Monday, December 15, 2008

Guarding The Gate

An astute Marine observed that it was not possible for there to be 72 virgins in Heaven since Marines had been guarding the gate for well over 200 years. I agree. I also know the Navy transports Marines wherever they go.
---William Fortner 2008---


Leaving Barney Frank on the banking committee is like gulping more of the same poison that is killing you for an antidote.
---William Fortner 2008---

Arrogant Indifference

No one seems to listen to the people anymore; not Congress, not the Administration, not even the Supreme Court. History records that the spirit of man will not long tolerate tyranny and, when arrogant indifference is forced upon it, pistols, long guns and rope speak for the people. Their voices will not long be ignored nor their will denied.
---William Fortner 2008---

Sunday, December 14, 2008

Unpayable Debt

I see the incredible arrogance in Pelosi and Reid and I wonder what can these people be thinking. Who gave them the authority to mortgage this country with an unpayable debt for unconstitutional reasons? Do they think they will not be called to account for this? I am gravely concerned.
---William Fortner 2008---

Friday, December 12, 2008

The Wicked Warriors of Waianae

Rogues, Rascals and Renegades
The Wicked Warriors of Waianae
by the editor when he was a young minnow in the sea of life.

Long, long ago and far, far away in the land of leis, ti leaf skirts and shakes-in-the-grass, there was a magical place called Waianae. In this little bit of paradise, in a quaint, sea side apartment building, did abide several single sailors. For five days a week, when closely supervised, these sailors toiled long hours at West Loch which sapped their strength to the point of exhaustion. But the island gods demanded sacrifice and ritual of these sailors the other two days.

Saturday mornings began with the sacrifice of a couple of bags of grape or cherry Kool-Ade into the sacramental brown gallon jug followed by
two bottles of Ripple Pagan Pink and a quart of vodka. A small amount of water from the sacred stream on tap in the kitchenette completed the potion. This elixir was then shaken, not stirred, and served to the supplicants directly from the sacramental container. The incredible
liquid came to be known as “Shake-em-up”, for obvious reasons.

First taken in small sips, then increasingly hefty draughts, the potion stimulated the young sailors to display their physical prowess for the
steady stream of golden wahinis who drifted by on the heady aroma of Plumeria blossoms. The young men engaged in ritual contests of volleyball and other feats of physical skill to impress the wahinis. Being an island nation, everything had to be shipped in which made material for swimsuits expensive, but the wahini’s made do with as little as possible. This was appreciated by the young sailors and they stared approvingly... sometimes so hard that the tops of their eyeballs got sunburned.

Eventually, the magic elixir would overcome the young sailors and they could be found draped over most anything horizontal, or sprawled out
in the sand like road kill. In every case, the sacred circle of red or purple was prominently displayed beneath their noses, the vividness of the color an indication of their dedication and how long they would be communing with the gods. Other acolytes rolled the devotees into the shade before they became burnt offerings. One occasion, the Kahuna of the group, a
young man I called John, invited me up to share in the sacrifice, participate in the rituals and ogle the wahinis. It was an offer no sailor could resist. I begged leave of She Who Must Be Obeyed and rose up in the middle of the afternoon to join my shipmates in their celebration. I
took my young bulldog puppy with me. I arrived to find most in deep communion with the gods, some laying half in and half out of the gently breaking surf. It was a sight to behold. Such dedication. It was obvious that I was far behind them. I was offered a sip of the potent libation and carefully flipped the sacramental jug over my forearm and took in a great, honking gulp so I could catch up with the others.

In a split second, my toes curled, my chin left an impression in the sand, my tongue was stripped of its ability to sense flavor and the hair in my nose uprooted itself and ran screaming toward the sea. The religious epiphany was such that I was speechless for several minutes until I was able to breathe again. I could see why the young sailors had reported diving into lawn chairs head first, swimming vigorously in the sand to escape sea monsters, seeing visions and speaking in unknown tongues. Yea, verily, it was good stuff!

I remember little of the remainder of the evening. I do recall moving inside and one devotee prostrating himself in the middle of the temple walkway. Some acoylytes dutifully rolled him out of harm’s way and set the large coffee table over him to prevent accidents. I remember some time later the fierce and insistent banging on the underside of the coffee table and the terrified cry, “I AM ALIVE! I AM ALIVE! DON’T BURY ME! I AM STILL ALIVE. It took several draughts of elixer to calm him.

I awoke the next morning in my own bed not knowing exactly how I had gotten there and feeling like 500 pounds of homemade sin on a popsicle stick. My hair throbbed in agony. I slowly, and I mean slowly so my heels would not slam down on the floor and jar my head, made my way first to the medicine cabinet to get some aspirin and then to the kitchen for
some water. On the way, I saw my dog, feet up, laying in the sun and his tongue snaked out like a wide strip of bacon. All manner of bugs were traversing his tongue enroute to other places. Apparently his breath
was a bit stout for them. Even I didn’t hurt as bad as he looked. I gathered him into the house and administered one aspirin to him and four to myself. We lay on the carpet for the remainder of the day, suffering like the dogs we were.

Saturday, December 6, 2008

Odd Lot

Christians are an odd lot. They will die for their belief in Jesus Christ, but not fight for it.
---William Fortner 2008---

Liars Thieves and Montebanks

When the government is rife with liars, thieves and montebanks and overt lawlessness among themselves is given tacit approval by the congressional leadership it should come as no surprise when the citizenry holds them in low esteem and follows their example.
---William Fortner 2008---

Stark Reality

Stark reality begins to dawn on many Obama voters as they grasp the reality that they have voted away their livelihood and freedom for an empty suit's vaporous rhetoric.
---William Fortner 2008---

Public Masters

Every single time the government has violated the letter, spirit or intent of the Constitution of the United States the country and the people have suffered while the government has gotten stronger, more intrusive, more controlling, more distant, more aloof and has led us farther from that shining beacon on a hill that was America. Public servants have become the public's masters.
---William Fortner 2008---

Shred Pelosi's Credit Card

Judging from the Democrat made and managed economic disaster and incredible national debt, it is past time for Harry Reid's hands to get yanked from the taxpayers' pockets and Nancy Pelosi's national treasury credit card to get shredded.
---William Fortner 2008---

Survival of the Fittest

Survival of the fittest is a reality. When the government disarms honest citizens it skews survival in favor of the criminal thus ensuring a growing criminal threat.
---William Fortner 2008---

For The Children

Unprecedented, massive national debt compliments of the Democrat Party..."It's for the children"... and their children...and their children...and their pay.
---William Fortner 2008---