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THE STARS RETURN

Posted by LadyLiberty on Saturday, July 05, 2008 1:15:21 AM
Episode 42:  The *Stars *Return*

(At Link's wedding, finding sanctuary in the lower room of Zion)
 
Link:  Ok, I'm going to need a few moments now.  Alone.
 
Timeus:  Sure. Not having second thoughts are you?
 
Link:  (laughing)  No worries. The first thoughts were on the mark. No need for revisions. Just want to hold to that originalist line.
 
Timeus:  That's the spirit. And you've come to the right place. I'll see you in the chancel, Link. (Closes the door behind him)
 
Link:  Well...(looks up) you're with me, right?  (looks around the room and eyes a passage of Scripture:
 
10For as the rain cometh down, and the snow from heaven, and returneth not thither, but watereth the earth, and maketh it bring forth and bud, that it may give seed to the sower, and bread to the eater:

 11So shall my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth: it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it.

All right. I am not without gratefulness, but perhaps you have overly blessed me with forgetfulness. Please. Help me to remember my gratefulness to Ann and you. Every day. Please help me, Lord. I will listen. I will honor your Word today. And always. (bows his head) Amen.
 
Echo of Abraham:  ...the work now before all those who would prevent that consummation.
 
Link:  Huh?  Reading my mind, namesake? Nobody's going to prevent this consummation; we're at polar opposites now. We need to "indorse" this consummation precisely to prevent another political dynasty. I am not a fool for the appearance of things.
 
Echo of Abraham:  Good. You can fool all the people some of the time, and some of the people all the time, but you cannot fool all the people all the time. 
 
Link:  Thank you, father Abraham. All in all, I'd say we've arrived at that last sticking point. What was it you said...in The House Divided?
 
Echo of Abraham:  Such a decision is all that slavery now lacks of being alike lawful in all the States. Welcome, or unwelcome, such decision is probably coming, and will soon be upon us, unless the power of the present political dynasty shall be met and overthrown. We shall lie down pleasantly dreaming that the people of Missouri are on the verge of making their State free, and we shall awake to the reality instead, that the Supreme Court has made Illinois a slave State. To meet and overthrow the power of that dynasty, is the work now before all those who would prevent that consummation. That is what we have to do. How can we best do it?
 
Link:  Yes. Ok. "Indorsing" the consummation this time around and preventing the return of the old political dynasty is our reversal of misfortune. But a rose by any other name than slavery? Would you say, socialism, communism, fascism, for example? The liberal  H.G. Wells version in slow doses over a century?

True, no whips and chains from the S&Mers outside of the leather club, just a constant chipping away, a slow defacement, a spiritual erasure until we're back to square 1: the progressive's regressive illusion of inequality and a mere change of masters.
 
 
If you don't submit to their categorical imperatives: the color-coding, gender bending brain tics of the plantation masters who are too busy minding your business to mind their own, then you will have to be muzzled.
 
Oh, wait a minute, that wasn't you...the illusion of inequality. That was Chesterton:
 
In truth it is inequality that is the illusion. The extreme disproportion between men, that we seem to see in life, is a thing of changing lights and lengthening shadows. a twilight full of fancies and distortions. We find a man famous and cannot live long enough to find him forgotten; we see a race dominant and cannot linger to see it decay. It is the experience of men that always returns to the equality of men; it is the average that ultimately justifies the average man. It is when men have seen and suffered much and come at the end of their elaborate experiments, that they see men under an equal light of death and daily laughter; and none the less mysterious for being many. Nor is it in vain that these Western democrats have sought the blazonry of their flag in that great multitude of immortal lights that endure behind the fires we see, and gathered them into the comer of Old Glory whose ground is like the glittering night. For veritably, in the spirit as well as in the symbol, suns and moons and meteors pass and fill our skies with a fleeting and almost theatrical conflagration; and wherever the old shadow stoops upon the earth, the stars return.
 
Yes, Chesterton. What is America? Or, what was America, then, by alchemy, was transformed from equal in the eyes of God to equal in the outcomes of Man...and seditious Nannies. 
 
Echo of Abraham:  A mere change of masters...
 
Link:  Yeah, that's the link.
 
Echo of Abraham:  No pun intended.
 
Link:  Hey, that's my line.  The equality is liberty for all, the inalienable right from our transcendent Creator whose ordered liberty, being objective, is not subject to subjective alienation: that power grab when reason and self-reliance are forsaken by the overlords from the underworld.
 
Echo of Abraham:  All this is not the result of accident. It has a philosophical cause. Without the Constitution and the Union, we could not have attained the result; but even these, are not the primary cause of our great prosperity. There is something back of these, entwining itself more closely about the human heart. That something, is the principle of "Liberty to all"—the principle that clears the path for all—gives hope to all—and, by consequence, enterprize, and industry to all.

The expression of that principle, in our Declaration of Independence, was most happy, and fortunate. Without this, as well as with it, we could have declared our independence of Great Britain; but without it, we could not, I think, have secured our free government, and consequent prosperity. No oppressed, people will fight, and endure, as our fathers did, without the promise of something better, than a mere change of masters

Link:  Yeah, that's it.  The way back. From the letter of the law, back to its Spirit. That's why you were victorious.
 
(From the choir in the chancel)
 
Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
let me hide myself in thee;
let the water and the blood,
from thy wounded side which flowed,
be of sin the double cure;
save from wrath and make me pure.
 
Oh, Ann!  Oh! (Runs up the steps two at a time to The Wedding Song, There is Love)
 
(Now, The Wedding March as Ann and her father slowly march down the aisle)
 
************************************************************************************
 
(Two weeks later at the Keepsake, Olam and Freiah's home)
 
Olam:  Well, Happy Independence Day, all!
 
Keepers:  Hear Hear!
 
Olam: ...All ye good people, united in your independence. And ye may be gods, but there is only one God. I will do my best to remind myself, foremost, of that during the next few weeks as we pursue this Leadership course in this third most important election in the history of our country--the first being the first, the second being Lincoln's election to save the House Divided, the third, 2008, when the American people renew our sovereign and Constitutional Republic, wresting it from the 100-year reign of the shape-shifting overlords from the underworld.
 
Though our Congress is replete with dead wood, half our Judiciary tyrannical if not treasonous, and our Presidential hopefuls in training for One World governance, the vast majority of the American CITIZENRY--I must emphasize what used to be unstated because understood--will rally in their going Forward, the American Way. The revolutionary specialists in innovative change really don't need overlords in this congenital capacity.
 
Our treasured best in this renewal will be: Townhall's square where current social and political analysis will inform and Heritage.org where the Leadership plan for America is well underway.  Many other "conservative"--translation: classical liberal American--sites will be crucial in righting our country's listed course. Claremont.org, American Solutions, GOPUSA, the Patriot Post, National Review, American Thinker, and many more.
 
Plus all the talk radio patriots who have broken up the anti-American monopoly of historical revisionism that the "Fairness" doctrine unfairly mandated. Broadcaster freedom, like free speech, is here to stay. Get used to arguing with the facts not fancy; it's the grown-up American way.
 
The overriding strategy of this third revolution to renew our Constitutional Republic is to ask, of each presidential platform, Congressional law, Judicial decree: what does this have to do with OUR Constitution. Name the Article; name the section; name the Amendment.  And be prepared to defend your arguments rationally with all the facts at our disposal, not selecting out those found to be uncomfortable or avoiding responses to pointed questions.
 
The PC nightmare is over; America has woken up, and it's morning again.
 
When the Constitution does not source a candidate's plan for the nation, then the Spirit of the Declaration from the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God must, and any unConstitutional blasphemy will be as that same divided House of cards upon the table. That will fall; this Republic will stand.
 
 
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HONOR TO OUR FAITHFUL FATHERS

Posted by LadyLiberty on Friday, June 13, 2008 1:49:08 PM
Episode 41:  Honor to our Faithful Fathers
 
(This Father's Day Dedicated to the Boy Scouts of America:  Honorable, prepared.)
 
Olam:  (Walking with Jake on the shores of Lake Michigan) So when are your Eagles going to fly to Nebraska?
 
Jake:  Today.   I'll be back for Link's wedding on Sunday.  Gonna have to miss the bachelor party tonight.
 
Olam:  Honor was given to our fathers by these boy scouts who prepared themselves accordingly.  So, first honor the honorably prepared.  Then return and shed that light on any oversleeping bachelors.
 
Jake:  I fear that some of the sons may think that they were not prepared for the whirlwind that hit them and that they failed their fallen brothers.
 
Olam:  Can the children of the bride chamber mourn, as long as the bridegroom is with them?
 
You can take the boy scout from his honorable home, but you can't take the honorable home from the boy scout.
 
Does preparation in this life mean that one will never meet with sorrow?
 
Jake:  No, but when the best and the brightest stars fall, many wonder what's the use and purpose of such a life. Seems so random and unforgiving.
 
Olam:  Well, many have forsaken the navigation of stars in favor of the perfect earthly eternity that defies any risk or dead reckoning.  Any wonder that it is they who have become the walking dead?
 
But honor lives in an honest assessment of nature, both without and within.  Honor lives in accordance with those conditions that can't be changed.  Honor lives in a discernment between those means to which we are capable of adhering and the ends that blow beyond our kith and kin.
 
To  a generation raised up to believe that Man created this world, that he can perfect it according to his whims and preferences, and being all-powerful, can destroy it by the same moving targets of his own convenient lies feigning inconvenient truths--from this life now standing squarely in his way--a sorrowful, but natural reordering should be a mystifying, humbling contrition.
 
So what's the place of the human mind in all of that?  Look no farther than the Boy Scouts of America for the answer. For when a rain-wrapped tornado strikes you faster than the highest-speed radar screen is capable of detecting for warn of shelter, then put to bear your years of preparing for the sake of this moment. 
 
When downed trees forestall emergency services, form triage units and save the wounded yourselves.  When even the Ranger's house is destroyed, and only you and yours can come to his family's rescue, then do your duty. 

Rush to save as many as you are capable of saving, but stand your shaken ground when the bridegroom escorts the rest of the company from the  campground. 
 
Can a whirlwind light your lamp anymore than a sun can stop its cycling spots?
 
Jake:  No. (head bowed)
 
Olam:  All 98 scouts and staff are home where they belong.  And the bridegroom will be with you for the wedding.
 
Jake:  Very well, old friend...of youthful spirit.
 
(Later that night at Link's bachelor party.)
 
Link:  All right now, I'm not messin' wichya so lissen up!  Lissen to your amirable admiral. 
 
Bachelors, buddies and mates:  (Saluting sloppily)  Yo, amirable!
 
Link:  Now, sing it from the bottom of your hearts this time, mates.  We ain't ready for prime time.
 
All:  (singing heartily)  Whaduya do with a drunken sailor, whaduya do with a drunken sailor, whaduya do with a drunken sailor early in the morning?  There she goes (all drink)
 
Link:  And up she rises! (drinks)
 
All:  Thar she blows!  (all drink)
 
Link:  And up he rises! (drinks)
 
All:  Early in the morning!!  (hearty laughter all around)
 
Link:  Ok.  I believe this here choir is fussiciently tuned.  I will now dial my bride and we shall sing high the mastheads for her serenede.  Squared up, sailors?
 
All:  Squared up!  Anchors aweigh. (Link punches the keys)
 
Ann: (foggy throated)  Helloooooo?  Link?  What time is it?
 
Link:  Ooh...(to the celebrants)  she wants to know what time it is.   Whose got the time?
 
Ann:  Link...for God's sake it's 3 AM. What are you doing?  Hasn't that party ended?
 
Link:  Uh oh.  (singing in his best Pastor Al Green impersonation)
 
Something that can make you do right, make you do wrong...wait a minute..somthin's goin' wrong. Someone's on the phone.  Three o'clock in the morning, talkin' 'bout how she can make it right...?
 
Ann:  I'm not gonna make anything right if you keep doin' me wrong.  Now you've got a wedding, day after next, mister.  I'd suggest you put it to rest right about now.  (Hangs up)
 
Link:  Uh oh...is there a sober sailor in the house?  Let him rise to the occasion.
 
A sober sailor:  Sir.  On my honor I can serve thee well.  What are your orders?
 
Link:  Get me the ladder from my garage.  Hoist the sails, and anchors aweigh to my betrothed.  We shall have to serenede her in person.  Are you prepared, mates?  So I can keep my mate?
 
All:  Prepared! Sir!
 
Link:  Now I ain't messin' wichya.   Raise those trumpets!
 
(horn section holds 'em high)
 
Good!  Horns and ladder, my band of brothers. Aweigh!
 
(In short order they arrive noisily at Ann's for a pre-nuptual serenede)
 
Link:  Lemme hear the horn section! 
 
(Horns lead in)
 
Link:  Sweeeet!  (sings out as if he's Pastor Green himself climbing Jacob's ladder)
 
I'm so tired of being alone, I'm so tired of on my own. Won't you help me, girl,  as soon as you can?
 
Ann:  (raises up her window and stares out in astonishment)  What in Heaven's name?  You climbing Jake's ladder?
 
Link:  No, honey, it's all my own.
 
Timeus:  Link!  Come down here.  We serenede on dry land better.  Come on down, buddy.
 
Tu:  Mister Link.  You need to conduct us.   We forget our lyrics, please!
 
Link:  Ok, mates, ok.  I'm coming on down (wobbles his way to earth as the mates hold on)  Ready now?  Rippppp it!
 
Band in chorus:  I!
 
Link: My, my, my!
 
Band in chorus:  Ohhhh, I!
 
Link:  Can turn a grey sky blue.  You see, I can make it rain when I want to.
 
Band:  Ohhhh, I!
 
Link:  can build a castle from a single grain of sand...
 
Ann:  Oh?  And where'd you get that little ol' grain of sand?
 
Link:  Now, hold on.  You see, I can make a ship sail on dry land, children, yeah.
 
Ann:  Some rig.
 
Link:  Uh, huh, brothers, all the powers that I possess, (looks at Ann) but girl, I can't get next to you!
 
Ann:  Not until you speak those vows, beloved.  Something that'll make you do right.
 
Link:  You promise, me Ann?  (He calls out) I've got witnesses. Cuz, you know, Ann,
 
I can think of younger days
when living for my life
was everything a man could want to do.
 
I could never see tomorrow
I was never told about the sorrow...
 
And how can you mend a broken heart?
How can you stop the rain from falling down?
How can you stop the sun from shining?
What makes the world go 'round?
 
Ann, how can you mend this broken man?
How can a loser ever win?
Somebody please, help me mend my broken heart
And let me live again.
 
Ann:  All right. You win.  I promise you, Link...now go home and sleep it off.
 
Link:  Baby, that's my American dream.  Can't be sleeping it off!  I came to pursue it, and I have conquered! 
 
Ann:  Then all hail the conquering hero!
 
Band:  All hail!!! (Band strikes up, singing)
 
All:  Love and happiness.  Love and happiness.  (They sing as they wobble their way to the waiting cars and home.)
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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WIDE-EYED WITNESSING

Posted by LadyLiberty on Tuesday, May 27, 2008 2:19:56 AM
 Wide-Eyed Witnessing
 
(Lily:  As the fish flew and our hearts were touched with fire, I thought of remembrances  past and present. I witnessed a drift from the all-severing wave~~~~:
 
the belief in a duty,
to its skeptical acceptance,
then fixed to the horizon
a wide-eyed duty of belief.
 
I mused, had the judge simply shored up the question "What kind of world is this?" rather than paddling to "What kind of world do you want?",  if there wouldn't now be more civilians faithful to soldiers and natural law.
 
Strange that in this fleeting moment not only the dead of winter, but also those of Memorial Day had come and gone.)
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SEALED, THE LIVING CISTERNS

Posted by LadyLiberty on Wednesday, May 14, 2008 10:12:11 PM
Episode 40:  Sealed, the Living Cisterns
 
Holy Ghost:  For a small moment have I forsaken thee:  but with great mercies will I gather thee.
 
John:  Wrap her in a blanket...
 
Holy Ghost:  The whole head is sick, and the whole heart faint.
 
John:  Where'd Raina go?
 
Mary:  I don't know.  I looked up to ask her to bring some hot tea, but she was gone.
 
John:  I'll call Timeus.  Maybe Sharmayne can stay with Olam and Freiah tonight.
 
(Lightning crack, thunder bolt.  Pilgrims gasping, covering their ears.)
 
Curtis:  Whoa!  What was that?
 
Tom:  No need to call Timeus.  (pointing to the northern edge of the pond)  He's right there.
(Timeus, standing on the north bank, Lily on the south, Olam, the east, Lady Liberty, the west.)
 
Curtis:  How long have they been there?
 
(A sudden lightning cracks, staccato-like, the sky lights up and a whirlwind blows. Pilgrims scream as a volcanic fountain of water bursts the ice. Fish fly.)
 
Olam:  Waters breaking out of the wilderness four-square!
 
Distant Apparition:  Peace, damn heat!!
 
Holy Ghost: (to the apparition)  Make haste...weakener of nations...For lo, the winter is past...
 
Olam:  (to the melting apparition) Would that you had prayed not for peace, but for heat, you and your well taught oppressor children and their women rulers over you. Did you think I would confuse you with the meek--the chosen--who, like you, sinned, but unlike you acknowleged those sins to Hashem in the Promised Land?
 
Weakened one who weakens others.
 
Lady Liberty:  Minister of emptied souls, preaching your poll tax with its baby talk for soul-fixing...
 
Lily:  ...and its new and improved super glue...
 
Pilgrims:  (burst of mocking laughter)
 
Apparition:  Hssssssssssssssssssss...
 
Lady Liberty:  Your broken cisterns set as a mystery glue to fix the living waters and stop the holy seed.
 
Lily:  Your ballyhooing Waterloo by way of Malta. Some seige.
 
Pilgrims:  Wu! Wu!  (laughing)
 
Timeus:  Futile futurist, you hitchhiking highwayman in time's rearview mirror.
 
Lady Liberty:  Broken cistern, so a cistern breaker for your emptied souls, snared in their own holes, hid in prison houses of their own making.  You, their contractor.
 
Apparition:  Hssssssssssssssssssss...
 
Curtis:  Shall one take up a snare from the earth and have taken nothing at all? Snare of the devil takes up not a bird to renew strength, but an empty soul.  Self-righteous swallower of air.  On the road to nowhere Man.
 
Holy Ghost:  Woe unto them that call evil good, and good evil.
 
(Apparition melts into the frozen forest floor for a season.)
 
Holy Ghost:  (to Sharmayne)  Rise up, my love...
 
Timeus:  Arise!
 
Lily:  Shine!
 
Sharmayne:  Wha??  (Eyes blinking)
 
Holy Ghost: ...They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength...
 
Olam:  Renew!
 
Holy Ghost:  I will restore thy judges as at the first, and thy counselors as at the beginning...He that believeth on me, the works that I do shall he do also...
 
Lady Liberty:  Restore!
 
Sharmayne:  Wha happen?  Where am I?
 
Curtis:  Well, you ain't in the Church of What's Happenin' Now, honey.
 
(On yonder ridge top, a shadow inches forward silently, stealthily under the full moon)
 
Raina:  (praying) Wakantanka taku nitawa...
 
Hold my bow, and ride my arrow, Maker.  Sweep your wings. Grant me this blessing.  May your Spirit continue to live in me and in these pilgrims who were once strangers to me--as theirs were strangers to my people. 
 
Neither death nor the devil of a bad spirit fooled me then, or weakens me now.  See me, Creator.  No sorrow past can steal my present faith. I am thanking you with my life, well loved, in gratitude for their sacrifice and yours.
 
(Suddenly a light streaks past the whiz buzz of the sound barrier, striking its drop tine target of 16 points--penetrating cleanly, mercifully, broadside in the vitals, to its last fall.)
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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THE FISH TO BAIT MAN

Posted by LadyLiberty on Wednesday, May 07, 2008 11:29:26 AM
Episode 39:  The Fish To Bait Man
 
Everything seems new to those too young to remember the old and too ignorant of history to have heard about it.
 
(The waning dusk of the sixth hunting shift)
 
Benjamin:  He didn't jump the bow, but he sure leapt out of further buckshot.
 
Timeus:  Past time to bag some game.  Let's track him.  He can't go far, and there's a full moon rising.
 
(On Barrett Pond.  John, Curtis and Tom in one of the Fish Trap Voyagers.)
 
Tom:  You're not gonna scare up any Brown Trout in deeper waters.  This is not the season for it.  Just stay put, or the paltry stock we have will scatter.
 
Curtis:  Well, let's hope that buckshot hit home then.  Another night of carrot soup and the skin turns orange.  One more grievance group for the color coders.
 
Tom:  You'll survive our last day in the wilderness, softie.  
 
(buckshot reverb)
 
Curtis:  What was that?
 
Tom:  Hopefully our dinner.
 
Curtis:  Nah, sounded like a rooster crowing.
 
John:  Now you're hearing things.  Buckshot reverb.
 
Tom:  Yeah.  Nice projection.  Like seeks like, chicken, in the little red, white and blue hen house.  Just one of the aparatchiks lookin' to be spoon fed, eh?
 
Curtis:  No. For real.  Listen up...
 
Apparition:  America's CHICKens come home to ROOST!  Lemme hear you say, "Amen!"
 
Raina, Mary, Sharmayne:  (In the adjacent Fish Trap Voyager)  Amen!!
 
Curtis:  Whuditellya?  The chicks in the amen corner heard him.
 
John:  Your rooster's chasing his tail to a jihad shift.
 
Curtis:  Or clucking to his New Age choir.
 
Apparition:  Lemme hear ya syncopatin'...
 
Sharmayne:  Same rhythm of my grandmother's church, but those folks spoke in good ol' timey tongue. 
 
Tom:  Didn't take this political fork for trash talkin' His house.  That ol' rooster has all the appearance of rhythm, but he has stuck himself in one deep groove.
 
Apparition:  Gummint lies!
 
Raina and Mary:  Gummint lies??
 
Sharmayne:  But we, the people, are the government--Constitutionally bound.
 
Curtis:  Yeah. So who you callin' a liar? You better look homeward. The ground's about to meet ya square up.
 
Tom:  That's a shape shifter, that is.  Look at him.  Looks more like a shark now.
 
Curtis: Shake-down shark.  Swimming in mighty shallow waters.
 
Sharmayne:  Are we in church now?
 
Tom:  She's gettin' delirious with the lack of food...
 
Sharmayne:  It doesn't sound like my Father's house.
 
Curtis:  Look!  A second Spirit. Straight up!
 
Apparition:  No! No! No!
 
Tom:  Blaspheming the Holy Ghost!   Get thee gone, apparition!
 
(Shape-shifting apparition disappears.  The rooster now crows.)
 
Apparition:  (Wailing from a distance) Lemme hear you say, "End of the church age!"
 
Fish-trapped Pilgrims:  (in unison)  Gasp!!!
 
Tom:  (to the second Spirit)  ...we know not whither thou goest; and how can we know the way?
 
Curtis:  (To the apparition) Deceiver!  Usurping the Spirit!
 
Tom:  Who are you talking to?  Watch your words!
 
Curtis:  YOU watch YOURS!
 
Holy Ghost:  I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.
 
Sharmayne:  By the Spirit of love, Father? 
 
Holy Ghost:  He that believeth on me, the works that I do shall he do also;
 
Tom:  Don't bring your one-trick politics into these many mansions, usurper! Don't go lookin' for good religion by way of bad politics.
 
Curtis:  Who you talkin' to? (Addressing the apparition) We're not your suckers on the line, house-of-card shark!
 
Holy Ghost:  If ye love me, keep my commandments.
 
Tom:  Not the dictates of pride. Get behind me!
 
Sharmayne:  We had a moment...did we miss it, Father?
 
Holy Ghost:  ...I will pray the Father, and he shall give you another Comforter, that he may abide with you for ever;
 
Sharmayne:  (kneeling, head bowed on the frozen ice) My true Lord from whom cometh self-governing--that I should be right with You and this world? My Comforter, my conscience...even in this fog of deception...that I should know You...to know the Way...
 
(Sharmayne collapses)
 
Fish-trapped Pilgrims:  Sharmayne!  Sharmayne!
 
Holy Ghost: ... even the Spirit of truth; whom the world cannot receive, because it seeth him not, neither knoweth him: but ye know him; for he dwelleth with you, and shall be in you.
 
Fish-trapped Pilgrims:  Sharmayne!  Don't give up the Ghost!
 
 
 
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THE CONGENITAL BLESSING, THE MIDNIGHT BELL

Posted by LadyLiberty on Tuesday, April 22, 2008 8:46:44 PM
Episode 38:  The Congenital Blessing, the Midnight Bell
 
(Constructing drag noose snares)
 
John: (muttering to himself) "Make a pond with a tree by it. A frog jumps out of the pond, hops 'round the tree, then dives back into the pond."
 
Timeus:  Name your knot.
 
John:  Bowline.
 
Timeus:  Where'd you learn the mnemonic for it?
 
John:  Derb's website when he was making his family tree house.  That's the one he learned as a kid.  You should check out his tree house.  Way cool.
 
Timeus:  His source? 
 
John:  The Ashley Book of Knots.  Bowline knot #1010. I'll use wire instead of hemp.
 
Curtis:  What are you smokin' over there?
 
John:  Just stick to your wood chopping, Chad lad.
 
Curtis:  Tutor Timeus!  John isn't sharing, the American Way.  I want to learn the frog chant and how to make knots too.
 
John:  Ok, let's start by untying the knots on your head.  (Takes the wire and starts to wrap it around Curtis' head.)
 
"Frog dives out of the pond, hops other way 'round the tree, jumps back into the pond,...
 
Curtis:  Pilgrim abuse, Tutor Timeus!
 
John: ...pond drained of scum and mush, tree felled". One less knot and a mushless skull.  There may be hope for you yet.
 
Curtis:  Tutor Timeus, if a tree falls in this forest, could I give this thug a hearing before the High and Mighty Tree Huggers Association and maybe get him put away for life?
 
Timeus:  Uh, in today's political climate change, probably yes.
 
Curtis:  Sweeeet! I'll say he did it.
 
Alexander:  Hey, dog, you shoulda remembered your Army Field Manual has the bowline knot for a drag noose snare.
 
Curtis:  Who you callin' dog?  My people were Tuskegee Airmen.  Great Granddad was a Red Tail Angel who kicked Nazi butt with his P51-C Mustang, dude.
 
Alexander:  Aw, don't ride on his parachute.
 
John:  Wait a minute. Yeah, come to think of it, I saw mention of you on the Commemorative Air Force site:  the Curtiss SB2C Helldiver.
 
Curtis:  Apropros, bro.
 
Alexander:  Uh, huh. Gonna join up with the Deuce Four any moment. We can only hope.
 
Curtis:  Thanks for the props, but I beg to differ on your hopeful point. I propose, contrariwise, in keeping with the Great Predestinator, to move beyond hope, which I'm sorry to report is not that far removed from fate.  It's fate with a smiley face, hope is. And we know what the smiley face brought us all last century.
 
No, my proposition is something tried and true, yet revolutionary--where hopeful reactionaries fear to tread: free will from God's gift, mine own true mind. Free will and self-reliance. In that portion of the clause, I agree whole-heartedly with brave Michael Yon and our fighting men. That is Man's burdensome mediation between Predestination and mindless Fate. One in keeping with the Way.
 
God throws out, not his dice, but the way things behave according to their natures--including Man's mind which reflects on that truth, or lies and deceives.
 
Raina:  I need some wood here. Water purification project. Hellllloooooo.
 
Curtis:  I'm chopping as fast as I can, woman. No. Hold on.  He's chopping.  Here you go, slugger. (hands the axe to John)
 
John:  Did I axe you for that?  Thanks, but no.  I've gotta snare me some hare.
 
Curtis:  Yeah, good point, on the top of your head.  And you could use some, btw.
 
Raina:  (joining in)  So, Tutor Timeus:  Who should history reward more?  Curtis' Tuskegee Airmen who helped integrate the armed forces and brought down 251 enemy aircraft, or my ancestor, Pappy Boyington and his Black Sheep Squadron?
 
Timeus:  Red Tail or Black Sheep?  Nice switcheroo, you two.  It's all good, pilgrims.  You start fraying those threads and the whole fabric will ravel.  Your ancestors sacrificed for the good of the whole.  They met the challenge and then some, so it would be easier for you to be judged by your character, not your color. 
 
They were not multicultists progressively dividing the race bait for the suckers. They got experience through discipline at a high cost, so you wouldn't be afraid to go out and get yours the right way.  They knew the American dream was for them too, and they weren't afraid to live it.
 
From our Founders' revelation of liberty's congenital blessing to their descendents' realization by sweat equity.  It is to the Human race that God's eternal torch is passed. That's quite a legacy for you to keep.
 
Raina:  But a little competition to be the best won't hurt us.
 
Curtis:  No, just don't tear me down while you build yourself up.
 
Raina:  Do I look like a politician for our times?
 
Curtis:  Uh, well, lemme knock here.  (raps on her head)  Doesn't sound like a voting bloc to me, but it does sound a little airy in there.  Be careful.  If you don't become a helium-headed politico, you might just fall for one.
 
Raina:  T.T., I think Curtis needs both sensitivity and diversity training.
 
Curtis:  Here comes Uncle, let's ask him.
 
Tom:  Hey, brainless, there's no donkey's rears around here, so no Uncle Toms.  You better study on your unrevised history, boy.  The Uncle Toms partied Democrat, but parted Republican ways.
 
Say, you aren't dyslexic, are  you?  One of those dyslexic Democrats always reversing the present and revising the past? 
 
Curtis:  Who you callin' slysdexic?
 
Tom:  Case in point.  (raps on his head)
 
Curtis:  I know it's gorgeous, but would you people please leave my head alone?
 
Tom:  Yes.  Our congenital blessing was to leave such narrow-minds in the dust bin of history, choosing liberty for all, not slavery for the other.
 
Curtis:  Ok, then. Just giving you a head fake. Love me; don't leave me. Like you, I am the other.  So does she look like a politician for our times? A sheeple, not a Black Sheep?
 
Tom:  Raina?  Ah.  Wrong question.  The eye preceded the ear and mind, so I learned better than to judge by appearances.  But I know her by her acts.
 
Curtis:  (Taking up his own, threateningly) You don't say?
 
Tom:  That's not yours to grind, Romeo. Hers derive from that same instruction manual you have inconveniently misplaced...however briefly.  Her acts run in keeping with the warrior tradition, but they do not stop at the tribal edge, where clan and the Klan so quickly fossilize.
 
She leaps across time's chasm, that eternal torch in hand--all covetous grandstanders to the feeble reach with an envious ewe and cry...
 
Pilgrims all:  Eeeeyewww!!!
 
Curtis:  The pathetic punster!
 
Tom:  ...plants both feet on holy ground and takes up with the proverbial stranger where weaker Man leaves off.
 
So no.  She is not a politician for our times.  But she may be a statesman for all time.
 
Timeus:  Will brief time tell its timeless tale?  (calling to Benjamin)  Dune Schoolie!!! Are the squirrel poles ready?
 
Benjamin:  (calling back) Yeah. We're just waitin' on the squirrels.
 
(Later 'round the fire in the teepee)
 
Younger Pilgrims:  (singing)  Italians hate Yugoslavs, South Africans hate the Dutch, and I don't like anybody very much!
 
Lily:  Uh huh.  Well, that wasn't quite the music I had in mind.  Let's try poetry.  On the square, my Will in hand:
 
When icicles hang by the wall,
And Dick the shepherd blows his nail,
 
Pilgrims all:  Ouch!!!
 
Lily:  And Tom bears logs into the hall,
And milk comes frozen home in pail,
 
Timeus:  When blood is nipped and ways be foul,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
 
Pilgrims all:  Tu-who; tu-whit, tu-who:  a  merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
 
John:  Did you say John?
 
Pilgrims all:  No, we did not!
 
Lily:  Well done.  Now, when we've passed the lonely soul of autumn and the staring owl Tu-who...
 
John:  Our Tu?  Or Tu Fu?
 
Lily:  (punching keys then talking into her cell) Tu?  Is it you?
 
Tu:  (speaking into his cellphone)   Yes. Hello.  And my best back at you.
 
Lily:  (sneezes) Atchooo! (holding out her cellphone for all to hear) 'Scuse me.  To you!!
 
Pilgrims all:  You too!
 
Tu:  (from his cell) Cold on your mountain, friends?
 
Lily:  (into the cell) What with winter snapping his hard bite about spring's bitterness, tired old wind bag in his sunny getup...
 
Pilgrims:  It's cold!!! Hypo-critical!
 
Tu:  (from his cell)  Here.  I send you Zhang Ji's warming torch from fisher of men.  Midnight bell for me and thee!
 
 
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QUO WARRANTO?

Posted by LadyLiberty on Thursday, April 03, 2008 11:53:22 PM
Episode 37:  Quo Warranto?
 
Timeus:  Ok. We've got two hours.  Afterwards we meet back at the teepees. We'll grab canteens of soup and water, then, and go out on the pond for some ice fishing.
 
John, what game are you going to set your snare for?
 
John:  Most plentiful are the hares.  Fewer predators these days.
 
Timeus:  How you gonna find 'em?
 
John:  Walk upwind--to avoid their smelling my scent--look for droppings on game trails.  Lying on your stomach can help to view where the brush has been flattened by their passing.
 
Curtis:  Just don't walk in circles and end up setting a snare for yourself on your own flattened path.
 
John:  Dem Cross meets Operation Chaos? 
 
Curtis:  Double time.  Reap what you sow, bro.
 
John: Well, then it pays to know the lay of the land, eh. I think I can sort self from white rabbit.
 
Alexander:  Or white devil?
 
John:  White, black, brown, red, or yellow devil...have I covered all the tightly wired identities?
 
Alexander:  All meshed in, just so. But you wouldn't want to disobey the categorical imperative:  "judge by appearances", would you?
 
John:  In point of fact, I would.
 
Alexander:  What prompts you, pilgrim?
 
John:  Uh...being willing to also sort out the difference between Man's eyes and God's light.
 
Curtis:  Here, bro.  (hands matches to Alexander) I'm gonna give you Rush's little light that shines.  Don't burn yourself.
 
John:  A match made in Heaven?
 
Alexander:  That's cold, dude.
 
Curtis:  No, that's hot soul.
 
Alexander:  So what do Man's eyes miss that God's light shines on?
 
John:  The underlying moral order and transcendent truth.
 
Curtis:  Sowell  man sorts it out by reason and revelation:  a fair fight is played by rules like the old Marquis of Queensbury's. It is not engineered to ensure equal outcomes from unequal means.
 
The fairness is in adapting to objective measures for meeting a certain challenge.
 
John:  The transcendent truth is God's moral order that no man created or can destroy despite all Man's convenient lying that passes for His inconvenient truths.
 
Alexander:  Well then, how come the people so meshed into their identity politics are the same ones obsessed with equal outcomes for all?
 
Timeus:  By whose rules are they playing?  State God's moral order as a principle revealed to our founders.
 
Curtis: Man is equal in the eyes of God--spiritually equal--as free as the next to pursue, by virtue of his individual mind and the merit of his efforts and abilities, the natural and happy life to which he was born.  Let the tyrant deny his own freedom, not others'.
 
Timeus:  Does equal freedom bring equal ends?
 
Curtis:  No, the spiritual is not the material anymore than the Queensbury's rules are rule breakers.
 
Timeus:  What is Man to do?
 
Curtis:  Play fair , or get rid of God and change the game.
 
Timeus:  If you're not playing by a transcendent moral order, will your new rules work?
 
Alexander:  Only if the rules of the new game allow themselves to be broken.  And if time doesn't catch on by catching up to the effects.
 
Timeus:  Transcending God's transcendence by obliterating Man's boundaries:  the borders of his mind; the borders of his country...The logic follows.
 
But let's hope, instead, the U.S. has a loyal dog in God's true game. Square away for the snareup.
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THE CONFUSION OF A MULTITUDE

Posted by LadyLiberty on Thursday, March 20, 2008 4:48:40 PM
Episode 36:  The Confusion of a Multitude
 
...however small the republic may be the representatives must be raised to a certain number in order to guard against the cabals of a few; and that however large it may be they must be limited to a certain number in order to guard against the confusion of a multitude.
--James Madison, Federalist #10
 
Timeus:  How are you going to find your way out of the wilderness if you don't know where you are now?
 
Curtis:   Well, I know that I'm not in any little red, white and blue chicken coop or hen house, scratching in the bread line, for somebody to hand me my free lunch, or plump me up as lunch for the race baiters at the gate. You can supra-prime bank on that.
 
Ben:  Not going to read your lines from the subtext for the poor, little hen-pecked? 
 
Curtis:  No, if I ever get that sick, call Dr. Honeycutt to the House! Matter of fact, call her in now. I'll do some preventive medicine.
 
Alexander:  Now listen here.  I thought I told you to stay in your chicken coop place, uppity cocky.  I've got the keys of the foxy cabal.  You're 'sposed to have the confusion of the multitude.
 
Curtis:  How cleverly "complex" of you.  I guess I'm pluribusted! 
 
Alexander:  Yes, you are.  Because I can and will. So don't make me tax your free speech any further. Your tightly wired identity will help keep you in your many squares, so don't trip yourself up again, 'hear?
 
Curtis:  Oh, I hear ya.  Like a chain-clanking echo.
 
Alexander:  I'm glad you're listenin'.  Now you didn't really want to cross this here plantation line where everything's so carefully meshed out for you, did you?  (patting him on the back) One Nanny master's enough, lil' chick.  You watch your step now. You were just one puffed up huff from getting your clucking beak snapped.
 
Curtis:  For real?  Well now, Nanny bonehead, I'd be leary of some blowback on that threat of yours...oooh...what was that?
 
Alexander:  Pay no attention to that trumpet call beyond the veil.  It's just William getting in his licks to throw you off your game.  We don't need no Dem-Cross here. If the machete clan don't cut it, the bombing ummeh will.  Very double edgy.
 
Timeus:  (yelling)  William!  Put it down.  It's not Easter yet.
 
Curtis:  (yelling to William)  Give your props to the preps, slacker!
 
William:  (hollering back)  Just giving you a back up, Tutor Timeus.
 
Timeus:  (to Alexander and Curtis)  I'm going to have to cut through your psychodrama here and get you to the first base of your physical bearings. We'll hope your mental and spiritual follow.  State your position.
 
Curtis:  Yes, sir.   I got my yard stick here.  (pointing to his head and heart)  I adjust them to that still, small voice in harmony with that wake-up call, but drowning out this travelling satana at 3:00. 
 
Alexander:  Well, I declare.
 
Curtis:  Yeah, well, I declared mine too, so you can stick that co-dependence where the moon does shine over the desert. Yonder, pup.  Meanwhile, campers...
 
Alexander:  But that is SOOO mean, Captain America...please...help me...I'm melting; I'm melting!...
 
Curtis:  Yeah, good job, sucker. Take a slow, dissipating hike back to your underworld.  Anyway, y'all, (grabbing a long, straight stick) inner light to outer, sun to shadow, and on this level playing field (clears a space on the ground and drives the stick in), I stake my life on keeping the two in accord:  ground of my being with the Heavenly Host.
 
My being has a nature.  It is free by virtue of my God-given birthright and this mind that knows it like no other.  Nobody owns it.  Transcendent truth created it.  Nobody destroys it but me, and I'm not in any mood to do so.  I hereby refuse that dereliction of duty.
 
From God's hand to my mouth, I speak freely of what stands before me.  My thoughts and words align themselves to "what is" first.  I will not bend them like a magic boomerangst to what is not, or even what could be until I know them like a permanent crease across my heart. For what could be cannot derive from what is not.  Let facts speak to a candid world, now steeped in fantasy.
 
When flattened that way and equal outcomes sing their siren song, I stay on course, by straitened and divinely-deeded equal means to diverse, everlasting ends.
 
I mark the tip of this shadow of death; I mark him well.  Ten minutes could a thousand lifetimes be when I will mark again--eh Will!! (He hollers out, drawing a line from the first mark through and to a foot beyond the second mark.) 
 
I stand my ground, squared up:  left foot to the first mark, right foot on the end of the line.  Being in the northern, temperate zone, my hand before me and to God above, I'm facing north.  East to my right; west to my  left; south to my back. All born to rise again by the rod and staff of right reckoning.
 
Timeus:  Square away.
 
(In the teepee, preparing supper's soup and fry bread)
 
Mary:  I've only got a half a cup of oil from my secret stash.
 
Raina:  Well, that's half full.
 
Mary:  (laughing) Is that enough for fry bread?
 
Raina:  No.  Not even if I get Wayne, the Wampanoag medicine man to anoint it.
 
Lily:  Let's make biscuits with it now and we'll ask Tutor Timeus later where he put our baking ingredients.
 
Raina:  You're reminding me of when we went to Wes Jackson's Prairie Festival years ago, remember Sharmayne?  And he was telling the story about the farmer in Kansas whose new wheat crop got wiped out in one of those great plains tornadoes.  Remember how mortified his family felt as they toured the fields of devastation.  There was not a living plant to be found among the wasted acres.
 
Then finally the farmer laid hold of one stalwart, resilient shoot that shone to him as if it were the Holy Grail of Christendom.  And he said to his sons, "Can you imagine that?  What a strong and vital crop that's going to grow for us next season.  That's American ingenuity at work, boys.  Behold."
 
Sharmayne:  Like my grandmama used to say, "You can't make honey out of lemons. But you can make lemonade.  And that's the bittersweet truth of life, chile.  If you've been kind to your neighbors and  haven't coveted their well or ill-gotten gains, they might lend you a cup of sugar for the sweetening.  So love them as yourself."
 
True story.  That's what she used to say, God rest her soul.
 
Lily:  And so say all of us.
 
 
 
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A LAWLESS BANDITTI

Posted by LadyLiberty on Sunday, March 09, 2008 12:06:38 AM
Episode 35:  A Lawless Banditti
 
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