This Iran is stronger stuff is making me sick. The reason that Iran is spending all their resources rattling their sword is that if a major democracy springs up in Iraq, they loose. The Persian people, already bent low by an oppressive regime, will not stay bowed when they see their neighbor prosper under the gift America gave them, democracy. Iran is in panic.
I said all that to say this. Which Rice do you trust? Condoleezza Rice or Susan Rice.
Who’s Susan Rice? you ask. Raised in Washington DC daughter of a bureaucrat, played sports in school, Studied history in collage, got her masters and doctorate in philosophy, and achieved the high office of Assistant Secretary of State in charge of African Affairs in the Clinton administration. (Democrats have a glass ceiling for minority staffers) She is currently on leave from the Brookings institute to serve as foreign affairs advisor to the Obama campaign. (She held the same position for Dukakis and Kerry, third times a charm) Susan rice is busy telling everyone who will listen, that the Bush foreign policy is abysmal and that McCain is just like him, this unbiased opinion is being broadcast via satellite around the globe. Armadinajad is delighted, which is the kind of diplomacy Obama endorses.
Then you have Condee. She's got ten years experience over Susan. During Daddy Bush’s administration she served as the Soviet and Eastern European Affairs Advisor during the Soviet dissolution and German reunification. Taking leave from her post as Political Science professor at Stanford to become the Secretary of State, (Second African American, second woman and first African American woman to hold the office) she was National Security Advisor. She pioneered transformational diplomacy, with a focus on establishing democracies in the Middle East. (If being a foreign affairs advisor to a failed presidential run is a credential, Condoleezza held that position for Gary Hart in ‘84) She was a Democrat, but jumped ship because of the Carter administration’s foreign policy. (She was an intern at the time with the State Department)
As for her beginnings, she was raised in segregated Birmingham AL. Her father was a Presbyterian minister who worked at the High School as a guidance counselor. Her mom taught music, science and oratory at the same school. Condoleezza began her studies in French, ballet and the piano at age three. Her parents felt that the civil rights movement was full of uneducated leaders that reinforced the attitudes of those who would keep them down. They believed that working twice as hard to overcome the limitations built into the system was the path to victory. Her educational accolades are too numerous for this humble blog, and her business and political achievements dwarf her scholastic accomplishments. If you want my vote, Condoleezza blows Susan's doors off in the Rice race.
So if you hear Susan Rice posing as a pundit, or witness Barack on the stump berating Bush’s foreign policy, consider the source. Susan Rice is a minors player hoping to get the call to the big league, Condoleezza is an All Star who regularly hits it out of the park.
Sheriff Bart
I went to a meet-n-greet last night. Boatloads of shrimp cocktail and other finger food. It was to introduce Sheriff Bart to Bellingham. They had a great fruit tray and several types of sandwiches. Dexter was there, and they had those little pickled asparagus spears wrapped in ham and cream cheese. Geri Hawn was there as well. The shrimp cocktail was really good.
Okay, I’m kiding......maybe. Sheriff Bart is running for the second congressional seat in Washington State against Rick Larsen. He was the Sheriff of Snohomish County when Larsen was on the County Counsel, so he knows his opponent well. The fact that Larsen claims to be a moderate but votes like an ultraliberal is no surprise to Sheriff Bart. Now the Snohomish County Sheriff that has been retired by term limits has his hat in the Congressional ring. His main point is that people have good reason not to trust congress. They spend like drunken sailors, (having been one of those, I know of what he speaks), they do nothing to solve real problems while arguing for hours over things like steroids in Major League Baseball. Sheriff Bart shows some real promise and plans to visit Whatcom County often in the coming months.
So how important is it that we support Sheriff Bart? His opponent has bottomless pockets. Those special interests that he has blessed with substantial tax payer dollars through earmarks, (which he brags about), want to keep him in position to give them more. His opponent worships at Speaker Pelosi’s feet, he's one of the most liberal congressmen in Washington. The second congressional district is not liberal and is not represented by Rick Larsen. That’s why I wrote a check to help get Sheriff Bart started. I don’t have a lot of money, compared to my normal situation I’m broke, but something needs to be done and no one who cares should sit on the sidelines.
I mentioned before, Geri Hawn was there also. Who’s Geri Hawn you ask. He’s running against the truly moderate State Representative from the 42nd district, Kelli Linville. The problem with Representative Linville is that she has little effect, and insures the liberal majority. Geri Hawn is a real sharp guy, he teaches at Western ( he has an MBA), drills with the Navy Reserve and is a renowned management consultant. He offers some true business savvy to Olympia, and will work well with our next Governor, who I will not mention by name but, his initials are Dino. Geri is having a golf tournament up at Homestead in Lynden May 30th.
Finally I talked to Dexter about all things bloggy, who we read, what we want to accomplish and why we care. It was a lovely evening, I highly recommend you attend such things if you get the chance.
Okay, I’m kiding......maybe. Sheriff Bart is running for the second congressional seat in Washington State against Rick Larsen. He was the Sheriff of Snohomish County when Larsen was on the County Counsel, so he knows his opponent well. The fact that Larsen claims to be a moderate but votes like an ultraliberal is no surprise to Sheriff Bart. Now the Snohomish County Sheriff that has been retired by term limits has his hat in the Congressional ring. His main point is that people have good reason not to trust congress. They spend like drunken sailors, (having been one of those, I know of what he speaks), they do nothing to solve real problems while arguing for hours over things like steroids in Major League Baseball. Sheriff Bart shows some real promise and plans to visit Whatcom County often in the coming months.
So how important is it that we support Sheriff Bart? His opponent has bottomless pockets. Those special interests that he has blessed with substantial tax payer dollars through earmarks, (which he brags about), want to keep him in position to give them more. His opponent worships at Speaker Pelosi’s feet, he's one of the most liberal congressmen in Washington. The second congressional district is not liberal and is not represented by Rick Larsen. That’s why I wrote a check to help get Sheriff Bart started. I don’t have a lot of money, compared to my normal situation I’m broke, but something needs to be done and no one who cares should sit on the sidelines.
I mentioned before, Geri Hawn was there also. Who’s Geri Hawn you ask. He’s running against the truly moderate State Representative from the 42nd district, Kelli Linville. The problem with Representative Linville is that she has little effect, and insures the liberal majority. Geri Hawn is a real sharp guy, he teaches at Western ( he has an MBA), drills with the Navy Reserve and is a renowned management consultant. He offers some true business savvy to Olympia, and will work well with our next Governor, who I will not mention by name but, his initials are Dino. Geri is having a golf tournament up at Homestead in Lynden May 30th.
Finally I talked to Dexter about all things bloggy, who we read, what we want to accomplish and why we care. It was a lovely evening, I highly recommend you attend such things if you get the chance.
Burkas
Hypocrite: I don’t know much about the relationship between Barack Obama and his wife Michelle (not knowing much about Obama is the real issue). But my guess is, that if Barack told Michelle to submit to Shariah law, she’d b’slap him into the afterlife. Meanwhile Obama fully supports his cousin Raila Odinga who has pledged to Sheik Abdullah Abdi, chairman of the National Muslim Leaders Forum of Kenya, that within days of winning the presidential election in Kenya he will impose Shariah law on large regions of the country.
http://eakenya.org/newsevents/article.htm?id=8
Does Obama support the imposition of Shariah law over large regions of a country? (not knowing much about Obama is the real issue).
The above referenced agreement doesn’t grant freedom of religion to Muslims in Kenya, it declares geographical regions of Kenya as Muslim territory and imposes Shariah law on every man woman and child in those regions. Would Barack turn some districts in Detroit over to the Muslims to run as they pleased. Could they declare sanctuary Muslim areas where suspected terrorists would be protected. Would they demand Shariah Courts for the hearing of all cases involving Muslims in or out or these Muslim regions. (not knowing much about Obama is the real issue).
Obama promises change. The government Raila Odinga offered Kenya was really different, and was rejected by the voters. Of course they declared the election rigged and rioted. Obama went to Kenya to help his cousin campaign, he spoke of the corruption of the government and the need for change. He didn’t mention that the change he offered was Shariah law. (not knowing much about Obama is the real issue). http://www.sodahead.com/blog/2048/
Will Obama bring about the kind of changes that his supporters imagine? Or will we see a lot of women unwillingly wearing burkas?
http://eakenya.org/newsevents/article.htm?id=8
Does Obama support the imposition of Shariah law over large regions of a country? (not knowing much about Obama is the real issue).
The above referenced agreement doesn’t grant freedom of religion to Muslims in Kenya, it declares geographical regions of Kenya as Muslim territory and imposes Shariah law on every man woman and child in those regions. Would Barack turn some districts in Detroit over to the Muslims to run as they pleased. Could they declare sanctuary Muslim areas where suspected terrorists would be protected. Would they demand Shariah Courts for the hearing of all cases involving Muslims in or out or these Muslim regions. (not knowing much about Obama is the real issue).
Obama promises change. The government Raila Odinga offered Kenya was really different, and was rejected by the voters. Of course they declared the election rigged and rioted. Obama went to Kenya to help his cousin campaign, he spoke of the corruption of the government and the need for change. He didn’t mention that the change he offered was Shariah law. (not knowing much about Obama is the real issue). http://www.sodahead.com/blog/2048/
Will Obama bring about the kind of changes that his supporters imagine? Or will we see a lot of women unwillingly wearing burkas?
Race Club
I admit that I know very little about Nascar. Do they have trading cards? If they do, do you call them race cards? How many race cards do you have to collect to have a riot?
Hillary is right, Obama is the weak candidate in the general election. I am still convinced that she should be the Democrat’s nominee, but I now see that aspect of the liberal culture that I overlooked heretofore. The Race Club. If the blacks don’t get their way they’ll riot. We’ve seen it before, mostly applied to juries. Right now Al Sharpton is waving the Race Club at the New York courts, recently he ran down to Jena to swing it. Now the Race Club is poised above the heads of the super delegates, if Barack is not the candidate, all he-double-hockysticks will break loose.
So, does it matter that when the general election comes around, Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton will be praying for a McCain victory? No, we’ve heard their song before, "the man" has got to keep his "N-word" in his place.
If Obama were to become president the Race Club wavers would be out of work. But, if the Black candidate showed every sign of winning the prize, only to have it snatched away by "Whitey", then the club will swing on for another generation.
Hillary, it’s not your fault. You’re running a great race, but your up against the intimidators of the left. If you "steal" the nomination the race biaters could cry foul, but your a girl. They need an old white guy to cheat the poor black man out of the White House to really get their constituency fired up.
Obama is hand picked to be the fall guy. In 2002, didn't he go to Kenya to help out his cousin in a loosing attempt to displace the elected government? Who better to bring that kind of chaos to our shores.
The "Black Panthers" are standing by. Power to the people man.
Hillary is right, Obama is the weak candidate in the general election. I am still convinced that she should be the Democrat’s nominee, but I now see that aspect of the liberal culture that I overlooked heretofore. The Race Club. If the blacks don’t get their way they’ll riot. We’ve seen it before, mostly applied to juries. Right now Al Sharpton is waving the Race Club at the New York courts, recently he ran down to Jena to swing it. Now the Race Club is poised above the heads of the super delegates, if Barack is not the candidate, all he-double-hockysticks will break loose.
So, does it matter that when the general election comes around, Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton will be praying for a McCain victory? No, we’ve heard their song before, "the man" has got to keep his "N-word" in his place.
If Obama were to become president the Race Club wavers would be out of work. But, if the Black candidate showed every sign of winning the prize, only to have it snatched away by "Whitey", then the club will swing on for another generation.
Hillary, it’s not your fault. You’re running a great race, but your up against the intimidators of the left. If you "steal" the nomination the race biaters could cry foul, but your a girl. They need an old white guy to cheat the poor black man out of the White House to really get their constituency fired up.
Obama is hand picked to be the fall guy. In 2002, didn't he go to Kenya to help out his cousin in a loosing attempt to displace the elected government? Who better to bring that kind of chaos to our shores.
The "Black Panthers" are standing by. Power to the people man.
A Few Questions I Have
Access:
The world of lobbyists and special interest revolve around access. Hollywood types feather their caps with it, business movers and shakers posture for it, those with political aspirations require it. Remember the Clinton years when access was for sale. Now I ask, Who will have access in the Obama White house? The McCain White house? The Clinton II White house?
McCain has been in Washington so long that his access list is well known. Hillary will most likely run the White house the way she did the last time she lived there. I think Obama is the scariest candidate in this respect. The people who held his hand and helped him break into politics will expect access. Maybe it’s promised, at the very least it’s owed.
Many pundits are posing the question, who would McCain most like to run against? Current polls show Hillary ahead. I don’t care who McCain hopes will win the Democrats nomination. I want Hillary to win. I’m starting to realize that Obama is dangerous after all, but mostly I want the new voters that registered for Obama to learn to stay home. They stayed home before, It shouldn’t be hard for them to feel like their vote doesn’t count anyway so why bother.
Better that Democrats don’t vote than any scenario I can think of.
Being entirely scatter brained I’ll jump without hesitation to a different subject. I listened to Pastor Wright’s Press Club Speech, He talked about the unique African American Culture. I wondered, what is White American Culture? Ben Franklin, Abraham Lincoln, John Wayne, or what? I thought about public education and its inequity, than I thought about the old adage, "you can lead a horse to water....." But what if you tried the opposite? Say you decided that you weren’t going to let a horse have any water. You better build some strong fences. Pastor Wright accuses White culture of trying to keep inter city kids from an education. I think the adage and its reverse apply. A kid that wants to learn will, a kid whose culture tells him it’s not cool to learn won’t. Black culture is not just different, it’s self destructive.
The world of lobbyists and special interest revolve around access. Hollywood types feather their caps with it, business movers and shakers posture for it, those with political aspirations require it. Remember the Clinton years when access was for sale. Now I ask, Who will have access in the Obama White house? The McCain White house? The Clinton II White house?
McCain has been in Washington so long that his access list is well known. Hillary will most likely run the White house the way she did the last time she lived there. I think Obama is the scariest candidate in this respect. The people who held his hand and helped him break into politics will expect access. Maybe it’s promised, at the very least it’s owed.
Many pundits are posing the question, who would McCain most like to run against? Current polls show Hillary ahead. I don’t care who McCain hopes will win the Democrats nomination. I want Hillary to win. I’m starting to realize that Obama is dangerous after all, but mostly I want the new voters that registered for Obama to learn to stay home. They stayed home before, It shouldn’t be hard for them to feel like their vote doesn’t count anyway so why bother.
Better that Democrats don’t vote than any scenario I can think of.
Being entirely scatter brained I’ll jump without hesitation to a different subject. I listened to Pastor Wright’s Press Club Speech, He talked about the unique African American Culture. I wondered, what is White American Culture? Ben Franklin, Abraham Lincoln, John Wayne, or what? I thought about public education and its inequity, than I thought about the old adage, "you can lead a horse to water....." But what if you tried the opposite? Say you decided that you weren’t going to let a horse have any water. You better build some strong fences. Pastor Wright accuses White culture of trying to keep inter city kids from an education. I think the adage and its reverse apply. A kid that wants to learn will, a kid whose culture tells him it’s not cool to learn won’t. Black culture is not just different, it’s self destructive.
Am I Allowed To Talk About This?
I’ve heard a lot today about the need for dialogue on the subject of racism. Most of those speaking seemed to feel that a dialogue should bee them telling everyone else what the facts are. I’ve wondered about this stuff for a long time, and I hope I paid attention because this is what I’ve come away with.
1. Only the recipient of the offense is qualified to identify the situation as offensive.
e.g. Vogue’s recent cover.
2. Caucasian people are not a race and thus can not be the victims of racism.
e.g. Duke lacrosse.
3. Sound bites from the presidents speeches are sufficient to identify his positions. But, we must hear the entire sermon and maybe a whole series of sermons to under stand the Black Church.
Let me stop hear a minute. One of these sound bites, as I understood it, claims that AIDS is a genocide plot of the United States Government. (I didn’t know Jimmy Carter was into that sort of thing.) Still I don’t see how further context could change my opinion. That’s pure paranoia.
I remember when Rodney King happened that I believed that the cops acted more out of fear than out of racism. I had personal experiences on which to base this opinion, but when I shared them with any black person I ran into I was told I couldn’t know what it was to be black. Correct, any more than they could understand what it’s like to be a scared white cop. Cops of all colors generally like to be in control of things. When the means that they employ to get control don’t work, they get a little uncomfortable. When the person they are trying to control continues to attack, adrenaline takes over. I’m not saying that it went down that way, only suggesting an alternative to the race card.
What the race baiters in this country have to figure out is that there are more sides to the story than theirs.
4. I have never met a black person that I didn’t like. (Check that, when a group of three black guys knocked me down and kicked me in Thailand for no other reason than that they could, I didn’t have much love for them. But, aside from those guys I like most black people.)
5. I used to think that there was such a thing as racism in the black community, over the last week I’ve been informed I’m wrong. (So I won’t tell you that I think Obama is a racist.)
6. The only bright spot in this weeks discussion was on a financial talk show on Saturday morning. A successful black investor said something to the effect that when a young black person breaks into the business world he had better get the chip off his shoulder before it gets in his way. (I have always felt sorry for those black people who let their culture force them to fail)
7. Finally, "He’s not really black." what’s up with that. Can I say some white guy that doesn’t behave exactly according to stereotype (typical white woman) isn’t really white.
1. Only the recipient of the offense is qualified to identify the situation as offensive.
e.g. Vogue’s recent cover.
2. Caucasian people are not a race and thus can not be the victims of racism.
e.g. Duke lacrosse.
3. Sound bites from the presidents speeches are sufficient to identify his positions. But, we must hear the entire sermon and maybe a whole series of sermons to under stand the Black Church.
Let me stop hear a minute. One of these sound bites, as I understood it, claims that AIDS is a genocide plot of the United States Government. (I didn’t know Jimmy Carter was into that sort of thing.) Still I don’t see how further context could change my opinion. That’s pure paranoia.
I remember when Rodney King happened that I believed that the cops acted more out of fear than out of racism. I had personal experiences on which to base this opinion, but when I shared them with any black person I ran into I was told I couldn’t know what it was to be black. Correct, any more than they could understand what it’s like to be a scared white cop. Cops of all colors generally like to be in control of things. When the means that they employ to get control don’t work, they get a little uncomfortable. When the person they are trying to control continues to attack, adrenaline takes over. I’m not saying that it went down that way, only suggesting an alternative to the race card.
What the race baiters in this country have to figure out is that there are more sides to the story than theirs.
4. I have never met a black person that I didn’t like. (Check that, when a group of three black guys knocked me down and kicked me in Thailand for no other reason than that they could, I didn’t have much love for them. But, aside from those guys I like most black people.)
5. I used to think that there was such a thing as racism in the black community, over the last week I’ve been informed I’m wrong. (So I won’t tell you that I think Obama is a racist.)
6. The only bright spot in this weeks discussion was on a financial talk show on Saturday morning. A successful black investor said something to the effect that when a young black person breaks into the business world he had better get the chip off his shoulder before it gets in his way. (I have always felt sorry for those black people who let their culture force them to fail)
7. Finally, "He’s not really black." what’s up with that. Can I say some white guy that doesn’t behave exactly according to stereotype (typical white woman) isn’t really white.
Making It Up As She Goes Along
I’ve just spent a couple of hours trying to find a clip that I saw twice last night. That’s why I say I don’t have time to blog, real blogging should be backed up by research. Please, don't confuse me for a real blogger. I’ll just say what I think and let y’all tell me I’m wrong.
So, last night I saw a clip in which Hillary was answering a question about pressure for her to drop out. She responded. "22% think I should step down, 22% think Barack should and 62% think we should just keep going at it."
This struck me and stuck in my head because it highlights one important point.
6% of those questioned voted twice. (must be Democrats)
Washington D.C. math can always squeeze out a few extra percentage point to support their position. (must be Democrats)
Hillary just makes things up as she goes. (must be a Democrat)
So, last night I saw a clip in which Hillary was answering a question about pressure for her to drop out. She responded. "22% think I should step down, 22% think Barack should and 62% think we should just keep going at it."
This struck me and stuck in my head because it highlights one important point.
6% of those questioned voted twice. (must be Democrats)
Washington D.C. math can always squeeze out a few extra percentage point to support their position. (must be Democrats)
Hillary just makes things up as she goes. (must be a Democrat)
Fairy Tales & Dreams
Being the First Lady prepares Hillary for the presidency, like being married to John would qualify Yoko to take Lennon’s place on a Beatles reunion tour. J.H. Bol
Hillary brought her daughter along on her perilous trip to Bosnia even though they were warned how dangerous it was. These briefings were so scary that they caused Hillary to imagine running crouched over under a hail of sniper fire, so she figured she should have Chelsea share the experience.
Obama admits that he took objection to some of his ex-pastors words, so he exposed his small daughters to them.
Barack and Hillary, obviously, agree that you shouldn’t over protect your children.
I have heard some wonderful fairy tales this election season, I even told a few myself, but non as fanciful as the one I heard a few weeks ago. I’ve been milling it over and so I haven’t written for a while, because I feared that if I missed the moral of the story I’d miss something important.
Here it is.
Someone told me that when the delegates to the Republican National Convention got to the Twin Cities, they would suddenly realize that they didn’t have to represent the voters of their districts and thus could cast their vote for the candidate that they liked. Then I watched an organized effort by the Ron Paul supporters to seize as many delegate positions to the State Convention as they could. They were well aware that at the local precinct caucus level, they had mustered less than forty percent at best. But they felt, for some reason, that the Huckabee supporters that had out numbered them at that level didn’t deserve to be represented at the State level.
So I ask myself.
Did they do this same kind of thing all over the State? All over the Country? Do they hope to send a majority of delegates to the National Convention and make Ron Paul the National nominee?
I shudder to think. The Democrats are committing suicide, but not to be outdone the Ron Paul people plan to destroy the Republicans chances at the White House first.
I like the Ron Paul people, but he hasn’t got more than ten percent in the most favorable poles. He can’t win. If they get to Minneapolis, I hope they'll represent the people at the precinct level who gave them the opportunity to go.
Wake Up
Super Delegates. If you want to talk about the democratic system or making sure that every vote counts, don’t look to the DNC. It makes sense to them to have a bunch of special voters who achieved their elite status by who knows what means, having the power to endow their party’s nomination on whom ever they think will benefit them personally. Hillary, in my estimation, is likely to buy, bribe, blackmail and threaten any and all of them to get what she feels she is entitled to. (Talk about the entitlement culture)
Those who were involved in the institution of Super Delegates, are squirming around the question, "what were you thinking." They know the answer, they just can’t figure out how to give it with out looking like what they are, the elite. For the last fifty years the D’s have kept their slaves and peons in line bowing at the alter of promised favor, certain that the cat could never get out of the bag. But kitty dun broke free, they can only hope that their constituency has been charmed into being too blind to see.
It will do us no good to try to point at the cat, your standard Democrat Kool-Aid drinker has been well trained to look the opposite direction when they see us point. They won’t hear us if we shout, "Hey! you guys are being cheated." They’re programmed to believe that only Republicans can be corrupt. So, we can only hope that this time some few or bunch of them wake up and find their way to the "right" side.
I wish I could get all our pundits to line up on a single theme like the other side does. (Not much chance of that, our people think for themselves.) But a hypnotic drone seems to reach the mind of the D’s. We should all stand facing the same direction and shout in unison, "Wake Up!"
Oh well! I guess that once you’ve acquired a taste for Kool-Aid, it’s hard to crave the flavor of the truth.
I would love to point out that many of them would be better represented by Republicans. God fearing, gun toting, making our own way while honoring our nation and our homes, Republicans. People who don’t want to cookie-cut the world into anything and will not be cookie-cut by anybody else. Americans that desire to worship when a were and how they like, patriots that believe that despite its flaws America is the greatest nation under God.
If I could get one message through to a democrat it would be this: If anybody other than the Democratic Party is actually victimizing you to the point that you need the government to save you, then the government as it has always been will help you out. Nothing needs to change, right thinking people disapprove of bullies. The problem is that if you stop needing the government to lift you up, you’ll stop voting for the party that promises and never delivers help. The Democrat leadership can’t give you what they promise because once you get it you won’t need them anymore.
Those who were involved in the institution of Super Delegates, are squirming around the question, "what were you thinking." They know the answer, they just can’t figure out how to give it with out looking like what they are, the elite. For the last fifty years the D’s have kept their slaves and peons in line bowing at the alter of promised favor, certain that the cat could never get out of the bag. But kitty dun broke free, they can only hope that their constituency has been charmed into being too blind to see.
It will do us no good to try to point at the cat, your standard Democrat Kool-Aid drinker has been well trained to look the opposite direction when they see us point. They won’t hear us if we shout, "Hey! you guys are being cheated." They’re programmed to believe that only Republicans can be corrupt. So, we can only hope that this time some few or bunch of them wake up and find their way to the "right" side.
I wish I could get all our pundits to line up on a single theme like the other side does. (Not much chance of that, our people think for themselves.) But a hypnotic drone seems to reach the mind of the D’s. We should all stand facing the same direction and shout in unison, "Wake Up!"
Oh well! I guess that once you’ve acquired a taste for Kool-Aid, it’s hard to crave the flavor of the truth.
I would love to point out that many of them would be better represented by Republicans. God fearing, gun toting, making our own way while honoring our nation and our homes, Republicans. People who don’t want to cookie-cut the world into anything and will not be cookie-cut by anybody else. Americans that desire to worship when a were and how they like, patriots that believe that despite its flaws America is the greatest nation under God.
If I could get one message through to a democrat it would be this: If anybody other than the Democratic Party is actually victimizing you to the point that you need the government to save you, then the government as it has always been will help you out. Nothing needs to change, right thinking people disapprove of bullies. The problem is that if you stop needing the government to lift you up, you’ll stop voting for the party that promises and never delivers help. The Democrat leadership can’t give you what they promise because once you get it you won’t need them anymore.
When The Phone Rings At Three In The Morning
Hillary picks up the phone and hears.....
"Hey, it’s me Bill. I’m down at the titty bar. Can you send somebody over with a buttload of ones?"
"Hey, it’s me Bill. I’m down at the titty bar. Can you send somebody over with a buttload of ones?"
Outside The Box
So, how can McCain win the White House without the conservative wing of the party? Easy. He needs to get on the phone and cut a deal with Obama. Say, "Hey buddy, if Hillary steals the nomination from you, would you consider being number two on my ticket?"
Think about it. Teddy will come over, he likes McCain and Obama, Joey Lieberman will be smiling right along. The Hispanics love McCain, the blacks love Obama, that leaves only the feminists and the unions for Clinton if she can hold them.
Would Hillary’s face crack from the sudden change of expression when she gets the news. Imagine the big smile on her face when she steals the nomination at the convention, and turns to ask Obama if he’s willing to jump into her back seat. If he answers, "No thanks, I’m going to be on the McCain ticket." The realization that not only has she no chance of beating such a combination, but that she's going to be beaten so badly that she can never try again will form in her head. Bang! a look of horror will replace her smile so quickly that her stiff face muscles will surely snap.
Now I know you’ll say that mixed party tickets are unheard of in today's political environment, and I guess that’s true. But let’s think out side the box. Both Obama and McCain talk about reaching across the isle to get things done. The press will be so enamored that it will be all they talk about. But most importantly will be the numbers. About twenty to thirty percent of the population is so partisan on each side that they couldn’t bring themselves to vote for a duel party ticket. So, there has got to be more than fifty percent that will say, what the heck, let’s vote for change. (Cinton never got over 50%)
The down side: Assassination of either or both is a big possichancity, so we better really like the Speaker of the House. McCain’s age might be more of a consideration (except the ticket won’t need conservatives to win.) We won’t be getting a Republican administration (like we were with McCain anyway.) Barack gets the experience he needs to take the White House himself next time.
On the side: Vice Presidents have about as much influence as the President gives them. McCain will be in charge long enough to set an Iraq policy that Obama can live with. Obama can go to the hill and break the dead locks on the big issues. The rest of the world will see it as a step in the right direction.
The Upside: Politics as usual is finished. Hillary, in an attempt to win anyway will destroy the Democratic party. McCain appoints the judges, McCain selects the cabinet, McCain signs or vetoes the bills and McCain is Commander and Chief. There’s a really good chance the Clintons will finally be out of the picture for good.
So, why would Barack take the Job? Better chance of being president in four years than if he signs on with Hillary. If he turns down the offer, the world will know that he really doesn’t want change and Bi-partisanship, so his whole image is shot. If McCain cuts the right kind of deal, so Obama gets a nice piece of the leadership pie, he can pad his resume.
I plan on sharing this idea with a Vice Chair of the RNC I know. It’s so far out the big boys won’t get it right away, but it’ll grow on them. When they figure out that they might take back the House and the Senate, that McCain will be assured of victory in November and finally, that voter turn out will be so huge that the local conservative candidates will have a better chance.
I’m telling you, this is big. Real big. WAY OUT Side The Box.
Think about it. Teddy will come over, he likes McCain and Obama, Joey Lieberman will be smiling right along. The Hispanics love McCain, the blacks love Obama, that leaves only the feminists and the unions for Clinton if she can hold them.
Would Hillary’s face crack from the sudden change of expression when she gets the news. Imagine the big smile on her face when she steals the nomination at the convention, and turns to ask Obama if he’s willing to jump into her back seat. If he answers, "No thanks, I’m going to be on the McCain ticket." The realization that not only has she no chance of beating such a combination, but that she's going to be beaten so badly that she can never try again will form in her head. Bang! a look of horror will replace her smile so quickly that her stiff face muscles will surely snap.
Now I know you’ll say that mixed party tickets are unheard of in today's political environment, and I guess that’s true. But let’s think out side the box. Both Obama and McCain talk about reaching across the isle to get things done. The press will be so enamored that it will be all they talk about. But most importantly will be the numbers. About twenty to thirty percent of the population is so partisan on each side that they couldn’t bring themselves to vote for a duel party ticket. So, there has got to be more than fifty percent that will say, what the heck, let’s vote for change. (Cinton never got over 50%)
The down side: Assassination of either or both is a big possichancity, so we better really like the Speaker of the House. McCain’s age might be more of a consideration (except the ticket won’t need conservatives to win.) We won’t be getting a Republican administration (like we were with McCain anyway.) Barack gets the experience he needs to take the White House himself next time.
On the side: Vice Presidents have about as much influence as the President gives them. McCain will be in charge long enough to set an Iraq policy that Obama can live with. Obama can go to the hill and break the dead locks on the big issues. The rest of the world will see it as a step in the right direction.
The Upside: Politics as usual is finished. Hillary, in an attempt to win anyway will destroy the Democratic party. McCain appoints the judges, McCain selects the cabinet, McCain signs or vetoes the bills and McCain is Commander and Chief. There’s a really good chance the Clintons will finally be out of the picture for good.
So, why would Barack take the Job? Better chance of being president in four years than if he signs on with Hillary. If he turns down the offer, the world will know that he really doesn’t want change and Bi-partisanship, so his whole image is shot. If McCain cuts the right kind of deal, so Obama gets a nice piece of the leadership pie, he can pad his resume.
I plan on sharing this idea with a Vice Chair of the RNC I know. It’s so far out the big boys won’t get it right away, but it’ll grow on them. When they figure out that they might take back the House and the Senate, that McCain will be assured of victory in November and finally, that voter turn out will be so huge that the local conservative candidates will have a better chance.
I’m telling you, this is big. Real big. WAY OUT Side The Box.
I Have Faith In Hillary
Everyday I hear the media droning on about how John McCain has to demonstrate how conservative he is. I don’t believe I’ve ever doubted his conservative credentials. One of John McCain’s problems is that he has never been a team player and he needs the team to win.
As for me, I just can’t get over how much this all reminds me of Dole ‘96. Dole was a honored veteran, a senior senator, a well connected Washington insider and a big looser. If McCain can explain to me why he has any better chance of motivating the grass roots than Dole had, I’ll forget he isn’t a team player and join his team.
Alas, McCain can’t inspire the base. His opponents can, but he can’t. So we become what we have ridiculed in our opposition, a party bound together by our hatred for the other guys. How pathetic, we the party of ideas, the party of values, the party of ethics reduced to the party of "anybody but (fill in the blank).
Now I don’t want to surrender right off the bat, many dynamic local candidates will inspire voters across the land, and for the rest, I guess we can afford to loose most of our local and national republican representation. After all, Congressmen run every two years, maybe after two short years of total Democratic rule America will be so screwed up Republicans can retake the House.
I would prefer that we could forgo the "America will be so screwed up" part.
One more plug for Mike. I think that the hatred that the left has for Bush is a cancer. So many lifelong moderate Democrats are getting tired of making excuses for the whackos in charge of their party, that what we need is a candidate that will inspire the left to even greater levels of hate. Imagine a southern black voter being told that he should hate Huckabee because he believes in Jesus. No, if Huckabee was our candidate, I believe the left would alienate their own base.
But Huckabee has little chance of being our candidate, so my hope and faith is in Hillary. I have the utmost confidence that Hillary will tear the Democratic party in half before she abandons her aspirations. We might have a chance to sneak in a few of our people before they can recover.
As for me, I just can’t get over how much this all reminds me of Dole ‘96. Dole was a honored veteran, a senior senator, a well connected Washington insider and a big looser. If McCain can explain to me why he has any better chance of motivating the grass roots than Dole had, I’ll forget he isn’t a team player and join his team.
Alas, McCain can’t inspire the base. His opponents can, but he can’t. So we become what we have ridiculed in our opposition, a party bound together by our hatred for the other guys. How pathetic, we the party of ideas, the party of values, the party of ethics reduced to the party of "anybody but (fill in the blank).
Now I don’t want to surrender right off the bat, many dynamic local candidates will inspire voters across the land, and for the rest, I guess we can afford to loose most of our local and national republican representation. After all, Congressmen run every two years, maybe after two short years of total Democratic rule America will be so screwed up Republicans can retake the House.
I would prefer that we could forgo the "America will be so screwed up" part.
One more plug for Mike. I think that the hatred that the left has for Bush is a cancer. So many lifelong moderate Democrats are getting tired of making excuses for the whackos in charge of their party, that what we need is a candidate that will inspire the left to even greater levels of hate. Imagine a southern black voter being told that he should hate Huckabee because he believes in Jesus. No, if Huckabee was our candidate, I believe the left would alienate their own base.
But Huckabee has little chance of being our candidate, so my hope and faith is in Hillary. I have the utmost confidence that Hillary will tear the Democratic party in half before she abandons her aspirations. We might have a chance to sneak in a few of our people before they can recover.
Get A Clue
So why doesn’t John McCain just drop out of the race, if you count all the votes in the primaries so far, a lot more people voted for somebody else than voted for him. Unfortunately he won a couple of blue States and so he got a lot of delegates. Finally the multitude of candidates got out of the way and the "Non-McCain" votes started to line up, then the media started telling everyone that McCain was inevitable so you may as well support him. Get a clue McCain, republicans don’t want you, suspend your campaign.
What A Lovely Dream
February, Lincoln’s birthday, the party of Lincoln. I some times try to imagine what Lincoln was like. I’ll bet the phrase "lonely at the top" echoed around in his head. I don’t recall a picture or any image of him smiling, he carried the weight of a embattled nation on his shoulders. But as I think about Lincoln alone in the oval office I wonder was he really ever alone. I think he often pushed back his chair and turned around and knelt there to seek the face of God. I wonder if the floor was worn away by his bony knees.
Once again I long for a candidate that will ask the almighty for guidance. George W. Bush will be moving out of the oval office soon and I worry over his replacement. I feel like the concept of "humble themselves and pray" is totally foreign to Hillary, Obama and McCain. So I support Huckabee, who continues to test my faith in miracle comebacks. Am I being a zealot to want a man of God to lead this country? I don’t know, Rosy O’Donnell might consider me a threat to mankind, which is good. Any time I disagree with Rosy I am more assured that I’m right.
Huckabee requires great faith at this point. Obama is rolling like a fast freight toward the Democratic convention in Denver and Hillary is asking herself if she cares if she destroys the Democrat Party by stealing the nomination through political trickery. Or is she so stuck on herself that the good of the party never crosses her mind, it is all about her after all.
So my hope is built on my belief that the Democrats will be divided in November and once again my man Huckabee will be an asset. Think about the average black woman who can’t decide which democratic candidate to support, she would love to see a woman in the White House, but a Black man in the White House would be wonderful also. Then she hears Obama speak and she is inspired to believe. Then fast forward to the Democrat convention, Obama has the most delegates but somehow Hillary get the nomination. She can’t vote for Obama and she’s mad at Hillary for stealing the nomination, when suddenly she remembers that she is more than just female and black, she's religious. One Sunday morning her pastor turns the pulpit over to a white guy with a bass guitar, and the rest is history.
What a lovely dream. I’m entitled to have hope for the future as much as Obama supporters, aren’t I?
Once again I long for a candidate that will ask the almighty for guidance. George W. Bush will be moving out of the oval office soon and I worry over his replacement. I feel like the concept of "humble themselves and pray" is totally foreign to Hillary, Obama and McCain. So I support Huckabee, who continues to test my faith in miracle comebacks. Am I being a zealot to want a man of God to lead this country? I don’t know, Rosy O’Donnell might consider me a threat to mankind, which is good. Any time I disagree with Rosy I am more assured that I’m right.
Huckabee requires great faith at this point. Obama is rolling like a fast freight toward the Democratic convention in Denver and Hillary is asking herself if she cares if she destroys the Democrat Party by stealing the nomination through political trickery. Or is she so stuck on herself that the good of the party never crosses her mind, it is all about her after all.
So my hope is built on my belief that the Democrats will be divided in November and once again my man Huckabee will be an asset. Think about the average black woman who can’t decide which democratic candidate to support, she would love to see a woman in the White House, but a Black man in the White House would be wonderful also. Then she hears Obama speak and she is inspired to believe. Then fast forward to the Democrat convention, Obama has the most delegates but somehow Hillary get the nomination. She can’t vote for Obama and she’s mad at Hillary for stealing the nomination, when suddenly she remembers that she is more than just female and black, she's religious. One Sunday morning her pastor turns the pulpit over to a white guy with a bass guitar, and the rest is history.
What a lovely dream. I’m entitled to have hope for the future as much as Obama supporters, aren’t I?
Not so Fair & Balanced
I remember how I held out for anybody but Bob Dole, I was sure he was a looser. The Washington insiders told us we were being unreasonable to resist the inevitable candidacy of the Kansas Senator. I said then as I’m saying now that we haven’t put a Senator in the White House since J.F.K. People don’t trust Senators, they spend all their time making compromises.
Again, we are being chastised by the Washington elite, how dare we resist the Arizona Senator's well deserved coronation. It’s his turn after all. Bob Dole himself came to McCain’s defense. My gag reflex is once more trying to ignore reason, I will continue to support anyone else as long as they are in the race.
Today I saw something very interesting on the news, they showed both of the democrat candidates in Virginia making their bids for the voters of that state. I didn’t really listen to what they were saying, but I could tell why Obama is kicking her butt without hearing a word he had to say. In the foreground, to the sides and behind Senator Clinton were adoring supporters waving signs, that had in large print the letters H I L L A R Y. Then at the Obama rally, there weren’t any Obama signs, just his slogan "Believe." Later I heard a cut of an old Reagan speech, filled with themes of hope and pride in our great nation.
So again, I implore Mike Huckabee to find a message of hope and forget himself. Washington insiders are pretty stuck on themselves and couldn’t imagine taking their names off of their signs, but Huckabee as a man of God should easily find a way.
Reagan brought America under his vision. A great leader has a vision that his followers can rally around, a name is not a vision. What do you want our land of liberty to be like when Huckabee is the President? I’m waiting for him to tell me.
I can guess that I won’t like what McCain’s vision of compromise and a Hispanic majority on the public dime will be like. The McCain that gave labor unions the upper-hand in campaign finance, will give away anything to boost his ego. He doesn’t hear conservatives protesting his pantywaist treatment of illegals or terrorist captives, he is so wonderful in his own mind that he satisfied with his own opinion.
Now, to totally jump to a different track, Chris Wallace interviewed President George W. Bush today on the Fox News. Wallace was so sure that the President was going to come out and say that he supported McCain, that it biased all of his questions. Then he and all his colleagues seemed to hear the President say that everybody should fall in line behind McCain. I listened to the interview twice, the first time I didn’t hear the President say He thought McCain had it in the bag. The second time I paid more attention, I got the impression that the President was hopping that Huckabee could somehow pull off a miracle. I’m sure it was my bias, so I’m sure that the Fox commentators heard what they heard out of bias as well.
I said all of that to say this. After watching a whole lot of Fox News for the last ten years, I finally figured out that they’re not altogether fair and balanced.
Again, we are being chastised by the Washington elite, how dare we resist the Arizona Senator's well deserved coronation. It’s his turn after all. Bob Dole himself came to McCain’s defense. My gag reflex is once more trying to ignore reason, I will continue to support anyone else as long as they are in the race.
Today I saw something very interesting on the news, they showed both of the democrat candidates in Virginia making their bids for the voters of that state. I didn’t really listen to what they were saying, but I could tell why Obama is kicking her butt without hearing a word he had to say. In the foreground, to the sides and behind Senator Clinton were adoring supporters waving signs, that had in large print the letters H I L L A R Y. Then at the Obama rally, there weren’t any Obama signs, just his slogan "Believe." Later I heard a cut of an old Reagan speech, filled with themes of hope and pride in our great nation.
So again, I implore Mike Huckabee to find a message of hope and forget himself. Washington insiders are pretty stuck on themselves and couldn’t imagine taking their names off of their signs, but Huckabee as a man of God should easily find a way.
Reagan brought America under his vision. A great leader has a vision that his followers can rally around, a name is not a vision. What do you want our land of liberty to be like when Huckabee is the President? I’m waiting for him to tell me.
I can guess that I won’t like what McCain’s vision of compromise and a Hispanic majority on the public dime will be like. The McCain that gave labor unions the upper-hand in campaign finance, will give away anything to boost his ego. He doesn’t hear conservatives protesting his pantywaist treatment of illegals or terrorist captives, he is so wonderful in his own mind that he satisfied with his own opinion.
Now, to totally jump to a different track, Chris Wallace interviewed President George W. Bush today on the Fox News. Wallace was so sure that the President was going to come out and say that he supported McCain, that it biased all of his questions. Then he and all his colleagues seemed to hear the President say that everybody should fall in line behind McCain. I listened to the interview twice, the first time I didn’t hear the President say He thought McCain had it in the bag. The second time I paid more attention, I got the impression that the President was hopping that Huckabee could somehow pull off a miracle. I’m sure it was my bias, so I’m sure that the Fox commentators heard what they heard out of bias as well.
I said all of that to say this. After watching a whole lot of Fox News for the last ten years, I finally figured out that they’re not altogether fair and balanced.
Romney Like Regan
Today Mitt Romney dropped out of the race. The news people stayed with him through his entire speech because they knew it was coming and they didn’t want to miss it.
For the first time Mitt didn’t tell me why He was the best choice. He didn’t review his resume, he didn’t brag about his battle against the dark side in the Socialist Republic of Massachusetts and he didn’t mention saving the world with the Salt Lake Olympics. What did he say? He talked about why America has been great, how it became great and how it could remain great.
He talked about America’s enemies from within and without. During this campaign season, each candidate in turn tried to compare them selves to Ronald Reagan, today Romney did it. What is the Obama magic? What was Reagan’s magic? Romney found it in an attempt to take himself out of the picture. It’s not about the candidate, it’s about the greatness of our nation.
God bless America
For the first time Mitt didn’t tell me why He was the best choice. He didn’t review his resume, he didn’t brag about his battle against the dark side in the Socialist Republic of Massachusetts and he didn’t mention saving the world with the Salt Lake Olympics. What did he say? He talked about why America has been great, how it became great and how it could remain great.
He talked about America’s enemies from within and without. During this campaign season, each candidate in turn tried to compare them selves to Ronald Reagan, today Romney did it. What is the Obama magic? What was Reagan’s magic? Romney found it in an attempt to take himself out of the picture. It’s not about the candidate, it’s about the greatness of our nation.
God bless America
Tell Me Why I'm Wrong
Today I’m reminded of when I was involved with Whatcom County Youth for Christ. Encountering an acquaintance on the street I might have delivered a greeting like, "Praise God brother, how is the Lord blessing you today?"
As a YFC volunteer, I spent my spare time studying the bible and singing gospel music at meetings. Then I got a job. Within a few months I began to feel that my old associates might be too heavenly to be of any earthly good. It’s only human to desire to fit in, even rebels adjust to their environment. Less than two years later I was a drunk in the bars, my desire to fit in may have been too strong.
I revisited these memories when I stopped to ponder over why Republicans in urban areas tend to be more moderate than their rural counter parts. I think if you spend all your time surrounded by liberals you tend to compromise some of your positions in an effort to get along. The only bulwark against this erosion of conservative standards, is the unchanging word of God. When I got away from it, I was aware of the chasm between myself and my creator. (At the time I was more inclined to be one of the guys)
This undeniable truth that should govern men's lives is inconveniently unyielding in most things. It also illustrates the contrast between urban and rural conservatives. In the farms and fields of the heartland, the problem of acceptance of homosexuality is less prevalent. Thus, if the scripture states that God considers sodomites an abomination, your typical rural conservative has little need to question the validity of such a statute. But say you find a conservative living in San Francisco, the people he works with, his neighbors, maybe even his pastor might find umbrage with such a premise and declare him a homophobe if he should admit to believing such a thing.
Which bring me to my big fat point. The kind of conservative that might appeal to an urban republican is quite different from one that is attractive in the Bible Belt. And there is the rub. More primary delegates come form urban areas than from rural, but the urban areas affect few or no electoral votes in the general election.
Almost all electoral votes from urban areas are awarded to liberals, and almost every conservative presidential nominee owes his candidacy to the same regions. The possible crossover liberals, independents and moderate conservatives may love a candidate, but in the general election they are so outnumbered by their solid liberal neighbors that they will contribute nothing to that candidates election.
My only other consideration in this political season is this. Heartlanders prefer a "man of God" in the White House.
I Like Mike.
As a YFC volunteer, I spent my spare time studying the bible and singing gospel music at meetings. Then I got a job. Within a few months I began to feel that my old associates might be too heavenly to be of any earthly good. It’s only human to desire to fit in, even rebels adjust to their environment. Less than two years later I was a drunk in the bars, my desire to fit in may have been too strong.
I revisited these memories when I stopped to ponder over why Republicans in urban areas tend to be more moderate than their rural counter parts. I think if you spend all your time surrounded by liberals you tend to compromise some of your positions in an effort to get along. The only bulwark against this erosion of conservative standards, is the unchanging word of God. When I got away from it, I was aware of the chasm between myself and my creator. (At the time I was more inclined to be one of the guys)
This undeniable truth that should govern men's lives is inconveniently unyielding in most things. It also illustrates the contrast between urban and rural conservatives. In the farms and fields of the heartland, the problem of acceptance of homosexuality is less prevalent. Thus, if the scripture states that God considers sodomites an abomination, your typical rural conservative has little need to question the validity of such a statute. But say you find a conservative living in San Francisco, the people he works with, his neighbors, maybe even his pastor might find umbrage with such a premise and declare him a homophobe if he should admit to believing such a thing.
Which bring me to my big fat point. The kind of conservative that might appeal to an urban republican is quite different from one that is attractive in the Bible Belt. And there is the rub. More primary delegates come form urban areas than from rural, but the urban areas affect few or no electoral votes in the general election.
Almost all electoral votes from urban areas are awarded to liberals, and almost every conservative presidential nominee owes his candidacy to the same regions. The possible crossover liberals, independents and moderate conservatives may love a candidate, but in the general election they are so outnumbered by their solid liberal neighbors that they will contribute nothing to that candidates election.
My only other consideration in this political season is this. Heartlanders prefer a "man of God" in the White House.
I Like Mike.
Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word
Three thirteen and eleven seconds. The door behind him opens and people come in. Yes, certainly more than one, probably more than five. He thought about how blind people could tell a lot about what’s going on from the sound. The click of a switch started a buzz and a flickering light came from behind him. Then the sound of... kind of a wahffing and tiny rumble... like an x-ray being put on one of those light back things, that was it. Then voices, young, male and female, some nervous. "My God" "Whoa" "incredible" and other interjections.
Then a steady voice. "We have here a victim of hanging," it said to the others, "notice the displacement of cee four five and six. The patient manifests quad lateral paralysis while respiration and circulation seem to be functioning normally."
"The patient would like something to eat." William blurted out.
The other voice answered while moving around the bed into his field of vision. "It seems that your gastric system is not fully functional."
William could now see that the speaker was a doctor. "Can you repeat that in English Doc." He complained.
A voice behind him questioned. "Not fully, is there partial digestion?"
The doctor continued teaching as if the patient wasn’t there. "From the MRI it appears that the stomach is working but the intestine is not functioning. What problems can we expect?" He paused glancing around then selected his victim, "Lewis."
Lewis, came back with a quick question. "Is there food in the system?"
Smiling the doctor responded. "The proverbial last meal."
Lewis said. "Then first the remnants of that meal must be evacuated, then the stomach should be disabled or the acid will be dangerous."
"And how will this evacuation be accomplished?" The doctor continued.
"Gravity?" Lewis guessed.
The doctor chuckled. "Lewis, you are always so entertaining. I guess we could hang him by his legs until it drained out. Which brings us to the immediate problem. We have here a man that is strapped to a back board. Keeping the neck immobile may be keeping him alive. Notice on the X-ray, if the vertebra move it could complete the execution."
Another voice from behind asked. "Will the vertebra fuse in this position? In which case the backboard may be removed in nine to twelve weeks."
"Yes," the doctor responded, "or we could surgically adjust the spine to stabilize the patient."
"With what prognosis?" asked yet another voice.
"We can almost certainly maintain the patient's current condition." responded the doctor.
Three sixteen and twenty six seconds, William was amazed how easily he had began to ignore the conversation and focus on the clock. These words were not intended for him so he just forgot about them. Very uncharacteristic for him to let that slide. Again out of nowhere, a rancid burp arrived in his mouth. He cleared his throat and asked. "How ‘bout some Tums?"
The doctor feigned a little clapping of his hands. "The patient has discovered the digestive dilemma on his own." He glanced around again. "Martin, what is the answer to the patient's question?"
Another voice, a girl, said. "Wouldn’t hurt, won’t help, best to pump the stomach and let it shut down on its own."
"Good," the doctor replied lifting a clipboard and writing rapidly across the page. "Lets order a stomach pump and prep him for surgery first thing tomorrow. You will all be expected in the gallery in the morning."
William spoke again. "Can someone contact my next of kin?" he asked.
"I’ll have a clergyman stop by." The doctor replied sweeping out of the room with his flock of students in his wake.
William hadn’t thought about what becomes of a last meal, he guessed most people hadn’t. Now that he was still alive he figured that it wasn’t his last, he guessed now that is was. Time crawled along at its usual pace till at six forty one and twenty three seconds the door opened again and a woman walked around into his field of vision. She was well dressed and carried what could have easily been the worlds largest bible under her arm.
"I’m sister Goldstein from the First Apostolic Pentecostal Church of Christ. I was visiting with one of our parishioners this evening and they asked if I could stop in to see you." The lady said.
"Can I pray for you?" she asked.
William was so bored he considered her offer for a minute then replied. "I don’t pray, but could you contact my sister and tell her that I’m here?"
"Of course." The lady replied. "I can call her from this phone right here."
"I don’t know her number, I’m not even sure of her name." William responded. "I only know that when she got out of Bedford Hills Correctional Facility for Women last month she went by the name Judy Jones. I saw it on the news."
"I see," she said, "going to be a little more to this than a phone call."
"She’ll have a probation officer that should know where she is. The hard part will be talking her into seeing me." William responded.
The lady jotted a note on a paper she kept in her bible pages. "I will plead your cause for you, she said, "is there anything I might say to convince her."
William thought, "Tell her I changed my mind. It’s not her fault."
"I’ll see what I can do." the church lady said as she left.
Time ticked on. In the morning, at seven twenty three and forty nine seconds, an orderly came in and rolled him out of the room and down the hall to surgery. He was happy to see the anesthesiologist and he counted backwards to the best rest he’d had since he woke up with a bag over his head.
When the anesthesia wore off he found himself sitting slightly elevated in the recovery room. He could look around a little and there was no clock. A nurse came over and checked his pulse.
"You’ll be back in your room in twenty minutes." she offered.
He only thought, that’s a long time.
Back in his room, facing forward on his bed, he found someone waiting. "Judy," he said, "you came to see me."
"I heard they tried to hang you and screwed it up." Judy responded. "Figure you got some real money coming to ya, I’ll help for a share."
"That’s what I’m talking about. Can you find a good lawyer?" he asked.
"I already got a guy. He figures your good for a couple million," she said, "I want half."
"Lord knows I owe you that." William admitted. "I didn’t know they’d lock you up so long."
"Twenty five years, and not a day off for good behavior." Judy complained. "I was seventeen when I went in, a sniveling kid. Don’t mistake me for a sucker now, I’m tough as nails and twice as hard. You can’t suck me into feeling sorry for you again, and you ain’t gonna get a lick of concern from me."
"I was only twelve when you went away, you didn’t care what happened to me then, I wouldn’t imagine you could care now." William said.
"Maybe I cared more than you remember." Judy corrected. "You killed the old pervert and I took the blame cause you were so young. I knew what ever happened to you couldn’t be as bad as what they did to me."
"You thought," corrected William, "That they’d let you off because he was screwing you."
"Well they didn’t, now here we are twenty five years later, you’re still helpless and I’m still screwed." Judy carried on. "I want a guarantee that I get half, or no lawyer."
"In case you hadn’t noticed, I can’t sign anything." William taunted. "So you’ll need witnesses. and I might buy them off.
Judy grabbed her purse from the window seat and headed for the door.
"Wait," William called after her. "I think we need to work on some new family dynamics. You can have as much as you want. I’ll leave you everything in my will. You see, I don’t intend to live long after I get them back for what they did. There ain’t much to live for."
"Poor baby," Judy taunted, "Just get me some serious money and I’ll kill you myself."
"Would you?" William pleaded.
Then a steady voice. "We have here a victim of hanging," it said to the others, "notice the displacement of cee four five and six. The patient manifests quad lateral paralysis while respiration and circulation seem to be functioning normally."
"The patient would like something to eat." William blurted out.
The other voice answered while moving around the bed into his field of vision. "It seems that your gastric system is not fully functional."
William could now see that the speaker was a doctor. "Can you repeat that in English Doc." He complained.
A voice behind him questioned. "Not fully, is there partial digestion?"
The doctor continued teaching as if the patient wasn’t there. "From the MRI it appears that the stomach is working but the intestine is not functioning. What problems can we expect?" He paused glancing around then selected his victim, "Lewis."
Lewis, came back with a quick question. "Is there food in the system?"
Smiling the doctor responded. "The proverbial last meal."
Lewis said. "Then first the remnants of that meal must be evacuated, then the stomach should be disabled or the acid will be dangerous."
"And how will this evacuation be accomplished?" The doctor continued.
"Gravity?" Lewis guessed.
The doctor chuckled. "Lewis, you are always so entertaining. I guess we could hang him by his legs until it drained out. Which brings us to the immediate problem. We have here a man that is strapped to a back board. Keeping the neck immobile may be keeping him alive. Notice on the X-ray, if the vertebra move it could complete the execution."
Another voice from behind asked. "Will the vertebra fuse in this position? In which case the backboard may be removed in nine to twelve weeks."
"Yes," the doctor responded, "or we could surgically adjust the spine to stabilize the patient."
"With what prognosis?" asked yet another voice.
"We can almost certainly maintain the patient's current condition." responded the doctor.
Three sixteen and twenty six seconds, William was amazed how easily he had began to ignore the conversation and focus on the clock. These words were not intended for him so he just forgot about them. Very uncharacteristic for him to let that slide. Again out of nowhere, a rancid burp arrived in his mouth. He cleared his throat and asked. "How ‘bout some Tums?"
The doctor feigned a little clapping of his hands. "The patient has discovered the digestive dilemma on his own." He glanced around again. "Martin, what is the answer to the patient's question?"
Another voice, a girl, said. "Wouldn’t hurt, won’t help, best to pump the stomach and let it shut down on its own."
"Good," the doctor replied lifting a clipboard and writing rapidly across the page. "Lets order a stomach pump and prep him for surgery first thing tomorrow. You will all be expected in the gallery in the morning."
William spoke again. "Can someone contact my next of kin?" he asked.
"I’ll have a clergyman stop by." The doctor replied sweeping out of the room with his flock of students in his wake.
William hadn’t thought about what becomes of a last meal, he guessed most people hadn’t. Now that he was still alive he figured that it wasn’t his last, he guessed now that is was. Time crawled along at its usual pace till at six forty one and twenty three seconds the door opened again and a woman walked around into his field of vision. She was well dressed and carried what could have easily been the worlds largest bible under her arm.
"I’m sister Goldstein from the First Apostolic Pentecostal Church of Christ. I was visiting with one of our parishioners this evening and they asked if I could stop in to see you." The lady said.
"Can I pray for you?" she asked.
William was so bored he considered her offer for a minute then replied. "I don’t pray, but could you contact my sister and tell her that I’m here?"
"Of course." The lady replied. "I can call her from this phone right here."
"I don’t know her number, I’m not even sure of her name." William responded. "I only know that when she got out of Bedford Hills Correctional Facility for Women last month she went by the name Judy Jones. I saw it on the news."
"I see," she said, "going to be a little more to this than a phone call."
"She’ll have a probation officer that should know where she is. The hard part will be talking her into seeing me." William responded.
The lady jotted a note on a paper she kept in her bible pages. "I will plead your cause for you, she said, "is there anything I might say to convince her."
William thought, "Tell her I changed my mind. It’s not her fault."
"I’ll see what I can do." the church lady said as she left.
Time ticked on. In the morning, at seven twenty three and forty nine seconds, an orderly came in and rolled him out of the room and down the hall to surgery. He was happy to see the anesthesiologist and he counted backwards to the best rest he’d had since he woke up with a bag over his head.
When the anesthesia wore off he found himself sitting slightly elevated in the recovery room. He could look around a little and there was no clock. A nurse came over and checked his pulse.
"You’ll be back in your room in twenty minutes." she offered.
He only thought, that’s a long time.
Back in his room, facing forward on his bed, he found someone waiting. "Judy," he said, "you came to see me."
"I heard they tried to hang you and screwed it up." Judy responded. "Figure you got some real money coming to ya, I’ll help for a share."
"That’s what I’m talking about. Can you find a good lawyer?" he asked.
"I already got a guy. He figures your good for a couple million," she said, "I want half."
"Lord knows I owe you that." William admitted. "I didn’t know they’d lock you up so long."
"Twenty five years, and not a day off for good behavior." Judy complained. "I was seventeen when I went in, a sniveling kid. Don’t mistake me for a sucker now, I’m tough as nails and twice as hard. You can’t suck me into feeling sorry for you again, and you ain’t gonna get a lick of concern from me."
"I was only twelve when you went away, you didn’t care what happened to me then, I wouldn’t imagine you could care now." William said.
"Maybe I cared more than you remember." Judy corrected. "You killed the old pervert and I took the blame cause you were so young. I knew what ever happened to you couldn’t be as bad as what they did to me."
"You thought," corrected William, "That they’d let you off because he was screwing you."
"Well they didn’t, now here we are twenty five years later, you’re still helpless and I’m still screwed." Judy carried on. "I want a guarantee that I get half, or no lawyer."
"In case you hadn’t noticed, I can’t sign anything." William taunted. "So you’ll need witnesses. and I might buy them off.
Judy grabbed her purse from the window seat and headed for the door.
"Wait," William called after her. "I think we need to work on some new family dynamics. You can have as much as you want. I’ll leave you everything in my will. You see, I don’t intend to live long after I get them back for what they did. There ain’t much to live for."
"Poor baby," Judy taunted, "Just get me some serious money and I’ll kill you myself."
"Would you?" William pleaded.
The Slowest Thing Ever
So here he was, a head on a gurney attached to a body that was of little use. He wondered what he could move. He shifted his glance around, up down and side to side. He closed and reopened his eyes. He licked his lips, puckered his lips, smiled and frowned. He tried to wrinkle his forehead and nose respectively. At once he remembered that this was important. That guy Hawkings, did all kinds of stuff by moving his face.
The doctor returned followed by a medical transport team. They started out trying to put a collar on his neck, but because of the strange angle that his head made to his body they couldn’t make it work. He protested, who did these lunk-heads think they where jerking him around like a hunk of meat.
"Just exactly what do you clowns think your doing?" he asked.
"We have to keep you immobile while we move you to a back board." One of the medics responded.
His indignation unsatisfied, he threatened. "Well get a clue and get me outta here or I’ll add you to the list of people I’m suing."
The other medic offered, "Careful Jim, the big scary killer might drool on you if you don’t treat him nice"
"Good point Phil, lets make sure he’s not HIV positive before we get our hands too close to his mouth." Jim responded.
"I’m not someone you guys want to mess with." The hanged man challenged.
Phil observed. "Must be weird for a lifelong tough guy and bully to be reduced to a helpless lump.
Pulling back into his own thoughts, knowing that these jerk-off corpsman didn’t have a clue, He again sought comfort in thinking about that Hawkings guy. He could run mental rings around these medics and he’d make them pay. First thing, find a greedy lawyer. Non of those public defender types that he’d been working with for the last fifteen years, but a real slickster. Then get the best specialists money can buy, next get him an army of henchmen and handmaids and housekeepers. A burp found itself in his mouth without warning and it tasted nasty. Maybe he should get the medical attention first. Damn, he always liked making lists of what he had to get done and cross things off and add things as he went.
The ambulance team finally got him moved onto the backboard and transferred over to their own stretcher. They where getting ready to roll him out when the doctor came over with a clipboard for them to sign. "He’s all yours," he said, "and may you never have a moments luck with him."
Jim looked over the form on the clipboard and scribbled across the bottom. "Hey Phil!" he joked, "we got us a celebrity here. This is William Groen."
"Never heard of him." Phil admitted.
"Oh, he’s a real prince of a guy. He spent four months raping a seven year old kid to death." Jim informed.
Phil puzzled. "I think I would’ve heard of that."
Jim pointed out. "It was along time ago. The only reason I remember is because when it was in the news, my wife didn’t want to name our kid after my dad because his name was William."
"Billy?" Phil questioned, "Isn’t he like fifteen by now?"
"Yeah, fifteen years ago. What a piece of shit." Jim referred to the man they were rolling out to their ambulance.
William almost said something, then remembered that these jokers weren’t worth the sweat off his... upper lip. Again he remembered that he wouldn’t know if he was sweating anywhere below his chin. God, they hadn’t covered any distance at all. They were still in the corridor outside the infirmary. He wondered if he could sleep. He closed his eyes, but thoughts just bounced around inside his head. Mostly emotional stuff. He was mad, then he felt sorry for himself. Then he worried what the medical tests would find out, and then he was mad at everything he could think of again. He found comfort in hating everyone, he’d felt that way most of his life.
Thinking about people he hated reminded him of his old man. Fredrick Groen, what a son of-o-bitch. Dragging him to church three times a week, serving as a deacon and a Sunday School teacher. Screwing his daughter every night and when he was up to it, coming into his son’s room and raping him as well. Pillar of the community his dear old dad.
He opened his eyes, he’d been rolled a whole six feet down the hall since he had closed them. He wondered if he could sleep, he closed his eye. His sister, he’d have someone get a hold of his sister, she might be able to get him a good lawyer. Man, he was going to make the world pay.
He continued thinking about his revenge and remembering things thoughout the hours it took to get into the ambulance. It took days to get to the hospital. Weeks before they got the x-rays and blood drawn. Years later he was alone in a hospital room, he hadn’t spoke a single word. Why bother, all these people were on the opposite side of his legal battle.
As the sun came up he was staring at the wall. He had been hung at midnight and morning only took six years to get here. He might have slept awhile, he wasn’t sure, he couldn’t roll over, stretch, scratch, or lift his head for that matter.
In a few weeks a nurse came in and gave him a shot. Well, there was a plus, he didn’t feel a thing. He asked, "what time is it?"
"Oh!" she started, "I didn’t know you were awake. It’s five fifteen, here let me move the clock so you can see it." She propped a twelve inch wall clock up on the table directly in the middle of his field of vision and left the room.
Five fifteen and forty one seconds. Five fifteen and forty two seconds. Five fifteen and forty three seconds. Five fifteen and forty four seconds. It was like he couldn’t look away. What a kind gesture on the part of that sweet nurse, the bitch probably did it on purpose.
No one else came in till eight thirty three and sixteen seconds, some orderly carrying on about something to do with a MRI. The orderly rolled him out of his room and down the hall, and he actually almost enjoyed the view of a wall without a clock in the way.
After the MRI, he was brought back to his room by a different dude. He asked the guy to move the clock, The shit-head just said "Not my job man, tell the nurse," and zipped out of the room.
The doctor returned followed by a medical transport team. They started out trying to put a collar on his neck, but because of the strange angle that his head made to his body they couldn’t make it work. He protested, who did these lunk-heads think they where jerking him around like a hunk of meat.
"Just exactly what do you clowns think your doing?" he asked.
"We have to keep you immobile while we move you to a back board." One of the medics responded.
His indignation unsatisfied, he threatened. "Well get a clue and get me outta here or I’ll add you to the list of people I’m suing."
The other medic offered, "Careful Jim, the big scary killer might drool on you if you don’t treat him nice"
"Good point Phil, lets make sure he’s not HIV positive before we get our hands too close to his mouth." Jim responded.
"I’m not someone you guys want to mess with." The hanged man challenged.
Phil observed. "Must be weird for a lifelong tough guy and bully to be reduced to a helpless lump.
Pulling back into his own thoughts, knowing that these jerk-off corpsman didn’t have a clue, He again sought comfort in thinking about that Hawkings guy. He could run mental rings around these medics and he’d make them pay. First thing, find a greedy lawyer. Non of those public defender types that he’d been working with for the last fifteen years, but a real slickster. Then get the best specialists money can buy, next get him an army of henchmen and handmaids and housekeepers. A burp found itself in his mouth without warning and it tasted nasty. Maybe he should get the medical attention first. Damn, he always liked making lists of what he had to get done and cross things off and add things as he went.
The ambulance team finally got him moved onto the backboard and transferred over to their own stretcher. They where getting ready to roll him out when the doctor came over with a clipboard for them to sign. "He’s all yours," he said, "and may you never have a moments luck with him."
Jim looked over the form on the clipboard and scribbled across the bottom. "Hey Phil!" he joked, "we got us a celebrity here. This is William Groen."
"Never heard of him." Phil admitted.
"Oh, he’s a real prince of a guy. He spent four months raping a seven year old kid to death." Jim informed.
Phil puzzled. "I think I would’ve heard of that."
Jim pointed out. "It was along time ago. The only reason I remember is because when it was in the news, my wife didn’t want to name our kid after my dad because his name was William."
"Billy?" Phil questioned, "Isn’t he like fifteen by now?"
"Yeah, fifteen years ago. What a piece of shit." Jim referred to the man they were rolling out to their ambulance.
William almost said something, then remembered that these jokers weren’t worth the sweat off his... upper lip. Again he remembered that he wouldn’t know if he was sweating anywhere below his chin. God, they hadn’t covered any distance at all. They were still in the corridor outside the infirmary. He wondered if he could sleep. He closed his eyes, but thoughts just bounced around inside his head. Mostly emotional stuff. He was mad, then he felt sorry for himself. Then he worried what the medical tests would find out, and then he was mad at everything he could think of again. He found comfort in hating everyone, he’d felt that way most of his life.
Thinking about people he hated reminded him of his old man. Fredrick Groen, what a son of-o-bitch. Dragging him to church three times a week, serving as a deacon and a Sunday School teacher. Screwing his daughter every night and when he was up to it, coming into his son’s room and raping him as well. Pillar of the community his dear old dad.
He opened his eyes, he’d been rolled a whole six feet down the hall since he had closed them. He wondered if he could sleep, he closed his eye. His sister, he’d have someone get a hold of his sister, she might be able to get him a good lawyer. Man, he was going to make the world pay.
He continued thinking about his revenge and remembering things thoughout the hours it took to get into the ambulance. It took days to get to the hospital. Weeks before they got the x-rays and blood drawn. Years later he was alone in a hospital room, he hadn’t spoke a single word. Why bother, all these people were on the opposite side of his legal battle.
As the sun came up he was staring at the wall. He had been hung at midnight and morning only took six years to get here. He might have slept awhile, he wasn’t sure, he couldn’t roll over, stretch, scratch, or lift his head for that matter.
In a few weeks a nurse came in and gave him a shot. Well, there was a plus, he didn’t feel a thing. He asked, "what time is it?"
"Oh!" she started, "I didn’t know you were awake. It’s five fifteen, here let me move the clock so you can see it." She propped a twelve inch wall clock up on the table directly in the middle of his field of vision and left the room.
Five fifteen and forty one seconds. Five fifteen and forty two seconds. Five fifteen and forty three seconds. Five fifteen and forty four seconds. It was like he couldn’t look away. What a kind gesture on the part of that sweet nurse, the bitch probably did it on purpose.
No one else came in till eight thirty three and sixteen seconds, some orderly carrying on about something to do with a MRI. The orderly rolled him out of his room and down the hall, and he actually almost enjoyed the view of a wall without a clock in the way.
After the MRI, he was brought back to his room by a different dude. He asked the guy to move the clock, The shit-head just said "Not my job man, tell the nurse," and zipped out of the room.
Where Am I
His consciousness faded back into his head like a mist rising from a lake. His mind focused on his eyes. What was he seeing? Nothing, blackness, was he blind? No, he was surely dead. That’s right, his most recent memory was his execution. He had exhausted his appeals and pleaded to the Governor and every deity for mercy. But he remembered standing on the platform with a bag over his head, the hangman checking and rechecking the placement of the noose, he even remembered the sudden drop.
And now he was in blackness, he couldn’t feel anything, is this the afterlife? His first impulse was to look around for the proverbial bright light. First problem, it seemed as though he couldn’t move, or if he was moving he couldn’t tell. No feeling, no vision, no sound, no taste but his mouth was dry. Oh, wait a minute he could smell that bag on his head, as the matter of fact he could feel the bag was still on his head.
Then sounds, a blast of sounds, a door opening some beings walking in, the door closing behind them, hard shoes on a bare floor. They didn’t speak, they approached, they stopped right below him, he floated down till his head rested on something hard and smooth. They slipped the noose off over his head, he realized he had not been breathing since they came in. He gasped a great breath, and almost instantly voices rang out.
The first voice exclaimed, "Shit!" it seemed to be moving away and down.
The second voice laughed. "Man, you just jumped out of your skin, scared you silly.
"I noticed you backed up pretty quick." The other replied.
"Well shit, he breathed in," the second voice defended. "I heard them blow out before, but he breathed in."
He wondered if he should say something, if he could say something. As the laughter subsided, he ventured a question, "Am I dead?" More 'oh shiting' and moving around at a safe distance followed. He tried again, "Is this Heaven or Hell?"
"Man we better tell somebody about this." The second man said.
The beeping of a phone being dialed followed, three digits. Then the first man spoke. "I think we might have a problem, I don’t think the prisoner’s dead. Yes, it looks like his neck’s broke, his head’s laid over like it ain’t connected right. Okay, we won’t touch him till the doc gets here.
It seemed like hours, maybe days. Nobody dared speak, he because he was still in the dark, they because they didn’t care to strike up a conversation with a corpse. Finally the door opened again and footsteps once again approached. A new voice stated flatly, "he has a pulse and he’s breathing, let’s get this hood off.
The light in the room made him blink and finally settle on a squint. He saw the white coat of the doctor first, then moving his eyes up saw the face, wouldn’t you know he’d be an Indian. Then it came to him, he blurted out. "I can’t move."
"I shouldn’t wonder, your neck is badly broken." The doctor responded.
"But I’m not dead?" he asked.
The doctor got a puzzled look on his face saying. "Apparently not. Quite unusual."
As was his habit, he sought immediate gratification for his slightest needs. "My mouth is really dry, is there anything to drink around here?"
"Let’s get you immobilized first, then we can move you up to the infirmary." The doctor said.
The first man asked. "Why would you want to tie him down?"
"If his head moves it could kill him." warned the doctor.
The second man, obviously thinking along the same lines as the other guy asked. "And that would be bad because he’s not supposed to be dead?"
"He’s already been hung, we’re not allowed to kill him." The words left the doctor’s mouth and struck like a knife into the hanged man’s consciousness. He couldn’t be executed twice for the same crime.
Straps were placed around his forehead and the doctor spent a lot of time working on straps around his arms and chest although he could only see the process, he didn’t feel a thing. When the strapping was completed they rolled him out the door down the hall and into an elevator. He had time to think. Thinking about it he realized he had lots of time to think. Pretty much all he could do is think, for the rest of his life. Then he remembered the father of his victim at the sentencing hearing. How he bawled and complained that death was to good for him. That he should suffer the way he made that father’s young son suffer. Then he prayed that God would send him to an especially hot corner of Hell. Of course that was fifteen years ago, right now it seemed like yesterday.
They got off the elevator and rolled down the hall to the infirmary. Inside, the doctor slipped on a glove and stuck an ice cube into the paralyzed mans mouth. "Try not to choke on that," he said, "until we can determine weather your digestive system is functioning, that’s all you get."
He hadn’t realized that he might not be able to eat.
He had never wished he was dead in his life. Before the hanging, the lousy priest that they sent to talk to him told him to accept his fate, and embrace death. He never believed in God, at least not since he was 'like' nine. His mother believed in God big time and she died believing that he would heal her. No he wouldn’t listen to that lousy priest then and by God they better not bring that stinking bible merchant in to see him now.
The doctor was on the phone, he woke up the warden. Evidently the warden told the doctor that the law was clear, he’s a free man. The doctor came over and asked him what he wanted to do.
"Check me out and see if I can eat," was his immediate response.
"I’m afraid that you are no longer under our jurisdiction, so I’m not authorized to treat you." the doctor avoided liability. "I can call for an ambulance to transport you wherever you want to go."
"Where the hell can I go? I got no money and I don’t know anybody I can ask for help." He growled.
"County General it is then," the doctor said and left the room.
Alone again, the man was once more forced to review his helplessness. That sappy father from fifteen years ago could just find him and kill him and there was nothing he could do about it. Hell, that might be better than the life he had to look forward to. First thing tomorrow he was going to get him a lawyer and get the legal ball rolling over them prison people for botching his execution. If he was going to veg’ in some whole, he may as well have enough coin to get him a nice whole. Maybe a hot private nurse, or would that be more frustration then it’s worth. Damn, this was sucking more at every turn, and as much as it started out sucking that was hard to believe.
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