It will never be featured at the George W. Bush Presidential Library, I can assure you.
Do Not Speak Ill Of The Dead
But thankfully only his two terms as President are dead; he’s still alive. So……..
Fuck You George W. Bush.
Thousands died because of your failure early in your first term and hundreds of thousands (if not more) died because of you incompetence after September 11th, 2001. Innocent men, women, and children in Iraq died because of your lies. Brave American service members sacrificed their lives because of your lies.
You will never be anything more than a Miserable Failure.
Emotional
I am feeling emotional this morning. But not a bad emotional. Not a regretful, fatalistic, and depressed emotional. Instead, I find I am moved close to tears by various postings and pictures on facebook and other sites that reaffirm my beliefs and values – that show I am on the right path for me and my life.
I am experiencing gratitude at an emotional level. It feels good. I like that I can now experience this type of emotion. When I was using drugs and alcohol I could not experience an honest emotional feeling if my life depended on it – and it did. Because by not experiencing my God-given emotions I was dying by way of an emotional neuropathy.
This emotional gratitude is a reminder to me that, like all pleasant emotions and emotional states, it is not constant and ever-present, but earned through actions – the next right behaviors – the application of structure and discipline with a large dose of faith.
Today it is brought to my attention that gratitude is not just an intellectual understanding of the benefits of my life, but also an emotional understanding. It is one of those rare concepts that can be both irrational and logical.
And yes, this fails in every way to adequately describe what I am truly experiencing. Sigh. The trails and tribulations of being a writer.
What Faith Is
I have never heard a better description of faith:
2nd Suspect Caught
Uh, yeah. Cool. Except, well….. there are more out there. The two that were identified in the videos were not the only ones. This attempt at closure by the authorities is misplaced. And trust me when I say they are all talking as if this chapter is closed. As a counselor, I work at creating closure quite regularly.
But closure is about an ending. The bombing on Monday, and the resultant man hunt are but a start. It is not even close to an ending.
Do not get me wrong. I believe that the actions this past week by all the agencies involved was by far some of the strongest proof that terrorism is best handled by police work, not military intervention. I also believe that the agencies did bring their A-game. They kicked ass.
It is the attempted effort at closure that I am having difficulty in accepting. There are more out there; of this I have no doubt. It is one thing to discuss what has occurred so far in this case; to share information to give the population a sense of security. It is another to give an impression that everything is now done. Everything is not done. There is still more police and investigative work to be completed. There are more terrorists to apprehend.
Shoveled Out!
Okay, I managed to get myself shoveled out of the driveway. Now comes the real test; can I get down the unplowed road? Thankfully a good sized pickup drove by, creating two large ruts I should be able to follow. Wish me the best! I am going to try and get to work.
My Thoughts Towards Boston
I am hoping for a good outcome to an already tragic situation in Boston. My thoughts are to the good people there, and to the courageous men and women of the law enforcement agencies as they search for the suspect.
Snowpocalypse
Holy crap! I have over 12 inches blocking my front door. I managed to open it about a third of the way. But that is it. Meanwhile, the State of Minnesota, being ignorant and stubborn, has yet to declare a weather emergency in this part of the state. So, I am still expected to make it to work. I am not going to make it, but I am expected.
Sigh. And the town I live in does not have a road crew. That means no plowing of the streets. So, even if I could get my ass out the front door and shovel the foot of snow off my car and out of my driveway, I am not making it down the road. I called work, they know I am not going to make it on time. Hell, if they do not plow my road today, I will not make it in at all.
Oh well. I am enjoying my hot, black, strong coffee and listening to the news about the Snowpocalypse and the continuing saga in Boston.
Why I Read John Cole – Part “Who Can Count That Far”
Remember that the next few days during the media frenzy, if you must watch. I would recommend you don’t. And I refuse to give up another right to prevent another “Boston,” but you know there will be calls to “do something.” We still take our god damned shoes off at airports because of a failed attempt. Lord only knows what is going to come down the pipeline now. The only thing we “need” to do is find the perpetrators, try them, convict them, and jail them for the rest of our lives as we go on with ours, and I have full faith that our collected government agencies can do this.
The bomber(s) isn’t the only one who wants you to be afraid. Remember that.
This is John at his best. He is just so damn much better at letting out a righteous rant than I. And everything he says is exactly what I think.
Like him I am tired of our country reacting out of fear. We are not a nation of cowards, yet since September 11th, 2001 that is exactly how we have reacted. And because of that fear devious men have manipulated the enacting of laws that hinder our freedom and re-distribute money to the already rich and powerful while failing to actually protect us from terrorists – both domestic and abroad.
And to those of you who are clutching your pearls and pulling your hair, demanding that “something be done” and telling us that “sacrifice is the price for freedom.” Fuck you. Go wet your own goddamn bed and stop showing us all your cowardice.
Now I Understand!
I always wondered how the garden Gnomes ended up headless!
Hat tip: Bark Bark Woof Woof