Joseph Farah's current column sheds more light on the birth certificate issue:
The one and only document expert consulted by any U.S. media to proclaim Barack Obama's "birth certificate" as legitimate has rejected that position, claiming he was misquoted by Fox News. He has further stated that Fox refuses to answer his demand for a correction.
Tremblay told WND none of his comments to Fox would permit the conclusion that the Obama birth certificate is an authentic document.
Isn't that interesting? The one person trotted out by Fox News in Obama's favor now says that the reporter twisted his words and won't air a retraction or a clarification. Sounds like everything's copacetic to me.
Farah continues:
Meanwhile, every document expert WND has conferred with scoffs at the preposterous notion that the document is somehow valid on its face. Many of them are willing to stake their credentials and their professional judgment on the fact that the birth certificate offered up by the White House is as phony as a three-dollar bill. Others confide their belief there are serious problems with the document but don't desire to cross swords with the most powerful office in the world. (emphasis added)
So not one expert has appeared on Fox News, CNN, NBC, ABC, CBS, MSNBC, EIEIO, Al Jasmearya or any other major news network touting the legitimacy of Obama's birth certificate. No one has appeared on tv next to a grinning blonde manniquin in a mini skirt. No one has said, "Speaking in my professional capacity as a government document and/or printing expert, let me assure the citizens of these fifty-seven Disunited States that Obama's long-form birth certificate is the real McCoy. He did not get it as an added bonus while ordering Sea Monkeys from the back of Grit magazine. He didn't create the document with a clerk's help at Kinko's. He did not have it airmailed from Kenya or Shangri-la. He did not consult Alex Jones and wade through a tutorial on the proper crafting of a conspiracy. It's the genuine article, and I would stake my sterling reputation on its authenticity. It has the verity of verisimilitude. Vote Obama in 2012."
In related news an Adobe expert weighs in:
"I could have done a much better replica myself, if the president had asked," Poyssick told The Political Sandbox blog when the birth certificate first appeared and he opened the document in Adobe Illustrator. "The guy that did this is a bimbo in that he forgot to 'flatten' his works to soften the background edges so the fake letters blended, softly into the green paper.
Scrutinizing the media cartel's behavior has led me to the conclusion that no genuine interest in the truth exists. More to the point, the media's actions throughout the birth certificate controversy smack of efforts at burying the truth, not ferreting it out for the American people's benefit.
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Peter Falk: R.I.P.
Peter Falk has passed away. He was 83.
I enjoyed him in the role of Columbo. I found the character's eccentricity appealing. I also liked his acting in everything I've seen him in -- from television to the big screen.
It's a shame that we've lost another fine actor, one from the good old days, as it were.
I enjoyed him in the role of Columbo. I found the character's eccentricity appealing. I also liked his acting in everything I've seen him in -- from television to the big screen.
It's a shame that we've lost another fine actor, one from the good old days, as it were.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Will the Last Chirping Cricket to Leave Please Turn Off the Lights?
Sitemeter tells me that I had 69 visitors to my blog in the past week -- more than a fifty percent decrease from a few weeks back.
That's sixty-nine.
LXIX.
60 + 9.
I will not have my blog identified with Lady GAG-a's favorite number.
Now, some might attribute this drop off to my having posted nothing since June fourth, but I know better. The inactivity of a cold and windswept moor is no excuse for not clicking that link at least five times daily.
Something's rotten in the state of Blogmark.
I blame the gaiety of children -- those mischievous little hobgoblins with a penchant for teeter-totters and merry-go-rounds.
I blame fresh air -- the noxious stuff -- and the cloying emanations from spring flowers.
I blame those stingered buzzers bumbling around their petally crowns.
I blame warbling little winged imps dive-bombing me from the trees as they sing odes of joy.
I blame sunshine -- Aie! how it burns -- and dogs slobbering for a walk through suburbs peopled by Mexicans thirty to a house.
I blame spring break -- what a crummy idea. I thought the whole point of school was letting some faceless cog of the machine raise those little demons. Now you're voluntarily keeping them underfoot for a week? Yecch! I hope you have a T.V. It's somewhat more impersonal than a state drone, but it gets the job done.
I blame employment. Keeping up with the Ahmadenijihads and the Velasquezes and the Shamalamawopbabaloobopawopbamboomaputras. I asked my neighbor what he thought about this problem, and he just stared at me with a baffled expression and said, "Que?"
I've always had difficulty communicating with my fellow man. Que sera sera.
I blame unemployment. After all, how are you supposed to comment or visit blogs if you can't pay your phone and ISP bill? Of course, you can go next door and use Gonzalo's computer, but I realize it's not the same. Thirty's company, but thirty-one's a crowd.
So I think there's a fair chance that if you're reading this right now, I can say "God bless the public liberry."
I blame porn -- the expected stuff, and the off-the-meds whacked out junk like midget, clown, Smurf, tentacular, frilled lizard, and Care Bear porn proclivities. Just ugh, you guys.
I blame alien abductions -- both the illegal human variety, and the extraterrestrial Grays and Burnt Siennas and Anunnaki or whatever else they're calling themselves this week. Close Encounters of the Most Unkind.
I blame Our Serengeti Savior. Too Serengeti. Not enough Savior. You knew I'd work this in here somehow. And his birth certificate's as authentic as a pimp whispering sweet nothings in Bambi's ear.
Crap you can believe in.
Last, I blame the news cycle. There's little going on in the world, besides the Qulling of Qadaffy. Or the Idolization of Iraq. Or the Afghanistan Asininity. Or the Economic Extinction Event. Or the Pulchritudinous Pageantry of Politics. Or the Gushing about Goody Gingrich and the Guidance of her Groovy Gigolo Groom Gnewt. How Gauche of me.
Nope. Instead, the "news" story that has carried the last week or two is a rags to riches story. Part One was known as the Waxing of the Weiner. With his announced resignation from the House of
Rep-uh-zentitives, we have come to Part Two of this riveting two-part saga: The Waning of the Weiner. Wax on, wax off, as Mr. Miyagi warned with terse eloquence. This truism applies to the washing of cars, the phases of the moon, or the political career of a six-foot Germanic sausage.
Confucius didn't hold a candle.
That's sixty-nine.
LXIX.
60 + 9.
I will not have my blog identified with Lady GAG-a's favorite number.
Now, some might attribute this drop off to my having posted nothing since June fourth, but I know better. The inactivity of a cold and windswept moor is no excuse for not clicking that link at least five times daily.
Something's rotten in the state of Blogmark.
I blame the gaiety of children -- those mischievous little hobgoblins with a penchant for teeter-totters and merry-go-rounds.
I blame fresh air -- the noxious stuff -- and the cloying emanations from spring flowers.
I blame those stingered buzzers bumbling around their petally crowns.
I blame warbling little winged imps dive-bombing me from the trees as they sing odes of joy.
I blame sunshine -- Aie! how it burns -- and dogs slobbering for a walk through suburbs peopled by Mexicans thirty to a house.
I blame spring break -- what a crummy idea. I thought the whole point of school was letting some faceless cog of the machine raise those little demons. Now you're voluntarily keeping them underfoot for a week? Yecch! I hope you have a T.V. It's somewhat more impersonal than a state drone, but it gets the job done.
I blame employment. Keeping up with the Ahmadenijihads and the Velasquezes and the Shamalamawopbabaloobopawopbamboomaputras. I asked my neighbor what he thought about this problem, and he just stared at me with a baffled expression and said, "Que?"
I've always had difficulty communicating with my fellow man. Que sera sera.
I blame unemployment. After all, how are you supposed to comment or visit blogs if you can't pay your phone and ISP bill? Of course, you can go next door and use Gonzalo's computer, but I realize it's not the same. Thirty's company, but thirty-one's a crowd.
So I think there's a fair chance that if you're reading this right now, I can say "God bless the public liberry."
I blame porn -- the expected stuff, and the off-the-meds whacked out junk like midget, clown, Smurf, tentacular, frilled lizard, and Care Bear porn proclivities. Just ugh, you guys.
I blame alien abductions -- both the illegal human variety, and the extraterrestrial Grays and Burnt Siennas and Anunnaki or whatever else they're calling themselves this week. Close Encounters of the Most Unkind.
I blame Our Serengeti Savior. Too Serengeti. Not enough Savior. You knew I'd work this in here somehow. And his birth certificate's as authentic as a pimp whispering sweet nothings in Bambi's ear.
Crap you can believe in.
Last, I blame the news cycle. There's little going on in the world, besides the Qulling of Qadaffy. Or the Idolization of Iraq. Or the Afghanistan Asininity. Or the Economic Extinction Event. Or the Pulchritudinous Pageantry of Politics. Or the Gushing about Goody Gingrich and the Guidance of her Groovy Gigolo Groom Gnewt. How Gauche of me.
Nope. Instead, the "news" story that has carried the last week or two is a rags to riches story. Part One was known as the Waxing of the Weiner. With his announced resignation from the House of
Rep-uh-zentitives, we have come to Part Two of this riveting two-part saga: The Waning of the Weiner. Wax on, wax off, as Mr. Miyagi warned with terse eloquence. This truism applies to the washing of cars, the phases of the moon, or the political career of a six-foot Germanic sausage.
Confucius didn't hold a candle.
Saturday, June 4, 2011
James Arness, R.I.P.
James Arness has died.
I remember him as the hulking creature from The Thing from Another World (1951). He also played in a great little gem of a science fiction movie about giant killer ants called Them! (1954). However, most people recall him in the role of Marshall Matthew Dillon on the television show, Gunsmoke (1955 - 1975).
He appeared in a handful of films with his friend John Wayne in the 1950s.
Mr. Arness passed away in his sleep. He was 88.
I remember him as the hulking creature from The Thing from Another World (1951). He also played in a great little gem of a science fiction movie about giant killer ants called Them! (1954). However, most people recall him in the role of Marshall Matthew Dillon on the television show, Gunsmoke (1955 - 1975).
He appeared in a handful of films with his friend John Wayne in the 1950s.
Mr. Arness passed away in his sleep. He was 88.
Update on Graduation Prayer Ban
An update on this post.
A federal appeals panel ruled Friday that a judge here was wrong to bar public prayers from today's graduation ceremony at Medina Valley High School.
Biery's order had said the school district must tell its graduation speakers that they can talk about religion and their personal beliefs but can't pray or call on the audience to pray.
He was responding to a lawsuit filed last week by the parents of Corwin Schultz, an agnostic member of Medina Valley's Class of 2011, that said the district regularly allowed prayers at graduations and other school events, which violated his constitutional rights.
Schultz and his parents declined comment and said through their lawyers at Americans United for the Separation of Church and State that they would not attend the graduation.
A federal appeals panel ruled Friday that a judge here was wrong to bar public prayers from today's graduation ceremony at Medina Valley High School.
Biery's order had said the school district must tell its graduation speakers that they can talk about religion and their personal beliefs but can't pray or call on the audience to pray.
He was responding to a lawsuit filed last week by the parents of Corwin Schultz, an agnostic member of Medina Valley's Class of 2011, that said the district regularly allowed prayers at graduations and other school events, which violated his constitutional rights.
Schultz and his parents declined comment and said through their lawyers at Americans United for the Separation of Church and State that they would not attend the graduation.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Discrimination Isn't for Everyone
A federal judge in South Texas has banned public prayer at a high school graduation ceremony after the agnostic parents of a senior went to court.
Biery's order, released Tuesday, was in response to a lawsuit filed by Christa and Danny Schultz on behalf of their son, Corwin, to block use of prayer. The judge says speakers cannot call on audience members to bow their heads, join in prayer or say "amen."
The federal court system's prescribed cure for a tyranny of the majority is instituting a tyranny of the minority. Now we all get abused in the hopes of appeasing a handful of perpetually offended jerks who believe it is their Constidelusional right to go through life without ever, ever having their mellow harshed. Isn't that nice for them?
I note that the federal government's position is that offending someone is a concern only if the person-in-question holds non-traditional or non-religious (non-Christian) ideas. If you're a Christian or a conservative type, these federal judges have no problem using your beliefs as a doormat, after clod-hopping in cowpie country.
A whole school barred from an official recognition of God's existence, due to the bellyaching of two people. That's what I call fair play.
By the way, the above does not sound like the behavior of agnostics, but of militant atheists.
I can hear the Schultzes now:
"Son, we know you're about to head out into that great big godless world, but we want to make sure that you remain unexposed to such icky praying nonsense. It might hurt your feelings; it sure as no such thing as hell hurts ours.
"We know that you're a delicate little flower, and we're not certain that your fragile sensibilities can handle the bowing of heads all across an auditorium. And the last time we heard the word A-M-E-N, we both came down with a case of the vapors and woke up having lost two hours, with residual headaches.
"Son, we love you very much; that's why we don't want you deciding for yourself about the efficacy or benignity of prayer. That's our job. However, if you must have a higher power to whom you pray, we'll make one exception. We recommend that lovely mocha gentleman in the White House.
"After all, he truly walks on water."
Biery's order, released Tuesday, was in response to a lawsuit filed by Christa and Danny Schultz on behalf of their son, Corwin, to block use of prayer. The judge says speakers cannot call on audience members to bow their heads, join in prayer or say "amen."
The federal court system's prescribed cure for a tyranny of the majority is instituting a tyranny of the minority. Now we all get abused in the hopes of appeasing a handful of perpetually offended jerks who believe it is their Constidelusional right to go through life without ever, ever having their mellow harshed. Isn't that nice for them?
I note that the federal government's position is that offending someone is a concern only if the person-in-question holds non-traditional or non-religious (non-Christian) ideas. If you're a Christian or a conservative type, these federal judges have no problem using your beliefs as a doormat, after clod-hopping in cowpie country.
A whole school barred from an official recognition of God's existence, due to the bellyaching of two people. That's what I call fair play.
By the way, the above does not sound like the behavior of agnostics, but of militant atheists.
I can hear the Schultzes now:
"Son, we know you're about to head out into that great big godless world, but we want to make sure that you remain unexposed to such icky praying nonsense. It might hurt your feelings; it sure as no such thing as hell hurts ours.
"We know that you're a delicate little flower, and we're not certain that your fragile sensibilities can handle the bowing of heads all across an auditorium. And the last time we heard the word A-M-E-N, we both came down with a case of the vapors and woke up having lost two hours, with residual headaches.
"Son, we love you very much; that's why we don't want you deciding for yourself about the efficacy or benignity of prayer. That's our job. However, if you must have a higher power to whom you pray, we'll make one exception. We recommend that lovely mocha gentleman in the White House.
"After all, he truly walks on water."
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