Have you ever re-watched a sad movie, hoping that this time the outcome will be different? Welcome to the world today. Only it’s not a movie.
Babies. They beheaded babies. They are proud of it. It is particularly troubling when acts are so horrific that people of good will are sad that they are not there to personally kill the offenders. But that was my instant, immutable response to a video I saw on Saturday.
The bill is coming due, and it will get paid one way or another.
My grief-stricken niece, a nurse, this week had to explain to her 7-year-old son that his daddy would not be coming home from the hospital. That heartbreaking duty followed a stressful month.
In our group-based-grievance society, one minority has been almost entirely ignored and is constantly discriminated against. It makes up about 11 percent of the population. It is not something its members choose, but its effects reach into every aspect of their lives.
There was a time when respite was available, when for a couple of hours each week one could wipe his brow and smile. The restorative power of two hours of happiness is not to be underestimated.
The shampoo was cheap — as in $1.49 for a half gallon — but, hey, it was a name brand, so why not? When I used it I was rendered nearly unconscious by the amount of perfume in it. I’m not talking a nice scent, either, but rather the sort of thing you’d expect to find on the last-resort utility shelf at a mortuary, for use when the departed is past his bury-by date.
Much has been written in the last 75 years about how the U.S. gained an edge in the Pacific in World War II when the Japanese code was broken. In recent weeks it turns out I may have been trying to recreate that feat, and have begun to understand the challenges those skilled codebreakers faced.
This will be short because everything it says is so obvious. Do you follow the news? The allegedly shoo-in candidates for their respective parties’ presidential nomination have less principle and morals than a mosquito.