I am whizzing along with the new modem...

So, an opportunity to tell everyone all I need to KNOW about Fast and Furious.

1. designed to lie to the world about law enforcement in the United States.
    hide the names of those responsible
    hide the objective of the exercise in stupidity (allow guns to flow out of control to evil men so you could figure out how they flow and again how the law enforcement will break or not enforce laws in America)
   
2. When a bit smarter folks in the Justice Department saw the stupidity, they ordered it stopped.

3. When a Border Patrol agent was killed by one or more of those weapons that were out of control of the good guys, the Executive Branch (not the President or Attorney General alone) decided that hiding names and evidence was better to raising the dead or honoring the dead and punishing the stupid, we don't want anyone to feel superior or inferior, do we?

4. The Main Stream Media is afraid to find out the truth, the names, the dates and the guilty. We have been robbed of courage, and this is how it goes.


I do know, there are many fine law enforcement officers - the whistle blowers that got the stupidity stopped should be honored. I do know that Democrats don't really want to be seen as corrupt, secretive and probably guilty of more that the Public will never be allowed to know. But I have to let you know, I trust Democrats as little as I do Republicans. I will vote for the individuals, but they had better be shooters, rifle carrying Americans that understand what is right, and WRONG.

Lost my internet last night, but didn't die...

and y'all never missed me, you didn't call, or text, or twit, sing or drop in... I just do not matter. The last serf on the estate, slave in the field, tax payer to all political organizations of do it better-gooders everywhere.

Felt very relaxed and free this morning, didn't have meds, had planned on going getting them and a haircut. I have all the meds now. I find I must be mandated to... on television and PBS is wildly waving their airway arms to get everyone's attention.

Do remember that if you can't get deep enough in the ground on your own, Obama has the ability to spend more than he takes in, in government and political campaign spending. But then he is a minority, the first one to use that excuse for all his less than wonderful behavior.

The next mandate is that all the People not having an assault rifle must get one, with training, joining the well regulated militia to protect the security of a Free State.

It won't happen, but if the People had been paying attention the large debt of the government, the Federal Reserve system, and many other things wouldn't have happened either. I know I probably have engaged in things in the privacy of my home that shouldn't be done in public, but the government is supposed to be PUBLIC, so let it all hang out. Who is getting all the money from the Affordable Care Act? They must not be in the Mayo Clinic.

I will know the government has gone completely crazy as soon as they outlaw competing ways to have better than everyone else. Congress doesn't have to, the President never does, so why should I - the man that bears the burden of holding their house of cards up? Oh, I have stumbled before and might again. Who is going to catch those cards when I do?

You be good out there, I may be off the internet, but I have reloaded my brass. See you on the range or in church. God loves you, even if Obama and those fools in government don't. Thank the Lord! Amen.

Image, what I imagine I look like might not be so...

Oh, I know none of us look like we think we do, and when we are younger we work hard to achieve that certain perfection of 'cool', in my day. After the hair and clothes are right, then the display of fine heroic aura is added for attitude, dude. And you lock that in as tough as it gets, you cling to an image of you among the monsters that dwell in your forest of fears, always battling, always calm, always in control and laughing at the danger and dirt and devil in the details...

Then you grow up, and start to grow old, settling into you and your old fashioned ways. Still wearing blue jeans and tee shirts? Knotting your ties like your daddy did. In an organization you even like the way it was in the old corps, or brown boot army, or just back in the day... but you still can't see yourself as others do, do you?  I must have gotten bit by the 'what do you see when you see me?' bug. For I found real joy in a poem from my mother, a drawing from a trainee of his Drill Sergeant, a description of me written for advancement in rank, position or because it was praise (which I only accept as real from people I deeply respected). Honest evaluation reports for work, critical notes of disappointment in my performance, skills or attitude - all views of me that I value. Quiet cutting comment from my father when he said I looked like a punk. All the real value in clearing my vision blurred by stupidity, vanity, or temporary insanity -- what do they see when they are looking at me?

 As smart as I am, well read and inquiring mind, I discounted much of my early exposure to the truth in my Biblical foundations. I didn't constantly compare and contrast my life (very central) to the lives of the folks populating the stories of long ago and far away. And I knew, as much as my family loved me, that God wasn't really paying any attention to me, He might be paying attention to my parents, or a sick sibling, but I could take care of myself and was too young to help Him. I was pretty certain that I couldn't break His Commandments, so I wasn't worthy of notice. I didn't want to think that He had made me, and my time for His purpose. I supposed that I was only a little part in the plan, a completely disposable part, and the plan would go on without my support, participation and He wouldn't miss me if I was gone.

That last idea, is where suicide starts to look like the answer. Which is completely the wrong reason to take oneself off the game board and stop playing, or living, or loving.

I once had thoughts of doing that, but then there were reasons to believe that when my life was complete here on Earth, the Lord would call me to Him. But I wasn't finished. There is more to be done, and for God having given the blessing, the plenty, the challenges and the creativity to all living creatures, it seems to be Man with the most problem accepting perfect life.

I once wrote a story about Jake, that God had created to give the best life to of all modern men. And every blessing and all the perfect moments that God gave him, Jake would mess it up, and miss out. Now Jake kept trying, and he got pretty good at his life, still God would be there with the perfect woman, the perfect job, the perfect family and each time, Jake would mess it up in a hurry to get the next best thing or on to make his life just the best. Jake did finally meet a fine woman, married, had a family, provided for them and loved them as they grew into the world on its way to wonders. God sighed and kept giving Jake more blessings to make it all better, but Jake was very independent and his life was centered and focused, and he knew what he wanted and worked so hard to get it. Then finally, he died, which is where Jake's story would end, except that Jake had a fine funeral planned and paid for, nice monument, sad but also happy in his memory family and friends... You have heard that your life will pass before you as you come to the end, and having been in places I never wanted to go, I do know that my thoughts are often of places and things I would rather be doing... so in Jake's story, he dies and his life passes before him, as He is giving Jake His final judgment. Yes, Jake got to see where the Lord had given him the best of everything, and Jake had missed the gifts so lovingly given.        Of course, it isn't an autobiographic tale, but it is every man's, isn't it?

Well, I will go mow the yard and finish reloading some 30-06 today. Still wondering what they all see when they lookin' at me... you lookin' at me?

Yes, the godless Communists of North Korea invaded this date...

in 1950. The reason, the American President or someone had said that we would protect our interests around the world, listing them and forgetting the Korea where we had declared a Republic and didn't cherish it. Just a slip of the tongue, or poor staff work. The Soviet Union supplied most of the equipment, the Chinese would supply more volunteers (?) for the liberation. And the United Nations, missing one Veto wielding member on the Security Council would vote to stop the war before it got out of hand. This war effort would get called a police action, assisted the economic industrial recovery of war ravaged Japan, allow the very slow growth of real democracy, and opportunity in the Republic of Korea. By not defeating decisively the godless Communists the Korean people will always owe America and live in fear, which they don't. I will be attending a movie about the war at my church, in remembrance of the anniversary of that wars start and the price paid for delaying victory.

 I know that I just wrote about not being a classification, racial. But someone is always trying to tie me down and box me for resale to interested buyers.

 "get gun owners on one side of the election"

Now, in my mind: all Americans are gun owners, everyone of them. Even if they aren't, my picture of an American always includes owning a weapon, exercising a Right. I think everyone votes as an American, I think everyone works hard as an American. I think everyone is encouraged to stand up for what is good, right and fair.... as an American. Them again, upon a little reflection is the definition of an American in 1858 and 1958 different from what it would be today? A little research, please.

Tom Sawyer
Leave it to Beaver

the American boys are the same, the culture isn't... is it?

I do have a name, I am not a classification...

For ease of stupidity one labels others. It would be much more difficult if we had to know their name, and it would clutter our otherwise perfect mind. There is a Bible passage where Man is to name all the other animals, should I look it up? You can find it, near the beginning.

What has bothered me for a long time now, is how wonderful it is to be White. Really, I never ever realized that I am special because of that. My mother would have loved me Black, blue, red or green. I figure that God looks much deeper, and I know the IRS only cares about how much money I make to give up to their piles of plunder. By the way, they all KNOW my name. So the forward leaning University of Minnesota (state named with an aboriginal language only they spoke) has decided to have a course on how wonderful it is to be born with a privilege of superior race. It only works in this culture, the American one. You have to go overseas to meet populations of people that know you have no manners, respect and are just a curiosity. When the Korean children looked at me from behind their mothers skirts, wondering how someone with such a large nose kept his head up, I knew I wasn't in Kansas anymore. But then I had wandered in a Spanish speaking culture six months out of sync with my homeland for a remarkable period of vacation from school where I was led to believe that compasses spin wildly between the North and South (magnetic) Poles. So I have long known that the world isn't all about me and my privilege and superiority.

So, Earl, wants to know who did decide that Fast and Furious was a wonderful idea, why they haven't been fired, charged and punished for stupidity and abuse of powers not in the Constitution. I could care less what color or race or political party or sexual preference or degree of education that the Attorney General of the United State and the Justice Department. Pick anyone in the office, and tell them that breaking a law is not enforcing it. Then lets get on to telling Congress the whole Gun Control foolishness is exactly that, foolish, .

If you consider that race means something in performance, intelligence, ability to function, or anything more than a help (?) in labeling a human you saw somewhere doing something, well you would be a Racist and so wrong. Racist, bad word for folks that are fools about the human race, just pointing to where they are fools.

I must be getting old, knowing how childish it is to call names to heap abuse upon my opponents and enemies. If they are bad enough just kill them, 'bad' being a threat to my life. Then again, since I grew up, grew older and much smarter I notice that television has little influence over me, it is there, but I have lived without it. Remembering a young girl that sent me a joke from America, that wasn't funny since I hadn't been in America and it had no context with my life.


In 1855, Black Bill was represented by Abraham Lincoln from the charge of being a Negro (I think). I learned of this because I Googled: William Dungey --- my name. Good story, but Illinois was as backward a state in them days as it remains today under the Chicago Political machine. Look carefully at word choice, and then intent of the speaker, and understand that using words to make one superior, or inferior has little use except for little people - it is behavior expected of children.

Summer time and the living is easy...

Sitting, yesterday, sipping coffee on the back porch, listening to the birds and cat creeping along the top of the fence. I have no idea which birds are which, unless it is a gull or a raven. We have all except the gulls around here. Suddenly it gets really noisy, crow caws, seems they are mobbing some poor predator trying to save young or something. Owls, eagles and hawks will leave with dignity and the breeze will carry them all as we climb to all of seventy something. The grass is drying out, after my doctor check up I will have to mow. We have neighbors now.

I read other blogs for my schooling...

A fine blogger has pointed out the pleasures of the French Foreign Legion in northern South America, wasn't that where they built Devil's Island? I find out about writing for kindle publication with Amazon.com, and will likely buy the book to download. So many worlds to visit.

Personally, I have been working on a project with assistance from experts and craftsmen that just are a mouse click away. I surprised myself with how well I was doing, hadn't broken anything so I am ahead. But a little bit challenged to  make it all perfect or at least better I got a list of bolts, washers, nuts and departed for a quick visit to the hardware store. Can't reach through the monitor, yet. Picked up exactly the right stuff, paid for it on my debit card and returned home, just knowing the I would do great things on the morrow. Then I looked at a shelf of my bookcase behind me, and found exactly the same material I had just purchased, EXACTLY! Seems around November or so, I had last touched on this and had done a certain amount of preparation, and life got between where I was going and where I ended up yesterday picking back up.

I mentioned it on Facebook, the reason I hardly write here, and was immediately commented on by other men of similar preparedness. Parts is parts, my only challenge is getting them organized one day, another project. Life is becoming a project. For the next little bit of time, I think I will hit the road, the Sun calls defying the weathermen and women everywhere.