by baldilocks

This repost isn’t apropos of anything in the news at present, but reading it brings back some memories of those in the mainstream media and even some bloggers who thought that happy, nice talk toward Islamists would sooth their murderous intent and that tough talk would inflame them.  Ah, the Good Old Days!

Originally posted at my old blog on July 25, 2005.

Let me see.

Talking about conditions under which WMD might be used is out; talking about using WMD in the event that one or more is used on us is definitely out. And talking about potential targets of WMD in the event that one or more is used on us is mega-out and bigoted to boot.

So why don’t we just dismantle them all right now?

And if a dirty bomb is smuggled over one of our borders by Islamists and is detonated, subjecting hundreds of thousands to millions of Americans to one of the most horrible deaths imaginable, along with rendering an area of our country uninhabitable for X-amount of centuries/millennia, I’ll urge whatever government officials that are left to think hard and long before making the Islamists and their co-religionists angry/even angrier—assuming that the target city isn’t LA.

After all, I and my fellow citizens would still have something left to lose. Possibly.

No, I’m not serious.

I don’t want us to have to use any type of WMD on anyone. Twenty [2016: thirty now] plus years ago when I used to load nuclear missiles onto fighter-bomber aircraft in the Air Force, I used to hope the same thing. But I still went to work everyday and I still reenlisted several times; and even though I was no longer a weapons loader, I was still most keenly aware of the ultimate expression of military might of our Armed Forces. And though I questioned my role in those forces at one time way back then, I had that question answered by a set of terrorists, no less: one day it might be necessary.

I didn’t want to bring this particular part of my background up again. It’s too much like playing the “chickenhawk” card, as Froggy said in the comments to this post. However, when I read some of the posts and columns which excoriate anyone who even considers naming a possible WMD target of the US in the wake of a WMD attack on us and I notice the dripping condescension from many of the various “arguments” against, I am reminded that (some) civilians forget the arsenal of death on which this country is sitting and what it is for: deterrence, either before or after. The purpose of the arsenal is for making an enemy think twice about attacking us either the first or the second time. Anything other purpose is secondary–if it exists at all–such as whether a nuking will make a given group hate us more or not.

Otherwise, why bother to maintain it?

To have someone say ‘don’t talk about it’ and tell me that I am ‘irresponsible’ for doing so makes me wonder what planet they’ve been living on. Then I remember that I am the one who has spent most of my adult life on “another planet,” a planet on which anyone with functioning cognition knows what our military’s purpose is and what it is capable of, security clearance or no.

I think that the nutcases who would detonate a WMD on our soil should be reminded, not told, but reminded of what we have waiting for any enemy that would obliterate an American city. We can keep arguing about whether certain targets are strategic or not, but since this enemy isn’t organized in the nation-state government structure [2016: yet], that question is far from answered. And to assume that it’s never talked about in “polite” company outside of secure information access facilities is, as I said before, naïve.

Let’s hope, however, for enemy’s sake–and ours–that the question at hand is never answered.

Tom Tancredo was right.

UPDATE: Maybe this post is apropos of today’s news. The results of being nice…what difference a decade makes, not to mention a president.  (ht: Instapundit)

Juliette Akinyi Ochieng blogs at baldilocks. (Her older blog is located here.) Her first novel, Tale of the Tigers: Love is Not a Game, was published in 2012. Her second novel will be done in 2016. Follow her on Twitter.

Please contribute to Juliette’s Projects JOB:  Her new novel, her blog, her Internet to keep the latter going and COFFEE to keep her going!

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by baldilocks

Yesterday was April Fools’ Day and it was fun to watch on various online platforms as known friends and associates plastered various outrageous statements on their accounts. Much of it was political in nature and, because most of my associates are conservative, a lot of it involved switching to the Democrat Party and endorsing Hillary Clinton or Bernie Sanders. My standard response to every blatant April Fools’ joke was, “not today.”

One friend said that he would not believe anything that anyone posted yesterday. A wise, energy-saving attitude.Liar

Lately, I’ve been thinking that the above attitude might be a way of navigating during the other 364-5 days. Perhaps one should disbelieve everything one reads, but view memes/ideas/phenomena/personae with the eyes of a skeptic. I suppose this idea should have been a constant mental shield from as far back as CBS’s Rathergate, but one doesn’t want to believe that everything is Bravo Sierra.

I certainly don’t want to. However, I’m almost forced to believe that too much of what enters into our minds is fabricated. Consider this piece from the New York Times, dated July 21, 2015:

St. Mary Parish is home to many processing plants for chemicals and natural gas, and keeping track of dangerous accidents at those plants is Arthur’s job [Duval Arthur, director of the Office of Homeland Security and Emergency Preparedness for St. Mary Parish, Louisiana]. But he hadn’t heard of any chemical release that morning [September 11, 2014]. In fact, he hadn’t even heard of Columbia Chemical. St. Mary Parish had a Columbian Chemicals plant, which made carbon black, a petroleum product used in rubber and plastics. But he’d heard nothing from them that morning, either. Soon, two other residents called and reported the same text message. Arthur was worried: Had one of his employees sent out an alert without telling him?

If Arthur had checked Twitter, he might have become much more worried. Hundreds of Twitter accounts were documenting a disaster right down the road. “A powerful explosion heard from miles away happened at a chemical plant in Centerville, Louisiana #ColumbianChemicals,” a man named Jon Merritt tweeted. The #ColumbianChemicals hashtag was full of eyewitness accounts of the horror in Centerville. @AnnRussela shared an image of flames engulfing the plant. @Ksarah12 posted a video of surveillance footage from a local gas station, capturing the flash of the explosion. Others shared a video in which thick black smoke rose in the distance.

[…]

In St. Mary Parish, Duval Arthur quickly made a few calls and found that none of his employees had sent the alert. He called Columbian Chemicals, which reported no problems at the plant. Roughly two hours after the first text message was sent, the company put out a news release, explaining that reports of an explosion were false. When I called Arthur a few months later, he dismissed the incident as a tasteless prank, timed to the anniversary of the attacks of Sept. 11, 2001. “Personally I think it’s just a real sad, sick sense of humor,” he told me. “It was just someone who just liked scaring the daylights out of people.” Authorities, he said, had tried to trace the numbers that the text messages had come from, but with no luck. (The F.B.I. told me the investigation was still open.)

The Columbian Chemicals hoax was not some simple prank by a bored sadist. It was a highly coordinated disinformation campaign, involving dozens of fake accounts that posted hundreds of tweets for hours, targeting a list of figures precisely chosen to generate maximum attention. The perpetrators didn’t just doctor screenshots from CNN; they also created fully functional clones of the websites of Louisiana TV stations and newspapers. The YouTube video of the man watching TV had been tailor-made for the project. A Wikipedia page was even created for the Columbian Chemicals disaster, which cited [a] fake YouTube video. As the virtual assault unfolded, it was complemented by text messages to actual residents in St. Mary Parish. It must have taken a team of programmers and content producers to pull off.

It’s a very long layout of a Russian-based agency dedicated to trolling.

Of Course, we all know what the purpose of trolling is: to get under the skin of non-trolls, usually political/social/religious enemies. But one of the most importantly things that purposeful trolling does is to skew the conversation and, therefore, any reasonable view of any matter under discussion. Individual trolls can do this, if one “feeds” it–that is engage it in conversation.

Imagine the distorted view that an entire organization of trolls can create–an organization whose business model is built on twisting views and building “reality” out of thin air.

The Enemy is the Father of lies and his wiles are many. And I’ll bet that many of us have been fooled more times than we know of; fooled by elaborate, well-designed architectures of lies–and I definitely do not leave mainstream information dispensaries out of this equation, as I mentioned already.

It makes me want to shut my computer off forever. But I won’t…not yet, anyway.

Juliette Akinyi Ochieng blogs at baldilocks. (Her older blog is located here.) Her first novel, Tale of the Tigers: Love is Not a Game, was published in 2012. Her second novel will be done in 2016. Follow her on Twitter.

Please contribute to Juliette’s Projects JOB:  Her new novel, her blog, her Internet to keep the latter going and COFFEE to keep her going!

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Pedestrian-Crossingby baldilocks

Today I walked to the library to print out the postage that Amazon sent me so that I could return a non-operational shredder that stopped working after a few months (yes, I oiled it). Then I walked over to a UPS store to send the package. It was a nice little trek.

I’ve been without a car since the summer of 2014. LA is not like eastern cities. If you don’t have a car, you’re almost nothing and many drivers treat you like it, especially if you’re pulling indicators of your car-less status, like a rolling backpack or a personal shopping cart. I use both regularly, after having injured the entire right side of my body while carrying a heavy load on my shoulder. Ah, old age.

When I get rich, I’m going to set up a camera on some busy corner to document and snitch on all the drivers who barely miss—or hit—pedestrians as the latter are crossing the street with the right-of-way. Usually, this happens when the driver is making a right turn. But I’ve had more than one driver make a left turn right in front of me.

There are nice drivers, however; those who stop when I’m trying to cross an intersection where there is no signal and even those who mess up because they didn’t see me and apologize when they realize that they’ve erred. And it could be worse; I’ve seen what Nairobi pedestrians have to deal with.

Outside of dodging drivers, there’s an interesting side to long walks in big cities: the small businesses to which one is necessarily oblivious when driving down the street. Capitalism is still breathing, even in California. Call it an upside.

Being stripped of many of my material possessions has opened my eyes to many things—my own obliviousness, for one.

Plans: more walking. My legs hurt, probably from yesterday’s walk. I’ve been sitting around too much.

Juliette Akinyi Ochieng blogs at baldilocks. (Her older blog is located here.) Her first novel, Tale of the Tigers: Love is Not a Game, was published in 2012. Her second novel will be done in 2016. Follow her on Twitter.

Please contribute to Juliette’s Projects JOB:  Her new novel, her blog, her Internet to keep the latter going and COFFEE to keep her going!

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brussels
Brussels, Belgium on March 22, 2016

by baldilocks

Originally posted on September 11, 2006.

Two men [original link unavailable].

Based on the accounts of witnesses and loved ones’ knowledge of the two men’s characters, a devastating picture emerges of that tragic morning. [SNIP]

When the first plane hit the building, [Abe] Zelmanowitz, 55, and [Edward] Beyea, 42, both systems analysts for Blue Cross Blue Shield, fled the office with their co-workers. The elevators were not working, and Beyea, a 300-pound man in a heavy mechanized wheelchair, could not get down the stairs, which were choked with streams of panicked workers. [SNIP]

“He couldn’t have left him,” said Zelmanowitz’s sister-in-law, Evelyn Zelmanowitz of Flatlands, N.Y. “That’s what made Abe, Abe.” [SNIP]

Both men were lost in the collapse of the north tower that morning. [SNIP]

There is some indication that they had made it to the 21st floor when the building collapsed. Their bodies have not been recovered.

Why are such men hated?

On that very day, I was sad, then furious and then filled with hate. I don’t feel the latter much any more, but, occasionally, it flares up again; especially when I read about people like Misters Zelmanowitz and Beyea. Their families have nothing to bury; they only live with the memory of loved persons. And, meanwhile, other men and women are dying for having breathed in the dust of their bodies, along with the dust of their desks, their computers, the dust of Mr. Beyea’s wheelchair, the dust of the building in which they worked, and are dying from just plain grief.

Why don’t we hate them?

Do I hate them—the terrorists who murdered Misters Zelmanowitz and Beyea? No, not most of the time. Nor do I hate their liked-minded living brethren. Do I fear them? Most certainly not, but that’s merely because I learned to not fear that which can kill the body—also because I knew a long time ago that the goal of any terrorist is to instill fear. Can’t give them that particular victory.

But why shouldn’t I hate those who would murder such seemingly innocuous, harmless and loving men like Zelmanowitz and Beyea? Because it does nothing for either me or those two men; I’m here and they’re bodies are now an integral part of New York City (along with those of hundreds of others who were never found in the wreckage of the Twin Towers).

So why does the story of these two formerly living men fill me with so much anger?

Because they were simply living well and they should have been left alone to go on living the same way. That they died well and honorably—like so many others on that day—is uplifting in a way, but guess what? I would have preferred that they had gone on living anonymously rather than to have become one of the footnotes in many a 9/11 post like this one.

And that’s why I hate the terrorists. Sometimes. Okay, often.

Juliette Akinyi Ochieng blogs at baldilocks. (Her older blog is located here.) Her first novel, Tale of the Tigers: Love is Not a Game, was published in 2012. Her second novel will be done in 2016. Follow her on Twitter.

Please contribute to Juliette’s Projects JOB:  Her new novel, her blog, her Internet to keep the latter going and COFFEE to keep her going!

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by baldilocksRestraining_Order

One wonders how long Megyn Kelly will have to put up with Donald Trump’s…ahem…pathological obsession with her. Twenty years, maybe? That’s how long British newsreader Selina Scott says she had to put up with the same, along with the attendant long-distance verbal abuse.

During the two weeks I spent with Trump there were to be helicopter rides over Manhattan, and private jet flights to his lavish ocean-side Florida estate, a trophy property once owned by Marjorie Merriweather Post, one of the richest women in America.

He invited me to his poolside party, boasted about his great skills as a billionaire businessman, and, most tellingly, introduced me to the two most important women in his life – his then wife Marla and his mother Mary.

I believe it’s not too fanciful to suggest that the key to understanding Trump is in his attitude to women.

As Megyn Kelly, the Fox News host, discovered when she asked him about his attitude to women (he has called those he dislikes ‘fat pigs, dogs, slobs and disgusting animals’), the oily smile is replaced with a deep well of hate if he feels he has not emotionally seduced you.

I know. I’ve been there. My 60-minute documentary exposed how through bluff, bombast and braggadocio, he had convinced the American business community he was far richer than he was, and that while the rest of his rivals were ‘losers’, he knew how to make the US great.

This ability to blag people into believing he was a commercial genius was most vividly illustrated in a helicopter ride we took over New York. Pointing to the Empire State Building, he told me he owned it.

‘What all of it?’ I asked.

‘Yes, 100 per cent,’ he replied.

Later, forgetting he had told me he wholly owned the building, he said he only owned 50 per cent of it which he then considerably reduced. It was the same story with the Trump Taj Mahal Casino in Atlantic City.

‘It’s wholly owned by me,’ he said. ‘Are you sure?’ I asked. ‘Well maybe 80 per cent,’ he demurred. ‘Are you quite sure?’ I pressed. He replied: ‘Well it’s actually 50 per cent…’

I showed both assertions in my film with many other inconsistencies with the telling soundtrack It Ain’t Necessarily So.

Trump went ballistic. Over many years he sent me a series of intimidating letters branding me ‘sleazy, unattractive, obnoxious and boring.’ He said I was ‘totally uptight’, and that I had begged him for a date. In his dreams!

This vicious tirade was often accompanied by fanzine newspaper cuttings which purported to show how much money he was making.

He scrawled across the top: ‘Selina you are a major loser.’ Another letter declared: ‘Dear Selina, I hear your career is going terribly.

(…)

This harassment only stopped when I threatened to take legal action against him for effectively stalking me.

He said, she said? Sure. But a pattern comes into view. Pretty, accomplished woman who can’t be charmed or intimidated. Same words. Same types of distortions. Same unreasonable anger. Same inability to let things go.

Funny thing though. I think that Trump is also trying to seduce America. I wonder how he’ll react if those advances are spurned.

Actually, I don’t wonder.

Juliette Akinyi Ochieng blogs at baldilocks. (Her older blog is located here.) Her first novel, Tale of the Tigers: Love is Not a Game, was published in 2012. Her second novel, tentatively titled, Arlen’s Harem, will be done in 2016. Follow her on Twitter.

Please contribute to Juliette’s Projects JOB:  Her new novel, her blog, her Internet to keep the latter going and COFFEE to keep her going!

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by baldilocks

Have you ever felt as though crazy things were happening and you were caught up in the midst of it, but felt powerless to stop the crazy thing or to extricate yourself from it? To me, that’s what it feels like, sometimes, to view the political climate these days. And, to be honest, it has felt this way for the last ten years.

As most know, I believe in the God of the Bible, and therefore, believe that He controls things. But here is something else He does: He allows things to happen, and especially allows feces to happen when we refuse to communicate with Him and to accept His protection. This country did this very thing in 1963 and, looking back, it’s obvious—at least to me—that He has allowed one simple thing to happen in this country: disordered and prideful thinking. And it’s present among many ordinary people as well as among most leaders and wannabe leaders.

I could go down the list of examples of disordered and prideful thinking since the specified point in time, but I’d like to use just one example which covers the entire 53-year period and it’s this: all too many Americans believe that one person in the office of the President of the United States will make everything that’s wrong in the country all better.

This is called Strong Man politics and it is the basis for nearly every form of tyranny that has ever existed, especially in the last century.

However, even after we removed ourselves from under God’s protective wing all those years ago, America seemed mostly immune to this type of thinking, but it has always been an undercurrent, one which seem to fully flower in 2008. But only half of the country was caught up in that wave.

Now it’s other half’s turn. Since we refuse the real King, we tend to look for another. To wit:

LookingforaNewKing

We keep looking for a master among flawed humans (BIRM) and wonder why we keep failing. It’s emblematic of insanity.

Juliette Akinyi Ochieng blogs at baldilocks. (Her older blog is located here.) Her first novel, Tale of the Tigers: Love is Not a Game, was published in 2012. Her second novel, tentatively titled, Arlen’s Harem, will be done in 2016. Follow her on Twitter.

Please contribute to Juliette’s Projects JOB:  Her new novel, her blog, her Internet to keep the latter going and COFFEE to keep her going!

Or hit Da Tech Guy’s Tip Jar in the name of Independent Journalism—->>>>

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sheepdogby baldilocks

We are almost at the end point of the Herding™ .

From me, in 2010:

[B]lack Americans have become the organized Left’s shock troops in latter’s war against America and all too many of us have become the Left’s overseers, tasked to force the “deserters” back into formation using the tools of ridicule and shame. I almost said that the Left was at war with black people, but the Left doesn’t esteem blacks enough to consider us as their enemies. We are merely tools to be used for the task at hand—to foment violent racial discord which will have to be put down using infinitely stronger government violence–and to be discarded when the task is completed, assuming that there will be any of us left after the New Civil War.  And we let ourselves be used for one reason: tribal vengeance; for slavery and for oppression.

The New Civil War has been mostly skirmishes, though, to the losers of these skirmishes, they feel more like mini-tribal wars, no doubt.

Last night in Chicago, an real battle occurred. It wasn’t a tactic that resembled Fort Sumter, but its strategic significance may be similar, though it’s yet too early to tell. But there will be more like this; more violence, more injuries and more death.

The backdrop of race and politics is important, but they are of secondary importance. Americans are being pushed by unseen forces into a place which there is no way out other that an escape which God provides, and, in order for Him to provide it, we have to ask Him. Seems simple enough, but you know as well as I that there are many, many people who would rather take their chances using their own strength and discernment—such as it is—rather than even admit that God exists, much less ask Him for anything.

From a friend today:

It depends on who you are following and who your “shepherd” is. It is either the things of this world, the devil, and pursuit of earthly treasures for the here and now; or, it is the Great Shepherd. Jesus did speak of the blind leading the blind; and, they both fall into the ditch together.

Popcorn and ammunition salesmen must be getting rich beyond their wildest dreams, and good on them. But it’s better to rely on the One who provides popcorn, and ammo, and the riches of wisdom, and insight.

Otherwise, the chains await. And once you’re pinned down and penned in, good “luck” getting out.

By the way, a certain Mr. Ayers tweeted this today.

billayers

Now you can’t say that you don’t know what the endgame is.

Juliette Akinyi Ochieng blogs at baldilocks. (Her older blog is located here.) Her first novel, Tale of the Tigers: Love is Not a Game, was published in 2012. Her second novel, tentatively titled, Arlen’s Harem, will be done in 2016. Follow her on Twitter.

Please contribute to Juliette’s Projects JOB:  Her new novel, her blog, her Internet to keep the latter going and COFFEE to keep her going!

Or hit Da Tech Guy’s Tip Jar in the name of Independent Journalism—->>>>

baldilocks

I’ve been a fan of Stephen Fry from back in the days of Jeeves and Wooster, when he and a very young pre-House M.D. Hugh Laurie rocked the London 1930s stories. Then I came across Black Adder, and my fate was sealed.

Over the years, Fry has been very outspoken on many subjects in a very witty way, most recently on Twitter, and Fry can be outrageous, which is a good thing if you believe in freedom of expression.

I just found out he closed his Twitter account.

Why?

He made a joke:

The comedian and BAFTA host made a joke about his friend, costume designer Jenny Beaven, in which he said that, “Only one of the great cinematic costume designers would come to an awards ceremony dressed as a bag lady,” the BBC quoted him as saying.

A bag lady in leather moto jacket and wrinkly pants, that is, who won an award for costume design.

Never mind that the bag lady lady involved assures us that she and Fry remain friends, the amount of outrage directed at Fry on Twitter over that remark made him leave because Too many people have peed in the pool (emphasis added)

To leave that metaphor, let us grieve at what twitter has become. A stalking ground for the sanctimoniously self-righteous who love to second-guess, to leap to conclusions and be offended – worse, to be offended on behalf of others they do not even know. It’s as nasty and unwholesome a characteristic as can be imagined. It doesn’t matter whether they think they’re defending women, men, transgender people, Muslims, humanists … the ghastliness is absolutely the same. It makes sensible people want to take an absolutely opposite point of view. I’ve heard people shriek their secularism in such a way as to make me want instantly to become an evangelical Christian.

Back in 1974, well before Twitter’s inception, a conceptual artist, photographer and gay rights activist named Robert Opel streaked the Oscars. Another sharp Brit, David Niven, who was the co-host, instantly quipped,

“Isn’t it fascinating to think that probably the only laugh that man will ever get in life is by stripping off and showing his shortcomings?”

Opel became a celebrity, no one asked for Niven’s head on a pike, and people went on with their daily business. Imagine the tweeted self-righteous outrage if that had happened today instead.

One could argue that Twitter lends itself to the purposes of the outraged shrieks. Just this week, a liberal I know who hasn’t spoken to me in over two years tweeted me regarding Justice Scalia’s replacement. This person, a former friend, has my email and cell phone number, so I have to surmise they are not interested in a real conversation. They are, as Fry said, instead sanctimoniously self-righteous, and interested only on shows of public outrage.

Not being famous, there was no outcry when I opted to not pee in the pool.

Twitter, however, has come up with a Trust and Safety Council, which

will discuss what kind of ‘tools and policies’ might be required to allow users to report ‘hateful’ commentary, and potentially have it extinguished.

As Brendan O’Neill says,

The censorious side is winning. They have successfully elevated their own right to psychic comfort over everyone else’s right to express their views, their anger, and, yes, their hatred. They think their right never to see something that upsets them outweighs the historic, hard-fought-for freedom of people to say and write what lies in their hearts and minds. What arrogance is this? Twitter, destroy your Safety Council before it destroys you and the sometimes ugly but ultimately amazing world of internet freedom.

The Trust and Safety Council proves that you can’t take the twit out of Twitter.

Fausta Rodriguez Wertz writes on U.S, and Latin American politics, news, and culture at Fausta’s Blog.

 

goldencalfworshipby baldilocks

17 And there was a man of mount Ephraim, whose name was Micah.

And he said unto his mother, The eleven hundred shekels of silver that were taken from thee, about which thou cursedst, and spakest of also in mine ears, behold, the silver is with me; I took it. And his mother said, Blessed be thou of the Lord, my son.

And when he had restored the eleven hundred shekels of silver to his mother, his mother said, I had wholly dedicated the silver unto the Lord from my hand for my son, to make a graven image and a molten image: now therefore I will restore it unto thee.

Yet he restored the money unto his mother; and his mother took two hundred shekels of silver, and gave them to the founder, who made thereof a graven image and a molten image: and they were in the house of Micah.

And the man Micah had an house of gods, and made an ephod, and teraphim, and consecrated one of his sons, who became his priest.

In those days there was no king in Israel, but every man did that which was right in his own eyes.

–Judges 17:1-6

I won.

–President Barack H. Obama

Conservatism as an objective political concept has no meaning anymore. Many who call themselves conservatives and vote Republican do so for one reason: the prospect of “winning.”

This woman doesn’t understand or subscribe to conservative concepts, nor does she want to do either and I believe that there are many more like her. And, in spite of distortions and falsehoods in the piece, her op-ed is a very useful read. It’s from 2014 and was a harbinger of things to come. There are even some hardcore truths in it.

I am a registered Republican. And I’m black.

I’m for civil and equal rights. A raise in minimum wage, I’m for a woman’s right to choose an abortion. My switch from the Democratic Party to the Republican Party was not about ideology but about power.

I looked at the Democratic Party as largely taking my vote for granted because close to 90% of blacks vote Democratic, according to the exit polls from the last five presidential elections. While the black community has delivered for the Democratic party, it has done little to deliver for the black community, which finds itself mired at the bottom rung of just about every statistical category from unemployment rates to incarceration rates.

My party affiliation change came with much thought. It happened during the 2010 mid-term election cycle when the Republican Party was catapulted to success on the coattails of a fractional element calling itself first Teabaggers [False] (until someone told them what that actually meant) [False]. The Tea Party Movement changed not only the face of the Republican Party offering up more than 130 candidates for Congress–50% elected to the Senate and 31% to The House. The Tea Party also pushed the Republican Party to the fringes on social issues, in particular [No evidence for this].

All emphasis mine.

That the woman is black and holds “black issues” at the forefront of her political calculations is of secondary importance to my point, which is: that those of us who base our political decisions on a concrete set of ideological and moral standards are in the minority.

Many of my Facebook friends who shared this piece pointed to it as evidence of the futility of conservative outreach in the “black community.” Partially, they are correct, but it’s a much broader problem than a racial one. It’s evidence of the futility of conservative outreach to any group which doesn’t recognize the effects of post-modern education on the thinking of the vast majority its members.

Where nothing is true, anything is true and the definition of a thing is whatever you want it to be. And, above all, the only thing that matters is power. That’s postmodernism.

Juliette Akinyi Ochieng blogs at baldilocks. (Her older blog is located here.) Her first novel, Tale of the Tigers: Love is Not a Game, was published in 2012. Her second novel, tentatively titled, Arlen’s Harem, will be done in 2016. Follow her on Twitter.

Please contribute to Juliette’s Projects JOB: HER TRIP TO KENYA! Her new novel, her blog, her Internet to keep the latter going and COFFEE to keep her going!

Or hit Da Tech Guy’s Tip Jar in the name of Independent Journalism—->>>>baldilocks

by baldilocks

First off, I never have, at least explicitly.Baldilocks mini

There is no way of guessing which candidate, if elected, will keep his/her word after getting elected. Promises—like rules—are made to be broken among those of the political class. Endorsing a candidate implies that I think that a single person would make the best president from among the choices available and even when I very strongly supported a candidacy—President Bush’s in 2004—I never formally endorsed him. In 2008, I very strongly opposed then-Senator Obama’s candidacy, so it was a given that I supported that of Senator McCain.

Now? I could go on about the pros and cons–no pun intended–of Senator Cruz and Mr. Trump, but to quote the presumptive 2016 Democrat front-runner, what difference at this point would it make?

This is what’s going to happen: the country is about to take a huge financial fall and whichever party is in control at that time will take the blame for it. Wait. Scratch that. If a Democrat is in the White House, he/she will find a way to blame the Republicans and the Mainstream press will help bolster that notion. It goes without saying that the GOP will shoulder all the blame if there is a GOP president at the breaking point. There will be another Civil War–and only among the political elite, if God is merciful to us.

In short, I think that we are past the point where it matters which person and which party is in the White House, so any endorsement coming from me would be a waste and would draw needless annoyance from those who worship the Political Candidate Idols and who engage in “bumper-sticker-level mudslinging” whenever their god is blasphemed.

I prefer to keep developing and improving my faith life, my critical thinking skills, and writing my novel. There will time enough for choosing. And for finger-pointing. And for chaos.

Juliette Akinyi Ochieng blogs at baldilocks. (Her older blog is located here.) Her first novel, Tale of the Tigers: Love is Not a Game, was published in 2012. Her second novel, tentatively titled, Arlen’s Harem, will be done in 2016. Follow her on Twitter.

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