Archive for February, 2007

Non-Binding House Resolution

Friday, February 16th, 2007

Is promoting a non-binding resolution the same thing as lacking resolve?

It is a good thing this current batch of Democrat law makers were not in Philadelphia in the summer of \’76. I can just imagaine what they would have done with the Declaration of Independence, if that document had even made it to the floor. The noble men who affixed their signatures to that near-holy writ committed themselves, their families, freedom and fortunes to the cause of liberty. The notion of floating, instead, a non-binding resolution taking exception to the actions of King George is laughable in light of what was really at stake. But those were men of courage and their document meant something.

This current crop of lesser leaders is illustrative of how far the nation has drifted from the cause of freedom, a concept now meaningful only as it regards sexual expression and other hedonistic enterprises. Still, as freedom presupposes the right to do wrong, these people are free to speak and act foolishly (unlike former NBA players). It is not the first time leadership has failed the followers.

Osama was apparently right; America doesn\’t have the will to see this conflict through to a victorious conclusion. The radical mullahs are right about America\’s descent into moral and spiritual degeneracy. How tightly the tares are bound to the terrorists.

Still America remains the Shining City in spite of the shadow cast upon the Hill by those who have not taken the time to test their tired ideologies against the dawning of near-apocalyptic events or the luminescence of historically legitimate leadership.

Good-bye Vicky Lynn

Friday, February 9th, 2007

Why do so many of our culture’s celebrities meet their fate as victims of drug overdose? It is an easy question to answer but one should first examine the culture of celebrity.

Most of the icons we call stars are feted for being someone other than who they are. Many even change their names; Norma Jean becomes Marilyn, Vicky Lynn became Anna Nicole. In the coming weeks we will witness the worship of the little golden statues. We will laude the delivery and the livery of the luminous as they glide giddily above the crimson carpet beneath arc lights that wave against the glowing sky that crowns every Hollywood night. We will suffer the compulsory self-congratulatory reverie that accompanies each pulp-artful attempt at eloquence by those who ordinarily lead more scripted lives.

We publicly hope against hope that the comedian hired to hold it all together can sustain the guffaws for the duration of the show but we privately plead for at least one good gaffe, one king-sized faux pas that makes the investment of 180 minutes worth at least one good laugh at the water cooler the following morning. We shower our stars with adulation all the while oohing and ahhing as they flame-out in meteoric splendor.

Who are these people we appear to adore? We love them precisely because they are not who they are but rather who we pay them to pretend to be. And why: is it because in our own lives of quiet desperation we cry out to be who we are not? Hollywood has always fed upon this fact. It was never the popcorn (though a case could be made for Milk Duds).

The problem for those who reach the pinnacle of success, regardless of the venue, is this; if they haven’t arrived in the company of God they will be utterly alone. The soul cries to be filled and fulfilled and if not properly filled with God, the vessel will attempt to content itself with food, or booze, or sex, TV or harder drugs. In a quest to satisfy the hole in the gaping soul, distractions become addictions and addictions become religions, but less than a lifestyle. Based on the popularity of the painting of Marillyn, Elvis and James Dean hanging out in the all night diner it might more aptly be viewed as a deathstyle.

This is true for all of us but it is more glaring among the beautiful people. The paparazzi’s blitz preserves the flashing smile. Jewels sparkle and gowns shimmer in the floodlight. The shallow glow illuminates their faces but hides that which resides within each who lean too heavily on the arm of flesh; stark naked loneliness.

Send Me

Thursday, February 1st, 2007

SEND ME

I dreamt I met Miss Liberty and in my dream she asked of me
“Who will keep my people free?”

She lowered the lamp she held in her hand.
“Who will defend this wonderful Land?”
“Who will protect the Land of the Free?”
I gazed in her eyes and answered, “Send me”.

Send me.
I will go and I will do.
Send me
I’ll be faithful, brave and true
Send me
I’ll stand beside my friends
Send me
And we’ll battle till we win
Send me

I promise to remember that Tuesday in September
When the enemies of freedom took to flight
Our metal isn’t measured in concrete, glass and steel
But in our courage when we’re challenged to a fight

Send me.
I will go and I will do.
Send me
I’ll be faithful, brave and true
Send me

They don’t know who they’re messing with
in this Land that God keeps blessin’ with
sons and daughters brave and true
who’d give their lives for me and you

Send me.
I will go and I will do.
Send me
I’ll be faithful, brave and true
Send me

So who will keep this nation free?
I will, Lady Liberty,
I’ll keep the faith with history
To pass on what was left to me
Send me

Send me.
I will go and I will do.
Send me
I’ll be faithful, brave and true
Send me
They’ll hear this Rebel Yell
Send me
And I’ll send them straight to hell
Send me