What Is One Child Worth?

I want you to do something for me. It’s a simple experiment, won’t cost you anything, in fact it will save you money. Tomorrow I want you to get up and not eat breakfast. Maybe a little toast and tea. For lunch have a banana. Skip dinner altogether, instead drink a couple glasses of water to settle your hunger a bit. The next day I want you to see how you feel. That’s how a homeless child feels every day! On that next day sit down to your usual breakfast. That’s how a homeless child feels when someone reaches out!

While the shakers and movers in the world ignite wars, orchestrate clandestine operations, and pass legislation we all disagree with, homeless children all over the world quietly stave to death. The cost of one drone would feed hundreds, and I’m not exaggerating, HUNDREDS of starving children. When you go to breakfast at Denny’s, the bit you leave on your plate because you are full is gold to a little girl in Africa. She would stick her little tongue out to catch the crumbs you toss to your cat!

You want to know where terrorism comes from? You want to know what motivates a suicide bomber? Look no farther than your dinner plate. If you, and your family were homeless, unclothed, and starving, what would you do if offered all these things all you had to do was put on a vest, walk among the people you perceive did this to you, and pull the string?

Time was when we could look at their drawn faces, their bloated bellies, and just change the channel, but friends, those days are gone forever. There are people with agendas in this world with a ready supply of willing volunteers to wear that vest! Children living life in alleys with death tugging at their elbow every hour of every day. No child should live like that, and it is a war crime to create a situation that forces any child to endure such conditions.

I won’t bore you with statistics. The numbers mean nothing. When you rattle off the mortality rate the millions cloud the mind and become if no consequence because the problem becomes insurmountable. So, let me reduce it to a manageable number On planet earth, in the year 2013 one child is one too many! The very idea of a three year old not having a bowl of Cheerios is absurd. The very idea of children starving for the want of a few miserable shillings is insane!

What is the solution? How do we eat this elephant? One bite at a time. How many meals do you eat in a given month? Single out one, just one, and put that money to good use. God, and your waist line will thank you for it. You will never miss it, in fact, you may skip breakfast, lunch once a week, and a child will live. One. Just one. What is one child worth? What is Nelson Mandela worth? What is Steve Jobs worth? What is Barak Obama worth! All of these men were “left on a doorstep.”

If everyone skipped that meal, and dedicated the money that would have been used we could eradicate hunger. And friends and neighbors, maybe someday those vests the terrorists are offering won’t fit so well, and on that day the skies will be bluer, God will smile, and a little girl,will say, “Thank you.”

Sandwiches vs Drones

by Wilbur Witt

This might be the most important blog I’ve ever written, in fact I’m going to start a new thread just for this, it’s that important. We, here in America, fight the war on terrorism all over the world, and it’s a very confused effort. President Obama, like others before him, has bought into to idea that the terrorists around the world are some very sophisticated, ultra organized incorporated group of pseudo intellectuals with money and materials sufficient to attack us at any time, anywhere. The administration would have us believe that the terrorists are at least as organized as they are because they have to justify their bloated budget and perpetuate the administration and it’s goals. I don’t believe that, and if people like Eric Holder believe it then they are as crazy as a shit house rat!

I grew up in extreme poverty. We were so poor that me and my friends thought that people who had floors and sheet rock on the walls were rich. When we went out to have a good time our idea of a great evening was a quart of Borden’s chocolate milk. Girls in my town tried to marry a soldier as soon as legally possible just to get away. We thought the world was flat because when people left town they never came back. Chicken and rice was a chicken flavored soup that had some rice in it, and we were always sick!

The Killeen police department took over the duties of law enforcement when my hometown of Simmonsville was incorporated into the city. In due course the department theorized that we were some vast mini-mafia because a few hubcaps turned up missing, and whiskey was sold to soldiers on Sunday. Nothing could have been farther from the truth, but as these idiots picked us up, and told us how organized we were we learned well. First thing we learned was that the police department would feed us in jail. That was job one. The next thing we learned was that any information we gave them would quickly translate into freedom. Third thing we learned was how to get the hell out of Simmonsville and move to Austin where we could make money and have all the chocolate milk we wanted any time!

Fast forward to the Middle East forty years later. I see the same dirt floors, the same starving faces, the same bozos saying these people are this, that, Al Quaeta, El WhatEver! We spend billions of dollars dropping atom bombs on ant hills. And every time the administration comes up with another theory, another press conference, some starving bunch of kids in Afghanistan say, “That’ll work!” They stitch together an IED and we hit em with a drone, and it looks like a war.

What to do? First, get the f#¥k out of the Middle East. I hate to be the first one to tell you people this but these guys love to fight. WE loved to fight back in Simmonsville. Wanna know why the real Mafia never hooked up with us back then? Because we were too damn violent and we consistently robbed them. Come into our little corner of the world with a suit and a new car and see how that works out for you. Hell, we stole the hubcaps off of POLICE cars! Were we organized? Hell no! There were three distinct sections of our little hamlet and brothers and sisters let me tell you, we weren’t politically correct! If I left my house on Grider street to go to the store for my mom, and was stupid enough to cut down 42nd street the black kids would whip my ass and take my mom’s cigarette money quick, and I had it coming. That was the Simmonsville Stupid Tax! I first met Jr Mitchell when he helped me get to the store one day with the help of a sling shot and a sack or .45 caliber lead balls. How’s THAT for a childhood, Dr. Spock?

You catch more flies with sugar than you do with vinegar. Now this solution won’t end all the bullshit in one master stroke, but it’s a start. I have this kid from Africa who talks to me on Facebook. He has no parents, no real bed, and most of all, no food. I don’t know how he gets on the net, but I suspect he hangs out at some Internet cafe, and I know I’m not the only American he’s talking to because he’s starving! He hit me up for money. I tell everyone “over there” to forget about getting money from me because I’m not buying bullets to shoot at our boys serving our country. But I will send a sandwich. If he can send me a reliable address I will go to HEB, and I will put together a package that will feed him for a month for about fifty dollars. We do this for my son who is serving in Afghanistan all, the time. He has us always include a liberal number of Hershey bars for the kids he meets, as a matter of fact, he has a herd of goats and shares meat with a neighboring village.

I’m going to do this on my own, without the Christian this or that, or any save the children because I consider them to all be thieves and every dollar you send them gets funneled to whatever fat bastard is running that country at the time. And is isn’t instant coffee. One sandwich will not save the world. But, in time, the idea will grow. Al Qaeda didn’t give you that sandwich, Mohammed didn’t give that sandwich, one AMERICAN gave you that sandwich!

I know this sounds simplistic, but I’m a simple man. People here in this country forgot what it’s like to just be hungry. I hear all these people screaming about Detroit, or East LA, but you grow up in PoDunk, Texas and then you come and tell me about it! I invite your comments, hell, I could be wrong. I was wrong twice last year, but I don’t think so.