Wednesday, February 28, 2007

More border bull *bleep*

You would not think the Ramos-Compean case could get stranger, but it has.

As a result of yesterday's revelation of the continuing pattern of lives, cover-ups and illegal activity on the part of persecutor Johnny Sutton and his henchperson Debra Kanof -- aided by dubious rulings from a Bush-appointed judge -- Congressman Dana Rohrbacher (R-CA) called a press conference in Washington today.

Before he could speak, he received a call from the Department of "Justice" asking him not to reveal the DEA documents that expose Sutton and Kanof's illegal activities.

Why? Because the DoJ is "still investigating" the case of Osvaldo Aldrete Davila, the illegal-alien serial drug smuggler who was given the freest of free passes in order to convict Ramos and Compean with his lying testimony. They might still charge him with a crime for bring a load of grass across the border while making regular visits under protection of his U.S.government-issued border pass.

Right. Anyone who believes that is as mentally deranged as, well, George Bush.

They simply don't want the flood gates to open completely. If they did, the trail of duplicity and law-breaking might run straight from Kanof to Sutton to...who? Attorney General Alberto Gonzales? Homeland "Security" boss Michael Chertoff? or straight to El Presidente himself, senor Jorge Bush?

I know where I think the peso stops.

And here's today's laugh, courtesy of aforementioned incompetent boob Michael Chertoff: according to a radio report this afternoon, the DHS has offered to help Mexico close its southern border to cut off the hordes of poverty-stricken people from South America looking for a better life north of the border!

No "guest-worker program." No "path to citizenship." No free services, welfare benefits, government-supported free wiring of money to the folks back home, no no-I.D. credit cards from major banks. No way, Jose. Stay the hell home and don't bug Jorge Bush's amigos in Mexico City.

Hypocritical bastards.

Uh-huh...

...the day met -- almost exceeded -- my worst expectations.

All the running-around stuff went, well, okay. Among other things, I had to find a photo location for an article. In Orange County, California, that's damn near impossible. Whatever minuscule patches of ground aren't paved over or covered with hideous pseudo-Spanish houses and shopping malls are fenced off. Or the owners want "fees" for letting us shoot that are higher than the total amount the photog and I will make from the work. Fooey.

Finally found a good place, but it took five hours, not counting the round-trip between here and O.C., plus a lot of phone-tag when I got back.

When I got home, I almost felt good, though. There was a package of new magazines waiting for me. This is something I've never tired of: that first moment when I see something I've written in print, bound between covers.

Until now, anyway. There was nothing wrong with the article; it was as-written, was given plenty of prominence (not to mention eight pages of space) and even used (among many others) a photo that appeared right here a few months back.

But there was no check. Not from this magazine or the other two that are pretty deeply in hock to me.

That took all the pleasure out of it. I came damn close to pitching the stupid things into the bin. I may still do that.

I did get an email from one of the three editors which said, in essence, "gosh, the girl who makes out the checks messed up and somehow yours didn't get done with everyone else's. Sorry."

Yeah. Like I can pay my rent with an email saying there will be a check.

I'm getting sick of this. No, it's beyond that.

Today, I don't care...

...about much of anything.

The only thing on my mind is getting through the next 12-15 hours without breaking into a million jagged pieces.

I have to deal with a couple of people today, which means appearing cheerful when in reality I am not. They have nothing to do with my current problems. Nor, alas, do they have any part in a solution to said problems.

It'll be one hell of an acting job if I pull it off.

There's a lot more I'd like to say, but it would just bring me down to see all of it written out, and I can't deal with that right now.

Tuesday, February 27, 2007

42 days...

...and counting since Border Patrol agents Ignacio Ramos and Jose Compean were sent to federal prison based on trumped-up charges and lies from Texas persecuting attorney -- and George Bush "pal" -- Johnny Sutton and his pet pitbull, Debra Kanof.

Even now, more evidence of the illegality and immorality of the government's action comes out, as reporter Sara Carter of the Inland Valley Daily Bulletin, one of the pitifully small number of journalists with the guts to pursue this hideous story, has found that Sutton and Kanof, with the help of a Bush-appointee judge, knowingly lied about, distorted and covered up the true facts in order to shield an illegal-alien drug smuggler from punishment and punish Border Patrol agents for doing their job.

Certain portions of the trial transcript are "sealed" (by the judge's order). Apparently, they include testimony and written material from the Drug Enforcement Agency -- which the jury was not allowed to hear -- about the second drug-smuggling arrest of Osvaldo Aldrete Davila after the incident during which he was shot in the ass. This took place while he was carrying his cross-the-border pass from Sutton.

Aldrete Davila was not only apprehended, but was identified by witnesses.

Of course he was cut loose. After all, why arrest an illegal-alien drug smuggler when you can use his perjured testimony to jack-up a couple of Americans who dare to enforce the laws Bush and his crowd scoff at?

Interestingly enough, Kanof portrayed the illegal as a poor, pitiful, unarmed little Mexican guy who wanted to earn money for his family and made "just that one" drug run. She knew better. So did Sutton.

Members of Aldrete Davila's family have told Sara Carter that he ran drugs, and would never have done so without carrying a weapon.

So why do Ramos and Compean remain in jail?

Answer me that, Senor Presidente Jorge Bush.

In fact, answer that question as you free them (as well as Gilmer Hernandez) and fire Sutton, Kanof and everyone in the "Justice" Department and Department of Homeland "Security."

Then submit your own resignation and spend the rest of your life and considerable fortune making restitution to Ramos, Compean, Hernandez and David Sipe.

We do not forget these men, Senor Presidente. You, the Mexican government you so love to suck up to and the rest of the open-borders crowd have much to answer for.

Nothing like starting the day...

...with some early-morning, pre-breakfast grief.

Back East it's almost mid-day, of course, so people are well into their work days, so I shouldn't have been surprised to hear from people on the Other Coast early.

This requires a bit of preliminary explanation. I spent considerable time in December and January working on a story meant to appear in two magazines. Circumstances kept me from getting all the preliminary work done within a single day or even week; suffice it to say the number of hours I put into getting information, arranging for photography and holding the editors' hands (not literally, I assure you) through the whole thing was excessive when compared to what I could expect to get paid.

Both magazines are apparently on the stands now. I haven't seen them. Nor have I seen checks.

But one of the people involved with the project I was writing about has seen them, and he's not happy.

He has a particular quibble with a couple of the photo captions which he feels are a bit insulting to his product (one is simply inexcusable), and he's absolutely right. Unfortunately, I did not write them. He laid the blast on me, however, as my byline appears on the story.

Yes, I did make one small error in the story, which he pointed out. While it makes me look like an idiot, it's relatively small and may pass without comment from the fussier readers.

So I have spent the morning sending out and replying to messages to the editors and to this guy, have talked to him twice on the phone. All while acid boils in my stomach.

Meanwhile, the line of people who want all of the money I have not yet received (and more) are figuratively lined up at my door, and they are getting loud and nasty about what they want. I don't blame them.

Screw this. It's another day when the only thing I can think of doing is taking another aimless drive. I can't work today.

Monday, February 26, 2007

Stay tuned...

...if you want to experience (vicariously, at least) my total meltdown. It's not far off.

There is something cruel about being forced to learn that the things you believe and have worked for are essentially meaningless, that the beliefs you grew up with count for nothing.

The world has shifted off its familiar axis, and I'm not sure I can adjust to the new reality. Worse, I'm not sure I want to.

If nothing else, perhaps I can provide a little entertainment on my way out.

I'm not yet ready to tell the Rest of the Story (as Paul Harvey says), but I'm damn close. Another day or two of the current situation ought to be enough to wipe out my reticence.

Even a dinosaur is entitled to a final defiant roar before extinction, you know.

Reason #434,965...

...why I will never be wealthy:

When I first started listening to all the high-minded talk about reducing humanity's noxious contributions to the problem of "global warming" -- something I remain unconvinced is actually happening, at least to the degree the alarmists say -- I envisioned a rush to create new pollution-control devices, to to find new, cleaner sources of energy production, to encourage people to waste less and conserve more.

Silly me.

Al Gore and his constant jet flights from here to there and everywhere in between should have been a tipoff. So should his animated renderings of drowning polar bears and melting ice caps, not to mention his 20,000 square-foot mansion.

But what I didn't envision was that the New Entrepreneurs would be making fortunes not from devising ways to consume less, pollute less and still manage to live comfortably, but would be the brokers of so-called "energy credits."

The way this works is as simple as it is absurd: a nasty, pollution-ravaged nation (such as the USA) can buy these "credits" from less=polluted places such as the Bahamas or Upper Volta (if the latter still exists) to offset the noxious crap they continue to pump into the air and water. Thus, the pollution-offender's total "score" is lowered, while the Clean Country's score goes up a bit, but is still within limits.

It's sort of like buying clean air and water, but not actually having them.

Oddly enough, one of the nations making out big in this new scheme is China, which is, environmentally speaking, a real cesspool. Why? Because its industries make a great deal of some particular pollutant -- among many others -- that can be cleaned up easily. Thus, they make it, get rid of it, and factories in some other country that create worse messes can pay China for the "air" it dirtied, then cleaned.

Confused? So am I.

This scheme reminds me of companies such as Enron, that bought electricity from power plants (which used to sell directly to delivery systems) and sold it to said delivery systems. In short, they bought what they didn't make, marked up the price (substantially) and, without doing anything more than shuffling papers, made huge profits from selling it to the companies that once bought direct.

We all know how that idea ended up.

Now there are companies buying and selling these "pollution credits." So-called "environmentalists" -- those who appear in public in Priuses, leaving the Hummer H2 or Escalade back at their 20,000 s.f. pads so the gullible will think they're "activists" -- can pay one of these trading companies a few bucks to offset the "carbon footprint" of their pets with some nice clean air from St Kitts, or a little more for their illegal-alien maids and gardeners.

Man, I wish I had come up with this. This is the hottest thing since the Pyramid Scheme, and all you have to do is buy some fresh air from Tibet and sell it to South Korea. No inventory, no manufacturing, no effort; you just sit there and watch the ol' mazooma roll in from all those fools who signed the Kyoto Accords and all the would-be "carbon neutral" chumps with more money (and p.r. sensitivity) than brains.

Beats the heck out of selling Amway, no?

Concrete scratchings...

...by someone who's been reading Уильям Шекспир's plays, no doubt...

Sunday, February 25, 2007

GCotW...caught in the act...

...of doing some cat-thing or other...

How weird is this?

According to this story from Time magazine, James (Titanic) Cameron has produced a documentary purporting to show the tomb of Jesus, Mary, Mary Magdalene, Joseph and Jesus's son(!) in Jerusalem. Further, he claims there was no resurrection for Jesus after the crucifixion, and can back all this up with plenty of evidence, including DNA (double !) samples.

Ummmm...yeah. Right on, Jim.

Even in my "Christian" days, I didn't buy this part of the Jesus story. Like some of the "miracles" referred to in various books of the Bible, I felt the resurrection was, shall we say, a case of poetic license intended to make a point. Logically, it didn't work, for the same reasons as Lazarus's tale and the water-into-wine bit didn't work.

I'm not saying this to put down those who do believe, by the way. If you accept every last incident in the Bible as absolute, incontrovertible truth, more power to you.

Still, I find this rather amusing on several levels, not the least of which is the reaction the story has drawn. There are literally more than a thousand comments on the Time website about it so far, pretty evenly divided (at least among the sampling I looked through) between the believers who are consigning Cameron to an especially warm corner of Hell and the scoffers who knew it all the time.

And neither side has the slightest willingness to admit they might be wrong, at least on some of the details.

The Bible is hardly what one could take into a court of law as proof anyway. There are few eyewitness accounts in it; if someone had been around to record the story of Adam and Eve in "real time" for example, the basic premise would be automatically shot down. Likewise, the story of Jesus is, so far as I recall, not told by anyone who actually hung out with him. The translations are suspect (simply because they are translations) as well, since only a few people can (supposedly) read the original.

But that doesn't mean much of what's in there is wrong, either, though the same arguments for Biblical accuracy could be used to validate, say, the Epic of Gilgamesh.

Every religion has its mythology. Every religion is based on taking certain concepts on faith. Which is where I have trouble with organized religion in general.

Cameron's theory is equally mythical. DNA evidence? Comparing whatever samples could be obtained from this tomb to samples from whom? Names on caskets? It apparently took archaeologists 20 years to figure out the inscriptions; what if they were wrong? What if they found the burial place of Louie, son of Emil, and his family instead?

Personally, I think believing Christians should just laugh this off, the same way anyone who has a functioning brain should laugh off the "documentary" efforts of Michael Moore and Al Gore.

Both Christianity and Judaism have the Ten Commandments at their core. The rest is, as far as I'm concerned, window dressing; those are enough to deal with and live by.

I forgot what night this is...

...until a few moments ago, when the sound of a vintage air-raid siren -- yes, there are a few left Where The Ghetto Meets The Sea -- shattered the quiet night.

A few moments later, I could hear a .50-cal. machine gun and the boom of what sounded like anti-aircraft fire.

I looked out the window and saw that fireworks were substituting for the AA weapons. And I assume the .50 was firing blanks.

On the night of February 24, 1942, Japanese aircraft were supposedly spotted over Los Angeles. The Army responded by shooting into the night sky, with no result. Since the attackers would have flown over this area, a group of WWII vets and military buffs re-enact that night every year from a site a couple of blocks from here that once held naval and AA guns. The concrete pads are still there.

There have been countless stories about that night, and Spielberg made a nonsensical movie about it.

I've heard various stories, including a couple from my father, who was then flying anti-submarine patrols along the coast. There were a few Japanese subs operating offshore, and some of them may have had the ability to carry and launch seaplanes. Beyond that, nobody knows.

But the WWII vets and buffs have a grand time at 9:30 p.m. every Feb. 24th. They put on their tin hats and khakis and head down to the old fort to launch a few rounds against the phantom Japanese.

Saturday, February 24, 2007

Waiting for Art Bell...

...who'll be on the air about 45 minutes from now. I need my fix of extraterrestrials, voices from beyond the grave, mysterious lights in the sky and whatever else Art manages to dredge up tonight. Not to mention those seriously deranged callers from eerie parallel-universe places like Manitoba and Idaho.

This is what it all seems to come down to: after a useless, ceaselessly frustrating day which follows similarly depressing days, weeks and months right back to last March -- broken only by short-lived moments of pleasure that always seem to have bad consequences -- all that's left to me is to listen to the voices in the night.

Fittingly, the first time I heard Art was on a long, long drive across the desert (destination not remembered), at a place where his radio station's signal was so weak that it would fade in and out as the miles went by. Since he was talking about UFOs and the Great Roswell Cover-Up, that seemed appropriate. For all I knew, he could have been broadcasting from a flying saucer that was dipping in and out of the Van Allen Radiation Belt. Or the Gummint could have been jamming his signal....

There is no solace to be found here. The show is seldom lighthearted -- except when Art talks about his cats or a caller strains even his credulity -- and if I fall asleep without shutting the radio off, I invariably get nightmares. Less-destructive ones than those I get at other times, but unsettling enough.

But hearing a voice -- any voice not yammering about politics, or announcing songs I dislike, or peddling phony health scams and get-rich-quick plans -- is all the comfort I can get these days.

I won't tell you any of the things I'd rather be doing, the voices I'd rather be hearing. Just thinking of writing them down is bad enough.

My personal jury is still out on the existence of flying saucers. I don't buy most conspiracy theories, and so far I think there is little likelihood that the world will end in 2012 as the Aztecs -- or was it Mayans? -- seem to have predicted.

Doesn't matter, though. Art is there when I need him. It doesn't get any better than that. For me, anyway.

Hypocrisy, Mexican style...

...as reported by BBC News.

It seems workers building part of the infamous "border fence" project -- you know, the one that Congress voted for last year, Bush agreed to build (in the name of "securing our borders") and is now on the way to being shut down ASAP by Congress and Bush -- were inadvertently working less than 40 feet inside Mexican territory when spotted by some righteous Mexicans.

The Beeb has this to say about it: Mexico's parliament has condemned what it says is a border violation by US workers building a controversial barrier between the two countries.

Ummmm...what about the wholesale, Mexican government-sanctioned invasion of the U.S.A. by 20 million illegals? Every last one of them has made it more than 40 feet into this country.

Our ambassador to Mexico, one of Bush's hand-picked open-borders clowns, said this: The US is sensitive to Mexican concerns... [and] has the deepest respect for the integrity of the sovereignty of Mexican soil".

Ain't that the truth! We are so sensitive to their concerns that we swing open the gates to those people Mexico doesn't want, letting them steal jobs from (and grab public assistance paid for by) American citizens.

But what about Mexico's respect for the integrity of the sovereignty of our soil? They don't have any.

While they use any means possible -- in some cases extremely brutal methods -- to deter illegal immigrants from crossing their country's southern border, they howl like banshees whenever Americans try to make their fleeing people abide by our laws.

And George Bush listens to them instead of his own citizens.

This is one of those times when one wishes we had a leader with the, well, guts to stand up to the corrupt jerks who have made Mexico into a disaster zone and suggest -- politely -- that if they want to scream about an inadvertent 40-foot excursion into their country, they damn well should do something themselves to control the illegals and drug-smugglers (and the gun-toting off-duty federales who guard them on their journeys) who are invading our country.

I suppose Bush will issue a contrite apology to his buddies in Mexico City and throw the offending wall-builders in jail. That's what he does to "protect our borders."

Another hole in our borders...

...is set to open within 60 days by order of George Bush's Department of Transportation.

As reported in this article in WorldNetDaily.com, Bush has found another way of paying off his Mexican pals. Here are the first two paragraphs, with added emphasis):

One hundred Mexican trucking companies will have unlimited access to U.S. roads to haul international cargo as part of a year-long pilot program, the Department of Transportation announced today

In return, 100 U.S. trucking companies will be allowed to operate in Mexico but at a later date.


Pilot program? With the upcoming Senate push for amnesty for illegals coming as soon as next month, and all the programs being instituted to insure, educate and provide health care for the children of illegals, this is merely part of the big push to abolish our borders altogether and allow the invasion to flow in unabated.

Of course the usual group of pro-illegal fifth-columnists -- the Los Angeles Times, New York Times and other "elite" media are just as happy as clams about every assault on our laws and citizens.

Even if this program wasn't absurd on its face, the fact that these Mexican truckers will be able to charge lower rates for hauling American goods back home with them, the fact that they won't be subject to the U.S. rules regarding drivers' licensing, insurance and permissible driving hours, the fact that their trucks will not get the same rigorous safety inspections American-owned trucks are subject to, indicate the scorn Bush and his supporters in the open-borders cause have for their own citizens.

Let's face it. We have, counting Republicans and Democrats alike, the first government in our history that simply wants to surrender our sovereignty to foreigners for the good of a few greedy corporations and to satisfy a few misguided "one-world" do-gooders. Just as bad, they expect us to pay for it. And we will.

So: we have an interesting cast of co-conspirators here:

-- a few business "leaders" who will sell out American workers to make a fast buck off low-wage labor from Mexico;

-- the Catholic Church (particularly in Southern California), which wants all those Catholics from the South filling their churches, and doesn't give a damn about the American Catholics who will lose their livelihoods while still being expected to pour their money into the collection plates;

-- a corrupt Mexican government, incapable of solving its country's problems, desirous of exporting its poor;

-- politicians, who see votes and payoffs from their big campaign donors in legalizing all the illegals.

This latest action, especially when added to the Senate's suicidal push to throw away our nation's laws and security, is a "pilot program" for the end of the United States.

It's later than we think.

Friday, February 23, 2007

Playing house...

...since I don't want to leave you with a sour taste in your collective mouth after the last entry. Misery does not, after all, love company.

In my wanderings yesterday, I found myself in the residential areas surrounding downtown Los Angeles. There is a not-nice word that applies to these districts; instead of using it, I'll just say there are barred windows and crumbling houses everywhere, and a general air of filth and decay that is, shall we say, uninspiring.

But if you happen to hit the right streets, you'll find this...


There is a district full of Victorian houses which has, for almost 20 years, been undergoing the "gentrification" process. Many of the homes have been restored -- at considerable expense -- and even those not yet brought back to full splendor are being worked on...



Not all Victorians are alike, of course...



And there are occasional newer houses (from the early 1900s), like this one in the "California Bungalow" style, which is my favorite...



But in this two- or three-block area, some of what once made Los Angeles a great city is being preserved...



And even though I will never, ever be able to afford one of these wonderful homes, I still enjoy looking...

Dream and reality.

Today was, if possible, worse than yesterday. Another 24 hours gone, and no respite from the things that are breaking me apart.

My sleep last night was visited by a dream I had rather often when I was very young and still something of a church-going Christian. On a fairly regular basis, I would dream of a place "where God was," where I felt warm and safe, and not afraid.

When I grew a bit older and could drive, I actually found that place. It was in a canyon not far from where I lived. I would go up there, hike and feel as if everything would be okay.

When the dream recurred last night, I knew I had to drive up there today. It's a fair distance now, and the wild "park" is now a Park and Interpretive Nature Center, complete with signs telling visitors what they can't do and a huge asphalt parking lot. The trails closest to the entrance are bordered by neatly placed stones.

The place that figured in my youthful dreams was there...



But God wasn't. The few times I heard bird-calls, they were almost immediately drowned out by the sounds of hammers, nailguns and saws being used to mansionize houses on the canyon rim. I could hear traffic, airplanes, helicopters....

It is no longer a refuge. No sense of safety, no sense of peace.

I hiked around for a while, enjoyed the sun, but felt more depressed when I left. I felt slightly foolish, too, looking for answers in such a place, expecting some all-powerful Creator-type to show any sort of sign about giving a rat's ass about me now, when my life so far has been totally free of any sort of divine intervention.

Of course when I came home, nothing had happened. Not even the things that should have happened because I earned them.

I'm not talking about winning lottery tickets or love simply stopping by out of the blue. I'm talking about things most people accept as their due.

So if anyone out there feels any particular connection to God, please let Him/Her/It know I could use a couple of basic breaks here in a big, big hurry. I've hung up the search.

Thursday, February 22, 2007

Outsourcing...

...is inescapable!



I didn't realize the City of L.A. has its manhole covers made in India. Thought it was just "customer service" phone banks....

An evil day...

...when nothing good happened, not even those things I have a right to expect. It was cold and gray, which matched my mood...



I drove around aimlessly for almost five hours. I needed to be away, needed to see something that would cheer me up, make me feel any shred of enthusiasm. Mostly, the drive did nothing except depress me more.

A long time ago, I mentioned my interest in classic architecture and 1920s-vintage movie theaters. When I started noticing such things, there were hundreds of fascinating buildings and dozens of grand movie houses to look at and explore.

So many are gone now. I saw plenty of vacant lots, plenty of cheap shopping malls and hideous new buildings, none of which has any character at all.

And I saw this 1928 movie palace, which is soon to vanish. Except for those downtown, which are incorporated into office buildings and are harder to demolish, the stand-alone theaters are almost all gone now. I never knew what it was called (it has been closed for the better part of 40 years), but have seen records that referred to it as the "Atlantic and Whittier" theater while it was being built.

Each time something familiar and appealing is turned into rubble, it takes a piece of me with it...



So you won't feel as sad as I do, I'll end with a street sign that could only appear in Hollywood...



And a business with a totally incomprehensible name...

Once again...

...I find myself unable to express my thoughts.

Once, I had grandiose dreams of success, of comfort, of love.

Now, I would settle for a secure roof over my head so I could ride out my remaining years in solitude and peace.

I'd like to be loved, but I don't know that I could again trust anyone who says she loves me.

I have some material desires, but most have lost their meaning.

Nothing remains, save a desire to be able to confront a new day without dread.

Even that is, apparently, too much to ask for.

Instead, perhaps I should simply ask for it all to be over.

Wednesday, February 21, 2007

Yet another railroad job...

...by the notorious Johnny Sutton.

It's not just Ignacio Ramos, Jose Compean, Gilmer Hernandez and David Sipe who have suffered for upholding the laws of this nation as they took an oath to do. Now, we have Gary Brugman, another Border Patrol agent whose story is frighteningly similar to those recounted here before.

Thanks to Harp O'Fly, who posted the link, you can read Brugman's story, in his own words, here.

How many more are being persecuted to satisfy George Bush's pro-illegal urges? How many are in jail already because of Johnnie Sutton's unconstitutional tactics?

Why is Johnnie Sutton not behind bars?

Why is George Bush still in office?

And, just as important, why is Congress silent? Supposedly, Sen Dianne Feinstein (D-CA) wanted to hold hearings into the beating of Ignacio Ramos in prison; her party's "leadership," which controls Congress, has postponed the hearings with no reason given.

This is a case where those who have power to right the monstrous wrongs being perpetrated by agencies of our government, yet remain silent, must bear some of the guilt.

When Johnnie Sutton finally faces justice for his actions, it will not do for him to say he was "only following orders." The order-giver, and his enablers, must be punished as well.

Can we see a pattern here?

Border Patrol agents Ignacio Ramos and Jose Compean are not the only victims of George Bush's open-borders, pro-Mexican fixation -- A Texas deputy sheriff, Gilmer Hernandez, also faces jail time for doing his job. The evidence that Bush's lackeys willfully broke numerous laws (and ignored the Constitution) in their zeal to make the borders safe for illegals -- including drug smugglers -- continues to mount.

But wait, there's more.

An editorial in today's Washington Times exposes yet another instance of the sickening banana-republic "justice" Americans receive at the hands of our so-called leaders. Excerpts follow:

The case of Border Patrol Agent David Sipe is an alarming example of misplaced priorities. On duty in April 2000 near Panitas, Texas, Mr. Sipe, his partner and two other agents responded to a disrupted motion sensor to find between 12 and 15 illegal aliens crossing the border. Most of the illegals followed the agents' instructions and surrendered, but several attempted to flee...

...In the course of making the arrest, Mr. Sipe struck one of the border crossers, a Mexican national named Jose Guevara, in the head with his flashlight. He said it was necessary, but the U.S. Attorney's office said it wasn't. In 2001, Mr. Sipe, who had no previous complaints against him, was convicted for using excessive force, and dismissed from the Border Patrol. The story doesn't end there, and when the conduct of the prosecuting attorney's office came to light Mr. Sipe was tried again and acquitted.

It turns out that three illegal aliens who testified against Mr. Sipe...received a very nice gift package. The Washington Times reported Monday that the three illegals got Social Security cards, witness fees, travel expenses, living expenses and the use of government telephones to call relatives in Mexico, and were allowed to travel to and from Mexico and to North Carolina...

The U.S. Attorney's office, moreover, covered up the generous benefits it had handed out. It failed to disclose the fact that all three illegal aliens had been living together in the months preceding the trial....[and] when Border Patrol agents stopped Mr. Guevara, again traveling with illegal aliens, they let him go when he flashed the "get out of jail card" he got from the prosecutors. "His arrest with illegal aliens was evidence that he was a transporter," wrote the 5th Circuit Court of Appeals in ordering a new trial, "as well as evidence of the extent of the government's support accorded him in order to obtain his testimony."


Does this sound familiar?

Amazingly, David Sipe wants to return to the Border Patrol. But with his record of willingness to uphold the law, I can't imagine Bush's co-conspirators allowing that to happen.

How many times do we have to see this disgusting pattern repeat itself?

For as long as we have a rogue president who is beholden to the corrupt leaders of a foreign country and a pro-illegal-alien, spineless Congress more interested in playing politics and taking bribes than doing the job it is Constitutionally mandated to do.

Tuesday, February 20, 2007

Nothin'...

...is what I got in the mail today.

And it's stressing me, big-time.

I have received exactly one check from any client. Since January first.

Have I been working? Have I met deadlines, turned in articles that inspired little notes from the editors thanking me for putting out the effort to give them good stuff?

I have.

But somehow, there is a disconnect between doing the work and getting the shitweasels to pay.

Worse, when I finally did get hold of one of the editors on the phone last week -- he returned my call because he wanted to find out when I would have another article completed for him -- it turns out he inadvertently deleted the copy for a story I sent him and somehow forgot to ask for another.

I sent it to him last October. It should already be in print and paid for.

There are few things as humiliating as dodging creditors or trying to explain the strangeness of this so-called "business" to someone who simply wants money.

If everyone paid off tomorrow -- which is as unlikely as, well, another impossible desire of mine -- I would be all caught up, with a few bucks to spare for something frivolous. Like maybe a run to Borders to pick up a couple new books. For me, that would be almost unbearable excitement.

In the meantime, I have to keep a low profile until someone decides they might as well pay.

And I have to keep working, which gets less and less appetizing by the day.

How many more days can I manage this unbalanced balancing act before snapping? I don't know.

Monday, February 19, 2007

Idiots, idiots, everywhere...

...and absolutely no relief in sight.

If you didn't notice -- and many media outlets are still so busy with Anna Nicole Smith and Britney "Kojak" Spears that they might not notice if the world came to an end around them -- we have the unending spectacle of political biggies acting like raving loons.

Take George Bush. Please. Delivering a truly forgettable "President's Day" speech, he compared the war in Iraq to the American Revolution. I can only guess that he's thinking the Middle East needs its own "George W" to lead it out of misery.

No, that can't be it. Mexico needs Jorge Bush to lead its people out of misery and into the USA, where they can have all the benefits American taxpayers can provide.

Then there's Hillary Clinton. She claims the '08 presidential election is about "breaking barriers," or some such crap.

I'd like to see her "break a barrier:" she could try being honest. For once. This is a woman who has done nothing in the Senate, tried to impose a hideous "health-care" scheme on us while Bubba was president, and has been involved with more shady deals than Meyer Lansky, but has never been called to account for a single one.

Teflon Hillary also mentioned today that South Carolina should dispense with the "Stars and Bars" flag of the Confederacy. Why? Because she thinks all Americans should fight under a single flag in time of war.

Yeah, right.

Is this not the same shrill left-wing wacko who joined with the other cowards in Congress to call for surrender in Iraq? Why is she suddenly concerned about soldiers fighting "under one flag?"

Okay, maybe I'm not sensitive enough. Not being descended from either Confederate soldiers, slave-owners or slaves, I have no dog in this hunt. If the good folks of S.C. want to dump the flag, I say let 'em. If they don't, that's cool, too.

Speaking of flags: I'm damn tired of the Mexican flag flying (symbolically) over the White House and Congress. Ignacio Ramos and Jose Compean are still in prison for trying to uphold America's laws, despite flagrant violations of the law committed by Johnnie Sutton, Debra Kanof and the rest of the "Justice Department and Homeland "Security" buffoons carrying out George Bush's orders.

And of course there is another victim, Deputy Sheriff Gilmer Hernandez, who also faces a long stretch in jail for protecting himself when a van-load of illegals tried to run him down. Johnnie Sutton has a hand in this one, too.

Meanwhile, the governor of Michigan is spearheading a plan to welcome illegals to that state to provide cheap labor. There will be advertisements in Mexico offering social services for the illegals who show up in Michigan. The program is called "Venga a Michigan!"

I've long known politicians have no shame. I am beginning to think we should take a stab at doing without all of them for a while. Or, better, throw all their corrupt asses in jail.

Or maybe we should all go on strike.

Sunday, February 18, 2007

I just can't do it...

...so I'll stop trying.

Instead of making continued (and ultimately deleted) attempts to explain why I feel one very small step away from total meltdown, I'll just post another cat photo taken during my walk today...



I like cats, and they seem to like me. No cat has ever betrayed my trust.

And that is all I have to say tonight. If I don't shut the hell up now, I may go off the rails completely.

Random out-for-a-walk photo...

Being close to the ocean can have undesirable effects....

GCotW

She must really feel like a Gratuitous Cat! Or at least she must wonder why her people need fake kittycats around when they have the Real Thing...

Saturday, February 17, 2007

Saturday afternoon...

...and it's 85 degrees. So, despite the hazy skies, seems like a good day to be out on the water...

Friday, February 16, 2007

Another good one from my email...

...which is simply too good not to share...


EMERGENCY ROOM

The other day, I needed to go to the emergency room.

Not wanting to sit there for 4 hours, I put on my old Army fatigues and stuck a patch that I had downloaded off the internet onto the front of my shirt.

When I went into the E.R., I noticed that 3/4 of the people got up and left. I guess they decided that they weren't that sick after all.

Here's the patch. Feel free to use it the next time you're in need of quicker emergency service.



It also works well if you ever have to use a Laundromat.

Nancy is happy tonight...

...because she and the rest of the unprincipled surrender monkeys in Congress got their way today, and delivered a symbolic slap on the wrist to George Bush. Now, they can start undercutting the military a step at a time, until we end up in another tail-between-our-legs debacle.

Once again, I say I am convinced that Bush is as big a fool -- and as pathetic a military strategist -- as anyone who ever occupied the White House. When it comes to the so-called "war on terror," he has messed up almost every way possible.

But there was something missing in the Democrats' posturing today: they babbled on incessantly about Bush's "failed" policy, and that I agree with. But they offered no constructive alternative. All they did, all they do, is complain.

This is my big gripe about politicians in general and Democrats in particular. They can talk in empty platitudes -- "peace," "health care for all," "an end to global warming" -- until hell freezes over, but when it comes time to offer genuine, constructive solutions, they're too busy posing for photos and raising campaign funds.

There is no problem facing this country that cannot be solved. But the remedies will not come from political hacks who have lobbyists and special-interest campaign contributors whispering in their ears. Nor will they come as long as political party loyalty is more important than loyalty to the citizens of this country.

Politics has become so inbred a game that the players have forgotten they are playing with human lives and the hard-won earnings of their constituents.

I am disgusted with George Bush. But I am equally disgusted with the posturing cowards in Congress. It is past time for all of them to be stripped of their power over us, past time for all of them to be held accountable for their greed and stupidity.

Thursday, February 15, 2007

I just don't understand...

...much of anything, when you get right down to it.

Congress, rushing to get away for its week-long version of our one-day holiday, is dead set on passing meaningless resolutions telling George Bush he blew it in Iraq, and they don't like it. But, of course, they "support the troops." They're also making a big point of waving their fingers at Bush while saying "don't you even think of attacking Iran!"

Of course they are also praising him for finally getting the message and coming to an "agreement" with North Korea, even though said agreement is phony as the proverbial three-dollar bill.

Even if you believe Bush has made a horrible mess of the whole Iraq thing -- and I do, believe me -- do you see something wrong in all this?

In a word: Vietnam.

We got into a bad situation there -- thank you, Ike and JFK, who started the whole ugly ball rolling -- and it was made worse by the antiwar movement's tactics. The North Vietnamese knew damn well that they didn't have to negotiate with the U.S.; they could see that Hanoi Jane Fonda, the antiwar members of Congress and the media were doing all the work for them.

Likewise, the terrorists in the Middle East, seeing history repeating itself, know that all they have to do is wait. Nancy Pelosi, John Murtha, John Kerry, the late Teddy Kennedy and the New York Times will ensure that they succeed.

We are, in essence, caught between a rock and a hard place, and the majority of the blame falls on George Bush, who had his personal, twisted reasons for going after Saddam Hussein. The bilge he spews about "bringing democracy" to Iraq and Afghanistan just doesn't wash.

But turning our backs on the situation now and running is sheer folly.

I would have some respect for Congress if they demanded something other than abject retreat. If they told Bush they wanted an end to the nonsense that included some real security for this nation, that would be laudable. Simply making political points by lining up to whine about Bush's idiotic behavior is cowardice, pure and simple.

A sizable percentage of the world understands only strength. They use "negotiations" to their advantage; they have no intention of living up to the promises our "civilized" government drones find meaningful.

This is the one thing Americans -- especially those who "represent" us in Washington -- do not understand. It is the equivalent of "negotiating" with a rabid dog. The dog may wag its tail, but will, in time, bite. That's its nature.

Kim Jong-Il is probably laughing tonight. So, wherever the hell he is, is Osama Bin Laden. Certainly, those who would strap explosives to their bodies are even now thinking about juicy new targets. All of them see weakness in Washington.

And so do I.

The votes in Congress are safe for those who want to run away from Bush's mess. They can, and will, blame him for the collapse of the situation, even though if they force a retreat, it will, in reality, be their fault.

I'm sorry to say it -- it perhaps says something not-too-nice about me -- but I am far more worried about the loss of an American life than I am about the Iraqis, Iranians and North Koreans. If a mushroom cloud over Tehran allows a single American to live who might otherwise die in a terrorist attack, so be it.

That drastic action would not be necessary if we negotiated from a position of strength, which is, despite the attempts of the anti-military forces in Congress, possible. It is the dream-stupefied fools in Washington -- whether in the White House, State Department or Congress -- who don't understand that.

Reversing the situation would involve reversing nearly 60 years of idiocy in Washington. From the Korean war to today, we have listened to the "voices of reason" who thought our enemies would respond positively to sweet reason and lots of monetary assistance. From the Korean war to today, we have ample proof that the course advocated by the fools in Washington is a failure.

My only hope is that we survive as a nation long enough to hold Bush, Pelosi, Murtha, Kerry, Kennedy, Clinton, McCain and the rest to account for their stupidity.

The only "death" I long for is the death of partisan politics when the security of our nation is involved.

Cat report...

Hobbes is home from the vet after a strenuous day of being sedated, x-rayed, poked and prodded and handled rather roughly.

He's fine...



...although from now on he will be getting a daily dose of fish oil to help keep his innards lubricated.

I should have asked the vet to give me a sedative, too. I'm no better at these things than the cat is.

He was amazingly good about it all, though, and has already forgiven me. Feeding him when we got back may have had something to do with it.

But he's home, and happy, and that's all that matters.

Wednesday, February 14, 2007

What do I have to do...

...to get out of this freekin' rut?

Today sucked. No other way to put it.

No need to write out the whole list. It's easier to tell you what didn't anger me today:

Wait, please. I'm thinking.

A couple of people sent nice cards and messages. Yeah. That was very nice, and much appreciated.

Otherwise, fugeddaboutit.

Tomorrow may suck, too. The cat might have to go to the vet if the meds I'm giving him tonight for his recurring digestive issues don't work. He's not in any distress right now (in fact, except for the evidence -- or lack thereof -- in the litter box, you'd never know things aren't fine with him), but I'm not going to let this go to the point where it hurts him or puts him at any risk.

In the meantime, my own internal organs aren't all that happy. Stress does that to me.

But that is another story I don't feel like getting into.

A note about tomorrow...

...made up, in part, of comments I have left in other journals.

First, I have decided that February 13th and 15th will each be extended by 12 hours so they meet at what would ordinarily be considered "noon" on the day in between.

And I declare the day whose date I will no longer mention as "National Make Lonely People Feel Like Shit Day."

Twelve months ago, while in something of a financial crisis, I spent everything I had (save a few bucks budgeted for cat food) on a present and flowers. This year, I am in an equally depressing state money-wise (thank you, Clients X, Y and Z) but have no one for whom I wish to deplete my bank account.

That should be an occasion for feeling some relief, but it isn't. Nothing would make me happier than to be rolling pennies to buy gifts for the one I love. Even though she no longer gives a damn about me....

I've been reading that a study conducted in Greece suggests that taking an after-lunch siesta reduces the risk of catastrophic medical problems.

I may try an extended siesta tomorrow. One that lasts until, say, Thursday.

And that's the way it is tonight, fellow babies....

The next time we see mushroom clouds...

...you can thank the wacked-out lefties to whom George Bush, political whore extraordinaire, is now kowtowing.

The New York Times -- which has never met an appeaser it didn't like -- is crowing that Bush is finally taking its advice and is talking to the North Koreans instead of threatening them.

It, like other liberal media and politicians, hails today's "agreement" with North Korea. If only we talk, hold hands and sing "kumbaya," all will be well.

So I thought, just for the hell of it, I'd check out what the North Korean News Agency had to say about the "step toward peace" taken today. I have added boldface emphasis to the comments for the few lefties who read what I say....

Beijing, February 13 (KCNA) -- The third phase of the fifth round of the six-party talks took place in Beijing from February 8 to 13.

The talks that proceeded in a sincere atmosphere discussed the ways of denuclearizing the Korean Peninsula.

At the talks the parties decided to offer economic and energy aid equivalent to one million tons of heavy fuel oil in connection with the DPRK's temporary suspension of the operation of its nuclear facilities.

And the DPRK and the United States agreed to solve their pending issues and kick off the bilateral talks aimed at opening full diplomatic ties.

At the just-concluded talks the parties agreed to have the sixth round of the six-party talks in the future.


In other words, we gave away the store again, just as Bubba Clinton did when he signed a "treaty" with the North Koreans.

We never learn. Sometimes, the way to solve problems does not involve bribery and give-aways to buy "peace." It requires a will to impose honest behavior on the other side.

Which, once again, we have not done.

Theodore Roosevelt was famous for suggesting that we needed to "speak softly and carry a big stick." Today, George Bush -- and Nancy Pelosi, John Murtha, Teddy Kennedy, John Kerry and the rest of the blind fools in Washington -- have spoken softly with no desire to follow through with the "big stick" when necessary.

When the inevitable disaster happens, you can blame our so-called "leaders" as much as the terrorists overseas.

Tuesday, February 13, 2007

We know who you work for, George W...

...and it's not for us.

WorldNet Daily, one of the few media outlets with the guts to hold the government accountable for the persecution of Border Patrol agents Ignacio Ramos and Jose Compean, reports an unsurprising -- but still unacceptable -- part of the story in this article.

The first two paragraphs pretty well sum it up:

The Mexican Consulate demanded the prosecution of Texas Sheriff's Deputy Guillermo "Gilmer" Hernandez, who subsequently was brought to trial by U.S. Attorney Johnny Sutton, according to documents obtained by WND.

WND also has learned the Mexican Consulate played a previously undisclosed role in the events leading to Sutton's high-profile prosecution of Border Patrol Agents Ignacio Ramos and Jose Compean, who are serving 11 and 12 year sentences for their role in the shooting of a drug smuggler.


When Mexico talks, George Bush listens, and then sets his unprincipled attack dogs loose to punish American citizens who work to uphold the laws he doesn't believe in.

One has to wonder what his payoff for kowtowing to the corrupt politicians in Mexico City will be.

There is no need to wonder what his atrocious open-borders policies are for us: You can see it broken down by the numbers here.

Of course Compean, Ramos and Hernandez are paying a much heavier price.

Monday, February 12, 2007

I seldom post things I get in email....

...but this one is simply too good to ignore!

One sunny day in 2009, an old man approached the White House from across Pennsylvania Ave, where he'd been sitting on a park bench. He spoke to the Marine standing guard and said, "I would like to go in and meet with President Hillary Clinton."

The Marine replied, "Sir, Mrs. Clinton is not President and doesn't reside here." The old man said, "Okay," and walked away.

The following day, the same man approached the White House and said to the same Marine, "I would like to go in and meet with President Hillary Clinton".

The Marine again told the man, "Sir, as I said yesterday, Mrs. Clinton is not President and doesn't reside here." The man thanked him and again walked away . . .

The third day, the same man approached the White House and spoke to the very same Marine, saying "I would like to go in and meet with President Hillary Clinton ."

The Marine, understandably agitated at this point, looked at the man and said, "Sir, this is the third day in a row you have been here asking to speak to Mrs. Clinton. I've told you already several times that Mrs. Clinton is not the President and doesn't reside here. Don't you understand?"

The old man answered, "Oh, I understand you fine, I just love hearing your answer!"

The Marine snapped to attention, saluted, and said, "See you tomorrow."

The travesty continues...

...as more and more information surfaces that exposes the full extent of the criminality in the case of Jose Campean and Ignacio Ramos.

As before, the criminal activity was all in George Bush's Departments of Homeland "Security" and "Justice," where agents of Bush's open-borders, pro-Mexico agenda falsified information, lied, and continued to lie even in front of a congressional committee.

First, as recounted in this news story, three of the Border Patrol agents who were given immunity from prosecution in exchange for testifying against Compean and Ramos, have been given the sack. Why? Because they lied under oath.

That should be grounds for throwing out Ramos and Compean's convictions all by itself.

And then, there's this story dealing with agent Rene Sanchez, who was the first to drop a dime on Ramos and Compean and appears to have a most cozy relationship with the illegal-alien drug smuggler involved.

As the facts continue to emerge, George Bush's lame assertions about the case become more and more pathetic.

And a suspicion that the worst possible (and most bizarre) reason for railroading two agents who were enforcing our laws may be true is getting stronger: throughout this case, it seems more and more likely that the tune is being called by the Mexican drug cartel that employed the illegal-alien smuggler.

It certainly seems possible that the druggies have corrupted Rene Sanchez. But the trial and the hideous mishandling of evidence -- the chain of evidence was broken with the van and its load of grass, the illegal's cell phone has vanished without anyone checking the numbers stored in it, the bullet from the illegal's butt was mishandled, and the illegal himself was treated with more consideration than Compean and Ramos -- it seems more than possible the drug cartel's influence reaches higher than one Border Patrol agent.

How high? I have my suspicions.

Even those not directly involved have much to answer for. A few members of Congress have tried to work on Compean and Ramos's behalf, but the majority go blithely on, unconcerned about this hideous miscarriage of justice. I can understand why Ted Kennedy has no concern about violations of the law, but what about all the other self-righteous blowhards in D.C.?

They can't all be taking payoffs from the Mexican druggies....

Or can they?

For even more, go here.

Sunday, February 11, 2007

Self-analysis or...

...an admonition to the rest of us?



In other news, as reported here:

SANTA FE -- New Mexico has taken its fight against drunken driving to men's restrooms around the state.

The state has ordered 500 talking urinal cakes that will deliver a recorded anti-DWI message to bar and restaurant patrons who make one last pit stop before getting behind the wheel.

The top of the devices feature the state DWI slogan -- "You drink, you drive, you lose."

Some Albuquerque bars installed the devices this week.

The cakes have enough battery power to last about three months.


I would think a urinal that talks to you would sober you up right quick! Or maybe make you feel you need another couple of shots....

GCotW

They're everywhere, especially after the sun goes down, and they're watching...

Saturday, February 10, 2007

You might be wondering why...

...I've called you all here.

I will begin by admitting it was done under false pretenses.

I'm not going to write a damn thing about what I'm thinking. I've tried, believe me; I've deleted three entries before finishing them. And that was only in the last hour. I had a rich lineup of headliners: Nancy Pelosi, Anna Nicole Smith and astronaut Lisa Marie Nowak, plus a supporting cast of thousands.

Hundreds, anyway. Well, dozens....

To be precise, the entry that came closest to making it to completion mentioned four other names.

Instead, I have decided to mention no names tonight.

Nothing has changed, except that my understanding of what goes on around me has diminished, if that's possible. My view of humanity in general has, if possible, continued to worsen.

Those things are bad enough to dissuade me from saying anything.

Good night.

Flight...

Friday, February 09, 2007

Continuing sublimation...

...as I replace the words I want to say -- but can't seem to put down in any coherent manner -- with a couple of photos taken this afternoon.

First, a beautiful flower I've never seen before...



And then, a bonus Gratuitous Cat...



I'm not especially happy with the people whose actions affect my life right now.

Things definitely aren't working out the way I planned, Jim.

Nice weather for...

...yeah, you know...



The weekend forecast calls for a good chance of rain. That's fine with me. I have to make myself work Saturday and Sunday, as a couple of deadlines have been moved up.

I'd probably be more enthusiastic if I didn't know the payoff for this is three months in the future.

And I'd probably be more enthusiastic if...no, never mind.

Nothing changes.

Thursday, February 08, 2007

Lost in a fog...

...for most of the day. There were moments when light seemed to be getting through but, in the end, nothing happened...



I have decided to shorten this month for the sake of my sanity. At 28 days, February is already the most abbreviated month, but I've decided to truncate it further.

February 14th is gone.

Vanished. Poof. No more.

The final straw was a reminder from a place where I purchased a Valentine's Day gift last year. They just couldn't resist letting me know I'd spent some money with them twelve months ago, just in case I wanted to do so again.

On top of all the advertising meant to ramp up the purchase of candies, cards, teddy bears, flowers, lingerie, etc., etc., etc., that was simply too damn much.

PARENTHETICAL SIGH-OF-RELIEF THOUGHT: At least the florist where I dropped some cash last 2/14 seems not to be firmly connected to the computer age. I haven't yet had a note from them asking if I'd like to send out another bunch of orchids....

The answer to all these appeals is, and will be, no. I do not want to spend a nickel on your freekin' "holiday." No candy, no flowers, no cards, no slinky apparel, no expressions of love. They'd be a waste of effort.

When neither one of the two women whom I might consider treating to such goodies gives a rat's ass whether I love them or not -- or, to be blunt, whether I exist or not -- it seems a wasted effort. I'm reasonably certain both will be getting plenty of 2/14 lovin' from my replacements. In one case, it's deserved.

I certainly don't want to deprive those who still enjoy the ritual, and have someone to share it with. I'm not starting a movement to excise 2/14 from everyone's calendars.

I will simply snap off the lights on Feb. 13th, and not turn them on again until the 15th.

Wednesday, February 07, 2007

The national shame gets worse...

...as more facts come out about the persecution of Border Patrol agents Ignacio Ramos and Jose Compean.

Here is some of the latest news.

The lede of Jerome Corsi's story pretty much sums it up:

A Department of Homeland Security official admitted today the agency misled Congress when it contended it possessed investigative reports proving Border Patrol agents Ignacio Ramos and Jose Compean confessed guilt and declared they "wanted to shoot some Mexicans" prior to the incident that led to their imprisonment.

The admission came during the testimony of DHS Inspector General Richard L. Skinner before the Homeland Security Subcommittee of the House Appropriations Committee, according to Michael Green, press secretary for Rep. John Culberson, R-Texas.


Further, ...[in a meeting with Texas Congressmen some months ago] the DHS Inspector General's office asserted it had documentary evidence Ramos and Compean:

1. confessed to knowingly shooting at an unarmed suspect;

2. stated during the interrogation they did not believe the suspect was a threat to them at the time of the shooting;

3. stated that day they "wanted to shoot a Mexican";

4. were belligerent to investigators;

5. destroyed evidence and lied to investigators.

Under questioning by Culberson, Skinner admitted DHS did not in fact have investigative reports to back up the claims: "The person who told you that misinformed you," Skinner reportedly replied.


In other words, Skinner and his minions lied.

This adds to the lies told by persecutor Johnny Sutton and his attack dog, Debra Kanof. During the trial, Kanof lied about -- as Sutton did later -- the regulations governing the responsibilities of Compean and Ramos to report the shooting incident. Unfortunately, the defense attorneys seem to have been incapable of challenging Kanof's untruths.

All of this leads to a bigger question: these people, corrupt as they may be, had no reason to weave a web of lies unless given orders to do so from above.

It seems all too clear who called the shots: George W. Bush, the open-borders advocate who has shown no indication that he values the lives of Americans or respects the laws that are supposed to govern us.

One reporter who attended today's session of the Congressional hearing into this debacle claims a Congressman Dana Rohrbacher said, in essence, that if either Ramos or Compean happened to lose their lives while in prison, impeachment proceedings against Bush would begin the very next day.

I say: why wait? In fact, while we're at it, why not impeach the corrupt enablers in Congress -- Pelosi, Kennedy and the rest of that crowd -- who have remained silent primarily because it makes their pro-illegal-alien, open-borders agenda look like the sham it is?

And why are Skinner, Sutton, Kanof and the rest of Bush's lackeys still in their jobs and not in jail now?

If it weren't for a very few journalists and members of Congress who have spoken out, the persecution of Ramos and Compean would have gone unnoticed. Certainly, the New York Times, Los Angeles Times and other major newspapers have ignored the story, for the same reasons the political hacks have.

I feel nothing but contempt for everyone involved. All of them have made the United States look like the lawless, third-world country Bush seems determined to make of what was once an honorable nation.

I smell a rat...

...in the debate about global warming.

While I am quite sure mankind has had an adverse effect on the planet, and believe taking steps to reverse some of the damage is in order, I am also beginning to think there is a hidden agenda on the part of those crying most loudly for immediate, drastic action.

Consider the statements being made with increasing frequency that urge the dismissal or silencing of scientists who don't follow the global warming party line 100%. Consider the European Union -- that ultimate socialistic nanny-state -- and its current push to pass and enforce laws relating to "environmental crime."

And definitely consider the hypocrisy of those who rant most loudly about the need for "sacrifices" while they continue to live in oversized mansions, ride around in squadrons of giant SUVs and use private jets to dash from one celebrity-ridden "save the planet" event to another.

Does this perhaps suggest that claims made by those most adamant about the human role in global warming are not as clear and quantifiable as they would like? And does it suggest that certain targeted nations and groups will be called up to "make sacrifices" while others will not?

After all, the prime element in leadership is leading by example. If you yourself do not lead a clean, low-consumption lifestyle, you have neither the right nor the status to impose restrictions on others.

And if you must insist that those who disagree with your ideas must be silenced, logic suggests your ideas cannot stand on their own merits.

Science advances when conclusions are tested, judged harshly and proven. The fact that some UN-supported scientists have decided they are right and everyone else is wrong cuts no ice with me.

If their claims are indeed true, then all nations, without exception, must take part in the cleanup. Forget "developing nations," "carbon taxes" and "pollution credits." All of us make the sacrifices and changes necessary. It's that simple.

I have no doubt we should all clean up the pollution-creating aspects of our lifestyles as much as possible. But doing it based on the orders of agenda-driven governments and nanny-state organizations is anathema to any intelligent person.

When you don't expect anything...

...you can't be disappointed.

No better example of that than the recent "revolution" in Congress. Out, out damned scandals! We The People are back in control, and those evil, greedy Republicans have been swept aside. No we can expect all those Good Things we were promised.

And boyoboy, is there action going on back in D.C., or what?

What would you suppose is the current big concern of that caring, sweet granny, Voice of The People Nancy Pelosi? Is she working overtime pushing for relief for average Americans from the burdens of wasteful federal spending, illegal immigration and other lunatic government policies?

Uhhhh...no. Her latest obsession is reported here.

She is demanding use of an Air Force plane -- a large one, mind you -- to carry her, her staff, family, cronies and political supporters back and forth between Washington and San Francisco when the urge to travel strikes. Her predecessor, a corrupt, greedy Republican, used a small Air Force commuter plane for his back-and-forth trips.

I guess the Constitutional quirk that puts her two heartbeats from the presidency makes her think she is entitled to her own, only slightly downsized version of Air Force One.

I always love watching a true Populist in action, one who really gets involved in the important stuff.

Tuesday, February 06, 2007

I know you're getting tired of this...

...but if George Bush's government can do this to two Americans who were trying to protect their nation against an illegal-alien drug smuggler, you or I might be next as Bush pursues his pro-illegal-alien agenda.

Read this.

Here's the lede from the story: A Department of Homeland Security official admitted today the agency misled Congress when it contended it possessed investigative reports proving Border Patrol agents Ignacio Ramos and Jose Compean confessed guilt and declared they "wanted to shoot some Mexicans" prior to the incident that led to their imprisonment.

It is time -- past time -- to impeach Bush, the lackey of corrupt politicians South of the border, and to see officials of the DHS, the Department of "Justice" and Johnny Sutton and Debra Kanof thrown in jail.

This is not the United States. It is some third-world banana republic where those who break the law have precedence over those who follow the law.

I feel better...

...since I've learned that the inexplicable female behavior that has -- shall we say -- messed with my head is only the tip of the proverbial iceberg. Even astronauts, educated and trained to a fine edge, can act is if their mental circuits aren't all wired up properly.

Consider Lisa Marie Nowak, A Navy Captain and astronaut with flight time in the Space Shuttle. The 43 year-old Ms Nowak, married with three children, seems to have gotten the hots for another astronaut, Cmdr William Oeferlein, who is unmarried and apparently is in a relationship with another astronaut, one Colleen Shipman.

Distressed with the situation, Nowak jumped in her car and drove 900 miles (wearing a diaper to cut down on the need for stops along the way, according to some reports) from Houston to the Orlando (FL) Airport to confront Ms Shipman.

Unfortunately, Nowak had a can of pepper spray -- which she used on Ms Shipman -- and a BB gun, a steel mallet, a 4- inch folding knife, rubber tubing, $600 and garbage bags inside a bag when she showed up to discuss the situation with Shipman. Nowak has been arrested for kidnapping and attempted first-degree murder.

Fellow astronaut Chris Ferguson said he was "perplexed" by Nowak's alleged actions.

That's a nice way of putting it....

If you haven't read the rest of the details already, you can find most of them here or here.

Up to now I thought Gavin Newsome was going to be the champion in the Total Wack-job sweepstakes. Lisa Marie has him beat seven ways from Sunday.

More lies...

...even as the Department of "Justice" issues a press release downplaying the assault on Border Patrol Agent Ignacio Ramos at a federal prison in Mississippi.

One of the few reporters with the courage to investigate the continuing lies of federal persecutors Johnny Sutton and Debra Kanof, the Inland Valley Daily Bulletin's Sara A. Carter, has turned up even more evidence that Sutton and Kanof are guilty of perjury in this story.

Perjury is a felony, punishable by imprisonment in a federal prison.

If, as I believe, Sutton and Kanof were acting on orders from above to railroad Ramos and Jose Compean, those who gave the orders are guilty of conspiracy to commit a felony, which is itself a felony.

Bush's lie that any pardon for Compean and Ramos "has to go through the process" is not a felony; it's just another one of his stupid, easily refutable lies.

It would be easy to infer that Sutton and Kanof, if not Bush himself, are being influenced in some way by the Mexican drug cartel for which the illegal-alien drug smuggler was working.

I'm not ready to believe that. Yet.

The Ignacio Ramos assault...

...which occurred on Saturday night, is fully described here.

In the article, Monica Ramos recounts a phone call she received from her husband: "[he said]...they kept kicking and kicking. And they kept calling him in Spanish a **** immigration officer, saying 'darle, darle,' which means, 'give it to him.' They were cussing him out in Spanish. He couldn't fight back he was outnumbered."

According to [Joe] Loya, Ramos's father-in-law, Ramos also said of the attack: "They kicked me in the head, they kicked me all over the body. I'm all bruised and very sore."

"As of the time we talked this afternoon, the prison still hadn't given him any medical treatment," Monica Ramos said, adding that he told her, "'I asked all day yesterday. I’m in a lot of pain and I have blood coming out of my left ear.'"

Ramos told his wife the only reason the prison was letting him call her on Monday, was because the Congress [in the person of Rep. Dana Rohrbacher] intervened, otherwise he wouldn't have been permitted any calls at all.

With every passing day, George Bush and his lapdogs in the government have more and more to answer for.

And where are the howls of outrage? The P.O.W.s at Guantanamo Bay are treated like royalty compared to two American citizens who were trying to enforce the nation's laws by arresting an illegal-alien drug smuggler.

The hypocrisy of the "open-borders" crowd is all too apparent. It's bad enough when they are willing to sacrifice the jobs and savings of Americans to satisfy their buddies South of the border. Now, clearly, they are willing to sacrifice the health and, I'm afraid, lives of Americans to suit their twisted agenda.

Also read here.

Monday, February 05, 2007

It's almost dark now...

...but not long ago, it was sunset...

Crime on top of injustice...

...in the case of Border Patrol agents Ignacio Ramos and Jose Compean.

According to Ramos's father-in-law, Joe Loya, Ramos was badly beaten this morning by inmates at the federal prison in Mississippi where he is serving his sentence for the "crime" of trying to apprehend an illegal-alien drug smuggler.

Several hours after being assaulted, Ramos had not yet received medical attention for his injuries. As of now, he has not been treated.

Contrast that with the way George Bush's Department of "Justice" fawned all over the illegal-alien drug smuggler, getting him, among other things, free first-class treatment (at taxpayer expense) in an American hospital for his bullet wound. A wound which, by the way, did not stop him from hauling tail back across the border and has never been proven to have been inflicted by a bullet from the agents' weapons. The ballistics tests on the bullet proved only that the bullet could have come from one of several makes of weapons.

I don't understand how Bush, Johnny Sutton, Deborah Kanof and the rest of the get-Compean-and-Ramos lynch mob can sleep at night.

I do know where they should be sleeping: in the place where Ramos and Compean do not deserve to be.

It is time for Bush to clean up his act -- no matter how angry it makes his masters South of the border -- and end this farce before the tragedy is compounded.

Sunday, February 04, 2007

Strange Sunday night thoughts...

...at the end of another wasted weekend.

Well, I got a little bit of work done, posted pictures of cats and plane crashes and ranted semi-coherently about light bulbs...so how can I call it wasted?

Easy. All those things were part of the continual process of sublimation, which cannot go on indefinitely.

Aside from the normal total lack of money, the normal shortage of people who behave honorably toward me, the normal total lack of anyone with whom to share my tiny patch of the planet, the normal thoughts about someone I should never allow myself to think about and the normal total lack of worthwhile distractions from items 1-4, I guess I could say things are just freekin' dandy.

I ran across an interview with a performer who has had his battles with heroin. Strange stuff, horse. I've never tried it -- it is, at least for the most part, a rich person's drug -- but I've known a few people who got hooked on duji, and it really messed up their lives.

Funny thing: though they are quick to proclaim that living clean is better -- and a couple have managed to get off and stay off -- they still get that faraway, wistful look on their faces when they try to describe the stone they got from it.

I remember talking to a jazz musician friend -- who, to my certain knowledge, never did anything heavier than puff a little pot in the long-distant past -- who had nothing good to say about the white powder. Even so, he would sometimes say, "man, Miles did that sh*t, and Ray Charles, and they really knew how to lay down sounds...."

How did I get off onto this riff? I mean, I know hard drugs are nowhere. Lenny Bruce took the big fall after shooting a heavy load of smack; so did some other major-league people. I've never even seen the stuff. And I doubt I could stick a needle in my arm for any reason.

Okay, here it comes: I'm basically your addictive sort of guy. When I'm into something, I'm into it right down the line. Examples: when I started digging music I was into it solidly, and still am. I was handed a camera, and haven't been far away from one ever since. The first time I cracked 100 mph in a car (I was 17), I was hooked; I needed a taste of 150 (I was in my late 30s when I got there) and then had to feel the rush of 200....

Those are socially acceptable (maybe not the speed-thing) and no one would ever tell me to put 'em down.

But I had to get to my current age to develop my serious addiction. Like someone hooked on dope, I was promised the Ultimate High, the system-wide buzz that would carry me out somewhere beyond the moon. I didn't even have to sacrifice for it; it would make all my other cravings so much more intense, so much better when they were fulfilled....

The one about whom I should not think is my jones. From the first taste, I was hooked, needed the mainline dose. And I still do.

It doesn't matter that it didn't last any longer than a good shot of duji. It doesn't matter that other fools fell (and are still falling) for the untrustworthy seductive lure of that high, too. All that matters is that I'm hooked, and I need a taste, right now....

Love is the ugliest drug of all.

I was forced to drop that stone cold-turkey, and the withdrawal symptoms are pure everlasting hell, Jim.

GCotW

Sometimes I walk miles to find the week's Gratuitous Cat.

And sometimes, I find him on the stairway outside my front door....

Update on a bad landing...

...as reported by a local newspaper.

The picture (mine) shows a very damp 1940 Waco biplane after its 82 year-old pilot (an ex-airline captain) tried to set it down on the beach. He collided with a Stearman biplane of similar vintage; the impact was minor enough that the pilot of the Stearman, as previously mentioned, managed to land it at a local airport.

When the Waco hit the sand, its wheels caught and it flipped. The LAFD got it upright in a hurry, trying to minimize fuel and oil spillage...



I suspect the dude flying the Waco is a pretty good stick; I've seen him around here before. But I think screwing around in ways that bring two aircraft close enough to collide, especially in an area where the landing choices are either wet or heavily populated, is not particularly smart.

Saturday, February 03, 2007

Reason #72,867 why...

...I am convinced we should put all elected officials on a ship -- liberally (oops! bad word!) stocked with food and booze, of course -- and send them off on a 20-year cruise to Somewhere Else:

California Assemblyman Lloyd Levine has introduced a bill to ban the sale of incandescent light bulbs -- the most common light bulbs in the world -— in the state by 2012. Appropriately enough, his bill is called the How Many Legislators Does it Take to Change a Light Bulb Act.

There are two ways to look at this: either Mr Levine is a raving loon who needs to have a tranquilizer dart shot into his flank or, worse, he is sincere.

In the interests of full disclosure, I must tell you hate fluorescent lights with a passion that borders on hysteria. Not only does their light make most people look like they should be stretched out on a coroner's slab, but they flicker at a frequency that aggravates a strange eye condition I have suffered from since birth.

But Mr Levine is convinced that changing over to fluorescent lights will reduce energy consumption and thus slow the onset of the Dreaded Global Warming.

As dey say in Noo Yawk: Skrooom.

If we are serious about cutting back on misused energy, let's cut the power lines to Sacramento. And Washington, D.C., while we're at it. Do that, and the rest of us can go hog-wild with our electricity use and there will still be a major decrease in consumption.

Yes, I understand why the rancheros in government don't have the huevos to deal with the things that would really make the biggest difference in the environment if they're so freekin' worried that the ice caps are about to melt. They can't do that, because it would upset their buddies who keep their campaign funds full and will give them cushy no-show jobs when they are finally yanked out of office.

You know, basic stuff: get Al Gore out of his 20,000 square-foot house and off those private jets he uses to go around the world whining about "greenhouse gases." Make politicos junk their SUVs and ride around in electric golf carts. Shut down the Government Printing Office, which I suspect uses up something like one forest a week to keep it in paper. Close down the UN. In other words, useful things.

Me? I have to go out and stock up on 100-watt Soft Whites now.

Making a splash...

...the hard way!

A half-hour ago, I heard a couple of airplanes outside, then silence. Not unusual; pilots love to practice aerobatics off the coast, or engage in mock dogfights (which seems an incredibly dumb idea to me), and other noises sometimes drown out the sound of their engines.

What was unusual was the next sound, that of dozens of fire trucks heading down to the beach...



Where, after an apparent mid-air collision, one of the planes had screwed itself into the sand...



The pilot of this one walked away from it. No one seems quite sure what happened to the other plane, though I have since heard a radio report of a plane crashing along the coast several miles from here.

Never a dull moment Where The Ghetto Meets The Sea!

And never a shortage of pilots who suffer attacks of brain fade, it seems....

LATER: Ninety minutes later, the "news copters" are still circling the scene getting their "breaking news" video. It's getting annoying. The latest news update is that the second plane made it safely back to a local airport.