Neighbors

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Getting to know the neighbors can be daunting. It seems that in the poorer neighborhoods people mingle a lot better than they do in the more affluent ones, and I’ve been in both. Berry Creek, in Georgetown, Texas was the upper end of the top end. Even the “garden homes” would shame most of the homes in my native Killeen. Now, to be sure, I was certified white trash. I grew up in a little town in Texas called Simmonsville, later absorbed by Killeen. We were so poor that the people on welfare were the cream of society because they had a check. That put them right up there with the civil service in the eyes of the little town.

So, as luck would have it, I won the real estate lottery, and the Beverly Hillbillies moved to Berry Creek. We ended up owning three homes there. My hand would literally shake as I wrote the checks for the mortgages each month. Our homes sat on the golf course, the main house, a recreation of Elvis’s Graceland,was positioned on the twelfth green. I was a gold member of the Berry Creek Country Club, with unlimited golf privileges. Please note that I can’t hit a golf ball, but I can drink beer, and drive a golf cart like nobody’s business.

We had NO contact with the neighbors. Their shorts were in such a knot that it amazed me they could go to the bathroom. Since my roots were back in Killeen, and my friends couldn’t afford the gas for the fifty mile trip to what was basically North Austin, nobody came a calling. When we went to the club for dinner we sat at a large, round table. No one sat near us. We were the turds in the swimming pool. (They didn’t like us going to the pool, either!)

As luck would have it, I ended up divorced, living in the main house alone. I had this friend in L.A. Lance had met me on YouTube. I admired his videos. Lance was, well is, a video genius. He did it all. He used Final Cut Pro, and was a wiz at blending story, sound, and special effects. He had this dream of coming to Texas. One day I got a call. He wasn’t COMING to Texas, he as IN Texas. Right down the street at the bus station. He had no idea how hot it was here so I had to rush to pick him up before he had a heat stroke. Poor guy showed up in a leather jacket during the summer. Hey, he’s from SoCal, ok?

After he settled in we hung out on the porch and got to know each other. Now, this guy is like Bob Denver from Gilligan’s Island, complete with the Dixie Cup sailor’s cap, and he even played a flute. My son, and his wife, Jackie moved in along about this time, and we had a rather comfortable little group. About a week or so after he arrived, Lance received a package that he had mailed himself from California prior to hopping on the bus. Several quart jars of his “prescription” to help him get through the summer. After we saw him unpack we just waited for the cops to show up. I’ll never understand how Lance got away with that. While I, myself, do not partake, suffice to say everybody else did, including the cat, and in short order the house on the twelfth green became the Yellow Submarine. This was a very laid back group. We didn’t mind that the neighbors didn’t have anything to do with us, we barely noticed that there were other HOUSES in the area.

One Sunday afternoon we were setting up a cookout on the back lawn. We put meat on the grill, I got beer, wine, and cheese, and we commenced our own private party as the golfers played through. My son and I looked up, and here came Lance with a water pipe I’d gotten from Afghanistan. And brothers and sisters, he was open for business. My son rushed over and let him know that he WAS in Texas, and law enforcement frowned on such action, whereupon, Lance corrected the situation by returning to the house, and emerging with a bowl. Not the bowl you think, but a real BOWL! A soup bowl you could put an entire serving of Campbell’s soup into. Like the Lord said, “Filled and pressed down!”

As the golfers played through, Lance fired up, and enjoyed the view. I jumped off into a pitcher of martinis, and I must admit, the view wasn’t bad. As luck would have it, it wasn’t long before the smell permeated the atmosphere, and drew the attention of two rather distinguished looking gentlemen who drove their cart right up onto the lawn to inquire as to just what did wet think we were doing. They  had a bottle! Well, there was no getting out of this. Lance, being Lance, simply showed them the bowl, and then astounded me by asking them if they’d like to “hang out!” As I tried to construct my legal defense, to my amazement, they sat down. Lance rolled a “Fat Boy,” and passed it around.

Then another golf cart showed up . . . and another . . . and another, until we had a lawn full if people I’d never met in my eight years at Berry Creek. There was also a traffic jam on the twelfth, with a couple of carts just going in circles. The course Marshall didn’t mind because he was sitting with Lance! The day melted into the evening, and soon it was gone, as if it never happened. Lance went home after that, but he left his mark. I go there now and then, pause in front of the house on Oak Tree Drive, and wonder what became of all those people. What I do know is on one Sunday afternoon, for a little while, we were all neighbors.

I Love Servicemen and Women

IMG_0060I love servicemen, and women. People who charge into the breech, protecting us while we sleep without a second thought. Those who keep the watch. War is always an unpopular decision, and as it drags on it becomes more unpopular, but the soldiers who wage it are but the instruments of political will, not the directors. The way it’s supposed to work is some foreign nation attacks America, and our armed forces repel that action. The president, and congress are supposed to reflect the will of the people. Sadly, of late, such is not the case.

I remember so vividly, during the Vietnam war, the ire against it turned on our returning troops. Part of the North Vietnamese strategy was to sow discontent among the American people, a plan that some in position fell into step. People such as Jane Fonda, Donald Sutherland, and yes, John Kerry, all marching to the Vietnamese drum. The political winds that were blowing had indeed driven us into a war with no purpose. History has proven that the little Asian nation made absolutely no difference at all to the world stage. Eventually, they got a unified country, and we got a wall!

The soldiers came home, the war was over, but there were no parades, no flags, no “VE” day, just broken men and women, trying to forget. Politics did that to them, not the war. When you go far from home to fight you simply have to have the reason to do so. With the horror of war you must know, in your heart, that there is a reason for it. You have the right to expect that upon coming home, the memories will be silenced by the applause if the people at the airport. You do not expect to be spit upon. You do not expect the ghosts to still be there forty years later.

America has made an entire industry of protecting the “freedom” of other nations. Again, politics plays the role, not the will of the people. Politicians invent, and arm entities such as Al Qaeda, and then stand back in snake amazement when the mad dog they fed bites us! And their reasoning? Russia might take over the world! History has shown that Russia did good just taking over Russia! Their weak hold went away like cotton candy when they tried to match America dollar for Ruble in the “cold” war. When the twin towers went down we rushed to seek the perpetrators. It wasn’t hard to figure out. In effect, we had bought the plane tickets. The politicians, and their lapdogs in the CIA had unleashed that terror, and the very word, “terror” became a catch phrase in order to get the American people to sell their freedom, shred the constitution, and allow our soldiers to charge off after one crazy old man on a walking stick because, yet again, someone might take over the world!

Do you want to know what the Trump phenomenon really is? I’ll tell you. It is the outrage of the American people at the political wasteland they’ve had to endure for the last fifty years. It’s the arrogance of people like Hillary Clinton, who point at a successful American businessman, and claim he isn’t savvy enough to direct the ship of state because that ship has been floundering so long that only the most consummate liar can even hope to guide it. The very idea that the government of the people is far beyond the people’s understanding, and our only hope is this ruling class, this Illuminati, this new royalty. That’s the reason Donald Trump will be the next president of the United States! The American people are taking over the White House, and if we ever have a just war in the future there will be applause at the airport. I love servicemen, and women. Continue reading “I Love Servicemen and Women”

The God Particle

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Got all into something called “The God Particle” this week.   I believe in God. In spite of my shifts in concepts, I have always believed in an unmoved mover. I watched the most beautifully produced documentary just the other day about the proofs behind this and in the end found out that it had been made by Muslims. In the conclusion of the work the narrator says, “Allah,” but by this time I’d forwarded it to a lot of my believing friends. Being a reasoning person I had to accept that truth is truth. The video scientifically analyzed the mathematical preciseness of the organization of the universe, and demonstrated that how if one tiny thing were not exactly in place the whole thing would disintegrate into utter chaos. It addressed evolution by demonstrating that there was a certain level of geological history where life virtually exploded and contrary to Darwin’s idea that life evolved from a single root that grew upward in ever increasing diversity, the “tree” was actually upside down and life had in effect came into existence quiet suddenly and began to “fine tune” as some species failed the test and disappeared from the scene. It showed an equation called 1.618 that governed everything from the shape of galaxies to the number of petals on a sunflower, to the proportions of a pretty girl’s face. And it was put together by Muslims!

 

     Then I spent several days watching a series called, “How The Earth Was Made,” and got the same information. The very planet we call home is so complex, with intertwining systems so closely connected that it is almost beyond comprehension. One segment explained how Antarctica, with all of its inhospitable conditions, virtually controls our entire weather system by producing brine that creeps along the ocean floor thereby articulating the currents that flow around the globe. One last video studied what would happen if the earth’s rotation slowed only one mile per hour and the result would be devastating! The very moon operates as a balance, keeping the earth rotation in a synced fashion, enabling the weather system to remain constant, within certain parameters which, if it were not so, one year New York would be New York, and the next it may be situated near one of the poles.

 

     Great minds, such as Stephen Hawking say that when things get too complicated the theist will just fall back on a “god” in a vain effort to avoid the question, while they, themselves, when their own model fails will suggest a multiple-universe theory in effect claiming that if the model doesn’t work just apply layer upon layer until it does or any opposition simply gives up in exasperation.

 

     My concept of God is that of a great creative force that we, as mortals, will never understand, we aren’t capable. Jesus was strapped with trying to educate simple fishermen, a tax collector, and a few women as to the way the universe works. Did He try to explain the time-space continuum to them? Certainly not! At the last supper, did he try to hold a lecture on molecular reorganization, or the presence of dark matter, no. He held up a piece of bread and told them, “This is my body. Whenever you have this ritual you need to remember that!” Jesus was explaining to them in terms they could get their minds around. They understood the Passover, and all it meant to them, as Jews, and He was the ultimate Passover for all people.

 

     We, as Christians, no, let me rephrase that, as believers, have to accept that there are some who will never accept our concept, or explanations for the order of the universe no matter how persuasive our argument. For all their scientific method they will abandon it, and proceed on the premise that there simply cannot BE a god and any system that makes that claim is simply rejected outright. You will never change these people. I didn’t change my ideas while watching all of the documentaries I cited above. They merely reinforced what I already suspected. And, if you will note, when you forget about all the arguments about Jesus and Mohammed, the Muslim work was outstanding in its direct analyzation of the science of mathematics and the correlation to the universe.

 

     As believers, our explanations look absurd to atheists. Atheists have a hands on, linear methodology in their universal view, but does that make them evil? Certainly not! A girl in high school on the East Coast wanted to start a club geared to atheists like herself so she, and other likeminded kids could gather and discuss ideas, and feel a oneness. At first the school absolutely forbade it, but after the ACLU got involved she was allowed to form her group, but was then bullied into giving it up by the “Christian” community around her. Tell me how those “Christians” were any different than a radical Muslim who believes he must destroy all “infidels” to spread his “faith?” She was accused of being a Satanist. This is so far in left field if defies explanation but I’ll try. A Satanist is a believer. Jesus said, “Even the demons believe in God, and they tremble.” People who subscribe to this mind set believe there is a god but choose the opposite path. To me they’re like the kid, when we all went to the movies on Saturday, who would cheer for the guy in the black hat. For whatever psychological reason they have rejected what is regarded as proper by most other believers for the side that is completely opposite to that. The atheist simple rejects any spiritual explanation of the universe, preferring a physical model instead.

 

     As long as you live you will be formulating your world view. Mine has evolved so much that it barely resembles what was in my head at sixteen years old. The one constant remains: There has to be a designer for such a finely turned situation. Can I explain this to a non-believer? Nope. Can I, myself even ever completely understand this designer? Absolutely not! Should I judge, or cast stones at someone who doesn’t subscribe to my very own ever changing view? Well, Jesus, Himself, said, “Judge not lest you be judged.” Now, He didn’t say that to be clever. He said that because He knew we could never get our finite minds around the infinite. I am comfortable with accepting Biblical principles. The young atheist simply is not.

 

     I am always amazed at the knee-jerk reaction to any inclusion of Biblical principles in government. Put a statue of the ten commandments on the courthouse lawn and certain groups lose their collective minds. The ten commandments are an early example of codified law given to a bunch of people trying to carve out a civilized existence out of a horrible situation.     I hear all the time about the separation of church and state, but that’s not what the first amendment is all about It says, “Congress shall make no law respecting the ESTABLISHMENT of religion …” It forbids Congress from jumping up and making the Baptist Church the official religion of the United States. It does NOT nullify bringing your morals, common sense or life experiences to the table when you vote, or make decisions. How else can you make these decisions? You see, that’s what’s wrong with this whole idea that we have to blindly accept that we really have no opinion or options when it comes to government. When Congress sits in session can they impose religious guidelines and restrictions on the rest of us? Constitution says they cannot. Can they let their experience, morality, and personal beliefs guide how they will vote? You bet they can, and DO! Should they have anything to do with the little atheist girl wanting to form a club with her likeminded friends? Well, that’s where my Libertarian beliefs kick in. They have a right to their beliefs, and she has a right to hers!

 

     You will never convert this little girl. Conversion comes from within. You will never scare a gay person straight. For whatever psychological reasons that mold our sexuality it is OUR mold. Our INDIVIDUAL mold. Lead by example. Live your lives by your principles and if those principles are sound, kind,and not bigoted there are those who will approve. Cast your bread upon the water, and maybe, just maybe, you’ll get back a sandwich! And that, my friends, is the true God Particle.

Retrospect

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I get into a little light religion here and there, and really enjoy going on YouTube and watching the denominations tear each other up. On The Eighth Day God Made Texas was a little jab at a guy I caught trying to tear the Salt Lake City Temple down brick by brick.

Ah So! was actually a much older article, but the song has remained so much the same I just dusted it off and threw it up. Saw a Chinese billionaire today, as a matter of fact, and yet again wonderer, didn’t these people used to be communist?

I drew Scared from the fact that most people are scared of the government. You simply can’t watch Lavoy Finicum, Ruby Ridge or Waco (2) and not be scared. We’ve become a nation of people trying to keep our heads down. With the upcoming rally in North Texas on June 4th, security is a major concern because no one really knows what the BLM is going to do. These people make up the rules as they go along, and will shoot you on the side of the road! Scared! Yeah, good title.

What We Burn In Our Crazy Mind goes back to my theory that the government us useless.  I can’t name one time in my life that I’ve seen the government successfully carry out anything. And SECRETS? Clinton couldn’t carry out a date with the secret service on the lookout for the wife!

Every now and then one takes inventory. With a writer that involves getting up one morning and believing that they’ve never produced anything in their life worth a flip. Stripes was such an inventory. John Lennon had his moment right before he wrote “Nowhere Man.” After that dark moment you really should chart a course of action, hopefully one that works. Consequently, here you are reading this article. In the words of Billy Joe Shaver, “I sold some songs in Memphis, sold one in LA too. I’ve sold some songs in Austin, sold songs in Austin too. Unless I miss my guess folk, Ima sell this song to you.”

As soon as I pulled my head out of my little pity party my sense of humor returned, and I picked the funniest bunch of screw ups I could find to break out; The Federal Reserve. I’d actually just read a very informative article on this, but it was too wordy for Texas so I just boiled it down to My Business Plan. I had to come up with a good picture so I picked a pimp. I used a white pimp so the libtards couldn’t call me a racist.

The week wound up with I Don’t See No Trump Train. I was rather amused by Ted Cruz choosing a running mate the day after picking himself up off the mat. I’ll never understand politics. Donald Trump is putting the wood to the establishment and he’s establishment! The election is gonna be “Yuge!”

Looking Back This Week

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Looking back this week is slim due to my travels, but the articles that did come out were heavy. Donald Trump dropped the ball on abortion, and I addressed that in Deep Survival. What that was all about was the tendency of people, while in the midst of a winning streak, or performing everyday tasks will sometimes do the dumbest things for apparently no reason, either getting killed, or in this case, killing a political career. While it remains to be seen how much damage the statement in question caused, one would think that the “Donald” would have at least taken a breath before making it. We shall see.

I’ve always viewed “No Knock” warrants as an affront to the 4th Amendment and Knock Knock is a prime example of this. I’m still looking into the event, the cops claiming the entire drug cartel was holed up in the apartment, while the man arrested is saying he was just reading his Bible, you know, you get that. The esteemed District Attorney of Bell County, Texas has seen fit to charge the man with capital murder. I’m not going to put this down. If this was a home invasion, and the man was just defending himself I’m gonna let the D. A. taste my mutton and see how he likes it.

The Eight-Hundred-Pound Gorilla and Votes, Lies, and Videotapes basically deal with the same subject, the subject being that the Republican Party is by no means “pubic” but a “Good Ol’ Boys” club that does what it damn well pleases, and its supporters can just stuff it. I was very pleased to see that following that post Wild Bill For America followed with The End of the GOP. Like me, he is direct, to the point, and calls it like it is, which is, the Republican Party has been out of control for years, and Donald Trump is on them like Chris Hansen on a pervert! They may get their way this time, but this is not going to end well for the Party. Trump has a broad base support, and the smoke and mirrors generated by his own party is so obvious that the blind man down on Main Street can see it.

It’s good to be back in Texas. Travel is great, but those 737 wheels touching down in Austin is better. I found the Mormon Culture to be a little more mundane than I’d supposed, basically a survivalist sect, bent on isolation out of disgust at what’s happening in America today. Kinda like Texas. I’m convinced that if Texas and Utah team up the fat lady will definitely sing. Joseph did you know we’s all gonna ride the train?

The Two Weeks That Were

I missed my weekly summary last week because I was on the road so this is the TWO weeks that were. I’m up in Utah for a week or two, and I’m getting plugged into the climate, both weather wise and political. My sinuses cleared up. God, I hope I’m not allergic to Texas. I touched on something yesterday, and I’m going to start off there. In Them and Us I tried to tie in the common interests of Utah and Texas, which are profound. Brigham Young was a lot like Donald Trump. Now, the man had his ways, but he took a group of people and struck out for the desert to found a nation, and a culture, and like Texas, the LDS people are clinging to their heritage. My message was, “We are with you. You are not alone.”

Guns, Glory, and Midgets was in response to some fool who went after me on gun control. This guy was a classic, and I just couldn’t put him away. This is a real danger, people. These people are out there, and they make kids! I can’t believe that a man who thinks like this has the brain cells to power a heart and liver, but I’m not a doctor. Talk about zombie. Here it is, I say HERE IT IS!

Suspicious was actually three ideas that came together that was sent to me by Kate Beecham, Casey Nunez, and Teddy Bear. I began to see a common denominator and tied them up with a pretty bow.

The Law of the Jungle was in answer to the current rage of protesting Donald Trump’s rallies. Was it racist enough for ya? Hey, Ah’m from TEXAS, and I don’t buy into Political Correctness one little bit.

Ain’t No Run When The Rabbit’s Got The Gun was after I watched LaVoy Finicum’s daughter wipe her nose and talk about her daddy. God! I love that  kid! If you ever have any doubt about what we are up against just pull your head out of Mr. Butt, and look this little girl in the face.

Dramatic New Footage From Oregon. One picture is worth a thousand words, and this was the one picture that clearly shows a government that is out of control. The cell phone footage from inside the SUV in Oregon shows terrified people, a useless attack, and a man that was no threat to the officers. Finicum was on his way to a sheriff. Why were the Oregon State Police, and FBI so scared of a sheriff?

The Enemy Within dispels the myth of Carlos the friendly orange picker. Our borders are under attack. No other country in the world puts up with what we have going on down there, and the administration tries to make Americans who scream about it look like a bunch of irrational fanatics. Point of fact: ONE Mexican got over the White House fence and almost shut down the government. If you go to the Texas border you’d think you were at the Alamo. Yet again, Trump is on point, and keeps sticking that point to the government time, and time again.

As a complimentary piece San Jacinto Redux puts flesh on the bones of illegal immigration. My man in the street, Teddy Bear, has identified the organized effort to place not orange pickers, but soldiers in place, all over America, for the day when they rise up, with the help of the UN, and take over the country. Scary stuff if you’re not a Texan. Houston knew the remedy for the Alamo, and we know the one for this.

Thought I’d give a little lesson in politics so I wrote See Ted Run. Simple piece, really, with a simple message. Since this article, Rubio dropped out, and Cruz is jockeying for a VP slot. Times sure change fast.

Think I can’t be Politically Correct, or sanitize a piece?  I wanted so BAD to call this one Super Tuesday and Hand Jobs, but opted for Super Tuesday and Hand SIZES. No wonder the Democrats laugh at us.

Man! I didn’t even know there WAS still a KKK until I wrote David Duke. Fact: If there is still a Klan the members have to show up in their wheel chairs and oxygen, but, they still scare the pants off of “some” people. All in all, this was a dirty trick by the Dems to discredit Trump just like the guys in sheets photographed holding Trump signs. You remember those guys. The ones with the black hands?

Even though I’m not a practicing Catholic anymore I still feel the need for confession and Arrested For Driving While Blind was it. I’d love to say I made this article up, but fact is I held back because I want to continue to work for the Trib.

And that was the weeks that were. I’m on vacation, but I’ll be back in Texas soon. Hopefully the politicians will continue to provide me with subjects to expound on, and the price of whiskey doesn’t go up too much. Ya’ll be cool. Peace out!

Arrested For Driving While Blind

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Arrested for driving while blind. Friends and neighbors, brothers and sisters, that old ZZ Top line is about the only thing I haven’t done, and I’ve done it all. If there is anything I missed, it’s only because no one told me about it. If you want to dig dirt on me, you’d better bring a dump truck. I have been in country music for forty plus years, and I mean the real music business. I wasn’t just hanging around some bar, hoping my family might drop in and hear me play a guitar, I was a writer, and I wrote my way all the way to Nashville. Unless you’ve been living under a big yellow rock you’ve probably heard something I have written.

My mother once told me that if I ever hurt a decent girl she’d beat me to death with an iron skillet, so for the first four marriages (yeah, I said four) I married sluts. Number five was a thirty year ordeal, where I kept trying to leave, and she kept following. We finally divorced, but she wouldn’t let me leave, so here I am. As time and tears went by I began to settle down. There were two major factors contributing to this: One, I got too damn old, and two, I got tired of making bail. Somehow I came through all of this with my health, which is a miracle, because I quit drinking when they invented the funnel. Today I will still take a little Jim Beam, but nowhere near my glory days. I’m partial to a martini.

So where am I going with all of this? It’s simple actually. I see people all the time living in the past. They had a bad childhood. Let me tell you about a bad childhood. I am certified white trash. The first time I saw a fruit display on a formal table I tried to eat the wax apple. I hear someone on Doctor Phil going on and on about an abusive father, but let me school you, my dad was a roofer in Texas for thirty years, and being a roofer in Texas is about as bad a job as you can get, if you don’t count being a slave. My dad wouldn’t whip us, he’d knock us through the wall. Good news was that we were quick, and he only had to knock us through one wall for us kids to catch on. We were so poor we thought the people on welfare had government jobs because they had a check!

Human beings become better through ordeal. Steel becomes stronger through tempering. What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger. Texas has never been easy. This is hard country out here. Our wages are low, and our hours are long, but we know the deal. You really have to believe in God, because if you don’t then none of this makes any sense. I couldn’t understand a word of the Bible until I was thirty-five years old. We had that old King James Version, and with all the “Thees” and “Thous” I just couldn’t connect the dots. Life connected the dots for me. I began to realize that if you cast your bread upon the water you’d get back a sandwich.

Writers are a special lot. For me, writing is therapy. As the words form on the page I vocalize, and when I vocalize, I begin to see the logic, and understand not only other people, but my own situation. I don’t believe in all this psychiatry stuff, and theories, or drugs, or mind control. I believe that most thinking people, over fifty years, can figure out what hurts, and what doesn’t hurt. You begin to see that there is room in the world for other ideas, and just because you don’t agree with them, they are just ideas. When I hear a liberal expounding some whacky “Bernie Sanders” plan, I know it won’t work, but rather than go tit for tat I understand that it’s all fine because good Lord willing and the creek don’t rise, they’ll have the same fifty years that I had to figure it all out. It’s all so simple. This will put a meal on the table, and that won’t.

I do understand the Bible now, but there’s a lot of “fluff” in it. The truths that Jesus spoke of were down to earth facts. Don’t judge. I never judge! When someone does something that I think is bad, I’ll just remember back when I did exactly the same thing, and be glad the statute of limitations has run out. We have all fallen short of the glory, and I fell short the day the doctor said, “Hey,” and I said, “Huh?”

It all boils down to this: You get what you expect. If you dwell in the past you will always be there. If you set goals, no matter how remote, you may not get there, but you’ll be on the way, and the journey is half the joy. We all make mistakes. What seemed so serious back then, will just be funny as you recount it to a friend at a local pub. The sad part of life is if you live long enough to figure it out then you’ll come to the same conclusions that I did after you are old, and young people have it all “figured out,” and will not listen as they begin their journey toward “the truth.”

If you want to dig dirt on me, you’d better bring a dump truck, because I’ve done it all, and if there’s anything I missed it’s only because no one told me about it, and I’m man enough to admit it! I’ve found one person who totally understands me. She sleeps with me, eats with me, agrees with everything I say, and cries when I’m away. In the spirit of the recent Supreme Court ruling on marriage I have decided to marry my dog.

That Was The Week That Was

http://www.teapartytribune.com/2016/01/24/that-was-the-week-that-was/That Was The Week That Was

From reflections to events, but that’s the way my week usually goes. Unlike other writers, I don’t just jump on the morning news, even in a big event, I let the story “season,” because first thoughts are never the correct thoughts. What happened is never as important as why it happened, because if we don’t reflect, and learn, then we’ll just keep doing the same thing over and over again, and, as you probably know, that’s the definition of insanity.
I began the week with an idea of the eventual breakup of the American Dream, i.e. set up a government to steal everything, and try to cram it into the Beltway. In “God Bless Americans,” I said, “As we all know, the American government has been overreaching for years, and part of this is because of the artificial definitions of who’s who, and what’s what. Most of the time Federal mandates, and decisions are mandatory, and arbitrary. States make laws, but why? All Uncle Sam has to do is make His law, and the state legislature becomes a complete waste of time. K. C. Massey can carry a gun under Texas law, Sammy says, “No,” K. C. goes to jail. Someone can fire up a joint in Malibu, DEA doesn’t like it, guy gets arrested and has a criminal record. Fundamentalist Mormon wants to marry twin sisters and the Fed can’t seem to find the ink to put one more square on a tax form. See where this is going, folks?”
From there I let old Brother Greed get ahold of me and penned, If I Had Won The Powerball. I ain’t even gonna lie to you. I had that money spent, and I listed all my dreams for the public to see. “If I had won the Powerball. I sat up last night waiting for the Powerball drawing. I didn’t get a single number. You’d think there would be a prize for that! Anyway, like practically every other fool who invested in castles in the air, and purchased a Powerball ticket, I had big plans. I’d like to list them here. They ranged from the sublime to the sub-slime, but here goes.” Well, as you probably figured out, I didn’t win, and had to rush down to pay the light bill the next day.
Politics raised its ugly head next, ugly being the key word. Hey, for the record, I understand why Bill cheated on Hillary, ok. I kept having images of Arkansas politicians, ugly women, and cornbread swirling around in my head and out popped, Dead As Cornbread. “From White Water to Benghazi, Hillary has danced on a razor’s edge for years. Other people in the public eye can commit just a smidgen of what she’s pulled and they’re thrown out of the Army, charged with a crime, end up with public ridicule, and Alex Jones accuses them of leading the New World Order. Hillary could pee on the White House steps and the Liberal Left would say she had found a new way to fix global warming. Am I the only one who thinks there is something wrong with this picture?”
Where Everybody Knows Your Name was next. I have no idea where this idea sprang from, but I suspect it was a bar tab. “Places like this never last, and that’ sad. Just a place where seasoned men come to relax and compare lives. I gain more there than any other place I go. I listen more than I talk, and I learn. These guys view things like ISIS with a very jaundiced eye. And everybody knows your name. I like that.”
That night I listened to my friend, Scott Binsack, reflect on his belief in an Eternal Creator, and wrote, In God We Trust. “God got expelled from school, His commandments from the courthouse square, and from the halls of Congress, and we wonder what ever happened to the country. God is a nice guy. You don’t have to throw him out, just ask Him to leave, and he’ll oblige. And, when He does leave what do you have left? Bruce Gender, Hillary, Obama, and Imam whoever! Children don’t say prayers, or the Pledge of Allegiance in school anymore. They learn how to do drugs, and different sexual preferences, depending on the gender, or cross-gender of the teacher. Welcome to a Godless world!”
I’m very TexCentric, and it showed in Olga vs The American Dream. “This was a big heads up to the third world. While Washington wasn’t invaded, America, for once, had to stand down. We, of course, put the spin on it. We were like Putin recently said. We were like playing chess with a pigeon. We knocked over all the pieces, pooped on the board, and then stomped around like we won. Still, we had the dream. Or rather, Martin Luther King had a dream. Our dream had caught the last train for the coast.”
Seems I was drawn to the past a lot this week. During lunch with some old friends, we got to talking about our high school days, and a few things came to mind. In The Last Picture Show I wrote about things that would make kids in New York, or California would cringe at. “I didn’t have a pickup. I had a ’54 Chevy. The good thing about it was you could get four friends in the trunk when you went to the show. That meant for you, and the girl, it cost about seventy cents to get in. That’s right, one girl, five boys. Hey, we weren’t Muslims, she was safe. Also, if you were lucky she would be an Army brat and have five dollars or so in her purse, which would turn into buttered popcorn for everybody. The way you convinced her to give up the money was a gift, usually flowers, which meant a swing through the graveyard on the way to pick her up. They didn’t show that in the Last Picture Show either!”
By the week’s end I was blowing through pretty good. Still reflecting on Scott’s broadcast, I did a commentary on my first book, Sharon. “The Muslim community has got to come to the realization that the volatile section of Radical Islam is so dangerous to the rest of the world that they, the “good” Muslims need to handle it, or we, the rest of humanity will have to handle it for them.”
I was flying so high that I began to generate “doubles,” by this time. When I get an idea I just write it, no waiting for later. After listening to a Trump speech I resurrected Little Red Riding Republican with a nice 2016 update. “Well, that’s where Little Red Riding Republican comes in. She had been raised in the wisdom handed down from generation to generation. She had eyes of blue, and flaxen hair that fell down around her shoulders. She would take long walks in the country, and one day, during one of these walks she became lost and a figure appeared out of thin air. It was a black knight!”
And, last, but certainly not least, Black Lives Don’t Matter! Actually, I’ve toyed with this title for months, but I just couldn’t take the edge off enough. When someone came back with ALL Lives Matter, I thought to myself, “Heck, why don’t we just join hands and sing, “We Shall Overcome?” Finally, I came up with a perfect second line. For the record, Black Lives Matter is the epitome of Liberal Stupidity. You simply have to have the guts to put it out there. Everybody knows movements like this are stupid, and the originators laugh all the way to the bank. Unfortunately for them I write for the Tea Party, not the Pot Party! That’s why they call me Bill the Butcher! “Black lives don’t matter! My life matters! In the words of Billy Joe Shaver, “When you have no way to go you’d better know I’m gonna get my share of mine.” Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m a racist. More than that, I’m a Texan. Texas wasn’t built on a food stamp. America has evolved into a welfare state. In Texas we have a thing called a “51% sign.” Now, it’s supposed to refer to the amount of food vs alcohol that forbids the carrying of a gun within an establishment. In America it is the percentage of citizens working every day, as opposed to those lining up at the welfare office for their daily bread.”
Sunday is a day of rest. Well, maybe for some, but for me it’s a day of reflection. They don’t rest, so I don’t rest. I have been called, A Simple Ol’ Boy From Austin, and that’s good, because when the libtards pounce on me I can always say, “Hey! I told you I was stupid from the start.” Have a blessed week, and keep looking for America. It’s somewhere out there.

Simple Ol’ Boy From Austin

http://www.amazon.com/Simple-Boy-Austin-Wilbur-Witt/dp/1503179540/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1422121598&sr=8-1&keywords=Wilbur+Witt

Olga

Gonna pump a little sunlight up your dresses today. I watched a review, and projection of the world in the year 2030, and I saw something strange. Now understand that when I grew up in the 50’s the USA was “Da Bomb” (excuse the pun) and the entire rest of the world was “the pits.” Even as a child I realized that America was the hands down leader of the entire world. I mean we’d kicked Hitler’s butt, slapped Korea around, and even at ten years old I KNEW we made the best cigarettes. I mean it was even in the movies. If you’re my age how many times can you recall someone with a foreign accent asking, “You have American cigarette?” I mean even our girls were prettier. We had Tuesday Weld…they had some chick called Olga, and she looked like a wrestling champion!

We knew that everything made in Japan was cheap, would break very soon, and was poorly painted. That’s why people my age have a very hard time getting their mind around a Lexus. But things began to change. As we ate ourselves into cholesterol-ville the rest of the world watched, waited, and worked. They cringed a bit because the so called superpowers were always on the edge of blowing each other up and taking the rest of the world with them. There were great scenarios picturing the world after WWIII where we would all be living in squalor, fighting, eating whatever we could catch and it terrified Americans, but what we didn’t realize was that what we liked to refer to as the third world was already there! They were there watching, and waiting.

Then, about the time JFK missed his luncheon in Dallas the world made an almost imperceptible turn. The year after that day saw the Beatles pop onto the world stage. A year before, Elvis was the king and all Englishmen sounded like ducks quacking when they sang. All of the sudden “She Loves You” and five other songs were all over the Billboard charts, and the Beatles weren’t the only band in England, they had MORE!

Still, we were determined to reform the world so we jumped on the tiny nation of Vietnam to save Southeast Asia from the communists, never mind what THEY thought! By God, we had American cigarettes you little Gooks didn’t know what you were talking about! Well, we LOST that war. And I know the guys that went there will argue the point, but when you haul your butt to an aircraft carrier, and start pushing your helicopters into the ocean to gain speed that means the other guys won. This was a big heads up to the third world. While Washington wasn’t invaded, America, for once, had to stand down. We, of course, put the spin on it. We were like Putin recently said. We were like playing chess with a pigeon. We knocked over all the pieces, pooped on the board, and then stomped around like we won.

Still, we had the dream. Or rather, Martin Luther King had a dream. Our dream had caught the last train for the coast. Reagan came on the scene, and he exemplified the epitome of America right or wrong, capitalism, and American cigarettes! Hell, he’d even been on a cigarette commercial once! Reagan was a good idea. He really was the last gasp of what was once a great republic. But we fixed that. When Reagan left office we elected King George the First, thinking the Reagan legacy would live on. It took two Bushes and a Clinton and a half to completely dismantle what Reagan had so meticulously put into place. And during this time the Japanese learned to build better stuff, China grew more rice, and the USSR folded in on itself. Oh, and that little country that we spent ten years, billions of dollars, and 50,000 American lives to save? Well, they learned to grow catfish in rice paddies. (Ever eat catfish at Ryan’s cafeteria?)

When the USSR devoured itself we all expected that they would turn into something like Mexico. Well, they didn’t, and Olga began to look a little bit more feminine. Putin did not bang his shoe on the table at the UN, and God be praised, they struck oil! China was keeping their head down, growing more rice, and inching toward a form of capitalism, or reasonable facsimile thereof. By this time we were slowly realizing that the Germans DID make better cars than we did, the Brits DID make better records than we did and damn it, the Koreans even made one hell of a cigarette! But we weren’t going to have any of that. We had to show them Arabs that we could still dominate the world, we needed more oil and what the hell was in their little brown minds trying to tell us to butt out? Here, Habib, have a Big Mac! Never mind the fact that we had oil reserves right here. We wanted THEIR oil. Our only issue was THEY owned it. We couldn’t beat a bunch of skinny kids in pajamas, but maybe we could beat a bunch of religious nuts on camels.

Funny thing about people owning their own country. They tend to get irritated when a bunch of foreigners, i.e. US, comes in and starts stomping around telling them what to do, putting down their values, and stealing their resources. The whole world watched, ate their rice, and developed as we manipulated our way through the oil fields of the Middle East, and was not surprised when on 9/11 we finally got dog bit! Alex Jones goes on about how 9/11 was an inside job. NO IT WASN’T! Those people that we didn’t consider to be quite human knocked down our two great phallic symbols of capitalism and world economic domination, and they got MAD if anyone else tried to take credit for it. Osama would turn over in his watery grave if he heard Alex Jones trying to give credit for that attack to George Bush. The world watched, and worked, and waited.

King George II managed our finances so well that by the end of his reign we were buying more than we were selling. Slowly we began to covet Japanese cars, Chinese food, and imported cigars. We enriched Mexico with our insatiable appetite for cocaine. Hey folks, the MEXICANS aren’t doing all that crack, they just SELL it. Little known logistical fact! We legalized genocide with Roe vs Wade, and started letting men marry men, women marry women, and dogs marry cats. This nation went from the USA to WTF! We began to disassemble our constitution because it got in the way of our bloated, insolvent, Hedonistic lifestyle, and railed against people who wanted to preserve at least one amendment so they could at least protect themselves from a nation gone mad.

The Internet is a wonderful thing. Information began to flow. More than ten years ago I had a friend. A girl. Cute, literate, a college student who talked with me on a regular basis. We talked about life, politics, sex, and what she liked to eat. She wrote me from her class room…in China! And this was happening all over the world. No matter what the governments were putting out, people were talking. Now, it didn’t happen all at once. The legacies of people like Stalin, Bush, and Mao die hard, and they left a framework in place that rusts slowly, but new cars, food, TV, and information go a long way to wake people up. Where in 1959 I knew that China was a pagan nation that we could whip at any time I went from that to watching a Chinese TV show last night and was quite entertained. They have this show where a very cute Chinese girl asks people about to be executed about their thoughts on their crimes, and what they would say to the Chinese people about them. It’s an object lesson in control of your emotions. She made the statement to one young man who had killed his girlfriend’s grandparents because she broke up with him, “We all experience these things in life. You lost control during a normal life event.” The next scene showed her preparing dinner for her husband and four children.

Then I watched a show about Russian prisons. I thought, “Oh, this is gonna be bad!” Remember that guy that looked like Rasputin, and his book? Prior to this I saw one about how the gangs were out of control in OUR prisons. Well, the Ruskies don’t got dat problem. They got a prison called Black Dolphin, and if you want to be in a gang there, fine! It’ll be a gang on one! They make all prisoners walk stooped over with a blindfold on when going from building to building, five or six guards armed with AK47s with them and a DOG! And all these convicted murderers, cannibals, and pedophiles say is, “Yes SIR!” The most amazing thing was that the Russians flung open their prison doors and let an international film crew in. I waited patiently to see how they handled prison riots, but you simply can’t riot with your damn self. And there ain’t no basketball courts cause they don’t HAVE a prison yard! They don’t worry about rehabilitation. The prison is spotless, the convicts are in the cell, on camera ALL the time, and their cell gets searched every time they are removed and taken anywhere. No pin ups, no TV, no privacy!! They’re in the JOINT!

Are they brutal? Yes. Are they ignorant? NO! They saw what happened to us. I would love to take all the prisoners in the prison in Oakland California and ship them to Russia. As Larry the Cable Guy says, “That would be funny right there, i don’t care who you are!”

All these people are talking. All these people are watching. They have taken the best of our ideas, and rejected the bad ones. Their populace has demanded a better life and are willing to work for it. The Chinese girl has millions of viewers each week who hang on her every word. What does that tell you? Chinese people have LOTS of televisions! They are not running down the street anymore waving some silly red book, they are making dinner and watching their favorite TV show!

Maybe that is our legacy. In the 1950’s we had as close to Utopia as we would ever get and we did sell that dream to the world. The world watched, and learned, and perhaps will carry that dream forward. Olga is looking a whole lot better!

Simple Ol’ Boy From Austin

http://www.amazon.com/Simple-Boy-Austin-Wilbur-Witt/dp/1503179540/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1422121598&sr=8-1&keywords=Wilbur+Witt

If I Had Won The Powerball

If I had won the Powerball. I sat up last night waiting for the Powerball drawing. I didn’t get a single number. You’d think there would be a prize for that! Anyway, like practically every other fool who invested in castles in the air, and purchased a Powerball ticket, I had big plans. I’d like to list them here. They ranged from the sublime to the sub-slime, but here goes.
If I had won the Powerball:
With Miley Cyrus’ career of indulging in the disgusting, I would offer her ten million dollars, tax free, to clean my toes with her tongue. I would offer her dad another five million to sing, “Achy Breaky Heart” to me while she did it.
I would hire the Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders to cheer outside the White House fence wearing Trump T-shirts.
I would offer Michael Moore unlimited ham sandwiches for life if he would become a card carrying Republican.
I would take Vladimir Putin’s wife to dinner.
I would give Putin a case of Vodka when I did it.
I would spring for El Chapo’s bail, and ask him to introduce me to that Mexican movie starlet that got him caught.
I would offer to pay for divorces for any gay couple that applied.
I would offer to pay for Michelle Obama’s divorce.
I would buy the Playboy Mansion currently for sale, and donate it to the Catholic Church.
I would offer Hillary any amount she asked if she’d do a lap dance on Bernie Sanders.
I would buy Bernie Sanders a Nitroglycerin pill.
I would offer Fidel Castro fifty million to be photographed smoking a Pall Mall cigarette.
On that Miley Cyrus deal, I’d invite Britney Spears to make it a three-some. (Yeah, I’m old school.)
I’d give Bruce Gender one hundred million to move to a Muslim country.
I’d fly all my ex’s to Texas to play a baseball game.
I’d set aside a trust fund for my granddaughter, Kylie, to go through college through her doctorate, provided she does it at the University of Texas.
I would buy one million copies of my latest book to force the New York Times to put it on their best seller list.
I’d pay the editor of the Times thirty million to write an article claiming that book was the best thing since sliced bread.
I would offer to pay for Wendy Davis to remove that wart from her face.
I’d buy Greg Abbott a HoverRound.
I’d buy Paul Ryan a personality. Make that two, I’d buy another one for Ken Paxton.
I’d buy Disney Studios and make them go back to making Mickey Mouse cartoons and get out of child porn.
I’d pay for DNA tests on Obama’s daughters.
I’d open a string of bars in Utah and have the cocktail waitresses dress as Mormon Missionaries.
I’d hire a staff to rewrite the Qu’ran, and offer ten million to any Mosque that used it. Don’t think they’d take it? If you think that have I got a bridge for you, and it’s on SALE!
Those Utah waitresses . . . put them in the Mosques, too.
I would buy the Westboro Baptist Church, bulldoze it to the ground and replace it with a Gay Bar.
I would spring for the lawyers for all the guys in Waco who were arrested after the murder of their friends, and offer the City of Waco one hundred million if the DA would wear a clown’s suit during his next trial.
I would buy the Church of Scientology and put Penn Jillette in charge of it.
Make that three personalities, Joe Biden.
And last but not least, I’d take Crystal Lee Laramoreand the entire staff of Raging Elephants to the best dinner they’ve ever had, in a stretch limo!

Simple Ol’ Boy From Austin

http://www.amazon.com/Simple-Boy-Austin-Wilbur-Witt/dp/1503179540/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1422121598&sr=8-1&keywords=Wilbur+Witt