Islam or the next group of people to attack

In response to a Facebook video posting of a woman being beaten by a group of Islamic men reportedly for being a woman trying to get aid at a hospital.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Central_Park_jogger_case and this happened in the 80's. It is sadly too easy to find a case of a woman or man being beaten in just plain old gang violence...in America. This is part of human nature. It happens everywhere. These are American gangs committing this violence. What would it be like if other countries looked at our gang related news and cast all of us as the same, evil, twisted, and sick people? It is heartening to know that we can travel to other countries and not be treated like many Americans treat all Muslims. Fear is understandable. The blanket hatred is Un-American. Here is a recent gang attack. 

http://newyork.cbslocal.com/2015/08/12/harlem-gang-terror/ These are small groups of terrorists by definition. Why aren't we going after these groups with the anger and hatred that is being aimed at Islam? Why is it acceptable? Are the death tolls not enough? A gang of terrorists see their point of view as law for all, and those that don't agree, should perish or be punished. This outlook on ALL of Islam sounds like the makings of a new gang. We should tread carefully and look inward before immediately sharing the next shared post that is attacking another group. 

Good people are found everywhere you go, just as bad people can also be found everywhere. Take some time to search for positive news stories on Islam to try to get a balanced point of view. Speaking of hospitals: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/.../a-positive-story-about... No matter how much many will ignore this, we are all immigrants save for the small population of Native Americans. We came in with blade and bullet. Immigrants are coming in boats or across borders, asking for a place to stay. Which way is preferable? It's an easy answer. And, Yes, you will indeed let in some unfavorable people. It's human nature. There will be good and bad. Always. 

Be the good.

Response to SPAM

One piece in particular, but the sentiment stands well enough on it's own
.

It is irresponsible to forward anything other than a joke without doing any of your own homework.

Keywords: Traitors, Democrats, Independents, Critical, Election, Constitutional, Rights, Obama, Ban, Private, Guns, Tyranny, Betrayed

All the makings for a great pre-campaign email to get the masses worried and afraid for their future and the future their kids will inherit.

Look at those words and really think about what you are saying. When the ‘other guy’ (or someday woman) takes office, they are compared to Hitler and are full of plotting deception. They want to Kill Christians (see other SPAM note sent previous to this) and turn the citizens of the US into helpless sheep. So they can.... make us slaves? Take our money? Mutilate us for fun? What is it a leader of our country would set out to do – really?

They are always taking the pile that was left to them from their predecessor and trying to figure out how best to handle it. This while working against an opposing Senate, etc...

But honestly, two things I’ve learned in my short years here on earth, numerous religious groups and the Republican party (that I grew up with) are very good at one thing - hands down; Spreading Fear to gain acceptance and numbers. It’s like dominos. Scare one to scare the next to scare the next. Look at the fold grow.

At the very least try a simple Snopes search. Try to find the actual bill and read the supposed “...language that would have implemented an international gun registry on all private guns and ammo.”

www.snopes.com/politics/guns/untreaty.asp

Which leads to this: http://www.state.gov/t/isn/armstradetreaty/index.htm

Which shows the U.S.’s explicit key points/terms that need to be included in the bill for it to be agreeable.

And this is useful info:

At the end of the Snopes page, is this very email. Some corrections on what was being voted on are noted. They got the “who voted Yes” part right.

And here are my few sources: Snopes.com and the Dept of State (gov) web pages (links above).

MOST typical of this email SPAM method is folks will remember their outrage and hatred toward the party the source of the email originally accused. Even if disproved, the feelings remain and continue to be built up and upon, one email (or conversation) at a time. Lying is one of the worst sins but no one considers forwarding gossip and lies on since they always ‘trusted their source’. It’s written off as a ‘Whoops’ and tomorrow another email is sent along by a ‘good friend’.

I’d begin to question the merit of your friends for starters. Please start taking responsibility for your actions. If you are passing on notes like the one below, you are very much taking advantage of a trusting friend or relative – whether you think that’s the case or not. Because that is the intention of these notes, to take advantage of you, so you may take advantage of the next. All in the name of your shared cause (your party).

Rantsome

No matter what transpires within our borders, how Fox news delivers their take is embarrassing and irresponsible.  I've been living in Netflix bliss for years and then watched some news bit hosted by a judge?  It should have stopped at Wapner.  What is wrong with us?  We react with snap judgements fueled by fear.  You're going to die.  There is no way around it.  Stop letting your fear of death control you.  No.  Stop letting your fear of death allow others to control you.  Please.  For humanities sake.  I swear, times like these are just a breath away from an old fashioned witch hunt.  How quickly we still jump up and accuse and point the fork at something we don't understand.

Or...

Fox is a disgrace.  I am embarrassed that they represent America.  That's not a judge.  It's an actress and she is taking advantage of your fear of your own demise.  Get over yourself and engage.  A real American doesn't sit down, hit 'on', and believe the shit they are seeing and hearing.  A real American is evolving.  They aren't afraid to ask Why.  And if they are they won't let their fear stop them from asking anyway.  They don't let a t.v. show or radio broadcast dictate how they should think and act.  A real American is a pioneer and a forward thinker.  They are not lazy.  They are not so tired that they will make spot judgements and cover them with blanket statements.  A real American is growing and constantly learning.  They know that nothing is black and white.  Any judgement or law requires time and reflection.

Look, it's late and I just want to share my opinion on what I'm seeing as poor/sad reactions to the Boston bombings.  I just don't understand how some very good friends have adopted certain views and opinions.  It's akin to seeing a friend die alongside you in the war.  Maybe.

But Fox....They are simply Fucked.

Dear Facebook

Think of your attitude as a math equation. The result is the fullness of your life and your general state of being.

As you export your feelings to the world, you go from addition and subtraction, to multiplication and division.

Keep your impulse to share the negative in check. Keep it positive this year and realize increased happiness come December 2013.

Something Good Out of the S.B.A.R. Happenings

I found that at least one of the Robins (maybe they're a couple) actually laid three eggs in the nest that's been under our deck since we've lived at our house.  Two have hatched so far as I know and look like this:

Baby S.B.A.R.'s

Now either the SBARs are being overprotective this year, or they really are just plain Shit Blasting Angry Robins.  I'd like to think the last egg is what still gives them to drive to attack our screens and windows.  My next step might be to put a 0.22 pistol to one of the baby's head and demand the SBARs knock the shit off.  I mean...that might work, right?  See an artist's rendition of the proposed idea below:

S.B.A.R. Persistent and Hungry For A Lead Pellet

My sister thought this bird might be egg bound.  I think that's like having a constipated pregnancy?  It sounds awful and drives straight to your pity basket.  The one that resides near the heart.  So your P.B. spikes and suddenly you feel this urge to catch the bird, put a good squeeze on it's upper belly region, and then push down like you would a tube of toothpaste.  I mean, that'll get the egg out right?  Then I won't have a crazed bird shitting all over our windows and deck?  Because that would be great!  The old Win-Win situation.  Yeah.

Except Shit-Blaster is back and I'm serious....this bird hopped on the deck rail while I sat at the patio table, and squawked, "Hey.  Hey.  Hey you.  Do you have any pellets?  Any lead pellets?  I prefer them to enter one eye and exit out the other.  Soooo.... what can you do for me?"

That's what I heard.  Honest Abe.  Scout's Honor and all.  I'll be buying a Crossman before the week's up.  And DON'T WORRY... I'll ship it to Ethiopia for you who are worried about a perfectly good Robin going to waste.  And if there ARE any eggs up in that bird....well...then it's a twofur.  Breakfast and lunch.  Or a very hearty breakfast.

The End.

The Little Red Hen, Revisited. Apparantly Her Name Was NOT Henny Penny.

I nearly wrote this entire story until I realized that Henny Penny might not be the one I was thinking of.  Turns out that's the other name for Chicken Little?  Or one is a knock of of the other?  Anyway, those were about the sky falling.  I'd like to address the story of the hen/chicken that tries to get some animal 'friends' to help around the place.  She gets nowhere and decides to get all moral on their asses.

Well the story was about a chicken.  I have to think this had something to do with why it's been forgotten.  OK, and the story was rather limp and pretty repetitive too.  But the message was good.  It was right on.  It's what seems to be missing in the yutes today.  "Oh fur Christ's Sake, is this one of those 'When I was your age...' stories??"  Pffffft.  I don't know what it is.  It's something.  And by the way, I'm going to call this little bastard hen or chicken or whatever, Henny Penny.  HP for short, because it's not fun writing Henny Penny in every other line.  And I'm using this name because, like I said, I had thought that was the name of the chicken in question.  So the story then..

Henny Penny.  The story of a chicken who gets tired of doing for everyone else and getting nothing in return.  A vengeful chicken?  Sure.  An angry chicken?  Why not.  A sado-masochistic chicken?  Pretty sure, but I don't talk about this side of Henny.

Now this chicken was kind of a dick for not outright telling the other animals the secretly planned outcome.  Ole Henny Penny starts out drooling at the beak over her imagined loaf of steaming, hot, fresh from the oven, bread.  She's thinking of this bread and how she's going to start recruiting for help to make the bread.  She already sees that she'll make the loaf from scratch and that no one else will be willing to do anything but eat the final product.  I'm beginning to think this is a barnyard full of wankers.

Now in all honesty (because I was lying to you before?) I have to believe HP has put up with the bullshit of the other animals for so long she's finally going to teach them a lesson.  Whether she was born an asshole or if her friendships just pushed her toward the personality she now exhibits, is one for the ages.  It's akin to the question of what came first, the chicken or the egg? 

HP is thinking of this loaf of bread and struts her way out among her frolicking, no-cares-in-the-world, friends of her's.

HP:  "Hey Pig.  Would you care to help me.."
Pig:  (rooting around for some scraps of food under the trough) "NO!  Beat it, you clucky little pest."
HP:  "Okay." ...and thinking {You won't be getting shit later on, you pig fucker.}

Well it's true.  This pig has recently become a father.  His lovely sow birthed 9 piglets.  One was a runt.  Now old Fern just fell in love with this runt and.... oh.  Wrong story.

HP skips along to the next friend, as best a chicken can skip.  Little clucks forced out of her throat every time her chicken feet contacted the dusty earth.  Skipping her way over to the horse with a blessed vision of that steaming loaf of bread, hot out of the oven.  And by the way, for this next interaction, you should know the barnyard animals have decided a chicken listens with their eyes.  It's unclear where a chicken hides their ears if they indeed have them at all.

HP:  "Hey Horse.  I'm planning on making bread.  I sure could use some help.."

Horse: "Look, I don't want any of your 'Bread' you round squawking bag of feathers.  If you come around one more time, asking me to help you make anything, {moving her horse lips an inch away from HP's right eye...and whispers..} I'll make sure one of these here horseshoes {show's Henny the underside of her front left hoof} finds it's way up your chicken ass.  Is this getting through to you?"

Henny blinks (as long as she has eyelids... and if she doesn't, then she didn't blink, OK?).  She provides no response.  She simply pivots on one stick of a leg and struts off to another animal.  Then, recalling  the last interaction, thinks better of it and heads back to the chicken coop.  HP half flies, half scrambles, up to her nest and digs out the seed of grain she'd hidden away, with her sharp yellow beak.

She then goes out behind the chicken coop, finds what seems a suitable spot, scratches up the ground for some three minutes, and finally, opens her beak over the 1/2 inch deep trench that now lay before her.  The seed fell silently to the bottom of the trench and Henny's eyes widened a bit.  See, that's how she smiles.  Her beak is pretty well fixed and doesn't allow for curves of any sort.  She has instead settled on widening her eyes for surprise, pain, and of course smiling.  For boredom, contentment, and frowning, she simply squints.

So, now smiling, Henny turned her backside to the trench and began running in place.  Wings pumping with such speed they are a blur.  Small pebbles rocket out behind the animated chicken, engulfed in a noticeably slower moving, earthy spray of dust.  The hole she had dug only minutes ago, slowly fills in.  And though she didn't think it possible, her eyes widened even more.

Content that the hardest work was behind her, HP now spent her days sipping water from various places around the yard.  She'd hold the water in her closed beak, then neck outstretched and low to the ground, she'd make chicken runs to the spot where her seed lay hidden beneath the hard packed earth.  At best, two drops would fall over her seed's bed.  The rest of the water either went down her throat during the run, or fell out of her opened beak and down her feathery chest.  It was enough though.

After about a week and a half of watering, the first green sprout made it's way to the open air of the barnyard.  At the very moment Henny witnessed this wonder, her eyes widened to such an extent, a small, high pitched sucking sound began emitting from her right eye.  The sound is best understood by comparing it to a balloon whose air is allowed to escape by making a tiny 'vagina' out of the end of the balloon (take thumb and forefinger of both hands and pull the mouth of the balloon in opposing directions).

This one-of-a-kind phenomenon was born into existence when Henny's eyeball extended far enough out that it began to literally pop out of it's socket.  The space behind her eyeball, which became open to the atmosphere, led directly to her tiny chicken brain.  This sucking, or vacuum, has to do with the negative pressure of the air that surrounds Henny's (and every other chicken's) brain.  That negative pressure usually serves the sole purpose of holding a chicken's eyes in their sockets.  In this case, with the tiniest opening appearing behind her right eye, Henny's vacuous cranium began taking on air.

Now take, if you would, the position of an onlooker.  Let's say you're strolling in a leisurely way around the barnyard and happen by the back of the chicken coop.  You might not be looking in that direction at the time, but the strained 'squeeeeeeee' of Henny's eye will cause your ears to perk up.  You'll almost jerk your head in that direction, as this sound is most unexpected in a place like this.  You see Henny with her wings slightly raised away from her plump chicken frame, as if she was balancing on a high wire, some 70 feet above the ground.  She appears enamored with something on the ground at her wiry chicken feet.  There is something off kilter, other than the fact that this chicken is standing stock still and appearing dead on her feet, that you won't have time enough to realize.  At least, that is, until it's too late.  Quite suddenly the squeaking you are hearing takes a turn on the path of a negative parabola, quickly dropping off to a sighing breath.  It's at this point, Henny's right eye falls from it's socket, the umbilical connection flailing behind for the ride.  There is no longer a vacuum working in Henny's favor.  When the right eye is halfway through it's fall, the left leaps out in it's own suicidal bungee jump from the socket it had, until this day, called home.  And worth note, in all of this, not the slightest peep escapes her yellow chicken's beak.

Henny Penny stands as you've seen her now for the last minute or so (or did this all take place in seconds?).  Except now her eyes are dangling lazily from their stalks.  There's isn't the slightest of breezes and soon, even the movement of the eyeballs ceases.  Now witness Henny, as she pitches forward in snapshot form.  One moment she's erect, and the next, she's face down in the dirt.  Her left eye socket lands squarely over the small green bud that happened to be the single cause of this bizarre scene.

So what happened?  She's dead.  Henny Penny is stone dead.  When the vacuum around her brain suddenly equalized to atmospheric pressure, she went through a death similar to surfacing from deep water too quickly.  Something akin to the bends had occurred.  This still might not have been the cause.  It's quite possible Henny died from sheer joy.  Her heart may have stopped well before her eyes left their sockets.  I'd like to think this was the true end that Henny saw.  Instead of the stomach lurching scene she would have seen, were she still conscious when her eyes took the dive and jing-jangled about.  For those eyes were still quite attached and they would surely have still been taking in light through their retinas.

You see, Henny never did make that load of bread.  I tend to think those other animals weren't really friends of hers.  Seems plausible to me that once word of that grain stalk got out, for sure as I sit here typing this account, some animal's hoof would have "I'm sorry Henny, didn't see that there.  Looks like I've squashed it flat.", put the plant back into the ground it came from.  Seems to me, this was the best ending this story could have had.  You might not have liked the vision of her standing there with eyes lollying about, but you must be able to see the pivotal moment for this clucky bird.  Besides, even in the story of the Little Red Hen, if you turn to the page where the grain is growing, let us be quite frank.... there wasn't anywhere near enough grain to grind down into enough flour with which could make an entire loaf of bread.  Also, there's other shit you need to make bread with, yeast being one of them, and this bird was in no way equipped to collect all of these items.  That plus locating an oven and WORKING the fucking thing...  That story is full of shit and it hurts even my poor little chicken brain to think of it.  Oh, I didn't tell you?  I'm a chicken.  Sorry for not sharing that earlier.  It's of little consequence and honestly is none of your noodle-nosing business.

Anyway, wasn't there some moral in all of this?  Well, yes.  Henny Penny was an extremely hard working, ingenious, and focused chicken.  Some would say she was the Wonder Woman of the Hens.  She understood that it took work in to get something (fun, food, results..) out.  Henny Penny should have been more of a hero, but the previous person who took a stab at her autobiography kind of sucked out.  That, and like I said, the fucking name is awful.  It was painful every time I wrote it.  Even HP (eeeesh) makes me cringe.

Look, if you've got kids, get engaged.  Make them do stuff.  I don't know what stuff.  Anything.  Try the Cool Hand Luke method.  Give them a shovel and have them dig a hole.  Then when they've gotten a good ways in to the ground, come over and tell them to fill it back in.  Rinse and repeat.  Kids are growing up getting more and doing less.  They're expecting it to come to them on a platter.  Well for Christ's sake, if you're bringing it to them on a platter, at least get halfway to them with it and "accidentally" trip and throw whatever it is on the ground.  Then have them pick it up so they've at least worked for it somehow.  Also, have them clean the platter for next time.  Right?  I mean, like the thankfully still living Mugatu said, "Doesn't anybody notice this? I feel like I'm taking crazy pills! I invented the piano key necktie, I invented it! What have you done, Derek? You've done nothing! NOTHIIIING!"  Just replace Derek with "Kids these days".  :)

P.S. Henny Penny (uggh) is still very much alive.  I didn't lie, but I didn't exactly tell you the whole truth.  Some other time then, no?