Thoughts on the Murder of George Tiller

1) Vengeance belongs to God.

2) George Tiller was one of the most disgusting human beings ever to pollute the air of planet Earth. He has blood on his hands--the blood of thousands of innocents. He made Joseph Mengele look like a choir boy. He is no doubt at this very moment burning in the very hottest part of Hell, and he deserves it. He should not have been murdered.

3) No one who is truly pro-life can possibly support Tiller's murder. In a more sane society, he would have already been arrested, convicted and executed by the state as a mutliple murderer. But that does not justify anyone taking the law into their own hands.

4) This event will be used by our current government to paint every defender of innocent life as a terrorist. They believe this already, and they have been handed a very powerful stick with which to beat us...one they will use.

5) A religious organization that accepts blatant and unrepetant sinners like Tiller without demanding they change does not deserve to be called a church.

6) Tiller won't murder any more babies. That does not justify his murder. It's a sad day. Period.

Is It Football Season Yet?

Random sports observations...

Is there anything in the world of sports less interesting than NBA basketball?

Yes. Soccer. And hockey. And NASCAR (which as you may not know is an acronym...Non-Athletic Sport Center Around Rednecks). Ugh.

The Braves were a lousy team when I started following them. They couldn't win anything. Except for Hank Aaron, there just wasn't a whole lot of excitement. But after them getting good for so long, it is painful to watch this current iteration. Here's something you won't hear me say everyday--I miss Ted Turner.

So bring on football. Roll Tide!

Chickens, Meet Roost

For all the conservatives who stayed home last November...for all those deluded fools (like Christopher Buckley) who thought Obama wasn't so bad...for all those pro-lifers who didn't trust McCain...well, here comes the bill in the form of a "wise Latina" who WILL increase the power of government and decrease your freedom and guarantee the abortion holocaust continues. Great job.

Duty, Honor, Country

from General Douglas MacArthur's Farewell Address at West Point, May 12, 1962:


You are the leaven which binds together the entire fabric of our national system of defense. From your ranks come the great captains who hold the nation's destiny in their hands the moment the war tocsin sounds. The Long Gray Line has never failed us. Were you to do so, a million ghosts in olive drab, in brown khaki, in blue and gray, would rise from their white crosses thundering those magic words: Duty, Honor, Country.

This does not mean that you are war mongers.

On the contrary, the soldier, above all other people, prays for peace, for he must suffer and bear the deepest wounds and scars of war.

But always in our ears ring the ominous words of Plato, that wisest of all philosophers: "Only the dead have seen the end of war."

The shadows are lengthening for me. The twilight is here. My days of old have vanished, tone and tint. They have gone glimmering through the dreams of things that were. Their memory is one of wondrous beauty, watered by tears, and coaxed and caressed by the smiles of yesterday. I listen vainly, but with thirsty ears, for the witching melody of faint bugles blowing reveille, of far drums beating the long roll. In my dreams I hear again the crash of guns, the rattle of musketry, the strange, mournful mutter of the battlefield.

But in the evening of my memory, always I come back to West Point.

Always there echoes and re-echoes: Duty, Honor, Country.

Today marks my final roll call with you, but I want you to know that when I cross the river my last conscious thoughts will be of The Corps, and The Corps, and The Corps.

I bid you farewell.

For Memorial Day

In Flanders Fields

By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)
Canadian Army

In Flanders Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.



Honor the fallen. Thank the living. Pray that we don't break faith.

Her Husband Also, and He Praiseth Her

On a day dedicated to honoring mothers, my wife of twenty-three years deserves credit for the incredible job she has done as a mother to our kids. They are gifted, determined, and godly young people--a young lady and a young man any father would be honored to have in his family--and she nurtured and trained them at great sacrifice through twelve years of homeschooling. Their lives are the best praise she could ever receive.

I am blessed above other men. Thanks for everything Brenda. Happy Mothers' Day.