It takes everyone liberal and conservative to run the politics of the engine we call America! Patrotic American warriors defend with their life the right of pacifists to hold the wrong opinions. The Blogmaster harbors some populist ideas and believes in free enterprise as opposed to corporate monopoly capitalism. This is a mostly GOP friendly blog. jdm
They borrow the money at high rates from international sources like China, Saudia Arabia, oil rich Muslims and other international bankers!>
Then they make it available to the disaster victims at no interest or low interest adding huge bureaucratic handling charges and pass it on to the National Debt which in case you don't know is a giant Credit Card with all our names on it and an unlimited credit line. Make no mistake about it the holders of the credit line will collect from your and your neighbors grandchildren long after the politicians are out of office and buried with honors.
The victims and the non victim citizens get to start paying it back thru immediate increased tax burdens.
If the politicians want to have bragging rights about their generosity ...let them use their own money and not the money of the people they are being generous to. We all did not just get off the turnip truck!The debt game...
When politicians (of both parties) talk about the debt, they don't like talking about $9 trillion, so they add up all the funds and talk about the "debt held by the public." They call this the "national debt," and they call its yearly increase the "deficit."
But this way of talking makes it sound like the money put into Social Security and into government and military pensions funds, all of which is borrowed by the General Fund, is not owed to the public. But it is. That money came from everyone's paychecks (FICA) and is owed to them in retirement. Every president has promised to keep that money safe. So, really, the whole $9 trillion is owed to the public.
In fact, over $2 trillion of what they call "held by the public" is actually held by foreign interests, while 100% of what is owed by Social Security is owed to Americans.
The national debt has been accumulated thru the wars we have been thru but a sizable portion of the debt comes from the pork barrel projects that buy votes for incumbents plus here is a little
left over from Korea and WWII.
Support Senator Coburn's efforts to put the budget on the Internet in readable form with all pork listed with the porkers names.
The time is now!
How can you set there with that smug look on your face ...
eternity comes fast and you don't know your place ...
Fate is standing in the dark shadows playing to your pride ...
and here you are unconcerned like time was on your side ...
The day will come when your ladder of life has no more rungs ...
and all your choices will expire with the breath in your lungs. ..
The nearest Bible can help you make your choice of eternal habitation ...
for you can find Christ Jesus in every book from Genesis to Revelation. ..
jdm2006/02/09"
posted on
http://tinychapel.blogspot.com
Want to talk about eternity?
mailto:jdmartin@pldi.net
Poem of my youth...composed on October 23, 2006
Tracks of a friend in the snow
I have lain on the path of bone chilling fear ...
watched as the death angel hovered near ...
Midnight I rode the trail where black lion stalked ...
my steed snorting his course stayed.. balked ...
I lost my seat and the moon swirled around ...
my head was the first to kiss frozen ground ...
My body bounced down the Arbuckles crag ...
the earth drank my blood and there I laid ...
and dreamed the dream of death’s opening door ...
of life unlived and path’s untracked with joy untasted ...
my future my claim on living gone as I lay wasted ...
but awareness came as light chased away the night ...
My companion grazed close by had kept the cat away ...
snow tracks around my death bed testified to his stay ...
my shirt red soaked with life’s precious fluid staining the ground ...
I drug my pain racked body to the saddle and started down ...
past the still waiting mountain lion eyes peering from thick weeds ...
the smell of my blood kept him waiting to quench his savage needs ...
I looked back as he smelled my blood spilled in the snow where I lay ...
then followed us for awhile before turning to find unguarded prey ...
Danpatch went to equine heaven during the next season’s winter strife ...
But in my dreams I still count the tracks of my friend who saved my life.
.
.
jdm10/23/2006 based on a true occurrence with some literary license applied...My dad was a cowboy and Danpatch had been his favorite horse until he was retired to be my horse. At the time of the poem Danpatch was over twenty years old and I was 12.
Don't Tread on My Flag
We must be very concerned about who we elect as President and Commander in Chief...They must be willing to affirm the Christian roots of this country and the heritage of free enterprise and religious freedom. The must disavow any connection to any other world opinion than one that puts American interests first! They must pledge to never be the instrument of American submission to any authority that subverts the High Law of the Constitution of the United States.At the very least as a potential Commander In Chief of United States Armed Forces they must be able pass and receive a personal Top Secret Clearance background check that we demand of our defenders.God Bless the USA Keep us Free!
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Opinion Oklahoma
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You're nobody til 51 percent loves you
You're nobody til 51 percent cares
You may be Senator
You may possess the lobeyists and all their gold
But gold won't bring you a happy election
Why ...you are already old
The world still is the same, you will never change it
As sure as the stars shine above
You're nobody til 51 percent loves you
So find yourself somevoters to love
Hey Senator you missed the boat by being a fake conservative. Palin for President in 10
The world still is the same, you never change it
As sure as the stars shine above
Well, you're nobody til 51 percent loves you
So find yourself somevoters to love<
Mine own self I write to gratifie....John Bunyun of Pilgrims Progess said it best..
". . . I did not thinkTo shew to all the World my Pen and InkIn such a mode; I only thought to makeI knew not what: nor did I undertakeThereby to please my Neighbour; no not I;I did it mine own self to gratifie."
I write here in Oklahoma Opinion my heartfelt opinions some inherited from my father and grandfathers and codified along my 71 year journey from Bromide, Oklahoma to Newcastle, Oklahoma. Read my words, make up your own mind and love your nieghbors and your country.
Poem about my youthful dance with the death angel...composed on October 23, 2006
Tracks of a friend in the snowI have lain on the path of bone chilling fear ... watched as the death angel hovered near ... Midnight I rode the trail where black lion stalked ... my steed snorting his course stayed.. balked ... I lost my seat and the moon swirled around ... my head was the first to kiss frozen ground ... My body bounced down the Arbuckles crag ... the earth drank my blood and there I laid ... and dreamed the dream of death’s opening door ... of life unlived and path’s untracked with joy untasted ... my future my claim on living gone as I lay wasted ... but awareness came as light chased away the night ... My companion grazed close by had kept the cat away ... snow tracks around my death bed testified to his stay ... my shirt red soaked with life’s precious fluid staining the ground ... I drug my pain racked body to the saddle and started down ... past the still waiting mountain lion eyes peering from thick weeds ... the smell of my blood kept him waiting to quench his savage needs ... I looked back as he smelled my blood spilled in the snow where I lay ... then followed us for awhile before turning to find unguarded prey ... Danpatch went to equine heaven during the next season’s winter strife ... But in my dreams I still count the tracks of my friend who saved my life.
. . jdm10/23/2006 based on a true occurrence with some literary license applied...My dad was a cowboy and Danpatch had been his favorite horse until he was retired to be my horse. At the time of the poem Danpatch was over twenty years old and I was 12. Gosh I miss him!