AGITPROP Is Alive And Well In Austin.

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I need to get out ahead on this one, because I am officially demanding an apology from every person who posts on Facebook about the evil, racist, Texas-sucks-because-they’re-white, people who put up the sticker below in Austin over the last few days. Most of the people who have to apologize to me (as a white guy who likes Texas, and Texans) haven’t even posted on this topic yet. But I know they will, and I know what they will say. They’re predictable. Push button, get outrage. That’s the whole point of Agitprop.

Suckers

Suckers

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I’ve predicted, and I’m sure it will be the case, that the sticker was produced and placed by some ultra-liberal/hipster/communist loon, or a black person who feels that the gentrification of the neighborhood is driving out minorities from an area they feel is “rightfully theirs.” Mind you, there is no real effort to color restrict this area, but it’s someone’s idea of raising social awareness and making sure that everyone thinks correctly.

Soon there will be serious discussions of this topic (but not at Starbucks) and the talking heads will all talk about the sad history of race relations in Texas, the horrendous dragging death of James Byrd (never mind that one of his killers is already dead from an execution and the other is on death row – without need of any hate crimes laws, just plain old murder) and the fact that George Bush was governor of the state.

The same talking heads will all be very quiet when this is exposed for what it is: theater.

Most of the widely publicized hate crimes incidents of the last 20 years have been fomented by agitators. People who wanted to point out the unfairness in society against blacks, jews, gays, and polar bears. They set it up, vandalized their own cars/homes/faces and then waited for the outrage. A great lesson was learned so it was worth it. Nah, I don’t think it was. When they were exposed their sad mental health was usually blamed. A few were fined, lost their jobs, or did a short bit of jail time. But most were just told not to do it again.

I think hate crime laws are odious. Here’s an idea: if they beat someone, try them for battery. If they kill someone, try them for murder. If they wreck a car with paint or hammers, vandalism. If they say something horrible – well, ostracize them. That first amendment is really a pesky thing, it allows people to tell me that the sky pilot I worship is no different than the flying spaghetti monster. I’m okay with that concept. Don’t expect me to talk to you, or do business with you. But you’re free to be your own special kind of idiot.

I think – make that I know – that Austin will be the same kind of special idiot. Likely a white person who is so in sympathy and down with the cause that he was making a brilliant point and we’re all just too stupid to see it. Or, a black guy who sees the neighborhood going upscale and losing it’s “authentic” nature.

Me? I like hipsters when they bring new food, bars, and music to a run down neighborhood. They should either grow a real beard or shave, but in general they’re no more annoying than hippies. Hippies just rarely did anything good for the local economy.

I also like black people. Come to think of it, my only real problem is with stupid or evil people. Crap, I’ve just broken another stereotype! With my background, religion, and education, I’m supposed to hate almost everyone who isn’t me. (Note: there is this guy, Jesus, whom I follow. Maybe you’ve heard of Him. He told me to love all as if they were myself. I’m working on that. Sorry about the stupid and evil people, Jesus: I’m a work in progress.)

Just saying.

So, all of you who shriek and moan about the racists in Texas over the next few days, please feel free to apologize to me on your Facebook page when you’re outed. I’d ask that you link to me at this link. I can use the exposure as a sage and a prophet.

If I am wrong, I will print an apology here in all capitals the day following Jane Fonda’s sincere apology for the increased torture of American prisoners of war in Hanoi. But only if John (Christmas in Cambodia) Kerry countersigns it with Hillary’s email signature.

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I have a favor to ask of my readers: would you kindly share this blog with your friends, family, and colleagues? We hit a million views in 2014, and while the readership continues a nice growth trend, it could be a lot better. Just hit the Facebook like button, share it on your timeline, tweet the blog with a link, and tell that person at the next desk that there’s this lunatic who writes about all sorts of stuff that they might like.

I appreciate your help. When we hit 2,000,000 readers I will give away something cool to a drawing from the subscribers (that’s the box on the right toward the top) who have helped promote this mess. No used sheets, probably not honey, more likely gift cards. Be a part of it. I’ll update from time to time where we’re at in the count. Thanks.

Chris Rosati Has A Great Idea: The Butterfly Effect In Your Life. #commotiongrant – updated 10:55 CDST

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I’ve talked about random acts of kindness and paying it forward here before. Seems that it’s about to go mainstream with the efforts of Chris Rosati. Let’s jump on this bandwagon!

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There are a lot of variations on this idea, none of them are originally mine. Until now. I’m calling it #commotiongrant

UPDATED: Seems we needed to clarify what my twisted mind had hatched. Here’s how it works. You are given $20 bucks and are asked to do something good with it. You feed the homeless, buy a care package for a soldier, use the money to buy gasoline and mow every senior citizen’s lawn in the neighborhood, etc. You get the idea. You then give two other people $20 each and tell them to use it to do something good. So, you hand them $20 and they spend it on a good work. They then take $40 of their own, give $20 to two different people and ask them to do a good work and then bless two other people. It cascades. #commotiongrant can be considered as a reverse pyramid scheme. It starts out narrow and goes very wide very quickly.

The person that told me about this gave me $20 and told me to do something nice with it. I did. A good friend had suffered a loss in their family and they were hurting. Out came the $20 with my suggestion that they take their husband out to breakfast and remember all the great times with the dog that had passed away that evening.

Would I have done that if I hadn’t been handed the $20 earlier that day? Unlikely. But it felt so good to do it. I’m planning on doing it again. You see, that’s what the butterfly effect can do: I get $20 and then I give $20 to two people as well as doing a good deed. Those two people do it as well. That $20 doubles. The next time out, it quadruples. And so on. (Unlike Congress and their outlook, it adds up to real money around the third level.)

Better than even that, they tell people about it and those folks (some anyway) do the same. Next thing you know all sorts of people are handing out $20 bucks to two people and asking them to pay it forward.

The change this can effect will be small to you. But to the recipients it will be huge. Not just the monetary impact, but the fact that you will be growing that spirit of giving within others. Opening their minds to the simple act of helping others is pretty huge.

Today, before 2 pm, give two people $20. I’ve got one more person to give mine to and I’m going to have it taken care of before 8 pm Wednesday.

I’d love it if you’d report back to me via the comments on what “good deed” you did for another. Keep paying it forward and if you tweet or use Facebook, use the hashtag #commotiongrant and tell everyone about it via social media.

Let’s rock the world with kindness.

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I have a favor to ask of my readers: would you kindly share this blog with your friends, family, and colleagues? We hit a million views in 2014, and while the readership continues a nice growth trend, it could be a lot better. Just hit the Facebook like button, share it on your timeline, tweet the blog with a link, and tell that person at the next desk that there’s this lunatic who writes about all sorts of stuff that they might like.

I appreciate your help. When we hit 2,000,000 readers I will give away something cool to a drawing from the subscribers (that’s the box on the right toward the top) who have helped promote this mess. No used sheets, probably not honey, more likely gift cards. Be a part of it. I’ll update from time to time where we’re at in the count. Thanks.

In My Universe, There’s Two Kinds Of Families.

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That’s a gross oversimplification. There are a whole lot between the polar opposites I’m about to address. But we’re not grading on a curve here, just talking about a bit of a revelation I had this weekend on Facebook.

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I was enjoying the spectacle of my friends posting their semi-regular kid updates this weekend. We don’t have any children without fur, and that’s for the best. (Truly, God is wise and avoided cursing some child with me as a father. I might be disturbed/disturbing, but imagine if I got to mold someone from birth in my image. Whoa!) I live through other’s college tuition bills, since Stormy isn’t prone to doing much beyond simple addition. (I’m pretty sure there’s an algorithm for how many times she must summon me to the back door depending on my keystrokes on the computer, but that’s for another blog.)

I realized that none of my friends were posting pictures of their son or daughter heading off to Cabo with twenty of their best friends for a weekend of sun and debauchery. Nor, for that matter, were my friends headed to the local bar to go nuts for Saint Patrick’s Day. (Except for my CT friends. They’ll drink to anything! Cheers, shipmates.)

Where were all these people during spring break? Missions. God, help me, but I’m the guy who looks forward to mission trips. Furthermore, I enjoy it when my friends are raising their children up to do the same. Double the enjoyment when they go on their missions at the same time.

This is in direct opposition to those folks who send their kids on debauches, or go for it themselves. I used to live that life in a minor way. Passed out in the chair in the corner, empty bottles on every flat surface, I could party with the best. Never did the spring break thing, but there was more than one boozy road trip in my life. It is who I was at that point in my life.

Looking at it now, I really wish I’d been saved as a kid. My parents tried to drill some God into my thick skull, but I was too smart to fall for that gibberish. Yeah. Right. The wasted years when I could have been growing as a man and a soul. I wonder what my life would have been like if I’d been a kid who wanted to go on a mission trip somewhere.

Is there a moral or a message here? Yes, there is: if you are an influencer of children, what influence are you having? Are you offering them the chance to grow in God? Or, like I was, are you telling them about the awesome bars in Naples and Toulon?

That’s a pretty heavy question. I am planning a trip very soon, and one of the things I’m looking forward to is the first time people going with us, and what I can bring to the experience to help them. I’m not talking about which shoes to pack, but what parts of their hearts they want to leave behind here, that they might replace them with something from our destination.

That’s what mission trips do for me: a heart healing through locational surgery. I leave something behind and bring something home.

You’ll hear more about that in the next few months. (I’m not even counting Dengue Fever. Brought that one back with me the last time…)

In conclusion (a phrase you hear in Baptist churches no fewer than four times each sermon) I applaud the parents, and children, who head for the mission on spring break. I like being your friend. I’m honored to know you. I’m blessed to have been able to hang out with you in some of the strangest places and laugh like loons over a grimy set of clothing and a bottle of water.

I love my new life in Jesus.

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I have a favor to ask of my readers: would you kindly share this blog with your friends, family, and colleagues? We hit a million views in 2014, and while the readership continues a nice growth trend, it could be a lot better. Just hit the Facebook like button, share it on your timeline, tweet the blog with a link, and tell that person at the next desk that there’s this lunatic who writes about all sorts of stuff that they might like.

I appreciate your help. When we hit 2,000,000 readers I will give away something cool to a drawing from the subscribers (that’s the box on the right toward the top) who have helped promote this mess. No used sheets, probably not honey, more likely gift cards. Be a part of it. I’ll update from time to time where we’re at in the count. Thanks.

On Deadline: You Get This Nonsense

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I’ll be back next week. This week is dedicated to finishing a new novel so that I can enter it in a contest. You’ll be glad for the break, trust me.

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So, first, the random picture.

guysnamedjoeresized
I picked that one because it’s where the cursor landed when the mouse wheel spun in the gallery. But it’s a good pic, three generations of assorted spooks, sailors, and Marines. (How come they get honked if you don’t capitalize but the rest of us are cool with it?)

Now, a rant: McDonalds, your new bags are too thin. They rip every time. Especially with your boxed products. I know it’s saving you money, but I’ll flip in the extra 5 cents for a bag that makes it to the car.

Now, a dog picture.

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Finally, thank you all for coming by. I promise real content next week.

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I have a favor to ask of my readers: would you kindly share this blog with your friends, family, and colleagues? We hit a million views in 2014, and while the readership continues a nice growth trend, it could be a lot better. Just hit the Facebook like button, share it on your timeline, tweet the blog with a link, and tell that person at the next desk that there’s this lunatic who writes about all sorts of stuff that they might like.

I appreciate your help. When we hit 2,000,000 readers I will give away something cool to a drawing from the subscribers (that’s the box on the right toward the top) who have helped promote this mess. No used sheets, probably not honey, more likely gift cards. Be a part of it. I’ll update from time to time where we’re at in the count. Thanks.

Stormy Versus Reality, Round 4,573,392

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One of us is nuts. Most people will vote for me being crazier than the sheepdog, but I beg to differ.

One, or more, of us is nuts.

One, or more, of us is nuts.

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Let’s start with that picture and talk about my love affair with the dog in the lower left corner. I took that picture during the summer of 2014. We were both sitting on the back step enjoying the day when she cuddled up. Yes, my dog, the standoff queen. The camera came out and the moment was captured.

Her behavior, on occasion, is either bizarre or sweet. Let’s talk about Mrs. Bunny. Stormy and Mrs. Bunny have a curious relationship. Mrs. Bunny is stupid and often turns the wrong way when being chased. This means that Stormy almost catches her, and it’s only by God’s grace that the rabbit is still around to torment her at this point. Does that stop Stormy? No. However, I seriously question her genetic code when she looks right past the rabbit and prioritizes barking at the bird on the phone line. Maybe she’s cutting the little butterball a break. Or, she is so disconnected with how to feed herself that birds are more attractive as prey.

Speaking of food, I regularly try to poison her with dog biscuits. My wife never is suspect in this plot to kill the dog, just ask the dog. But when I offer her a “cookie” she often sits there closed mouthed and will not make eye contact. On other occasions, with the same body language and tone of voice, she scarfs it gladly.

There is a third instance of cookie madness: the “you’re a cheap jerk” look. Stormy and I both could afford to lose weight. I break her overly large treats into smaller tidbits. I get the look on a regular basis. Mind you, I break down and toss her a potato chip, a gummy bear, or other treat on occasion just to break the monotony. I even bring home doggy heroin (Frosty Paws) for her from the store. But when she hears that cookie snap in half you’d think I’d just sentenced her to death by slow starvation.

I don’t wonder about her as much as I used to when she first arrived. It’s slowly dawned on me that she’s eccentric and finally comfortable in revealing those quirks to my wife and me. That’s love and trust winning out.

Right after Christmas she was needy. I hadn’t been around much and she was short on her morning snuggle sessions. When I get up I invite her on the couch while I watch the news. One morning I was headed out after just fifteen minutes. She looked panic stricken: “How can you leave so soon?” It was tough to put her in her room (my room when I’m in there, her room when it keeps her from barking at passing aircraft) as I left for work.

We’re both a little nuts. I felt the same way.

But I do love that picture. What a great looking dog. What an improvement in my life to have her in it.