The Kim Davis Thing

Inch by inch, I am moving ever closer to leaving Facebook. I try very hard to keep my religious and political opinions to myself but occasionally I read or hear something that I feel compelled to share. Unfortunately, that seems to invite discourse. I like Facebook for keeping in touch with lifelong friends, the inspiration, cute pics of kids' first days of school, baby goats, and the hilarious memes. The political crap just brings me down. I guess I really don't want to know that the sweet person I think I know  is actually an intolerant homophobe who thinks Donald Trump would make a great president (the Donald Trump thing really scares/mystifies me). In any case, here are some views, opinions, and articles I've seen in the past couple of days.

Glenn Beck 

David Barton explains Kim Davis, the four kinds of law and why she should not be in Jail.

Interesting perspective that I haven't heard.
#kimdavis

https://www.facebook.com/GlennBeck/videos/10153610634643188/

Donald Trump

Having Kim Davis in federal custody removes all doubt of the criminalization of Christianity in our country. We must defend religious liberty and never surrender to judicial tyranny. Five, unelected Supreme Court lawyers did not and cannot make law. They can only make rulings. The Supreme Court is not the Supreme branch and it's certainly not the Supreme Being.
I am proud of Kim for standing strong for her beliefs. Who will be next? Pastors? Photographers? Caterers? Florists? This is a reckless, appalling, out-of-control decision that undermines the Constitution of the United States and our fundamental right to religious liberty!!!! - Facebook, Sept. 3, 2015

Mike Huckabee

I'm holding an "#ImWithKim Liberty Rally" on Tuesday, September 8th at the Carter County Detention Center in Grayson, Kentucky at 3:00 PM ET (local time).

Dear President Obama, Attorney General Lynch, & Judge Bunning:

Immediately release Kim Davis from federal custody. Exercising Religious Liberty should never be a crime in America. This is a direct attack on our God-given, constitutional rights.

Sincerely,

Mike Huckabee

 

Matt Walsh

http://www.theblaze.com/contributions/kim-davis-broke-an-illegitimate-evil-law-and-god-bless-her-for-it/

 

J. Russell Lloyd

So the saga continues. For those of you who are not very political or are not from our fair (usually) Commonwealth, Judge David Bunning imposed a sentence of incarceration for civil contempt on Kim Davis, the County Clerk of Rowan County for her failure to comply with an Order from his Court, the United States District Court for the Eastern District of Kentucky. The sentence is for a violation of an Order of the Court; not because Ms. Davis is Christian and not because Ms. Davis believes that same sex marriage is a sin.

There are two (2) types of contempt: criminal and civil. Contempt is defined, in this case, as a willful and intentional violation of an Order of the Court. Criminal contempt means that you are in jail (or otherwise punished) for a sentence certain. Civil contempt means that the contemnor (Kim Davis) is in complete control of the duration of their punishment. Once you cease to defy an Order of the Court, the punishment stops.
A couple of things to know:
First, Judge Bunning was appointed by President Bush (43) and is the son of retired Kentucky Senator Jim Bunning. He is a conservative through and through. The Bunnings do not take their political beliefs lightly.
Second, this is the only time that I can remember seeing a contemnor get through an entire appellate process before being required to comply with a Court Order. Usually, one is required to comply with an Order of the Court regardless of the appeal. If compliance is refused, then a contempt sentence is enforced, regardless of whether or not you are appealing the Order. Kim Davis got special treatment on this issue.
Kim Davis is in jail because she willfully and intentionally violated an Order of the Court. She received all the due process allowed her (all the way to the US Supreme Court). She no longer has any cause (good or otherwise) to refuse compliance with a Court Order in a Nation of Laws.
Third, Judge Bunning threw Ms. Davis a life preserver. After imposing a sentence for contempt, Judge Bunning took a break. When Court resumed, he interviewed the Deputy Clerks for Rowan County as to whether they would comply with his Order. Five (5) of the six (6) deputies affirmed that they would comply with his Order. He then recalled Ms. Davis and asked whether she could refrain from interfering with the deputies while they issued marriage licenses. If she would do that, then he was satisfied that she was not in contempt and could go home. Ms. Davis refused even that much. Ms. Davis' guarantee of personal religious freedom does not extend her the right to impose those beliefs on others, particularly when she is acting as the government.
Predictably, an outcry of judicial tyranny and religious persecution has arisen. This is not religious persecution. In the United States, we do not examine the sincerity or reasonableness of your religious beliefs in the public arena. You can believe any and everything in the name of your faith. However, the government may not deny you services based upon the religious belief of the government, its agents or employees. When that happens, then a clear violation of the Establishment Clause of the First Amendment occurs, which is precisely what happened when Ms. Davis refused to issue marriage licenses under "God's Authority".
As far as judicial tyranny goes, the outcry is completely unwarranted. Ms. Davis is subject to the jurisdiction (read authority) of the Court. She got access to justice in a way that few will ever experience. She was given special consideration at every step. This is not tyranny by any conceivable definition of the word, and to call it tyranny diminishes the claimant.
For those who may be tempted to take the outcry seriously, let me ask you to consider whether you would tolerate a government that denied you access to services and status available to everyone else because of religious beliefs that you did not share. If we are to continue to be a nation of laws, then we must do so much better. We must stop giving attention and authority to those who seek to take us back to a time when the government cried "God Wills It" and the cry became law. - Facebook post Sept. 3, 2015

David Von Drehle

Kentucky Clerk Kim Davis Doesn’t Seem to Get How the Constitution Works

Sept. 3, 2015

http://time.com/4022167/kentucky-clerk-kim-davis-doesnt-seem-to-get-how-the-constitution-works/

 

 

Chris Christie

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I liked Chris Christie. I believed he was a straight-shooter. I have an innate distrust of all politicians, but I thought he was as good as one could be. I sort of felt like I knew the guy. When he had LAP-BAND surgery I knew it was in preparation for a presidential run in 2016. I knew because as much as I liked him, I would have been conflicted about voting for an obese candidate with a bad temper who could drop dead of a heart attack or have a stroke at any moment. Losing weight would eliminate that worry for potential voters, including me. Plus, it was something I myself would have done, if I were in his shoes. Like I said, I felt like I knew him.

And that's why I know he is lying about "Bridgegate." I know he knew and approved of what his staff did to the busiest bridge in the United States. I know because any responsible governor would have thrown a fit about a "traffic study" that wreaked such havoc. It lasted 4 days. If he didn't know and approve, the tough-talking, no-holds-barred Christie would have demanded that the "traffic study" be halted immediately. He would have raised ten kinds of hell with whomever decided such a stupid thing. He would have fixed that mess for the people of New Jersey. But, he did not. 

You can't have it both ways, Governor. We're supposed to believe you aren't a "regular" politician, that you truly have the best interests of your state at heart and are qualified to lead this country, yet you didn't know about something that hurt so many of your constituents? You did not know what your most trusted staff members were doing? You were in the dark about all of this? Please. Do us all a favor and admit it! You, Chris Christie, are either a liar or an incompetent boob. In either case, I am glad to find out now, rather than after the election.

My Very Serious Diet

I'm fat. I'm in good company, as 35% of all Americans are overweight, and around here I think that percentage is surely much higher. I've been fat most of my life. I was not fat in high school (although I thought I was), and I was not fat for about two or three years in my 20's, but other than that, I've been fat. Occasionally, I get scared of just how fat I might really become, and I do something about it. This means anything from starving myself for a day or two to working out to attending Weight Watcher's meetings to taking prescription appetite suppressants to eating low-fat, high protein meals, to drinking Slime ('scuse me, Slim) Fast shakes to just sitting around, being depressed about it. Over the years I have been a member of almost every fitness club and gym in town, and have read numerous books (Atkins, South Beach, Eat this, not That).

And I'm still fat. Go figure.

This time doing something about it meant joining a program called Healthy You. It's offered by my employer, and I can attend for free. Some people have lost 40 lbs in 16 weeks on the program. I would like to lose 20. I will still be fat, but not as fat. And, if I lose more, well, that's great! I have seen the doctor in charge of the program, and attended the first class. Of the 16 weeks of class (I call them Fat Class) I must attend 12.8 sessions or pay. And, it's quite expensive, so if I fail I have to pay a lot of money and continue to be fat. I thought about it long (a year) and hard before making the commitment, so if I blow it, it is all on me. The first class was really nothing more than having my measurements and weight recorded. Lauren, the slim, young, pretty trainer, took me first, which I thought was odd, but maybe it was because I had my work ID badge on, and they were trying to get me in and out quickly? Whatever the case, I went with her and she led me next door to a scale. It's a very solid, sturdy scale, too. I bet that sucker can weigh up to 1,000 lbs if a person that big could stand on it. I should have asked her, but I was busy dreading what the number was going to be when I stepped on it. Before I did, she said that I would weigh the same way each time; if I kept my shoes on this time I would always keep my shoes on when weighing. She said some people take off their jewelry and shoes and most everything. I don't wear a pound of jewelry, so I wasn't worried about that, but in the past I have always removed my shoes. This time I decided to go all the way, and keep the shoes on. I'm fat. I know it. My shoes know it, too. I jumped on and watched the numbers. I am not going to tell you what the final result was, because it's just downright embarrassing, but it was a lot.

Lauren then led me back to the corner where she handed me this gadget that measured my percentage of body fat and BMI. It had two handles and I gripped it with my arms extended in front of me. I asked her how in the world this thing worked and she said it supposedly administers an electrical impulse (not felt) that travels through the body and back to the gadget. Huh, I said, and watched the numbers. And, damn. I am 44% fat. Almost half of my body is fat! No wonder I am always hot! I forgot what my BMI was, but it was way up there, too. Good Lord. Fat, fat, fat. After that she measured my arm, bust, waist, hips, and thigh. The results were big, enormous, big, huge, and big. Just so you know.

After my measurements, I returned to class and listened to Jackie, the instructor, talk about the program. Jackie is about 90 lbs soaking wet, so I was trying to pay attention to her, but really was thinking about how damn small she is. Even her voice is small. Some people. Anyway, the others in the class went one at a time to be measured, and I did not hear any screaming from next door, so I figured nobody was surprised. We then received our materials which consisted of a big binder full of info and more handouts. Then we purchased our meal replacement packs. That's what this is; a meal replacement program. We are supposed to consume 4 shakes a day, 3 servings of vegetables, and 2 servings of fruit. I decided to go with this program because I have a hard time eating right. I figured drinking a shake instead of making the right food choices would be much easier. One of the ladies in the class had done it before and she swore to us that the shakes were delicious. Jackie swore the shakes were yummy. And there are two cookbooks full of recipes explaining how you can use the stuff to make muffins and brownies and even soup, so I thought this might actually work. Because one of the recipes was for pizza (using the creamy potato soup package as crust), I chose as my two boxes for the week one chocolate, and one potato soup. I paid my money, and I was back to work, dreaming about how skinny I would be in May!

I started the shakes the next day. I whipped one up for breakfast while sitting at my desk, and it was really not that scrumptious. Not at all. But, Jackie and that other lady said to put a teaspoon of sugar-free chocolate pudding in there and I was fresh out, so I was hopeful the shakes would be better after a trip to the grocery.


 Okay, one shake down. I worked all morning, proud as could be with my new diet. However, by lunch I was ready to cry with hunger. I drank another shake during a meeting where everyone else was eating REAL FOOD and then I went to eat with my boss (he treated me for my birthday). At lunch I ate a baked potato and a fruit cup. I asked him how many servings of fruit he thought that was, and he said one. I thought probably at least two, but I went with what he said. After lunch it got hairy. I did not have time to drink my third shake (really, I was too busy to take 5 minutes to mix up a shake), and by the time I went to the grocery (my God, Kroger fried chicken never smelled so good) and returned home, I was ravenous. I excitedly mixed up the creamy potato soup (I love potatoes!), added fake butter, garlic, and onion, and sat down to enjoy a delicious bowl. Oh, this was going to be so good! Hm, the first spoonful was not what I expected. Neither was the second. Halfway through it I was forced to admit that it was nasty! I had to choke it down. What was I going to doooooo?, I screamed in my head. In desperation, I heated up and ate half a can of lima beans and started to feel like I might be okay, then opened a pineapple chunks cup. My husband asked if he could have some pineapple and I just gave him the cup (I felt like throwing it at him, but I did not). Dejectedly, I spent the next 2 hours completing school assignments, and then I went to bed.

First day was no good. I consumed only 3 shakes. Tomorrow would be better.

Tomorrow was yesterday. I love a good routine, so after I arrived at the office I immediately created one. I filled my shaker cup thing with 8 ounces of water, added ice, the chocolate shake mix, a teaspoon of  sugar-free pudding, and started to shake that sucker up. Immediately, globs of chocolate shake went flying. I did not have the lid on tightly. This is undoubtedly why it is not a good idea to eat or drink at your desk. By the time I cleaned up my desk and myself, I did not even want the stupid shake. I drank another one at lunch time, and ate a small salad with none of the stuff I like on it (still, it had to be at least 2 servings of vegetables), and another baked potato. I managed a fruit cup around 3pm (during another meeting), and then tried out a recipe for supper. I wanted to make pizza! I mixed up the dough and found it to be about the size of a flat biscuit. And it was sticky. I'm not sure what I did wrong, but I wrestled with the "dough" until I got enough on the stone to form my crust. I added a tablespoon of pizza sauce and a little fat-free shredded cheese. I popped it in the oven and waited. After a while, it looked like the "cheese" had sort of melted, so I figured it was done. I put the "pizza" on a plate and got ready to enjoy my dinner. Bite number one was not good. It was official. That creamy potato soup is nothing but gross! And I have a whole box of it! What am I going to doooooo?? I scraped the pizza sauce and cheese off the dough, ate it and threw the crust away. I ate a fruit cup and went to bed. It was 6pm.

Day two was not good.

This is day three, and I am worried. How long can I live on yucky chocolate shakes (and puhleese, these are shakes only because you shake them up), 3 servings of vegetables, and 2 of fruit before I crash and burn? And, no alcohol!

I'm fat and I'm insane. It's time for another shake. Stay tuned.

Rescue of a Fish

 
We came upon a bass belly-up in the water while boating with friends on Dale Hollow Lake in Celina,Tennessee, this weekend. We thought that it was dead at first but as we drew nearer we realized that it was still alive and choking on a bluegill fish lodged in its throat! We managed to get close enough for one of us to snag the fish and, after some dogged persistence, the offending bluegill was removed from the bass's gullet. I don't know if the bass survived, but we did see it quickly swim away after a moment of recovery.

I did not know that fish ate other fish this large. I really had never thought about it, but I suppose I thought they all ate algae and minnows. I just wonder how often something like this occurs. Out of curiousity I Googled "fish choking on fish" and found the following story:

Giant Pike Chokes

I seem to be fascinated more than others about this experience, but to put it in perspective: Dale Hollow's surface area is 27,700 acres, and the Dale Hollow National Fish Hatchery produces 1.5 million trout a year. That's just trout. I can't guess how many fish of all species are in the lake. I'm no good at odds-making, but I do know that the odds of us running across that fish at that particular place and time are pretty darn small. I am sure we have better odds of winning the lottery, which are 1 in 175,223,510.00.

By the way, I highly recommend a visit to Dale Hollow. It's a beautiful place. And if you see a choking fish, by all means, rescue it.

16 Weeks is 16 Weeks, Whether You Wanted it to Be, or Not

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This is one of the more ludicrous things I've read recently. TMZ, the trashy website that posts celebrity gossip/news, posted the above photo last week. The story was about Michelle Duggar, who recently miscarried her 21st child, and the photo of the baby's feet the family showed at the funeral for the child, Jubilee. TMZ blurred the baby's tiny feet in the photo and warned that "images may be disturbing." Really? Disturbing to whom? I'm very confused by this.The images of Jubilee's tiny feet may disturb TMZ's readers, yet it is perfectly legal to abort fetuses of this size and gestation in this country? I'm sorry, but it cannot be both ways. If it is legal and acceptable to kill a baby of this gestation, then no one should be "disturbed" by a photo of the wanted baby of married parents who died of natural causes. As a matter of fact, all fetuses should have an ultrasound image - hey, why not one of the 4D images that are so en vogue now for parents who want their baby to be born - captured and framed for posterity. Then, when the baby is killed, the image can be hung on a Wall of Shame somewhere. How about a museum dedicated to those killed in utero? There is a museum in Washington, DC, dedicated to the estimated 11 million victims of the Holocaust. Why not create a museum of abortion victims, of which there have been an estimated 50 million since Roe vs. Wade in 1973?

Whether you are "for" the legality of abortion or not, you should recognize the hypocrisy inherent in "protecting" people from the very images of what is being put to death. Of a life willfully ended. If we are confident enough of our right to end a baby's life, then we damned well should be confident enough to face up to the fact that there was a living human being there, and he or she had tiny fingers and toes, and was a person, not a blob. 

Here is what the photo of Jubilee really looked like:

Say there are two fetuses. Both have hands like this. One has a mother who has prayed for her to be. One has a mother who has prayed for her not to be. One continues growing until she is delivered into her mother's arms; one is killed and discarded. Basically, what we are saying is that the wanted fetus is a baby, a joyful happening, and the unwanted one is a thing, a problem to be resolved.  They are the same thing, no matter how the mother feels about them. I feel like a Vulcan and this is the most illogical thing I have ever encountered.

I don't understand.

The House Without a Christmas Tree

Well, I'm bothered.

I am considering not putting up a Christmas tree this year. I know, I know, we already don't do any decorating other than the tree. I mean, other people seem to enjoy putting lights on their houses and stuff, but my family has never been one for that. Actually, any lights that were ever draped over the bushes were done by me, and that includes the bushes from my childhood home. As a matter of fact, I was the person who put up the tree (it was an artificial one, with the metal branch ends color-coded to the holes in the "trunk") each year, and then put the lights and the ornaments (complete with the stupid white doves my mother liked) on it. Mom didn't care about it, Dad didn't care about it, and I don't remember if my brother did. I do remember, however, that I was the one who cared, and I was the one who put the damn thing together. One year I wrapped vinyl red plastic around the porch posts in an effort to decorate the house. I did that. No one else gave a crap. It looked about like you would expect - there is a picture somewhere of my brother and me (and I was wearing my ghastly 6th grade glasses and a windbreaker) sitting on the tiny porch with my feeble attempt at Christmas cheer.

The first year I was married, we did not have a tree. We were too poor to purchase an artificial one, and honestly, we were too poor to buy a real one, too. They were $40, and we didn't have an extra $40. So, the first year our apartment went undecorated. I don't remember caring. I honestly don't remember the second Christmas we were married, either. I do remember the first tree in our first house, but I don't remember if it was before or after our son was born. I know I went to Kmart on Parrish Avenue and bought lights (the tree was real) and the lights were ugly. They were orange and green because those were the cheapest. The ornaments were those simple glass balls. They were cheap, too.

I talked my husband into getting a tree every year after our first child was born; even he could see that it mattered when you had a kid. He became somewhat of a tree connoisseur - which type had soft needles, which ones didn't. My mother swore that vacuuming up the needles burned up vacuums, and the tree salesman convinced my husband that certain prickly needles would poke a hole in a toddler's hand. I have pictures taken every year of our tree with the presents under it. One year I even had a ring on the tree - it was in a gold ornament case,and my husband plucked it from the tree and presented it to me. That must have been a good year for us financially, and I don't remember why or how. I do, however, remember the year he had been injured in a fall from a building and wasn't working. His father gave us a choice of a TV or $300, and we chose the money. That was the only reason we had a Christmas at all.That $300 might as well have been $3,000; that's how important it was to us.

After many years of real trees  I decided to buy an artificial one. It bothered me that I couldn't put a real one up a month before Christmas, because it would dry out so much. Many years we put the tree up two weeks before, and then took it down the week after. That's a lot of work for 3 weeks of enjoyment! So, I eventually bought an artificial tree. My husband insists on storing it assembled in the basement, so someone must carry the thing upstairs every year. Although I hang all the ornaments, I guess carting it upstairs is just too much to ask. I can't do it myself, so I have to depend on him and the kids, and no one is interested. In 2008 I was stressed to the max with school and with no one cooperating with me, and I gave up on the tree. A week before Christmas my husband and my sons put the tree up, but with less than half of the ornaments. It was...ugly.

So, after asking nicely, cajoling, pleading, and begging for three days for someone to bring the tree up, I have decided there will be no tree this year. It ain't worth it. And now I am wondering why it bothers me so much. Is it because I have never lived in a family where the tree is wanted? Is it because I have always been the one to put up the damn tree? All I can think of is that stupid  TV movie from my childhood with Jason Robards as the asshole father who denies Addie her tree. And now I am living in "The House Without a Christmas Tree."

My goal remains: to spend Christmas on the beach. This just makes me more determined to get there.



















So, I obvious

The End of an Empire

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I am taking great pleasure in Rupert Murdoch's current misfortune. I won't be satisfied until Fox News is dead and buried, though. How ironic that one of the world's biggest liars managed to hoodwink some of the world's best-meaning citizens, including my friends and family...

http://mediamatters.org/columns/200906020036