Saturday, March 15, 2008
Rev. Jeremiah Wright...no prophet!
In response to a loud outcry from voters around the nation, Presidential hopeful - Barack Obama - has distanced himself from his Church Pastor Rev. Jeremiah Wright for uttering outrageous hateful remarks in recent days.
"I vehemently disagree and strongly condemn the statements that have been the subject matter of this controversy," the Senator wrote in a column published online at Huffington Post.
On occasion the mouthy voice piece has focused attacks on Hillary Clinton direct from the pulpit.
For instance, Wright stridently remarked in a Christmas sermon,
"Hillary Clinton was not a black boy raised in a single-parent home - but Barack Obama was."
He raged on, much to the dismay of a startled congregation,
"Barack knows what it means to be a black man living in a country and a culture that is controlled by rich white people. Hillary! Hillary can never know that. Hillary ain't ever been called a nigger! Hillary has never had her people defined as a non-person."
In another sermon he referred to the United States as,
"The U.S. of K.K.K.A."
Some jump to the pastor's defense by alleging that although Wright's sermons may appear to be too provocative for Sunday morning service, they actually reflect a proud history of what Walter Earl Fluker of Morehouse College in Atlanta would call "prophetic preaching - which is the trademark of the Black Church tradition - in which Jeremiah Wright is one of the most illustrious exemplars."
Peter Paris, Professor Emeritus of Christian Social ethics at Princeton Theological Society, added that prophets are basically reformers and not revolutionaries.
"There's a fine line beyond which one is no longer prophetic but revolutionary. He's not there, but the language may appear from time to time to be there."
There's nothing prophetic about his inflammatory remarks. Without doubt, Wright crossed the line for a man of God.
In the House of the Lord sermons should focus on the "word" and the salient points of their spiritual essence wisely set forth in the Holy Bible for all to peruse in a moment of reflection.
Moreover, whenever an orator stands before a congregation, he should endeavour to couch the language of the sermon in a manner that engenders widespread universal appeal.
For example, instead of name-calling or pointing an accusing finger at this great country or labelling the nation the - "U.S. of KKK" - the Reverend should find a way to address the issues of racism, discrimination, and prejudice in a more eloquent far-reaching capacity so that the sermon is inspiring, not denigrating.
But, to be fair, Rev. Wright is not alone in his efforts to manipulate the faithful.
For example, during a service at the "Good Shepherd" last fall, one of the Priests took it upon himself to suggest that when Peter referred to a personal dilemma that "upset" him, he may have been referring to the fact he was "gay".
It was so preposterous a notion that I laughed out loud in Church!
Needless to say, the priest retreated. Then, went off on another tangent.
On another occasion I was also hopping mad when a female rector (taking up residence at "All Saint's Church" in Beverly Hills) chose - on the occasion of her first sermon - to address the issue of women and their function in the Church.
In a bold-faced effort to validate her right to "preach" the word of God - which remains in conflict with the dictates of the scriptures - she proceeded to twist and distort the verses to suit her agenda.
Maybe now Rev. Wright can fathom what the "whore" of Babylon truly represents.
No wonder people are turning away from Sunday morning service.
As the Easter season approaches, I urge our men of the cloth to just focus on the Holy Bible, please.
Unless, they want to be crucified, of course!
Andrew Kiraly...publishes false statements, lacks professional ethics. Bleary-eyed, Las Vegas CityLife?
It must be the desert sun, or maybe there's something in the water, that makes journalists in Las Vegas so stupid...
A case in point, Andrew Kiraly - Managing Editor - of Las Vegas CityLife.
A few weeks ago, Mr. Kiraly contacted me to request an interview about an disturbing incident I reported on my blog in January, which "went down" at the Golden Nugget Hotel in Las Vegas.
In a nutshell, I was walking through the rows of one-armed bandits one afternoon in the Casino, when a female security guard ambushed me, and demanded my I.D. in a rude insulting manner. I handed it over to her, but reeled over the fact that there appeared to be a case of mistaken identity or something. I mean, why was she harassing me?
When I asked her to explain her actions, she sought a quick defense. In response, she stated matter-of-fact that she spied me wandering about the casino floor, not betting, and looking suspicious.
In fact, in my hand I held a voucher that was dated and time-stamped, that verified I had been plugging coins into the slots for the previous half hour, contrary to her wild allegations!
Obviously, I caught the woman in a lie, trying to validate her unwarranted intrusion.
For good reason, I asked for her supervisor.
A pudgy, ineffectual man appeared, pooh-poohing my claims of inappropriate conduct. So, I asked to see his boss. At this point, he was quite adamant that he was the "top brass" at the Hotel Casino. Of course, I surmised his claims were false, and demanded that the "Manager" speak with me in person on the Casino floor, pronto!
At this juncture, Mr. Realmuto - the real Casino Manager - appeared.
After a brief discussion, he concluded that my complaints were well-founded. Realmuto assured me the Security Guard would apologize (or be suspended) and went on his way to take care of other Casino Business.
However, the Security Guard refused to come back to the floor and express regrets.
So, I reported the distressing incident on my blog, warning tourists about questionable security practices at the Golden Nugget Casino which might warrant a boycott.
Post: January 8, 2008
In spite of the fact Mr. Kiraly read the initial Golden Nugget post (which was self-explanatory) he asked me to respond to additional questions for the article he was penning.
I complied with his request, by e-mail.
For a couple of weeks, I never heard back; so, I assumed he published the article.
Then, one day out-of-the-blue, he contacted me once again. On this occasion, he assured me he was basically ready to put the news report "to bed", but needed a couple of additional details clarified for the article.
At this juncture, he asked me to provide my last name.
When I pointed out my name was at the top of my blog, he responded, "Whoops!"
Why kind of investigative journalist was this?
Then, to make matters worse, he proceeded to ask a couple of redundant questions. Even still, I remained patient, and provided thoughtful responses without delay to assist with his investigation of the facts.
Imagine my surprise when I was searching the world-wide-web last week and came across the article he'd written, rife with false statements.
For example, Mr. Kiraly reported that I refused to show my I.D. to the security guard.
A total falsehood!
Then, he proceeded to build a story on this false premise.
For example, he wrote:
"Now, strange things happen in casinos, but what followed was one for the books. Ayrs - steadfast in his refusal to show his I.D. and quickly becoming convinced he was the victim of some form of discrimination - drew a veritable chain of Golden Nugget management into a philosophical debate over whether he had to show his I.D."
The account was totally off!
There wasn't any philosophical debate over whether I should show my I.D. How could there be? I showed it upon request.
Mr. Kiraly got all his facts screwed up.
At issue was not whether I showed my I.D. - but rather - the false allegations the security guard made on the Casino floor, which not only embarrassed and humiliated me, but damaged my name and reputation to the other Hotel guests standing nearby.
Indeed, Mr. Kiraly's twisted account of the events, actually inferred that because of an "alleged refusal" to show my I.D., I was at fault.
Hogwash; nothing could be further from the truth.
But Mr. Kiraly's lack of journalistic skills did not end there.
When I contacted him to inform him of the "factual errors", he had the audacity to assert that I neglected to disclose I showed my I.D.
The reason I chose to conduct the interview by e-mail was to ensure that all my statements were in writing and to prevent any misquotes.
In my response e-mail, I pointed out that I saved copies of all the communications, and had evidence in my possession that verified he had been properly informed.
I also noted my dismay over the fact he appeared to try to shift blame on me.
To date, there has not been any reply from Mr. Kiraly.
After firing off a communication to the Editor, I received word back that a retraction would be printed.
But, how do you unring a bell?
I noticed at their web site this past week, that the editor has noted in the article at their online web site, that a mistake was made in respect to my "alleged" refusal to show I.D.
But, even in this instance, the paper has failed miserably in respect to journalistic ethics.
Normally, a newspaper prints a retraction in a "separate" notice, in a prominent place in the publication. The purpose of this procedure is to ensure attention is drawn to the fact that the journalist made a mistake in reporting the facts, and to make a good faith effort to ensure readers are aware of it.
At Las Vegas CityLife...they recognized they were legally and morally obligated to correct the errors; but, bottom line, it's evident by their sloppy patch-up job that they did not want to draw attention to the fact their managing editor made such grievous errors in respect to a representation of the facts.
I have to wonder at this point how a top-level editor managed to mess up so royally.
Does the man have difficulty reading and understanding English (and comprehending facts), or is he just out-to-lunch?
All things considered, I can't help but ponder the notion that he chose to misrepresent the facts, to suit his own agenda.
Either way you look at it, the man is a menace to the field of journalism.
Andrew Kiraly...looking a little bleary-eyed!
In response to the recent mortgage crisis, and cautioning against hasty measures by the government, Mr. Bush allegedly remarked,
"The challenge is not to do anything foolish."
Mr. Bush should know!
Friday, March 14, 2008
The silver screen lit up and the first few scenes of the release - "Never Back Down" - sprang to life.
Suddenly, old memories flooded my thoughts and I was propelled back to the days of my youth.
I was thirteen and in the process of settling into a new school - making friends and catching up on my studies, that sort-of-thing - when a crisis loomed on the horizon.
A class bully started to pound on me daily in spite of the fact he was unprovoked.
For instance, at recess, the boy (Danny Bloomer was his name) would unexpectedly turn up out-of-the-blue - jab me in the gut or slap me viciously on the back of the head - then trot off leaving me bewildered and bruised.
Although Danny was a popular good-looking kid - clearly there was something twisted or mentally off - about the lad.
I tried to avoid a direct confrontation - and ultimately, a fight - but he'd always be at me egging me on for no good reason.
One day he poked me a little too roughly in the ribs.
Without warning - my right hand bunched up tightly into a fist - and shot forward and smacked him squarely in the face. He fell back in shock, collected himself, then stared back at me in amazement as I turned and strode off a little shaken.
Within the hour Danny was sporting a black eye and the halls were abuzz with the rumor that Bloomer was going to kick my butt when class let out at three that afternoon.
"Okay. I'll meet him after school," I assured his scruffy messengers who scurried off into the woodwork to spread the news.
By the end of the day the emotions were high and the excitement had built to a fever pitch as all the students at Regent Heights geared up for the "big fight".
When the school bell rang out at the end of the day and I stepped into the golden sunlight to face my plight, I found myself thrown headlong into an enthusiastic throng of supporters cheering me on.
But, Danny was nowhere in sight.
"He'll be here. Your a** is gonna' get whooped," his gang of rough-neck pals taunted from the sidelines.
Well, he didn't put in his pretty mug.
About fifteen minutes later, though, his father roared up the tree-lined street in his pick-up truck and skidded to a halt at the curb a few feet away.
In response to something he mumbled as he exited the vehicle, an excited junior pointed in my direction.
Then, Mr. Bloomer strolled over and looked me up and down incredulously.
"Are you the boy who gave Danny the black eye?"
"Yes, sir," I responded as audibly as I could.
"Why don't the two of 'ya be friends?"
"I didn't want to fight. Danny started it," I muttered with as much gusto as I could muster up.
His father shook his head a little and then suggested that I go on down to the house and shake hands with his son. He'd be waiting, he assured me.
At this juncture, I embarked on the short walk to his house to call the truce.
To my amazement, a mob of boisterous students tagged along behind, as I headed in that direction.
It was a bit awkward because Danny's house was just a few doors down from my own on the same street. I'd have to manipulate my way through the crowd and conceal my face somehow so my guardians wouldn't catch sight of the spectacle unfolding around me.
When we arrived at the weathered two-storey house, one of the boys dashed up the rickety stairs to the front door to summon Danny. A few moments later, he reluctantly stepped outside and awkwardly glanced in my direction.
I strolled right up and put out my hand. When he weakly grabbed at it, the kids in the neighborhood let out a loud cheer.
Gosh, it felt like I was in a scene in a Hollywood movie!
Which brings us back to the Summit feature film.
Jake, the main character in a quickie film that amounts to a piece of teen eye-candy, is forced to deal with the same troubling issue when he crosses paths with a bully the first day back in school.
As he hangs on the edge of indecision about the course of action to take, an unrelenting gang of unruly rebellious teens spur him on.
And, there is no turning back.
Torn between a conscience and a need to "stand up" against the gathering forces that menacingly swirl around (brute mentality, raging hormones, pent-up anger) the star athlete struggles to meet the challenge, and in the process, redefines himself.
At first glance - "Never Back Down" - is an obvious rip-off of the "Karate Kid".
Same plot, really.
New kid on the block gets hassled by a big bad bully - turns to a mentor for guidance (and ultimately) prevails in a knock-em-down drag-out-fight with self-esteem and integrity intact.
Yeah, he rides off into the sunset with the bodacious babe, to boot.
In stark contrast to Karate Kid, though - "Never" - is testosterone-charged, brimming with gutsy bravado, and is way over-the-top.
What do you expect when street-fighting and spilling your guts is exalted as a spectator sport?
Yeah - it's a nervy exploitative teen flick with mega doses of sensual visuals - rippling abs and virgin flesh, that sort-of-thing - crafted with scintillating MTV-style seducers sure to make it go box office boffo overnight.
The message - what there is of it - drowns in its wake.
One quip from Jake, says it all.
When his guru solemnly instructs him on the "Art" of breathing when engaged in fight-play, he smirks without batting a pretty eyelash,
"Is this the grasshopper speech?"
This piece of mindless fluff should be so lucky to have the wisdom of the sages descend on it.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
As I watched a couple of quirky teenagers trek up to the pump with gas tank in hand, sweating under the sweltering mid-day sun, I counted my blessings.
After all, one of the premier features on my vehicle is a nifty digital read-out which keeps track of fuel consumption.
Yeah, at a time when folks are pinching pennies for gas, and hazarding a guess as to when they may "run on empty" on the freeway, I have only to tap a button on the dash to determine how many miles to travel before I skid to a halt, my thirsty vehicle sputtering for precious fuel.
But, I have noticed a disturbing turns of events in the past week or two.
After fueling at a couple of stations over the course of a week, the fuel gauge has reflected a level inconsistent with the cash I've dolled out at the local pump.
One morning, when the figures appeared to be particularly low, I seriously considered the possibility that in the dead of night, some sneaky gas thieves had siphoned off gas.
But, it also occurred to me that gas station owners may be fudging at the pumps.
Is the fuel being watered down, perhaps?
On the heels of this observation, I picked up on another curious trend.
After pumping, and returning the nozzle to its resting place, it's been my experience that the pumps are holding back on issuing receipts!
At a time when prices are fluctuating from $3.59 to $3.72 a gallon for regular, I seriously have to consider the possibility that the pump boys are withholding the tabulations - maybe cooking the books, at our expense?
Ya know, I have a nose for this kind of thing.
I just betcha, there's a nasty scandal brewing on the horizon.
Mark my words!
Pumping in futuristic style...
When I exited the screening of "Sleepwalking", I overheard a theatre-goer question a friend.
"Well, did you like it?"
"No," she sighed. "It was too much of a downer".
If you're lookin' for a feel-good movie with smart one-liners and a smash up or two - even a little taboo sexual innuendo tossed in - you'll have to focus your sights elsewhere.
For this family drama, Charlize Theron wore two hats; one as star, the other as producer of the project.
Although Theron turns in a fine performance as a troubled young mother facing personal demons, there aren't any insightful new revelations about her acting capabilities here, unfortunately.
In essence, her characterization is a facet of the same old same old.
On the other hand, with a deft hand at the helm of this modest quality movie (shot in Canada), Ms. Theron has clearly established she's one to reckon with on the production end.
There is no fat to trim, the casting is dead on, and the storytelling devices work admirably.
In a nutshell, "Sleepwalker" is a tale about a rebellious farm girl, forced to hit the road with her young brother, when she clashes with her father's puritanical ways and unrelenting work ethic.
As the film opens, the audience witnesses the main character's first dilemma, as she is turfed from her home on the heels of her boyfriend's arrest by old smoky after he's been caught cultivating marijuana.
Essentially, the drama focuses on her relationship with her young daughter, child services looming in the wings, and her sensitive brother who treads water on the sidelines until he is forced to swim forward to his niece's rescue at a critical arc in the film.
Sleepwalking is visually appealing, and graced with a well-written script, with bang-on believable dialogue.
The moviegoer can't help but be drawn in, so effective is the spinning of the yarn.
And, on occasion, the messages are fresh and revealing.
For example, in one key scene the brother breaks down, after years of pent-up emotion.
Here, the filmmakers appear to be underscoring a truth.
"Yes, even men have feelings, that cry out for expression."
And, when tears are shed on such an occasion, they are capable of healing, no matter the gender.
Acting kudos go to Nick Stahl in the role of the brother.
AnnaSophia Robb effectively digs under the skin as the daughter in a stand-out performance, as well.
Woody Harrelson takes a surprise turn as an offbeat character with an infectious sense of humor who elicits spontaneous gales of laughter from the audience.
As usual, Dennis Hopper rivets the moviegoer with his precise focus on details which add immeasurably to his menacing characterization.
In sum, "Sleepwalking" is an intimate film experience that touches, provokes thought - and ultimately - makes you ponder the human condition.
Dennis Hopper & AnnaSophia Robb sleepwalk...Nick Stahl featured actor in Carnival...
After catching a Daniel Radcliffe performance "starkers" (an English term for naked) in an overseas stage production in recent days, J.K. Rowlings gushed to the diminutive young star backstage that she intends to pencil in some sensual nudie scenes in the upcoming Harry Potter sequels.
Guess she's into foreskin, eh?
Check out Harry Potter gay? Video:
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
A few months ago, I speculated in a post that when it came to voting in the privacy of the polling booths, Americans would be inclined to vote for their own - women for the female candidate, blacks for the Afro-American hopeful, white men for the best Caucasian prospect.
There has been a lot of controversy under the bridge since then - as voters, pundits, and the media alike - tip-toed around the race issue, in particular; usually with disastrous results!
Funny that, a large percentage of the populace became color blind almost overnight - afraid to be labeled racist? You bet!
Or, have Americans suddenly perceived Obama in a different light? Less menacing, not the wild card they expected to encounter on the campaign trail, eh - do 'ya think?
"Saturday Night Live" was recently criticized for hiring a white comedian to impersonate Barack Obama in a hilarious controversial skit which took delicious pokes at both the Senator and Hillary Clinton alike. Some complained quite vigorously that because there was a writers strike on - which stalled production for weeks - that the casting office had ample opportunity to audition for a black fella' to inhabit the politician's skin.
But, wasn't that part of the jab? Weren't the producers subtly suggesting that Obama is an "oriole" - black on the outside, lily white within?
In retrospect, his unique background - his childhood experience, in particular - may have somehow made him more palpable to American voters in the mainstream, I expect.
Curiously, in a recent poll this past week, one in four whites admitted that race was important to their vote, while four out of ten blacks confessed to the same.
A hat off to the honest voter with the gumption to tell it like it is!
Undoubtedly, there are quite a few voters inclined to be influenced by the race card, cowering in the wings, who lack the spine to fess up.
Meanwhile, in the past couple of days, there was a startling new turn of events on the American political scene.
Geraldine Ferraro shattered the "black ceiling" when she boldly asserted that the reason Obama was fairing so well with American voters was BECAUSE he is Black!
What a switcheroo!
For decades, the widely-held general consensus has been that - "black will hold you back" - in respect to politics, gaining entry to the rarefied enclaves of the American social elite, you name it.
In Ferraro's eyes, skin tone is sure to land you at the top of the heap!
Of course, from the sidelines, the critics cried out in angry unison, "Racist".
But when you reflect on the matter, is it?
Whenever we try to fathom the success of an individual, don't we generally take an insightful, probing glance into all the facets of the unfolding scenario that make it so?
Here, the truth is difficult to swallow!
I say, get real America!
Good on Ferraro, for sticking to her - um - guns.
Put that in your pipe, and smoke it!
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
First - there was Viagra - a nifty pharmaceutical designed to help rouse a limp "Johnson".
Yeah, it's a friendly pecker-upper, alright. Any adventurous guy who's stepped up the bat can attest to that!
But - few sexually-savvy guys are familiar with the ins-'n-outs of the drug- or how it functions for instance.
Essentially, Viagra relaxes muscles and increases blood flow to vital physical parts of the body - to the male organ, in particular - where it packs a mighty wallop!
When Viagra was first introduced consumers often neglected to check the warning label - so, on occasion - a handful of horny guys with blue ba**s ended up in "emergency" after inadvertently combining the lethal arousal-drug with "poppers" - a well-known sex stimulant - with near-fatal results.
The manufacturer specifically notes that Viagra should not be taken if an individual is using a nitrate drug (poppers) for chest pain or heart problems. This includes nitroglycerin (Nitrostat, Nitrolingual, Nitro-Dur, Nitro-Bid, and others), isosorbide dinitrate (Dilatrate-SR, Isordil, Sorbitrate), and isosorbide mononitrate (Imdur, ISMO, Monoket).
Because Nitrates are found in recreational drugs such as amyl nitrate or nitrite ("poppers")taking Viagra with the sexually-oriented party favor can cause a serious decrease in blood pressure which may lead to fainting, a stroke, or heart attack.
During sexual activity - if a person becomes dizzy or nauseated, or has pain, numbness, or tingling in their chest, arms, neck, or jaw - they should bow out of the ardent lovemaking (before they fall out) and call a physician right away.
A number of smart active men have been leaning on the side of caution, though. Many are either inclined to avoid poppers altogether or have turned to natural herbal methods which tout a pill that gives rock-hard erections without the potent dangerous side-effects of Viagra.
Products like Vicerex, for instance. A curious root word for an enhancer, eh?
Maybe that's the appeal. After all, men like to be naughty, don't they?
Just ask that Governor in the news lately over his clandestine activities back east!
The makers of Vicerex use a potent formula with a primary base ingredient of Euricoma Longifolia also known as long jack or Tongkat Ali. It is a legendary scientifically proven effective herbal aphrodisiac and testosterone booster. And, is quickly becoming a best seller in the western world, according to the manufacturer.
The ads issue a stern warning, though.
"This product may produce intense sexual arousal, a spontaneous erection, and a sudden urge for sex!"
Maybe you shouldn't ingest Vicerex before heading out to the supermarket - otherwise - you may end up fondling the melons in the produce section. Not wise to pop one in the mouth prior to an early romp in the hay Sunday morning just before attendng Church, either. Who knows what's bound to occur during confession when that openly-gay priest lays his hands on.
What a relief!
If things go awry sexually, there is a thirty-day money-back guarantee.
You can take a shot at thirty days of erotic pleasure, then get your moolah back (not mojo, silly) with no strings attached. Just what every smooth-talking stud pines to hear!
And, because there has been a "discreet" billing on credit-card statements, none (not even the missus, if you have one) will be the wiser.
The product may be returned in the same plain wrapper it surreptitiously arrived in without even the postman fathoming what you've been up to!
However, there is another product on the market for the discerning male to consider.
You've seen the ads. A confident male strolls arm-in-arm with a bodacious babe at the beach at sunset sure he'll be able to spring into action when the moment of truth arrives without gravity weighing him down. And, keen on the idea that his sexual prowess will be redefined in advancing years.
Even the disclaimer is bound to bolster sales.
At the end of the commercial a soft-spoken voice notes,
"If you experience an erection for more than four hours contact your doctor immediately."
You betcha, to refill the prescription, pronto!
At Levitra web site, males may sign up for info...
Monday, March 10, 2008
In casting a ballot in the Presidential Race 08, voters are asked to consider who they would call at 3 a.m. in the morning in an hour of crisis...
Well, if the issue pertains to a clandestine "pardon", Hillary would win, by a long shot.
After all, she'd only have to turn over and shake the hubby (if he'd stop snoozing, for a moment or two) to arrange it, quick as a wink. And, all the strings - especially the sinister details as to who pulled 'em - would remain invisible, too.
Of course, in recent days, there has been a big flap in the media - and over at the Obama camp - over the questionable practices of "pardons", especially when they crept up to the Clinton's doorstep in the dead of night.
At issue...pardons Bill bestowed on a posse of close-knit citizens on his last day in office - to a handful of shadowy figures engaged in varying degrees of criminality stateside. And, the Clinton's refusal to release pertinent records pertaining to said individuals, the nature of the "blessings" received, and documents rife with strident opposition from the U.S. Department of Justice.
Obama's stick-to-it gang of inquisitors are on an all-out crusade - openly criticizing Hillary for not taking a more "hands on" approach to the scandal - which has reared its ugly head in the home stretch of the presidential race.
In view of her molasses-in-January speed at dealing with things - it appears to many - that she is thumbing her nose at everyone, lamenting in the process - "I'm not my husband's keeper."
Some critics on the sidelines conclude that if she refuses to hasten the release of red-letter documents at this juncture,
"Why would she offer 'em up, if she is president in the future?"
In a bold-faced effort to effect damage control (as usual) Hill and Bill are inclined to wrestle their way out of the dilemma by pointing accusing fingers at the Federal archivists at the oh-so prestigious Clinton Presidential Library - who they allege - are responsible for blocking the release of hundreds of pages of White House docs. In particular, those relevant to pardons Bill gave a seal of approval to in respect to convicted felon, and head honcho pal, Marc Rich.
The masters of smoke 'n mirrors argue that disclosure of advice received from their aides in respect to pardon issues should remain confidential, bottom line.
Especially if there is incriminating evidence afoot, if you catch my drift.
Heh, it's potent stuff!
The bulk of the materials contain info on pardons granted on the last day Mr. Clinton was fiddling with cigars in the Oval Office; for example, not only the pardons granted to controversial figures such as commodities broker Marc Rich (as aforementioned) but wife, Denise, too - who not only contributed campaign funds to the Clinton bid - but also donated $450,000 towards the start-up fund for the Clinton Library.
And, of course, the docs include volumes of paperwork that take an insightful focus on the eye-brow-raising pardons dolled out to two convicted felons - one charged with mail fraud, the other over illegal drugs. Curiously, it was later revealed, that Senator Clinton's brother actually received a pay-out of $200,000 to act on their behalf in that scurrilous instance.
As usual, Hillary and Bill knew nothing of the transaction. Zip!
Gee, for a couple that knows so little about what goes down in their own family circle, it boggles the mind to fathom how they expect to keep track of all the constituents and their needs, if they ever land back in the White House!
The saga gets more sinister, though, in the aftermath.
When USA Today sought documents under the Freedom of information Act, files arrived in true, Clinton-esque fashion...memos to and from Mr. Clinton and the Justice Department were redacted or withheld entirely, for instance.
The abuse of power did not end there, though.
In 2004, when Judicial Watch sought documents through the courts - in spite of the fact the Judge ordered them released - the "pardon documents" showed up at the watch-dog's headquarters - with key information blacked out.
The Clinton's swear up-and-down to the public, the media, and anyone within earshot that...it is the fault of Administrators at the National Archives who seek to protect the status quo; but clearly, their arguments do not pass the smell test.
Christopher Farrell, Director of "Watch", said it all in a nutshell when he argued that it is a ridiculous notion to withhold clemency petitions over privacy concerns.
"These are people who were convicted in a court and those cases are a matter of public record."
Mr. Farrell, it should be obvious by now...
A proper review of all pertinent documents are bound to reveal the extent of Clinton corruption, not that of the felons in question.
Just betcha, there's a nasty pile of dirt on the Clinton's tucked away in the shadows, bound to cause Hillary the election.
Yup, that's what all the fuss is about, in my estimation.
What to do about a female companion who stares deeply into your eyes when you're fervently prodding forward, in a round of sizzlin' hot one-on-one sex, and it distracts focus?
A men's health expert says,
"She probably thinks you like it, that it's an intimate act of sexual bonding that turns you on."
To combat the problem while you're thrusting away?
Stare back intently for a few penetrating moments; otherwise she'll think you are hiding something - having an affair, for instance - according to sex therapists.
I mean, you know how intuitive (downright wacko) women can be about such things.
By the way, while we're on the subject of foreplay.
Apparently, the nipples are less sensitive than other areas in that region of the female anatomy.
In fact, the sexually savvy ardent Lothario is more likely to thrill the ladies with tender caresses around the top, bottom, and sides of the breasts, experts note.
Curiously, stimulation actually spurs the release of oxytocin, a hormone linked to social bonding.
So, not only will you satiate her, but the sex will be more intense because she'll feel more connected to 'ya.
For guys insecure about their virility, it's suggested the diet be super-loaded with an abundance of fruits and vegetables, lean proteins, and whole grains.
And just maybe, it's time to burn off that spare tire, too.
Nutritionists say that increased body fat causes lower levels of testosterone, the hormone that normally revs up the sex life.
To alleviate the problem pronto?
Fast track some heart-pumping cardio - by stepping on a treadmill on a regular basis at the gym - or pencilling in daily sprints around the hood with the express aim of slimming down.
The exercise will increase blood flow to the throbbing penis where it matters most.
When you are running and up-to-speed, you'll finally have the gumption to say adios to your old buddy ED (erectile dysfunction).
Don't forget your rubbers!
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Just yesterday, as I stepped up to the Librarian's desk to check out a book, a man - about age forty - approached me with a flyer advertising an upcoming online event,
Winter Soldier: Iraq and Afghanistan
According to the blurb, the Internet presentation - focusing on tales of the ongoing atrocities overseas - will be the largest gathering of Iraq veterans to voice opposition to the War to date.
"As veterans who have served in these occupations we have a responsibility to share our stories with each other and also the American people. We do this to stand up for the soul of our country."
The four-day event will bring together veterans from across the country to testify about their experiences in Iraq and Afghanistan - and present video and photographic evidence. In addition, there will be panels of scholars, veterans, journalists, and other specialists to give context to the testimony. These panels will cover everything from the history of the GI resistance movement to the fight for veterans' health benefits and support.
From their perspective, perhaps the true nature of the War will be revealed!
If you're ready to listen, surf to:
To support winter soldier you can also:
*Donate; Winter Soldier needs your support.
*Organize neighbours; host public forums to share testimony.
*Spread the stories to news sources and Congress.
*Join the movement; sign a statement in support at their site.
*Take action; use testimonies to demand an end to the occupation.