“As a child I had a dream, a marvelous dream, in which I saw a wild place in the country. Dirty children were pouring down the road. The dream gave me the idea for my lifework…the Sanitarium. Everything here has behind it one ideal: biological living to improve the American race.”-John Harvey Kellogg

Emblazoned across the box of Kellogg’s Cocoa Krispies earlier this month (Coco Pops to anyone in the UK or Australia): “Now Helps Support Your Child’s Immunity!“.

Crikey.

Hang on! Where is my childhood breakfast time companion Coco the Monkey? And why do Americans get the correct spelling of “Cocoa” and the three brats from Rice Krispies (Crispies?) on the cover instead? Are Americans really more trusting of three young white kids with pixie ears and big scary eyes (the effects of a century of puffed rice laced with high fructose corn syrup) over a spritely brown big-eared monkey? I guess nutritional health claims carry more scientific weight when they’re introduced by magical singing elves Smack, Crack and Pot.

Are we naive enough to believe that cereal can increase immunity? Why, a box of cereal certainly works out cheaper than visiting the Doctors nowadays. A chocolatey spoon of puffed rice is also undoubtedly more tasty than a metal needle stabbing you in the upper arm. Why not just include a ‘free’ vial of the H1N1 vaccine (syringes sold separately) so we can all shoot up with a healthy dose of mercury and squalene before we “eat”? It may reduce the need for people to go a-rushin’ to their nearest clinic (amidst the “Oh-my-God-we-are-running-out” shortages and “God-save-us-in-the-scary-pandemic” type alerts). There you go ‘, that’s one from me. Keep it. Use it. Go on.

Apparently, the City Attorney of San Francisco, US, Dennis Herrera sent a letter to Kellogg’s and to the Food and Drug Administration in the US asking Kellogg’s to prove its claim:

“I am concerned the prominent use of the immunity claims to advertise a sugar-laden chocolate cereal like Cocoa Krispies may mislead and deceive parents of young children.”

No. Really?

Interestingly, in the same year as our friend Monsieur Kellogg (1852-1945), inventor of the cornflake, began selling cereal commercially (1906), he also founded the Race Betterment Foundation to help stop the “propagation of defectives.” Our Kellogg was also on the Advisory Council of the American Eugenics Society.

It seems that Kellogg was convinced that poor dietary and moral habits were leading America down the path of ‘race degeneration’. His solution was eugenics, not merely as a set of policies, but as a quasi-religious ideology. As you do, when you are the business of fashioning flattened flakes of corn.

Kellogg’s’ reveled in his role as defender of scientific efficiency in the realisation of power to control global breakfasting habits. Build up the monopoly; get kids hooked on sugar, playful characters and free toys and then pump whatever ‘immunity boosting’ elements you like into the boxes. For example, there are heaps of interesting articles on Folic Acid in cereal (and now we have it as mandatory for wheat flour – and therefore bread- in Australia). The ridiculousness of the entire situation is that the very target market for folic acid fortification is young women and mass medication is simply not good public health policy. [however, unlike the fluoride in the water, one does have a reasonable element of choice in what we eat for breakfast]. Like most things that get approved by food standard agencies and departments across the globe, there are too many unresolved issues and questions around safety and efficacy- nevermind the issue of the immorality of ‘mass medication’. I say: If in doubt, leave it out. But Kellogg’s insists that once we wake up we all (well, particularly impressionable young children) need to shovel down our mouths:

Rice, Sugar, Chocolate (4.5%), Cocoa Powder, Calcium Carbonate, Salt, Malt Flavouring, Flavouring, Niacin, Iron, Vitamin B6, Riboflavin B2, Thiamin B1, Folic Acid, Vitamin B12.

“Kellogg’s Krispies cereals provide consumers with 25 percent of their daily value of vitamins A, C, and E, which play an important role in boosting immunity according to peer-reviewed, published, scientific research” says Kellogg’s.

…Come on.

[Coco Pops are also 40% sugar by weight.]

In his work Plain Facts, Kellogg even prohibits those with contagious ‘urban’ diseases, such as tuberculosis, and cholera, from marrying and reproducing offspring, essentially targeting immigrants, and those whom he collectively labeled “the lower classes”. According to Kellogg, “a few generations of such a degenerating process would exterminate the [white] race, and drive it back to Darwin’s ancestral ape.” Kellogg even compared the product of miscegenation, “hybrid” humans, with mongrel dogs: “Different varieties or races of the same species may form a fertile union, the result of which is a mongrel — a cross between its two parents, possessing some of the qualities of each. All the varieties of dogs are produced by crossing different races, and so are mongrels.

One newspaper said Dr. Kellogg and Dr. Burbank were trying to make the United States into a great stock farm, by breeding for human efficiency.

“I wish we had the power to do that very thing. It would not be such a bad idea,” he continued, “it certainly would be a great deal better than to have the United States a great stock farm, breeding mongrels-which is what we are doing now.” – John H. Kellogg

Very important Americans supported this idea, from Roosevelt, Carnegie, the Rockefellers and the Kellogg family:

“Society has no business to permit degenerates to reproduce their kind…. Some day we will realize that the prime duty, the inescapable duty of the good citizen of the right type is to leave his blood behind him in the world, and that we have no business to perpetuate citizens of the wrong type” (1913- Roosevelt, Theodore)

Now, this is where it gets particularly interesting…

Apparently, Kellogg was a big anti-sex/anti-masturbation activist. You’ll find that he was actually on such a far end of the spectrum that he didn’t have sexual intercourse with his wife even once in their 40 years of marriage (he worked on his book “Plain Facts” on their honeymoon). It would make sense that a self-proclaimed eugenicist would want to limit the reproductive capabilities of the ‘degenerate’ population who consume the highly processed GM foodstuffs in cartoonised cardboard boxes?[ See Porn Flakes Kellogg, Graham and the Crusade for Moral Fiber]

He said (in Plain Facts):

“A plain and healthy diet, with only two meals a day, among other things, would reduce sexual feelings”

So clearly John Kellogg thought there’s link between a person’s diet and his sexual desires. Could the eugenics ideology of today’s global elite NWO have infiltrated our breakfast options by design?

Anyway, don’t let me put you off your cereal. Chew away. But please check the ingredients in “Special K” before you swallow too much…

[Me? I had fruit toast this morning. If you are interested.]

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0111001/

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Harvey_Kellogg

http://www.usatoday.com/money/industries/food/2009-11-02-cereal-immunity-claim_N.htm

http://www.bakeryandsnacks.com/The-Big-Picture/Swine-flu-prompts-Kellogg-to-quit-Rice-Krispies-immunity-claims

http://www.xomba.com/cocoa_krispies_fights_swine_flu_kellogg_claims_cereal_helps_immune_system

http://www.amazon.com/Plain-Facts-Young-Harvey-Kellogg/dp/0554368749

http://www.brightlightsfilm.com/38/wellville1.htm

http://www.nndb.com/people/018/000133616/

http://en.allexperts.com/e/j/jo/john_harvey_kellogg.htm

http://infowars.com.au

http://truthmovementaustralia.com.au

http://www.prisonplanet.tv

Louis BEAM

Though I never knew them, though they died months before I was born, I can not help but to still feel the pain of those innocent people of Dresden [Germany] who suffered so unjustly, unfairly, and totally without fault February 13, 1945.

They make me think of abused children suffering for something that they do not understand. Abused children in a small way share with those now departed souls of Dresden the total unjustness of this world. Innocent people would not in a fair world, a decent world, be made to suffer.

They died this night. So many of them. Bombs raining down upon their heads like manna from hell -the heads of defenseless women and children for the most part. Babies in their cribs. Sobbing children in their mothers arms. Little girls without blemish, little boys full of anticipation at the excitement life promised them. The girls became blemished heaps of burnt flesh. The promise was broken by life to the boys. There would be no future for them.

Even now, across time, distance, culture, language, and ocean, I hear their cries. Ten thousand per second raising their helpless, tortured voices for mercy. No mercy. No relief. Only painful death from planes with United States written on them.

Why did my father’s generation do this? How could they kill all these people – then not know about it?

My father a decorated, battle field commissioned, combat hardened infantry veteran of Roosevelt’s army, told me as I lay at his feet as a small child listening that “Hitler was bad but the German people were good.” The Germans were “very smart” they just had a bad leader he said. He was proud of his role as a soldier in defeating Germany. And if soldiers are without responsibilities for their role in history then he had more right then many to be proud of his many decorations.

Then in 1984 after discovering the horrible truth about Dresden I spoke to my father about it. I told him more people were killed there in a single night of fire and bombing then in England during the entire war. He said “that is a lie.” He refused to believe me. I stressed to him that they were innocent people. He became angry with me. I asked him why they were killed. His anger boiled over and he said I was believing Nazi propaganda. I said to him “there are no Nazi’s daddy you killed them all, there are only people who study history” while pulling an Encyclopedia Americana from the shelf. The encyclopedia while only admitting to a numerical fraction of the dead at Dresden was yet sufficient to exceed England’s total bombing dead.

“These were refugees fleeing the communists” I said, becoming angry myself. “Why did Roosevelt order it done?” I demanded of him.

He read it and became silent. He read it again while running his fingers along the words carefully touching the numbers as if to make sure they were there and real. It then dawned on me. He did not know! He had lived through this time and because of a constant flood of propaganda from America’s news media this horrible war crime and others like it had been kept from him.

I could see this troubled him, for it was from him that I acquired the proclivity of taking up the fight for the down trodden, those abused unfairly. He was a kind man and would have never knowingly participated in such cruelty. I left for home then feeling sorry for Dad. I left him to think in peace. My anger at his being a part of those who did this horrible thing abated.

I swear I will not forget the crime against innocent people at Dresden. I will not forget who is responsible. I will not forget! I am but one small life. One dim light in a world covered with the darkness of cruel machinations by evil men. But this little light of mine, I will let it shine! For only by doing so do I serve my reason for existence, for life, for eternity.

I read as a young person that “all that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing.” Those words became a part of my soul, my life. Love is put to the test when one takes on the suffering of others – when one becomes a voice against evil for those who have none, a target of abuse for doing nothing but standing for justice.

There is no reward save knowing you have done that which is right. And there is hope. Hope that others will make the light that truth is a part of their life, their existence, so that together we become a bright ray for the future. A light unto the feet of all our fellow men who stumble.

In distant Dresden park they lie in their graves now. Rest my unknown friends, you downtrodden and despised of this world. Though we could not speak the same language if we stood before each other, though I never knew your names, and while your faces I can only imagine, you are my departed loved ones. My heart beats for yours. My mind remembers for yours. My tears for yours…

ALSO READ:

Dresden’s 14 Hours Of Hell

Luftwaffe Pilot Spared B-17 Pilot’s Life

The Unknown GERMAN Holocaust

Some Forgotten Post-War History

Eisenhower’s Death Camps

Pawns In The Game

Wars By Design

J’ai toujours aimé Michael Moore, surtout avant de voir ses films. Il faut parfois savoir apprécier le « buzz » (quel affreux terme, au passage !) qui court autour du film avant même de se rendre dans les salles obscure pour jauger la valeur dudit « buzz » et juger la qualité dudit film. Car Moore, ce n’est une surprise pour personne, se traîne derrière lui une réputation bien gratinée, aussi bruyante qu’une armada de casseroles en téflon usagées, qui lui ouvre une quantité de cœurs et lui ferme une aussi importante quantité de portes. C’est qu’il a tendance à titiller un peu trop les puissants, les technocrates, les nantis, les démagos, les arrivistes, les carriéristes, enfin tous ceux qui font le système (cette « bête sauvage » dont parlait Nixon) et ceux qui en profitent en jurant leurs grands dieux qu’ils ne font rien de mal ; c’est qu’il aime particulièrement, le Moore, aller caresser la barbichette des décideurs, des législateurs, des hauts responsables, des élites, bref des politiques, afin de les confronter à ces aberrations qu’ils ont concouru à créer – ne serait-ce que du fait de leur inaction chronique. Même ceux qui n’ont pas vu Fahrenheit 9/11, à savoir les aveugles, les lapons et les manchots du pôle sud, se « souviennent » d’un gros bonhomme chaussé de lunettes et de casquette allant ennuyer ces messieurs-dames les représentants du Congrès, à Washington, histoire de leur proposer d’envoyer leurs propres rejetons en Irak pour faire la guerre aux vilains. Enfin, nuance : allant ennuyer ces représentants qui votèrent en faveur de l’invasion. Si Moore possède bien une qualité, c’est de savoir comment désigner du doigt les coupables, et il ne se gêne nullement pour cela. Une fois désignés, la curée commence.

Ces « victimes » montrées du doigt par le pamphlétaire le plus célèbre et le plus admiré de l’industrie du cinéma sont aisées à reconnaître puisqu’elles font partie du titre. Car le capitalisme est l’affaire des capitalistes, et potentiellement un cas de conscience pour une majorité des êtres humains qui foulent le sol de cette terre. Nous sommes donc tous concernés. Même le chaland qui subit les foudres de l’inexorable profit ; oui, même cet agriculteur, trapu et bonhomme, aussi beauf que savent l’être les Américains de la campagne, qui prépare tristement son déménagement après avoir reçu sa notification d’expulsion. Sa ferme, l’achat d’une vie, vient d’être rachetée par d’autres Américains qui en ont les moyens, et qui n’auront sans doute pas à débourser toujours plus afin de rembourser un prêt à taux expansif. Déménager pour où ? La question se pose d’autant moins qu’elle ne souffre aucune réponse. Le voilà, l’ami « capitalisme » : c’est l’ange monétaire qui descend du dernier étage des Goldman Sachs, Bank of America et autres pour vous offrir le seul ciel étoilé comme toit de maison. Et de cela, l’agriculteur un peu bourru est tout autant responsable que les puissants : parce que, d’une certaine manière, il a laissé faire le système. Comme nous tous. C’est sur cette position que campe un Moore légèrement désabusé, indubitablement fatigué par ses années de pérégrinations idéologiques depuis Roger et moi. Avec l’impression que rien n’a changé.

A sa façon, Moore ressemble à notre hexagonal postier Olivier Besancenot, le talent pour le montage en plus. Lui aussi pourfend sans égards le système tel qu’il s’est installé et pérennisé ; lui aussi monte à l’assaut de ces puissants qui sont autant de châteaux forts à prendre par les armes ; lui aussi souligne avec raison – et un chouia d’idéalisme – les aberrations de notre économie mondialisée. Et lui non plus ne propose in fine aucune solution valable de rechange. En même temps, la différence c’est que Besancenot est un politicien dont le rôle est d’agir, tandis que Moore n’est qu’un pamphlétaire hyperdoué dont les prérogatives se résument à étaler et faire connaître les scories systémiques. Chacun à sa place. Il me semble néanmoins qu’un Moore, pour ces mêmes raisons, aura toujours plus d’impact que tous les Besancenot du monde : parce qu’il cherche moins à convaincre (votez pour moi) qu’à persuader (accompagnez-moi dans le projet d’un changement profond des mentalités). Le champ d’action du cinéaste s’arrête à la porte des institutions et des bastions de la finance ; en attendant, il aura tracé le chemin pour des politiques plus avisés et, surtout, plus réalistes que celles des anti-tout.

Car Moore, et ce n’est pas la moindre de ses qualités ici, nous donne à voir une chose étonnante, en fin de film, une chose bien plus juste que tous ces exemples de dérives capitalistes livrés les uns à la suite des autres comme on enfile des perles (qui a-t-il besoin de convaincre, d’ailleurs, de l’iniquité des traitements infligés à une population qui souffre quotidiennement dans le « pays de la liberté » ?) ; cette chose, c’est la capacité du politique à dépasser l’institutionnel – les clivages idéologiques, les disparités sociales, les pressions lobbyistes – pour puiser sa force dans une inspiration humaine. Il est incroyable de voir ces images de représentant(e)s du Congrès qui harangue leurs collègues et, par-delà les murs, leurs électeurs, afin de les pousser à la révolte ; il y a de l’émotion dans cette façon qu’a le procureur de Chicago d’intimer l’ordre à ses concitoyens de ne pas quitter leur maison lorsque le représentant de la banque vient les expulser. Le rôle du politique n’est-il pas de protéger ses ouailles, tel un messie civil ? Et qui pourrait contredire l’idée que l’on est mieux protégé entre quatre murs et sous un toit ? Logiquement, presque naturellement, Moore change alors d’époque et nous emmène au temps de Franklin Roosevelt, quand le plus grand des immenses présidents américains (exit Lincoln et Kennedy) envoyait l’armée non pour déloger les manifestants dans les usines, mais pour les protéger. Situation rocambolesque ? Certes, mais qui dans un monde idéal ne devrait être qu’une norme. Difficile de dire si le propos de Moore peut être ici compris comme une légitimation de Barack Obama (dont l’espoir diffus se propage dans les allées filmiques de ce Capitalism), que le cinéaste a eu largement le temps de reconsidérer politiquement depuis la réalisation de son film. Toutefois, il est clair que le nouveau président américain suscite l’enthousiasme de l’originalité chez les hommes et les femmes qui ont subi, un moment ou un autre, les foudres du système.

Gare, pourtant, à la tentation de placer Moore sur un piédestal ! Toutes les qualités de son dernier opus (qui n’a que médiocrement marché aux USA malgré un lancement savamment orchestré par Paramount), depuis l’audace physique du cinéaste, qui n’hésite pas à aller en personne taquiner les agents de surveillance des banques afin de réclamer l’argent versé par les contribuables via le plan Paulson, jusqu’à l’excellente pédagogie visuelle qui fait de toute œuvre de Moore un objet à la fois passionnant et ludique, ne peuvent pas éternellement dissimuler ses défauts. Ces défauts sont connus, ils sont récurrents depuis les débuts de sa carrière ; d’une part, le fait que Moore utilise à sa convenance les mêmes armes que ses ennemis (la propagande), d’autre part ce risque constant de la simplification abusive que personne, même doté de la meilleure foi possible, ne peut complètement éviter. En réalité, l’importance de ces défauts varie selon les yeux qui les regardent et les oreilles qui les entendent. Je veux croire que le public possède cette vivacité d’esprit suffisante pour prendre une certaine distance vis-à-vis des images. Mais pour des spectateurs dénués de tout sens critique, le danger est grand de prendre pour argent ( ! ) comptant les propos du cinéaste, parmi ceux qui frôlent au plus près le révisionnisme. Il arrive parfois que les arguments du cinéaste flirtent avec l’exagération stupide d’un Thierry Meyssan, tout occupé à créer de toutes pièces sa future théorie du complot. Différence essentielle tout de même : dans tous les cas Moore a parfaitement conscience de cette tentation à franchir la limite, ce que les conspirationnistes n’imaginent même pas.

Plus qu’un film sur la conspiration, plus qu’un film révolutionnaire (l’appel final résonne comme un cor de chasse destiné à tous les guévaristes convaincus), Capitalism est pour Moore un exutoire autobiographique. On aurait pu penser que le bonhomme de Roger et moi cesserait rapidement d’importuner le spectateur en se présentant devant la caméra et en allant enquiquiner les passants. Pourtant, le cinéaste a continué à se mettre en scène, et plus encore, à mettre en scène sa ville natale, Flint, dans le Michigan, réceptacle de toutes les dérives du système américain (on la retrouve dans une majorité de ses documentaires, y compris Bowling For Columbine). Il y retourne encore une fois pour quelques scènes parmi les plus émouvantes de sa carrière, particulièrement ce passage où, observant le terrain vague que fut autrefois l’usine automobile où il travailla toute sa vie, le propre père de Michael Moore ressasse la nostalgie d’une époque meilleure. Moore ne s’est jamais autant impliqué personnellement dans son projet de mise en scène, allant jusqu’à montrer des images de son enfance heureuse. Un brin d’égocentrisme ? Dans ce cas précis, le terme exact est plutôt : humanisme.

Eric Nuevo

> Film sorti en salles le 25 novembre 2009

> Lire aussi : notre dossier sur la politique catastrophique de G. W. Bush vue par Moore dans VERSUS n° 14, notre dossier sur la crise financière et le milieu (mafieux !) bancaire dans VERSUS n° 15, et notre dossier sur les world companies dans VERSUS n° 17, actuellement disponible

Franklin D Roosevelt once said “we have nothing to fear but fear itself”. Fear is an insidious and unseen force, causing restless nights and robbing us of our peace.

To fear is to be afraid or feel anxious or apprehensive about a possible or probable situation or event. It’s a form of dread or anxiety which is always ‘of the future’ and exists solely in thought and imagination.

Fear is after our faith. It wants us to place our faith in it and not in the promises of God.

Oswald Chambers wrote “all our fret and worry is caused by calculating without God”

So the best solution is to make sure that God is part of the picture – placing Him in the centre of the situation. Involving Him in what is worrying or concerning you.

“God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in him. There is no fear in love.” 1 John 4:16-18

There is no greater protection afforded you than to live in God’s love. It is here that you are hidden and inaccessible to the enemy. Perfect love and fear cannot abide together.

So press into God and see your fears flee!

Philippians 4:6
Do not be anxious about ANYTHING, but in EVERYTHING, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Thursday, November 19, 2009
FDR’s Martini

This seemed like an appropriate cocktail after my Martin Sheen/West Wing analogy of the other day, except with a real President this time. I confess, prior to looking up how FDR and Teddy were related, I had no idea that Eleanor and Franklin were already both Roosevelts prior to marrying (they were, apparently, fifth cousins).  Teddy was actually Eleanor’s uncle.  I have absolutely no idea what that makes him to FDR.  Makes me think of the dialogue between Dark Helmet and Lone Starr in “Spaceballs”:

FDR and Teddy Roosevelt meet in another dimension

Dark Helmet:  I am your father’s brother’s nephew’s cousin’s former roommate.
Lone Starr:  What does that make us?
Dark Helmet:  Absolutely nothing!  Which is what you are about to become.

In The Martini Book, there is a quote above this recipe, which reads:  “FDR was a serious martini drinker [I like the guy already] and carried a martini ‘kit’ with him whever he traveled.  During the Teheran conference, he insisted on mixing one of his specialties for Joseph Stalin.  Stalin found it ‘cold on the stomach,’ but liked it.  FDR’s martini was most likely the first ‘Dirty Martini’.”

Definitely like the guy.  Although his Dirty Martini is kind of wussy as far as dirty martinis go.  2 parts gin, 1 part vermouth, 1 teaspoon olive brine, lemon twist, and a cocktail olive.  But as I’ve noted earlier, more vermouth to gin is okay with me when it’s gin.  When it’s vodka, not so much.  Me, I prefer a vodka dirty martini and I like it very dirty, as you’ve probably figured out by now, and very dry.  But I’m not FDR, and we’re talking a good … yikes, what, 70-80 years ago?  Oh dear.  Anyway, this was educational for me, reading up on FDR and his infidelities (ditto with Eleanor and hers, some of them with the same gender, but not until after he committed his).  I had no idea.  Alas, my high school history education ended somewhere between the Revolutionary War and the Civil War.  Why?  Because I was taking Chemistry II, which met at the same time that the “gifted” history class met, so I ended up in the so-called bonehead history class for my senior year.  After the first quarter/semester (whichever it was – we’re going back waaaaay too far for me to remember which), my history teacher realized that everyone in the class was going out of their way to copy off my paper/tests and that I was throwing the curve way off.  So he gave me a “research” assignment to find all of the CIF championship victories for my high school dating back to something like 1898 when the school was established, which I did, to the best of my ability, given the fact that there was no internet in that day and age (1980).  That encompassed the 2nd half of my senior year and thus took the place of learning about anything beyond the early 1800’s.  I’m not sure why I know about WWI and WWII and various other things, I must have learned that in junior high on a more peripheral level and remembered it.  But I never got to learn about Teddy or FDR or Eleanor.  Or martinis.  Not that martinis would have been appropriate subject matter back in my high school day.  Now?  No idea.  But you gotta like FDR for the fact that he carried around the fixings with him.

As for the namesake drink itself – I give it a “DNS” rating.  Which stands for “Does Not Suck”.  Not quite a 4 stars but definitely a 3.75 stars.  As I mentioned before, I think I like the higher proportions of vermouth when gin is invovled but not vodka.  The lemon twist (rubbed around the rim of a chilled cocktail glass before serving, then discarded) and the olive are a nice touch.  I liked this one more than I expected I would and give FDR credit, assuming credit is due, for coming up with a good one.

Cheers,
Cathy

Demi recently uploaded a video from her birthday celebration that took place in the famous Roosevelt Hotel in Hollywood, California. Enjoy.

As caras da Roosevelt

A praça que nunca dorme é feita por uma gente que brilha nos palcos e nas calçadas

A Praça Roosevelt, Lucidete Jesus de Souza, 26 anos, a famosa Baiana das Trufas, vende seu produto como se apresentasse um número de stand-up comedy. “Vim pra São Paulo sonhando em ser comissária de bordo, mas virei ‘aerobaiana’. Tentei trabalhar como doméstica para juntar um dinheiro e fazer o curso. Não deu. Mas sou feliz e tenho sucesso aqui na Roosevelt. O povo do teatro é uma ótima clientela – e meu monólogo de venda é em português, inglês e mandarim”, avisa.

Na Praça Roosevelt, um ex-lutador de jiu-jítsu, Francisco Souza, 40 anos, dedica-se à delicada arte de construir peças em mosaico. “Cansei da luta e do esporte, a arte começou como um passatempo e foi tomando conta da minha vida”, fala. O fortão, que há 10 anos tem um ateliê na Roosevelt, diz que a praça trouxe diversidade para o seu trabalho.

Na Praça Roosevelt, Esdras Vassalo, 76 anos, conhecido nos meios boêmios como Doca, mantém vivo um espaço emblemático para a música brasileira. Nos anos 60, o bar que hoje se chama Papo, Pinga e Petisco, era o lendário Djalma’s. Lá, no dia 5 de agosto de 1964, Elis Regina se apresentava pela primeira vez em São Paulo. “Muito fã da Elis vem aqui. Já vi muita gente emocionada.”

Na Praça Roosevelt, o ator Hugo Possolo, 47 anos, o criador do grupo Parlapatões, prepara um auto de Natal interpretado por palhaços e, para encerrar o ano teatral, uma ‘Missa do Galho’. “Vai ser uma missa pagã, uma tradição que vem da Idade Média. A Praça Roosevelt é perfeita pra esse tipo de encenação”, comenta.

Na Praça Roosevelt, um dos diretores dos Satyros, Diogo Viana, 24 anos, fala dos anos em que o grupo está sediado por lá. “No começo, aqui era um depósito de lixo. Os traficantes de droga viviam ameaçando a gente. Hoje, a Roosevelt virou um espaço para o teatro underground. Um teatro veloz, onde tudo pode acontecer.”

Na Praça Roosevelt, o diretor e ator Kleber Montanheiro montou o seu Mini Teatro. “Aqui é um espaço para pesquisa de linguagem. Coisa difícil de fazer em espaços mais comerciais. O público da Roosevelt é aberto ao risco”, diz.

Na Praça Roosevelt, Gualberto e Dani não correm mais risco algum. O casal é proprietário da bem sucedida HQ Mix, livraria especializada em quadrinhos. “Estamos na Roosevelt há dois anos, viramos referência”, fala Gual. Já o cozinheiro Carlão Busca Vida vai correr todos os riscos pilotando a cozinha do primeiro restaurante da Roosevelt, o Rose Velt (que abre na próxima terça). “Vai ser uma aposta no futuro da praça e nos seus frequentadores”, diz.

Buy Cheap The Big Burn: Teddy Roosevelt and the Fire that Saved America

Buy Low Price From Here Now
On the afternoon of August 20, 1910, a battering ram of wind moved through the drought-stricken national forests of Washington, Idaho, and Montana, whipping the hundreds of small blazes burning across the forest floor into a roaring inferno that jumped from treetop to ridge as it raged, destroying towns and timber in the blink of an eye. Forest rangers had assembled nearly ten thousand men  —  college boys, day workers, immigrants from mining camps  —  to fight the fire. But no living person had seen anything like those flames, and neither the rangers nor anyone else knew how to subdue them.

Egan narrates the struggles of the overmatched rangers against the implacable fire with unstoppable dramatic force. Equally dramatic is the larger story he tells of outsized president Teddy Roosevelt and his chief forester, Gifford Pinchot. Pioneering the notion of conservation, Roosevelt and Pinchot did nothing less than create the idea of public land as our national treasure, owned by and preserved for every citizen. The robber barons fought Roosevelt and Pinchot’s rangers, but the Big Burn saved the forests even as it destroyed them: the heroism shown by the rangers turned public opinion permanently in their favor and became the creation myth that drove the Forest Service, with consequences still felt in the way our national lands are protected  —  or not —  today……..
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 “Enjoy, but beware” 2009-11-19
By Yalensian
Timothy Egan is a talented writer, and his book doesn’t lack drama or excitement. THE BIG BURN grippingly recounts the events surrounding the Great Fire of 1910, including the response of the federal government through Theodore Roosevelt and Gifford Pinchot, and it offers an interesting snapshot of American life in the early twentieth century. All in all, it’s a great story, nicely told. But . . . as a work of historical scholarship, the book has the weaknesses typical of “popular history.” There is a good bit of supposing and psychologizing, of quotations that sound oddly modern. While Egan includes some citations at the back, the text is not footnoted, so it’s difficult to trace the provenance of any particular piece of information, let alone the quotes.

I wouldn’t necessarily recommend against reading the book because of these flaws. I would just say to read it primarily for pleasure and avoid taking every last detail as historical fact (which is probably good advice for reading almost any work of history).

 “A fascinating story about one of our lesser known disasters” 2009-11-18
By R. C Sheehy (Foxboro,MA USA)
The Big Burn is a fascinating story of one of our lesser known disasters. While forest fires are big news now and we see the dramatic footage of planes and fire crews working to contain the fires, none of that was around in 1910 when this fire took place. The damage done was tremendous and the victory was in some senses a Pyrrhic one. Timothy Egan does a wonderful job of setting the stage for this terrible event, describing it in graphic detail and then following up with the reader.

Egan does a great job of telling us how the policy adopted after the fire did help to save our national forests but the idea of fighting every fire caused terrible fires in the 1980’s up to today. He offers a simple and compelling story that makes the book a page turner and one easy to understand. My only concern is that he pushes the stories of the survivors at the expense of those who perished and I do think that weakens his story. Other than that I highly recommend this story.

 “Nowhere near as good as expected” 2009-11-04
By E. Jacobs
I read a magazine review about this book that praised it to the skies. Unfortunately, it was nowhere near my expectations after reading that review. The book covered an amazingly interesting era in American history–the Roosevelt years. However, in my opinion the book was a little bit too one-sided regarding Roosevelt himself (and I am an admirer of his). All of the writing related to Roosevelt seemed very one-dimensional. I get it: Roosevelt was good, Taft was bad.

Moving on, the description of the fire was repetitive and at times confusing. The story of the fire was told from several different locations in the forest(s), but unfortunately the characters that were supposed to demarcate the stories were not compelling enough for me to differentiate between the forest locations or even the characters themselves. Therefore, the scenes from the fire seemed to drag on far too long. I believe that if an editor would’ve cut about 100 pages from this book it would have been eminently more readable.

I give it three stars because it does deliver useful information about the beginnings of the forest service; however, I was not impressed with the story-telling at all. With all of the luminous and eccentric characters of the time, the book had the potential to be far more compelling than it was.

 “Not Convincing at all” 2009-10-29
By Alan Tidwell (Washington, DC)
I just heard an interview Egan, which left me less than likely to read this book. While it at first sounded interesting, the more the author spoke, the less interested I was. He claimed the fire in 1910 had a huge and negative impact on the US Forestry Service. When pressed by the interviewer he couldn’t really come up with anything concrete. This sounded very much like wanting to make something that wasn’t there. No doubt the 1910 had a huge impact on the Forestry Service, but I doubt a negative one. Furthermore he kept claiming that Roosevelt had initiated this conversion of public land into Federally owned forest land, making the assertion that it was unowned. Not to belabor the point, but it had been owned by various American Indian tribes, whose possession of the land had been eradicated by the US government. In fact, the author kept up the ongoing American love affair with Roosevelt, who would today be called a supporter of genocide. It was, after all, Roosevelt who said that the American Indian should be wiped out and that their lands all converted into national parks. The final nail in the coffin was that while recounting the conversion of land into Federal land he tried to recall the date of the Louisiana Purchase, completed in 1803, and couldn’t do it. What all this says to me that he has probably not done his homework and written an engaging book that involves Roosevelt (always good for book sales) but doesn’t really have much of a story to tell.

 “Warm but not hot enough” 2009-10-19
By Harry Eagar (Maui)
The Station fire that got so much attention this summer took two weeks to burn about 200,000 acres. The “Big Burn” in 1910 wiped out 3 million acres in two days – about 100 times more intense.

If only Timothy Egan’s retelling matched the event.

The 1910 fire wasn’t especially deadly. The Triangle Shirtwaist factory fire in Manhattan less than six months later killed more people. But both had lasting political effects.

The factory fire gave a boost to the union movement. The Big Burn, according to Egan, saved the Forest Service and, in a more profound sense, ratified a new view by Americans of their national endowment.

The first half of “The Big Burn” is slow going. It tells how Teddy Roosevelt, an accidental president if there ever was one, imposed, briefly, his notions of conservation on a Republican Party that before and since has been devoted to looting the public lands.

Egan’s retelling is impressionistic rather than precise, with saints (John Muir, the publicist), sinners (Senator Weldon Heyburn, the lumber operator) and prophets in the wilderness (Gifford Pinchot, first head of the Forest Service). Interesting personalities all, but they are more caricatures than real people in Egan’s retelling, especially the villains.

The story demands to be set in a national frame – there was a lot more to Teddy’s Progressivism than trees – but Egan fails to do that. He does not, for example, mention the Triangle Shirtwaist fire.

His history of the fire itself is more satisfying although, again, Egan sets it in a small frame.

The fire raged through the Bitterroots of Idaho, but it also devastated other states and part of Canada. Egan limits himself to one valley – which he fails to describe thoroughly – and a handful of personalities.

Again, we have a saint (Ed Pulaski, whose name is attached to the firefighters’ tool), a sinner (Ralph Debitt, a cowardly ranger) and a prophet (Bill Weigle, a Forest Service supervisor). These characters are more sympathetic to Egan and seem more real, less stand-ins for political movements.

There are plenty of other arresting players, too: a regiment of black cavalrymen, a pair of immigrants from Italy, a football star turned ranger. As far as it goes, this is a good story. Egan just doesn’t carry it far enough.

“The Big Burn” is worth reading anyway, although the reader will have to supply some of his own facts to flesh it out – like the ascendancy of James Watt under the presidency of Ronald Reagan, contradicting Egan’s blithe romance about how the fire taught America to reverence its natural inheritance.

The treatment by the government of the men who served it was shameful and is worth knowing about. Egan does treat this aspect of the story adequately.

In fact, there is a lot more about the Big Burn worth knowing than Egan puts into this interesting but superficial history.

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Here we have ol’ Orrie firing on all pistons, at the top of his A-game.  While the usual elements are here — the heel juggling three dames, salesmanship and making money — the premise is not only unlike any other Hitt novel, but pretty damn unique. It’s not a sex or sleaze novel, not a crime novel…a con man novel?  A novel about a heel, about jealousy and revenge?

Danny Fulton heads up what is a borderline scam…they do offer a service, he and his team are not up-and-up about it and what kind of profit they actually make.  The game is the seedy side of publishing — offering up slapped-together books that cover the history of small towns or the police and fire departments in various towns, to be used as fund-raising means.  Danny and his cohorts play on the egos of people, their sense of place in history, and the notion that the “profits” will be used for charitable means, either for the fire department, the city’s social services, or churches.

This is what they do: they get an organization, such as the fire or police departments or a 4-H club or anything, really, to put up initial funds to get the book started.  Then Danny sells “ads” for the book for more income.  The people think he’s hard at work researching the history and doing a good academic job at it, but really he has one of his women — Madeline — in the town library, pulling out two decades old manuscripts commissioned through Roosevelt’s New Deal Work Project Administration, the Federal Writer’s Project.  That project, during the Depression, was designed to provide work for writers and academics during the Great Depression.

Established July 27, 1935 by President Franklin Delano Roosevelt, the Federal Writers’ Project (FWP) operated under journalist and theatrical producer Henry Alsberg, and later John D. Newsome, compiling local histories, oral histories, ethnographies, children’s books and other works. The most well-known of these publications were the 48 state guides to America (plus Alaska Territory, Puerto Rico and Washington, D.C.) known as the American Guide Series. The American Guide Series books were compiled by the FWP, but printed by individual states, and contained detailed histories of each state with descriptions of every city and town. The format was uniform, comprising essays on the state’s history and culture, descriptions of its major cities, automobile tours of important attractions, and a portfolio of photographs. The Federal Writers Project was funded and put to work, as a Public Works in and around the west coast, through Washington, Oregon and California.

FWP was charged with employing writers, editors, historians, researchers, art critics, archaeologists, geologists and cartographers. Some 6,600 individuals were employed by the FWP. In each state a Writer’s Project non-relief staff of editors was formed, along with a much larger group of field workers drawn from local unemployment rolls. Many of these had never graduated high school, but most had formerly held white collar jobs of some sort. Most of the Writer’s Project employees were relatively young in age, and many came from working-class backgrounds.

Basically what Danny and Madeline do is re-type the manuscripts they find through the local project archives, send them to a printer to reduce the type and print off 1500-2000 copies of the book, which they hand over to the benefactor organization to sell for $2.00, making around a fifty cent-to-one dollar profit.

What they don’t know is the actual price of the printing — Danny has jacked it up so he has a profit — and that Danny prints a thousand or more copies than told.  Before the organizations can go out and sell their copies, Danny and his crew quickly hits the streets or phones and sell the books to the town citizens and take off with what they make — maybe a few grand, but that went a long way in the 1950s.  Thus, when the organizations try to sell their copies, they’ll have a hard time because a lot of people already have the book…

A very strange and original con, indeed, and makes one wonder if Hitt was involved in something like that. Such a con is not the sort of thing a writer makes up out of the blue; and since Hitt always writes about rackets he had personal experience in (resort hotels, insurance, door to door sales, radio advertising), this one sounds like a playbook out of Orrie’s past work history.

The novel opens with Danny and crew wrapping up their latest con in Waverly, NY (a town that shows up in various Hitt stories, like Affair with Lucy) and deciding he’s going to get out of the game.  He’s made good money and thinks he’ll head for sunny pastures, Florida or California, and find some other racket.

He also knows it’s only a matter of time before word gets around New York State how he has conned people, and no one will fall for it again, or he might even get arrested for fraud and tax evasion.

But his scouter has secured a huge job — the history of Port Jessup, NY, funding through all churches there for their benefit.  Port Jessup is no small town, has half a million, so they could possibly sell 10,000 copies and make a mint. One problem: Port Jessup is Danny’s hometown where he pulled his first book con with the police department, with a woman he had an affair with, Gloria.  When Gloria went on a trip to see a dying aunt, Danny skipped out on her.

It’s tricky, but Danny can’t pass up this last job that is sure to give him a nice nest egg to take off.  Gloria is married with a child now, too.

The third woman is Sally, a wealthy red-head who is steering the churches for this project.  She has heard a few rumors about Danny and his game, but goes along with it — right there, we have to wonder if Sally isn’t running her own con.  The question arises: who is the pushover?  Danny’s suckers, his women, or him?

James Reasoner, last March, reviewed Pushover at his blog and makes a few keen observations:

Hitt does a remarkable job of capturing the grubby desperation of these people, especially Danny and his two partners, one a young, beautiful blonde who’s separated from her husband, the other an advance man and salesman who misses his wife and family. All of them seem to be teetering on an emotional brink, and so do most of the people they encounter.

This is certainly true for many Hitt novels, especially the ones that deal with fast-talk salesmanship, people living day-by-day from the money they make that day (e.g., Diploma Dolls, Shabby Street, Two of a Kind, The Cheaters, Bad Wife, etc.); the same is true for Hitt’s books about young women falling into the sex trade (Three Strange Women, Sin Doll, Burlesque Girl, Run for Cover, etc.): everyone is desperate to fight off poverty and starvation, as they seek out love, family, and meaning in their often meaningless life.

And that’s what we get from Danny here: his life has to meaning, purpose. He’s tired of the con, tired of sleeping with women he doesn’t love but makes them think he does.  Sure enough, he’s a goddamn heel, and he hates it.  Reasoner mentions that whenever Danny does something good for someone, he’s surprised himself at how of character that is for Danny Fulton, selfish money grubber crook.

Reasoner also notes that the novel has little action, which is also true for many Hitt books.  For instance, in Add Flesh t the Fire, the story centers on gun running to Cuba, but we never see the actual gun running or Cuba, it’s only talked about or “happened last night.”  Hitt focuses on dialogue and relationships — real people, essentially.

Danny’s womanizing backfires on him…first, Gloria confesses to him that her child is his, and she made a deal with a man to be her husband so she would not be shamed.  But that’s not the case at all.  And then he convinces Madeline that they have a future — her husband is back from his Navy tour in Korea and wants her to move to San Diego with him, where he’s based.  But she asks for a divorce to be with Danny; only, Danny wants her to stay to finish the book project — he needs her more than he can admit: while everyone thinks he’s the writer of these books, she’s the one who does all the research and typing, formatting copy for the printer on a high-end IBM typewriter that justifies right margins.

But Danny has a fling with Sandy, and she professes love, and he is surprised to discover that he’s in love with her, and not because she’s worth half a million.  They plan a marriage after the book comes out.  When Madeline finds out, of course she feels betrayed.

The blow up ending is obvious but Danny is too much a conceited fool to see that his betrayal has infused a need for revenge in Madeline, to destroy him and his wedding to a rich lady…

The ending is a little strange…he winds up with the woman you don’t think he will, as Hitt heroes do.  It almost seems anti-climatic.  But it is different, like the whole book, from other Hitts.

On the Hitt scale, this is a 9.

When I check what terms people put into search engines to find my blog, the one that usually is on top is “USS Ronald Reagan”… so by popular demand, here are the lowdown on this ship!
(Who says I’m not service minded?)

USS Ronald Reagan is the 9th Nimitz-class nuclear powered aircraft carrier. The class is the largest type of capital ship in the world. She was commissioned into the US Navy in July 2003, and was the first ship in the US Navys history to be named after a still living American President. Sadly, his illness meant he could not participate as a guest of honour at her launch. Her motto is “Peace through Strength” and she is today posted in the Pacific fleet, with a home port of San Diego, California.

USS Ronald Reagan in the Mangellan Straits

Her force of 90 aircraft comes from Carrier Air Wing Fourteen, from Naval Air Station Lemoore, CA with bearing tail code NK, one of 10 active Carrier Air Wings, and at the Time of writing her carrier group is deployed in support of Operation Enduring Freedom in Afghanistan, as part of 5th Fleet.

Now the concept of the supercarrier is singular to the US. Each of the 10 massive ships carry the equivalent of the 5th largest airforce in the world. (The ships being: USS Enterprise, USS Abraham Lincoln, USS Harry S. Truman, USS George Washington, USS Dwight D. Eisenhower, USS George H.W. Bush, USS Nimitz, USS John C. Stennis, USS Carl Vinson and USS Ronald Reagan.) Now just the mere presence of one of these ships in an area tend to cool down any would-be despot with delusions of grandeur.

There is said that the first ting any US presidents do when there is a disaster, attack on Americans, diplomatic conflict or any other crisis is to ask “Where are my carriers?”. And who can blame him? Even though the US still keeps a massive naval strength in mothballs “just in case” the main gun of the US military might is the carrier groups. And it is not just in recent years. When the Japanese launched their attack on Pearl Harbour in December 1941 they did a massive amount of damage. With the US caught flat footed they sank four U.S. Navy battleships (two of which were raised and returned to service later in the war) and damaged four more. The Japanese also sank or damaged three cruisers, three destroyers, and one minelayer, destroyed 188 aircraft, and caused personnel losses of 2,402 killed and 1,282 wounded. All for the loss of 29 airdraft, some midgets subs and 59 men all told. A resounding blow, right. Notice anything…? Yeah, no carriers. Someone in the US Navy had smelled a rat brewing (to mix idioms) and sent the carrier groups out.

That combined with the fact that the japanese never launched the third wave to destroy the dry docks and support facilities, meant that the blow to the US had not been as fatal as it at first seemed. Apparently when reviewing the facts the Japanese Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto uttered the famous words: “I fear all we have done is to awaken a sleeping giant and fill him with a terrible resolve.”

When we are on to quote, let us round off with a quote from perhaps the greatest American president of all time: Theodore Roosevelt. On the issue of foreign policy, his adage was: “Walk softly and carry a big stick, and you will go far.” You don’t find them much bigger than the Nimitz-class supercarriers, as sticks go.

Last week, the House of Representatives passed a health care reform bill that included a public option for those who cannot afford private health insurance. As the debate roared on, the Republican opposition to this “government run health care” option became louder and louder. Democrats in the Senate should not fear the virulent conservative rage and press forward with the public option in their own bill. If we can get the public option created, there is little chance that it will ever be demolished.

Standing before the Democratic convention that nominated him some 77 years ago, Franklin D. Roosevelt pledged a new deal for the American people. Among the programs brought forth by President Roosevelt was Social Security. Conservatives have berated the program for decades as socialist in nature, yet nothing has been done about it. Seventy-four years have passed, and no Republican congress has yet dismantled the program.

Former President Harry Truman, then 80, was the very first to receive a Medicare card in the United States. A larger part of Johnsons “Great Society,” Medicare was an attempt to ensure that elderly Americans had health insurance long after they were working. Republicans blasted the program as socialized health care, and wanted the federal government to have nothing to do with it. Ronald Reagan saw the program as problematic for future generations and a curtailment of freedom. It has been forty-four years now since the Social Security Act of 1965 was passed, and the program is still around to this day.

These two programs constitute the largest examples of big-government programs in the federal government today. If Republicans were truly the party of no big government, Medicare and Social Security would have disappeared decades ago.

The track record of the Republican party is to fight hard against social programs put forth by the Democrats and then integrate them into their own platform some time later. They make no serious efforts to derail these programs once they are in effect, thus giving up on their “no big-government” attitude.

This is exactly why Senate Democrats must act swiftly to put our foot in the door for universal health care in the future. Once the public option becomes solidified within the federal government, Republicans would never dare touch it. Decimating the program would result in wrenching insurance out of millions of Americans hands. Not even Republicans are that callous.

From there, the program can be expanded to include more and more people. People who are simply fed up with their current, private insurance can switch to the government program. Then the program can be integrated with Medicare so that the poor, the elderly and the disenfranchised can all have reasonable insurance. The option must work in concert with Medicare to safeguard the most at risk in society, so the jump to universal health care will be a short one.

Providing citizens with the ability to receive basic medical services is an essential right, whether it is directly guaranteed by the Constitution or not. Universal health care is not a boogeyman that is out to get the American taxpayer. It is an attempt to create a society in which everyone has equal access to care so that all Americans can be healthy enough to pursue happiness.

Let’s hope the Senate does the right thing and keeps the option in the final bill so that perhaps we can make true progress for the first time in forty-four years.

“Apartheid Education” is what the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, the NAACP, feels is the appropriate example to describe Pittsburgh’s public education system, and furthermore, explain the educational divide that separates the city’s Black and White students like a chasm forged with falling meteors.

The famed organization marched in a protest through Pittsburgh’s Oakland neighborhood, hoping to spread their insight on the separate and unequal educational system that has disturbingly become the norm within the city.

Recently, several members of Pittsburgh’s board of education have spoken out about closing some of the city’s schools. Unsurprisingly, the schools chosen were all sub-par, low-grade learning facilities; the “Black” schools.

In response to the NAACP’s allegations, Superintendent Mark Roosevelt offered an explanation into the possible move by saying that there might not even be any need to take any action at all.

“We don’t even have a plan,” said Roosevelt to local media. “ Some consultants came forward with some recommendations based on values of buildings, but there are no school closings planned. We are months away from bringing a plan forward, no less the board making decisions.”

Hip-Hop Wired will keep you posted on this developing story…

“Training in the writing of good English is indispensable to any learned man who expects to make his learning count for what it ought to count in the effect on his fellow man.”

-Theodore Roosevelt from Through the Brazilian Wilderness

Here we go again. Obama and his cohorts in the Senate are hell bent on accomplishing the destruction of our civil society before the 2010 elections and are attacking us through the judicial appointments route.

Knowing full well that the cat is out of the bag, several cats as a matter of fact, on the true nature of the DeMarxist socialist agenda for America. Knowing that they face an increasingly uphill road to continue to buffalo the American people into believing the lies and obfuscations they’ve been delivering and having to face a hostile electorate.

Democrats, watching support for them and their agenda melting away in the polls, having  to face the  possibility that they face a real waxing in the 2010 elections and possibly beyond, are reverting to their most favored  tactic, which is to suborn the election process and the will of the people  through the judiciary. Nothing new there. Super kudos to Mark Levin for being all over this thing today, while everyone else seems oblivious to the real dangers this issue holds.

Judicial activism is nothing new to our federal courts. Neither is it new to the Democratic party. Franklin Roosevelt, with the  “Judiciary Reorganization Plan” of 1937, also known as the ‘court packing plan’, kicked the whole thing off. He was responsible for the appointment of no less than eight members of the Supreme Court during his twelve years in office…replacing justices hostile to his socialist agenda with those more friendly to his ‘New Deal’ policies.

Enter Patrick ‘Leaky’ Leahy, the man who couldn’t keep a classified secret to save his life, Chairman of the Senate Judiciary Committee. How the HELL do we allow such men and women into positions of power and influence? Leahy is moving forward legislation to increase federal judgeships AGAIN, after having tried it WITH some Republican co-sponsors last year. He is asking for 12 new judgeships in six courts of appeal and 51 judgeships in 25 district courts. He has 17 Democrat co-sponsors and no Republicans on this one.

The implications for the people’s voice to stand, if Obama and his Marxists are able to stack the courts with Maoist ACLU types, are grim. Yet we keep seeing where certain RINO moderate Republicans would make an accommodation with their Democratic counterparts, at the expense of the constituency they purportedly serve.

We have to put the word out NOW that any Republican who supports any of  these appointments, or who fails to fight every one of these appointments, may as well start packing now. This is an area we cannot afford to lose. We have to fight these people at every turn. There can be NO accommodation. There can be NO deal making.
There can be NO more RINO Republican turncoats.

Semper Vigilans, Semper Fidelis

© Skip MacLure 2009

Another delightful visit here, and we are already looking forward to a return stay! Thank you Pam, Glenn and Ingrid for your hospitality. We are sure to see you again.

Tom and Katie

Lynn, MA

In 1942, eight Germans arrived in New York with the mission of destroying civilian targets including aluminum plants and bridges.  The Germans were sure to wear their Nazi uniforms after landing and departing from their submarine until they were able to hide.  They wore their uniforms in case they were caught.

Two of the eight decided to defect from the mission and turn themselves in.  In fact, one of them went to Washington DC to turn himself over to the FBI.  He had to pour out the $84,000 he had as a budget for his mission onto the FBI agent’s desk for him to believe that their mission was for real.  It was certainly a pre-9/11 world.

Democrat President Franklin Roosevelt charged the saboteurs with violating the laws of war, correspondence with or giving intelligence to the enemy, espionage, and conspiracy to commit these crimes.  Roosevelt ordered that they be tried by Military Commission and the Supreme Court backed him up in Ex Parte Quinn. This is despite their lawyers arguing for a civilian trial.

All eight were sentenced to death.  Roosevelt granted clemency for the two defectors, giving one life in prison and the other (who had turned them all in) thirty years.  Six years later, after the end of the war, Truman used his Presidential pardon to set the two defectors free and deport them back to Germany.  The others were put in the electric chair.

Khalid Sheikh Mohammed is not a US citizen.  In 1993 he masterminded a plot to blow up the World Trade Center.  Six Americans were killed and more than 1,000 were injured.  He conspired to commit other acts of terrorism and planned acts of terrorism.  Then on September 11, 2001, Mohammed’s most terrible plan came to fruition as he directed hijackers to fly airplanes into the World Trade Towers, the Pentagon, and planned for another plane to strike which was brought down by the passangers into an empty field in Pennsylvania.  2,995 people died on September 11, 2001.

Khalid Sheikh Mohammed did not have a rank or uniform.  He was not a US citizen subject to US civilian laws.  As a non-uniformed enemy combatant of a country or group that has not been invaded, he is not subject to the protections of the Geneva Conventions.  There is absolutely no legal reason that Mohammed should receive a civilian trial.

Unfortunately, our current President and Attorney General disagree.  Barack Obama, who is not a shell of the man Franklin Roosevelt was, has decided to send Khalid Sheikh Mohammed to New York City, where he killed more than 2,000 people, to face a civilian trial.  Mohammed will be granted all the same rights and constitutional protections as any American citizen who has committed criminal acts against the people of the United States.

President Obama fails to realize that we are in a war.  Even if Bush failed to secure a properly worded declaration of war from our congress, foreign radical islamic terrorists have failed to recognize the technicality and continue to claim American civilian and military victims at home and abroad.  Now, Holder must find an impartial jury in New York who have not already made up their minds about Mohammed and 9/11.  By the time he finds an impartial jury, Mohammed will have died of old age.  Either that or Holder could pick a jury out of Obama’s advisors who seem to have already forgotten 9/11, or have no opinion on whether it was right or wrong.

Perhaps the bigger issue is Mohammed’s treatment.  He was brought to a prison outside of US territory and they held him down and poured water on his face.  A US citizen who is treated such a way would rightfully receive concessions in their civilian trial, or even have the trial thrown out.  War criminals also should not be treated such a way.  We have the Geneva Conventions to regulate war and to ensure that troops are treated with respect, especially when they are captured.  However, the Geneva Conventions do not apply to non-uniformed enemy combatants.  The other reason we would normally avoid making prisoners stand in an uncomfortable position for 8 hours (like you do at work every day) or having water poured on their face is because we wouldn’t want our troops treated that way.  For Khalid Sheikh Mohammed, who said that he beheaded “that jew” Daniel Pearl himself, I don’t think pouring water on his face would change how he would treat our troops.

What Obama has done, by ordering a civilian trial in New York City, is and should be recognized as an incompetent blunder by this President.  By making it a civilian trial, Obama has done nothing short of declaring the war on terror to be over.  The only problem is that it wasn’t our war to declare over.  Will allowing Mohammed to gloat in a New York City courtroom while Obama blames the mis-trial on the last 8 years prevent the next Ft. Hood?  Will putting the Bush administration on a de facto trial for pouring water on terrorists’ faces make terrorists stop being terrorists?  Or will this victory for Mohammed and his terrorist companions please the radical terrorists as much as it will Europe and the radical left?

With Obama’s early withdrawal from Iraqi cities, months of waffling on Afghanistan, and now shear incompetence with these trials, even New York liberals may be starting to question if Obama is really the man they want answering the phone at 2am.

I mentioned a while ago that my dad was coming up to visit for the day and I’ve finally developed the pictures. It was really nice to spend the morning with him and my brother. Too bad mom couldn’t have been there too : )

I’m incredibly envious of his wavy hair.

See the resemblance?

We stuffed our faces at Sunlight Vegetarian Cafe before going to a couple grocery stores – which was a pretty good idea (I’m sure my dad’s wallet would say so at least) because we were so full we hardly wanted to buy anything.

Charming little street, isn’t it?

Apologies for my lack of posts the last few days -  I had a big test, but now its over. I’m grateful for your comments and views, all of you that continue to look at my photos!

*click images for full view

[Source: Seth Anderson, Downtown Phoenix Partnership blog] – The automobile is so ubiquitous in Phoenix that it has even crept into the way we speak.  With rare exception, we do not talk about where we live in terms of neighborhoods or districts, but in terms of intersections.  You hear, “I live at 7th Ave and Camelback” or “I live in North Phoenix off of (fill in the blank),” but never a reference to an established neighborhood.  (There are exceptions, but they are few.)

I think it’s unfortunate that our Phoenix lingo doesn’t include references to neighborhoods, the areas that should be little pockets of density like mini-cities within the city.  I’m thinking of places like North Park, Hillcrest, and Kensington in San Diego; Sugar House or the Avenues in Salt Lake; Lakeview or Andersonville in Chicago; or Georgetown or Dupont Circle in D.C.  Each of these neighborhoods has its own character, charm, and history and each neighborhood is integral to sustaining a healthy downtown core.  Without neighborhoods, mixed use buildings, and walkable streets, a town center can never mature into an urban city because it will lack the vibrancy and innovation necessary.  If downtown Phoenix is the urban heart or Arizona, then people are the lifeblood and the neighborhoods where the people live are the organs that supply it.

I’d like to see the city government take a more active role in “branding” the existing neighborhoods.  (And by “take a more active role” I mean cut the red tape, back off, and stop imposing more and more restrictions that insist on a suburban style of development.)  Did you know there are actually 35 historic neighborhoods in Phoenix?  I did not; I am able to identify just a handful.  Of those I have a shaky idea about where they are; I can vaguely discern when I am in one.  Willo is pretty obvious.  Coronado and Garfield are a little more inconspicuous.  However, I’d have to look at a map to identify exactly where those two neighborhoods are.  [Note: Read the full blog entry at Viewpoint: Where do you live (in Phoenix)?"]