Christopher Hitchens

Not quite sure why I've been so affected by the illness and death of Christopher Hitchens. He could be fussy at times, but he was elegantly fussy. So elegant, he wasn't offensive.

I rarely agreed with him, but I always read his columns. Vanity Fair is my life. It is a magazine that smells good, and it is full of pretty people. Sigh. It is going to be much harder to tote the weary load without without VF columnists, Dominick Dunne (who died in 2009), and Christopher Hitchens.

Although he wrote on a variety of subjects, Hitchens was a notorious, often angry atheist. He delighted in poking and pointing at the foibles of Believers. The man thought even Mother Theresa was a phony. Still, he called her a phony in a nice way, somehow. He was amused to learn that Christians were praying for a deathbed conversion. He was adamant that he neither needed nor wanted the prayers of anyone.

Yes, I am one of those who took a little revenge for his occasional snarkiness by praying for him. Not so much that he'd be healed, as that is too specific a prayer, and life or death is not my business.

Just a simple "may it be okay, and not so bad for him."

And now I suspect Christopher Hitchens knows what God looks like.

©Randall P. Hodge, Esq., and Morningwood Enterprises, Ltd.

It had to Start Somewhere.

anwar al-awlaki, deader than Sonny Corleone

Like most people, I am delighted we took out awlaki, but it was wrong. My "delight" is based on what I have read or heard about him through the media. Media reports are largely based on information fed to journalists by the government. So once again, we must trust THE MAN. al-awlaki has posted and written some fairly nasty things about the United States and our (most of us anyway) way of life. There are lots of nuts posting bizarre videos or written material (no offense to myself), but it would be unkind to assassinate any of them without their permission.

We are only a few steps away from an overzealous political appointee ordering a hit on one of his master’s political enemies. Perhaps the official “perceives” it to be the unspoken will of his dear leader, or that it is for the greater good of the state. Obama has made this easier to contemplate, merely because he ordered the death of someone HE deemed to be the enemy of the state. Take out the bad guys. Our cause is just. The need is great. Because I say so.

I hope I’m never considered a “bad guy”.

Under the Nazis, euthanasia, and later extermination, began when a lower level administrator wrote Hitler about the problem of mentally ill patients at his facility. In his response, Hitler implied it might be better if some had never been born, and they'd be better off if they were dead. From that, the administrator presumed permission from on high to relieve society of the burden of these unfortunates, and so it began. Someone decided certain life wasn't so "precious". It had to start somewhere.

Every day in the United States, there are approximately 3,700 abortions. 1.37 million per year. More than 50 million since Roe v. Wade was decided in 1973. Sorry to say we’re up there with Stalin now. We passed Hitler years ago. Before Roe, those statistics would have been unthinkable. Unfathomable. To reach those epic numbers, we had to start somewhere.

It is the same with the national debt. In 1980, Ronald Reagan spoke of the $1 trillion national debt that our children would have to pay. Well, someone’s children now owe close to $15 trillion. I’m old, fat, and give out, so this is someone else’s mess. To get to this point, we had to start somewhere.

If in the future the government routinely removes “enemies of the state,” bad guys, or anyone else without Due Process of Law, we will look back on the assassinations of osama bin laden and anwar al-awlaki and remember – that’s where it started.

After Ruby Ridge and Waco, I came to believe at least some individuals, elements or agencies of the government are capable of almost anything. At Ruby Ridge, Idaho, government agents shot and killed the young son of Randy Weaver. Shot him in the back. What's more, they killed his little dog. That ain't right. These same agents also shot and killed Weaver's wife. Coincidentally, she was holding their newborn baby. It is unclear whether the mother or the infant was the targeted enemy of the state. Weaver hadn't killed, robbed, raped or hurt anybody. Nope, the government got involved in that deal because the ATF alleged he had illegal weapons.

It took the Oklahoma City bombing to wake us up to the dangers of a rogue agency like the ATF. McVeigh perpetrated that crime to punish the government for the actions of the ATF at Ruby Ridge and Waco. Nothing could ever justify McVeigh's actions, but government excess often brings out the inner nut in some people.

Based on some of the antics of our own polyester Gestapo, the TSA, it won’t surprise me if that experiment doesn’t end well. I rarely fly any more, but I dread to think some of those people are armed. Many leave all common sense at the door. Even 20 years ago, could we have imagined we'd stand by and let some thug with the TSA manhandle a toddler or a great grandmother? Of course not, but we put up with it now because of political correctness. If we doth protest too much, we will end up in jail. Meanwhile, mooselums from enemy countries pass right on through like fanny pack toting tourists in a quaint Bolivian village. #FFS.

As "Alan," everyone's favorite character from "The Hangover" said, "thanks a lot, bin laden."

I’m glad we took out both bin laden and al-awlaki. They were unattractive, and neither dressed well. Plus, they were mean, and they didn’t play well with others.

But there is something unsettling about the assassination of an American citizen without Due Process of Law, and that just happened.

©2011 Randall P. Hodge, Esq., and Morningwood Enterprises-DRK-Prestige Worldwide

The Last Rose of Summer

The Last Rose of Summer is from a poem of the same name by Thomas Moore (1779–1852). My favorite version of it is by my imaginary babymama, Deanna Durbin. She was a Polly Purebred star of the 30s and 40s. She is now almost 90, and she retired from the movies decades ago.

The second version I've attached is longer, and in some ways a little nicer, but neither of the Celtic chicks has a voice like Deanna Durbin. Not even close. They have the benefit of two voices. It is difficult for most of us to watch the second video, as its hidden message is blatantly obvious. The viewer can't help but imagine a scenario where both Celtic chicks are mud wrestling in their panties. Some kind of evil masking or code. Who can say.

I stole that mud wrestling line from Don Imus, who told his wife (ugh) that he'd hoped to persuade her and Lis Wiehl (of Fox News) to mud wrestle in their panties.

The point of this follow-up 9/11 post is this nice song, and the words to the poem. It makes me think of that pretty day ten years ago. It was also pretty in Oklahoma City. Maybe it was clear and bright everywhere -- before they came.

September 11, 2001 was the last good day. The finale of the American Century, and end of MY favorite decade, the 90s. Now the whole world is on fire. One mess after another. Earthquakes, tornadoes, typhoons, volcanoes, and mooslums blowing up things, or shooting people without their permission. So much drama and pain caused by fussy, envious and angry people who flat out can't stand tall things.

So yeah, the song fits. It's beautiful and sad, especially if there's mud wrestling.

Tis the last rose of summer
Left blooming alone;
All her lovely companions
Are faded and gone:
No flower of her kindred,
No rose-bud is nigh,
To reflect back her blushes,
Or give sigh for sigh.

I'll not leave thee, thou lone one!
To pine on the stem;
Since the lovely are sleeping,
Go, sleep thou with them.
Thus kindly I scatter
Thy leaves o'er the bed,
Where thy mates of the garden
Lie scentless and dead.

So soon may I follow,
When friendships decay,
And from Love's shining circle
The gems drop away.
When true hearts lie wither'd,
And fond ones are flown,
Oh! who would inhabit
This bleak world alone?

Deanna Durbin

Celtic Woman

©2011 Randall P. Hodge, Esq., and Morningwood-DRK Enterprises - Prestige Worldwide

On France, Friends, Orcs & Trolls

So much comes to mind on the Tenth Anniversary of the beginning of the Clash of Civilizations. I've been thinking about gestures of support and sympathy Americans received from around the Christian world. They meant a lot then, and they mean a lot now.

France. We give the French a hard time, usually because they do what they want to do, instead of what we tell them to do. The French have learned not to butt in to stuff. I wish we would learn the same lesson.

Americans make jokes about the French, and they are fun to make fun of...in a Canadian sort of way. They laugh at us too, and we provide plenty of reasons.

Three things we ought to remember before we hate on France. One, the French provided decisive assistance to us in the Revolutionary War. England was the greatest power in the world, and we needed all the help we could get.

Two, the French have a superior intelligence service; they share with us, and we share with them. Jason Bourne is based in France, and he is awesome, albeit Matt Damon was fat in "Contagion," but I digress. Also, France is crawling with mooslums. So is England. So are Northern Virginia and Dearborn, Michigan.

Third, the day after 9/11, an editorial writer for the French paper Le Monde, published a nice piece about America, "Today we are all Americans." "Nous sommes tous Américains." That is French for something, and the link will take you to the article.

I've been to France a couple of times, to Normandy, Paris, and Marseilles. I found the French to be unusually friendly. I thought they'd be mean America-haters, but not at all.

Granted, the French do laze about, eat weird food, have sex, sit around in bistros, drink (awesome) coffee and/or absinthe, smoke, and discuss Marxism. Well, that's actually Johnny Depp, but he is kind of the French prototype.

Our two countries are friends; we are allies. We don't have to learn their language, as we're far too busy learning to speak Mexican since they refuse to learn English.

England. America has no better friend on earth than Great Britain, unless it is Israel. After 9/11, as a gesture of solidarity, the Queen commanded the band to play the "Star Spangled Banner" during the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace. The Brits invoked the NATO treaty. They have had our back in Afghanistan, Iraq, and Obama's new war to establish islamic caliphates in Libya and Egypt. Tony Blair paid a very high price for his unusual loyalty and support.

In Germany, long my favorite country in the world (other than Mordor), 200,000 Berliners marched to show their support and sympathy. Granted it wasn't the cool kind of 1930s marching that we all miss, but it was still nice.

Australia is always with us. They know, we know, and the Japanese know that America saved Australia from invasion during World War II. That one was close. The Japanese Empire gobbled up everything else. After 9/11, the Australians invoked the ANZUS Defense Treaty. They sent troops to all of Bush's wars. That felt good too.

Sidebar: One hasn't suffered in occupation until he has been occupied by the Japanese. They were cut-your-head-off mean. When hippies and "progressives" whine about Hiroshima, I gently remind them of the Rape of Nanking, during which the Japanese slaughtered over 500,000 people in a matter of weeks. Even the Germans were appalled.

Ireland. I'm not a huge fan of Ireland, though, because they whine too much. Wine, too. Something about potatoes. It's always something to do with the British. Some of them used to blow up people, like my boy Lord Louis Mountbatten, but I guess they stopped. Then I recalled Ireland was the only other country to declare a National Day of Mourning. That was touching, albeit it was just an excuse to take off work and get drunk. Even the Germans were appalled.

Poland is one of my other favorite countries. They gave us the Pope of Popes. They love America, and they want to be like us. Humble little Poland sent troops to help out in both Afghanistan and Iraq. We haven't always reciprocated. Bush fell all over himself to suck up to Russia, even if it is at the expense of Poland. Not good, but the State Department is infested with commies -- like that awful Colin Powell (ugh).

These are only a few of the gestures of support shown to our country after 9/11. Our friends did what friends do in time of greatest need. We found comfort, good feeling and encouragement. This helped assuage the grief and rage we all felt when we discovered that these singularly unattractive palestinians were celebrating our horror. They were dancing with delight in the streets of their grubby little hovels. They celebrated on the day our heart was broken. That was mean. I don't believe I'll ever forget that. Even the Germans were appalled.

Way to amp up American support for a palestinian state.

On this day of days, I remember my friend Barbara Olson, a nice lady I knew from my Washington days. She was on the plane that crashed into the Pentagon. I remember David Angell, one of the creative folks who brought us Cheers, Wings and Frasier. He and his lovely wife Lynn were murdered when their plane was flown into the World Trade Center. I will remember Thomas Swift, a young man who died when the towers fell.

Tom Brokaw mentioned his poor mother, how she wandered around, perhaps almost in shock, asking people if they'd seen her son. Brokaw said that to him, Mrs. Swift represented all the Mothers who lost, and who would lose sons and daughters...

In a war that is a Clash of Civilizations, whether we want to admit it or not. As Sam Gamgee poignantly told Frodo, "there is some good in this world, and it's worth fighting for."

We are the good guys, and they started this. Our God can beat up their allah.

©2011 Randall P. Hodge, Esq., and Morningwood-DRK Enterprises – Prestige Worldwide

The MSNBC (ugh) GOP Debate

These debates will become tiresome before the end, but at least we don't have to suffer John McCain.

I'm pulling for anyone who can beat Obama like a red headed step child in a Kenyan K-Mart, which is where he was found, by the way.

Romney did well, but I fear he is too nice and Mormony to tear Obama's face off, which is what it is going to take. Obama will start a nuclear war with Jupiter to keep his job. Michelle will make him, because she loves the vacations.

I was pulling for Perry because it was his debut. I also think he would tear Obama's face off, and then kick him in the wiener. I would do the pay-per-view thing to see that. He held his own. No major mistake, and he had a few good lines. He referred to Social Security as a "Ponzi Scheme." It is much worse than that, and people know it. But we are stuck with it. It will fail, because no one will fix it. Too many demagogues. Even more chickens.

No one else stood out, as they had little opportunity. As is always the case, there were 300 candidates, long-winded moderators, and too little time. The only people who are watching debates at this stage are those of us who consider them political porn. They could go on for four hours, and I'd watch.

I can't stand Newt Gingrich, but he was excellent. He can't win the nomination and he wouldn't win the general election if he did, but he was excellent. His evil wife Callista made him run.

Ron Paul is 76 years old. Keebler Elf. Nut. Dude, No.

Rick Santorum was about beat ta deff in his last Senate campaign. He is also too nice, and ain't nobody lisnin'. Nice guy, but why is he running. Callista might have made him.

I like Herman Cain. A lot. He is actually all black, and not a poser like Barack. He is articulate. Seems humble, yet confident. I don't see him taking off. The media would never let that happen. THE MAN will bring him down. In a debate with Obama, somebody would call somebody the N-werd, which would be okay (and very funny) since Black people are allowed to say it to each other. We just need something like that to happen on national television.

Sorry, Michelle Bachmann. Nope. I liked her after the first debate, but gaffes kill. She gets good pills though.

It pays to eat an entire row of Oreos as a "single serving". They aren't really clear about what constitutes a serving, so a row will do.

Which brings me to the other black Republican candidate, Jon Huntsman. He is an Oreo Cookie-looking ice cream boy. He is pretty, and that is important to shallow people like me. But, he is the most boring of all of them. Plus, he isn't all that much different from Obama. He dissed my boy Rick Perry over Creationism. He is snarky to my other boy, Mitt Romney. He is rather arrogant, atop his 3% perch in the polls.

Here's what else I think about Jon Huntsman. The media have a dangerous man crush on him, and it may create a monster. Same thing happened with that awful John Anderson in 1980, the awfuller Gary Hart in 1984, and the awfullest, Ross Perot, in 1992. When the media over-adore a mediocre candidate, it goes to his head. He believes all of the hype. It rarely is true. We have Obama because the media fell in love with him. He has ruined the world, but he still thinks he is a living god. No one else does though.

Huntsman will go nowhere in the GOP primaries and caucuses. He won't be able to understand why, because the media have convinced him he is the World's Greatest Awesome Tremendous Mormon. If he can't get the nomination, why not try to unite the world under a banner of great hair. I have a bad feeling that Jon Huntsman may go for a 3rd party candidacy.

Huntsman wouldn't win if he ran, but Obama would. Fortunately, the Mayans predicted a violent end to all things in December, 2012, so we'll be spared another four years of the tacky and vulgar Obamas.

Whew.

©2011 Randall P. Hodge, Esq., and Morningwood-DRK Enterprises – Prestige Worldwide

In Which I Helped Topple the Soviet Union

Note: Click on the photos for an enhanced blog experience.

In 1984, I worked in the Chairman's Office at Reagan-Bush '84, which was located near the Capitol Building and another famous landmark, the Headquarters of the International Brotherhood of Teamsters.

The campaign manager, Ed Rollins, was connected to many of the more reasonable leaders in the labor movement. America still manufactured things in those days, so unions had more influence than they do today. The campaign had a significant and ultimately successful outreach program to union members. President Reagan was endorsed by a several national unions, and he was proud of the votes he received.

The Teamsters Union was rumored to have mob ties. This went all the way back to 1974, when we learned Hyman Roth put together this big deal -- it would be bigger than U.S. Steel. It involved Cuba, the Corleone Family, the Lakeville Road Boys, the Teamsters, Senator Pat Geary (RIP, G.D. Spradlin), and Boo Radley. The deal fell apart, though, and Rocco Lampone shot Mr. Roth to death in an airport terminal in Miami. Mr. Roth had flown home to vote in the Presidential election because they wouldn't give him an absentee ballot.

But I digress.

One day at the campaign office, all the errand guys were out running errands. Vital and indefensible as I was to President Reagan's re-election, and to ending the Cold War, Ed and Lyn Nofziger made ME deliver a package to someone at Teamster Headquarters. I was fitted with a bullet proof vest, a gangster fedora and a book of familiar Italian phrases.

Everyone kidded me that Ed and Lyn had set it all up so I'd be rubbed out.

In the end, I didn't see nuthin'. I didn't even get to take the solid gold elevator to the solid gold upper floors, where all the mafia guys and Howard Hughes were hanging out in wife beater shirts, making spaghetti, and not forgetting the cannoli. I was only allowed to drop it off at the front desk. All I know is the package contained $100 million in cash.

But I digress.

Twenty seven years ago, the Teamsters Union was strong, proud, and effective. If the union had Mafia ties, who cared. The Brotherhood of Teamsters was always more interesting than the other unions anyway, and they got more done for the members. How? The Mob. By the way, the F.B.I. and Rudolph Guiliani ruined the Mafia. How? They used listening devices, and that's cheating.

I'm a lifelong fan and member of both the Mafia and the Teamsters Union. It was sad on Labor Day to see James Hoffa resort to a screeching, Hitler-like rant about the Tea Party Movement. Goodwin's Law . I don't like to hear bad words because it makes me cry. Hoffa said bad words about people who should be entitled to express opinions, support candidates, and vote as they please. I suspect there are thousands of Teamsters who support the Tea Party Movement, which basically urges the federal government to stop doing stupid things. Yet Hoffa urged union members to take them out. Plus, he sounded drunk. No offense to myself and a bunch of people.

Somewhere, in Michigan perhaps, legendary union leader Jimmy Hoffa is turning in his grave, which is rumored to be a concrete block. Why? Because his son, James Hoffa, dyed his hair a dreadful ginger/orange hue, and because he was sucking up to a flukish goof like President Obama.

That pusillanimous, simpering, popinjay, Barack Obama, who can barely finish a sentence without his teleprompter. This is the same god-king who thought there were 57 states. He believed there was an Austrian language, which he learned to speak in just 5 minutes. Most embarrassingly, he mispronounced "corpsman" (hint: it's not corpseman) about 10 times in one of his canned speeches (that usually cause the stock market to fall about 200 points). No offense to the President, either. He got Bin Laden. Allegedly.

Sometimes I feel about as smart as Fredo Corleone, but I knew there were 50 states, that Austrians speak German, and that corpsman is pronounced coreman.

Plus, Obama's ears are getting bigger. He looks like Darren Stevens did when Endora cast a big ear spell on him.

So there you have it. I delivered all that cash to the Teamsters, who gave it to "Big" Paul Castellano of the Gambino Family, who gave it to a Ukrainian "button man," who took out Soviet strongman Konstantin Chernenko, who was replaced by Mikhail Gorbachev, who canceled the Soviet Union. Don't ask for details.

That is the true story of how Ed Rollins, Lyn Nofziger, and Randall P. Hodge helped end the Cold War. President Reagan, Pope John Paul II, and Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher also helped.

©2011 by Randall P. Hodge, Esq., and Morningwood-DRK Enterprises – Prestige Worldwide

The Walmart Archipelago

Note: Click on the photos for an enhanced blog experience.

Apologies to Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, author of The Gulag Archipelago.

At the intersection of Northwest Expressway and Classen Boulevard in Oklahoma City stands the largest structure ever built by man (without the aid of aliens). It is roughly the size of Colorado. It is also the destroyer of worlds, small towns, and fine people. Before it was built, one could head north on Classen, make a left at the expressway, and there was Penn Square Mall. Places to eat, shops to buy things I didn’t need, and a movie theater, of which I was a patron.

During construction, major changes to streets were made, and without any regard whatsoever to common sense. All roads and streets were merged and became ONE. It led to only ONE place. Unneeded traffic lights were installed. Nonsensical arrows and symbols were painted on the streets. It was now impossible to navigate this Rube Goldberg maze without passing the great structure, the end of all things, the new Belle Isle Super Walmart. "The focus of evil in the modern world."

It is the business plan of all Walmarts to colonize an area, annihilate and exterminate any and all competitors, and then feed off the host properties and residents. All living things are eventually destroyed, and all the energy and wealth are drained and consumed. Then, the entity abandons the huge warehouse it had leased “for a thousand years” from some hapless developer. Like any demon-possessed predatory organism, the Walmart will move on to another host area and suck the life out of it too.

Here is a photo, never before released until this blog, of a Walmart Death Ray. I once saw a Target truck disabled on the interstate right above Belle Isle. From the roof of Walmart emerged a contraption that looked like something out of a Flash Gordon serial. The Target truck was vaporized -- just like in War of the Worlds (the good one, not the one that Tom Cruise and Dakota Screaming Fanning ruined).

There is one peculiar aspect of any Walmart. Once it has established itself, it cannot be undone. A Walmart is forever. Once open, it loses all regard for customer comfort, convenience and satisfaction. It knows it has us by that point, and the motto becomes Shop Here or Die. At one time I was a regular shopper. The store sold everything that has ever been invented or made in another country. Nothing, absolutely nothing sold in a Walmart is manufactured in the United States. When I shopped there, it took approximately three days to get through the store, but fortunately there were inns and pubs along the way.

In my travels, I noticed things, especially if I shopped late at night. That was my vain effort to avoid the Walmart People, the worst part of any Walmart experience. They are always there. Always. Like the low prices.

It is also at night that Walmart releases an army of stockers into the aisles. Boxes, cans and pallets fly with a furious crazed frenzy. Can you say tweeker? I know not, but the energy comes from some place; it ain’t natural. Of course most of the customers in any Walmart on any given day are also on some sort of mood enhancer or personality amplifier. No offense to myself.

The Belle Isle Super Walmart has about 50 check-out counters, and 47 of those are phony. Always. Tap on one of the “registers” some time. Cardboard from China, painted to LOOK like a cash register by skilled 3-year old artisans in Indonesia. Of the three registers that are real, one is always idle. Always. This accounts for perhaps the second most tortuous part of the Walmart experience: the eternal and infinite lines of fat huddled masses -- customers waiting to check out, yearning to breathe free, and who aren’t going to get out alive. Least not for an hour or two.

This reminds me. Ever notice near the “service” desk of a Super Walmart, there is row of shopping carts chock full of items (some formally frozen and likely to be returned to the freezers)? These baskets were abandoned by the shoppers who filled them. Customers who took one look at the checkout lines and decided they didn’t need all that stuff after all, so they left. We should LOL@Walmart for that “shrinkage,” which is their term for profit loss.

In truth, there is no profit loss at a Walmart. Anything left over from anything that can’t be sold is mixed and ground up with Walmart’s proprietary Füd Prodduck®. The end result is Old Roy dog food. Did you know that hair from the floor of Walmart “salons” is swept up, baled, and made into wigs worn by country singer dolls that are sold at Branson? This is recycling, and it gives Walmart “green cred” with the hippies in Marin County.

The restrooms are also located near the “service” desk. Here’s another interesting fact. When people in really awful smelly Third World countries like Somalia encounter a really awful smelly restroom over there, they exclaim, “this toilet smell like restroom in Walmart! (may allah be merciful).” Yes. Always. The restrooms are not cleaned. Ever. The sign on the door, with names of attendants and times they cleaned? Fake. There are no restroom attendants or janitors in any Walmart. This is why every item or surface in every Walmart is sticky.

What’s more, the “sink” is really more of a trough, and it is physically impossible to wash one’s hands without touching the bottom of the sink. The sink also doubles as a urinal, but taking turns is encouraged by the Smiley Face on the wall. This gives Walmart “green cred” with the hippies in Portland, but it's nasty.

Not making this part up.

My last visit to any Walmart was on September 1, 2011. I needed an HDMI cable for the new blu-ray player I had to have, since I don’t actually own any blu-ray DVDs. Walmart had them, but they were bolted in with some kind of ghetto device that shoplifters probably know how to outwit. For several days I searched for a clerk, or a reasonable facsimile of a clerk, who might have some sort of key to unlock the HDMI cable. Finally, I spied two women at the electronics department counter, mere steps away from the cable. One was even the manager of the department.

Even though I was already frustrated, I waited for them to finish talking about someone I didn’t care about, but who also worked there. I asked them to unlock the cable so I could buy it. No, they couldn't help me. It seems they were “pulling registers”. Neither could spare ten seconds to assist me. One actually “hollered” for another clerk, a “Miss ----leen,” to come and help. Miss ----leen also must have been pulling registers. She never responded to the yells or the alternate method of summoning assistance in Walmart, the dog whistle. So I said I’d have to get one at Target. They shrugged. I was thinking post office? Department of Motor Vehicles? Worse.

The odd thing was they didn’t care. One must actually go inside one of these behemoth Super Walmarts to experience that level of unpleasant apathy. When I got home, I did what Brian Griffin of “Family Guy” recommends: I got on the internet and complained. Then I took what was practically a Masonic Oath never to enter a Walmart again.

We all know everything is cheap there. We all know why. To borrow part of a phrase, “all the books in the world could not contain" the entirety of Walmart’s malice, cruelty, indifference, and fatness.

For more than a generation, I’ve watched this company, which is Worse than Hitler. No offense to Hitler. To comply with Godwin's Law, we always need the requisite reference to Hitler or the Nazis. Always. Walmart invaded Poland. It has destroyed the small towns of America. Formally bustling downtown shops are vacant and useless, decorated only by the unintelligible spray painted ciphers of the gangster community.

Only a fraction of Walmartian evil is public knowledge. I suspect, though, that trading with Walmart is akin to doing business with I. G. Farben, the German industrial giant that profited from the slave labor at Auschwitz and other resorts during World War II. Whatever Walmart does to get all that crap into this country, and then sell it so cheaply – well, it can’t be nice.

I’m convinced America is fat because of Walmart. Millions have no work because of Walmart. I’m also convinced I will never again lighten or darken the doors of one of those smelly, ticky-tacky death camps. “Mr. Sam” Walton, a man I liked and admired, is turning over in his mausoleum. Even his beloved dog, Old Roy, is turning over in his dogoleum.

©2011 by Randall P. Hodge, Esq., and Morningwood-DRK Enterprises – Prestige Worldwide

Oddjob

Chinese President Hu Jintao arrived at the White House on Wednesday, welcomed by choreographed crowds bussed in from Chicago, who enthusiastically waved the flags of the United States, China and Walmart.

Hu sported a nicely tailored steel rimmed bowler hat. In order to amplify his point that the United States now owes the People's Republic of Red Communist China a trillion bucks, Hu flung the bowler hat directly at Obama, and whopped him upside the head. Then, according to reports at the TMZ website, Hu beat Obama with his shoe, like a red headed step child at rival K-Mart.

Later, with obvious bruises and whelps on his face, Obama claimed he "fell."

Hu Jintao

Obama and his minions have unleashed what amounts to diplomatic fellatio for the visiting Chinesemens. It won't help. They want they monies, and they won't take no check, neither.

I'm reminded of the "Family Guy" episode in which Brian borrowed money from Stewie. In order to make Brian repay the debt, Stewie beat him with (among other things) a towel bar, and then set him on fire with a blow torch. China won't be as patient as Stewie.
Obama will be remembered for what is likely the dumbest and most inappropriate gifts ever given to dignitaries. He presented non-working DVDs to the Prime Minister of Great Britain, an ipod or some Apple gadget, to the Queen of England, and Japanese porn (with that annoying masking) to the Pope.

What did the President give to America's Banker, President Hu Jintao? Incredibly, Obama presented him with a gift card good at participating Pei Wei Chinese takeaway, and a deluxe set of Chinese Checkers (Made in China). That's just racist.

At least the President stuck to a Chinese theme. To the state dinner tonight, the Obamas invited Bonanza's "Hop Sing," actor Jackie Chan, and figure skater Michelle Kwan.

Hop Sing

I'm lying about some of that.

Walmart will be remembered for getting us in this debt mess with China, for having destroyed small town America, for forcing on us those awful bi-lingual signs, creating fat people (no offense to myself), and for selling televisions that cost about $9.00.

China will be remembered because it invented Chinese food, paper, silk, a language that most of us can't learn, and for having the ability to lose 400 million people in a war.

Obama should pay the debt to Red Communist China and stop sucking up. They are mean, and they aren't our friends.

We should stop shopping at Walmart -- at least until they open up more of the 56 (probably fake) check-out stands.

Ever notice those buggies loaded with stuff in the aisle by the service desk? Those were abandoned by people who'd shopped for hours and planned to purchase all that crap. Then, seeing the eternal lines at the two open registers, they realized they didn't need all that stuff after all.

It's all Truman's fault if you think about it.

©Randall P. Hodge, Esq., and Morningwood Enterprises, Ltd.

Coexist and Let Live

My ghurl Genna posted something on the facebooks the other day. In the wake of the Tucson shootings, it was a plea for us to be more tolerant of those with whom we disagree. I've never been a "Coexist" kind of guy, and tolerance is a tough one because I hate almost everything. I need to work on tolerance, and about everything else.

The Jews and Christians are good, since we invented the Bible and Western Civilization, and I suppose we need males and females. The peace sign is for hippies. They left off the swastika because of racism against the Nazis. The other stuff is weird.

Not really.

Lately, it's as if all the atheists in America have been in my face. Whether it's blasphemous cartoons depicting the Baby Jesus, snarky little facebook posts that demean God or my boy C. S. Lewis, or haters who practically threw used condoms at me because I celebrated the news of the Beatification of Pope John Paul the Great on May 1st. How can someone hate John Paul II? I dunno, but they do, trust me. It's always about condoms with some people.

Most of the atheists I've encountered are angry. They are angry at God, but they don't even believe He exists. They are angry at people who believe in God, but they don't believe in Him. Many of them delight in belittling people and matters of faith. I don't get it.

Check the comments after any article on religion in any major newspaper online. A lot of comments are nasty, mean and disrespectful, and they are from atheists. Why bother to comment on a subject that should be irrelevant to someone who doesn't believe in God? Why'd you read the article in the first place?

Growing up in a small town, I don't recall ever meeting an agnostic -- much less a real atheist. Everyone went to church or was of some faith, or at least pretended. There weren't a lot of restrictions on practicing faith, whether at school or at a football game. Atheists have ruined that. Atheists and lawyers. No offense to myself.

When my very spiritual grandma died in September, I thought of her life and great faith. She prayed me through every challenge, crisis and mess I was ever in. Yes.

How amused she would have been at the notion of someone not believing in God. She'd have been polite, but I can't see her spending a lot of time talking about faith with someone who didn't believe in God. Lightning might strike. Plus, she'd think an atheist was just plain goofy. She didn't hate though.

My Aunt Lois. One of my favorites. In the 70's my cousin was home from serving in the Peace Corps in Iran (those were the happy golden days of the Shah). We were all enthralled with Linda's tales about the culture and people of what would eventually become the despotic Islamic Republic of Iran.

Sidebar: I loved the Shah. Granted, he and SAVAK got carried away sometimes. It happens.

Aunt Lois asked one question, "do they have any Churches of Christ over there?" I loved that. In those days perhaps the Church of Christ was allowed in Iran. It wouldn't be permitted now, though. In the Islamic Republic of Iran they behead and stone people -- not necessarily in that order. They also don't allow competition from other faiths. The culture and food were all fine and good, but my sweet aunt wondered if people in Iran had access to a family of believers who could share the wondrous faith she enjoyed.

I am lucky I was and continue to be influenced by many people with great faith -- FROM many faiths, from Pentecostal to Mormon to Catholic. Real. Strong. Simple. Assured. Earned.

No miracles needed. Just a little experience. A little reliance on God to see if He is there. A few childlike prayers. A great many adultlike prayers. Discovering that God is there. Faith is a gift. We're lucky when we have it. Once we have some measure of faith in God, it is always there, no matter how "prone (we are) to wander or leave the fold of God." See hymn below.

I need God most in time of trouble. When I am afraid, and when I feel helpless. When I don't know what to do, or where to turn. I don't know how this life DVD ends, so it is my nature to fear. It doesn't matter that situations have always worked out for the best -- exactly the way they were supposed to. It doesn't matter that the elves always seem to show up in time.

There is a fat little data tech nerd living in my head. Every night, he deletes the part of my brain that would help me remember that God is big, He loves me, and He has always helped me.

It seems to be God's nature to fix and help -- even when I don't deserve it. Even when I forget to ask Him. Even though He has fixed and helped me about 20 million times. I keep forgetting.

When Lyn got sick I told him that I was mad at God. What a cliche'. I got mad at God because I didn't like the way He was running the universe, or because someone got sick. Lyn advised, "God doesn't need your approval, and He probably doesn't care if you are mad at him."

Lyn reminded me of a verse in the Book of Job, which we both loved: "Where wast thou when I laid the foundations of the earth?" He told the oceans when to stop, too. I wasn't around when the morning stars sang together, either. I missed all of that.

It worked out the way it was supposed to, but not the way we wanted. It was during that difficult time (harder for him, as he was the sick one) I discovered my favorite quote from C. S. Lewis:

"I pray because I can't help myself. I pray because I'm helpless; I pray because the need flows out of me all the time, waking and sleeping. It doesn't change God; it changes me."

It changes me.

Dr. Charles Stanley once said he prayed because it helped him get into the Will of God. Might as well, because the Will of God is what's up. God wins.

God loves us, I am convinced, but He doesn't need us. He'll USE us if we want to serve Him. He gave us gifts, and He'll throw us in amongst a pile of people we are uniquely qualified and experienced to help. If we want. If we are willing. If we aren't interested, He'll find someone else. Still, He loves us enough to chase after us quite awhile.

He doesn't need us, or our approval, but I think He likes it when we hang out with Him, and when we help His other children. Things happen, good and bad. God intervenes or not, at times, and we're not given to know why. People are mean. God isn't mean.

It's as if He created us and turned us loose. He made us different so He could see how we'd treat each other. How we'd "coexist." He steps in now and again, but mostly we have free will to shlep about and step in things. It turns out we don't treat each other very well at all.

In the end it all gets fixed and people don't cry any more. That's enough for me, for now. Not that I won't be worried about something tomorrow.

I stopped texting long enough the other day to listen. A man said, "I can't prove to you that God exists, but God has proved His existence to me."

Word.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mUhU0HgTq94

Very nice hymn, that one.

©2011 Randall P. Hodge, Esq., Morningwood Enterprises, Ltd. Thanks, MBS. Pour vous.