Memorial day, of the marital kind

It's an extraordinary thing to commit one's self to another for life, vowing before God and man to invest heart and soul into the mystical union that takes place between husband and wife.  Twenty-five years ago today, my bride and I made that commitment.

When we made those vows, marriage seemed like granite.  We were Christians after all.  The "D-word" would not be spoken in our home (it still is not).  With Christ as head, ours would be an invincible relationship.

As we have approached this wondrous milestone, our hearts have grieved as many have just stopped and gotten out of the car.  Many have, in tragedy, been taken from the car.  That relationship we had assumed was as steady as bedrock has begun to appear delicate and fragile.

On this day, I consider myself a richly blessed man.  Am I the most richly blessed?  One cannot make such a comparison.  I am only me.  I know only me, and what I know is the wonder of spending twenty-five years with a woman who loves me.  For those of you who know me, too, you understand what a wonder that is! 

I shared a quote on Facebook a few weeks back, a quote by C.S. Lewis in which he highlighted the importance of right priority.  He said,

When I have learnt to love God better than my earthly dearest, I shall love my earthly dearest better than I do now. In so far as I learn to love my earthly dearest at the expense of God and instead of God, I shall be moving towards the state in which I shall not love my earthly dearest at all. When first things are... put first, second things are not suppressed but increased.

Second things are not supressed but increased.  I have seen love played out in my life by a woman who loves her man because she loves her Lord.  She would tell you that she loves her man, too, but as her man looks in the mirror and sees himself for what he believes himself to be, he knows that it takes a supernatural commitment to Someone else for such a woman to love him so completely.  Because she loves her Lord first and foremost, the love she lavishes upon her husband is otherworldly.

Her heightened awareness of marriage's fragility has thrust my bride deeper into the arms of her Savior.  She knows as I leave for work in the morning that my afternoon return is not guaranteed.  She leans on her Christ.  And an interesting thing has happened.  Over the years, her greater dependency upon Jesus has not caused her to withdraw in our relationship.  On the contrary, she gives with such a wreckless love that it makes my head swim.

And I have seen another amazing thing.  As she has soaked me head to toe in her love, how can I do anything but love such a one in return?  Truly God has manifest his love to mankind most visibly through the flesh and blood of Jesus Christ, but Solomon was oh, so right when he declared,

He who finds a wife finds a good thing and obtains favor from the LORD.

I, through no merit of my own, have received God's favor in the woman he has given me with which to walk my days on this earth.  God has blessed me with a restored relationship with him through Christ.  Surely that would have been enough, but no, he has given me a woman I never could have imagined to be my friend, to be my lover, to be my confidant, to be my wife.

With no hint of guile, there is no other person on this planet with whom I would rather share five minutes, five hours, five years or five decades than my wife.  And if I could preserve her forever as the person I married or the person she is now, I would take right now a thousand times over only because I did not offer myself the choice of the person she will be in twenty-five years should God give us that long.

Should God take her from me tomorrow, I will weep with joy for every moment he allowed me to share with one so rich in beauty.  I will praise his name for the wonder of his image I have been blessed to see in one so dear to me.  I will hope and pray that I will learn from the example of a woman so fine how well to love those around me.  A good thing?  Indeed.  Favor?  Oh, my!

If you've been thinking of getting out of the car, don't.  You'll not find a finer vehicle nor a better partner with which to enjoy God's journey.  How do I know?  Because he has said so.  And because I have lived it.

Twenty-five years.  Thank you, Lord.  Would you see fit to give us another twenty-five, please, should you tarry?

Thank you, Tracy.

Your man until my last breath,

keith

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NOTE: Imagine the laughter in our home this morning as my bride and I awoke to find the other not only had blogged about this special day but they also 1) posted it at the same time (12:01 a.m.) and 2) used many of the same words and ideas to describe our union. You can find her post here if you haven't OD'ed on treacley sweetness yet.

Don't ask: Homosexuals in the military

The last non-religious segment of society, the US Military, has been told it must accept homosexual conduct as normal.  Congress voted yesterday to repeal "Don't ask/Don't tell," a policy that permitted homosexuals to serve, but they could not admit to their sexual practices or risk punitive action under the Uniformed Code of Military Justice.  Now a homosexual may serve openly.

Apart from the theological and moral problems with this can of worms (here), the government has thrust a logistical gordian knot wrapped in a Rubik's Cube plunged into a labyrinth upon our military.  I can't wait for the first hormonal, heterosexual 18-year old male (redundant?) to ask to bunk with the females in the unit.  Why not?  If a gay man can bunk with a barracks full of burly men, why not a straight man bunk with a barracks full of nubile lassies? 

Seems only fair.

See bikes

I got off work a bit early today.  It pleased me, not because I didn't have to work but because I got to help a friend move his piano.  So I hopped on my Suzuki Boulevard and headed north.

As a motorcycle rider, I know the other guy doesn't see me.  Whereas jet fighters need to be on the lookout, ever-defensive-minded, for the guy they don't see, for the bike rider, it's often the guy you do see that's going to nail you.  Here in my small town of 100,000, we've had two bike riders killed in the last month because someone pulled right out in front of them.  It didn't help that the idiots riding the bikes didn't have helmets on their coconuts.  So I drive defensively, always leaving myself an out.

Sometimes, though, there is no out.

I turned onto a narrow country lane and nudged my 800 up to the legal sixty.  Wide-open fields lined the way with the occasional house and road intersecting here and there.  The light was good so I felt confident that should anyone appear, they would certainly see me.  Little did I know I would be ignored.

I saw him along the side of the road.  When I see someone that might pull out, I have begun to flash my headlamp or rock my bike to help the other person see me.  I felt confident that I was plainly seen.  As I approached no-man's land, the point at which nothing could be done but to brace, he bolted...

Thankfully, it was a bunny rabbit.  "Was"--the operative word.

Car or bike, if it's a small critter, don't flinch.  The tree you hit swerving to miss the varmint (hopefully a cat) will not yield.  The critter?  They generally yield just fine.  Ride right through it.

The rabbit timed his launch with laser-surgery precision.  I'll not give you the -- um -- colorful details, but the oddly comical physics of the brief encounter left the head of the BB-brained bunny cradled between my legs and the gas tank.  Despite steeling myself for whatever the lurid outcome might be, looking down and seeing those bunny ears flitting in the wind gave me the heebs.  I reached down and tossed the disembodied cranium off my bike.

Monty Python's monster notwithstanding, rodents, even cute rodents, don't match up with motorcycles.  Cars and trucks, on the other hand, will win just about every battle.  If you haven't noticed, we're on the cusp of summer and the bikes are out there, mine included.

Keep your eyes peeled for us.  Motorcycle riders.  Not rabbits.  Please.

Up from the grave?

I have a friend who believes we did not set foot on the moon.  Ever.  Before he challenged me to reevaluate, I'd never given it any thought.  I trusted the photos.  I trusted the testimonies.  Surely someone would have blown the ruse had there been one.  I thought the suspicion a bit daffy and continued to trust. 

While the veracity of the moon landing has never had any bearing on my comings and goings, it had a huge impact on the other dudes that landed on the lifeless rock.  Either they became partners to the lie or they actually went there.  Mythbusters took on the moon landing a few years back.  Bottom line, Neil and all his rocket-riding bros. danced along the lunar landscape.

Another point of history begs examination.  A few weeks ago, Christendom celebrated an event that would stir the soul if it were mere fiction.  The Creator of a realm so loved that realm that after his minions so botched everything at every turn, he had to step in to right the mess.  He sent his equal.  He sent his Son.  The rabble hoped the Son would clean up the corruption and overthrow the oppressors.  Instead, the Son spoke of getting cleaned up from the inside out, and he pointed to his execution as the means by which that cleansing would come.  His followers didn't follow what he was saying.

The oppressors had nothing for this upstart and seized him.  The folks who fell in behind him fell away when things seemed to be returning to normal.  When they butchered the Son beyond recognition, the movement died an equally hopeless death. 

Or did it?  Three days later, the one disfigured in so horrifying a fashion, rose from the dead.  His pure blood had been shed that the soured sin of man's rebellion might be atoned for, that justice be meted out.

Then a most peculiar thing happened.  That band of followers that had fallen away and that was a few hours from returning to their homes and putting this embarrassing past behind them became the most extraordinary advocates -- for what? -- for the Son rising from the dead as proof that the broken relationship between the people and the Creator of the realm had been restored!  Love divine, all loves excelling.

But is it a fiction or did it play out in history?  This event, far more significant than the moon landing, deserves the scrutiny of every person for our existence hangs in its balance.

Kris Komarnitsky (among a myriad of others) dismisses the event.  Compelled, as all should be, to examine the event, he concluded,

When I study the evidence, the answer seems to be just what Bishop (John Shelby) Spong suggested -- a ground burial, probably in the Kidron or Hinnom valley, with nobody attending except for an indifferent burial crew who only cared to mark the site with chalk or a pile of loose rocks to warn of uncleanness. As Jesus' dejected followers made the journey back to their homes in Galilee, instead of a discovered empty tomb, the founding event of Christianity may have simply been "the discovery of a new and positive way in which to speak of Jesus' death and of Jesus after his death, that is, a new way of perceiving Jesus." This may have been the event of Easter.

Kris offers no overwhelming reasons for rejecting the histories included in the Bible.   Another writer, Jewish PhD Ed Gurowitz, also had to examine the resurrection himself.  Why?  He states,

Unfortunately as I study theology, and particularly the works of Christian theologians I respect, from C.S. Lewis to Walter Wink, say, there is an issue I cannot avoid so easily. This is the issue of what these theologians call "the Christ event," the resurrection and post-resurrection activities attributed to Jesus in all the Gospels and by Paul in his account of the event on the road to Damascus.

He goes on to wrestle, saying,

...both as a psychologist and as a student of history I cannot escape the thought that something must have happened. Like the parallels between the story of the Biblical flood and other myths, e.g., Gilgamesh, the similarities are too great to be coincidental. Oh sure, we can say that the Gospel writers colluded, but that's a bit too Oliver Stone for my taste. There is too much evidence in a comparative reading of the Gospels that the writers did not always give the same account of events and often blatantly disagreed - why collude in this one area?

And in full disclosure, Dr. Gurowitz does not come away a knee-bending Christian (here).  With the enormous amount of evidence that exists for Jesus rising from the dead--from the testimony of the apostles in Acts (2:29-32, 13:28-32 for starters) to the testimony of the gospel writers to the earliest creed given to Paul within a half-dozen years of the resurrection (1 Corinthians 15:3-8) to the glut of circumstantial evidence--the resurrection of Jesus Christ demands a look by 21st century man.  But that's not what drives my post today.

1960 years ago, Paul emphasized to the church of Corinth (just west of Athens along Greece's isthmus) the centrality of Jesus' resurrection.  The most rational Greeks struggled with the supernaturality of the resurrection, but Paul, a few verses after the creed cited above, listed some insurmountable problems if the resurrection is a mere fairy tale.  Consider

• If there is no resurrection, then Christ could not have been raised (15:13).  Stands to reason.
• If Christ hasn't been raised, Paul's preaching is foolish (v. 14).  During the early days of the church, the apostles appealed over and over again to the resurrection as the defining point of what they proclaimed.  God restored the broken relationship between God and man and to prove the point, he raised the sacrifice from the dead.  If Jesus is not alive, lots of men are blowing hot air on Sunday mornings across the globe.
• If Christ hasn't been raised, your "faith" is stupid (v. 14).  If Jesus is not alive today, the billions who have ordered their lives believing him to be alive have believed a lie.  They're betting their future on a ruse, a deceit, a falsehood.
• If Christ hasn't been raised, then Paul is misrepresenting God (v. 15).  So, too, the millions who have proclaimed the resurrection.  Actually, Muslims declare that Christians misrepresent God by asserting Christ raised from the dead (among other things).
• He emphasizes for a second time that if the dead are not raised and will not be raised, then Christ himself could not have been raised (v. 16).
• If Christ hasn't been raised, you are still at odds with God (v. 17).  Why?  Read Romans.  All of it.  Jesus bore in his flesh the penalty due to all humanity for its collective and individual rebellion against a holy and righteous God.  The resurrection puts the exclamation point on God's just satisfaction.  If Jesus is dead, there has been no satisfaction.  Man still stands in rebellion against God.
• Many hope to see their loved ones again someday.  A painful fact:  If they did not know Christ as Savior, you will not see them again.  Another painful fact:  If they did know Christ as Savior and you don't, you will not see them again.  Paul emphasized that if Christ hasn't been raised, those who have died in Christ are worm food (v. 18).
• Lastly, if Christ hasn't been raised from the dead, Christians are the stupidest people in the world and deserving of pity (v. 19). 

Harsh words.  Paul knew and understood the ramifications of what he proclaimed.  He proclaimed that which he had seen and heard.  He also understood how stupid "Christianity" would be if Jesus had become one with the dust of the earth.  That's why v. 20 is so profound.

BUT IN FACT Christ has been raised from the dead...

"In fact."  Just like the moon landing.  The evidence staggers the mind.  Paul's recognition of the implications if Jesus had not been raised is hard to get around, too.

Not believing the moon landing has no bearing upon your life today.  My friend functions just fine in society.  His tomorrow does not depend upon the Sea of Tranquility.  Not believing in the resurrection has serious implications.  Being wrong on that point might not seem to have any bearing upon your 5 p.m. Tuesday, unless of course you don't see 5 p.m. Tuesday. 

Leaves one to wonder why so many refuse to examine the evidence, or if they do, why they still choose to believe Christ is dead?

The deity dilemma

Kathleen Parker proves week in and week out that you don't have to know much to win a Pulitzer Prize.  You just have to write about it well.

The gist of her recent column: we're all praying to the same God because our brains show activity in the same place when we pray to our respective deities.  "If the whole world prays for a common good, will no good come of it?" she chastises.  "Oh ye of little faith."

As I see it, we have but three possibilities for the way things are in reality.

1. There is no God.
2. There is a God, but he didn't or doesn't communicate very well to his creatures.
3. There is a God, and he has spoken with clarity.

Atheists and the lion's share of east Asian religions plop into Category 1.  These folks make the best of it in this life by whatever pathway suits them best.  Here you'll find Bill Maher and Tiger Woods.

Ms. Parker and most of America believe in Category 2.  These folks acknowledge the God-shaped hole within their soul, but they think filling it is like deciding where to eat tonight.  "You in the mood for Texas Roadhouse or tofu.  It doesn't much matter.  It's up to you.  Whatever fills the space, as long as the space gets filled.  God didn't make it very plain, so as long as we're pretty good, we're sure to appease him (her? it?  them?)."  To quote Ms. Parker:

Different routes to the same destination...Understandably, these are not glad tidings to some. Centuries of blood have been shed for the sake of religious certitude. But transcending the notion that only some prayers are the right ones might get us closer to the enlightenment we purportedly seek...In the meantime, it would seem eminently rational to presume in our public affairs that God does not play political favorites with His creation.

Religious certitude.  These folks hold to Category 3, folks like Franklin Graham who Ms. Parker dismisses with her prize-winning prose.  They believe in the One who spoke the cosmos into existence and created man unique above all the created order because he imbued man with his likeness. 

But there are other Category 3 folks.  They shop at Caliphate and Bangs for the latest in C-4 fashions and at Bed, Bath and Beheading for well-honed cutlery.

Category 3A folk and Category 3B folk can't both be right.  Which takes us back to Category 2.  Perhaps Cat 2 folks don't like conflict.  "Can't we all just get along?  I mean, aren't we just talking about minor variations in the God of Abraham?"

Maybe Cat 2 folks are just ignorant.  I don't mean that as an insult.  Maybe they have never read the Koran or the Bible.  Or maybe they don't think the words mean what they say.  Both claim to be divinely inspired and without error.  Considering the insurpassable discontinuities between these two books, they cannot both be right.  If they are wrong on the divine inspiration point, then they are the concoction of a man (or men) who was (were) seriously deluded or had an axe to grind (or wield).  Why would such teachings be worth following?  And if they do contain error in history, what precludes it from containing error in theology?

While they cannot both be right, they can both be wrong.  Or perhaps, one of them is right. 

If God did want to reveal himself to his creatures, it is not unreasonable to think that he would do so.  If he did so, is it unreasonable to think he could do so with exactitude and simplicity?  While I often have trouble ordering my thoughts in an understandable fashion, I would think an omniscient God would have no problem communicating to us through an objective, written word.

Even if he has no Pulitzer.
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"The fool says in his heart there is no God..." ~ Psalm 14:1
"But you are near, O Lord, and all your commandments are true." ~Psalm 119:151

Mom II

MY MOTHER
By Jane Taylor

Who fed me from her gentle breast
And hushed me in her arms to rest,
And on my cheek sweet kisses prest?
My mother.

When sleep forsook my open eye,
Who was it sung sweet lullaby
And rocked me that I should not cry?
My mother.

Who sat and watched my infant head
When sleeping in my cradle bed,
And tears of sweet affection shed?
My mother.

When pain and sickness made me cry,
Who gazed upon my heavy eye
And wept, for fear that I should die?
My mother.

Who ran to help me when I fell
And would some pretty story tell,
Or kiss the part to make it well?
My mother.

Who taught my infant lips to pray,
To love God's holy word and day,
And walk in wisdom's pleasant way?
My mother.

And can I ever cease to be
Affectionate and kind to thee
Who wast so very kind to me,-
My mother.

Oh no, the thought I cannot bear;
And if God please my life to spare
I hope I shall reward thy care,
My mother.

When thou art feeble, old and gray,
My healthy arm shall be thy stay,
And I will soothe thy pains away,
My mother

And when I see thee hang thy head,
'Twill be my turn to watch thy bed,
And tears of sweet affection shed,-
My mother.

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For the last 23 years now I have had the opportunity to watch a mother's mastery firsthand. It's quite an amazing sight. Watching my bride "surpass them all" in her rearing of so wondrous a brood (seen above) has given me a depth of appreciation for what my own mom did and went through to make a home for my dad, my brother, and me.

I offer this Jane Taylor* gem (though some debate that it was by her sister, Ann) to honor them both.
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*In an interesting side-note, Jane Taylor had another famous poem to her credit.  She penned "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star," too.

Mom

I am a man richly blessed.  I have had the influence of three extraordinary mothers in my life.  My own mom, the mom of my sweet bride, and the superlative mom of my kids (who happens to be my sweet bride...funny how that works).  Many women are willing to be the kind of mom they think is best.  Few are willing to be the kind of mom God calls them to be.  In the honor of these three and of all the moms through which God has touched your lives, I offer up this masterpiece by William Ross Wallace.

THE HAND THAT ROCKS THE CRADLE
by William Ross Wallace

Blessings on the hand of women!
Angels guard its strength and grace,
In the palace, cottage, hovel,
Oh, no matter where the place;
Would that never storms assailed it,
Rainbows ever gently curled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.

Infancy's the tender fountain,
Power may with beauty flow,
Mother's first to guide the streamlets,
From them souls unresting grow--
Grow on for the good or evil,
Sunshine streamed or evil hurled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.

Woman, how divine your mission
Here upon our natal sod!
Keep, oh, keep the young heart open
Always to the breath of God!
All true trophies of the ages
Are from mother-love impearled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.

Blessings on the hand of women!
Fathers, sons, and daughters cry,
And the sacred song is mingled
With the worship in the sky--
Mingles where no tempest darkens,
Rainbows evermore are hurled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.

American twilight

On my way to work every day, I pass Kirby World Academy.  In days of old it was known as the mundane Kirby Junior High School, but since becoming part of the International Baccalaureate, it's now in the business of

...develop(ing) inquiring, knowledgeable and caring young people who help to create a better and more peaceful world through intercultural understanding and respect.

And that, in a modest nutshell, is why our nation has seen its better days.

You see, when KWA was KJHS, we did have intercultural understanding and respect.  The Brits were our allies.  They had lousy food, drab fashion, brutish sports fans, but great comedy.  They also had developed a greater respect for the rights of its citizens after a couple of thumps on the nose 200-ish years ago.  Great allies.  Do I think we should import all of Brittany into America.  NO!

The Soviets were not our allies.  They had lousy food, drab fashion, brutish female weight lifters, and no comedy.  They had zero respect for the individual citizen so we stood nose-to-nose with them for over forty years.  We were the only nation that had the cast-iron steelies and the muscle to stand up to them.  An evil foe.  A real foe.  Rocky Balboa and Ivan Drago.  Did anybody in their right mind think it would be great to import anything Soviet into America?  NO!  Okay, the Berkley professors thought it would be jiggy and a few whacks in Madison, Wisconsin, but most folks knew Stalin was no hero.

Why this "We are the World" silliness now? 

1. Why, when they remade Superman, would the director/producers have Perry White, the editor of the Daily Planet, say that the man in blue tights fought for "truth, justice, and all that stuff" purposefully omitting the American way?
2. Why are we willing to allow the rabble of Mexico to pour over our borders?  Why, if there are procedures in place to become a citizen of this nation, do we not uphold those procedures for those crossing along Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, and California, but we do so for Europeans, Africans, and Asians (and the occasional Pakistani with deep affections for Times Square)?  For the former, it's like walking into Wal-Mart.  For the latter, like walking into the White House.
3. Why is English not our national language?
4. Why do we hesitate in indicting Islam as causal behind the preponderance of barbarous attrocities committed against our people from within and without over the last thirty years?
5. Why do we cow to groups that demand we remove the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost from public life?
6. Why do our movie stars smoke cigars with men who loathe our nation, yet we still throw dollar after dollar at them to see their movies?
7. Why will our president bow to every heinous world leader that he comes across yet sticks his finger in the face of the one leader in Southwest Asia who fights for the rights of his people to live in freedom?
8. Why will we arrest a student for wearing a shirt with a flag on it during Cinco de Mayo?  (See #3 above)
9. Why does a reporter lament that the Times-Square terrorist had Islamic ties?  (See #4 above)

If I delay getting this thing posted any longer, I'll have thirty-seven reasons listed as the news continues to give me reason to shake my head.

So what's the deal?  Why the insanity?  Might I suggest the same reason that Kirby Junior High School is now Kirby World Academy. I believe that the sun has set upon our nation.

Yes, we still sing the National Anthem at ball games.  Yes, we still fly the flag.  No, I don't think our borders will change in the foreseeable future.  But for all intents and purposes, the United States is fading into the darkness.

Thomas Friedman's cogent work, "The World is Flat," put the spotlight on the globalization of economies.  Companies hold little national allegiance; they want to turn a profit.

With the liberalization of primary and secondary education, pledging allegiance has become passe'.  Few have any idea what "civics" is.  God has been expelled. 

America?  What is it?

As we move further down the calendar from when we used the Constitution as a governmental boundary, the three branches of government have oozed beyond their constitutional delineation to such a degree that they hold little resemblance to their nineteenth century predecessors.  The Supreme Court considers international law.  Our legislators tack micro laws onto other laws creating a product so enormous that the average citizen has no idea what the law itself states.  Our presidents, starting long before President Obama, have reached outside of their playground to grant themselves greater latitude with the military, the economy, and international policy.  No, this is NOT George Washington's government.  It's not even FDR's government, and he arguably did the most to raze the constitutional barricades.

I don't want to be France.  I don't want to be Mexico.  As much as I like the geography, I don't even want to be Canada.  I long for an America founded upon the rule of law given by the Creator and governed by a Constitution framed by that Law.  I long for a citizenry informed about our heritage and proud to be an American, not proud to be an American because it's the right thing to say but proud to be an American because what we are and what we stand for is so vastly different from anything there is out there in the world.

The propogation of Kirby World Academies highlights the indifference many in our nation already have toward what it meant to be an American.

Please tell me where I am wrong.  Please.  I would love to believe that the Red, White, and Blue has not become a dingy gray but every indicator seems to point toward a shop that long ago closed its doors.

An afternoon at CNN.com

What follows are actual CNN.com headlines from 4 p.m. May 3, 2010.  Yes, the truth is stranger than fiction.  Headline #1:

Betty White draws the line at nudity

That one alone sent me screaming down the hall.  You know the heebie-jeebies you get when you believe some despised critter has found its way down the back of your shirt and the wild, flailing dance you do to try and extract it?  Yeah, you get the idea.

Anyway, I, for one, would like to express my deepest appreciation to Ms. White for her courageous stand.  Yikes.

Next head-scratcher:

Serious legal hurdles for gay divorce

Um.  Does that one make the little propeller on your beanie spin contrary to the earth's rotation, too?

This one comes as no surprise:

A Supreme Court without Protestants?

You can almost here the CNN newsroom, "We can only hope!"  In a post-modern, post-Christian nation, does the majority even care anymore?  Most justices receive a nice coating of tar and feathers if they even hint that law's Source (God Almighty, in case you were wondering)  informs their jurisprudent opinion.

Next, please:

Night of Comedy in DC

Legislators must be staying late.  Next:

Pot farm found on state property

Dude, like that's news?  It lined the boulevards of DC when Marion Barry helmed the city.  And you thought your buddies liked hiking in Moab because of the wild rock formations.

Last one for this trip around the track:

Study: Obese kids get bullied more

Yes, and the average person has ten digits on their hands and ten on their feet.  Who got paid for such a study?  I could have told them that for a quarter of the price and been quite happy.  Here's the tragedy of that headline.  The parents are to blame for the obesity and the grief.  I heard some parents lament recently that they couldn't get their kids off the video games.  Excuse me?!  Who's the PARENT?  If you let your kids consume a box of Twinkies as an afternoon snack and then give them a half-gallon milkshake from Sonic to wash it down, and if their only toned muscles can be found in their texting thumbs and Guitar Hero fingers, they will end up a wee bit pudgy about the mid-section.  If your kid is a budding Michael Phelps, you'd better own a supermarket to keep his furnace fueled, but most of us could have served as models for the extras in Pixar's Wall*E.

I wish I were making this stuff up, but it was all collected on the front page of CNN.com.

QotD: Wisdom from the dawn of time

With homage to Brian Regan, I stumbled upon this insightful advice while nuking myself a cup of coffee this afternoon (because I was too lazy to make another pot). 

Step five (yes, it required five steps to prep a Folgers Coffee Single) revealed:

Dunk bag up and down for 15 seconds.  For a more robust flavor, dunk the bag longer.

Man, who'd a thunk it?  How did Lewis & Clark make it past Philadelphia without the Folgers company?  Where did Thomas Jefferson find such penmanship and Barack Obama find such audacity?

Fifteen seconds people, and only fifteen seconds.  Unless of course you're living on the robust, razor's-edge of life, then dunk away at your own risk.