Regular readers of this blog might have taken note that I haven’t had much to say recently. Oh, I’ve posted a few lighthearted things, a little here and there, but frankly, I’d have been bored reading this blog lately. Not much happening. I’ve even strayed away from a fairly lively debate going on regarding my “Ronald Weinland” post; little did I know when I wrote a “throwaway post” on this phony a few months back that it’d become one of the hotbeds of activity for all things Ronald Weinland (of whom I’d never heard fifteen minutes prior to my post, and of whom I only know a little more now, chiefly that as the “spiritual heir” of Herbert W. Armstrong, his theology is heretical, and as a self-proclaimed prophet, he’s clearly a false one). I owe folks like Jasper a nice response to some of his ideas, and haven’t even mustered up the gumption to do that. There are two reasons for both my lack of response to that post, and my lack of new postings:

1. My laptop continues to be a problem. I’ve had several things go wrong with it over the course of the last three months; it’s been in the shop three times, and the AC adaptor gave out several weeks back, and then the replacement cord sent me was the wrong one. Hopefully, that will be remedied when I arrive in Roanoke for my 30th high school reunion and find a new one waiting for me, but this whole episode has reminded me again of one of the dictums I’ve chosen for my life:

“Blessed are those who expect incompetence, for they shall not be disappointed.”

Far as I know, that’s original with me; use it as you see fit.

2. I spent most of the month of May in various degrees of anger. I say this to my shame, quite frankly; I don’t think it’s a good thing, particularly because of the reasons for my anger. OK, in one sense, there’s a certain amount of “righteous indignation” that is warranted, and maybe some of that was going on, and I didn’t want to keep writing a bunch of angry posts and risk consigning myself to the permanent role of “village curmudgeon”. If I haven’t already…

But most of my anger, other than a considerable amount that was self-directed at the very fact that I was so angry and frustrated about the state of affairs in our nation, was directed at what is happening in our country. There used to be a song (by the way, what does that mean, “there used to be a song”? Has the song gone away? Is it no longer legal to sing it? Questions, questions…) entitled “I Am Thankful to Be an American”. Came out around the bicentennial, sung everywhere by groups like Jerry Falwell’s Lynchburg Baptist College Chorale, praising our nation, etc. And a disclaimer before I go on: I am thankful to be an American. For despite the fact that our nation is going to hell in a handbasket, comparative to a lot of other places that are already hell on earth, we’re in reasonably good shape.

But I’m also a lot of other things these days relative to our country besides “thankful”. I’m frustrated to be an American. I’m angry to be an American. I’m disenchanted to be an American. Fill in your own blanks here. But here was the “perfect storm” of frustration for me that made the “state of this blogger” so sorry in the merry, merry month of May:

Gas prices
Every day, it seemed, I’d drive to the office and notice that gas prices had increased by a dime. And then, I watched the buffoons that we call “Congress” (latest approval rating: 18.7%; Quinnipiac U has it at 16%) drag oil company execs before their sanctimonious committees and demand an explanation. Here’s an explanation for you losers: most of you are in bed with the environmental extremists to such a degree that the plentiful energy sources on our teeming shores cannot be explored/drilled for/tapped into out of trumped-up silly fears that would be laughable if they weren’t winning the day. And so we’re over a barrel (bad pun intended) to OPEC, consisting of nations teeming with people who’d be thrilled if 9/11 happened every day until there was no more U.S. of A., people who’d slit the throat of your toddler for fun if they possibly could. And then, I drive past signs saying “re-elect _______”. This year, I’m voting to re-elect nobody. Got that? Not the buffoon Democrat who represents my district in the House, and not the conservative Republican who represents Georgia in the Senate, but who got all over the President for vetoing the pork-laden Farm Bill. I don’t know who the Libertarian is who’s running for the Senate from GA, but he’s got my vote. Republicans like Saxby Chambliss might be right on abortion (for all the good it’s done us), but they keep larding up the budget like Socialist/Democrat liberals in heat. And I’m sick of it. Re-elect nobody. I’d rather turn the direction of our nation, at least for two years, over to 535 people chosen at random from the Atlanta phone book than to the Congress we currently have. I have no respect for Congress because Congress has no respect for this nation, and they prove it every day by their pathetic actions. We’re energy-dependent on our enemies, and Congress is worried about Roger Clemen’s posterior and the NFL’s policies.

And meanwhile, while Rome’s burning and these people are fiddlin’ away, the prices at the pump keep putting the squeeze on people and ruining our economy. And I say that as a person with at least some margin; I can cut back on some things, shop more wisely, say “no” to a few extracurriculars, etc. But what about poor folks who have a hard time scraping by? Everything costs more, and Arlen Specter, the Wonder Senator, wants to know why the NFL destroyed the New England Patriots “Spygate” tapes. Here’s an answer that suits me, Senator Silly Man: “to keep your hands off of ’em, so you can’t tax ’em”. Good enough for me; how ’bout you?

See why I was (am) ticked? And that’s only issue one.

The Radical Redefinition of Marriage

A court in California usurps all sense of its appropriate constitutional authority, disenfranchises every single California voter, shows its collective posterior to many millennia of established understanding of what “marriage” is defined as, gives the middle finger to every major faith group in the world, and declares, by raw fiat, that now, two people of the same sex can, in that state, consider themselves “married” to each other. I’m not sure which ticks me off more: the ridiculous notion that the definition of marriage is something made of Play-Doh, or the arrogant gall of the would-be gods who believe that five people rule the state of California (namely, a simple majority of the simpletons on the state Supreme Court). Now two states have gone down this path, and predictably, our Socialist/Democrat friends, many of them, have applauded this nonsense, including Nancy Pelosi (D-Pyongyang), Ted Kennedy, and others. “OK”, you say, “we treat California like the foreign country that it is, along with Massachusetts, and move on with our lives”. Except that there’s this thing called the “full faith and credit” clause that suggests that other states have an obligation to honor such nonsense. Granted, we haven’t seen Supreme Court rulings on how “full faith and credit” fares when it comes up against state constitutions vis a vis marriage, but we can pretty well guess how at least some of the current Court would see things.

And then we have professing Christians who hail this decision. I’m sorry, that’s ludicrous. Ludicrous. How a Christian could be anything but perplexed/frustrated, yea horrified by not only the decision, but by the likely social fallout, is beyond me. And then I look at the People’s Republic of Canada, see what’s going on with regard to free speech/religion up there when it comes to homosexuality and political correctness, and I fear that such freedom-shackling nonsense could pretty easily make its way south of the border. We know that there are plenty of liberals in this country already who’d like nothing better than to see free speech go the way of the dodo, at least when it comes to free speech motivated by, say, the Bible. And then there’s the third element of the perfect storm:

The Presidential Race
I am voting for John McCain. More accurately put, I’m voting against Barack Obama, and John McCain (barely) gives me enough reasons to pull the lever for him instead of Bob Barr. But it astonishes me that someone with a resume as utterly thin as that of Barack Obama could be taken seriously as a candidate to guide our country at this critical time. It’s astonishing, and if you don’t see it as astonishing, it might be because we’ve been listening to his (exceptional) speeches and charmed by his boyish good looks. Fine…but that man’s resume is paper-thin, and his ideas are from the far left. He is the least-experienced, and furthest left, candidate ever put forward by a major party. And this this the man we might elect our next president?

But then there’s McCain, who’s wrong on a whole lot of stuff (immigration; snuggling up to environmentalists, McCain-Feingold, etc.). Mustering up enthusiasm for his candidacy is a bridge way too far; I’m probably literally taking a clothespin into the voting booth come November (I’ll take pictures).

And then, as I said earlier, I’ve been angry at myself that I let this stuff get to me like it does. God’s sovereign; He’s in control; in many respects, life is good. I’m down with all that.

But I just haven’t been ready to blog about much of anything of substance. And now you know why.

3 responses »

  1. Mark Merritt says:

    A worthy blog, my friend. thank you. It seems you have your finger on the pulse, if there is one.

  2. Graham says:

    Being angry and frustrated is better than being apathetic.

  3. connie pearson says:

    I am one of those members of the Lynchburg Baptist College Chorale from 1972(now Liberty) that used to sing that song every concert. Yes, I looked up the words today to send a message to my former singing group as a reminder….Happy July 4. I am thankful to be an American.
    To live in the greatest land of all.
    In a nation blessed, it’s the very best,
    I can stand with my head up tall.
    I am thankful to be an American,
    To be born in a land that is free.
    I am thankful to to God for allowing me to be an American.

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