Why the World Needs Star Trek Right Now

The new movie is out to glorious reviews. I could not agree more. What a wonderful film this is! I could review the film with glowing prose and tearful joy at how wonderful it is. I could tell you that the sound, the lighting, the pacing, the sequences, are all perfect. (They are by the way.) I could tell you that the actors absolutely NAILED their parts and that it is different enough to be original and traditional enough to be respectful. I could sing the praises of this film for about three weeks straight. However, I’m not going that route this time. This movie deserves so much more.

I think that the Star Trek film reflects what American society needs right now. We have a war to contend with, a failing economy, swine flu, and the list goes on and on. Star Trek does not go the route that Battlestar Galactica did in its pointed portrayal of humanity in all its fallen and desperate, depressing state. While Galactica offered some hope for us at the end of the series, it was largely dark and brooding and…well…scary. That has its place and everyone who knows me understands how much I love BSG. However, the new Star Trek takes a different route. The movie returns to its roots and offers an almost joyous sense of optimism without being preachy or over the top. There is a sense that humanity just might be alright after all if we can reach inside and past our fallen natures. There is still good waiting to be harvested. Trek gives joy to adventure once more and excitement that is tempered with humor and drama. Even if this sense of hope for humanity is unrealistic or even if this hope is false, the movie gives a glimpse at what is great about human beings. We seek out strange new “anythings.” We boldly go where no one has gone before. In short, we are the movers and shakers of the universe. It is how God made us. We should sense that created nobility that we all have. Trek is the right movie at the right time. It offers optimism in the face of difficult days.

Silly Liberals, Moments of Silence…uh…Silenced

"The statute is a subtle effort to force students at impressionable ages to contemplate religion."
-U.S. District Judge Robert W. Gettleman

The moment of silence has once again left the school system. Are we surprised? Nope, not a bit. Heaven forbid, excuse the reference, that we would ever have a time of thoughtful reflection in our public schools. Silence in schools? What a concept! The dastardly thirty seconds of noiseless bliss could harm our children and cause them to become Bible thumping, witch burning, sexual repressed, bigots. We can’t have that! I wonder if the folks opposed to the moment of silence will be offended when I tell my students to be quiet and think. Perhaps I could put it this way:

“If you feel that it would be appropriate for you, and you do not find it personally offensive, would you please take a moment to be quiet and think about the assignment.”

Now, I realize that this is not the same thing as the prayer, meditation, blank staring, etc. that the official state mandated silent time was. The point I make is that our court systems and a few mentally challenged liberals are threatened by a moment of silence. Silence! No noise is a scary thing I suppose. Why if we have that, then students might learn a bit of self control and perhaps they will use the time to think. There is the off hand chance that religious students might pray to God or Allah, meditate, chant in their heads or focus inwardly. They could even pray to Satan if they wanted to do so. Jehovah Witnesses could plan their next “door to door” in their minds. Scientologists could purge the ingrams of departed space aliens. Atheists could….be quiet. They could check out the cute girls, mentally plan their next bar hopping puke-a-thon, or think about how much they hate Christians.

What astonishes me is the fact that the powers of our court systems bow to these few folks who squeal and whine when they don’t like something. I find it ridiculous that my own liberal union would likely spend thousands to defend my rights, if I so chose, to wear a hoop earring hanging from my nose, while dressed in drag and high heels, humming “Sweet Transvestite from Transylvania” as I passed out condoms to Kindergarteners! But a moment of silence….we can’t have that! What a Godless, screwed up world we live in. I, for one, will take all the silent moments I can get. There are so few. And I thank GOD for those!

Respects,
(Grammar rules violated blatantly for dramatic purposes.)

The Redistribution of Wealth Liberal Love or Stupid Notion?

“I am for doing good to the poor, but I differ in opinion of the means. I think the best way of doing good to the poor, is not making them easy in poverty, but leading or driving them out of it. In my youth I traveled much, and I observed in different countries, that the more public provisions were made for the poor, the less they provided for themselves, and of course became poorer. And, on the contrary, the less was done for them, the more they did for themselves, and became richer.”

- Ben Franklin

What does President Barack Hussein Obama mean when he makes statements about our tax dollars? He wants them to be “spread around better.” What this means is more of the dirty word Obama avoids like the plague: “welfare.” He already did this in my state in Chicago. He now wants to do it all through America.

Let me see if I have all the steps in place:

1. Give tax breaks to 95% of Americans that will amount to about what Bush gave for an economy stimulation check.
2. Tax those that make $250,000 around 45%.
3. Cripple the small businessman as a result.
4. Cause the small businessman to either go out of business, lay off workers, or charge more.
5. Pass the cost of this on to those that were given the tax cut in the first place.
6. Those who were given a tax cut pay more for things that they purchase than the amount of the tax cut they originally received.
7. Net result: The redistribution of wealth FAILS utterly, and the economy gets even worse.

This is like setting someone on fire to cure acne. Why do liberals think this sort of nutty idea will work? It makes no sense. Are Liberals so pitiful that they think I somehow owe them a living? It seems so to me. How much is enough?

Here is an idea:

Get a job.
Work hard.
Stop complaining that you don’t have as much as your neighbor.
Stop being a victim.
Start depending on your God given talents.
Stop whining.
Allow capitalism to work.


In short, I dislike the notion of my tax dollars going to keep up the American BUM association. If you’re sick or crippled or otherwise handicapped, that is one thing; if you are too lazy to get off the couch or think you are too good to work at McDonald’s that is something else. Starvation is a big motivator. We need to stop enabling these people. It shows them no dignity and teaches them helplessness. Certainly we need social programs; however, we do not need to program people socially. If President Obama thinks this is a good idea, I would be very interested to see what he thinks about Communism.

Conservative Liberals: Oxymorons or just morons

Liberals! I do not understand the liberal thinking of our country these days. When Palin was nominated by presidential hopeful McCain the entire liberal network seemed to go into attack mode. If was as if they said,

“Oh no, a conservative woman with traditional, pro-life values has been nominated. She even likes to cook for her husband. She loves and supports the traditional family. We have to do something!”

So what did they do?

They find out that her daughter is pregnant. They question her ability to be a good mother and serve our country.

Did I miss something?

Aren’t these kooks the same morons that supported Hilary? What about her “family” life. I suppose since her daughter is older that makes her a safe candidate. Leaving the family care issues aside, they moved on to her 17 year old pregnant daughter. Clearly they think this makes Palin a bad candidate since she obviously could not control the sexuality of her daughter.

Hold on. Wait a second.

Since when did liberals give a rat about traditional values? These same goofs, who are drawing in a sharp breath to discredit Palin because of her daughter, were staunch supporters of threesome sex between two guys that included a goat just last week. When did these folks get so moral?

I’ll tell you when.

They got ethics the moment a conservative woman who stood with her daughter and loved her even though she made a mistake got nominated. They got indignant when a lady who just might become an icon for young ladies got tapped for the VP slot. What they are is scared. They are afraid that a woman with power might actually have a normal female perspective. The feminazis will not like Palin. The liberal gay male will not like Palin. The feminist will hate Palin. The lesbians will hate Palin.

I love Palin.

So will those who hold a traditional family, pro-life, and (dare I say it?) Christian perspective.

Guess what liberals. Most of America holds a traditional view. You have to go to Hollyweird to find fewer conservative thinking folks than if you walk out your door right now. Yeah, the liberals will win some states. They will show up good on Election Day. However, they will do so with trembling fear that a conservative woman just might end up in Washington. I, for one, sure hope she does.

Go Palin! She is one woman that is traditional, smart, conservative, family oriented, loves her husband, respects her husband, values life, and just makes darn good sense.

And she’s pretty to boot!

What Happened to Tom?

* If you are squeamish stop reading now.


As most of you know I rarely, if ever, miss school. However, all that changed Tuesday night. I was quietly watching a special on Jupiter’s moons around 6:00 PM when I began to feel “odd.” I lay down on the couch, and my little girl came to check on me and asked if I were ok. When I told her I felt bad, she wanted to help. My little one got a coffee cup, filled it with red Hawaiian Punch and dropped a few ice cubes in. I took it and sent her on her way in case I was contagious. I began to feel worse with a dull pain right below the center of my chest at the top of my stomach. It grew worse, and felt like it was increasing in diameter. I made my way to the bedroom to lie down early for the night. I told my wife that I just didn’t feel well. The pain grew worse and the weird feeling in my upper stomach grew larger. In a few minutes I began to feel intense nausea. This was horrendous and reminded me of what many pregnant ladies have described. However, certain that I was not pregnant; I rushed to the restroom where I began a trip to a place I have never been before. We had ordered pizza for supper. I began to vomit. I regretted the pizza immediately. I expected to feel better after the initial upchucking and was not disappointed. I felt better for about 2 minutes. Then I noticed that the pain in my upper stomach had started again. The nausea returned even worse. I raced to the restroom where I once more delivered pizza to the porcelain patron. I knew at that point that I was in for a wild night. About every 10-15 minutes, I returned to place my face closer to a toilet than I care to remember. It was at my second or third delirious visit that the notion that this was not a “normal” puking came to me. It was so much more. I threw up in a way that makes elephant birthing seem easy. I hit the toilet; I was at an intensely close range. However, I also managed to launch projectiles to the floor, the surrounding walls, and the splatter effect nailed my shirt, hair, and face, until after each session I needed a washcloth bath. I started removing my T-shirt prior to puking. (Yes, I had that much fine control.) I could tell when it was about to happen. I imagine I made a grand vision of masculinity when my wife would check on me. I would yell between gags, “Get out of here!” or “Don’t come in here!” I knew that if I were contagious that I didn’t want to give this to my family. I was certain that the bile geyser would soon cease. It had to. There was no way that I had anything left to donate. However, for some reason, I managed to keep going like a male Emperor Penguin regurgitating force fed food into the toilet. I threw up things from another dimension. This was more than disembarking dinner. I was violently ill. At this point my large intestine apparently felt left out. (I’ll not go into to this one.) Suffice it to say, that I experienced unique and amazing bodily coordination. My entrance and exit only hatches worked in eerie concert to empty my body of fluids not to mention the rivulets of cold sweat that raced down my face like rain. I am told that all this is what drug me down into dehydration. I had never been dehydrated before. At last I experienced a brief refrain from the gastrointestinal equivalent to the last days of Pompeii. As I lay panting on my bed in exhaustion, my wife quietly asked from the door.

“Is there anything I can get you? Is there anything you need?”

“A bullet.” I quipped.

The dehydration was making me feel so bad that I have trouble describing it. I can only say that you have to experience dehydration in order to truly understand it. I thought my heart was going to stop, and I wondered if I might die. I am not a complainer and my wife takes me serious when I do. I usually tough out things, but this time it was not to be. I told my wife that I was not going to be able to manage this by myself, and that she needed to call my dad to get me to the emergency room. When my dad arrived, he stood waiting on me. My wife had to dress me, which in another situation might have been fun, but at that moment I felt like a bloated toad in a pie pan.

My dad got me to the emergency room where I stumbled in and sat at the admissions desk. After buzzing the call button, and waiting a bit, the clerk arrived. My head was down, but I managed to give them my insurance information. I wondered what they might think if I were to hurl all over the desk. They took me back and placed me, not on a bed, but what I think was some sort of mobile gurney used in an ambulance. It was very narrow and the whole time I felt like a walrus on a surfboard. The nurse came in and took my vitals and used the automatic blood pressure cup. These things operate like a boa constrictor. I thought it might crush the bones in my arm. After this came the IV. To the nurse’s credit, she hit my vein on the first try. The slow process of rehydration had begun. Hours later I still lay shivering on the surf board bed despite warm blankets. I could not drink, but they did allow me to eat ice chips. The ice was delicious but made my shivering worse. They kept coming in to use the constrictor cup to take my blood pressure while I lay in the bed. They would then have me stand up and retake it along with my pulse rate. You have not lived until you have to stand up with a blood pressure cup on your arm, an IV in your vein while sick and freezing. I was told this was how they determined if I was still dehydrated. My readings should be about the same if all was well. They never returned to normal, and the doctor spoke about admitting me to the hospital. I was able to talk my way out of admission. (You all have seen our deductible.) I was finally sent home around 4:30 AM. My wonderful dad raced to get the truck to pull around to the ambulance entrance so I would not have to walk far. Little did I know, until the next day, that he threw up in the parking lot. Thankfully, he did not get as ill as I did, but he still stayed in bed a couple of days and got very sick. I stumbled into my home and made my way to bed around 5:00 AM. I was to stay there for the next two days. Finally, on Friday, I began to feel some better, and at lunch my wife and I went to get something to eat. It was not pizza.

I’m back today and glad of it. The residual effects of my ordeal are fatigue. My energy level is low, and I feel foggy headed. However, I can function. I wanted to thank all of you that contacted me while I was ill. I appreciate all the folks that I have run into today that have asked about me and wished me well. All the people that handled my absence by either delivering my lesson plans or helping the subs out are deeply appreciated. This is one of the reasons I love Edinburg. The concern we have for each other here speaks well of this little school. My wonderful wife took care of me and put up with my dark humor through all of it. (She has to cope with that all the time anyway.) I have never been that sick before. Maybe it was harder because I am older. Thank God for family and friends. Thank God for health.

Why is 'if' the middle word in life?

Wake, work, wish, sleep. Rinse and repeat. We all fall into the trap of making a living, fighting the good fight, and trying to pay the house off early. Yet while we are doing all of this, life is passing right through us, around us, and rushing headlong into eternity. When I stop to consider the “if” part of life, I have to wonder how I will measure up when life is over. I always have to be “here” or do “that” or change “this.” Do I really live, or am I busy existing? It is this thought that keeps my brain grinding like a locomotive everyday and night of my life. Sometimes what I see scares me and makes me wonder if I am merely the jester of the king’s court. Perhaps I am fooling myself instead of everyone else. Perhaps I have lost my edge. Perhaps I’ve lost my focus.

And then I meet her.

She’s this quiet, little thing that graces my Monday classroom with the soft presence of a snowflake. I can see she’s timid because she’s new. I know how it feels to be new. Uncertainty blankets her face, and I can see that she is sizing me up and wondering what sort of monster I might be. And then the jester comes out and dashes her stoic face and fearful countenance. I see a smile. It is a typical smile, but it warms my soul. I begin to consider just why I’m here. The “if” in life starts to focus again.

• If I do my best for her and all my other students, what might happen?

• If I drop my preconceived notions about how things are, what will I learn?

• If I give just a little more of myself, can I bring these kids something they need?

Flash forward to today, Friday. I get a book with a note from Ms. Snowflake. It reads,

“Hey what’s up? I just wanted to say “hey” to my favorite teacher…”

I’m stunned. On day 5? I don’t deserve this. Yet there it is. I am holding it in my hand. I am reading it with my eyes.

I think I remember what the “if” means now.