Thought For The Day
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It is incontrovertible; a huge majority of Jews refuse to acknowledge even the remote possibility, that as a people, they are being incrementally "frog-marched" into oblivion.
I don't usually like heartwarming stories, but this one is truly interesting... and it contains an important message for political incumbents and future candidates seeking political office.
In 1986, Mkele Mbembe was on holiday in Kenya after graduating from Northwestern University. On a hike through the bush, he came across a young bull elephant standing with one leg raised in the air. The elephant seemed distressed, so Mbembe approached it very carefully. He got down on one knee and inspected the elephant's foot and found a large piece of wood deeply embedded in it. As carefully and as gently as he could, Mbembe worked the wood out with his hunting knife, after which the elephant gingerly put down its foot.
The elephant turned to face the man, and with a rather curious look on its face, stared at him for several tense moments. Mbembe stood frozen, thinking of nothing else but being trampled. Eventually the elephant trumpeted loudly, turned, and walked away. Mbembe never forgot that elephant or the events of that day.
Twenty years later, Mbembe was walking through the Chicago Zoo with his teenage son. As they approached the elephant enclosure, one of the creatures turned and walked to where Mbembe and his son Tapu were standing. The large bull elephant stared at Mbembe, lifted its front foot off the ground, and then put it down. The elephant did that several times and then trumpeted loudly, all the while staring at the man.
Remembering the encounter in 1986, Mbembe couldn't help wondering if this was the same elephant. Mbembe summoned up his courage, climbed over the railing and made his way into the enclosure. He walked right up to the elephant and stared back in wonder. The elephant trumpeted again, wrapped its trunk around one of Mbembe's legs and slammed him against the railing, killing him instantly. It is probably safe to conclude it wasn't the same elephant....
The lesson we can take away from this interesting and heartwarming story is one of statistical probability, bordering on certainty. A similar sequence of events will likely occur as the current crop of political candidates seek to befriend a nation of injured conservative elephants, many of whose youth have been sacrificed to open borders, drugs and Islamic terrorists. The election outcome experienced by incumbent Republicans and Democrats in the 2008 election at the hands of voters is likely to be painfully similar to Mbembe. At least I hope it is.
Red State Patriot
Comments are welcome at redstatepatriot@hughes.net. Please include the title of the article as your subject line. Selected responses, in whole or part, may be published (appended to the article).
Two burglars, having exchanged an agreement to share their loot, broke into the house of a United States citizen one night. One of the burglars was a Mexican and the other a Congessman. The Congressman genuinely thought the Mexican deserved more than the Mexican government was providing to their own citizens and was only too willing to make up the difference by taking it from his own unsuspecting neighbors. The two burglars shone their flashlights around, diligently looking for valuables, identification or money. When the Mexican pickup a Social Security Card to place in his pocket, they both heard what sounded like the strange, disembodied, low rumbling voices of thousands of people saying in unison from the dark, “Jesus is watching you.”
The burglar had to be one of the following because every other Congressman had an ironclad alibi:
Bennett (R-UT)
Bingaman (D-NM)
Bond (R-MO)
Boxer (D-CA)
Brownback (R-KS)
Burr (R-NC)
Coleman (R-MN)
Collins (R-ME)
Craig (R-ID)
Domenici (R-NM)
Ensign (R-NV)
Gregg (R-NH) Kyl (R-AZ), who also voted for the border fence before voting not to fund it.
Lott (R-MS)
McConnell (R-KY)
Murkowski (R-AK)
Pryor (D-AR)
Snowe (R-ME)
Stevens (R-AK)
Warner (R-VA)
Webb (D-VA)
The Congressman nearly jumped out of his skin, clicked his flashlight off, and froze. He quickly made a call on his cell phone to someone named Harry saying something about holding off on the “Bill.” When he heard nothing more after a bit, and thought the commotion had ended, he spoke briefly again into the cell phone saying, "Harry, it's safe, go ahead.”
After hanging up, the Congressman shook his head, momentarily a little unnerved, and promised himself a long taxpayer-funded vacation after the next big campaign contribution. He clicked the flashlight on again and began searching for more valuables to redistribute to the Mexican. Just as he pulled the home owner’s Health Care Insurance Card from a drawer and was reaching for their children’s Student ID card, clear as a bell he thought he heard the voices again, millions of people saying, “Jesus is watching you.”
Freaked out (speaking in the vernacular), the Congressman shone his flashlight around frantically, looking for the source of the voices. The Mexican never flinched and continued to ransack the house. Finally, in the corner of the room, the Congressman’s flashlight beam came to rest on a parrot.
Did you say that?" the Congressman hissed in a half-whisper at the parrot.
"Yep," the parrot confessed, then squawked, "I'm just trying to warn you."
The Congressman relaxed. "Warn me, huh? Who in the world do you think you are?"
"Moses," replied the parrot.
"Moses?" the Congressman laughed. "What kind of voter would name a bird Moses?"
"The kind of voter that would name a Rottweiler, ‘Jesus.’"
I'm over 60 years of age and the Armed Forces say I'm too old to track down terrorists. (You can't be older than 35 to join the military.) These liberals have got the whole thing backwards. Instead of sending 18-year-olds off to fight, they ought to take us old guys.
You shouldn't be able to join the military until you're at least 35. For starters, researchers say 18-year-olds think about sex every 10 seconds. I did until I was 35. Old guys only think about sex a couple of times a day, leaving more than 28,000 additional seconds per day to concentrate on the enemy. Young guys haven't lived long enough to be cranky, and a cranky soldier is a very, very dangerous soldier. If we can't kill the enemy, we'll complain them into submission. "My back hurts! I'm hungry! Where's the remote? Why isn’t this beer cold?"
The average old guy, on the other hand, has consumed 126,000 gallons of beer, and a jaunt through the desert in the heat with a beer with an M-60 would do wonders for his beer belly. (Note there are 24 hours in a day and 24 bottles in a case...another convenient way old guys use to measure time!). An 18-year-old doesn't like to get up before 10 a.m. Old guys always get up early to pee.
If captured we couldn't spill the beans because we'd forget where we put them. In fact, name, rank, and serial number would be a real brainteaser. Even boot camp would be far easier for old guys. We're used to getting screamed and yelled at and we like soft food. We've also developed an appreciation for guns. We like them almost better than naps.
They could lighten up on the obstacle course however. Nobody that has ever been in combat has seen a 20-foot wall with rope hanging over the side, nor does anybody do pushups after completing basic training. Can you hear the Drill Sergeant for the first “Antique Military Brigade” now, "Get down and give me ... er ... one?" Actually, let’s be realistic. The running part of physical fitness is kind of a waste of energy anyway. No one outruns a bullet, particularly a terrorist. Old guys also have the distinct advantage of patience. They would make incredible snipers without having to remember why or who.
An 18-year-old has the whole world ahead of him. He's still learning to shave, and if his behavior is exemplary, maybe someone will give him the cord to his electric shaver as a Christmas present. An 18-year old has difficulty carrying on a conversation, let alone wearing pants without the top of his butt crack showing and his shorts sticking out. He's hasn't figured out that a pierced tongue catches food particles, and that a 400-watt speaker in the back seat of a Honda can rupture an eardrum, or that a baseball cap has a brim designed to shade his eyes, not the back of his head.
These are all good reasons to keep our kids at home to learn a little more about life before sending them into harm's way.
But now, we old guys are a different story. We can track down those dirty rotten cowards who attacked us on September 11th. The last thing an enemy would want to see is a couple of million old farts with attitudes. Even after 30 years of military service, please let me be the first to reenlist and go to Iraq. Then all we ask is to get the liberals out of our way! Winning would be measured in days, not years.
While were at it, us old farts are proposing a new medal to be awarded to deserving members of all branches of the Armed Forces and National Guard. We’ve decided to call it the “Jimmy Carter Freedom Medal.” It is to be awarded to those who have been sent into action with explicit directions to not fight, who follow orders to throw down their weapons and flee upon contact with the enemy or an illegal alien, without firing a single forbidden shot. The design is a bright brass disk with a bas-relief image of the hindquarters of a rabbit, suspended from a yellow ribbon.
Posted February 1, 2007 12:06 PM Permalink
Read more on Humor
Fairy Tales of Integrity
Hat tip: Pete Perkins
Posted October 25, 2006 10:39 AM Permalink
Read more on Humor
Be Careful Who and What You Vote For
While walking down the street one day a U.S. Senator was tragically hit by a truck and died. His soul arrived in heaven and was met by St. Peter at the entrance. (If you’re of a secular persuasion, bear with this story for a minute as the point is worthwhile.)
"Welcome to heaven," said St. Peter. "Before you settle in, it seems there is a small problem. We seldom see a high official around these parts, so we're not quite sure what to do with you. Most of your elite peers have chosen to go elsewhere."
"No problem. Just let me in, I'm sure we can work something out." said the Senator.
"Well, I'd like to, but I have orders from higher up. What we’ve decided to do is have you spend one day in Hell and one in Heaven. Then you can choose where to spend eternity."
"Really, I've already made up my mind. I want to be in Heaven," said the Senator.
"I'm sorry, but we have our rules."
And with that, St. Peter escorted the Senator to the elevator and down he went, down to hell. The doors opened and he found himself in the middle of a green golf course. In the distance was a clubhouse and standing in front of it were all his friends and other politicians who had worked with him. Everyone appeared to be very happy and everyone wore evening dress. They ran to greet him, shake his hand, and reminisce about the good times they had while getting rich at the expense of the people. They played a friendly game of golf and then dined on lobster, caviar and imbibed the finest champagne.
Also present was the Devil, who was a really friendly guy, and who had a good time dancing and telling jokes. They were all having such a good time that before he realized it, it was time to go. Everyone gave him a hearty farewell and waved while the elevator rose into the distance. The elevator went up, up, up and the door reopened in heaven where St. Peter was waiting for him.
"Now it's time to visit heaven."
Twenty four hours passed with the senator joining a group of contented souls moving from cloud to cloud, playing the harp and singing. They had a good time and before he realized it, the twenty four hours was gone and St. Peter returned.
"Well, then, you've spent a day in Hell and another in Heaven. Now you have to choose your eternity."
The Senator reflected briefly, then answered: "Well, I would never have said it before, and I don’t want to offend you, I mean Heaven has been delightful, but I think I would be better off in Hell."
So St. Peter escorted him to the elevator and back down, down, down to Hell he went. The doors of the elevator opened and the Senator found himself in the middle of a barren land covered with waste and garbage. He saw all his friends, dressed in rags, arguing among themselves, picking up the trash and putting it in black bags as more garbage fell from above
The Devil eventually came over to him and put his arm around the Senator’s shoulders.
"I don't understand," stammered the Senator. "Yesterday I was here and there was a golf course and a beautiful clubhouse. We ate lobster and caviar, drank champagne, and danced and had a great time. Now there's only a wasteland full of garbage and my friends look miserable. This isn’t what I wanted. What happened?"
The devil looked at him, smiled and said, "Yesterday we were campaigning which is a lot different than reality. You saw what you wanted to see and heard what you wanted to hear. Today you voted.”
