We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
Nice selection of links, BD. Ever notice how no one calls Home Depot by its full name? I always thought that was an odd bit of pre-marketing research on The Home Depot's part. You'd think they would have named it what people were actually going to call it.
Regarding Hillary's remark:
And as far as the polygamy issue goes, here's the question I asked on my site after those neo-nazis raided the Texas compound:
I'm trying to decide why marrying a person of the same sex is perfectly okay -- even encouraged -- but marrying two people of the opposite sex means a jail term.
There are a lot of good things about Western Civilization, but rationalism has never been its strong point.
"But our world sometimes seems to be run by psychotics."
The stat I read was that almost a fourth of our farmland has now been converted to serving the ethanol industry. Putting our food into gas tanks instead of mouths -- is that psychotic or delusional?
I hope you are right. The self destruction of the Dems may be the last hope for America from this assault of socialist left.
McCain better pick a VP with conservative credentials - in particular economic credibility. Then he needs to get back to smaller government, less regulation and lower taxes.
The ad would be simple. If you vote for BHO you will work another 2 months (my guess) a year for the government putting tax amnesty day into July. And I can think of more ways to fillet the nitwits on the left.
''At the beginning of the seventh row, I read the name: "Gerard Van der Leun." My name. Cut into the stone amongst a tally of the dead.
If you have an unusual name, there's nothing that prepares you for seeing it in a list of the dead on a summer Sunday afternoon in Battery Park in 1975. I don't really remember the feeling except to know that, for many long moments, I became chilled.
When that passed, I knew why my name was in the stone. I'd always known why, but I'd never known about the stone or the names cut into it.
"Gerard Van der Leun" was, of course, not me. He was someone else entirely. Someone who had been born, lived, and died before I was even conceived. He was my father's middle brother. He was what my family had given to stop Fascism, Totalitarianism and Genocide in the Second World War. He was one of their three sons. He was dead before he was 22 years old. His body never recovered, the exact time and place of his death over the Atlantic, unknown.
As the first child born after his death, I was given his name, Gerard. But as a child I was never called by that name. I was always called "Jerry." "Jerry" is not a diminutive of "Gerard." There are none for that name. But "Jerry" I would be because the mere mention of the name "Gerard" was enough to send my grandmother into a dark state of mind that would last for weeks. This was true, as far as I know, for all the days of her life and she lived well into her 80s.
My grandfather could barely speak of Gerard and, being Dutch, his sullen reticence let all of us know very early that it was wrong to ask.''
((just a snip from the eponymous link in the post -- the whole piece is so good i can't find any words for it))