Thin As A Dime

The walls are thin between worlds.

Sounds and odors emanate from invisible places. Good and bad vie for preeminance.

Dreams and wakefulness coalesce.

Time and space change places, like twin rivers coarsing to a mysterious outlet.

I had a view of our ancestral castle above the river on the rise. As I hiked, I thought of those who had trod here in the past, who made today possible. There had been a lot of blood, tears, toil and sweat to get where we were.

The hills were green, though as it happened in Scotland, a cool morning as in I could see my breath.

I remembered my forebears for we are the sum of all our yesterdays. And as I did so, it was as if things spun in reverse. I'd forgotten about the solar eclipse, but was piquantly reminded as the sky darkened.

How it must have mystified some of my ancestors, maybe frightened some who had a thin faith.

The sky grew black and the wind seemed to swirl round me. i was in the middle of a vortex that appeared to swallow time and space.

I stood my ground and weathered the storm.

As I did, I realized it had become still. The light slowly returned. I look to and fro and much looked the same except for one thing. The castle on the high hill was not in ruins. It look fresher and I saw banners flying with my clans crest fluttering over the land.

Just as quickly I heard horse hooves and voices, along with hunting dogs wailing in pursuit of game.

I was knocked flat as a powerful horse came to a halt near me.

Looking up I saw a face so familiar from a portrait that hung at the castle and was in several booksw in my own library.

'Who are you that would trod these grounds?'

I gave my name.

His ears prickled as I said the middle for it was the clan name he bore.

'I am Henry St. Clair, master of this place. You must be a visiting cousin. Come let me help you up afore Help and Hold maul you.'

I heard the hounds approaching and remembered that indeed, Henry's dogs, gifts from Robert the Bruce, were called Help and Hold.

Henry called out for his men to restrain the hounds and he summoned one of his aides to see to me.

'Come, Michael, let me take you home.'


The above is an idea brewing and thought I'd share it as part of a larger story to be done in 2011.

Thanks And Thanks A Lot

My list is pretty long for thanks. Maybe a lot longer for thanks a lot. below is a sampling.

Thanks for my son and daughter, joy mixed with pain lol.
Thanks for many friends, who inspire and strengthen. Hope I give back as well.
Thanks for my work. It focuses me so I can be more effective.
Thanks for endurance, without which I would be ended.
Thanks for Freedom, without which we cannot live!
Thanks for The Founders, who laid the groundwork.
Thanks for others letting me know I'm far from alone in the fight.
Thanks for shedding light on child exploitation.

And the thanks a lot crowd? Mostly the usual suspects.

Thanks a lot to the current marxist in chief for continuing the tradition of obstruction of justice and continuing the death of the Republic.
Thanks a lot to congress for the same.
Thanks a lot to people who cry hate when they themselves are actually hating.
Thanks a lot to those who use social causes to further socialist agendas.
Thanks a lot for wrongfully imprisoning innocent folks.
Thanks a lot but no thanks!

One last thanks: to God for all things for it is from all things we learn.

The Blood Is The Life 1

I felt the blood coursing as I ran.

Pounding through my body, my temples throbbing and heart beating like a tympani gone wild.

There was no going back. This track was a one way course. Running. Running for my life in the dark.

Earlier, the sky was light, although it threatened to cloud, bringing a chill Fall rain.

I was a runner for health and by hobby. I participated in a number of charity run/walks. I didn't really compete. I simply ran against myself.

I'd just slowed down my morning run and was walking at a clip to begin 'running down'. It was unwise to just stop, kind of like pacing oneself scuba diving, so the bends didn't set in.

As I trotted up the steps to my brownstone condo, one of my neighbors came gliding into the hallway.

'Morning Tracy. How goes it?'

'Not bad' She paused and looked at me head tilted. 'Wanna come to a party?'

I thought, Hmmm. I don't dig parties. 'Where is it?' I thought again if she says 'It's in my pants....'. Nah, just kidding. She was a good kid. Just my warped sense of humor talking.

'At the old Brentwood house. You know, over across town past the north side of the square. Some guy bought it and was inviting townies for a house warming.'

'And the guy's name is.....?' Tracy got excited and left out details sometimes. Nice kid though.

'Guy de Maupassant. Honest. He's some kind of artist, writer. Says he wanted a quiet place to retreat. Can't get any quieter than here huh?'

'Probably a pseudonym. And you're right Tracy, this is pretty much the end of the line.' I meant that in a good way since I as well, had sought out the town for much the same reason.

'Huh', said I. 'I don't cotton to gatherings. But if you are going, kid, I'll tag along.'

'Bodyguard, eh?" She just smiled and lit up the day. I went in and didn't give it any thought.

That evening I heard a rap on the door.

There was Tracy in a pair of jeans that might have been painted on, with a flowered dark top, sleeves at the elbows flaired in lace, with a black sweater over.

'Ready to check out the newbie?', she asked in her bubbly way.

Ok, Tracy, I'm with you', as I grabbed a tan jacket and out the door.

We decided to walk, as the evening promised a cool presence if not balmy.
There was a hazy cast to the sky and a bit of moon shone, halolike, to light the way.

'Ok, Tracy, here we go off to see what this dude's up to.' I was not as said much on parties. Tracy was a party animal. Any chance to gather was good for her.

The town was small enough that we didn't take long to get to the Brentwood house. It was old, well for these parts, over a hundred years. It had some of the gothic features that appealed to bigwigs at that time and to goths now.

The yellow lights glowed like an ancient mariner's beacon, lighting the path to our evening. There seemed to be life in the old place again.

As Tracy and I approached the door, there was the din of music and talk. Not too loud, it wasn't sedate either. As we came to the door, the only curious thing was, well, a kind of neutrality. It just seemed dry like there was something ...elusive.

Anyway, we knocked with the old brass knocker shaped like a bearded face. The sound, not hollow, a little muffled, just neutral again, announced our presence.

Not long after, the door opened, spilling light. It created a backdrop with a figure centered framed with light and then the doorframe.

'Hi! Welcome to Guy's place!' The girl was young, probably early twenties, rather like Tracy. She stepped aside and waved us in.


Part 2 will come this December. It's creeping along......

Patterns

Is it my imagination or do I see a running horse on the wall? Is that one of Casper's 'ghost brothers'? And what of the row of faces on the bottom frame of a door panel?

I have always seen patterns, images and symbols. Are they there or does my mind project meaning on some random globs and warps in paint, wood and paper? Or both?

Actually, it's common for people to discern patterns. Most Psych 101 texts have a few pics covering it. Like the color blind number test or what do you see a rabbit or a duck etc.

Personally, it evidences talent and imagination to see things that otherwise blend in. It's too easy to let things drift by, to have the senses dulled.

Just like the events of our world huh? Then again myopia has always been a problem. All the better to control us (The wolf in Grandma's nightie trying to loll Red Riding Hood comes to mind.)and thus we are taught not to see what is in front of us.

Just be a force for seeing beyond the mundane. It is infectious.

This coming winter that can be the best contagion of all

4F

That was my final classification under the old Selective Service aka draft.

I had a hereditary shoulder bone that was thin where it should have been thick. It slipped out of the socket. The solution was to staple it together. Thus, I was deprived by genetics of serving my country militarily.

I have survived. I have adapted. My life went a different way than some of my classmates and fellow citizens.

Some who went to 'nam never came back. Others came back physically, but were lost upon return. Some came back changed physically. Such is war.

Many came back and lived healthy lives. So goes life.

I actually was sorry I couldn't serve. I wanted to be in Vietnam. Most guys who came back told me I didn't miss much. Maybe I was spared death or something else. I reconciled that a long time ago. Time marches on.

There are many ways to serve the Republic.

Be honest, and I don't mean be good and pay your taxes aka eco extortion. No. be open to setting brushfires in the minds of men as Sammy Adams said.

Being truly patriotic, not just a flag waver, takes commitment. just as much commitment as shouldering a rifle or driving a truck or operating a myriad of equipment in uniform does and maybe more.

More because you don't sign the paper or take an oath. Oaths can be taken for various reasons, but I talk of a silent giving of yourself to a cause, specifically the casue of Freedom and even more, Restoring the Republic.

That silent surrender to stand may not remain silent for long. For, if we don't speak out, well I think we all see what is happening and historically as well when we don't act.

Prickle the employees. Be prepared to backup yourself and others with readiness.

The fact that now more than ever those of us making a stand are being ridiculed and reviled, some even getting arrested for simply reminding the state we are the boss and we demand they do the will of the people or we change things.

They bring down the iron fist of tyranny to quell us.

I don't know about you or maybe in some instances I do, but I'm plenty pi$$ed at these 'rascals' and criminal usurpers including the placaters who try to 'rule' us.

For what must inevitably come, there is no worry about a bad classification.

We are all 1-A's now.

James Bond

As has been suspected, I am a fan of said character. From before day one.

We were a family that had books floating around the house before they became famous/movies. Never had a library nor an office. Just books. And an insatiable hunger for knowledge.

Bond is too broad a topic for just a blog entry. Books have been written and college courses devised concerning our 'gentleman secret agent'.

Yet, I'm compelled to tell you what I think.

He is the White Knight. He avenges wrongs, not just against the state, but against the people. He has a conscience, though he must sublimate feelings to accomplish a mission and is not as he says just a 'blunt instrument'.

His personal vices are set to make him look like he is less than worthy whereas he is more than worthy. Thus, Fleming mirrored himself. He was brilliant in his simplicity and that simplicity was convoluted.

James Bond is a great many things to many people. He could be an everyman in defining how we think of situations, how we react to either tyranny or embracing it.

Ok some of you think of him as the bludgeon of the state. One way to look at him. I see him as did Fleming. He is a man of few virtues except patriotism and courage. His job calls upon him to kill in the line of duty. He kills only those needing it aka the villains.

The plots are a mixture of fantasy and actual procedure. Fleming makes it entertaining because often the life of an intel op gets boring or at best is very hurry up and wait.

Vicarious entertainmet yes. Morality plays? I think they are to a degree.
Fleming used the books as a coping mechanism for encroaching middle age and marriage. Yet he actually lived some of the stories again masterfully mixed with fantasy and plenty of fiction.

We have real life heroes. Yet the literary/cinematic reach and can teach on a broad scale. They can be a gateway to lead people to the reality of a situation.

Heroes can be drawn from history specifically as in those who have died for Freedom and those who established our Republic. They can be based in historical context yet license is given to tell a tale.

History can become legend and legend can become myth. It is up to us to gain the core values, to see where the story goes. Keep digging.

I'm not reading more into James Bond than is there. The sun doesn't rise and set for me with those stories.

But they can be food for thought. There might be an inkling of the fight between good and evil. After all life is lived on all levels, ie body, mind psyche (from god or outside us) and spirit.

Remember, most knights were not nor are they now saints. Very earthy and flawed, as are all of us to a degree.

We must resist deifying our heroes. But we must also draw from them the inspiration to continue and set forth in reality to right the wrongs that oppress us. We must look to those best qualities and strive to be the best we can be.

Having some guys and gals on the inside as it were can't hurt. Skilled agents who are loyal to Freedom, who want to Restore the Republic can do a lot of good.

So lose yourself in the world of James Bond for a couple of hours. Then come back to reality and realize we just might share those traits he bore.

Patriotism and courage.

Throw in faith and you have an unbeatable combination.

It's My Life

I'm not a big fan of Bon Jovi. He's an antigun liberal, that being a deciding factor.

But the song It's My Life has a ring to it and seems appropriate for Veteran's Day.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k3jmef6sffA

The movies depicted are of course fiction though the first is modeled after real events in the battle for Bataan.

I remember I had a classmate in grade school whose Dad was a survivor of the Death March.

He was a quiet unassuming guy. His son was a good kid. So it goes.

When I die as it were or whatever you want to call it, I'm requesting they play the slow version particularly.

I take credit for myself whatever that may be.

If those after me want to celebrate my life so be it.

I'd rather they live their own lives.

If I have given them the wherewithal, then it's up to them.

It's their lives.

Novel Idea

Now I'm writing books. They are novels to be specific (echoing my English and History teachers/profs).

I'm not going into much detail since they are ongoing and I guard my copyright. They started out as kind of a dare to myself. It's also a response to my daughter, voracious reader of all things vampire, to write a 'vampire' story, with my twist to it. And there will be a Freedom theme.

I've been writing for quite a while. This blog is just one place, but an important one for me. It's given me courage and has helped develop my skills. It is a place that I can express my feelings and resolve concerning the Republic and what I believe we should do to Restore the Republic and to right all the wrongs running rampant today.

BTW I'm going to open another blog soon where you will find my stories etc. Not that this place isn't appropriate for them. I'd rather have a separate stage for my works.

When these novels (It's developed from two to a three story arc then to a fourth and now, gasp, a fifth retro) get published, they may not be the quintessential TEOTWAWKI, but they will have elements both surprising and I hope entertaining as well as informative and thought provoking.

At least, you can't say I'm at a loss for words lol!

It's been an exercise as well to see how I do writing books as opposed to scripts. These books will however be developed into scripts too!

For weal or woe, I've plunged into this. It is exhilerating. It's energized me and I have never felt so alive re my work or purpose.

As to how they are received, well that's up to anyone who reads them.

I will let all know when they are available.

I hope they provoke thought, entertain, perhaps shock some in the right way, not luridly and give a message of hope for people everywhere.

Eke 2

To gain or supplement with great effort or difficulty. To increase or make last by being economical.

For me, to chip away until I have sculpted the work of art at hand. To make use of the chips in another project, so there is very little waste.

I sculpt with words from the clay of my mind. It takes skill, born of time and tribulation as well as triumph.

It takes experience, whatever roads I've travelled so far and whomever I've encountered count.

My life path has taught me to make something from nearly nothing.

That's a quality that may well come in handy on all levels and very practical ones soon.

Fabian Socialists work constantly, slowly to undermine and destroy our Freedom. If they suffer a setback, they figure they have time. Gradual gain is the name of the game.

I've suggested we fight an enemy that never sleeps. therefore we must sleep less. And as they have DEconstructed, let us REconstruct, eking out not just an existance, but our future.

Be patient and resolute on the side of light!

Yin Yang

Republicans and Democrats.

People still fall for the polarization scam. One's good and the other's evil, from either viewpoint. Sheesh!

I guess Lincoln's old bit about fooling the people applies here. No further comment on the 16th President at this time. Some people can be fooled all the time, or else we would not have the idiotic contention we experience and so piquantly at elections.

I have said before and will say again and again, that one of the tactics used to control people is to keep them divided.

Opposites are a constant however. Obviously it is for more than variety that we have them. Male and female are the best example I'd say. Without both sexes there would be no humanity. Good and evil, well, that's a big kettle of fish. But one thing is clear. The dynamic of the fight between good and evil is part of the fabric of humanity.

I'm not gonna try to elaborate on all the nuances. Again, this blog is not the place for that. I'd have enough material again to do several papers or even theses complete with footnotes on all the ins and outs.

Yin and yang is another example. It has several subtexts. Not only good and evil, though that can be subdivided even more from Eastern religion/philosophy. And here is not the place for a study of comparative religions. Nor who is right. I have my beliefs, so do you. If you want Freedom of religion, better realize united we stand, divided we fall.

I talk of these things merely as I have done before. It is to get some who have not been thinking to do so, and to add whatever perspective I can offer.

Part of the point of this exercise is to show that indeed there are differences. Yeah the cliche is how boring it would be if all were the same. It would be more than that. Without innate differences, we would lack that singular quality of the Republic. That is individuality. And combined with free will, we choose to live for a common purpose. From many one is more than our motto. It is a testament to the fact that people can pull together for Freedom.

For if we are Free, then individuality is secured. It's a perfect circle.

And many differences as with male and female, if not equal can complement.

IOU

Nothing.

The world does NOT owe you a living.

Want Money etc? Get it the old fashioned way; earn it.

I'm not talking of venture capital or a loan that can be paid back.

I'm not talking of parental obligations. Nor am I talking of getting someone in a position to help himself.

If you get a loan, be prepared to pay it back.

If you get a grant, be worthy of its use. It doesn't have to be earth shaking. Just do, as in do, what is required as a kept promise to use the money for its intended use.

If you think the way I do, spread the word. Reeducate the reeducated. If people have been programmed they can be deprogrammed. Might be loborious, even onerous, but every soul won back from the stupidity of collectivism is a soul who can help.

Let it be like a small brushfire in the minds of men as Sam Adams said. They will connect and erupt into a purging flame.

Even reminds me of that line, paraphrased and extended, from Scarecrow of Romney Marsh where Dr. Syn talks of tiny cuts at tyranny. Little pinpricks of resistance as it were, that alone would be futile. But together and adding up become a hundred then a thousand then thousands and so on til tyranny is bled dry.

IOU nothing. Except to do my best to bring back Freedom and it's mate Responsibility.

IOU a helping hand in helping to bring this Republic back.

It's all you owe me

Get going.

Comes The Morning

After darkness comes light.

In olden days, the fires fended off fear and evil, and dawn was anxiously awaited.

Finally, dawn came, the vigil over. But what then? I wonder if people made plans to use the daylight.

For as the day rolls on, it becomes apparent that night is coming again. It is a constant cycle.

Day by day it's easy to just anticipate then get lost.

I suggest one makes use of the moment. Work in both day and night.

For, past the analogies and metaphors is reality.

Day follows night follows day til the end of time.

If it sounds like I'm talking in circles, I am. We chase our tails or we work on what's before us, within time.

After all the hubbub, and results, what will be done?

Will there be smug satisfaction, MOS?

Now is the time.

Either we use it or lose it.

And anticipation becomes just a hollow hope instead of full sharp action.