That Was The Week That Was 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


I’m Contraversial

I’m controversial. I suppose that goes without saying. I actually do not have a stated course, or agenda, other than Texas Freedom. Sometimes I will research an article for days before it jells and I know which way I’m going. Good case in point was this weekend where I watched dozens of documentaries, reviewed hundreds of news stories and read the works of Josephus. In addition to that I reviewed James Randi, Aron Ra, and a couple of Rabbis I know over in Jerusalem, all to boil it all down to six hundred words on this morning’s posting. That’s another of my tricks. If I can’t make my point in six hundred words I have to research more.
I fly high above the subject. Trying not to get tied down with useless argument, or commentary, I go for the human understanding we all have. That’s why I call myself a Simple Ol’ Boy From Austin. If a waitress can’t understand what I’m trying to say, I rewrite. I scatter shot, i.e. one day I’ll address the ISIS situation, and the next day will write about my first kiss from Pam Burns back in high school. If there is a common thread in my work I’ve yet to see it. Maybe fifty years after I’m dead some professor will figure me out.
I handle criticism well. Well, I handle it well if the person criticizing me is of note. If it’s some former in-law who can’t compose a grocery list I get pissed off. But if it’s a national talk show host I consider that on the same level as a kiss from Ivana Trump. This simple fact of the matter is that if you only write about polka dots and pink shoe laces no one will ever read you. You never know what will set someone off. I do not deliberately try to offend. On a one to one conversation I never discuss religion. I’ve tried. Always ends with someone sending me to hell.
I’m developing as a writer. At sixty-four I’ve just about got this thing figured out. There’s a girl out in Nolanville who screens my stuff for grammatical errors. Consequently, I make sure I include one in every article. Also, I put one mistake in every one. A little tease to see if someone catches it. I’m crazy like that. I’m a free-lance writer, in that there is no money in blogging, or at least it has eluded me. But, that’s no surprise. I couldn’t sell a condom in a whorehouse. Sales is not my calling.
Sometimes a subject will evade me. This morning I had all intentions of dissecting “Clock Boy.” Even had the picture ready. Then, I looked at this little nerdy kid and thought, “Gonna give him a break.” He’s beginning to figure out his parents are whacked. Kid wants to come back to Texas. I can’t hate that. Buy that boy a Taco. Beef taco!
I hate abortion, black lives mattering, Bruce Gender and Vodka Martinis. I love Gin Martinis, fine cigars, and any girl stupid enough to hang around me. I believe in God, but not religion. Religion is man’s feeble attempt to explain the unexplainable. The reason I believe in God is we still can’t make a leaf. I listened to hours of atheists this weekend trying to find out how to make a leaf, and those idiots didn’t even have a formula for a dry martini.
So, until assassination, I will continue to write. Entertain both myself and the public. Having said that you’ll note I’ve reached six hundred words.

Simple Ol’ Boy From Austin

I Have a Dream

I have a dream. I see an America where you can go into a restroom at any time, regardless of gender, and indulge in any act of depravity that suits your fancy, I have a dream. I envision a time when you can have relations with any person, of any sex, anywhere, anytime, and if that person is a child it will be understood that you are not diseased you are only “minor attracted,” I have a dream! A world where only the most disenfranchised, the most confused, the most sociopathic are allowed to have a gun and the rest are secure in gun free zones oh, I have a dream today.

I can clearly see a time when the Statue of Liberty will welcome the tired, the poor, the huddled masses yearning to take everything they can without even a bubble gum wrapper of paperwork allowing entry, and their culture will supplant the Constitution because a goat herder talked to some angel in a cave fourteen hundred years ago, I have a dream! I see a beautiful vision where a man is voted woman of the year, and Christian churches throw open their doors to the devil. In this brave new world the Qu’ran will be revered and the Bible will be against the law, where women wear sack cloth and high school cheer leaders are assaulted for being beautiful, oh, Lord, I have a DREAM!!

I see a world where entire cities are turned over to anyone who needs a “get out of jail free” card until those cities are degraded to the level of a war zone and no citizen is safe to even take a bus to the mall, what a glorious dream I have today. I see women being killed while having ice cream on a pier with their father and Judges at a loss trying to decide if it is a crime because the killer is not American.

In my dream I see a school system with standards so low that the Russians laugh at graduates from it who can’t even write their own names, I have a dream today. I see an economy so degraded that the Mexicans start jumping the border to get back into Mexico after they rob, rape and kill, and no man may say anything about it for fear of the god of political correctness, I have a dream today.

I dream of the day when all of God’s children, should they survive abortion, will not be judged by the content of their character, but by the content of their pocket, I have a dream. A day when they run down the middle of the street, under the Rainbow Flag screaming, “Free at Last! Free at last!” I will not be there with you. I shall not cross over. God has not chosen me. Do not be disinherited, however. I’ll be in Canada! I have a dream.

The word you’re looking for is “Facetious.”

Simple Ol’ Boy From Austin

Quarters in a Cup

I’ve been exposed to Mormon beliefs for a long time. Having been a writer for a while, and, on a Texas, national, and even international scale, I take a more or less detached view of not just LDS, but most organized religion. While I would not challenge anyone’s personal belief se,t I take two steps back, and cast a jaundiced eye toward McReligion. I also mix in a good old portion of just plain common sense. Being a Catholic in a former life I understand that all faiths have certain things peculiar to that particular faith, so I would never challenge my friend Doc Greene in his faith because a one on one relationship with Jesus is never bad.

So why does Mormonism rub me the wrong way? As a secular humanist, why would I get mad listening to them rattle on? Lies and inconsistencies! There is a vast gulf between accepting things on faith, the resurrection, virgin birth, miracles, and such, but when you are confronted with stories that confound common sense, especially when these stories can be blatantly disproved you must question the force behind the belief set. The debate between religions is always the same. My invisible guy in the sky can whip your invisible guy in the sky. Theology is man’s feeble attempt to explain the unexplainable. When the dots don’t connect I ask why, and when I say ask why I’m asking from a Biblical and psychological standpoint. When you discuss their faith from the Bible Mormons will twist it. When you are a secular humanist, but try to work from a Biblical foundation, and combine this with an understanding of the makeup of the human mind their tactics begin to unravel rapidly and it always ends in a big argument.

I’m a big student of Penn and Teller. The intricacies of magic amaze me. Moreover, the rules of magic are foundational. Look here, don’t look there. People will see what they expect to see. The human brain is conditioned to fill in the blanks to connect events in a normal fashion drawing upon what it has seen before. The biggest rule is that if something mystifies you, then you just don’t understand the trick. Teller has a routine where he drops quarters into a metal bucket. You hear the coins, therefore you see the coins. At one point he removes the glasses from a member of the audience and dumps two quarters into the bucket. I’ve been to Vegas, I’ve seen the quarters. This is impossible! There are no quarters. You hear the sound, and your eyes, and brain fill in the blanks. Mormonism was founded during something called the magical world view. Everybody held to an understanding that there was this unseen world that defied the natural laws of the universe. Angels were everywhere, witches brewed potions that would cure cancer, seduce comely young girls, or bring wealth. Snake oil salesmen were on every back road, hundreds of offshoots of religion were started and this mindset continued right up until Harry Houdini pulled the plug in the ‘20’s.
People want to believe. People grasp onto anything that makes life a little bit easier. Nobody wants to die, and if they have to they want a friend in court to make it smoother. When a belief set originally designed to achieve these ends suddenly makes life harder it becomes wrong. Good folks go to heaven, ok. Don’t hurt folks and help neighbors, fine. Eat fish on Friday or die, wrong! We’ve all done it. I was a Hail Mary Catholic. Actually the faith didn’t do me any harm, and all my kids are devout. Maybe I can play that card at the Pearly Gates. Because people so want something the door is open to charlatans and flim flam men. The more desperate the person, the more they forgive inconsistencies. Most Christian arguments are over words, not events. From Methodist to Catholic, all accept that Jesus walked on water. Only one hints that He may have had three wives and a flock of kids, and if you draw this admission out it will make a Mormon very upset. Like many of the offbeat ideas this one falls away when you use a little knowledge of history, and logic. Jesus was a Rabbi. Rabbis are expected to be married. If He had been married the Gospels would have just said it. No slander! If Jesus weren’t married, and had an affair with Mary Madeline He would have never been crucified, He’d have been stoned. . . for adultery! With the Temple priests looking for anything to silence this upstart preacher don’t you think they would have seized on that? Perfect solution, and would have discredited Him to the entire population.

You’ll never get this up front from one of them. When challenged with the above logic, they will fall back on a convoluted theology that would perplex a Hippy! This happens in most cases. Sometimes it really is just the particular one you’re talking to, but most times it is because you’ve stumbled upon something they didn’t want to leak out of the Temple. When you hear the current “Prophet” speak it really is generalizations that expound the basic truths of Christianity, but as you dig deeper you will find that there is an entire sub culture just below the surface, available to only the most worthy, and those secrets are only for the select.

As you may have heard, Mormonism was founded by Joseph Smith, farm boy extraordinaire. Soothsayer, prophet, and author of the Book of Mormon. Of course he claims he didn’t write the book of Mormon, he only transcribed it, or rather someone named Oliver Cowdery did, Joseph having his head buried in his hat glaring at a “seer stone” for inspiration at the time. This remarkable work was sent to publishers who openly rejected it. Slowly, but surely the origin of the text began to emerge. According to the spin, the words came from a series of golden plates, inscribed with some sort of ancient language. In the box were two stones, that when used could translate the words into, you guessed it, the King’s English 1611! Supposedly a bunch of disgruntled Jews came to the new world, split into two factions, i.e. Rabbis and Wild Indians, there eventually was this war, and one Moroni wrote the whole story down on gold, buried it, where it remained until young Joseph was led to the site by the same Moroni, who was by then, an Angel!
Save your fork, folks, this gets better. First let’s look at reality. And Mormons, I do apologize, but when I see stupid, or a spin, I just call it like it is. Let’s continue. Farm kid, no money, one pair of shoes, digs for buried treasure finds a pot of gold. This is where psychology works in. He didn’t sell it? He found about thirty to sixty pounds of gold and didn’t rush to town with it because he was so overcome with the Holy Ghost? If you believe that have I got a bridge for you and it’s on sale! If he’d found one gold Double Eagle he’d have ran, not walked, to the nearest bank and cashed it in. Now people, that’s a fact, ok? I don’t care how you slice this cake it is still tootie fruity. I was a poor kid. If an angel let me to a treasure like that, I would have knocked him in the head and felt real bad all the way to the bank! Long story short, it never happened. First off, where did so much gold come from? Across from the Mormon Temple in Utah is a shop, and in that shop is a replica of the “golden tablets” in lead, a metal of comparable weight to gold, and all the Mormon Jocks come over and pick that up! Fact! Prospectors in the California gold rush, after working years, would end up for barely enough gold to fill a tobacco sack. The big money was later in commercial mining, and even then the amount was not all that great. Joseph Smith did not find thirty to sixty pounds of gold. This was a spin to explain the dubious source of the Book of Mormon.

The language on these plates was “Reformed Egyptian.” Two problems. These people were orthodox Jews. Orthodox Jews don’t write anything in Egyptian. Did someone say, “Passover?” Jews believe Hebrew is the language given them by God, and Egyptian is the language of slaves. But Joseph was so good at this translation stuff that he later purchased a scroll from a traveling snake oil salesman, proclaimed it to be the “Book of Abraham,” and after long study, translated it, whereupon it still appears in Mormon literature although it has now has been deciphered by scholars as being the burial book or book of the dead of some Egyptian fat cat that has nothing what so ever to do with Abraham, either patriarch or president! Combine that with plain old investigation. Now, these folks landed somewhere in Mexico, but when you try to nail them down on the exact location they get all sketchy and move the landing around considerably, so suffice to say it was somewhere south of San Antonio, Texas. From there they prophesied their way across the south, up the midcontinent, all the way to New York, and didn’t leave even a grocery list written in the same language. When I challenged a Mormon on this he told me the language on the plates was given to Moroni only for said plates and was forbidden to normal man. Yeah, right! And Marie Osmond is a virgin, too! Well, being from a Catholic background I’m cool with perpetual virgins, but I digress. Also, if they were so tangled up with the Indians then how come Geronimo didn’t acquire the ability to write in said code? See how the dots don’t connect, and I haven’t even got theological yet.

So, anyway, due to disappointing book sales, Joseph goes to plan B, which is start a religion. Good gig if you can pull it off, worked for Mohammed. He begins to baptize folks in the Father, Son and Holy Plates, and works his way all the way to some county jail in Illinois where the populace moved the issue, and Holy Joe to a higher court. He was later reincarnated as Hugh Heffner whereupon he found another pot of gold that he translated and named “Playboy” and the rest is history.
Enter the Mormon version of Biggie Small, Brigham Young. Brother Brigham led the children of Mormon into the desert to a salty lake and proclaimed that it was the place. That was not the place, California was the place, but I’m not a prophet, so what do I know? I’m told that they developed a huge salt industry there, and they may have. They dotted settlements and towns all up and down the shoreline of the Great Salt Lake, and did pretty well. The Prophet also married everything hot and holler from a teen age girl to a horse collar, but God told them not to marry so many women at one time and as a result they got statehood. Eventually they evolved into a recognizable religion, but friends and neighbors, they cook the books!

Not one foundational belief follows anything Biblical, and they can dig until blood runs from their upraised palms but they will never find one “seer stone” proving one syllable in the Book of Mormon. I’m not going to bore you with particulars but I’ll give you the foundational flaw in Mormonism. Get your pads out, there will be a test later. The story of heaven, according to them is there was a council in heaven. The Devil, and Jesus (being brothers) both submitted a plan for mankind. Satan said that he would subject with complete, unquestioned discipline and rule, and that the spirits would come to earth, suffer through, and return to “Heavenly Father” none the worse wear. Jesus said free agency was most important and that man should be free to choose his path, later to be judged and admitted or not, to the reward. Well, God voted for Jesus. Now, Mormonism is absolute control of believers. From beer, to haircuts, to women, even coffee. Whose plan are they following? Earth shaking theology from beautiful downtown Austin.

Hitler said that if you repeat a lie often enough that eventually it becomes true. It is true that some things are taken by faith, but even Mohammed wasn’t stupid enough to claim he found gold, and this was very wise of him considering what he had to deal with. There are so many invariable holes in Mormonism it defies logic, but if you ever debate a Mormon you’ll understand. They lay layer upon layer, then resort to lies, then just get mad, and the shouting match begins. If you employ the Bible they fall back on, “As far as it is accurately translated,” and never forget, Joseph was one hell of a translator!

What harm do they do? You have to separate Mormon theology with Mormon culture. What people believe vs what they do are two different things. There’s not much wrong with faith, family, and mom’s apple pie. The problem is the psychology. Since their teaching goes so against human nature eventually a lot of Mormons become disillusioned. There are no real answers in their faith, only Mormon answers, and those answers “evolve.” Black people are suddenly acceptable. Of course they say that blacks always were, they just had to hold back a bit. Uh, the other churches make their bones converting all people to their faith. They also shun polygamy. They DID that. Brother Brigham and his seventy-two virgins. Oh, my bad, wrong religion. But he really did that! The Muslims still do, and don’t lie about it. Also, consider the theological answers. The Bible took over a thousand years to write, with many authors. I’m a writer, people, and I’m telling you the Book of Mormon was contrived by Joseph Smith, and that’s cool, just don’t base your life on a Superman comic book.

Eventually Mormonism will fade away. Oh, they’ll cook the numbers. With their baptism of the dead they pick up lots of members. Tried to pick up six million Jews just after WW II. And they put these numbers on the books! Their missionaries bang doors all over the world with a set formula designed to enter more names on the roster, but Mormonism is suffering the same thing all patent leather churches are. Declining membership. Free thinking, non-denominational congregations are surviving, while the “old school” flavors are being weeded out. Most converts do not understand the foundation of Mormonism because they didn’t understand the faith they just left. They hear the sound bites, talk to the missionaries and at the proper time, just watch the quarters drop into the cup.

A Simple Ol’ Boy From Austin: Quarters in a Cup

Simple Ol’ Boy From Austin

Baptize a Cat

Being a writer and achieving understanding is a little bit like trying to baptize a cat. Nobody that I know of starts out to be a writer unless they’re deluded. Oh, there’s all kinds of college courses you can take to learn the craft. Verily, verily, I say unto thee, you learned all you need to know somewhere back in grammar school. I run into these people all the time, one in particular who will count commas in my articles, and she and her mother roll in each “victory” like a dog in a dead armadillo. All them degrees hanging on the wall . . . can’t write a grocery list!

You have to be able to achieve understanding, no deeper than that. The choice of words is a contract between you and your reader. Words shift change through the years, and understanding is organic. Take the age old “can” and “may” argument. You know the one, “Teacher can I?” You get that lecture about the implications of the two words, but anyone with a frontal lobe will understand the kid wants to go to the bathroom. Agreement of subject and verb can be cute, but anyone with common sense can figure that out. And don’t forget local dialect. British and English is NOT the same language, and Texan isn’t even in the same ball park, yet somehow we all seem to understand each other, mostly.

The art of writing is condensing complicated thought down to a form that MOST people can pick up on. When I use the phrase, “If you believe that, have I got a bridge for YOU,” is a clever way of saying, “That’s . . . stupid!” Apply this to political commentary, and it really takes on feathers. Just ask Hillary about emails. Politicians make their bones twisting words, and when they fall short they hire professional liars called “Press Secretaries.” You KNOW this guy is liar, but it’s become a game seeing how much spin he’ll throw in to make the story cook. That’s where the writer comes in. Forget about journalists, they’re out there a spinning with the press secretary.

I have an evil plan in my writing. I want to keep on keeping on, putting out MY ideas, MY way, hoping that if enough people read me maybe, just maybe, they WON’T give us another Barak Obama. I know, I know, when pigs fly. Oh, wait, can I still say pigs? I guess since the pig is flying that makes it conform to Muslim thought where horses fly. Trying to keep up with the ever evolving political correctness meter is like having lunch with an ex-wife. You’re never gonna be right about anything, so just give it up and eat your burger.

While grammar, punctuation and syntax are not overly important in the world of SMH, LOL, and OMG, delivery is still job one, and you REALLY can’t learn THAT in college. Picking the right moment for the insertion of a hook is something you learn by DOING! The public can be a hot chick that everybody gets to date but you. You have to develop that “feel” to where you know the connection. It’s really quite simple, actually. You re-read your stuff a dozen times, and after that, if it “cooks” you’re good to go. Do the math; if you’re fairly normal at least half the people out there are on somewhat the same sheet of music, and if you’re crazy, well that’s the other half.

And speak your MIND! It’s fine to pick up new ideas and agree, but never lie about what you really think. Now, I’m all PC about Gay Marriage, but really, I think they’re all as crazy as an outhouse rat! Hey, I’m from Texas, you just gotta deal with it. I’m mixed on the border. We will always have people trying to sneak into a better life, but shouldn’t we at least have the CIA declare the cargo on all those 747’s bringing in all that COKE across the border? You see, there’s no doubt where I stand, so when some chick out in India jumps my butt I just blow her off.

And racism? Don’t worry about it. The University of Wisconsin just published a list of things that if you say, or do any one of the above then you’re a racist. My initial response was, “Wisconsin has a university?” Is THAT racist? Writers fall into that trap all the time and resort to phrases like “The ‘N’ Word,” to dilute the real thing, but when you use that it just makes people think the real word. I don’t think we have thought control YET. I’m still allowed to THINK the “N” word.

If you don’t get all tangled up in high English, political correctness, or “N” words you’ll probably pen something that people will read and understand. And that’s the key, understanding. If you rattle off a series of five syllable words and no one understands you, then you have basically said nothing, and there you go. . . baptizing that cat.

Stand By For News!

I spent an entire day yesterday watching the furor over the Confederate flag. I could have put my time to better use, I can assure you, but every story, every note, every status on Facebook had a flag on it. The GAYS even have a flag! I didn’t know that. I personally think it should be pink, but what do I know, right?

Then came a story that ISIS has invented a new way to kill people, three new ways, actually, and if you know me, I made a tuna sandwich, a pitcher or martinis, and went looking for that! Then, of course the story about Obama selling Kansas to the Chinese, Hilliary has dated Yoko Ono, and Bruce Gender had her first period! Then, a great light appeared unto me. It was exceedingly bright, and I was sore afraid. And a voice came from the light, like a thousand trumpets, and the voice said, “Come here!” So I put down my martini, and went unto the voice, and the voice got holy, and powerful, and resounded-duh . . . And the voice said, “Gimme some of dat samitch!”

So I gave the voice the sandwich, and I was filled with wisdom at that point. And the wisdom was this: The Mainstream Media long ago lost ALL credibility. Gone are the days when Patton strode onto the beach, or Kennedy stared down the Russians, or Dr. King walked fearlessly down the streets of Selma. Now some guy says he’s a woman, cuts his Johnson off, and the world stops turning. The big bucks news will pump any story, no matter how stupid until you’d think that was the only thing happening in the entire world at that given moment of time. LEAD story,too! JESUS CHRIST could return, and He’d be upstaged by some transvestite tripping, and spilling a Coke on a parking lot! Oh yeah, did ya’ll know the Pope is a communist? There was even a story about Miley Cyrus poking fun at the Bible. Like that’s a surprise? Have you checked out her little dance step. I liked when she was Hanna Montana, but what do you do when you grow up, and lose your contract because you’re basically ugly, and a slut? That’s an old word my younger readers need to get used to. Slut: Prostitute who’s too stupid to charge for it.

And, of course, everybody’s looking forward to the race war that’s coming. A few kids with their pants sagging sit down in the street and “IT’S A RACE WAR, IT’S A RACE WAR!” We already HAD a race war back in the 1860’s. Oh God, here come the flags again! I found ONE story worth reading, and that was the one about the one-legged vet who had to put his dog down. The dog was trained to sniff out seventy different bombs, and had saved many lives. The whole town turned out to accompany him to the doctor, and go to rest. Uh, didn’t see any Confederate flags in the crowd.

Then I caught Chris Green, Alternative TV, and of course he was ranting and raving about that flag flap. Then he turned on Col. Allen West. He showed a clip of some black, bearded fanatic, and kept calling him Col. West. I was reminded of an old George Carlin line; Seems fairly intelligent . . . Ah! He’s full of s . . . .!” You have to watch conspiracy theorists just about as close as you watch Main Stream Media. Right before Green regurgitated his dialog he did a commercial trying to sell body armor to all the nice folks out there waiting for Jade Helm to kick in, oh don’t get me started! We are going through that flap down here in Texas right now. I’m sure there is SOMETHING there, because even Governor Abbott is putting armor plating on his wheel chair. (You’d think that after getting the Governor’s office he’d have picked up a Hoveround somewhere along the way, wouldn’t you?) it’s a nice fantasy, I guess. I have a fantasy. Me, locked away in a bomb shelter, hiding from Jade Helm, with five Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders and a case of Jim Beam. Do THAT math!

So, I found myself having coffee this morning, waiting to see what’s next. Will ISIS invade New York? Will the Jews take over the world? Will Bruce Gender become pregnant? Will global warming make California a bigger desert than it’s always been? Will we have to read yet another story from Roof’s stepmother (another slut) telling us what a “nice boy” he really was? Will Alex Jones sell yet another water purification system? Stand by for NEWS!

Simple Ol’ Boy From Austin

The AMERICANS Are Coming!

We need to throw down on what’s American and what’s NOT! Back when I was in high school I was taught the classical understanding of the hierarchy of government as bequeathed to us by the “Great Emancipator,” that being the Fed rules, and the states drool. Now, bear in mind at the time I was listening to the Beatles so this made a lot of sense to me. Big Brother, little brother and kid sister seemed to work out just fine.

Tell me something, who elects congressmen? Is there some kind of national election where all the American people vote for a passel of candidates, or is it a local election, a VERY local election, that sends representatives to Washington to speak for the interests of the people who sent them up there? The problem is that when they get there most congressmen become “Americans” and stop being Texans, Californians or New Yorkers. They “rise above” and become omnipotent, eyes ever scanning the future, voting any way they see fit. Then, come election time, they fly back home, kiss a few babies, get re-elected, and whisk right back to Washington to continue the perpetuation of the God awful American government that we, and the rest of the world have grown to love so much.

Here’s the way the government is supposed to work. Let’s say someone comes up with an idea to build a super highway from New York to LA, with eight lanes all the way, and no stops all the way to Santa Monica. The Feds figure that since this highway is going to touch several states that they should foot most of the bill, and have control over the finished roadway. Works for me! Or I’ll give you another case. Someone knocks down a couple buildings in New York. All the states get together, go over yonder and whip them fellers. Then, they come HOME. Trouble is the American government has a one size fits all mentality. If the road and the war worked out so good, why shucks, dictating schooling, health, and marriage would be just that much better, and since a lot of people have bought into this reverse level of administration imposed by Ling Kahn they get away with it.

Can you imagine the money that would be saved if we just let people run their own business without Senate subcommittee hearings inside the old beltway by people who couldn’t cook a brisket if their lives depended on it? Why, we wouldn’t even have to have the Capitol open all the time. That would save on electricity right there! We wouldn’t even need the IRS, well maybe for someone to sweep that eight lane highway.

You wanna know why this is never going to happen? Because there’s too much money to be made micro-managing other people’s business, that’s why. That, and it’s so noble worrying about where a spotted owl out in Idaho takes a crap. They spend YOUR money on that folks, I crappith thee NOT! I’ve never eaten a spotted owl by the way.

And the Supreme Court, oh don’t get me started. They’re not even elected, they’re appointed by what ever looney tune is having breakfast in the White House at that given time. You could theoretically end up with nine justices from California sitting on the bench. “In the matter of humans marrying parakeets our decision is, ‘Totally!” Not any crazier than ceding thousands of acres to a spotted owl.

It will take a long time to pry American hands off a dollar, but it can be done. You just have to sent people to Capitol Hill who’ll dance with the ones who brung them. If the Fed is going to run everything, or can trump any laws we pass at the state level why have state legislators at all. We could spend that money on beer, and at least then everyone would be happy.

#texas #secede #statesrights


Morgan Freeman for President

I just love being politically incorrect, no, really, I do. To be politically correct you have to do all the updates, and if you miss one, your mouth crashes! In fact, I would go as far to say that I go out of my way to be incorrect.. I WORK on it. I find everything from using the term, “The ‘N’word” to gay marriage, to voting for Obama funny as hell. And school teachers? OMLG! Take the case just this week where that kid got thrown out of school just because he said he didn’t like Obama, and the principle said that he would NOT tolerate INtolerance in his school. PANTIES CHECK! Did that happen in California? If it didn’t, it should have. It amazes me that in a state with so many beautiful women there aren’t any men.

Do you want to know why politically correct people always play the race card? Because they ain’t got nothing else! Let me check . . . used the word, “ain’t,” double negative . . . yep, I’m rolling today. This is what happens when I DON’T drink! Anyway, I digress. You can’t say anything about Obama without the race card hitting the table. Guy doesn’t have any policy, wouldn’t know the constitution if it ran up and peed on his leg, runs around with people like Kerry and Hillary, and has a wife who seriously needs to just stay in the White House. Obama’s not a race card, he’s a race DECK!

I do like some things about the president. He drinks Bud Lite and smokes cigarettes. And don’t tell me he quit smoking . . . Look at him! Boy talks good too. (How’d you like that word, “boy?”) Somebody STOP me! You want a black president so bad, I have a suggestion, Morgan Freeman! He’s played the president in a couple of films, and heck, that’s all Obama does . . . PLAY president. Funny thing was in the movie, “Olympus Has Fallen,” Morgan was more constitutional than the real deal! Ain’t that a hoot! Who was the last actor we had in the White House?

Putin’s not politically correct. He’s just a butthole through and through. BiBi is too. I think this Cameron guy in England might be, but I don’t know. You gotta watch them Limeys. Oh, who said that? I meant the “L” word. Usually, when things get this messed up the Krauts jump up and try to take over the world. Remember Adolph? The last great white boy? Y’all swatting them bees yet?

There will always be people who have nothing to say, so they try to apply rules to restrict what you have to say. If you say anything about Obama the FIRST thing that comes out of a liberal’s mouth is, “You just sayin’ dat cause he’s black!” No, first off he’s half black, and second he’s a freaking idiot! No, I take that back, he’s not an idiot, he’s the best the liberals could come up with.

So let’s look at the upcoming race. In the last two we voted based on complexion, this next one we’ll shoot for genitailia . I assume Hillary’s a woman because she’s got a kid that looks just like her. What do you get when you cross breed two crooked lawyers? CHELSEA! At least Obama’s daughters are cute! And no matter WHAT she does, Hilliary is doing the presidential shuffle. Do you want to know how screwed up this country really is? Last night Bobby Ritter and I did a one on one on the Rage Against the Regime Podcast, and we ended up talking about what a great guy Al Capone was! Now if that’s not a cluster screw I’m not a white boy from Austin! I crappith thee not! We ended up actually MISSING Al. Interesting thought; Al Capone’s solution to ISIS. Your thoughts?

You gotta laugh, folks. If you let this stuff get to you there isn’t enough blood pressure medicine in the world! In 1933, if two fools showed up to kill people at an art show because they were drawing pictures of some foreigner, Roosevelt would have every Muslim in a camp the next DAY! We did that just because people had slanted eyes. Ah, the good old days. Will America survive? Hell no! Have you lost your freaking mind? And stop worrying about Jade Helm. The cartels ain’t gonna let that get out of control. I just love being politically incorrect!

How I Really Think

I was being facetious when I said I got my feelings hurt yesterday. You’d have to get up pretty early in the morning to hurt my feelings. I’ve been married five times, been run off so many times that I thought PMS meant “pack my stuff.” What happened was I took off after Al Sharpton yesterday. Now, I’m going to go on record. I think Al Sharpton is a shallow minded, race baiting, lying pimp! He scans the headlines for anything he can inject himself into for a tidy sum, and he hasn’t done one thing to improve the human condition, white or black. Anyway, there were two people who took exception to my article, and that’s fine. Now, they didn’t READ the article, or at least didn’t read it with any comprehension. They leaped, like savage rabbits, and played that rusty old race card! THAT always irritates me. For somebody to read something that I’ve written, completely ignore the foundation, and come back with, “Oh, you just saying that ’cause he’s black!” Nigga please! (Is that racist enough for you, honey?)

So I checked out my two opponents. Frankly, today I don’t even remember their names, but the guy actually went to the University of Texas. Now, I’m an old Texas hard liner so that set me back a bit. Kid went to UT so he HAD to have learned SOMETHING! Then I went and checked out the girl. Cute! That goes a long way with me. (Hmmmmm. I might not be a racist but I AM a Chauvinist!) Anyway she made statements that my article wasn’t even an article for various reasons, and mentioned that I had horse whipped the Muslims a week ago also. She harangued my style, my content, and said that I was arrogant. Now, I’m fixing to get real blunt here, reader’s discretion advised! FYI, my own brother made fun of the title of my last book and I haven’t spoke to him for two years.

I write dozens of articles every day. I’ve written four books, three thousand songs, been in Country music for over forty years, and I’m not about to take criticism from some hula girl with a Facebook account! My writing style is actually contrived. I didn’t just stumble upon it one day in the shower. I use a theory I refer to as “circles.” The human mind reaches for completion. THAT’S why a song will get stuck in your head. Because you mind missed something and struggles to complete it. Fifty cents worth of psychiatric input there. That’s also what makes a song work. Verse, verse, chorus, lead riff, verse, chorus and out. Perfect circle! If you study most of my articles you’ll see that pattern almost every time.

There are two more elements. Humor, and simplicity. There are seven things that will construct humor in the brain. My humor is by comparison. Take a situation, paint mental images, easy to remember, with little Texas catch phrases like, “save your fork,” and “swat them bees,” to cement the prose of the article in the readers mind, compare the two and voila! You have humor. I don’t write ANYTHING by accident! Every line, every word is placed exactly where I intended it to be. I don’t use repetitive “ands” but I do throw in slang, and words like “gonna, ain’t,” and even a sloppy double negative here and there, and I do it for a reason. SIMPLICITY! When I address a complex situation I step back, look at it, and ask myself, “Now what is this guy REALLY saying?” Just like my opinion of Al Sharpton. For everything he’s ever said, or written, it all boils down to, “Give me de money!”

You can never predict my position on any matter, because I don’t know my position on any matter until I write it. I didn’t not agree with George Zimmermans shooting of Trayvon Martin, but frankly, I’d have shot Michael Brown from the car! My logic was simple. For all the MMA crap, Martin could NOT knock Zimmerman out. I, myself, been attacked by not one but THREE black thugs in my own driveway, and I didn’t kill anybody, and it’s not because I have the light of sweet Jesus in my eyes. It’s because when you stick a gun in someone’s mouth they go from thug to PHD in two seconds flat! And, oh yeah, I only did that cause they was black! For the record they embarked on a huge conspiracy to steal my cigarettes!

Now let’s jump on the religion thing. Yeah, I’m gonna go there, deal with it. I think most religion is silly. Not God, RELIGION! I was a devout Catholic, and before that I was a devout Baptist. Now I’m just a devout ME! I admire people like my friend Doc Greene who can live their faith and not hurt anyone, but when I see Muslims, the Westboro Baptist Church, and sidewalk, soapbox preachers looking forward to the end of the world like Al Sharpton, you damn well better know that I’m gonna express an opinion! If you want to pray five times a day and never eat a ham sandwich, I’m cool with that, but when you blow an old lady’s head off in the street because of the crazy ramblings of some guy who died sixteen hundred years ago we gotta talk! I SAW David Koresh, and NOT on CNN.

As far as acceptance of my writings? Well, I’m sitting here having a very dry martini, a Roosevelt Peter, smoking a Nicaraguan cigar on the porch of one of my three houses. So, to address that young lady from yesterday with a mouth full of opinions, yeah honey, I’m a bit arrogant. Matter of fact I’d like to run a few martins through you and see what pops out the other end. When you get past sixty or so you become pretty much settled in your opinions. You tend to view the world with a pretty jaundiced eye, but mainly you see things and people for what they really are.

I pulled out of Glozens yesterday because I knew that anyone small minded enough to address my articles in such a fashion would probably run to Facebook like a little child and I’d go to Facebook jail (again.) I’ve got books to sell. Martinis and cigars cost MONEY, and I don’t have the gig the REVEREND Al Sharpton has. I have to budget.

Obama, Jesus, and Crackheads

Ok, let’s do some math. We, here at RER, tend to look like conspiracy theorists at times with the way we ride Obama, but, as usual, I’m going to boil it all down to a bowl of chili just for y’all. I had to just look at the President in a proper light, the right filter, and his actions made perfect sense. First, a little background. I had four sons. Bobby, my youngest was a fine film producer. He was like Michael Moore in one respect, that cost him a fatal heart attack back in ’07, and we miss him greatly. Michael, joined the Marines, but a bad ear put him out. He signed up as a contractor and spent three years in Afghanistan rooting out Taliban. He is now a deputy sheriff back here in Texas. Then, of course, there’s Wilbur, the Chief! Oh, my bad, the MASTER Chief! Eight tours of the Gulf, and over there right NOW! Finally, we have Timmy. Every family has one, and Timmy is ours. Timmy is a crackhead, and THAT’S why I completely understand Barak Obama!

If you analyze what Obama is doing it all makes perfect sense, especially in the light of his explanations. You must understand his constituency. When Timmy gets out of jail, oh, he’s currently “in” right now, we measure Timmy’s life as being either “in” or “out”, he comes to the house, eats, and gets right on the phone. He’s usually gone within two hours, claiming he is going to see one of his many “ladies.” On the way out the door he always steals something. You would be amazed. This last time it was a Pad, whereupon he will sell, or trade it for a “rock” and we’ll see him in three or four days. When we ask what happened to the Pad we will get a tirade of angry words about his horrible childhood, how Michael got the biggest pork chop, or it was his to steal after all he’s done for us. Now, if you can connect those dots then understanding Obama is a snap! Obama supporters are a bunch of crackheads!

Now please note, I did NOT say Obama was a crack head. He’s a crack PUSHER! That’s why he can try to suspend the Second Amendment, yet, at the same time, throw the doors open for the very people who knocked down the World Trade Center! That’s how he can institute a health care plan that destroys health care. That’s how he can fund something like ISIS, and then turn around and tell the country that Radical Islam doesn’t exist. His entire administration has been a contradiction of terms. PERFECT for the crackheads who voted him in! AND he’s from Chicago, and that can’t be good.

Also, the birth certificate thing. Have you ever seen a crackhead being arrested? I don’t care what charge they are arrested for, failure to produce ID, or coming up with a false ID always heads the list. And his wife? All I’m going to say is whenever you find a crack pusher, and he has a girl . . .well, there you are! Obama plays golf . . . TIMMY plays golf! The comparisons go on and on. Our biggest problem is those five hundred or so OTHER crackheads running the government over in the congress and senate.

The one difference between Obama and Timmy is Jesus. Timmy falls back on that at every opportunity, but let me explain. You see, while “in” the crackhead will always “find” Jesus. Whenever Obama finds himself painted into a corner he will invoke some religious terminology in order to placate the masses. Timmy does it like this. Long about the third or fourth visit he will say, “I’ve found Jesus!” The first dozen times or so we would buy into that. I mean, you know, you have to. If you believe in Jesus you have to have faith that He CAN turn lives around, but a good sip of reality is required. The last time he told me that I said, “Really? Gee! I thought that boy would have made parole by now!”