he who is known as sefton

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Location: Susquehanna Depot, Pennsylvania, United States

Well, if you got here via the bi-chromatic Universe and "Dez", thanks. Their being available means they can be rented out, so to say, to vendors. For example, they'd be great in promoting pastries. Kids love cookies, so do adults. As for that ascending numeral three, it came about by way of ignorance. More than once, I'd see that same numeral with wings or a halo or both even on this or that pickup truck. And, dumb me, I'd think they were like golden horse shoes or four-leaf clovers ... good luck charms. It wasn't until later, I found out those threes are meant to commemorate one posthumously charismatic NASCAR driver. To inspire all those signs of grief, that guy might've had the makings for ... well, that's likely better left to the intuition of NASCAR votaries.

Tuesday, December 27, 2005

scratch a muslim, find ==>

==> a christian. It happened, as if Allah the Compassionate, praise be upon Who Is Who Is, had turned insidious. A bizarre trick was played on all the Muslims in the world.

Our heart went from Muslim to Christian. Wherein the heart enters, the soul follows. Wherein the soul enters, the mind follows. We are bereft of our Islamic strength.

In obedience, subtle and unquestioning and innocent, to their Jewish Messiah, the West came after us. Oh, the West tried mightily with Christmas carols and bloodshed. Praise Allah, all that was in vain. The West failed utterly and miserably. We remained true to Islam. Our heart remained Muslim. And then, it happened.

In submission, subtle and unwitting, we welcomed, with open arms, the body snatchers.

Yeah, sure, we're still Muslim, outwardly. We still comport ourselves as good little Muslims. Here are some examples.

No, we do not cozen our children into being good with fairy tales about Santa Claus.

No, we do not dye and decorate hard boiled eggs, and then then plant them, where children may easily find them.

No, we do not sing Christmas carols during midnight church service.

Yes, we still recite the Koran in our mosque.

Yes, we still face towards Mecca, as we kneel on our prayer rug.

Yes, we still make our pilgrimage to that holy city.

Oh, Mecca, now, how (?) holy art thou truly. Well within thy precinct, here and there, by way of metaphor, McDonald's has pitched a tent. And this disturbs our siblings, who are drawn deep into the romance of Islam. These are the innocent, whom the Faith enthralls with the solitude of the desert, the triumphant roar of a distant lion, and the poignant vision of a redoubtable warrior. Islam presupposes men ... real men.

Does a real man scomp Big Macs?

What are we to tolerate? If we live in Scranton, we are permitted Big Macs. Suppose, we live, instead, in Mecca. Should we then regard McDonald's as being compatible with the romance of Islam ... as being compatible with the ambiance of a holy city, where the Prophet smashed idols, thereby winning hearts and minds. It goes without saying it's only good business practice to serve only Big Macs, which are in compliance with strict Islamic dietary ordinance.

Predictions that come to pass are prophecy. Predictions that fail to come to pass are metaphor.

In the attempt, subtle and innocent, to save Islam from blowing off a once-in-a-millennium opportunity, a scandalous old man made a prediction in a novel, whose copies were burned by an American agency for cause of obscenity.

"'Just as there are mosques and synagogues in Rome, mosques and churches in Jerusalem, soon there will be churches and synagogues in Mecca'." [quoted quote found somewhere in STEPPING STONES].

McDonald's is now in Mecca. How soon will we, poor banished children of Eve ... how soon will we, descendants of Abraham's cast-out Egyptian concubine, witness and dutifully record the ribbon-cutting ceremony for the first-- oh, never mind!

Yes, there's no doubt about it. If all that were in the West's arsenal were only Christmas carols and butchery, we would still remain in our heart true to Islam. Our heart would still remain Muslim. Wherein the heart enters, the soul follows. Wherein the soul enters, the mind follows.

In his DECLINE OF THE WEST, a certain Oswald Spengler is besotted with exaggerated rumors of the West's demise.

In the Jewish Old Testament, a prophet rails against vanity.

Oh, how insidious a poison it is!

Just as the world requires rogues, so does medicine require poisons.

Such dire medicines, such potent drugs, have been concocted by the West. Never before, has the world seen their like. Where were the recipes for the required antidotes? What were the ingredients we were supposed to gather and cook?

Where Christmas carols and full metal jackets failed, the West's conquest came by way of ballots and satellite television and Viagra. Yes, you read it right the first time. VIAGRA.

O yeah, sure, we're still good little Muslims, outwardly. In our heart, we are now Christian. Scratch a Muslim, find a Christian ... even worse, much worse, find a Christian American.

Oh, yes, it would be remiss to omit mentioning the crux of this lament. Here's what we had better understand, albeit maybe without completely comprehending. Even when the Americans are wrong ... horribly mistaken even, nevertheless, they still win.

Perhaps, we should take consolation from a fact one may well consider insignificant. The Americans, also known as "yankees", paid dear for that victory. Praise Allah, the price exacted, even today, continues to be macabre.


aaaay, c'mon, whyz.ache.err, what the hell should'ja (?) expect from a wild-eyed iconoclast cum "this laptop for hire"!

ah, come a little closer to the monitor screen, ever so discreetly, make sure nobody's looking over your shoulder. This is just among you and me and the monitor screen.

There are times I wish to God Almighty I had never encountered Avram Beilitzsyn. Here I am a retired bachelor, a geezer infatuated with-- ahnghgh, nun'ah yer beezwax! I'm up to my ears in credit card debt.

Even worse, like Avram, I'm even delving into an extreme case. Time and time again, he would intone that much can be learned from an extreme case, provided the heart is ready.

Here's how this case came to my attention. When the explosives, which were crammed into an automobile, were detonated by suicide bomber, some one hundred and twenty Iraqis were killed outright, with a score or more of others wounded. The perpetrator, who caused and died in the explosion, was a Jordanian national.

Allegedly, his family back in Jordan honored his "martyrdom" with a celebration. In a diplomatic dispatch to the Jordanian monarchy, the Iraqi government, such as it was at the time, made it perfectly that the latter was angered by the carnage, and furthermore, regarded as an affront the subsequent celebration.

Okay, here's where we delve in search for the crux of the matter. The perpetrator spent several years, living and working in the United States of America. According to several witnesses, whom he had befriended in America, he enjoyed "looking at the ladies".

I think it's reasonable to conjecture that the young man in question was doing more than simply looking. Taking that conjecture just a bit further, one may easily surmise that, as best and as intensely his modest means allowed, he pursued the so-called PLAYBOY lifestyle.

Here, I feel I should try my hand at intimating the import of that immediately preceding sentence. Truth be told, I'm taking a little time and space to be of service to the innocents in the readership.

PLAYBOY, the magazine, is justifiably noteworthy for its "centerfold" graphic, wherein a "virginal" comely late-blooming young woman is posed in her birthday suit.

Back to the Jordanian suicide bomber, his story gets a little more interesting. For whatever reason, he exited U.S territory to spend some time in the Middle East. When he tried to return to the States, he was denied entry by some suspicious immigration official. Now, we leap to what I'm surmising.

Denied entry into where he could pursue the PLAYBOY lifestyle, the future suicidal bomber fell into despair. He had been denied his heart's desire. Wherein the heart enters, the soul follows. Wherein the soul enters, the mind follows. In this case, the mind decided on retaliation through "martyrdom".

Bottom line, he was, in his heart, no longer, Muslim. Rather he was American. In as much as the country that spurned him is Christian, in his heart, he died a Christian American.

O yeah, almost forgot. Around Christmas of 2005, some Palestinian militants, notorious for sponsoring similar martyrs and also known as "bedbugs", occupied the Bethlehem municipal building. Before teevee cameras of local media, some spokesman in a mask informed the public what the hullabaloo was all about.

Now then, were they demanding new and improved (?) exploding vests for punishing Israeli occupiers by glorious suicidal "martyrdom"! Ny'ah, they were demanding jobs, employment with weekly deposit in their checking account.

Sort of ironical, is it not? That mob and others like it coaxed scores of devout Muslims to try buying an express ticket to Paradise, using as currency "martyrdom" by suicide vest or automobiles, crammed with explosives.

... o yeah, whyz.ache.err, ya'gotta admit, job seekers aren't exactly martyr material, despite their calling their mob some sort of martyrs' brigade.

One might suppose that, as currency, "martyrdom" is great for express tickets to Paradise. When it comes to paying for a falafel snack, the average street vendor prefers and accepts only what can be deposited in the local bank.


.he who is known as sefton


oh, yeah, here's something for would-be "martyrs" to chew on. Take the aforementioned "martyr", who killed some one hundred and twenty (120) of his sibling Muslims. He was no martyr to Islam. In his heart, he was a martyr to PLAYBOY.


Somebody had better alert the Palestinian negotiators about a "lead-pipe cinch" consequece of the entrance of Hamas into their government. This is what those negotiators are going to hear, when they meet with their Israeli counterparts, "We owe you nothing."

And one more thing . . . the man who poisoned Islam was American President John Fitzgerald Kennedy . . . funny thing, when he challenged his county men to put an American on the moon before the end of the 60s' decade, he probably thought he was only giving his fellow Americans a "pep talk" . . . likely enough, good ol'J.F.K thought the project was more impossible dream than possibility . . . but ayyy, he figured his fellow Americans needed a dream of some sort.

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Saturday, December 10, 2005

the supremes ... GODLESS COMMIES?!

The Supremes I have in mind have nothing to do with the Motown sound or young African American female vocal groups. Likely enough, what their former lead chanteuse, Diana Ross, knows about Marxism can be carved in granite, and then shoved up a flea's ... nose, comfortably.
By now, it's gotta be obvious that I mean the justices, who together constitute the Supreme Court of the United States.

It's rather ironical. For about five generations, the Communist Party U.S.A has labored mightily to bring about their so-called "workers' paradise". So far, the end result of all their labor and suffering has been "goose egg".

And then it happened ... like a bolt out of the blue. The capitalism those "godless commies" have for so long tried to demolish has been injected with slow but sure poison.

Our Supreme Court has opened the way to communist governance. Talk about the People's Republic of Santa Monica!

Ruling five-to-four, the Court did it with a decision that, at first glance, could be, in a certain light, considered reasonable. After all, reasonable people have been known to disagree.

In my considered opinion, a principle is worth only what has been sacrificed in its defense. A principle is obviated, once and for all, the moment the capacity for its defense is suspended to benefit a special interest at the expense of the general welfare, both current and future.

. . . yeah, that last sentence is elongated . . . maybe, the average reader should considered reading it a second time, or even a third time.

In the instance that adumbrates an eventual Marxist America, the obviated principle in question was enshrined in the Fifth Amendment. According to alleged "strict constructionists", it prohibits the taking of property by government, except for "public use". In this instance, the five-to-four ruling I have in mind deals with eminent domain.

Here's how eminent domain works. Whatever government that has jurisdiction over somebody's private property may seize that property, by paying whoever owns it the "fair market" value, and then convey it over to public use.

Here's an example. A city government may seize an empty lot, by paying its owner "fair market" value, and then have a public hospital built on that lot. So far, such a seizure is hardly likely to ignite controversy.Here's how our Supreme Court has set us trudging along "the road to serfdom".

My five doughnuts to somebody's three that the guy, who is being quoted, is rotating in his grave ... furiously. The relevant government may now seize private property, again by paying whoever owns it "fair market" value, and then is perfectly free to convey it over to another private entity.

The justification for that government's doing so may be something like, say, increased tax revenues. Really, far more taxes are likely to be exacted from a strip mall than a goat farm.

Let's say that the People's Republic of Santa Monica seizes somebody's goat farm -- oh, for crying out loud, whyz.ache.err. Never mind what kind of goat farm would be within that municipality's limits.

Back to cases, the goat farm is shortly thereafter conveyed over to Divinely Anointed Heroic Capitalist Developers, who replace that noisome goat farm with a cute strip mall.

Let's suppose sometime later that the tax revenues fall a little short of what had been promised by Divinely Anointed Heroic Capitalist Developers. Here's the question. Would the People's Republic of Santa Monica then be within their rights to increase (?) the tax burden on Divinely Anointed Heroic Capitalist Developers to make up (!) for that shortfall.

In time, our Supreme Court of the United States will be called up to resolve that question. It's a good bet that Divinely Anointed Heroic Capitalist Developers will contest that increase in their tax burden.

Here's the implication of the "deal" between the People's Republic of Santa Monica and Divinely Anointed Heroic Capitalist Developers. In accepting that goat farm, even if the developers in question had paid that people's republic a fair price, they entered into partnership with the people's republic in question. Therefore, the dispute over the "enforced exaction" is a dispute between partners.

It gets worse. As a "DE FACTO" partner in this or that private enterprise, government may choose to participate in how that enterprise is managed. This goes beyond taxes and, say, health and safety regulations. Government might then express a preference for who should be, say, chief financial officer.

Here's the bottom line, my little chick-a-dees. The partner than can destroy the other partner is the senior partner. Aaaay, I think that bears repeating. The partner that can destroy the other partner is the senior partner. The other partner, being junior to the senior partner, is subservient to the senior partner.

. . . whyz.ache.err, ol'buddy, ya'gotta remember. "The power to tax is the power to destroy."

Okay, there's somebody out there caviling. All the foregoing applies, only when real estate is involved.To that, I say, keep on believing that, you dum-- ...

Here's an example of possible robbery by eminent domain that was brought to my attention, some little while ago.

. . . oh, yeah, such a robbery has yet to happen, but there'll be no need for surprise, when it does . . .

Let's suppose that Misses Mom and Mister Pop own and manage a business that's devoted to fabricating certain intricate medical equipment. Their business is no giant conglomerate, nonetheless, Mom and Pop Fabricatory contributes significantly to the county's economy.

Now, let's suppose the concern's proprietors hold a patent on a method that facilitates the fabrication of that certain intricate medical equipment. Somehow, this method comes to the attention of mid-level management at Global Leviathan.

What's more, renovating one of their plants in Mexico for employing that method would increase profits to the point, where the employees would receive an extra whole nickel an hour.

Well, the lawyers for Global Leviathan try to license the patent from Mom and Pop, who would like to receive compensation that's something like the industry standard. Final result of negotiations . . . no deal.

So, the lobbyists in the employ of Global Leviathan call in some chits with several politicians. And in short order, the patent in question is seized by the government under "colour of eminent domain", and then turned over to Global Leviathan.

. . . oh, yeah, Mom and Pop do receive "fair market" compensation . . . is it even in the same ballpark (?) as industry standard . . . doan'bee an ass!

The point is this. The principle is obviated . . . the cat is out of the bag, the toothpaste is out of the tube . . . the jig is up . . ..

Eventually, this is how it'll work out. By simply allowing any private enterprise to exist, government acquires partnership in that enterprise.

eYep, gotta admit. Those of us, who respect without worshiping private enterprise, might consider that a gloomy prospect.

Ah, yes, my little chick-a-dees, you might to consider reading my piece on "Constitutional Allegiance"


When I was in teens and in lust with just every pretty teenybopper in Misses Zaharis' candy store, I could devour a science fiction novel a day. In one novel, I came across a quote from the Anglican Book of Common Prayer.

I believe it's quite apt for those capitalists, who would enrich themselves at the expense of ordinary citizens through eminent domain.

Anyway, here it is, in all its splendor:.

"We eat and drink our own damnation."

. . . cool, is it not?


After giving the matter some thought, I figure it's time I impart my attitude towards the coming marxist state. For that, I should like you, good Reader, to recall the few days of warning, before Hurricane Katrina ravaged New Orleans.

Had I been imbecilic enough, I might've trudged up and down that city's Bourbon Street, carrying aloft a placard with the inscription, and I'm quoting, "say NO to katrina". Worse than folly, such conduct could've been construed as taunting the residents of New Orleans, and those along the Gulf coast.

Please allow me to assure you, dear Reader, nobody, and I mean absolutely nobody, saw me, trudging up and down Bourbon Street, holding aloft just such a placard.

And for very similar reasons, nobody, and I mean absolutely nobody, saw me trudging up and down the mall,which connects the White House and the Capitol, holding aloft a placard with the inscription, and I'm quoting, "say NO to the marxist state".

Really, one may as well say NO to water seeking its own level.

According to our best historians, Americans growing up, imbibing like mother's milk Thomas Jefferson's rhetoric. However, we Americans live in Alexander Hamilton's country. . . . oh, what a combination, we're gonna have . . .

Tom's rhetoric, Alex's country, Karl's state . . .

. . . oh, yeah, about the only thing that comes to mind, with regard to dealing successfully with that coming maxist state is embracing "EVOLUTIONARY ECONOMICS" .

Anyway, I do delve a little into that subject with my "bubba da prez . . . " post

For my part, right now, somewhere in my mind's ear, Frankie Laine is singing the tune that introduced "RAW HIDE", a teevee "oat burner" that gave Clint Eastwood his start toward stardom.

" . . . just rope, throw and brand'em, raw hide . . .

Maybe, that's how the future marxist state gets roped, thrown and branded.

.he who is known as sefton

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Sunday, December 04, 2005

you adiaphorestic? u'b'cha!

First time I encountered the word "adiaphorestic" ... I'm not sure, mind you ... I think ... I grunted ... or something like that. For the first time, I could describe how I regard religiosity with a single adjective.

To give an concrete example of how I regard religiosity in general, I shall avail myself of references to the persuasion of Christian Science. Please, dear Reader, understand I'm only trying to convey what I mean by "adiaphorestic". With regard to that persuasion, I'm completely neutral.

Let's suppose that I was brought up to be a Christian Science. Let's further suppose I was lucky enough to land a job with a swell corporation. Every time flu season comes around, the corporation offers their employees the opportunity to get free flu inoculation. For several years, I've declined to take advantage.

I've done so not so much out of a reluctance to get punctured by a hypodermic needles, but rather out of, well, compliance with the faith, in which I was reared.
As I understand Christian Science, people should rely far more on prayer than medical science.

Anway, here's what happens one morning. I awake with two realizations. One being, I've come down with a horrible case of the flu. Even taking a deep breath makes my chest ache. The other being, I'm adiaphorestic. I'm theologically indifferent.

Suddenly, I believe with all my heart in the adiaphorestic creed, which consists of a simple proposition. Here it is. If we understood perfectly God's messages, then we would be angels. Well, we're no angels. Manifestly, that simple proposition has mind-boggling implications.

Here and now, unfortunately, I have neither the training nor the credentials nor the ambition to explore those implications. For now, let's go back to the morning I discover myself.

It's a struggle, but I get to a dollar store, and buy some flu medicine. Rather than only the recommended two caplets, I swallow four. In the time that follows, I'm content to let myself be counted as a member of the local Christian Science congregation.

Heck, I still attend services. Some of the congregates are wonderful friends, and I don't want to lose touch. What's more, I'm free of any impulse to check out religions. So far as I'm concerned, religions in general have their good points and, maybe, a few bad points.

It's only when some cleric or other claims to know perfectly what God wants us to believe, that I feel a little uneasy.


.he who is known as sefton

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