This blog does not contain and its author will not condone profanity, crude language, or verbal abuse. Commenters, you are welcome to speak your mind but do not cuss or I will delete either the word or your entire comment, depending on my mood. Continued use of bad words or inappropriate sentiments will result in the offending individual being banned, after which they'll be obliged to walk the plank. Thankee for your understanding and compliance.
Ecstatically shooting everything in sight using my beloved Nikon D3100 with AF-S DX Nikkor 18-55mm 1:3.5-5.6G VR kit lens and AF-S Nikkor 50mm f/1.8 G prime lens.
Also capturing outrageous beauty left and right with my Nikon D7000 blissfully married to my Nikkor 85mm f/1.4D AF prime glass. Don't be jeal.
And then there was the Nikon AF-S DX NIKKOR 18-200mm f:3.5-5.6G ED VR II zoom. We're done here.
Therefore seeing we have this ministry, as we have received mercy, we faint not;
But have renounced the hidden things of dishonesty, not walking in craftiness, nor handling the word of God deceitfully; but by manifestation of the truth commending ourselves to every man's conscience in the sight of God.
But if our gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are lost:
In whom the god of this world hath blinded the minds of them which believe not, lest the light of the glorious gospel of Christ, who is the image of God, should shine unto them.
For we preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus the Lord; and ourselves your servants for Jesus' sake.
For God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.
But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us.
We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair;
Persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed;
Always bearing about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our body.
For we which live are alway delivered unto death for Jesus' sake, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our mortal flesh.
So then death worketh in us, but life in you.
We having the same spirit of faith, according as it is written, I BELIEVED, AND THEREFORE HAVE I SPOKEN; we also believe, and therefore speak;
Knowing that he which raised up the Lord Jesus shall raise up us also by Jesus, and shall present us with you.
For all things are for your sakes, that the abundant grace might through the thanksgiving of many redound to the glory of God.
For which cause we faint not; but though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day.
For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory;
While we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal.
II Corinthians 4
>>>>++<<<<
THE DREAMERS
In the dawn of the day of ages,
In the youth of a wondrous race,
'Twas the dreamer who saw the marvel,
'Twas the dreamer who saw God's face.
On the mountains and in the valleys,
By the banks of the crystal stream,
He wandered whose eyes grew heavy
With the grandeur of his dream.
The seer whose grave none knoweth,
The leader who rent the sea,
The lover of men who, smiling,
Walked safe on Galilee --
All dreamed their dreams and whispered
To the weary and worn and sad
Of a vision that passeth knowledge.
They said to the world: "Be glad!
"Be glad for the words we utter,
Be glad for the dreams we dream;
Be glad, for the shadows fleeing
Shall let God's sunlight beam."
But the dreams and the dreamers vanish,
The world with its cares grows old;
The night, with the stars that gem it,
Is passing fair, but cold.
What light in the heavens shining
Shall the eye of the dreamer see?
Was the glory of old a phantom,
The wraith of a mockery?
Oh, man, with your soul that crieth
In gloom for a guiding gleam,
To you are the voices speaking
Of those who dream their dream.
If their vision be false and fleeting,
If its glory delude their sight --
Ah, well, 'tis a dream shall brighten
The long, dark hours of night.
> Edward Sims Van Zile <
>>>>++<<<<
Freedom is a fragile thing and is never more than one generation away from extinction. It is not ours by inheritance; it must be fought for and defended constantly by each generation, for it comes only once to a people. Those who have known freedom and then lost it, have never known it again.
OK so I've been down in Georgia for the last few days, hanging out with Erica while she dog-sits a lemon Beagle named Colt.
Lolling contentedly is pretty much his usual attitude. Low energy? That would be the charitable way of putting it.
At any given time Colt is either snoozing, begging treats, or begging being babied. Although, Debbie, I bet he'd like becoming acquainted with Penelope.
So far he can boast a one-hundred-percent success rate in the coddle-me stakes. Erica obliges him and I've done my share too.
All the attention seems to make him smile.
Of course that sly grin could be owing to the Heinz HomeStyle gravy his owners instructed Erica to drizzle over his food.
But it takes muscles to smile, and muscle movement is tiring.
Sometimes he lifts his head to see what's going on two feet away from his nose.
And sometimes it appears he's getting ready to offer canine commentary on the situation.
Meanwhile Cooper, the Doberman puppy who lives next door, frequently bounds across the yard and up onto the porch to pay a visit.
Calm is NOT his middle name ... although Calamity might well be a fitting alternative moniker.
Yes Cooper, we are home. What's shaking?
Cooper has a nickname: T. Rex. I wonder why.
But he is fiercely protective of Erica -- not to mention his owners, whose house is fifty yards away -- so I do not find him scary at all.
Once when a stranger pulled into he driveway to ask Erica a question, Cooper hurtled across the field and guarded my daughter's person with his body until the unknown quantity had departed the premises.
He is legend for having, not too long ago, pinned two seedy-looking youths to the big Oak tree in his own front yard, while the interlopers tried to explain to the lady of the house that they were just looking for "lawns to mow."
Said lady, my dear friend Anna, told them that not only did she not require lawn services, but that they'd be detained by the Doberman until she called him off.
They beat a hasty retreat and word on the street is, that night the master of the house -- my dear friend Alan -- rewarded Cooper with a whole box of animal crackers dumped right onto the kitchen floor.
Any questions?
Between semi-conscious Colt and loose-cannon Cooper, we got game y'all.
Certain folks have become all wee-weed up in recent days about an outrageous statement made by Dan Cathy, COO of Chick-fil-A.
Mr. Cathy, on behalf of the phenomenally successful company founded in 1946 by his father, S. Truett Cathy, has taken a vocal public stand in favor of traditional marriage. In doing so he took a stand in opposition to same-sex marriage.
Clap him in irons! I don’t believe you’ll hurt Chick-fil-A’s bottom line.
If you’re lucky enough to live where there are Chick-fil-A restaurants, when is the last time you walked into one and didn’t have to wait in line? They’re always jammed.
Generally speaking if you choose to eat in, you’re practically bumping elbows with other patrons the whole time.
I once left a deposition in Greenville, South Carolina, with about an hour for lunch. I headed for the nearest Chick-fil-A and found that it had not one, but two drive-thru lanes. The parking lot was full and the restaurant was full.
Both drive-thru lines were so long, by the time I got my sandwich, my only option was to park in a neighboring lot to scarf it down before I had to get back to work.
As always, it was well worth it.
So you might as well clap me in irons too, because not only am I a loyal and enthusiastic patron of Chick-fil-A, but I agree with Dan Cathy on the subject of traditional marriage.
(And the homosexuals are just as free to disagree with Dan Cathy as I am to agree with him. That’s one of the things that makes this America: freedom of speech, as guaranteed by the First Amendment to the Constitution.)
There have been Internet rumors that the homosexual community is organizing a “National Same-Sex Kiss Day” at Chick-fil-A restaurants on August 3rd, 2012.
How adult and mature and responsible of them! Let’s make sure little kids see men making out with men and women making out with women in a family-oriented atmosphere, just so the homosexuals can make their point that nobody has the right to disagree with them.
How about this? How about TG and I go to one of our many Columbia-area Chick-fil-A locations on August 3rd, take a booth inside, and commence making out?
How about if we then try the same thing at Burger King or McDonald’s or Arby’s or Bojangle’s or Popeyes or Hardee’s or Cracker Barrel or Ruby Tuesday or Applebee’s or Chili’s or Olive Garden or Romano’s Macaroni Grill or O’Charley’s or Pizzeria Uno or Fatz Cafe or Buffalo Wild Wings or LongHorn Steakhouse or Lizard’s Thicket or Outback or Schlotzsky’s or McAlister’s Deli or Zaxby’s or Panera Bread or Five Guys or Red Robin, or even the Barnes & Noble Starbucks?
Just settle in, order some lunch, get comfortable, and start making out.
My guess is, before long, when engaging in such behavior for any length of time at any one of those places, we will be asked to either cease and desist our exhibitionism, or to leave.
And in asking us to stop or leave, would the management be guilty of heterophobia? Or of opposing traditional marriage? After all, we are married!
Of course they wouldn’t. They would be fully justified in asking us to stop or leave because our behavior is inappropriate for the time and place. We are doing something in public that should be done only in private.
But I promise you, if the homosexuals show up at Chick-fil-A restaurants all over America on August 3rd and start making out, nobody will ask them to leave. Or if they do, there will be trouble.
And it will make the national news, and Chick-fil-A will be portrayed as hatemongering homophobics opposed to civil rights in the form of “marriage equality.”
However there was no trouble -- and no mainstream reporting -- when, about six weeks ago, the White House sponsored a swanky reception for “important” gay people from Philadelphia.
(Is there any such thing, really, as an “important” homosexual? Just a thought. But let’s press forward.)
Homosexual couples of both sexes attending said reception positioned themselves in front of the official portrait of President Ronald Reagan and began making out, while simultaneously lifting their hands in a rude gesture to the portrait.
They were not asked to leave our White House for lewd behavior, or even to stop being disrespectful to a dead president.
(But pretty soon, the person who invited them there will be evicted from our White House. You may count on it.)
I remember my first visit to the White House. I also remember my first visit to Chick-fil-A. It was at the Toco Hills store in suburban Atlanta, probably around 1972.
The chicken! The soft bun! Extra pickles! Waffle fries! Lemonade! The flavor combinations, then as now, were positively intoxicating.
Back then, while enjoying our sandwich and accompaniments, we didn’t have to debate whether men should ... ahem ... marry only women and women stick to marrying men.
Now we’re forced to debate it constantly, even if we prefer not to, all the while being accused by the homosexuals of wanting to control what they do in the bedroom.
Don’t tell you what to do in your bedroom? Then don’t broadcast what you do in your bedroom. Believe me when I say, I could not be less interested in what you do in your bedroom.
In an attempt to think of something that bores me more than knowing what anyone -- least of all a homosexual -- does in their bedroom, I came up empty.
Wait! Perhaps feeding soggy Cheerios to a Speedo-clad Joe Biden would interest me less.
Still, I do not care. So do us both a favor and don’t involve me. That way, I won’t have to waste a brain cell thinking about it. Win win.
Judge you? Fear you? Hate you? Not that I would anyway, but if you’d only keep your private activities private, and stop insisting that I’m breaking the law if I prefer not to rubber-stamp every move you make, I wouldn’t even be tempted. Win win again.
Since when does disagreeing with what somebody else does, or choosing to say that you disapprove of a certain lifestyle, constitute judgment or fear or hate? It’s simply a statement of fact.
I notice this week, nobody has had any difficulty judging or fearing or hating the guy who shot up the theater in Colorado. They don’t seem to mind being very vocal about it either. I've had to turn off the TV because I'm sick to death of hearing about it. We know already! We know.
(And yes I made that comparison, and if you don't like it may I remind you that you click out the same way you clicked in. Immorality leading to destruction takes many forms and not all of them in the name of love, and sin when it is finished always brings forth death.)
The point is, each of us are forced to make judgment calls all day long. Do we necessarily hate or fear everything we choose against, or everyone who chooses to do what we choose not to do? Of course not.
The only reason the activism-prone homosexuals whine and gripe and moan and pitch hissyfits about everybody not falling right into lockstep with the wisdom of their choices, is because what they do is immoral and unnatural, and they know it.
It’s like a toddler stomping its foot and throwing itself on the floor, kicking and screaming, in order to manipulate someone into giving them their way so that they’ll shut up.
Read: Do what I say and give me what I want, or I will make life miserable for you.
The only problem is, no matter what ground we give over to the less than three percent of Americans who identify themselves as homosexuals, it will never be enough. They won’t be happy until they have eradicated traditional marriage by re-defining it into something it was never intended to be.
By the way, don’t believe for a second that the mind-and-thought control demanded of you and me and our neighbors by our government and the homosexuals, has anything whatsoever to do with love and marriage.
For one thing, the homosexual lifestyle is more about lust than love. For another, the rights they wish to secure are more financial than familial, more radical than romantic.
As to marriage, it is not “marriage equality” they want so much as to destroy the concept of traditional marriage. That’s so nobody will ever dare to make a comparison again and find the homosexual lifestyle to be abnormal or perverted.
Which it is.
Nobody is born a homosexual any more than they are born an alcoholic. Pursuit of the homosexual lifestyle is a willing choice made by an individual.
But we are created in the image of God, and to the God in Whose image we are created, according to His Word, homosexuality is an abomination. So to maintain that He created someone -- anyone -- a homosexual, is preposterous.
It’s also presumptuous and blasphemous and just plain stupid. Whoever says it, lies.
But whenever you want to control and demonize and legalize thoughts and ideas, simply turn a moral issue into a political issue. Make it against the law to “discriminate” by daring to correctly identify homosexuality as a choice rather than an “orientation.”
I will not de-claw or de-fang any of the above. I will not rethink it, rephrase it, or rescind it. I will not be muzzled and I will not be forced to endorse a lifestyle I believe to be wrong. Ever. Not by any government, not by any group of people, not by any law, not by the decree of any dictator, not by any form of evil terroristic mind-controlling coercion.
I have a first cousin who lives a homosexual lifestyle. She is a beautiful girl and I love her dearly. Over the years I’ve attended a few family social functions where she and her partner were present. I was not afraid of them and I felt no hatred for them.
On the contrary, I enjoy talking to them and find them to be charming young women.
However, I do not approve of my cousin's choices and if she asked for my opinion on the matter, I would tell her as much. The truth is, she already knows my opinion so she does not have to ask, and she won't.
My aunt, my cousin’s mother, loves her daughter and has been as supportive of her as she can be under the circumstances. But she does not approve of her daughter’s lifestyle either, and likewise my cousin knows it.
“Your choices did not affect my values,” my aunt reminded her baby girl during one discussion of the spiritual and societal opposition faced by homosexuals.
My aunt later told me that she wished she’d thought to add: “Any more than my values affected your choices." And I could tell it made her sad to say that.
I think that solves it.
Now let's go have a Chick-fil-A with extra pickles. Waffle fries on the side, large lemonade. I'll take my camera along, just in case anybody's kissing.
Oh! I almost forgot. This video? Yeah. What I'm talking about.
By the way, the gorgeous and luscious-voiced Josh Turner appears with his real, actual, gorgeous wife. Their union has been blessed with three cute little boy children.
There is no way more beautiful than God's way and no ideal design apart from God's design. Ignore it at your peril.
I'll tell you how the Sun rose -- A Ribbon at a time -- The Steeples swam in Amethyst -- The news, like Squirrels, ran -- The Hills untied their Bonnets -- The Bobolinks -- begun -- Then I said softly to myself -- "That must have been the Sun"!
But how he set -- I know not -- There seemed a purple stile That little Yellow boys and girls Were climbing all the while -- Till when they reached the other side, A Dominie in Gray -- Put gently up the evening Bars -- And led the flock away --
OK so I wish I had kept the preternaturally cheery green-and-white postcard that came in the mail a few weeks ago.
But I didn't.
Before I could stop alternately guffawing and gagging, I had torn said sick-making object in two and deposited it into the trash.
And then -- too late! -- I thought, "UH-oh."
See, I tear all junk mail into two or three pieces and throw it into the trash. I hardly do more than glance at it.
It does nobody any good to send me catalogs and brochures and advertisements and flyers and circulars and political messages and credit card applications.
And yet they keep doing it.
Listen up, folks: I am not remotely interested.
I have fairly narrow areas of interest and none of that stuff falls into any of them.
One of the few exceptions is when I get the charming occasional piece of mail announcing that Lancome is in gift at either Belk or Dillard's.
I read those carefully and plot my strategy.
Y'all know how I love me a lagniappe. Especially one of the cosmetic variety.
Be that as it may, I repeat: I wish I'd thought before reflexively mutilating, then tossing, my invitation to join Nextdoor.
On account of, it was powerful blogging fodder. A snarky post kernel offered like a literary lagniappe!
First of all do not get me started on how ridiculous it is to render the term "next door" as a compound word. That freaks me out almost as much as "login."
But oh my soul, if anything strikes terror in my heart it is the very thought of a budding, burgeoning neighborhood social network.
It is unthinkable and yet there is the Web site -- and there was the treacly postcard -- to prove its existence.
A virtual fence over which neighbors chat, because clearly we have all lost interest in chatting face-to-face.
(No judgment here because I am no exception, as a recent post clearly demonstrated.)
But Nextdoor? Really, folks, is that not taking it a bit far? Can I get an amen up in here?
I mean, isn't everyone and their pet python already "on" Fakebook Facebook, proclaiming to all and sundry each time the miracle of cell division occurs in their body?
(My daughters know a young woman who "updated" her "status" throughout labor and delivery of her fourth child. Did you want to know how many centimeters she'd dilated, or which drugs the medicos had pumped into her? It was all there.)
Ghastly. Gross, gauche, gruesome and I repeat, ghastly.
Back to Nextdoor. I double-dog dare you to click on the video to learn more. But I warn you: the opening salvo is "Have you ever needed to borrow a ladder?"
Would anything induce you to employ this method for determining "when local road repairs will wrap up"?
And can you even imagine using a neighborhood social network to locate a babysitter?
Uhm, to all questions, my personal answer is a firm and unequivocal NOT A CHANCE.
I totally rest my case. Also I shudder. Repeatedly.
Made you look at my grandson, though! It was like hiding broccoli in a glass of milk.
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Monday, July 30, 2012 at 08:44AM 
