E Pluribus Unum

Out of many is one,” is the motto of the United States of America. Lately my thoughts have been on immigration because of the reading I am doing and also because I now have a genuine immigrant for a life partner. The United States is froth with success stories of people who went through monumental hardships to get here just to enjoy the freedoms and opportunities afforded by our country. Of late, we have been deluged with stories about people crossing into the country illegally. Our country has laws and we like to say we are a country of laws, and for the most part we try to obey them all. Every law has consequences, break one and find out what it is. Most laws can be bent depending on who has broken it, and what relation he has with those in power. The powerful can bend, break, ignore, any law if it means advancing his fortune or position in the world. If you are a poor unconnected schlub like me you will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law.

Honduran migrants take part in a new caravan heading to the US with Honduran and Guatemalan national flags in Quezaltepeque, Chiquimula, Guatemala on October 22, 2018. – US President Donald Trump on Monday called the migrant caravan heading toward the US-Mexico border a national emergency, saying he has alerted the US border patrol and military. (Photo by ORLANDO ESTRADA / AFP)ORLANDO ESTRADA/AFP/Getty Images

What we see going on today is a gross mismanagement of immigration law at our southern border. Rules are being broken every minute of every day and no amount of policing seems to be able to control the flow. Of course much of the current control is window dressing to convince the rest of us that the administrators are doing something. Bullshit, they are looking up into the sky while waving them in. I know I sound ruthlessly unmerciful, but I am one of the people who believes in rule of law. Mostly because I have never found myself in a position to have to defend myself against the same.

Our history of laws controlling immigration goes back to the days of our first president George Washington. Since then there have been several iterations trying to control the flow of people. Each time the laws get more and more complex and each time they get more confusing. The result is that we have reached a quagmire that may only be corrected with a rest. In other words a complete cleansing of all immigration laws to be replaced by new laws which better define the twenty-first century demands. The trouble is that not a single politician has the balls to sponsor such an action. Currently, there are so many people in our country that have gotten here by by-passing the official government procedure that, it near impossible to play catch up. To wipe the slate clean which is an action people like to call amnesty is the only answer I ever hear. The problem with amnesty is that is evokes the ire of every red blooded citizen especially those who came as immigrants legally. Politicians both win and lose on this one. the result is a stalemate, and nothing advances.

The radical left uses this situation to advance the spread of communism in the country. The more people they can get into the country and onto the public dole, the sooner the country will go bankrupt and a dictator will be necessary to take control. I don’t know about you, but the thought of being controlled by the likes of someone like Fidel Castro, Saddam Hussein, Pot Pol, Xi Jinping, Nicolas Maduro, or the fat man of North Korea Kim Jong-un makes me want to puke. I’d sooner want to duke it out with guns and eliminate the entire population that thinks in that direction. Thats what happens in dictatorships. That his why Stalin and Chairman Mao killed millions of their own people to get the message across that it was their way, or a bullet to the back.

Yes, we are a nation of laws and we are a nation of immigrants, but there are limits. I believe we must allow immigration to continue but lawfully. We should base the number of people we let in on our ability to assimilate them. We can’t just let the entire world population flood into North America and turn us into a dung hole overnight. That is a sure fire recipe for disaster and the ruination of the land of opportunity. I would sooner take the countries that people are fleeing and make take them over as U.S. territories so they could be controlled by our system and thus open the doors of opportunity within the geographic location of the population.

Whenever I think this way I remember that Puerto Rico is one such an experiment. It is not a state yet, but a territory free to operate under our system. They are a dung hole already on the cusp of bankruptcy because of a heavy reliance on left wing democrats who like to spend freely, and to tax the constituency even heavier. The result is a two class system of very rich haves and the very poor the have nots. Without a middle class which our Republic relies upon to survive.

Back in the nineteen seventies I often debated with myself trying to solve the issue of using capitalism to solve world problems. Back then, labor unions in the USA were huge, but we were a manufacturing economy. In order to compete with the new upstart economies in Europe and Asia we needed cheaper labor, but the unions would not hear of it. There are only two ways to solve this conundrum I thought. Either we lower the wages of our work force, or we raise the wages of the rest of the world. It seems that lowering the wages of our work force is the direction our congressional leaders is taking us. They can’t do it by getting unions to negotiate lower wages, so the new tactic is to import people from very poor regions, who can live on a few dollars a day, to fill the jobs that union people will not take. The end result is the struggle we see happening today. Poor people are flooding the borders to get the jobs that we can’t afford to take. Eventually, these poor will succeed in lowering the cost of labor. High paying unions job will still exist, but not in the numbers needed to give all of our middle class people work. The idea is to force them to take what is available by competing with those who know how to live on a dollar a day. It is not going too happen.

This combination photo shows the cover image for “Out of Many, One: Portraits of America’s Immigrants” by George W. Bush, left, and a photo of former President George W. Bush. Crown announced Thursday that the book will be published March 2. It includes 43 portraits by the 43rd president, four-color paintings of immigrants he has come to know over the years, along with biographical essays he wrote about each of them. (Crown via AP, Left, and AP)

The book I’m reading is titled Out Of Many, One. Portraits of America’s Immigrants.” It is by George W. Bush our former president. He has selected 43 immigrants to paint portraits of, and to feature in a short life story vignette about their reasons for immigrating. There isn’t a single story without a happy ending. Yes, these are sterling examples of how people can succeed in our country. The problem is that for every one of these success stories there are probably a million that haven’t achieved a level of success. Too much immigration without the time needed for these people to assimilate is not going to work in our favor. Not everyone has the self motivation to get up from a failure and to keep trying again and again. Too many will opt for the short route to feeling good by taking drugs or alcohol. They might have done better had they had coaches pushing them hard to succeed. Instead we do things like our war on drugs to solve the problem. We all know how that works. It made the cartels stronger and they developed ta strong market for drugs by outwitting our drug enforcement efforts for decades. The end result is we make drugs legal, so they are easier to get, and then we stop sending drug abusers to prison. We tax the drugs and remove the prison cost so the state wins big time. The immigration problem continues.

Who Is Next?

While watching the riots around the country last week I wondered how long it would be before the creeps began to pick on George Washington. Well, yesterday I saw an article that showed poor bronze George laying laying face down wondering what the hell happened. I am wondering the same thing. There is nothing that divides a country more then civil strife. I often declare myself a bigot, and a racist, but I live with black neighbors as well as brown and yellow. These people are fine people. All they want is to live in peace, raise their families and to have a good life, they are okay, or at least they appear to be. Frankfort is a magnet for minority families because of the fine reputation of our schools. They come here to give their kids the same chance as I gave mine. They don’t want their kids hooked on drugs, nor recruited into gangs. Yet, Frankfort has both of these problems within the boundaries. My own grand daughters told me exactly where they could go within the school to get drugs. It was a different place for different desires. I read the police blotter in the locals and the number one reason for being pulled over is to examine for drugs. Lately there has been an explosion of burgled cars and homes. I can only reason that these thieves are feeding habits. The number one house that gets robbed is one with doors unlocked, the same for cars. Stolen cars are easy pickings when the owners leave them unlocked with the keys in the console.

What we haven’t seen yet in our town is unpeaceful protesting, rioting, and looting. These activities seem to be organized by political groups mostly leftist or communist for the purpose of creating division between peoples. These are ruthless criminal types that will betray their country for money. Many are highly educated and brainwashed into leftist thinking that they have it bad. Never do these people listen to logic nor understand statistics about how more black lives are lost within their own community perpetrated by blacks. Black lives don’t really matter if it is a black killing a black.

Blacks are progressing in this country. Although because I, a white man has said it they will disagree. There have been myriads of laws passed dictating that blacks are equal to whites, trillions of dollars have been spent to make their lives better, and it has done so, but they don’t think it is enough, they want reparation too. This rioting and protesting will only end when the entire country is communist, poor, and starving. In other words, never. We will never succumb to communism peacefully.

This week I heard the term “Juneteenth” for the first time. The word is completely strange to me, but since that first time it is a ll I’ve heard. Evidently, it is a term used to commemorate freedom from slavery. Southern states have been celebrating this day, but not in my half of the country. There is now a movement to make Juneteenth a National Holiday. I suppose the day will rival the National Holiday of July fourth with picnics and concerts on the National Mall, fireworks, parades, and time off from work.  Hell, if we celebrate more and more none of us will have any time to work for a living. Life will be more acceptable if we didn’t have to work. What an awful four letter word work is.

Fence Me In

 

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I grew up listening to a cowboy song called “Don’t Fence Me In.” The lyrics brought one to imagine living in a place so large and so free that it was eden like.

Don’t Fence Me In
Oh give me land, lots of land, and the starry skies above
Don’t fence me in
Let me ride through the wide open country that I love
Don’t fence me in
Let me be by myself in the evening breeze
And listen to the murmur of the cottonwood trees
Send me off forever but I ask you please
Don’t fence me in
Just turn me loose, let me straddle my old saddle on
Underneath the western skies
On my cayuse, let me wander over yonder
Till I see the mountains rise
I want to ride to the ridge where the West commences
To many words, gaze at the moon till I lose my senses
And I can’t look at hobbles and I can’t stand fences
Don’t fence me in
Oh give me land, lots of land, and the starry skies above
Don’t fence me in
Let me ride through the wide open country that I love
Don’t fence

When I hear arguments from liberals about against a border fence I wonder if it is because they were raised hearing this song. Since one has to be a septuagenarian to know this song it can’t be the reason, because there are not that many of us.
Even though I loved this song when I was twelve times have changed and so has my body clock. Now, I want to be fenced in, i.e. into the United States. The idea of being fenced inside a nursing home still repulses me. I’d sooner live with the rattle snakes than in a holding tank for the grim reaper. Perhaps in another ten years I will change my mind and look forward to being tended to by lovely women paid to humor me.
I see the border fence as a necessity like the Great Wall Of China, and Hadrian’s wall in England.  Neither of those walls was fool-proof but one doesn’t see too many foreigners living in China. I see the wall along our southern border to control the influx of foreigners. We need foreigners to make up for all the native babies being aborted yearly. Combine abortions with the lack of young women bearing children and our population is in jeopardy of extinction. Let us screw for recreation without bearing the responsibility of rearing the offspring, and by the way let our women do the same, except, we want our women to feed us, keep our clothes and homes clean just as they did in primitive days, but they don’t have to raise kids. We just want them around to feed our libidos, and to make repeated trips to the frig to run a long neck to our loungers while we view Cro-magnon men bully each other on the grid-iron, and kneel during the playing of our national anthem.
What we really need is a fence with an occasional break in it to allow people to get into our mecca. Uncle Sam will build huge welcoming centers at each opening to process the millions of people eager to begin washing all those dishes in all our restaurants across the country.
The processing centers will do things like conduct back-ground checks, and issue visas to make the visitor compliant with our laws. Of course Mexico will go to war with us on this matter because the many Coyotes employed to smuggle people in will become jobless. The Drug cartels will have to build an army of trebuchets to launch huge packages of drugs over the fences. Caterpillar will sell Mexico billions of dollars worth of mining equipment to bore tunnels under the wall large enough to allow semi-trucks filled with drugs to enter. The wall will be good for business, and the immigrants too. Why? Because they will lose the illegal moniker and be qualified for all benefits without us being able to complain about it. Democrats will be happy too, because they will register all the new entrants to vote at the same time they are issued visas.
The EPA will raise hell with the wall because the lizards will be unable to move freely, and their yearly migration patterns will be disturbed causing the lizard population to head toward extinction. No lizards? What will the rattle snakes eat?
The USA will also have to go to  war with Mexico again to take some more land. We need the Rio Grande to be within the USA. That way we can build the wall on our land south of the river and not worry about how to build the wall down the middle of the river. Of course we couldn’t build the wall on our side of the river because that would cede ground to Mexico.
I wonder how the graffiti artists will make out? The paint companies will cash in supplying spray cans of the primary colors so the artists of both countries could express themselves freely upon the new surface. Travel agents will prosper by selling tours along each side of the wall to view the graffiti. Think of the many fiestas that could be planned along the wall to celebrate feast days. We would have enough room to display giant portraits of every president and his mistresses. People would flock to see the spectacle just as we do to see Mount Rushmore.
I intended this piece to be a satire on liberal attitudes toward the fence, but instead it evolved into a fun time brainstorming possibilities the fence will yield.
I can’t wait to book my fence graffiti tour!
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New Math

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Teaching practical math in Chicago that
kids understand!

Chicago Schools are finally starting to teach practical math that kids can use in real-world situations:

NAME______________________________________________ ______

GANG/CREW NAME_________________________________________

CRIB______________________________________________ _______

1. Lajames has an AK-47 with a 200-round clip. He usually misses 6 of every 10 shots and he uses 13 rounds per drive- by shooting. How many mofos can Lajames ice on a drive-by before he gotta reload?

2. Willie has 2 ounces of cocaine. If he sells an 8 ball to Antonio for $320 and 2 grams to Juan for $85 per gram, what be the street value of the rest of his ****?

3. Dwayne pimps 3 ho’s. If the price is $85 per trick, how many tricks per day must each ho turn to support Dwayne’s $800 per day crack habit?

4. Raul wants to cut the pound of cocaine he bought for $40,000 to make 20% profit. How many ounce bags will he need to make to gets the 20% upside?

5. Ray-Ray gets $2000 for a stolen BMW, $1500 for stealing a Corvette, and $1000 for a 4 x 4. If he steals 1 BMW, 2 Corvettes and 3 4×4’s, how many more Corvettes must he steal to make the 10k for his brother’s bail?

6. Pedro got 6 years for murder. He also got $10,000 for the hit. If his common-law wife spends $100 of his hit money per month, how much money will be left when he gets out?

7. If an average can of spray paint covers 22 square feet and the average letter is 3 square feet, how many letters can be sprayed with three 8 oz. cans of spray paint with 20% paint left over ?

8. Tyrone knocked up 4 girls in the gang. There be 20 girls in his gang. What be the percentage of bitches Tyrone knocked up ?

9. Lafawnda is a lookout for the gang. Lafawnda also has a boa constrictor that eats 5 rats per week and a cost of $5 per rat. If Lafawnda makes $700 a week as a lookout, how many weeks can she feed her snake with one week’s income ?

10. Marvin steals Juan’s skateboard. As Marvin skates away at 15mph, Juan loads his 357 Magnum piece. If it takes Juan 20 seconds to load his piece, how far away will Marvin be when he gets whacked?

But I Love Him

Garden Angel

Garden Angel

Saint Peter sat at the pearly gates when AJ showed up. She asked for entry. Saint Peter asked her to tell him her life story.

AJ began. I was born to fabulous parents, they never fought nor argued, they brought me up a loving, gentle, caring person. A couple of years after I entered the picture, my parents presented me with a glorious gift, a sister. Sis was my responsibility to get to school everyday. That sounds easy doesn’t it? Well, it wasn’t, Sis didn’t want to go, so I would up shoving her while I held the back of her collar.

During high school, I had an admiring boy friend, Elwood. He wrote poetry and left it in my books. He wrote about his true love for me, but somehow, I didn’t think Elwood was my type.

After high school, I got a job and took a bus to work everyday. One day, the bus driver a handsome dark-haired man a little older than I struck up a conversation. Soon we fell in love. We married. We went on a honeymoon, it was wonderful. We came home and my problems began. He beat me. He left me helplessly black and blue, but I loved him. I thought, I will become a better wife so he will treat me nicer, but he continued to beat me, but I love him Lord.

A couple of years later the beatings continued. I became pregnant. What a happy day it was when my son was born, now I loved two men. The beatings continued. My family wanted to kill my husband, but my mother put a stop to it, because he loved me.

As my son grew older, he watched his father beat me, I couldn’t leave him now Lord, because he loves me. My sister came to my rescue and took me to her home, but he called and told me how much he loved me and how sorry he was, and I went back to him, because he loves me.

My son started drinking and taking drugs in eighth grade. I didn’t say anything, because he had such a hard life watching his dad beat me so often. I couldn’t leave them both now could I, because I love them?

Sis got a phone call from a stranger, a woman, asking if she could get in touch with me. The stranger was in the process of annulling her marriage to my husband. How could he? He loves me.

My son is a man now, but he is always stoned and always in trouble with the police, but he loves me. Eventually, sonny boy commits a felony and gets caught. He spends time in prison, while his father continues to beat me. I can’t leave them Lord, they love me.

Eventually, I got smart and filed for a divorce. It was hard because my religion doesn’t allow divorce. He calls me on the day I get the decree, Free at last, except he tells me how sorry he is, and I go back with him, and he physically hurts me, but I love him.

Years go by and I finally disappear, I left them without telling him or my son where I am, but they love me Lord, and it is hard to live without them.

They find me. My son needs a place to stay, he has no job, nor does he want one. I love him Lord, so I take him in. Then my son tells my ex where I am, and he shows up. He loves me Lord, but now he has my son who is six-foot three and two hundred pounds standing between me and him. He doesn’t beat me anymore, but he certainly gets verbally abusive. I tell him to get the heck out and he goes away, for a while. He returns with gifts to make amends, and I let him visit, because he loves me.

Life is bearable for the first time in sixty years. Sonny lives with me and protects me, but I am very forgetful now, and Sonny must watch me constantly. My ex comes and goes, and every once in a while I throw him out, but I love him Lord.

My son disappears at times after his welfare check comes. I suppose he is off buying and using drugs with his friends. He comes back when he is out of money. Sis tells me again, and again to throw Sonny out, but I love him.

Sonny disappears again, and my memory is failing me Lord. I don’t have food in the house, and I am hungry. I knock on my neighbors doors asking for food. My friends share with me and I am happy. They tell me to kick Sonny out, but I love him Lord. A few weeks later he leaves me again, this time for a week or more. I walk out of the condo to find some food and help. I walk to the priest’s home and ask him for help. He promises to send someone soon. The police come and take me home, but I still don’t have food, and I am hungry Lord. I begin knocking on doors in the neighborhood asking for food. Many doors slam in my face, then the police come. This time they take me to a hospital, and they admit me. I don’t remember where I live anymore, nor my phone number. I remember Sis, and her name, and where she lives. The hospital calls Sis. She comes to visit, I can’t tell her about Sonny abandoning me because he loves me. Sis knows anyway, I didn’t have to tell her.

Saint Peter, for the first time in my life, I found a place where I am happy. Sis, and the Public Guardian found this place where nuns take care of me. The best part is that my ex and Sonny didn’t know where I was, but I know they love me.

Within a month, they found me again. They began to visit, and sweet talk me like they did before. This time, though the sisters are aware of their intentions and they watch the visits. I am truly happy, I go to mass daily, I have food three times a day, I have met new friends, and once a week, Sonny comes to visit. Sometimes he brings his father with him. I love them so.

Lat week, something strange went on in my head, and I fell smashing my head and hurting it even more. Then, I had a stroke which left me completely limp and in a coma.

Sonny has been with me right up until the time I saw the light where I saw Jesus standing at the end waving to me. I lifted myself up from the bed and walked toward Him. He took me by the hand and walked with me. Now I find myself talking to you.

“Why didn’t you ask us for help,”  said Saint Peter.

“I kept forgiving my ex and my son because that is what the Lord would do, and because they love me.”

“AJ,” he said, “Prepare yourself for some excitement.”

“What kind,” she asked?

The pearly gates began to open and there behind the gates a huge crowd cheered, all clapping, whistling, and shouting for AJ to come in.

AJ stood in shock, but soon a smiling woman she recognized stepped out of the crowd and ran toward her with open arms.

“Mom,” I yell, “he loves me.”

“AJ, you are home at last.”