THE RETURN

Our return trip was long and uneventful, lacking the interesting stops that had marked the Missouri to Mexico leg.  I found myself lapsing into a reverie in which my mind was almost exclusively focused on Mexico and how different its culture was from my own.  Even at that young age, I was certain that what I had seen in Mexico was unique in terms of its contrast to the Anglo culture of which I was a part.

I also found myself wondering what forces in history were responsible for making Mexico such an incredibly interesting country and yet, at the same time, such a difficult place to understand..  Little did I know at the time that I was on the verge of a journey that would lead into decades of pondering the the dynamics of history and how various cultures are accordingly aligned and differentiated.  Could it be, I thought, that history is nothing more than blind chance that established the cultural parameters that I found so interesting?  But, somehow, that did not satisfy me,  as I concluded that there had to be much more to account for cultural differences and their consequences for nations, societies and civilizations.

Although I could not realize it at the time, I was in effect embarking on an effort to understand history as something much more profound than the rote memorization and recitation of names, battles, governments, dates and assorted events.  In reality, I was yearning to get at basic causes and effects.

The history classes I was required to take in secondary school were totally unsatisfying, although I was able to excel grade-wise.  My only consolation was my best friend, who today is an honored emeritus professor of history in a state university.  Our mutual interests enabled us to delve more deeply in the meaning of history than was possible through the prescribed syllabuses of the public schools.

Looking back, I see now that my curiosity would lead me to the smorgasbord of historical interpretations and explanations, eventually propelling me into undergraduate and graduate programs in history and compelling me to seek a career in higher education.  On the way, I attempted to apply a myriad of schools of thought to my understanding of history in general and of Mexico in particular.

By my second year of college, I thought I could best see history as the working out of a divine plan, that the prime mover was a source of will that determined what would be the outcome of human history and how mankind would be affected by what was basically inscrutable.

Later I would be impressed with the idea that history was an organic process,  a macrocosm of the life-force driving human beings through the endless challenges of existence.  But, then, I wondered about the effects of the talents, ambitions and drive of solitary individuals who were themselves engines in moving history.  Indeed, the power of individuals to affect the course of history is endlessly replicated to the point that some would say that those who have been seen as gods and goddesses on this earth may be accounted for as being humans who performed great deeds somewhere in the mists of time, ensuring their immortality and eventual deification.

In rhythm there is point and counterpoint.  The same principles could be said to hold sway in the  constant clashing of ideas, religions, ideologies and economic forces that have been present in the ongoing march of history.  In this regard, the essence of history could be seen as a universal cycle that repeats itself almost mechanically in multiple settings and times.

I considered, also, if explanation could not be forthcoming by a strict recounting of natural phenomena and how human beings and their undertakings might have been fundamentally affected by climatic changes and such natural occurrences as droughts, hurricanes, floods, ice ages, famines, glaciation, and desertification.  Indeed, history is full of the waxing and waning of human progress over thousands of years owing to such forces.

I would, in succeeding years, equate names with ideas and fill my mind with the likes of Burke, Braudel, Ortega, Ranke, Toynbee, Marx, Thucydides, Seneca, Lucretius, Carlyle, Kirk, Kant,  Diamond, Voltaire, Croece, Vico, Machiavelli and others.  However, in retrospect,I feel it is safe to say that  I would never had familiarity with such names and ideas if it had not been for a trip into Mexico that a twelve-year-old took with his father.

IV. A LONG-LIVED FASCINATION WITH MEXICO: THE CONSEQUENCES OF JOSE'S INSTRUCTION

To say that my brief time with our guide Jose was an eye-opener would be an understatement, for he set the wheels of my twelve-year-old brain turning as they had never turned before.  In effect, my very brief first visit to Mexico had turned out to be a cultural epiphany, opening up new ways of viewing people and their histories.  In the course of our dialog, it occurred to me that in order to understand people as they grouped themselves into nations and cultures, I had to know not only their chronological histories, but also their forms of expression, both physical and spiritual, and what the sum total of their various experiences produced in terms of shared identities.

As for the Virgin of Guadalupe, she came to occupy a substantial portion of my imagination, for even them I was drawn toward mystery and how the imagination might reveal areas of truth untouched by what I would later learn to call empirical inquiry.  For the time being, the Lady of Guadalupe became my passport for initial entry into the Mexican psyche, affording me a glimpse into what it meant to be "Mexican."

I would find my boundaries greatly expanded a year and a half later, when I was fortunate to encounter a young fellow history traveler who would prove to be my best friend through high school and college.  After spending his initial school years at Sacred Heart School in Poplar Bluff, my friend made the transition to the public junior high school, where his inquiring mind and efforts to probe more deeply beyond the cursory teaching of history that passed as education at that time enabled me to quickly identify him as a kindred spirit.  It was through my friendship with him that I would learn of other Marian apparitions that had occurred in scattered venues across the globe. Being consequently somewhat better informed, I began the process of of placing the Virgin of Guadalupe in historical context, an ongoing process which continues to this day.

It is for certain that my friend and I were seen as being somewhat odd for that time in Poplar Bluff, Missouri.  What especially set us apart from our contemporaries, I think, were our lunchtime discussions on such topics as the toppling of the Mohamed Mossadegh government in Iran, the CIA-backed coup against the Arbenz government in Guatemala, the 1956 Hungarian Revolution and the progress of the Cuban fighters in the Sierra Madre against the Batista regime.  Our junior high acquaintances  who habitually had lunch with us at Nick's Steel Grill in downtown Poplar Bluff never tired of referring to us as "eggheads." 

Our final full day in Monterrey would be a Sunday.  Ever the stickler for regular church attendance, my father located a Protestant chapel nearby our hotel.  Although the language of the service was, of course, Spanish,  I very much enjoyed the choir and the congregational singing of hymns.  I also recall that we were warmly greeted by the pastor and members of the congregation.

Since the next day would be a long day of driving,  Dad decided that the remainder of Sunday would be devoted to rest and relaxation.  In that spirit, we had an early dinner and by 7 PM, my father had retired to his bed.  It was then that I engaged in an act of filial disobedience that I would not admit of for nearly twenty years.

At the onset of my father's snoring, I quietly slipped out of our room and made for the nearby main plaza.  It was soon dark and, as I sat by myself, I became a keen observer of what was transpiring. There was a musical group of students performing,  but what most drew my attention were ongoing processions around the plaza, one of young men and the other of young women, each going in opposite directions.  It did not take me long to discern that those doing the processing were ogling each other, while older ladies seated on the sidelines were serving as chaperones. I would later learn that the older ladies were called "duenas" and that what I had observed was a courting ritual called the "paseo."

By 10 PM I had returned to the Ancira and, as unobtrusively as possible, managed to get into my bed without waking my father, who never expected that his son had been out and about.  I did not fall asleep immediately.  Instead I mulled over my experience of the last three days.  Finally, concluding that Mexico was a far different place than Poplar Bluff, I fell into a deep sleep from which I awoke at 7 AM the next morning.

In all the years that have gone by, I have never wavered from my youthful conclusion.  Mexico is, indeed, a very different place.  In fact, I would be hard-pressed to name two countries sharing common borders that are as different as Mexico and the United States.  It is that dissimilarity that was observed by a twelve-year-old boy some sixty years ago that has continued to account for my fascination with the land that lies to the south of the Rio Grande.

A LONG-LIVED FASCINATION WITH MEXICO

III.  THE TRIP:  MONTERREY

Saturday dawned bright and beautiful. By 8:30, we had been served our breakfast; and, despite my father's entreaties, I had demolished a plate full of huevos rancheros in record time. Shortly thereafter, Jose arrived at the Ancira.  Despite the prospect of an exciting itinerary, which included visits to the Cuautemoc-Moctezuma Brewery and the Government Palace, I immediately let lose a volley of questions concerning the woman in the cloak. Thankfully, I was promised by Jose that he would satisfy my curiosity during the course of the day.

At that particular stage of my life, breweries had not yet captured my fancy.  Nevertheless, I did enjoy hearing how German immigrants had arrived at the end of the 19th century and how their presence had been crucial in establishing a thriving beer industry in Monterrey.

The government palace was indeed beautiful, bespeaking well of Nuevo Leon in an architectural style that I would later learn was French-classical.  Later, in taking my knowledge of Mexican history to another level, I would understand that more than a few Mexican political exiles in the mid-19th century passed their banishments in France, where they were imbued with appreciation for French culture, including French architecture, which they tended to copy after their return to Mexico.

Finally, after leaving the Government Palace, I was able to impress upon Jose my keenness to commence learning about the lady whose likenesses I had seen throughout Monterrey.  Thus began my introduction to the Virgin of Guadalupe.

Jose proved to be a patient teacher who enlightened me on the Spanish conquest, emphasizing how indigenous cultures and religions had been devastated by the Conquistadors.  With my father's approval, we stopped at one of Monterrey's beautiful parks and spent at least an hour and a half listening to Jose's interpretation of early colonial Mexican history.  I was especially intrigued by his ability to explain how Mesoamerican practices had been interwoven into the Mexican expression of Spanish Catholicism and had survived in a unique syncretic form of Christianity. Moving on, Jose next led me into a biblical description of the lady whose likeness had made such a decided impression on me.

Following up on my interest of the previous day, Jose had brought with him a Spanish Bible, within which he directed my attention to the Book of Revelation and a passage which described a young woman cloaked with stars, surrounded by the rays of the sun and standing on the moon.  This was the apocalyptic description of the Holy Mother, the Mother of Christ.

Although having a passing acquaintance with the Conquest, I was not totally familiar with its chronology.  With a quick rundown, Jose took me from the fall of Tenochtitlan in 1521 up to 1531, the traditional date of the apparition of the Virgin of Guadalupe.  He had my total attention, as he told the story of Juan Diego, an Indian peasant who had converted to Christianity, and how he had been passing Tepeyac Hill, outside the city now called Mexico, which had been erected on the ruins of Tenochtitlan.  Juan Diego, according to the story, had been on his way to mass, but heard a voice summoning him to the crest of the hill on a Saturday during the month of December.

Climbing the hill, Juan Diego encountered a beautiful young woman, before whom he bowed down in adoration.  Dressed in raiment such as that described in Revelation, the Virgin implored him to convey to Juan de Zumarraga, the Franciscan bishop of Mexico, her desire to have a chapel on the hill as a means of showing her love for her people.  Juan Diego did indeed manage to see the bishop but was turned away for having no visible proof of his story.

On the following day, Juan Diego was once again traveling in the vicinity of Tepeyac Hill, this time in search of a priest to administer last rites to his uncle.  Despite his best efforts to avoid the hill, he again heard the sweet, melodic voice of the Virgin, who told him that all would be well with his uncle and that she was not finished with the chore which she had commanded Juan Diego to undertake.

This time, the Virgin indicated that she would send Juan Diego to the bishop with a sign. Following her instructions, Juan Diego removed his "tilma," or cloak, within which the Virgin placed a bouquet of Castilian roses, a miracle in itself, as roses would not ordinarily be growing in such surroundings, especially in December.  For the second time, Juan Diego went before the bishop.  This time he unfolded his cloak and not only did the garment contain roses, but upon it there was emblazoned the image of the Virgin.  Significantly, the image presented was that of a Virgin with brown skin, very much like the complexions of the Indian populations of Mexico.

Subsequently, according to Jose, chapels were built on the hillside which came to be called Guadalupe.  The dark-skinned Virgin became the patroness of Mexico, and pilgrimages would be undertaken to honor her there, as the Virgin of Guadalupe would draw the dark-skinned masses of Mexico to a mass conversion to Catholicism.

TO BE CONTINUED

II. THE TRIP: MEXICO AND ARRIVAL IN MONTERREY

For a twelve-year-old, crossing into Mexico at Reynosa was an exciting experience.  The Aduana (customs) officers were impressively uniformed and exuded old-world courtesy.  One of the officers was looking for a ride to the next checkpoint, south of Reynosa; however, my father, always exercising the utmost in caution, expressed his regrets, and we continued on our way to Monterrey.

Lunch time rolled around as we reached the halfway point to Monterrey.  Always an aficionado  of tamales since sampling some in the home of a Mexican lady in Poplar Bluff, my father was craving real Mexican food and pulled off the road at a small restaurant.  The menu was a virtual compendium of dishes, from which my father found his tamales, while I settled on enchiladas.  From a window by our table, I heard a distinctive noise of "slap, slap, slap."  Peering out the window, I saw a griddle over an open fire, above which two ladies were molding a corn mixture into tortillas, which would be grilled into the fresh, corn-based ovals accompanying our meal.  Although I did not, of course, realize it at the time, I had glimpsed an important part of the Mexican culture and the significant niche held by corn throughout virtually all the Mexican past.  In due course, as I surveyed Mesoamerican religion and mythology, I would find that corn had a very special connection with the Mexican people for almost four millennia.

Entering Monterrey late in the afternoon on a Thursday, we found the business district to be a bustling place.  My father explained to me that Monterrey was an industrial center, well known for the production of iron and steel, and also for its breweries.  As such, he said, Monterrey had been deemed the "Pittsburg of Mexico."

Our lodging for the next three nights would be at the Hotel Ancira, a classic old hotel, where it was reputed that Pancho Villa had once ridden his mount up the hotel's beautiful marble staircase. That evening, we dined nearby in a picturesque restaurant, the Louisiana, where, for the first time in my young life, I saw crepe suzettes prepared tableside by tuxedo-clad waiters.

Friday saw my father obtaining the services of a guide, a student from Monterrey Tech, who escorted us to the waterfall of Cola de Caballo, as well as to the historic seat of the Archbishop of Monterrey, and to a glass factory.

The waterfall was the highlight of my day.  It was a narrow chute, tumbling from a great height and did, indeed, remind me of a horse's tail.  The force of the water's drop was greatly magnified by a trek to the base of the falls on the back of a burro.

After a full day, punctuated by lunch at the falls, my father concluded that, since there was much more to be seen, our guide should meet us again early Saturday morning at the Ancira, and we would resume our tour of the city.

During various stops on Friday, I had seen several representations of a woman clad in a cloak, covered by what appeared to be stars and standing on top of a crescent moon.  At two locations, there seemed to be shrines to the mysterious lady.  When I questioned my father about what I had seen, he replied that, as far as he knew, they were depictions of the Virgin Mary.  However, not being satisfied with that answer, I resolved to take up the matter on the following morning with our guide.

After a quick meal in the hotel's restaurant, we retired early.  Saturday would prove to be another uncommon day for a twelve-year-old from Poplar Bluff.

A LONG-LIVED FASCINATION WITH MEXICO (CONTINUED)

I.  THE TRIP:  TEXAS

It was the day after Christmas. Presents had been opened, wrapping paper disposed of, and the house had been straightened up.  Some days earlier, my father had serviced his trusty Buick Roadmaster sedan.  By 6:00 AM, we had loaded our luggage, locked up and were on Highway 67 South, heading toward Little Rock and points south.

I was no stranger to long-distance travel, having accompanied my father on trips throughout the U.S. and even into French Canada.  My father was a widower who tried to make up for my being motherless by providing me with exposure to as many learning experiences as possible.  His efforts to compensate for the loss of my mother were compounded by the fact that I had witnessed her death in a tragic car crash two years earlier. He was also possessed of abundant wanderlust, and this meant that I naturally assumed that life was one exciting trip after another.  And, as a seasoned traveler and a bookworm, I made certain to carry along plenty of books and snacks. Although several weeks had transpired since the radio history contest, my cranium was still crammed, thanks to Mrs. Corbett, with such a staggering load of historical trivia that - had I known of her at the time - would surely have qualified me as a dedicated servant of Clio, the muse of history.

I recall that our first night's stop was at Eldorado, Arkansas.  I also remember that there was nothing in Eldorado that stirred my imagination.  It was Texas, that land of awe-inspiring history and heroes of epic proportions that I wanted to experience.

Our second day on the road saw us finally entering Texas.  I had no idea of the distances involved in traveling from one Texas town to another.  However, Texas did not disappoint me, largely I think, because my father had planned most capably, with well thought-out stops at Austin and San Antonio.

One entire afternoon was spent inside and on the grounds of the Texas state capitol.  As I wandered the premises, history literally walloped me at every turn.  Not only was the capitol building larger than its national counterpart, there were monuments galore, each one of which eulogized Texas martyrs, revolutionaries, rangers and assorted icons from the 19th and 20th centuries.

After a night in a downtown Austin hotel and breakfast in a restaurant on Congress Avenue, Dad headed the car south.  In no time at all, we had cleared the Austin city limits and were moving on toward San Antonio and the Alamo.  Austin in 1954, although impressive because of its history and monuments, was nothing like the burgeoning  metropolis of 2014, which is rapidly filling up with economic refugees from California and the Rust Belt, resulting in some of the worst traffic jams in the country.

Keeping my eyes focused on the landscape slipping by as our southern progress continued, my imagination turned to what it must have been like in February of 1836, as Santa Anna and his forces marched northward through similar terrain on their way to a dusty little outpost  called San Antonio and the Alamo.

Arriving in San Antonio around noon, I was so excited that I could barely get through my lunch, anticipating what lay ahead in the afternoon at the Alamo.  By early afternoon, we were finally inside the Alamo.  Very quickly,  I found a solitary corner in the vicinity of the Long Barracks and allowed my imagination to run wild.  In my reverie, it was if I were witnessing the final Mexican assault in the early morning hours of March 6, 1836.  Travis, Bowie, Crockett and the martyrs were gallantly facing overwhelming odds, as the sights and sounds of battle filled my head.  Two hours later, my father cut short my daydream, informing me that it was time to move on.

Before leaving San Antonio, however, I was able to view the martyrs' monument in Monument Square.  I distinctly recall the Spanish surname of "Guerrero" somehow standing out among the long list of the fallen.  Implausibly, that would be the family name of the woman I was destined to marry some decades later.  It also made me aware that an independent Texas was not brought into being as a purely Anglo undertaking.  Eventually, I would learn that names such as Ruiz, Navarro and Zavala would  be numbered among the signers of the Texas Declaration of Independence and the Constitution of the Republic of Texas.

Not far south of San Antonio, we crossed a bridge over a trickle of water that somehow had been dubbed the "Medina River."   Fom behind the steering wheel, my father remarked that such a "river" would not even qualify for gully status back home.  Nevertheless, I dimly recalled that I had come across a reference to the Medina River in the Encyclopedia, during the many hours I had been segregated by Mrs. Corbett in the library of Kinyon Elementary School.

Further reflection led to my concluding that we were near where the bloodiest day  in the history of Texas had taken place in 1813, when forces led by Bernardo Gutierrez, the self-proclaimed president of the "Republica del Norte" and the leader of a movement which had sought independence for Texas, had been crushed by a crack Spanish army.  During that battle, fully 1,800 Texas partisans - a motley bunch of American frontiersmen, descendants of Tejanos and Indians - fell near the Medina River.  A member of the Spanish officer corps at the battle was a nineteen-year-old lieutenant named Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna.  The military engagement came to be known as the Battle of the Medina and represented a temporary setback in the inevitable advance toward independence, which would be realized twenty-three years later, in 1836.

After an uneventful overnight stop in Corpus Christi, we continued southward toward our next destination, Brownsville.  What made an impression was  the temperature hovering around 80. Once again, my mind wandered, this time to March of 1846, when General Zachary "Old Rough and Ready" Taylor, following the orders of President James K. Polk, crossed the Nueces River and made for the Rio Grande to press for that River being the southern boundary of Texas, which had finally been admitted to the Union in 1845.  Thus was the conflict known as the Mexican-American War initiated; however, I was more engrossed in pondering how American forces, clothed in heavy woolen uniforms, would have held up over a march of 160 miles to the Rio Grande in humid, 80-degree weather.

The long stretch of highway south of Sarita must have lulled me into an extended nap, as I have no memory at all of our having passed through the inhospitable surroundings that typify that great expanse of south Texas known as the King Ranch.  The next thing I knew my father was driving into Brownsville.  

Brownsville in 1954 was a far different place than it has become sixty years later.  At that time, it stood out as a pleasant town of 35,000, with wide, palm-shaded streets and graceful old homes.  I definitely recall that the town had an aura of spotlessness, in direct contrast to the refuse and littler that one encounters on its streets today.  The downtown was a lively place, with attractive shops, movie theatres and elegant hotels.  In any case, Brownsville made a decided impression on me, and that decision figured prominently in my decision, some thirty years later, to make the city my home.

For the next two days, my father and his twelve-year-old son took special delight in the sub-tropical, early January weather.  A drive to Port Isabel on a day marked by blue skies and pleasant breezes was unforgettable.  And we also had a look at South Padre Island.  Definitely, one of my fondest experiences was being able to spend a couple of hours in a motel swimming pool, thinking that my friends back home would be truly envious.

After two days in Brownsville and with Monterrey beckoning as our next destination, we moved on to McAllen, from which we would proceed to Reynosa and the Republic of Mexico.  As we neared the bridge and the crossing point into Mexico, I felt a surge of excitement, something quite unknown from anything I had previously experienced.  Somehow I must have known that Mexico would enthrall me.  And, despite travels which have taken me throughout the world since that time in 1954, the fascination has persisted and, with it, a long-running attempt to comprehend the vast cultural differences that have marked the often trouble history between the United States and Mexico.

A LONG-LIVED FASCINATION WITH MEXICO: A MEMOIR

PREFACE

It was the year in which I was rapidly moving from eleven to twelve years of age. Mrs.Corbett, my sixth-grade teacher, was astonished when I emerged victorious in our elementary school's sixth-grade history bee.  My success meant that I was eligible to compete in a city-wide radio history contest, which would pit me against the sixth-grade winners from five other elementary schools.  The prospect of being on Poplar Bluff's only radio station at the time made for even more anticipation on my part.

Mrs. Corbett was eager for a win for Kinyon Elementary School.  Her enthusiasm, in fact, exceeded my own; and, consequently, she sequestered me for the next several weeks to pour over history books in Kinyon's small library, while my classmates continued to labor on in math, science and English.  As I much preferred history to other subjects, my isolation in the library was not an unwelcome development.

Finally, the day of reckoning arrived.  I nervously presented myself, along with five other sixth-grade winners, in the studios of radio station KWOC.  To my history-saturated mind, the preliminary questions fired at us by announcer and moderator Jerry Higley seemed fairly undemanding, and my nerves quickly settled down.

Midway in the hour-long contest, however, the complexity of the questions began to increase.  My heart sank when I saw a girl from Mark Twain Elementary, whom I thought was one of the brightest contestants, bow out on a question concerning John Quincy Adams' drafting of the Monroe Doctrine.  Immediately following her departure, I was queried about President Theodore Roosevelt's role in the building of the Panama Canal and somehow uttered the correct answer.  At that point, I began to sense the possibility of going the distance.

At the five-minute mark, it had come down to the representative of the sixth-graders of Williamson-Kennedy Elementary School and myself.  Finally, as onlookers and the radio audience were caught up in the tenseness of the moment, the entire contest hinged on the person of John Rolfe and the cultivation of tobacco.  My adversary drew a blank.  There it was.  The championship was mine for the taking.

Happily, from a trip into Arkansas, I recalled one of my father's employees there pulling from his shirt pocket a pack of cigarettes which carried the John Rolfe label.  And that was all I needed to come up with the prize-winning answer.  I had won and, in doing so, had fulfilled Mrs. Corbett's hope for a victory for good old Kinyon Elementary School!

With no little parental pride, my father came to the conclusion that I should be rewarded with a family trip that would expose me to various and sundry historical sites.  Since our family's American origins lay in Virginia, he suggested a trek to the East Coast, with stopovers at Williamsburg and Richmond, as well as visits to battlefields which had been frequented by our Confederate ancestors.  However, because during the previous summer a good friend's cousin from Texas had been visiting Poplar Bluff and could not desist from constantly extolling the praises of Travis, Bowie, Crockett, the Alamo and innumerable Texas Rangers, I interjected that perhaps we should travel instead to Texas and also see a bit of Mexico.  My father acquiesced, and we began making plans to make tracks for the Lone Star State and the Republic of Mexico during my next Christmas vacation.  Little did I know then that our trip would permanently alter my view of the world and of history in general.

YES, VIRGINIA, THERE IS SUCH A THING AS SHARIAH LAW!

The Johnnies-come-lately in Hollywood have apparently just recently come to the realization that there is something called Shariah law;  hence, their attention grabbing demonstrations against the Sultan of Brunei and his comfy little hotel in California.

Certainly, attention directed against the ruling family in oil-rich Brunei is fully warranted, for the group of hypocritical  libertines who rule there is known for personally contravening  many of the rigid Islamic strictures prescribed by Shariah Law for the Muslim faithful, while forcing its authoritarianism on the common folk.  But, hey, let's don't stop with the playboy sultan and his Hollywood hostelry!  There are much bigger fish to fry, and many of them have dug deep burrows in the American economy.

Prince Waleed bin-Talal from the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, for example, is a high-roller of some renown, and his stakes in the United States are worth billions.  Yet, he represents a nation where the Koran is the constitution and Shariah is the code of law.  Maybe Prince Wally is worth a demonstration or two as well.

Having lived under Shariah law in Saudi Arabia for more than six years, I am more than a little familiar with its provisions.  Those of what formerly would have been considered of unorthodox sexual proclivities are officially subject to the death penalty.  Adultery is punishable by death, and apostates under Shariah may also experience the ultimate punishment.  Blaspheming Islam may result in severe lashing, as may indulging in the consumption of alcoholic beverages. For those Americans still believing in the pablum that Islam is just another "religion of peace," I dare them to try to find a church or synagogue functioning in a country with a Shariah-based law code.

Unfortunately, too many Americans have been nurtured with myths about Islam.  And many are so intellectually lazy that most knowledge outside their popular-culture-drenched lives totally escapes them.  Incredibly, too many souls still believe that Ben-Ghazi is a mafioso.

At last count, there were about 9 million Muslims residing in the United States.  I often ask myself how many of those when they first reached the shores of America kissed the ground and shouted,"Thank Allah, we have finally arrived in the land of separation of powers and the First Amendment!"  Not many, I would presume.  No, their numbers indubitably include excessive numbers who dream of a Shariah paradise and who have no appreciation for our Constitution.

When living in Saudi Arabia, I had no idea of asserting my own American values emphasizing freedom of expression and religion.  I tried to be a model expatriate, respecting as best I could the prevailing culture. As a Christian, I worshiped secretly with others so as not to openly offend Islam By the same token, as an American, I expect those coming to my country to honor its founding principles. 

Hopefully, those Hollywood hustlers who have finally discovered something called Shariah will continue to let the word go out that Shariah law is violently opposed to American values!  Don't you think it's about time?

Deo Vindice!

God bless America and Texas!

SOUTH TEXAS POVERTY & SOUTH TEXAS POLITICS: A SORDID STORY OF DECEPTION & ABUSE

The town where I live seems to take pride in billing itself as America's poorest city.  Indeed, if one is looking for poverty, it is here.  With 45% of the population living under the poverty line and more than 46% of children reckoned to be poverty stricken, this is a very poor place.

Government programs are big business here.  More than 36% of residents are recipients of food stamps and Medicaid.  The average income for a man runs around $21,000 per annum, while females do somewhat worse at $17,000.

For generations, this has been a one-party town, with the party of hand-outs dominating the courthouse and city/county politics.  How many times the word has gone out from the party bosses that voting the other way will mean drastic cuts in benefits is hard to say.  But, nevertheless, it is a time-proven and effective political strategy that works well with the under-educated and unsophisticated populace of south Texas.

During my almost a quarter century of having a home in south Texas, the same old political cabals have called for more and more public expenditures to mitigate the plight of the "pobrecitos." The predicament of the poor, however, seems never to be alleviated, while the advantage of what is in effect a veritable poverty industry, as always, goes to the established political machine and its various factions.

Meanwhile, the one-party conglomerate  continues to mire itself more deeply in corruption, and the list of indicted and convicted attorneys, judges, commissioners and politicos continues to grow.  The conviction and sentencing of the local district attorney for racketeering, for example,  is a blot which will take a time span of significant proportions to erase.

Local elections do well to attract 15% of registered voters, too many of whom are only too eager to sell their votes cheaply, in some instances for a platter of barbecued chicken and a beer.  Lately, federal law enforcement agents and Texas Rangers have been taking a closer look at the shenanigans at south Texas polling places.  Whether their efforts will appreciably change the regional  political complexion remains to be seen.

In many ways, the local culture is reminiscent of what one encounters south of the border, with the "ricos" doing quite well, while the "pobrecitos" amble along as they habitually have, with the difference being that the poor on this side of the river become more and more inured in a culture of welfare, victimhood and deprivation. In the interim, the politicians and decision-makers on local governing councils more often than not decide to swindle the taxpayers and treat themselves to the spoils of office.

The folly of one-party politics is plain to see. Not only does such a system bring bring on blight and the squandering of human resources, it invariably leads to the cheapening and debilitation of the wider body politic, which, in turn, is victimized by irresponsibility and spreading ignorance.  For certain, Detroit is not the sole example of governance by one party over generations, for that city's example is in the process of being replicated not only in south Texas but, I am sure, in too many other areas as well.

Deo Vindice!

May God bless Texas!

IS IT POSSIBLE FOR CONGRESS TO PLUNGE ANY LOWER?

In a time when the approval ratings for Congress have hit rock bottom and when the executive branch of government has presumed to take over the function of law-making, last night's Senate bull-session on global warming is the most extreme example of an ineffective institution fiddling while Rome burns.

Despite a still-floundering economy, an international crisis in the Ukraine, a Middle East policy in tatters, abundant evidence of nefarious deeds in the IRS to punish recalcitrant conservatives, an ill-conceived national health plan that promises to further bankrupt the country and former allies scampering to find security in new alliances, the U.S. Senate chose to devote an all-night session to prattle and blather about global warming.

To say that the ridiculous has met the vacuous and that they have combined to hold sway in the Senate is an understatement.  A cursory examination of global temperatures over the last 12 years reveals that they have held steady and even declined.  To maintain that global warming is a scientific concept immune to challenge is to beg the question, for in many respects the conclusion of the "warmers" appears to be more like a premise masquerading as a conclusion.  But, be that as it may, any effort to resurrect and pass Cap and Trade or any other such legislation would have little to no effect on CO2 and CFC emissions and the stratospheric ozone layer, as China, India and other emerging industrial powers will, come what may, continue to produce emissions of enormous proportions. This is not to say that Americans should not strive for a clean environment on the home front, but to harness our own economy to the doubtful dogma of global warming would be folly in the extreme.

And so the irresponsibility of Congress persists.  With a weak and toxic chief executive leading the charge, the ineffectual solons of the Senate choose to muddle along, further obscuring salient issues with more and more pablum for the masses.  May we soon awaken from this languishing nightmare of 5 years.

Deo Vindice!

May God bless Texas, and may the Lone Star State remain forever red!

THE UKRAINE: THE "B" TEAM AMATEURS ARE AT IT AGAIN

I once had a friend who was a journalist for Magyar TV (Hungarian TV) who was based in New York.  My friend was appalled by the amount of ignorance she encountered on the part of Americans concerning knowledge of the rest of the world.  To prove her point, she took to the streets of New York City with a camera man and interviewed passersby.  "Have you heard of Budapest?" she would ask.  Most had not.  In fact, most had not even heard of Hungary.

When citizens are uninformed, it is not surprising the type of leadership they place in power.  And, certainly, our present government must take the cake for boneheads and bloopers affecting foreign policy and how to proceed in a world in which challenges from egomaniacal power-seekers are commonplace.

The latest case in point, obviously, is the Ukraine. Once again, those who make our foreign policy have demonstrated that they lack essential knowledge and the tools to anticipate and respond proactively. A cursory examination of a map of eastern Europe reveals the strategic value of the Ukraine for Russia.  Keep in mind, too, that the Russian Federation under Vladimir Putin has embarked on a course of elevating itself by way of marketing its vast natural resources, including oil, natural gas and metals.  With western Europe showing itself to be more and more unable to do without Russian resources, the likelihood of any challenge from that quarter to Russian power moves would be unlikely. And, once again, the hapless folks who are charged with national security and foreign policy in Washington appear dismally unprepared for what is now taking place around the Ukraine and especially in the Crimean Peninsula.

 Russian territory between the Ukraine and central Asia is limited in size, and through this geography must pass major amounts of oil and gas.  Furthermore, the territory is key to Russian leverage in the Caucasus.  Looked at in this manner, that Russia would want to exercise influence in the Ukraine is nothing short of conspicuous.

Further strengthening Russian resolve  to act with authority and force in the region has been the American encouragement of former Soviet Union satellite nations to join NATO, thus depriving Russia of the buffer across the east European plain that these countries once provided. In addition, a recent American presence in Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan and Tajikistan has no doubt reawakened old Russian fears of American meddling in its backyard.  Also, the 21st century invasions of Georgia were precipitated by fears that American advisers were facilitating the passage of arms into Chechnya, a region which is absolutely linked to Russian notions of security.

In 1994, the Ukraine, Russia, the United States and Britain signed an agreement guaranteeing the territorial integrity of the Ukraine. In return, the Ukraine agreed to give up nuclear weapons.  But, now, with a recent history of 20 years of tactical moves from the West in the region, Russia may well feel constrained to restrict its recognition of the validity of that agreement, hence the hard line on the Ukraine.

And now, with a timid and weak president whose advisers on geopolitical matters are severely lacking in knowledge and experience, we find the U.S. once again in a position which will cause its friends and allies to question its commitment and resolve.  Somehow, I cannot help but think that the crisis at hand could have been anticipated and even avoided by having the right people at the helm in Washington.

Deo Vindice!

May God bless Texas and may the Lone Star State remain forever red!

U.S. GOVERNMENT'S WAR ON CHRISTIANS PICKS UP STEAM WITH SUCCESSFUL DOJ EFFORTS AGAINST ROMEIKE FAMILY

THE ROMEIKE FAMILY

My earliest ancestor to set foot on the shores of North America found his way to Virginia, fleeing Puritan excesses in England.  Like many Americans whose families fled to America seeking religious freedom, I have never doubted that my country should be a beacon of hope for those whose religious beliefs have caused them to experience discrimination in their countries of origin. Now, though, it has become crystal clear that any assumptions of this sort are no longer appropriate.

Germany does not permit youngsters to be home-schooled by their families.  In fact, families in Germany home-schooling their children run the risk of having their children taken away by the state.  For a minority of Christian families tutoring their children at home, German law has been a type of state-sanctioned persecution.

In 2008, the Romeikes, a German Christian family seeking an environment in which they could teach their children at home, were admitted to the United States.  However, with the advent of a new administration in 2009, their immigration status underwent a dramatic change.  Henceforth, the Romeikes would be hounded by the now inappropriately called Department of Justice, which sought to revoke the Romeike family's refugee status and to eventually return them to Germany.  Unfortunately, the Romeikes recently lost their appeal against the DOJ's action, and now face deportation.

This is a story that you will likely not encounter in most major media outlets, which now are in lockstep with a pagan culture and a government bent on uprooting traditional American values. With Christians facing persecution on a broad front throughout the world, it is outlandish that the Romeike family will now be forced out of a country that had once welcomed the persecuted of many stripes and persuasions.

Even more bizarre is the fact that refugee status is badly abused under present immigration law.  No doubt, had the Romeikes been Muslims seeking to immigrate from the Southern Hemisphere, their fate would have been quite different.  

The Romeike story augurs declining respect for people of faith.  For many Christians, the future looks bleak.  Nevertheless, it should be remembered that Christianity has a history of thriving in cultures of persecution and discrimination in which those of great conviction have risked life, limb and personal liberty in rising to the challenge.

Deo Vindice!

God bless Texas, and may the Lone Star State remain forever red!

THE PATHETIC POSTURING OF THE UAW

Because of professional and occupational reasons, I was a member of a union on two occasions.  In both cases, the experience was totally unsatisfactory, as I derived virtually no benefits from my dues, while the union leadership appeared to prosper at the expense of the membership.

The track record of the United Auto Workers is not one to be especially admired.  Its involvement in the manufacturing process has inevitably led to shoddy products and a work force not noted for living up to its potential.  All things considered, the halcyon days of the 1970's are probably not destined to return for the UAW.  Any comparison of the union's membership rolls of 40 years ago with today's rosters would likely indicate that the organization is in a death spiral.

The recent vote of workers at the Chattanooga Volkswagen plant was seen as being indispensable for the UAW continuing as a viable force.  Inroads into Southern auto manufacturing plants would, it was hoped,  bring a needed infusion of funds to further the union leadership's aspirations for a return to collective bargaining dominance.  However, despite having free rein to campaign for 2 years inside the plant, the Chattanooga Volkswagen work force handily rejected union overtures.

With an average hourly wage in the neighborhood of $27.00 an hour and generous benefits to boot, Volkswagen's workers in Chattanooga no doubt consider themselves fortunate during a time of a lagging economic recovery in the U.S.  To subsidize the UAW with annual dues amounting to approximately $600 a year per worker would seem not to be a wise investment, and especially so when one considers the condescending tendency of the union's leadership to willy nilly dole out large-scale political contributions to the Democratic Party.

Grasping at straws, the union leadership has been frantically digging for excuses for
its failed VW vote, the most egregious of which has been to let out shrieks of "racism, racism!" as if somehow a Southern venue would automatically confer a strong dose of prejudice and discrimination that would adulterate a vote on unionization.

Unions have been declining for years.  It has only been with the present politics of cronyism and fraudulence that they have been able to throw around their weight in a manner not equivalent to their numbers.  In reality, the UAW and its ilk are on a downhill run to eventual extinction.  If this country is to resurrect a strong and vibrant economy, it will be without the negative influence of antediluvian relics such as the UAW.  The auto workers in Chattanooga appear to be very much aware of this.  After all, Detroit remains a frightening example of what Democrats and unions can accomplish

Deo Vindice!

God bless Texas, and may the Lone Star State remain forever red!

IS AMERICA BEING WELL SERVED BY THE "TRUTH"?

"Half the truth is often a great lie."
                         Benjamin Franklin

Sardonically christened "Pravda," or "Truth," the Communist Party mouthpiece is still functioning today in the Russian Federation.  Whether or not it has a better handle on truth is hard to say, but current events  are such to make one sometimes wonder if Pravda-like truth is now being served up in the U.S.A.

Just last week the current ratings for the World Free Press Index were announced.  Of the 177 countries included in the 2014 index, Finland, the Netherlands and Norway led the pack. From 2013, the U.S. had fallen 14 spaces to 46th, just behind former communist hellhole Romania.

What, for goodness sakes, is going on here?  Granted that a good bit of our government has gone bonkers over revelations concerning the NSA and other various and sundry leaks; but, for what purportedly is the most free society on earth to finish behind Romania is preposterous.  Could it be that all the emphasis on politically correct communication is finally chipping away at the 1st Amendment?

It was once assumed that a free press was a major American bulwark against political tyranny; but, now, schools of journalism seem more intent on turning out automatons who are willing to go along to get along. And, as for those who step out of line, there are very real possibilities of jail time for not complying with judicial ukases to reveal sources and implicate innocent parties.  Then, too, it should not be forgotten that most American newspapers are controlled part and parcel by powerful family and commercial combines, which are all too often willing to hedge on the truth in order to reap financial and political gain.

Another shocker during the last week involved the story of  how Admiral William H. McRaven, who commanded special operations at the time of the attack on the Abbottobad, Pakistan, compound that resulted in the death of Osama bin-Laden, ordered that all photographs having to do with bin-Laden's death should be destroyed. Apparently, Admiral McRaven and his like have all too conveniently forgotten that it is American taxpayers who pay their salaries and, in effect, underwrite all the operations undertaken by the U.S.military.  Surely, the underwriters are worthy of unassailable proof that the maneuver they financed has been carried out as announced.

Yes, Admiral McRaven's order stinks, just as all of the dickering with the truth of Benghazi stinks.  Despite congressional hearings on the tragedy of Benghazi, the powers that be have evidently put out a "stonewall" order that has muffled the truth.  Educated speculation has it, though, that the Department of State has not been forthcoming because the U.S. compound in Benghazi was being used as a staging ground for the procurement and shipment of weapons to Syria rebels, many of whom are aligned with al-Qaeda.   For this to have been divulged during an election year might have proved disastrous for an administration looking forward to a second term.  But, of course, in the brave new world of political correctness, truth must play second fiddle to political considerations.

In a free society, such as the one envisioned by our own American Republic, a free and untrammeled press is a sine qua non of liberty.  By a free press, tendencies of government to be self-perpetuating and overbearing with individual freedoms can, at least theoretically, be reined in.  For government to assume a stance of primacy and deception over those it purports to serve is a travesty of the worst kind.  If we are to survive as a free society, the absolutes of ethical journalistic practice must be reaffirmed and defended.  In the preamble of the Code of Ethics of the Society of Professional Journalists, it is stated:

"....public enlightenment is the forerunner of justice and the foundation of democracy.  The duty of the journalist is to further these ends by seeking truth and providing a fair and comprehensive account of events and issues."

May American journalists rededicate themselves to these principles, and may Americans encourage them in their necessary task.

Deo Vindice!

May God bless Texas, and may the Lone Star State remain forever red!

THE TRANSFORMATION OF AMERICA: DO OUR ENEMIES SENSE WEAKNESS?

In his Escape from Freedom, Erich Fromm refers to a symbiosis between authoritarian leaders and individuals who, owing to their inability to reconcile the challenge of individual freedom to their inability or fear of coping with reality, bond themselves to autocratic personalities  as a mechanism of fleeing from accountability.  To say that this process has been a factor in recent U.S. political history is to affirm a certainty.

The last five years in America have been dominated by a determination to effect a radical transformation of society.  The primary vehicles chosen for this metamorphosis have turned out to be the oddly named Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act (ACA) and a full-court press to stir up the enmity of class warfare through the issue of income inequality.  Sadly, too  many of our fellow Americans, unwilling to function to any appreciable degree of autonomy, have willingly surrendered their futures to what they assume is a benevolent central government.

Nevertheless, there are signs that there is finally realization dawning that these developments have not been to the advantage of the nation.  The incompetence of an administration inextricably wed to a hackneyed and stale ideology of statism has been laid bare for all to see.  And, with each day, there is further evidence that domestic failures have complemented an accompanying diminution of America's capacity and energy to execute an effective foreign policy.  

John Bolton, former ambassador of the United States to the U.N., has stated forcefully that, since 2009, American policy has been sacrificed to domestic policy, despite the irony of a multitude of errors and miscalculations on the home front that have branded the present administration as one of the weakest and incompetent in American history.

In taking stock of America, our enemies are undoubtedly rejoicing at the rudderless direction the country has taken and the uncommonly divided state of our body politic.  For all practical purposes, we are now in the hands of a lawless executive branch.  Congress has forfeited its charge to make the laws to the executive branch, a prime example being the 27 changes arbitrarily made by the executive to the ACA.  Furthermore, the president's flamboyant threat to rule with "a pen and a phone" only serves to undermine the American Republic and to take us further down the path of disunity.  The ineptitude and arrogance now shown in the White House is not worthy of a great country.  Rather, this is the type of behavior that one would expect of tyrannical figures holding forth in a Third World setting in the Southern Hemisphere.

And, as for any sort of grand strategy for enhancing stability in the world, there is absolutely no indication that there is or ever has been such a strategy during the last 5 years.  Wherever we turn, there are signs of tattering alliances.  Erstwhile friends and allies are scrambling to reevaluate their relationships with America and are seeking more reliable partners.  In the Middle East, statements about drawing nonexistent "red lines" have not only been an embarrassment but have also shown that ill-advised words have a way of revealing the weakness behind bravado.  And, to further underline how unimportant security for America is to this president, the recent proclamation that those with "limited terrorist ties" would be allowed entry to America has shown that safety for American citizens palls when it comes to radical transformation.

That Vladimir Putin comes off as a forceful and competent leader in comparison to the current American chief executive is a sad commentary on just how far we have fallen.  And, dear readers, if you think that declining American economic, military and political power has no consequences for you, then think again.  When American power is naught, there will be no one available to pick up the slack, and the world will be a much more dangerous place.  The world is an increasingly complicated place and to fail to act gingerly and with resolve is to abandon the field to those who who would like nothing better than to see America as a debtor country chained to a political and economic system of entitlement, unable to protect its liberties and freedom from the dark forces of repression and tyranny.

Deo Vindice!

God bless Texas, and may the Lone Star State remain forever red!

CONTINUING PERSECUTION FOR EGYPT'S COPTS

Indeed, all who desire to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted.

                       2nd Timothy, 3:12

Despite hopes that attacks on Egypt's Christian Copts would subside in 2014, there are no signs that those hopes will be fulfilled.  At the end of last month, yet another Coptic church was struck, this one being the Church of the Virgin Mary at Gizeh.

In the last half of 2013, fully 70 Coptic churches were attacked, burned or sacked, with corresponding loss of life in the Christian community.  Muslim extremists, taking out their fury over the overthrow of the Muslim Brotherhood government of Mohamed Morsi, went to great lengths in singling out Christians for retribution.

Egyptian Copts account for about 11% of the Egyptian population,or close to 10 million individuals.  Tracing their origins to St. Mark the Evangelist, who was martyred at Alexandria in the 1st century A.D., the Copts have a Christian history of 2-thousand years. Present day Copts are the descendants of Christians who remained true to their faith in the face of the Muslim conquest of Egypt in the 7th century.

Long relegated to the status of dhimmitude, or 2nd class status in Egypt, modern day Copts still face discrimination and persecution on virtually all fronts of Egyptian society.  In many respects, it is virtually impossible for Egypt's Christians to advance into the top tiers of the professions, participate fully in community and political life, receive equal opportunities in employment and to openly profess their faith.

As a result of its perilous position, the Coptic population of Egypt is declining, as Copts choose to leave their homeland for more secure venues.  However, emigration from Egypt cannot be the solution for this religious minority, as it is unimaginable that 10 million people could simply pack up, leave and save their religion on foreign shores. Most Copts, too, are convinced that their claims to an Egyptian homeland supersede equivalent Muslim claims.

Regardless of politically correct propaganda prevailing in America, Christianity in many ways is now experiencing its death throes in the Middle East, as once thriving Christian communities from Lebanon to Syria and the West Bank dwindle to a few thousand.  However, the prevailing attitude among Egyptian Christians seems to be that it would be difficult to call oneself a Copt without living in Egypt.  In any case, the Copts face an uncertain future that would be compounded by the prospect of the Muslim Brotherhood and various Salafist groups assuming power once again.

In the meantime, the lack of knowledge of American Christians of the fate of their Christian brothers and sisters in Egypt must be diminished, and due pressure must be placed on American policy makers to address the oppression and persecution of this sizable religious minority.

Deo Vindice!

May God bless Texas, and may the Lone Star State remain forever red!

POLITICALLY CORRECT MAD HATTER DIPLOMACY AND POLITICALLY INCORRECT CHRISTIAN "MARTYRS"

In a time of increasing violence throughout the world, our pathetic diplomats seem to spend their nonsensical time on such red herrings as championing the notorious Russian rock group "Pussy Riot," which is best known for its invasion of Moscow's Cathedral of the Holy Savior.  While U.N. Ambassador Samantha Power recently praised the group, America's standing in the world continued to plummet, and savagery against innocent parties throughout the world continued unabated.

When questioned by the Mad Hatter as to her view of his sanity and if he had become mad, Alice replied, "I'm afraid so. You're entirely bonkers. But I'll tell you  a secret.  All the best people are."  Accordingly, one can't help but think that all the "best people" in the administration in power in Washington are somewhat bonkers. And the bonkering extends all the way from the top.  When the Mad Hatter expressed to the queen that she had an extraordinarily large head and that he might like to make an effort to hat it, it calls to mind the extraordinarily large head which now calls the politically correct shots that make our foreign policy the world's laughing stock.  How embarrassing it is that now this country's ambassadors are appointed to posts in countries in which they have never set foot, as revealed in recent congressional hearings on the appointment to Argentina, and have little to no background in the host country's language, culture or history.

While much consideration is given to the likes of Pussy Riot and immigration policies are twisted to allow individuals with "limited" terrorist ties to enter America, little to nothing is heard from those who represent us on the international front about the geometrical increase in the persecution and killing of Christians throughout the world.  Over the past year, the numbers of Christians who have been martyred for their faith has at least doubled, to 2,200, while some authorities would place the total much higher, at perhaps 8,000.  We will never hear anyone from the Department of State holding forth on this subject, but it must be remembered that Christians and martyrs are not high on the list of politically correct topics in 21st century America.

Most of the martyrdoms, of course, are the result of the unrestrained brutality of extreme Islam, and we should not be surprised by that.  Despite politically correct goobledygook to the effect that Islam is a religion of peace, the word has not gone out to the thugs doing the persecuting in places like Egypt, Pakistan and Syria.  Looked at historically, these extremists are simply carrying on in the 7th century tradition of spreading the faith by the sword.

At home, meanwhile, the administration continues its efforts to foist elements of its health care program not considered compatible with the faith of Catholics and fundamentalist Christians on believers.  Is there not some sort of dichotomy here?  Is it not surprising that many are beginning to feel as though the  politically correct mindset in Washington has gotten things out of whack?  Just as unrestrained Islamic extremism has caused the deaths of thousands of Christians abroad, so, too, would the perpetrators look forward to like slaughter in the U.S.  Is there not something pathetically wrong with an administration that will not even tell the truth about forces committed to our demise?

Deo Vindice!

May God bless Texas, and may the Lone Star State remain forever red!

IS THIS REALLY AMERICA?

THE ROMEIKE FAMILY

As more and more time passes, it becomes more and more difficult to relate to current developments  in American politics and government.  Supposedly flexibility is the key to understanding, but there are just certain things that tax one's flexibility.

I vividly recall my grandfather, who was a county Democratic office-holder, extolling the virtues of a Democratic Party, which had created a broad coalition across class, racial and income lines.  As a child, I accompanied my grandfather to party rallies and heard more of the same. To say that these experiences had an impact on my young mind would be an understatement.

If I were to return to my grandfather's home county today, I would find no Democrats in the county court house.  And, sadly, I must also say that if my grandfather were alive, he would likely be hard pressed to call himself a Democrat, for the Democratic Party, the longest continuously existing political party in world, is no longer the party my grandfather so loved and admired.

A staple of the political grounding in my family was strong emphasis on freedom of conscience and religion. In fact, my earliest ancestor to reach North America in the 17th century fled the Puritans to practice his Anglicanism in Virginia.  With this sort of background  in my lineage, I find it incredible that my country would turn away and expel evangelical Christians coming to America in order to follow the dictates of their faith.  But this is exactly what is happening with the Romeike family, which had previously been granted asylum in the U.S.

The Romeikes had sought to home school their children in Germany; however, in Germany, home schooling is against the law.  Incredibly, in Germany, parents insisting on home schooling may be deprived of their children by the state. Recently, the administration of our Democratic president has had the asylum status of the Romeikes revoked and has taken steps to deport them.  To call the administration action against the Romeikes astonishing would be to miss the point.  At a time when the asylum process seems intent on admitting assorted Islamists and individuals with terrorist links to the U.S., evangelical and fundamentalist Christians often find themselves demeaned and ridiculed in an increasingly pagan society clearly adrift from its traditional moorings.  So, while the administration turns a blind eye to illegal immigration and bends the asylum law in favor of elements unlikely to meld into American society, to bar the door to the Romeikes is nothing short of appalling.

However, it all begins to fit when one hears of the Democratic governor of New York railing against conservatives, pro-life advocates and defenders of the 2nd Amendment, saying that such individuals are lacking in proper New York values.  Yes, dear readers, it was not so long ago that we would not have imagined that such things would be said or imagined by responsible public servants.  As one who cut his teeth on the principle of academic freedom, I would have considered the prospect of having leaders such as those who now strut and preen on center stage of the Democratic Party laughable.  But history is such that the unimaginable more often than not takes one by surprise.  Nevertheless, one has faith that the abiding strength and goodness of America will weather the storm of the present Democratic Leninist doppelgangers, who give every indication that they wish to impose their own dogma of deceit, dismantling our country to such an extent that it is no longer recognizable.

Deo Vindice!

May God bless Texas, and may the Lone Star State remain forever red!

AIRLINE PRACTICES GROSS DISCRIMINATION AGAINST TALL PEOPLE: DON'T FLY THE CRAMPED AND CROWDED SKIES OF UNITED!

At 6'4" and with a 36" inseam, airline travel has always been a challenge for me.  Nevertheless, 30 or 40 years ago, flying wasn't such an unbearable chore.  I well remember traveling on Delta when the steward or stewardess - the neutered term "flight attendant" was not in vogue at that time - would take one's suit coat on entering the plane and stow it in the closet, cheerily assuring the passenger that it would be brought to one upon landing.  Now, given the cattle-car nature of airline seating, one would have to be addled to even think of flying in a suit and tie.

There was a time, too, when flight crews went out of their way to enhance passenger comfort.  It happened frequently that I was asked if I would like to move to a more comfortable location.  Occasionally, a stewardess would take one look at my long legs and even ask if I would care to be upgraded - at no additional charge - to first class.

For several years I flew Continental's 50-passenger jets from Brownsville to Leon in Mexico.  The Mexican leg from Houston to Leon in Mexico was a decent flight, and it was possible for tall people to sit at the emergency exits without paying a surcharge. Continental made the flights somewhat enjoyable, with box lunches served to all passengers.  But no more!  Since United took over, the flights are cramped, crowded and often staffed by discourteous stewards and stewardesses who are anything but attentive to their passengers' comfort.  On a recent Brownsville to Houston flight I was treated with disdain by perhaps the most rude stewardess encountered over 50 years of flying.

The robber barons who now control United Airlines seek to turn profit at every corner.  If you are tall, suck it up and endure your knees practically sticking up to your ears;  or, you can lay out some extra dollars to gain a few extra inches at the emergency exits.  And don't even think about pretzels or peanuts any more. They departed soon after the box lunches.

United has already decreased leg-room from 33" to 31"  on their 50-passenger jets.  And they are considering means to further decrease the space, in order to squeeze in a few more seats for increased profits.  And so it goes:  airlines charge for whatever they can rationalize and do virtually whatever it takes for a few more bucks.  And passengers get squeezed in more ways than one.

As I write this post, I am lecturing in Mexico's beautiful Bajio region.  I am enjoying my stay; but, at the same time, am more than a little apprehensive over the prospect of my return flight to Texas.  After United had unloaded me at the Leon Airport last Monday it took me all of another day to get myself back on track.  With United Airlines, what once was almost an enjoyable experience with Continental now fills my mind with dread.  The skies of United are no longer so friendly, and their flights have become arduous events to avoid if at all possible.

Deo Vindice!

God bless Texas, and may the Lone Star State remain forever red!

LET US NOT FORGET ASIA BIBI AND THE HEINOUS PERSECUTION OF CHRISTIANS BY ISLAM!

It will soon be going on five years that Asia Bibi has been incarcerated in the Muslim nation of Pakistan, awaiting her fate after having been convicted in a Pakstani court for the crime of "blasphemy."  If you feel that the word blasphemy has an antiquated ring to it, you may not be far off the mark.

It was during 1983, while walking down a street in downtown Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, that it dawned on me that I was living in a 15th century environment.  Indeed, to give the reader an idea as we start off the year 2014, the corresponding date by the Islamic calendar would be the year 1435.  If we compare the Christian world view of 2014 to the Muslim world of 1435, archaic is another word which would likely come to mind.

While doing farm work in 2009, Asia Bibi was set upon by fellow workers, who claimed that she insulted the Prophet Mohamed.  Asia was dragged through the streets of her village by fanatical Muslims and ultimately charged with blasphemy.

The governor of Punjab province in Pakistan took a calculated risk when he spoke out against religious intolerance and opined that Asia should be freed from prison and that the charges against her should be

ASIA'S FAMILY

discarded.  Symptomatic of the Islamic bigotry that prevails in Pakistan, the outspoken governor, Salman Taseer, was assassinated by his own security detail.

Even Pakistan's minority affairs minister, Shabaz Bhatti, was shot down and killed by Muslim thugs determined to silence anyone speaking out for toleration in Pakistan.

In the meantime, Asia Bibi languishes in a squalid prison cell, subject to the barbarities of her Muslim captors.  A mother of 5 under sentence of death, Asia has kept up a strong affirmation of her faith while proclaiming that in no way did she blaspheme Mohamed.  Her family, which had frequently visited her, has now reportedly gone into hiding.  In prison, Asia has been assaulted by the police and is very much aware that other Christians  imprisoned for their beliefs in Pakistan have mysteriously died.

Christians in Pakistan, as is true for Christians in other Muslim countries, are openly discriminated against, denied decent employment opportunities and risk death for merely worshiping together.  Muslim clerics in Pakistan frequently place bounties on the heads of Christians who, for one reason or another, are considered to have disrespected Islam.

During 2013, more than 2,200 Christians were martyred, most of them at the hands of Muslim persecutors.  The persecution continues throughout the world, and Christians continue to suffer on many fronts.  Despite that, our own government continues in actively supporting authoritarian Muslim regimes.  Pakistan, for example, received more than 1.6 billion in aid during 2013 from the U.S., most of it in the form of military aid.  U.S. Christians should be asking just how much of that sum is going to support the persecution of their coreligionists.

Asia Bibi is a symbol of Christian fortitude and devotion, and we must nor forget her.  The least we can do is continue to call her plight to the attention of our own government and to bring pressure on the renegade Muslim government of Pakistan.

The email address of the Pakistani embassy in Washington is:  info@embassyofpakistanusa.org

Let us pray for Asia!

Deo Vindice!

God bless Texas and may the Lone Star State remain forever red!

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OF COURSE, IT MUST BE TRUE, JEWISH HISTORY AND THE NATION OF ISRAEL ONLY BEGAN IN THE MID-TWENTIETH CENTURY!

The widespread ignorance of history is appalling; but, even more deplorable, are efforts to rewrite history in pursuit of political goals, seeking to prey upon that ignorance

A prime example of such endeavors occurred last week, when the Arab League threw its considerable weight around to  suppress a UNESCO-sanctioned exhibit in Los Angeles.  The display, "People, Book, Land - The 3,500 Year Relationship of the Jewish People and the Land of Israel,"  was set to open tomorrow, January 20.  The Simon Wiesenthal Center in Los Angeles partnered with UNESCO to make the event possible. Israel, Canada and Montenegro had signed on as co-sponsors.  However, at the last minute, the Arab League used its influence in the U.N. to nix the exhibit, loudly proclaiming that it was a travesty of history.

That the Jewish exodus from Egypt began in the 14th century B.C. is usually not contested by sane people. Running on through history, the long-running process of the diaspora is generally viewed as beginning with the Babylonian Captivity in the 6th century B.C. , with the Jewish people being dispersed throughout the Middle East, Judea and Babylon.  By 63 B.C., Israel had become a Roman protectorate.  The revolt against Rome in 66 A.D. resulted in the destruction of Jerusalem. which eventually led to the Emperor Hadrian declaring Israel to be part of "Syria-Palestine" in 135 A.D..

Despite the diaspora, there continued to be a Jewish presence from the time of the Crusader states, running through centuries of Turkish rule, which ended with the First World War, when the Jewish population amounted to approximately 100,000.  The Jewish population was augmented during the British mandate (1917 - 1947) and after World War II, when Jewish refugees arrived from Europe and other war-torn areas of the world.  By 1947, the United Nations had given its approval to the nation of Israel, which was recognized by the U.S. in 1948.  Thus, to deny a Jewish presence in the area which comprises the nation of Israel in 2014 for a space of 3,500 years is nothing short of unhistorical.

The revision of history for political purposes is nothing new.  Not only have crank historians sought to deny the Jewish Holocaust, similar efforts, with the sanction of law, have been undertaken to blot from memory the slaughter of Christian Armenians in Turkey.  In Turkey, journalists and historians who have sought to raise the national consciousness of the Armenian holocaust  have fallen upon Turkish law, which bans any public mention of officially carried out atrocities against Armenians as an "insult against Turkishness."

Efforts to falsify history were well known in the former Soviet Union; and, today, Muslim nations such as Pakistan go all out to "Islamify" history while reviling perceived enemies such as India.  And even in 21st century France, official history is not without an effort to put a positive spin on French colonialism.

It goes without saying that George Orwell had it right:  "The most effective way to destroy people is to deny and obliterate their own understanding of their history."  Given the authoritarian nature of the regimes making up the Arab League, I am not surprised that this group would seek to quash any attempt of expression contrary to their official line.  What is surprising, though, is that there has been nary a peep of official disgust from our own government in the U.S.  Servants of Clio must redouble their efforts in serving their mistress.

Deo Vindice!

May God less Texas, and may the Lone Star State remain forever red!