Chamblee54

Dear Friend, As-salaam aliekum….. I am contacting you as a matter of urgency about a huge transfer of ($9,700,000.00) Nine Million Seven Hundred Thousand United State Dollar. But I want to first transfer $1,700.000.00 (One million seven hundred thousand USD) from this money into a safe account and after which we will transfer the remaining (8M) I have only written to seek for your indulgence and assistance. You will be providing a designated bank account of your choice. My name is Mr. Ibrahim Abdullah. Director of integrated finance of a bank here in West Africa . Thus, for your indulgence and assistance (morally and financially), i propose a 45% share of the total amount to you after the transfer has been successfully effected. Kindly, state your interest by replying immediately and i shall furnish you with details and procedures preceding the transfer. ALLAH BLESS YOU Mr Ibrahim Abdulla How are you doing today? I write to inform you that we have already sent you USD5000.00 dollars through Western union as we have been given the mandate to transfer your full benefited sum of $1,800,000.00USD via our office here (Western Union) by the United nations in conjunction with the Nigeria Government as a compensation. I called to give you the information through phone as internet hackers were many but i cannot reach you yesterday even this morning.So,I decided to email you the MTCN and sender name so that can pick up this USD5000.00 to enable us send another USD5000.00 by tomorrow as you knows we will be sending you only USD5000.00 per day. Kindly pick up this information and hurry up to the nearest western union money office that is close to you and pick up this first payment that has been sent to you now and as soon as you are done with the pick up kindly get back to us in order for us to send you another payment by tomorrow,as you know that we shall be sending you $5000usd par day. Manager :Mrs.Anita Daniel Email me once you picked up this USD5000.00 today Here is the western union information to pick up the USD5000.00,With due respect please get back to us urgently after the pick of the money and if you have any problem you can as well contact us immediately. Thank Mrs. Anita Daniel. western union Office. Dear Customer!!! Dear One, I am Madam Aidata Hinda I am a widow being that I lost my husband,my husband Late Mr Hinda Norman was a serving director of the Cocoa exporting board until his death. He was assassinated by the rebels following the political uprising, before his death he made a deposit of Six Million Five Hundred Dollars ($6,500,000.00USD) here in Ouagadougou Burkina Faso in one of the Security Company,he intended to buy a Cocoa processing Machine with the fund. want you to help me for us to retreive this fund and transfer it to your account in your country or any safer place as you will be the beneficiary and recipient of the fund which we will use for joint investment in your country. I have plans to do investment in your country, like real estate and industrial production. This is my reason for writing to you. Please if you are willing to assist me and my only Duaghter Nora ,indicate your interest by replying urgently Beware of dog. Contestants have been briefed on some questions before the show. Limited time offer, call now to insure prompt delivery. You must be present to win. No passes accepted for this engagement. No purchase necessary. Processed at location stamped in code at top of carton. Shading within a garment may occur. Use only in well-ventilated area. Pictures tonight are from The Library of Congress . The text is from the internet. If it is on the internet, it must be the truth.

May 6 is a day in spring, with 35% of the year gone by. It has it’s fair share of history, some of which did not turn out well. In 1861, the Confederate Congress declared war on the United States. In 1937, a German zeppelin named “Hindenburg” exploded while trying to land in New Jersey. In 1940, Bob Hope did his first show for the USO, somewhere in California.
In non metric news, in 1954 Roger Bannister ran the first sub four minute mile. The current record is 3:43.13 by Hicham El Guerrouj on July 7, 1999, with a party with Prince to celebrate. Since most track meets now use 1500 meters, the mile record is more or less obsolete.
On this day, Georgia has strapped two notable prisoners onto the gurney of no return. In 2003, Carl Isaacs was put to death. Mr. Isaacs was the ringleader in the Alday family killing, in Donalsonville GA, 1973. Five years later, in 2008, William Earl Lynd was poisoned by the state. This was the first execution, after the Supreme Court ruled that execution, by poisoning, was constitutional.
According to Wikipedia, which is never wrong, several notables were born on May 6. Included are: 1758 – Maximilien Robespierre//1856 – Sigmund Freud//1895 – Rudolph Valentino//1903 – Toots Shor//1915 – Orson Welles//1924 – Patricia Kennedy Lawford//1931 – Willie Mays//1937 – Rubin Carter//1945 – Bob Seger//1953 – Tony Blair//1954 – PG//1961 – George Clooney.
To make room for these folks, someone has to die. For May 6 this would mean: 1862 – Henry David Thoreau//1919 – L. Frank Baum//1992 – Marlene Dietrich.

Today is the National Day of Prayer . PG has this to offer: Pictures are from The Library of Congress
Good Morning G-d. Please give me the slack I need to make it through this busy life. I have a birthday tomorrow, and am getting older. Please give me less pain, both above and below the neck. Thank you for letting me get this far. Thank you for the gift of sobriety, and the memory of inebrience. The gift of moderation would have been appreciated. Help me overcome chemistry telling me to be unhappy.
Please tell the Jesus Worshipers to shut up. They make too much noise. Help me to forgive them. Give Jesus Worshipers a bit more humility. Help Jesus Worshipers to get over their confusion, and quit hating gay people. Let people know that G-d does not write books. Let men know that A REAL MAN KEEPS CONTROL OF HIS TEMPER. Please tell the proud people praying today that it is better to listen than to talk.
Please find a happy medium for Atlanta water. Let us have neither drought nor flood. It would help if the developers would move to North Carolina, and the politicians would grow a conscience. This may be asking too much.
G-d, Please try to get along better with Allah. This is important. Maybe if you and her got along better, then all those religious crazies would hate each other less. Help white people and black people get along better. Please be good to the people who have already lived, and are now deceased. Please understand that I am not in a hurry to join them.
Help Mr. Obama with the mess this country is in. Help Israel get along with her neighbors, and live within her borders. Help the world solve the carbon dioxide problem.
Thank you for the birds that sing. I will listen to them, and not an electronic device. Thank you for dogs, and dog owners who clean up. Thank you for earth, air, fire, and water. Thank you for the people who enjoy this prayer. Help those who are offended to get over it. Namaste, amen, all my relations, Good Bye.

Thursday April 28 PG woke up at 6am, and was on the road by 7:15. The three days before this had seen several rider cancellations, and a serious storm in north GA. Finally, PG decided to ride by himself, and waited until the weather radar said it was clear ahead.
The ride went smoothly for 98 miles, until the traffic slowed down to 5 mph. There was tornado damage around Ringgold, and it took about an hour to go three miles. The sky was overcast all though Chattanooga, with some threatening clouds to the east. After going through Monteagle Pass, the sun broke through. For the time being, it was glorious.
Arrival and departure at SMS can be a production. You drop off your gear at the top of the hill, and move your car to the parking spot two miles away. You hike back, and hopefully your gear is down the hill. After lunch, you find a place to set up, grab a wheel barrow, and move into your Tennessee mountain home. Before long, it is time for the dinner circle.
Every night before dinner, the community gathers on the knoll. Inevitably, someone has an announcement. This first night, it was mentioned that the people who had been to gatherings before should mentor the new arrivals. PG wondered if this was really a good idea.
After dinner, the first night, PG helped some neighbors set up a tent. He left their site, found one of the trails, and started to walk. Before long, he realized he was lost. It was not raining, and there were extra flashlight batteries, so panic was not appropriate. After a while, PG found the garden, and was able to backtrack to his tent. The next morning, he counted the steps, from the drying shed to his tent.
Friday April 29 After settling in for a day, it was time to do something. The reason gatherings are so cheap is, all the work is done by attendees. After breakfast Friday, PG went up the hill to greet people arriving for the weekend. It is a fairly simple process…say welcome home, show them where the bags go, and give them a parking slip for their vehicle. Next, you give directions to the parking area, help them back their vehicle up without going over the edge (the hills at SMS get steep fast), and direct the new cars in and the leaving cars out. The time goes by fast.
At 4:20 on Friday, a memorial for Crazy Owl was held. One day, the former Charles Hall asked to be sat up. He was propped up, and stared off into the distance. A few minutes later, he left this planet.
A procession started at the knoll, and went up the ridge to the memorial grove. A stone had been carved for Dr. Owl, and was passed around the circle. PG began, and ended, his comments with the words “all my relations”. Whoops from a nearby party could be heard throughout the remembrance.
During the day, people continued to pile into the sanctuary. Someone went around the dinner circle Friday night, and counted 225 people. PG long ago learned to be on the edge of the circle closest to the kitchen, and to walk fast the instant the circle broke.
A dance party was held Friday night in the pavilion, with drumming by the fire. Both events were too crowded for PG’s comfort. He went to bed early.
Saturday April 30 The Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence had a procession, to carry merchandise from the storage tent over to the pavilion, for the auction. PG wound up carrying the front part of a large, heavy, picture display. After he picked up his end, a person made a speech that seemed to go on forever. Finally, the procession started, and was soon over.
After lunch, PG was wandering around aimlessly, when the parking commandant appeared. Someone up on the hill has been there a couple of hours, if you want to go relieve him that would be great. At one point, a carload that had been wandering lost arrived, and was ecstatic to have finally arrived in the right spot. After a while, PG had to go back downhill, and get the truck driver to go back up the driveway, and bring a load of gear down. All in a day’s work.
Sunday May 1 This was the first Beltane for PG. He had been to the Maypole dance twice before, in 1987 and 1989,back when it was called Mayday. After the maypole was covered in ribbons, PG put his hands on it, and gave thanks for the 22 years since the last time. *It rained all day on Beltane*.
Monday May 2 After breakfast, there was a heart circle on the knoll. The sun was out, PG got too much on his back. He drew the Knight of Swords card, which told him to go get a shirt. This was not in time to prevent a sunburn.
A friend asked PG if he could use a cell phone. To get the device, and then to ride up to the top of the driveway (the only place at the Sanctuary where there is reception), PG rode in the community golf cart. This was a first, and made PG feel that much more of an insider.
At dinner circle Monday, it was announced that a heavy rainstorm was on the way, and blackberry winter temperatures. It was also mentioned that a car was laying on it’s side, on the road to the parking lot. PG joined the crew of men…three of whom were wearing skirts…that went to push the Ford Tempo upright. On the third push, the vehicle fell back onto four wheels. All the wheels had air, although one looked like it might need fixin soon. As Goatboy said, “This is a first”.
Tuesday May 3  The reports of heavy rain and cold temperatures were not exaggerated. PG spent most of the day wandering around, discovering the limits of water resistance in his gear. This was the last full day of the gathering, and a spectacular dance party was held in the main house. In one room there was a “Soul Train” theme. In the kitchen, there was “Solid Gold”. It was the last outbreak of glitter until the next time.

Today is the National Day of Prayer This is a repost , written in first person. Pictures are from the “Special Collections and Archives,Georgia State University Library”
So much for world affairs. It is time to tell a story, with no moral and no redeeming social value.
In 1980, I was staying at a place called the Sea Haven Hostel, affectionately known as Sleaze Haven. This was in Seattle WA, as far as you can get from Atlanta, and still be in the lower 48. I was working through Manpower, and staying in a semi private room for $68 a month.
There was a Christian group that met in the basement on Sunday Night. Now, as some of you may know, I am a recovering baptist, who hasn’t been to church since 1971. However, the lure of a free meal was hard to resist, so I went to a few meetings.
One night,after doing quality control work on the local beer supply,I cheerfully joined in the discussion. This was the night when I realized that the Bible is not the Word of G-d, a concept that has been very handy in dealing with the clumsy efforts of our Jesus-mad culture to convert me.
They seemed to like me, though, and welcomed me back. Maybe it was the southern accent.
One Sunday, after the dinner was finished , it was time to have a prayer to begin the meeting. I raised my hand.Now, Jesus Worshipers enjoy prayer as entertainment. When they bow their heads, you see them stretching and deep breathing, in anticipation of a good, lengthy, message to G-d.
My message was a bit of a disappointment. Instead of a long winded lecture about Jesus and the magic book, I said what was on my mind. Lord, thank you for letting us be here today. What else do you need to say?

PG was listening to a conversation about a proposal to have a national vote for President. This would seem to be a no brainer. After the nightmare of 2000, where an idiot was chosen to serve as President, after losing the popular vote, it would seem to be the first order of business.
The electoral college system of electing the President has taken away the choice from Georgia voters for years. This is a very very red state. The powers that be know this, and ignore Georgia in the elections. They want to pay attention to states like Ohio, the “swing” states. If John Kerry had gotten 50k more votes in Ohio, then he would have won the election. Never mind that he lost  the popular vote by three million.
Meanwhile, PG looked through his archives for a repeat, and found something that has never been posted. This uplifting story was found at WFMU. Pictures are from The Library of Congress.
Glen McDonald of Vancouver’s Coroner court remembers that he was “about to leave [the] office when the telephone rang … I was looking forward to a gin and tonic … It was the dispatcher from Metropolitan Ambulance … Mac, we’ve got a beauty for you.”
McDonald has been asked to retell the story many times. It is the thing of local legend, and no matter how emphatic one’s retelling of this evening is, it is difficult to convince people it is true. It is easily dismissed as urban legend. But in the conservative timber of Coroner McDonald, it is impossible to doubt him. “The Vancouver City Police report … managed to spell the celluloid hero’s name wrong … The news media and everyone else were on the phone … The calls were fast and furious by now … Even the night janitor was talking to The New York Times … I couldn’t help thinking [about] that remark Flynn made about Texas Guinan dying in Vancouver … [Errol Flynn’s] face was sallow and a bit puffy and he looked an awful lot older than fifty years. He looked worn out, wasted … The autopsy concluded that the death was due to “myocardial infarction, coronary thrombosis, coronary atherosclerosis, fatty degeneration of the liver, portal cirrhosis of the liver and diverticulosis of the colon … I am therefore, of the opinion that this death should be classified, in the view of the above noted autopsy findings, as having been due to natural causes.” The belongings found on his person were itemized and bagged: eighty dollars, a credit card, cigarette lighter, a ring and a gold watch that was monogrammed.”
What followed next is something straight out of Ripley’s Believe it or Not. “An observation [Chief Pathologist] Dr. Tom Harmon made startled me. It concerned a number of VD warts on the end of Flynn’s penis. Tom seemed fascinated. ‘Well, Tom,’ I said, ‘They may be of clinical interest to you as a medical man, but there’s going to be another autopsy done down in Los Angeles. I really don’t think these warts are material to the case. Unless you disagree.’ ‘Perhaps not … But, look, I’m going to be lecturing at the Institute of Pathology and I just thought it might be of interest if I could remove these things and fix them in formaldehyde and use them as a visual aid.’ ‘No way!’ I said. ‘We’re not going to do that. I don’t want anything done that isn’t relevant to the case because we’re really in the limelight tonight. We’re on the hot seat. How can we send Mr. Flynn back to his wife with part of his bloody endowment missing?’ So I insisted on absolutely no change or variation of routine procedures … I left Doc Harmon and Errol Flynn alone in the autopsy room … the telephones were still ringing like mad … The night janitor had become an expert of evading questions … Doc Harmon strolled casually into my office, ‘Well, I’ve finished,’ he said. Tom and I went back to the autopsy room and the first thing I noticed was that the VD warts had gone – vanished from the end of Mr. Flynn’s penis. Then I spotted a jar of formaldehyde on a shelf that looked suspiciously like it might contain VD warts. It did.
“Oh, God! Tom had gone and done it. I sighed and asked the Doc, ‘Did you have to remove those bloody warts … Did Errol Flynn expire because he had warts on his dong?’ Tom looked sheepish but we were both laughing at the utter silliness of the whole thing. ‘Put them back,’ I said, ‘Right now!’ Maybe the Doc had never seen warts of that enormity. Maybe he wanted a souvenir. I never did figure out why but the temptation had been too great … So the bloody warts were fished out of the formaldehyde jar and, using the good offices of scotch tape, Doc Harmon and I stuck them back where they belonged. Everything was back to normal. And I was relieved to learn later, talking with the Chief Coroner in Los Angeles, that a further autopsy was performed and the results concurred in every respect with what we had found. The scotch tape was never mentioned.”

Tuesday was Confederate Memorial Day. It is an ancient question…how to honor the soldiers from the side that lost. They were just as valiant as the Union Soldiers. Considering the shortages of the Confederate Armies, the Rebels may have been just a bit braver.
The issue of Federalism is a defining conflict of the American experience. What powers do we give the Federal Government, and what powers do we cede to the States? The Confederacy was the product of this conflict. The Confederate States were a collection of individual states, with separate armies. This is one reason why the war turned out the way it did.
This is not a defense for slavery. The “Peculiar institution” was a moral horror. The after effects of slavery affect us today. Any remembrance of the Confederacy should know that. This does not make the men who fought any less brave.
It is tough to see the War Between the States through the modern eye. It was a different time, before many of the modern conveniences that are now considered necessities. Many say that the United States were divided from the start, and the fact the union lasted as long as it did was remarkable. When a conflict becomes us against them, the “causes” become unimportant.
The War was a horror, with no pain medicine, and little that could be done for the wounded. It took the south many, many years to recover. The healing continues in many ways today. Remembering the sacrifices made by our ancestors helps.
This is a repost from CMD 2010. Pictures are from the Library of Congress.

It’s national book week: Grab the closest book to you, turn to page 52, post the 5th sentence as your status. Don’t mention the title. Copy the rules as part of your status. That is what the man on facebook said. The book in question here is Gonzo: The Life of Hunter S. Thompson. It was not the closest book to the work station either… it was on the marbletop table by the front door, sincerely hoping to be returned to the library before PG leaves town.
Rules are being violated. Oh Lord, call the meme police. Before you snitch out PG, remember this is Dr. Hunter Stockton Thompson we are talking about. Breaking the rules was hard wired into his DNA, even when it was to his advantage to obey the regulations. Tell ya what, we will compromise, and post the correct sentence,from the proper page. As to the technicality of whether it is the fifth sentence, the fifth complete sentence, or a sentence referring to a fifth of a gallon of Chivas…you just have to trust the author to tell the truth.
” I moved to San Francisco in ’59, and Hunter came out shortly after that, and then Sandy joined them a little later”. HST wound up living on a tract of land near Big Sur. The site became the location of the Esalen Institute. Joan Baez lived nearby, but did not approve of Hunter hunting.
The meme is *reproduced* at NBW . In the spirit of lazy, copy paste blogging, here are a few.
“And joyfully laughing, he continued to lead her along toward the dining room” /// “Gross anatomy provides the medical student with what is very often his or her first exposure to a dead body; as such, it has long been considered a vital, necessary step in the doctor’s education.” /// “It was a Thursday, the first time, I was wiping down the kitchen table and mother was standing by the window.” /// “Harry, your eyesight really is awful,” said Hermione, as she put on glasses. “/// “I also found some rum in the great cabin, of which I took a large dram, and which I had, indeed, need enough of to spirit me for what was before me.”
Another tumblr facility adds frosting to the cake. “The blind stenched out their arms, looking for each other, though not the girl with dark glasses who made it quite clear that she had no intention of walking in front of that shameless creature who had touched her up, at last the line was formed, the thief changing places with first blind man, with the doctor between them.” /// “He went on with his tea.” /// “makes me not fit in, and is it…world, or is it in my head?” ”
There is actually a blog called Good Reads . That must be like the packs of ketchup you get, which always say “fancy ketchup”, even though it is the same squalid tomato mush as plain ketchup. Or, in the spirit of TV shows with canned laughter, so you know when something is funny. At any rate, the meme metastasizes, until it cannot be ignored any longer.
“I looked up at the blind poster eye in the ceiling. “// “Colette tried to avoid our lesson this morning by complaining of a mysterious illness,” tattled Jeannine. “/// “You’re IPCA?’ one of the vamps asked.”// He si pretty hot. /// “Some rich gentleman lives out there.” /// “Hello there, young Cassandra.” /// “Well, lamb, she did not feel very well for a while yesterday, but that is all over and she was never in any danger of dying this time.”/// “No looking ahead.” /// “He looked at his ripped sleeve and his grazed hand and his torn trousers. “/// “Oh, the lawyers and solicitors, Messrs.”/// “And he was her family, or he soon would be.”

When you type the word gonzo into the amazon search facility, you are given several choices. You can buy gonzo stain remover, gonzo muppett, gonzo odor eliminator, gonzo shirt, gonzo the art, and gonzo the life and work of dr. hunter s. thompson. All of these products are covered in a book PG is wading through, Gonzo: The Life of Hunter S. Thompson.
There is lots of speculation about the G word ( Gonzo, not G-d, although they may have more in common than some suppose. It is safe to say that no one claims “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas” to be the word of G-d.). Lord, lets not get caught on the barbed hook of religion, this is supposed to be a review of a book about Horseshit, or  Hunter S Thompson, who has the same initials.
Getting back to Gonzo, it was a cajun expression meaning “to play unhinged.” A man named James Booker recorded a track called “Gonzo”, which is embedded in this commentary. HST played the song non stop, which was not amusing to fellow journalists. One of these people was a Boston fuddy duddy, who called HST “the gonzo man”, and said that in Boston bars, Gonzo meant the last man standing. You can’t believe everything that you hear or read. Taste and feeling are equally suspect, but you can believe what you smell. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, while ugly uses all five senses.
PG used to read a bunch of celebrity biographies, and there is a pattern. They are born, and have childhoods. Somehow, they get a break, and become famous. The fame period lasts a certain time, but the bad habits they acquire last a lifetime. After they have seen the mountaintop (or the place in the Nevada mountains where the high water of the sixties broke up into the sewage of the seventies), there is no where to go but down. Tallulah Bankhead was surrounded by “caddies”, these young queens so enamored of her presence that they put up with her increasingly awful behavior. “A day away from Tallulah is like a month in the country”.
HST fell into this mind trap of duality. Apparently his prodigious intake of substances never slowed down, until he was in a wheelchair towards the end. He was writing a sports column for ESPN in his latter days, about 300 pound samoan quarterbacks who will take the NFL by storm. PG had not read anything by HST in years, and was almost surprised that he was still alive.
The ever facilitative dangerousminds has a BBC show about HST. The show was produced in 1978, a few years after the abdication of Richard Nixon, and into the regime of Jimmy Carter. Smiling Jimmy is not mentioned in this telefilm, but there is a conversation between HST and John Dean. In the rest of the show, HST and sidekick Ralph Steadman drive around in the desert between Las Vegas and Hollywood. You see the place in the high desert where the wave of the sixties broke, setting off the tsunami of Nancy Reagan just saying no, and hiring drug runners to ship guns to  terrorists.
PG has sixty or so more pages to go on this book, and wonders if it will happen. Thursday morning is a ride up to Tennessee, and the book needs to be back at the library before then. It is not worth an overdue fine. The fun is over, and all that is left if for HST to decline and die. Buy the ticket, take the ride. And play dumb when you learn that the phrase is a registered trademark.

Atlanta is composed mostly of one-way streets. The only way to get out of downtown Atlanta is to turn around and start over when you reach Greenville, South Carolina … All directions start with, ‘Go down Peachtree’ and include the phrase, ‘When you see the Waffle House’….’Except in Mayretta , where all directions begin with, “Go to the Big Chicken”…’ Peachtree Street has no beginning and no end and is not to be confused with: Peachtree Circle, Peachtree Place, Peachtree Lane, Peachtree Road, Peachtree Terrace, Peachtree Avenue,Peachtree Battle Road, Peachtree Corners, New Peachtree, Old Peachtree, West Peachtree,or Peachtree Industrial Boulevard… Atlantans only know their way to work and their way home. If you ask anyone for directions,they will always send you down Peachtree… Atlanta is the home of Coca-Cola. Coke’s all they drink there so don’t ask for any other soft drink unless it’s made by Coca-Cola.. Even if you want something other than a Coca-Cola, it’s still called Coke…The 8 am rush hour is from 6:30 to 10:30 AM… The 5 pm rush hour is from 3:00 to 7:30 PM… Friday’s rush hour starts Thursday afternoon and lasts through 2 am Saturday… Only a native of Atlanta can pronounce Ponce De Leon Avenue, so do not attempt the Spanish pronunciation. People will simply tilt their heads to the right and stare at you. The Atlanta pronunciation is ‘pawntz duh LEE-awn.’… And yes, there is a street named simply, ‘Boulevard.’It becomes Monroe Drive when you cross Ponce de Leon The falling of one raindrop causes all drivers to immediately forget all traffic rules… If a single snowflake falls, the city is paralyzed for three days and it’s on all the channels as a news flash every 15 minutes for a week. Overnight, all grocery stores will be sold out of milk, bread, bottled water, toilet paper, and beer… I-285, the loop that encircles Atlanta, has a posted speed limit of 55 mph (but you have to maintain 80 mph just to keep from getting run over)…It is known as The Perimeter, and the Watermelon 500… In Atlanta you are either ITP ( Inside the Perimeter) or OTP ( Outside the Perimeter). ITP and OTP people are wary of each other… Don’t believe the directional markers on highways: I-285 is marked East and West but you may be going North or South. The locals identify the direction by referring to the ‘Inner Loop’and the ‘Outer Loop. Some call the whole dern thing “The Fruit Loop”… Never buy a ladder or mattress in Atlanta . Just go to one of the interstates and you will soon find one in the middle of the road…The last thing you want to do is give another driver the finger, unless your car is armored, your trigger finger is itchy and your AK-47 has a full clip… Possums sleep in the middle of the road with their feet in the air… There are 5,000 types of snakes and 4,998 live in Georgia … There are 10,000 types of spiders. All 10,000 live in Georgia, plus a couple no one has seen before… If it grows, it sticks… If it crawls, it bites… If you notice a vine trying to wrap itself around your leg, you have about 20 seconds to escape, before you are completely captured and covered with Kudzu…It’s not a shopping cart, it’s a buggy… ‘Fixinto’ is one word (I’m fixinto go to the store)… Sweet Tea is appropriate for all meals and you start drinking it when you’re 2 years old…’Jeet?’ is actually a phrase meaning ‘Did you eat?’… ’Momma-nem’ means: How’s Mother and all of the other children and other members of the family doing…. This is a repost. Despite the economic unpleasantness, people come to our fine city everyday. They need all the help they can get. Pictures are from ” The Special Collections and Archives,Georgia State University Library”.

Dear Dangerous Minds , Thank you for using your website to promote our leading global brand. The U2 corporation appreciates your support and will be happy to reward you with a generous cheque and a selection of merchandise of your choosing. I recommend the realistic full body latex Bono suit complete with wraparound shades and arsehole vortex. Yours Sincerely, Bono Vox
April 18th, 2011 12:41 pm So far, the best news I have heard for Republicans and the Country for the 2012 election is that Ralph Reed intends to sa tay out of the election. After all, he’s already done enough damage to Republicans and the nation. Unfortunately, Karl Rove is still in the races.
Ralph and Karl and George W. Bush just about destroyed the conservative renaissance in the country by trying to persuade Republicans to embrace massive immigration, chase black religious fundamentalists who are politically liberal (and won’t vote Republican), and ignore the vast blue collar constituency who voted Republican beginning with Reagan and who are basically conservative. Along with Rap Music, the media, affirmative action, wall street, political correctness and enternet fundraising, Rove, Reed, and Bush paved the way for Barack Obama to be elected President with eight years of RINO rule.
There was a small town once, with a Catholic Church, a Baptist Church, and a Jewish Synagouge. One day the Catholics decided to give their priest a new car. They got an Audi, sprinkled a few drops of holy water on the hood, and gave it to the priest. The Baptists thought this was a really good idea, and they decided to give their pastor a new vehicle. They got a Ford pickup truck,took it to a boat ramp, hooked a winch up to the front, and lowered the truck into the lake until it was completely covered in water. Not to be outdone, the Jewish congregation decided their rabbi needed a new ride. They bought a Lexus, and cut half an inch off the tail pipe.
Friday, April 22, 2011 07:38 AM ET You people are PATHETIC. This is the Democrat Party. These are the Liberals.They love everything that is SHIT. And they hate everything that is GOOD. They love Criminals. They loooove that piece of Pig Shit SCUM – MUMIA. A Cop Killer, who put a round in a young Police Officer’s head, as he lay on the ground, bleeding. Killing him in cold blood. They love Communist Dictators and Mass Murderers. Lenin. Stalin. Mao. Pol Pot. Castro. Che Guevara. The Sandinistas. The Shining Path. Hugo Chavez.How many hundreds of MILLIONS, of their own people, did they butcher? How many KILLING FIELDS did they create?
Liberals hate our Armed Forces. The people who allow them, to say and do, the stupid shit, that they say and do. They would be shot in the head, in any of their beloved Worker’s Paradises, if they pulled their shit, there.They love anyone that we’re fighting. They loved the Communists. Still do. They loved the Viet Cong. They’ve done nothing but worry, about the poor Muslim Terrorists, down in Gitmo.





Oh. the Humanity of it all. Our evil troops, pouring water over the faces of the Masterminds of 911. Pouring water on to a towel, draped over their faces, with a Doctor, standing bye, in the room. Oh these poor men. How evil are we, that we would do such a thing to people who just Murdered 3,000 INNOCENT Men, Women, and Children. 30% of Liberals still believe, that George Bush had the CIA blow up those buildings.  Liberals love the Palestinians. The “Terrorist” Palestinians. How many THOUSANDS have they murdered? How many School Buses full of children, have they blown up? They danced in the streets on 911. They handed out sweets and candy. Just like they did the other day, when a 3 MONTH OLD BABY GIRL, and her family, had their throats slit, by the Brave Palestinian Freedom Fighters. Liberals don’t care about IRAN. They love Assad’s Syria. They did nothing as the GENOCIDE went on, in Rwanda. They did nothing, as the Christians were SLAUGHTERED in Sudan. I could go on and on, but, you get the point. Which brings us to Sarah Palin. The woman who is the personification of the Feminist’s Wet Dream. She’s got it all. A Family and a Career. And, she did it on her own.Wife. Mom. School Board Member. Oil Trading Commissioner. Mayor. Governor. Vice Presidential Candidate. She didn’t need a MAN, to get where she’s gotten. She didn’t need to tottle on, in her husband’s shadow, being the “Good Wife” as he constantly HUMILIATED her in public. She didn’t have to sit bye, as her Husband had affair after affair. As he was Charged in Court, for Indecent Exposure. Charged with RAPE, on National Television. Charged with Groping and Rubbing himself against a woman, on National Television. Charged with Wetting his Cigars inside a young female Intern. Cause you need the end of it WET, if you’re gonna be smoking it, while your Intern has your Cock in her mouth.  Right, Hillary? But the Liberals LOOOOOOVE Hillary. She’s a Feminist, ya know. A self made woman.Sarah Palin?”That’s not her baby!”Pathetic.
A little girl stood near a small church from which she had been turned away because it was ‘too crowded.’ ‘I can’t go to Sunday School,’ she sobbed to the pastor as he walked by. Seeing her shabby, unkempt appearance, the pastor guessed the reason and, taking her by the hand, took her inside and found a place for her in the Sunday school class. The child was so happy that they found room for her, and she went to bed that night thinking of the children who have no place to worship Jesus.
Some two years later, this child lay dead in one of the poor tenement buildings. Her parents called for the kindhearted pastor who had befriended their daughter to handle the final arrangements. As her poor little body was being moved, a worn and crumpled red purse was found which seemed to have been rummaged from some trash dump. Inside was found 57 cents and a note, scribbled in childish handwriting, which read: ‘This is to help build the little church bigger so more children can go to Sunday School.’ For two years she had saved for this offering of love.
When the pastor tearfully read that note, he knew instantly what he would do. Carrying this note and the cracked, red pocketbook to the pulpit, he told the story of her unselfish love and devotion. He challenged his deacons to get busy and raise enough money for the larger building. But the story does not end there…. A newspaper learned of the story and published It. It was read by a wealthy realtor who offered them a parcel of land worth many thousands. When told that the church could not pay so much, he offered to sell it to the little church for 57 cents.
Church members made large donations. Checks came from far and wide.. Within five years the little girl’s gift had increased to $250,000.00–a huge sum for that time (near the turn of the century). Her unselfish love had paid large dividends. When you are in the city of Philadelphia , look up Temple Baptist Church , with a seating capacity of 3,300.. And be sure to visit Temple University, where thousands of students are educated. Have a look, too, at the Good Samaritan Hospital and at a Sunday School building which houses hundreds of beautiful children, built so that no child in the area will ever need to be left outside during Sunday school time.
In one of the rooms of this building may be seen the picture of the sweet face of the little girl whose 57 cents, so sacrificially saved, made such remarkable history. Alongside of it is a portrait of her kind pastor, Dr. Russell H. Conwell, author of the book, ‘Acres of Diamonds’. This is a true story, which goes to show WHAT GOD CAN DO WITH 57 CENTS.
Pictures today from The Library of Congress

Seven years ago today, Pat Tillman died in Afghanistan. Today is Good Friday. It is a Good Friday to watch The Tillman Story. A radio whiner, who supports our wars ,says “The truth will make you mad”. What he doesn’t say is,  the lies make you even madder.
One of the army people said the Tillman family was so upset about this matter because of their atheism. When he came under fire, one of Cpl. Tillman’s men started to pray. Cpl. Tillman told him to quit praying, that G-d was not the problem, to stay focused on what was happening. Then he was killed, and the memorials to him were used as propaganda for the war.
Someone tells a story of Mrs. Tillman, how she finished last in a marathon. In 1996, the Olympic marathon runner from Afghanistan was injured, and ran five minutes behind the rest of the field. They both finished the course.
The Tillman family was a remarkable, determined bunch, with a high profile. One wonders how often this happens, and how often the Army gets away with murder. Pictures today from The Library of Congress