just about anything.

The greatest gifts of all

A wizened older gent I met at a flea market loved to bicker. He once told me the only reason he did the flea market booth was just so he could argue and haggle with people. Everything he had at his booth he had added $5.00 to the sticker price. Some people would just come up, pick up an item pay the listed price and leave, with barely a word spoken. Others would walk away in disgust at the price he had labeled. He believed the only beings that were worth anything were those that would haggle with him. The old man had an understanding of people. Haggle too much or too long and the value of an item is not good as it over rates the item. Haggle too little and he under-rated the value of an item. But the whole process was about identifying a common value for an item. Many was the person that argued for several minutes, investing their TIME and their THOUGHT into the purchase. Both time and thought are more important than any trinket he had on his table. And that is what he valued most of haggling, the time people shared with him. This is what made the exchange equitable to him. Another person's time and their thought.

After you finish reading about the education of Colonel Crockett please be sure to spend some of your two most precious commodities for good cause. Write a politician a letter, tell them what you think on a piece of legislation, be sure is it hand written and clearly signed for the most attention. Your thoughts and opinions are important.

Then hold the hand of a friend or a loved one, look them in the eye and share a moment with them. For time is something we all have an unknown and finite amount of. Give that person your time.

When Crockett met Bunce

I do so wish I could get ALL of our government officials to read this. I know there are SOME government agencies DESIGNED to spend our money (the DOD comes to mind), and there are other agencies meant to collect our money (IRS), the rest of the government should be about protecting our money, our properties, our lives and ourselves.

My grandma used to tell me that giving is best when it comes from the heart, and it means more if your gift to another comes from a little of your pain. At the time she was only teaching me it is better to spend my time and energies MAKING her a birthday gift than to just go out and BUY her something. The pain is the true price a gift has and it is different for each of us. The people in power (the one's WE as a nation PUT there) have no value for our money or for the pain it cost us to earn it. They have no understanding of the value we put to our sweat and to our energies. This is proven by the collected wealth of the nation they give away to those among us and beside us who either do not understand the pain it is they take from us or the depreciation their lifestyle of a free ride has upon the worth of our pain.


WTF?, Over.

A National Blackout ?

Oh, the snarks I could make on this one! But, I will be the bigger man (ok, so I am fat, that just makes it easier to be bigger!), here, and not sharp shoot anyone with the obvious comments.

But please do read this news story.



Memories and Changes

I was reading a favorite blog, this evening, when I was reminded of autumn while in high school. back in the early '80's we lived near a small town in rural south western Ohio. About 40 miles upriver from Cincinnati and about 10 miles north of the river. It was a good place to grow up. I have often times, since, lamented it was a good place to be from.

We lived on roughly an acre in a ranch style house with a full basement. The large two + car garage sat atop the cistern. Rain water was collected from the roof. With no city sewage or water, summers could be a bit of a challenge.

I recall how, of an autumn, we would take the trailer over to a neighbors just so my dad and the neighbor could watch my brother and I muck out the sheep barn. All that 'sheep dit' would go into the compost pile. I would spend weekends of the entire month of September turning and mixing those trailer loads into that huge compost pile. Once I was 'big enough' my father had me using the troy built tiller to help mix the dit into the compost. In Mid-October the last of the harvest of our 1/4 acre garden would be collected. Heavy black plastic was run out to cover the garden area for winter, after tilling everything under. An additional 'strip' was tilled across the uphill edge of the garden so that water rolling from the yard would be caught and let to slowly seep under the black plastic. Snow rarely stayed on that plastic.

Come the first warm (45 degrees F) weekend day in Late February or early March, we would be out there with the pitchforks and wheel barrows to spread that compost pile onto the garden. Then we would water it down. Just a gentle watering to wet that rotten mix of steaming growth goodness. And again we would cover with that same black plastic. The next warm weekend, I was out there with the tiller mixing all of that into the ground. As I tilled, my siblings were spreading more compost behind me. In one day I would make four or five passes across the whole garden.

It is odd, how I hated those days, but now I long for them. I wish for the smells of the kitchen as my mom would be canning. My hands ache now, like they used to from stringing beans or winter peas or shucking corn.

Once particular weekend in October stands out. The weekend before we had finished everything except for the late squash patch. I remember Dad had planted a squash we had not had before. Kushaw, he called it. A hybrid mix between yellow crook necked squash and pumpkins. We brought one in, cleaned in out, saved the seeds for roasting and dried some for next season. While I was turining the crank and making home made vanilla ice cream, Dad was frying up some of that kushaw with butter (real butter) and brown sugar with a bit of cinnamon. It made a wonderful smell. He fried it up till it was stringy and gooey and served it hot over that ice cream. Damn, it was good. It was a good dessert to have after our dinner of spaghetti squash with spaghetti sauce. I guess we could have been no-carb/lo-carb before it was popular.

There are a lot of things I miss from back then. The lack of bills, like rent and insurance. The simpler living and the hard work. But I also like the things I have now. I have a good job in computers. I have earned the respect of peers in my chosen job field. I have accomplished a lot in the 20 years since I left that ranch house. and I long to go back to it.

I wonder if I can find a good job in Cincy?



Truth in advertising and packaging

A little something to read and think about. What have you put down the sink, today?




Hammer Control and Usage

OK, as promised, a posting on general blacksmithing. Please keep in mind these are techniques I used to learn and still use to 'warm up' when I have been away for a while. Your mileage will vary.

Let's start with the hammer. The hammer is the blacksmith's primary tool. The hammer is used to apply localized force to move and reshape the metal that is being worked.

Start with a short handled hammer, or 'choke up' on the handle. The handle should be smooth and just large enough around that your fingers close around it comfortably. Hold the hammer loosely. The thumb, web, forefinger and middle finger should be the tension providers, creating a circle of light pressure. This circle of pressure should be just tight enough to keep the hammer from sliding out of the hand.

With the hammer held in this fashion, stand comfortably at the anvil, with your feet about shoulder width apart. I find that I am comfortable standing slightly in front of the anvil, the tip of the horn pointing towards the inside of my left thigh. This puts my body at an angle to the face of the anvil of 30 to 60 degrees. This angle will change depending upon what I am working on. The face of the anvil should be at a level that the flat face of the hammer is flat on the anvil surface with your arm comfortably extended.

When using the hammer to strike,do not 'push' the hammer into the project. Instead coil the hammer hand up, rolling your arm up. The head of the hammer will be near the ear. Let the hammer gently fall, unrolling your arm in the process, the hammer will accelerate as the hand lets the hammer 'snap' into the project. Use the recoil from the blow to roll the arm up again. This technique will help you hammer all day long with less wear and tear on your shoulder and elbow.

To test the 'square' of your blows, the anvil height and how to 'adjust' for different thicknesses of material, take a couple of pieces of soft wood, such as pine to the anvil and hammer into them. Just a few strikes will do. Now look at the impression made by the hammer face. Is it 'tipped' as in one side is deeper into the wood than another. This will tell you if you are dropping or lifting your shoulder and if your wrist is straight.

Use these steps to help adjust how you hammer and enjoy.

P. Blacksmith



My Quotable Of The Day:

"I have accomplished so much, with so little, for so long, that I can now build anything, in no time, with nothing."

Sounds like a sever case of burn out.


The downfall of the US Socialist Seminal Injection

The end times are upon us! Run now! This post is filled with general ramblings and hatred of the 'Best Game in Town' known as our Federal Government. This posting also represents the second of our most important rights: The right to speak as I feel and believe. The first and most important right is being able to leave, of course. Rather than leave, I would rather contribute to help FIX it.


This wonderful link and related story is a bit incorrect. Of the 80 or so million babyboomers out there, I am willing to bet many are already drawing SSI checks. The many times forgotten disabled. But let's get back to the meat of the story.

Kathleen Casey-Kirschling has filed for EARLY RETIREMENT. This person has been chosen to represent the opening of Pandora's box that is Social Security retirement benefits. This is just the beginning. I predict that within 2 years, our government will try to 'fix' Social Security by stealing more of my money (and yours) to pay for their promises. It reminds me of the Pyramid/Network Marketing schemes I have seen over the years. It also reminds me of a statement I once heard my Civics/American History teacher in High School say: "It's like robbing Peter, to pay Paul, for the trick Mary turned". (He did not know I was listening.)

I have heard several times that Social Security is broken (I just look at my paycheck and can see that!). So far I have only heard ONE decent idea on how to get it fixed. That idea was to put the socialists in the senate, congress, white house and courts onto SSI. There is one MAJOR downfall with this idea. The only way these socialists know how to 'fix' anything is take more of my money and more of your money to throw at the problem. I am already seeing a nearly 40% tax burden on my checks. I earn a decent living for where I live. I have NO Children, so I get no tax credits. I do not own my own house. I do not have a four-year college degree. I see another person down the street, earning less than I, with nine (yes, 9) children, all under the age of 12. He drives a new car. Her minivan is only a year old. and he BRAGS about how little he pays in taxes and how the 'gummint' is paying so much for him.

This family collects money from my pay check in the way of additional socialist programs of taking from the middle to pay the short end. (They are commonly called Welfare, Food Stamps, Head Start and Public Education.) Instead, I would VOLUNTARILY buy this guy a 12 pack of prophylactics if it meant reducing taxes for all of us. Hell, I would even spring for the glow-in-the-dark Trojans!

And while I'm on the subject...

THAT will be saved for a future post.

Well, that should be about enough, for tonight. I'm at work and not able to concentrate on my writing. Let's see what else we can gripe about, tomorrow.


Sleep is over-rated

Evidently, I am on a mission. In the last week, I have gotten no more than 12 hours sleep. The demands on my time will be declining after this weekend.

With working grave yard shift, packing, moving myself, unpacking and setting up in the new apartment (barely started), assisting my roommate with packing and loading trailer, and his motorcycle, and ... and ...

Let's just say, I'm definitely running on auto-pilot at the moment.

Odd thing though, is I believe myself to lucid. Or is this what a state of delusion feels like?

I'll have more to say in a few days, folks. L0ts of notes about lots of things to discuss.

P. Blacksmith


"No Pain, No Gain"

"No pain, no Gain"
my Drill Seargent barked
as I forced my body to meet my will
I looked deeeeep
deep down within myself
but to find a door to which only I held the key
beyond this door was a well spring
feeding my pain and agony
supporting doubts of myself
beyond this was another door
to a small quiet room
in this room stood a table
upon which perched a chest
the key to the doors opened the chest
inside the chest was my insanity
I fed the pain and agony to the insanity
and the insanity grew
and my stamina grew
the pain meant less
the world less real
soon the chest was over flowing with insanity
the small quiet room saw chaos
I felt no more pain as the outer room fed more
and more I grew
Volunteers were wanted
mission critical, chances low
Train and train some more
fight cut and bleed, but feel no pain
the insanity ran higher each day
the pain was no longer mine to contain,
but mine to give
to share
to force unto others, deserving
or not, I cared not
the night came
the helicopter lifted
quietly we dozed, not knowing where to land
the alarms sounded in my ears
the ropes fell past the skids to the trees below
down we slid, barely in control
sliding to a stop, only to run away
and disappear into the night
radio contact and silence ordered
last chance, no recall
point of no return, orders given
marched through the night
armed and crazed black shadows
lethal nightmares come to visit earth
bringing tastes of hell to the land
past the farm we went, seeking cover and shadows
shadows within shadows we moved
checkpoint met, schedule behind
double time across the open field
and into town
find the house by the towel on the fence gate
from the alley entry
check the door, no lights no sounds
gentle winds enter the house,
master and mistress found
children drugged
quietly crept to the door
lights bright discovery made
burn in hell
mother takes a 9 and starts shooting
down we dove
grenades out the window
explosions and stunns
out the door we run, children under arms
parents keeping up
leader hit, down he went
man on field of battle is never left behind
fire starts, the house is a blaze
over shoulder the leader goes
shooting at those behind us, as we cover our trail.
down the alley, all hell is loose
this is our element, for we are insane
garage we enter, car is hot wired.
in the family goes
I am guarding door
as medic sees to lead
lead can't walk
noise is heard,
engine cut
door opens
side arm up
barrel of rifle fills my vision
empty hammer click as I pull the trigger,
looking into eyes of innocence
flash of light and red spray
a boy no more than 14, no longer
car is started
two in trunk, shooting as we leave town...
under the bridge, grenades bounce
leave town, heading south
ditch the car
carry leader on my back, as we go back north
20 klicks we march
through the woods, across the hills
catch the ride home
target collected and delivered
leader healing and fine
debriefing done
depression I fall as I wade
through the insanity
and looking for the pain
no pain for what I have done
innocent eyes haunting my every day
numb to the gaze of dead innocence
missing any humanity
sub human content
super human pain threshold
surreal words and thoughts
the insanity is winning
fights every day
battles within unit
broken arm and fight on
bleeding gash and fight on
searching for myself
the insanity has hidden me
crashing blow to my head
knife to my leg
stumble to the door for which only I hold the key
fumble and fall through the open door
into the full folds of my insanity
crawl across the floor
as I float within my own mind
through the chaos I crawl like a mountain climb
fighting any and all outside as I fight the insanity within
into the small room of chaos I go, locking the door behind
alone imprisoned with my insanity
hospital bed and straps
needles and tubes
I revel and vacation within my own delusions
nothing to be done
physically healthy but damage will heal
words I hear and laugh
more surreal than ever before
haunting eyes of dead innocence I see
to the edge I walk
and into the abyss I stare
I shout and swear
deny it all and hold it all close
finally I step back
the abyss is not for me
to rule it is not enough
into the box I put all my insanity
forcing it back in, like a fog
denser it grows
heavy it lays on the floor
within the chest it swirls and spins
making lightning strikes to the sides
my prison is lightening
I see the face of death
with innocent eyes staring back at me from within the chest
chest is locked and closed, but small whisps still leak out
the floor is clear
the doors are locked
and up I climb
mount everest but a anthill
and still I climb
today I continue to climb
as my sanity is forever in danger
my rage just below the surface
18 years have passed
and still I see the face of death with innocent eyes
of a 14 year old boy
know my hand did that
my body answered the call of my will

Other People's Morality

Why is it that the ignorant people seem to be flocking into my life, right now? The last two weeks have been pretty rough for me with the loss of a grandfather then to return to my apartment, only to face packing boxes.

In the last 4 days I have met 3 new people that were appalled and vocally disappointed when they recognized I walk a different path.

The first was one of the kind gentlemen I hired to assist with moving me. Due to the unexpected delay caused by the out of state memorial service, I hired a moving company to help pack and relocate my belongings. One of the young men was in my bedroom when he came across the pentacle (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pentacle) I made. (Review previous postings for photo.) At which point he took a closer look around and realized he was in a room with multiple candles, an incense 'ashtray', and wall hangings of Celtic knot designs. The young man, we shall call Josh, was quite upset. He was so upset he actually pulled a small New Testament bible from his jeans and started reading scripture in my home. He refused to touch any more of my 'tainted' belongings, until they had been blessed and the evil banished from me and mine. Oh, but the issue continues with young Josh. Young Josh starts bucking against the instructions of his employer of putting away his bible and do his job. Josh starts spewing forth a great fount of ignorant blithering of evil and persecution. Statements of magic being the work of the Devil and how I must be possessed by the 'Great One', himself to have such arcane paraphernalia laying about. To shorten a long story, Josh quit/was fired from his job for failing to exercise the agreed upon duties of his position. Josh even tried to recruit away the other young man assisting. Josh left the apartment, only to return a few moments later to request a ride to another part of town.

Today I met the other two, at the same time. I was at a local branch of a major chain store. There is a "Neighborhood Market" a few blocks away from my new apartment. As I'm walking across the parking lot (the Dr. told me to get more exercise), I stop to help a woman whose bag of groceries had busted, spilling about the ground. Chasing down roll-away oranges is not something I wanted to do, but it was the 'right' thing to do. Returning to the scene, I'm helping re-bag the spilt groceries into other bags when my pendant falls out from under shirt, as I bend down to pick up a few items. The older woman whose groceries we were picking up noticed the design of the pentacle and made polite mention of it. The younger woman (still old enough to be my mother - so 60ish?), whom I assume to be the daughter of the older lady just goes nuts on me. She gets so agitated that she actually hit me with her purse. Demanding I step away from 'Nanna'. Of course, this is assault, but who am I to press charges? There was really not much danger to me, unless she lost her balance and fell on me. I stepped away. 'Nanna' was nice and friendly and non-judgemental. The other woman was just mental.

I am starting to see a pattern, not just from these three people, but the experiences relayed to me by others, also. As 'We' start uniting and become a large enough entity for the government to be called to toe on meeting equal rights, 'We' start catching more and more guff from the public. As the Wiccan/Pagan/non-Christ based beliefs start getting more air time and published in more mainstream media 'We' will become larger and better targets for these types of attacks.

I don't advertise to people I don't interact with daily, my interest in arcane beliefs, my curiosity for a different answer, my desire to find a solution to the mysteries of life and the universe that rings honest and whole in my heart. The people know these things about me. A few are graduates of seminary schools and we will debate, not argue the differences in our beliefs. I wear a small pentacle on a string about my neck. The pentacle is nearly the same diameter as a quarter. I'm a balding, overweight, 40 year old white guy, with glasses. My clothes are appropriate for what I am. The only wording on my shirts is to advertise some company or service related to computers. I have no tattoo's or piercings.

In discussion of these events with friends, this evening, a common thread started to become visible. The world we know, here in this town is changing, and it is not for the better. Several comments were made regarding choices and options. Amendments and Constitutions and Bills were also deliberated. It was finally decided there is little we as individuals can do, that we are not already doing. Be who and what we are. No need to publicly advertise our beliefs, but instead to step up and be what the Ideal American of the 50's was supposed to be. Friendly, supportive, helpful and wholesome. Give no quarter by providing nothing to be pointed out.

Now all of this has been a wonderful exercise of public image management for a group of largely alpha personalities participating in the nations fastest growing belief system. My ultimate question is: Who decides what is or is not moral? I have been told the public, as a whole, through the vote determines morality laws. But with the number of sex scandals in the elected offices of late, can we count on this being true?


Quiet Time

I currently have a death in the family looming. He could go at any minute. I may not post for a few days as I deal with this.

Dave, my stepmother's father has been important in my life. A successful man, well off, multiple business ventures presented him the opportunity of a comfortable life. And he availed himself of those opportunities.

I recall when I first met the man, I was an 11 or 12 year old boy. Illiterate, mouthy and had to demonstrate that to any adult that would stand still long enough to listen. "Pop" would have none of it. At the time, my family was what is currently referred to as white trash, minus the welfare. Both parents worked, neither was college educated and we had nothing. My now step mother was my mother's best friend and they both worked third shift in a muffler factory. However, Becky (my now step mother), loved us kids from the moment she met us all. Then reality went sideways. My parents divorced, we kids were thrown back and forth with custody battles, attempted suicides, alcohol, physical abuse charges about as ugly a divorce as can be had. Finally my father got full custody and then a job offer out of state. While my mother was losing her mind, Becky stayed with us kids and brought her son along. We all moved to New Jersey. the change of scenary, schools and people helped us all become a family, sort of. Becky's parents became very agitated as Becky had left, had taken their first grand child with her and the drama went crazy for about 3 years. 6 months or so, later, Becky and my father married. Worse, she married the son of working class hicks from Kentucky. They never came to visit us, but we always found a way to make it back to them for Christmas or Thanksgiving. My father got a better job in Cincinnati, so we moved, again. "Close enough to Indianapolis to visit, far enough that you won't show up, unannounced" was the way my father described it. We were better off, in a larger house that was not run down we were 'becomming human' is how Pop described us one Thanksgiving. All of us were in school and were able to read well, and just in general we were more 'balanced' even if we were impossible to handle by their standards of being seen, but not heard.

On the day of my high school graduation, we had in the house, my father, my step mother, my mother (whom I did not invite), both of my father's parents, my sister, younger brother and Becky's son, whom my father had adopted as his own. On that day, Pop invested in me a small piece of wisdom over the phone, as I recall. "Always look before you move, think before you speak and be honest in business. Do these things and you will be found by success" he said. 6 weeks later I started Basic Training in the Army. On holidays and family visits when Pop was around, we would have heated debates on education, religion, politics, society and anything else, until eventually, he would kick me out of the house for being a spoiled ignorant kid. That is when I learned he was a drunkard. Pop always had a taste for the bottle, mostly scotch as I recall. Then I made a mistake, an error in judgement and went to prison. I received a letter from Becky while in prison telling me how Pop was disappointed in me and how I was never welcome in his home, ever again. This did not bother me, much, as I thought him to be an arrogant, self righteous person. A few years later, I drove to Cincy to visit my father. On the way back to Oklahoma, I stopped in Indiana to visit my father's parents. I also took a chance to stop in a local pub that Pop had purchased an interest in. He was there. We spoke, we debated, we came to a mutual understanding and respectful agreement. On my way out of town I stopped by to drop off a package to his wife, from my step mother. A few more years and several visits later, we are at Pop's for Christmas. And he is very drunk, loud and rude, but also 'better'. I believe this to be because of my lineage. My wife was playing a carol on their piano as she was telling about teaching kids to play piano after school where she taught. He started quizzing her on music and what she taught the kids. She admitted that she used modern music to teach the kids to play, because they would practice it and this bigoted, hypocritical man started berating my wife about how she can't be a very good teacher if she has to resort to teaching 'jungle music' just to get kids to learn. He kept this crap up, harassing a woman he had met for the first time not more than 2 hours, before. That is when I learned the MOST important lesson the man would ever teach me.

Money, wealth, privilege, possessions and opportunity were not enough. If your heart was not filled, as well with love, compassion and understanding you would have nothing to give the world but bitterness, cruelty and sorrowful regret. I don't know if this is something he has ever realized himself.

A few years ago, Pop was in a very bad auto accident. Nearly killed himself and others. Alcohol was involved in the incident. It took him, I think 6 months or more, to be able to walk, again, without assistance. I have been back to visit far too infrequently. And recently I learned from my step mother that he has been very proud of me. I climbed so far, then fell, and climbed even farther and harder, again to make something of myself. He told her I was his 'other' grandson, for the first time. That means a lot to me, for some reason I don't really understand, myself.

Rest in Peace, you tired, embittered man. Your strength of limb may have faded, but never shall the strength of your memory be lost. I love you and I will miss you, Pop.


OH! My goodness. What will they THINK?

Before reading my post, please visit this interesting commentary on the way things stand with the war.


Go ahead and read it. This will wait.

Now, I would like to say: What the Hell! Is someone TRYING to make things worse? I mean such an aggressive stance, such harsh demands.

Of course we will NOT surrender to the likes of that filthy son of a pig-nosed wh*&#!

Bin Laden! You and your friends killed innocent friends of mine. I am honorbound, by both our cultures to see you dead, dead, dead. To that end, I support our troops hunting you. I support my President's war upon you and yours. I believe you will rot in that special place in the universe for sick, maladjusted sociopaths that steals innocence from little girls. May your soul and your spirit never see peace you infertile, malodorous, pork liver fed, son of a coward, spawn of a harlot. If you believe strapping a bunch of semtex and dynamite to your chest and walking into a bazaar to blow yoruself up is heroic. Try it, yourself, you fecal brained, in-bred bastard!


Third posting for the day -- will it be the last?

If I take the time to make a unique post for each question that I have been asked...well, I don't think my fingers can handle that kind of typing. So, here are a bunch of answers, again in no particular order:

Bob: No thanks.

Terry: Sure, what ever.

Terri: Yes, you too can start your own blog. The account is free. And you do not need a specific topic to discuss. Some people use their blog as a sort of diary. And yes, before you ask, you can make the blog private so your Mother can not find it.

Pastor McHenley: Sorry to disappoint you, but I really have no interest in 'converting' and returning to the light. We have had a great many theological discussions. I have greatly appreciated your point of view and respect your opinion. It is true, there are no atheists in foxholes, just like there is no idol worship at the Vatican.

Dr. Phillips: Yeap! I have a few screws loose. As much as I appreciate the offer, I really don't want to lay down and discuss my reasoning for starting this blog. If you wish to psychoanalyze me, read my posts. I am willing to bet they will be more honest than I could be in your office.

High-Priestess Narisca: No.

Officer Graeves: Thanks for dropping by. And thanks for the ticket.

Mechanic Alberto: Yo no hablo espanol.

Joe: Yes, I enjoy Celtic music, as well as speed metal, thrash, classic rock, gothic, techno and even bluegrass. What I can't stand is that bubble gum pop and rap. One is fake the other is traitorously hollow. Both disgust me.

Cindy: No thanks, dear. I do not wish to have children. One of me on this planet is enough.

And to so many others that asked: Yes, I will post photos of things I have made as a blacksmith. This is the last item I made. It was made at a forge in California while on a business trip. The circle is made from 1/2" square. The star arms are made from 1/8" by 1/2". Each piece is 'forge welded' and no power tools were used to make it. Each piece was 'hot cut' from the original stock. I was not able to finish the pentacle on that trip, so my friend who owned that shop finished it and sent it to me. It is about 10" in diameter. I have jokingly made a comment of making a set of three of these (6", 8" and 10") to be used as trivets. So far, I have orders for 7 sets at $85.00 each. Now I just need a local shop to make them at!

Douglas: 42

I may take the time to answer some of the other questions in a later posting.

P. Blacksmith.

Posting times

Daggone it, I have had a wonderful response to this blog. Several people I asked to visit have and a few are asking questions and offering subject and discussion topic suggestions.

One person, though, asked why all the posting times were so early in the morning. It's easy to answer, actually. I work 3rd shift. I started the blog, on Friday night, during some down time, while at work. Over the weekend, I posted again, on the shift, because I maintain my 3rd shift lifestyle, rather than trying to live a 'normal' time two days a week, killing my productivity for at least 2 work days as I shift back to nights after a weekend.

It's also quiet, this time of day. Yesterday's post was written in an IHOP at 4:30 in the morning. I was the only guest. The waiter would swing by every ten minutes or so, shake the coffee pot and move on. I was there for 6 hours, just working away on the internet. This is my time of day, and I like it.

So, Debbie, I hope that answers your questions. If not, leave a comment. Maybe I will respond. ;-)

The World As It Is SUPPOSED To Be

A colleague of mine asked how in the world I managed to link to so many people in the medical and policing industries. Here is a part of the conversation:

"It's quite simple, actually", I say.

"yeah? explain it to me."

"Nurses, police, fire fighters and many others all provide a service to the population. They are the harbingers of 'The World As It Is SUPPOSED To Be'. These are people that work jobs that pay low to moderate wages. The type of career that will never make these people financially rich. At least not the ones that are worth having doing the job. Much like teachers, and I don't mean college professors, these people serve their communities in these capacities as a calling."

"But why? I mean if the money is not very good and hours are terrible, why put up with the heartache of the job?" this young sprog asks. (Thanks for the vocabulary contribution, LD!).

"For the same reason we have so many troops in Iraq and Afghanistan. These people see a need and they step up to fill it. These people are the unsung heroes of our society."

To which the snot replied, "Whatever man. I just don't get it. It's not American. There is no gain in it. They suffer through money issues just to take care of ungrateful people. I could never work like that."

And there begins the education of the corruption of our youth. I will admit, I got into computers for a living for several reasons. I had the brain for it. I loved things that were logical. Mr. Spock was my hero as a kid. He betrayed nothing of his thoughts to others that he did not intentionally want them to know or see. Logic and reason rules this little world.

And as others have done the same over the last two generations, each more empty than the last. Our youth (Gen X and Gen Y) became addicted to the immediate gratification of the NOW American lifestyle. Gen Z will be even more instant gratification. With parents shirking their responsibilities to raise their kids, schools have become day care centers and teachers glorified baby sitters. Continuing the cycle of the 'Dumbing down of America'. What will Gen AA and Gen AB be like, I wonder.

Another point that got my ire up was the young man's comments about working in a social service industry as being un-American. This, dare I say boy, has no regard for anyone that does not have a 6 figure income. He does not have that kind of income, but he is still in college and working a job to keep his school loans under control. This was such a shock to me. Without a salary of $100000.00 or more a year, this kid can not consider someone as being successful.

I may not be happy in my job, but I am happy in my career. I am happy with my MOST of my choices in life, even some of the mistakes. There is nothing in my past I would change, because I would not be here, now. I pity this person who is under-educated in the most important fact of life.

Money will not and can not buy you happiness.

And to all those educators, police, fire fighters, EMS techs, soldiers, and everyone else that works for the good of society, I wish to repay you with the currency that means the most to me.

My thanks and my respect.

I only wish I had the words to convince this naive youthful co-worker the importance of such gratitude and respect.

P. Blacksmith


Feelin' ALL that LOVE!

A big warm thanks to AD for the mention on his blogs. I am honored by his mention, but then again, there is a very good reason for that honor. When you have a chance, if you have not already, be sure the special project AD, BabsRN and MattG all did in their collaborative story. They started with Matt's views of a severe vehicle accident, the AD's involvement as an Emergency Medical Tech and concluded with Babs perspective in the ER and after. Their combined story is called Perspectives. A very moving read.

Ok, and now on to other requests, via e-mail and the comments, in no particular order:

  • Yes, I am a blacksmith. A hobby artisan of steel and iron. I do not make swords. But I do make other items, including camping utensils, household items and decorations, historic re-creations and pretty much anything else that suites my fancy. Being a traditional blacksmith, I refrain from using power tools, I do by hand as much of my metalwork as possible. The down side is that living in an apartment, the management thereof has a slight problem with a 3000 degree fire the size of a softball in one's living room, not to mention the smoke, and the noise. If you know anyone in the general OKC, OK area that has shop space, please let me know!
  • Yes, I will be sharing some how-to's and other information. Including an occasional shameless plug to other sites that I know share useful details on steel work and home repair and workings.
  • I do work with computers. In fact, I work 3rd shift as a NOS Analyst for one the world's largest PC manufacturers. But my desire is to return to the San Francisco Bay /Silicon Valley area for employment.
  • Yes, I am a Pagan. In the original Latin 'paganus' referred to folk who lived in the country, usually considered ignorant by the city folk. For me, though, pagan means one who has seen a different light and chooses to walk a different path through life. I do practice spell craft. To me and MY unique beliefs, a spell is nothing more than a catalyst and focus for a prayer. I follow no particular path or teaching, therefore, I would be considered eclectic.
  • No, I am not 'anti-christian', and despite what my mother may have called me as I was growing up, nor am I the 'Anti-Christ' himself. We all deserve the opportunity to follow whatever path makes us happy, with only ONE restriction, do not harm or limit anyone else doing the same.
  • Yes, I have interests that would be labeled survivalist by some. I believe in alternative methods of capturing and using energy. I also believe in a strong dependable posture and presence, as well as just being prepared for as much as possible.
  • I am an American, a Veteran and a human. I make mistakes, I vote and I have served to support and continue the freedoms we enjoy, and all too often take for granted.

And last, but not least for this post is a message to Jenna, that I will be repeating in a comment on her blog:

Please tell the Prime Geek NOT TO BUY A FORGE! It is much better to actually build your own first forge. This link http://www.anvilfire.com/21centbs/forges/brkdrum1.htm will help him make his own first forge. It is not necessary to spend lots of money on tools until you actually need those tools.

P.S. the blogroll links are fixed!


Initial Post - Crap, what have I gotten into?

Well, this is it. My second foray into the blogosphere. My first blog was on a personal website for the study and sharing of pagan and wiccan information.

(already broke rule one - don't share religious points of view. This will be discussed more, in later posts.)

I believe I have a bit of a snarkish sense of humor and a twisted view on the world, as it is. More on this as I find the timbre and tone of my online voice.

I have been reading several blogs (as listed to the side) for quite a while now. I decided to start using blogger.com for the home of my blog to (being honest, here) get more exposure. The more people that may stumble across the postings of my opinions and thoughts may share a new light one direction or another.

Feel free to leave comments. Please keep the attacks to a minimum. Share your thoughts and your opinions. Revel and use your first amendment rights, but don't abuse another in the process. (and there was rule two of good blogging - avoid politics, until you know your audience)

As you can see, I know the rules, and some of them I choose not to follow. Rules such as these are not laws. Laws of physics, laws of the republic, laws of society, those I obey. I may even fight the unjust ones, but I do obey them, and I expect them to apply to all and to be universal.

Anyway, enjoy your visit, come back often and be sure to give yourself a little love by visiting the blogs I enjoy. You may find we have something in common.

P. Blacksmith