THE 2024 ELECTION

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I am admiring the resilience of Iowans in the face of these arctic temperatures.  As I was checking caucus news yesterday, the Fox reporter showed a temperature of negative 8 degrees.  The wind, or course, dictates it's colder: negative 34 degrees.  For a brief moment, a cold chill ran across me as I can still vividly remember, as I hit the sack while stationed at Camp Casey, hoping for such temperatures. Crazy, you say.  Perhaps; but if the wind chill fell to negative 20 degrees, or if it was raining, PT at 0515 hours would be cancelled. An extra hour in the sack - what a luxury.  With that PT formation requiring the Daily Dozen exercises, followed by a two-mile run, time didn't allow me to grab breakfast in the mess hall.  (I hated missing out on one of my favorite breakfast items, "S.O.S.". My father's S.O.S., incidentally, was the best. Loving this culinary item since I was a little boy, I have extensive experience with the various mess hall renditions devoured at Fort Reilly, Fort Benning, Fort Jackson as well as field deployments in France, Germany and the Republic of Korea.)  In lieu of a big delicious breakfast, I hurriedly showered and ran the couple of miles or so to the dental clinic where I started seeing patients at 0800 hours.  My rank wasn't sufficient to have a dedicated driver at my disposal and, delightfully, I was billeted in a Quonset hut at the MTF (medical treatment facility), where every other soldier was billeted. My duty station, the dental clinic, however, was 4 clicks away!

As if adding salt to my wound on a daily basis was the fact the Camp Casey Dental Clinic was staffed by four other dental officers who were attached to the Second ID clinic.  Not assigned to the Division.  As a consequence, they were not required in PT formations at 0515 hours Monday thru Friday (!).  Further, they were in Yongsan one Wednesday a month for "training"; they didn't see patients.  (I was later attached to the 10 Medical Detachment (DS), Yongsan, in order to get their dental staff up to speed for field deployment:  the new DEFCON designation on the Korean Peninsula required significant increases in tactical dental teams.)

My living quarters in Yongsan were exponentially better than those provided by the Quonset hut.  Best of all, no PT! 

Attachment to the Tenth Medical Detachment provided a great perk:  a BOQ with air conditioning and a wonderful  Ajumma who did the five officers' laundry and cleaning.  If desired, she would cook for us; she was an amazing cook. Her yaki mandu (pot stickers) were the first and the best I have ever eaten.  She was delightful and, although she could not speak very much English, she would take time to teach me Hanguk-mal.  

At Camp Casey there was not much off-duty time; the few places in TDC (Tongduchon), adjacent to the HQ of the combat arm of 8th Army and where the soldiers went, didn't require much knowledge of the Korean language.  Yongsan Garrison, conversely, presented opportunities to appreciate the culture of quite an amazing country.  This captain needed more commo skills...

 The Republic of Korea SOFA terms (Status of Forces Agreement) dictated that we could only pay Ajumma $35 monthly, no more.  I know that each of the five of us paid that small sum by check and, as a measure of how much we appreciated our "house mother",  commissary purchases would find their way to Ajumma.  She would tell us how excited her family was when she brought home something from the Yongsan commissary.

Ajumma's patience, coupled with AFKN's Korean phrases on TV, enabled me to, initially, get a beer and a favorite of Americans and Europeans, bulgogi.  Ajumma made sure I didn't ask for kegogi which used dog meat instead of beef.  Her continued work with me enabled a better ability to utter a few Korean phrases and, consequently, more enjoyment of what Korea had to offer, without being restricted to only-English-required enclaves such as Itaewon.  One Saturday morning, I wanted to test my knowledge of Hanguk-mal in a part of Seoul that didn't speak Miguk-mal. I boarded a bus, crossed the Han River a couple of miles toward central Seoul and disembarked where 'nary an English word was being spoken.  

Hanguk-mal, the Korean language, doesn't use inflections in the syllables and sentence constructs, as does the English language. In contrast to English (Miguk-mal), which also places emphasis on certain words or phrases, Koreans use a whole sentence or a combination of them with different inflections, mostly guttoral, that express an almost emotional value to whatever they are saying.  Speaking with Ajumma for a few weeks enabled me to walk around, acquiring beverages, food and, most importantly, some dialog with Koreans.  They appreciated my efforts in my struggle to gain fluidity in Hanguk-mal.  My good friend, Al Kuhre, actually studied the written language, as well.  He had a beautiful Korean girlfriend and wanted to impress her with a handwritten letter.   

Ajumma, indicating she was pleased with my progress with the language, introduced me to a highly respected historian at Seoul University,  Woo-keun Han , who had recently authored a History of Korea textbook.  His daughter was studying there for a PhD in Biochemistry; the doctoral thesis must be in English.  He asked if I would be able to provide her with assistance in the translation process.  I indicated I would be delighted to do so as part of JUSMAG outreach operations.  I thought simple grammar construction and syntax would be all that would be required of me.

Oh my, there was more difficulty than expected, as placement of a prepositional phrase, or improper antecedent agreement would distort the underlying biochemical meaning of the sentence or phrase.  I quickly called my wife in Chattanooga and asked her to send my Biochem textbook, authored by Lubert Stryer.  I needed some review, even with two semesters of Biochem at UTC and as a post graduate in Memphis behind me.  Mission was accomplished.  Thanks, God.  That would have been embarrassing if one of  the board members evaluating her thesis inquired if a sixth grader had written the English version...

 Dr. Han asked if I would be able to help other Biochem PhD candidates in a similar fashion.  After refreshing myself on the hydroxylation of proline and lysine as part of the production of ascorbic acid (vitamin C), necessary for collagen formation, and dozens of other common biochemical reactions in the body, the subsequent collaborations were much easier.  

Unlike the United States, Koreans place high emphasis on the education of their children.  High school students must not be out of their home on school nights after 1900 hours.  LTC Blainey's secretary, whom I interviewed before her addition to our dental staffing, provided me with a unique insight to their culture.  She shared with me her suspension from school for a few days because she was caught at a movie theater on a week night.  Hye Chong was a brilliant young lady who spoke five languages and provided me with an immersion in Korean culture likely not experienced by other visitors to the Land of a Thousand Hills.  An outdoor Korean wedding, replete with traditional Korean dress, music and, of course, tasty cuisine (I do like kimchi with my rice and bulgogi...) provides a wonderful afternoon, remembered forever.  Korean weddings will always find two wooden ducks, a symbol of a monogamous relationship, as part of the ceremony; I brought back a pair for my mother and father.  

The only formal affair I attended in Korea was a JUSMAG affair on Ambassador's Row.  Since I would be dining with heads of state, dress blues were required.  As an officer, I was well versed in this sort of protocol and wanted everything copasetic, a term often used by my father. No violation of that protocol.  During dinner, I clearly remember having dialog with a Republic of Korea liaison military officer.  I spoke  English, while interjecting familiar Korean phrases, confident I was using them correctly.  I came to rely on Hye Chong's help when navigating unfamiliar Korean territory; I asked her if she would accompany me to this annual event. Reserving only a spoon as my silverware, I eschewed the fork, as I had been taught how to use chopsticks by Ajumma.  It always seemed the food tasted better when grasped with chopsticks; I had long passed those early learning sessions where I occasionally  dropped chicken or a yaki mandu dumpling. 

While speaking with the ROK liaison officer, I noticed he would have an amusing smile on his face, seemingly a non sequitur.  He left the table for a few moments; I queried Hye Chong if I, perhaps, had been using my Korean incorrectly.  A big grin spread across her face as she explained he was smiling at the grip I was using with the chopsticks.  Apparently, in a culture with three different ways to say the same thing (close friends, normal social discourse and honorific for elders), there are two ways to grip the chopsticks: an elite and a commoner grip.  I guess Ajumma was not in the elite class; she was gracious and an absolute delight in my life.  I hope she is well.    

I have not changed my chopstick technique, as it serves me well.

Courtesy Patrols:

As a captain with Second Infantry Division, there were those "other duties as assigned".  As such, senior NCO's and commissioned officers were required for Courtesy Patrols.  On a rotational basis, I would walk through the various eateries and clubs, especially where alcohol was served, with an arm band indicating I was a part of said patrol.  Some of these soldiers were getting their first taste of a beer in over thirty days, as their DMZ rotations required.  As a consequence, the rowdy factor is always present.  Military discipline and the soldiers' respect for their chain of command, however, has a calming effect on most developing situations with a superior officer present. 

Before DEI and the Demoncrat's destruction of our military, early symptoms of this malignancy was evident even way back in 1984.   As a Courtesy Patrol officer, I was expecting the occasional fist fight between soldiers, an overt example of unacceptable behavior by the soldier.  There were a few of those situations, but the overwhelming issue was the treatment accorded the Korean population by junior enlisted.  The predominant offender was the young black male soldier.  I cannot remember how many times I interceded in a profanity-filled tirade by a 20 year old in a verbal barrage of Korean civilians, young and old.  

If the young soldier expressed genuine contrition to the offended party, I would provide a brief counselling session.  That was extremely effective with the 2ID soldiers, as they were disciplined infantrymen.

In Yongsan, HQ for Eighth Army, it was a different story.  No Courtesy Patrol there; the Military Police handled things.

As an off duty officer in Yongsan, Itaewon beckoned.  I had my first Wendy's Frosty in months after deploying from Fort Rucker.  Mmmmm...

Unlike TDC, where the embarrassing behavior exhibited by a few soldiers was limited to an audience who was used to that sort of outburst, Itaewon found a lot of incredulous tourists who had never witnessed such behavior.  Extremely embarrassing for Eighth Army, the global audience in Itaewon, especially Europeans who coveted the relatively inexpensive furs offered in this shopping mecca for worldwide travellers, witnessed these foul-mouthed and disrespectful Americans first hand. 

 There were a number of occasions when I was able to enjoy Western food and entertainment (although bands that performed could only be Asian bands unless the United States operated the facility, e.g., the Seoul Garden Hotel.).  I was thankful I was in civilian attire when a stupid American demonstrated this vile behavior.  If I encountered behavior counter to what the UCMJ required demonstrated by a uniformed soldier, I would intervene and present my ID.

Again, unlike TDC, some of these young soldiers were unaware of appropriate protocol when engaged with a superior officer.  There were a couple of situations that were resolved readily, as in TDC.  Several others, in contrast, required the summoning of the MP's and subsequent incarceration in the stockade until final disposition could be accomplished.  Most were separated from the Army.

Sure didn't miss those predawn PT formations:

"Captain Daw", I remember on a number of occasions, "hot coffee and S.O.S. sure are going to be good after this last mile...". I nodded, knowing my first meal was going to be between patients at the only dental clinic at Camp Casey and, for that matter, north of Seoul.  "Bring on that negative 20 degrees...", as I quickly nodded out, given the typical 12 hour work day.  I cannot forget the numerous disappointments I endured when the wind chill factor was only a negative 19 or more.  

One morning, I was not disappointed.  At 25 degrees below, I enjoyed that extra hour of sleep; the S.O.S. was especially delicious that morning.  

Oh, but the pleasures attendant to no PT that day tended to be fleeting, as there was no escaping the duty and requirements of soldiers assigned to the Second Infantry Division.  The Second Medical Battalion was no exception, as it was the only combat-deployed medical battalion in the Army. As I was running to the clinic that morning, my belly full of a great breakfast, I remembered something that diminished my delight of no PT:  it was "that time of the month".

Each month, a ten mile forced march (not always a forced road march) was required after duty hours.  Every month found Bravo Company with a standard fighting load, sometimes in total darkness, marching through mud, brush, dense woodlands and a myriad of paths that were not on easy-to-traverse roads.  Captain Craig Hacker, my company commander, seemed to devise a different and challenging ten miles each and every month.

Robert Frost came to mind - '...the road less traveled...'

I would have preferred that less traveled road - any road, for that matter...

The physical requirements expected of me as an ROTC cadet had been substantially lessened during my four years in dental school.  Every six months at UTC, the cadets were subjected to a six-event evaluation, graded very strictly.  It wasn't a push-up if your chest didn't touch the flattened hand of the instructor grading you.  I can still recall SGM Horne's smiling face when he counted "43, 43, 43..." until I completed the down stroke.  (In a further effort by boys to satirize other boys' names, you might imagine how this Green Beret's surname was pronounced...).  

The success and reputation of the UTC ROTC program, nationally, was a reflection of the incredible cadre.  I had been around a lot of military stud warriors growing up, as my father was a special operator, 11 Bravo and a Drill Sergeant.  My first day as a young cadet quickly found me in an environment where every cadre member (all male - before full integration of the WAC) was Airborne qualified.  SGM Boatwright and SGM Horne were Green Berets and the rest of the cadre were Ranger qualified.  

The first women allowed to participate in collegiate Senior ROTC programs were exempted from those six-event PT tests. Contractual obligation to the US Army wasn't offered until their junior year.  I was in Memphis by that time. After many of those PT tests at UTC, I can most assuredly attest to the fact that it was quite demanding.  

The ROTC Department shared the football field with the UTC football team.  As our PT test progressed, I don't know who were more miserable, us or the UTC football players sweating in the summer heat.

 Starting with the "run, dodge and jump", the cadet would perform a figure-8 around 4 sawhorses, placed in two pairs, separated by a six foot "ditch", as determined by tape placement on the surface of Chamberlain Field.    The number of completed circuits in a two minute period was recorded before the next event which was the inverted crawl of 40 yards.  Again, that time was recorded. Next, the number of rungs negotiated on the horizontal ladder was recorded.  I learned as a freshman to lightly powder my hands, as two minutes on the horizontal ladder produced bleeding blisters. Callouses eventually formed; powder was not required then.  Thanks, God, for the human body's ability to adapt to a changing environment.  (Basic training in the eighties provided ample opportunity for the trainee to use the horizontal ladder, a measure of their upper body strength.  Every trainee had to execute at least one length of the ladder before chow.)  After this event, the fun started.

The number of properly-executed push-ups and sit-ups in a two minute period was recorded.  I also learned as a freshman, accept you are only going to be able to do a certain amount of sit-ups; be careful about trying to max that event with your 56th sit-up.  On that day in September, 1972, upon completion of that phase of my PT test and standing up, I realized the next and last event, the two-mile run (in boots), was not going to go well.  My legs, well conditioned from hundreds of miles of bicycle riding as a youth and squatting behind the plate for years as a catcher, had never failed me.   My quads, however, were now screaming from the exertion I placed upon them with that last sit-up.  "Lift with your legs and perform sit-ups with your abdomen..."

I still hang my head when I recall the first and only failure of a PT test.  Oh, the shame...

Despite this strenuous testing and evaluation of the physical condition of its soldiers in the seventies, replaced with the APFT (Advanced Physical Fitness Test) with different standards for men and women in the 1980's, more was required before the Army would allow cadets to go to Airborne School.  Further upper and lower body strength evidence was required at Fort Benning, as a paratrooper infantryman would need it in order to, for example, evacuate a fellow soldier off the battlefield.  Such combat situations were not expected of every US soldier; the APFT was considered adequate evidence of physical readiness.  Conversely, the physical demands on a paratrooper necessitated the Airborne Physical Fitness Test.  

In addition to the APFT requirement, 12 pull-ups were required as well as 80 deep-knee bends in two minutes.  My legs would now be tested for their ability to handle something I had never done before.  Squatting was second nature (no, Martha not there...) as a baseball catcher, but the ability to perform 80 deep knee bends in a two minute period was daunting.  I clearly remember stepping off my mother and father's front porch subsequent to my first 80 deep knee bend effort and falling to the ground, as those quads rebelled.  

That's OK;  I performed the requirement in under two minutes.

Another departure from tradition: spit-shined shoes.  Corfam low quarters, requiring no polishing, was a welcome change.  

A long requirement of soldiers, however was not changed. Spit-shined boots, although not required, were a reflection, justified or not, of a good soldier. Drill Sergeants, held to the highest standards, always had great well-shined boots.  My father had a standing challenge for his trainees: anyone whose boots were better spit-shined (actually water incorporated with the rubbing motion of the shoe polish) than his would get the day off.  Only one time did this occur; that trainee went on to win the most outstanding trainee of that cycle at Fort Knox. Despite offers to perform this task for my father, the spit-shining of my father's boots remained his responsibility; he trusted no one else to perform this task.

 I must admit that I paid Chogi Boy in Korea to accomplish this task on my Corcoran jump boots.  These fellows had some sort of magic elixir in a cup that produced a "can see yourself in them" shine on the toe of the boot. Unlike the floor wax I used on my Color Guard boots at UTC, it didn't crack after a couple of days. Standard Army boots did not require more than shoe polish and a shine.  That beautiful shine produced by a Chogi Boy seemed to be effortless.  In less than five minutes the steel toes of my Corcorans shined as if I had spent a half hour doing the same. Oh, the secret sauce recipe was protected better than Colonel Sanders' KFC recipe or Coke's formula; this was a substantial business endeavor by kids in Tongduchon, adjacent to Camp Casey.  The cup containing this liquid was covered at all times; no amount of bribery would loosen the lips of these entrepreneurs .  Good for them.

I was pleasantly surprised that PT requirements no longer required boots; running shoes were acceptable. (My thought was if the enemy would allow us to change footwear...)  Further, the six-event two hour PT endurance test had been replaced by the APFT (Advanced Physical Fitness Test) with only 3 events:  push-ups, sit-ups and a two-mile run.  I thought, although this less demanding PT test was welcomed by me, what did it mean for the Army's overall readiness?  My first PT test only increased my concern for that readiness. 

As my father pointed out when I was growing up, what was best for the Army was best for me. Not this time.  

 As the woke forces demanded we treat men and women equally, we must ignore the obvious ramifications of such.  The Army, more pragmatic than the NCAA, recognized females were different than males.  Consequently, female push-ups were performed on their knees.  Further, and even though the musculature required in running is manifested much less in the legs than the upper body, female running time requirements were drastically different than their male counterparts. A much larger percentage of females maxed their PT tests, as opposed to the male soldiers.  

Women's service, with their indispensable role in combat service support units, were an important part of our national defense.  Their integration into the male ranks has reduced our effectiveness.  "Sexual assaults" have exploded since the dissolution of the WAC.  

Many female soldiers have made these assault claims without merit.  The "believe all women" mentality has destroyed the careers of many male soldiers.  As a Captain with the  2d ID, I served on FPA (favorable personnel actions) boards.  I was surprised that blacks and females were given extra "points" for their immutable characteristics.  I had no idea that DEI would become a universal theme decades later.

As an officer, senior NCO's provide the backbone of your command or unit.  Junior enlisted sometimes need measures to adjust their lackluster performance of their duties.  In lieu of a court-martial, reserved for the most serious offenses, an Article Fifteen, as a non-judicial punishment, can be issued.  This, however, is reflected in the soldiers record.  

There are "other duties as assigned" measures that can be taken, so as not to permanently affect

the soldier's career.  As Motor Officer while stationed at Yongsan Garrison, I disciplined one of my privates by assigning her to the Motor Pool for maintenance of  vehicles; she was to be answerable to my Motor Sergeant.  After pouting and openly defiant to her chain of command, she falsely accused the Motor Sergeant of inappropriate groping.   Good old sexual assault, much like Demoncrats  shout "racism" at every turn.

I knew this senior NCO quite well; field deployments allowed me to spend a substantial amount of time with him.  Proud of his beautiful family and a devout Christian, I knew he had been wrongly accused.  My investigation of the matter found no corroborating evidence or witness to any of this made-up story.

I issued her an ultimatum:  separate from the Army and go home or face a court-martial.  She left Korea.

As much as I love America's Got Talent and the performance of The 82nd Airborne Division All American Chorus, I was dismayed to see female soldiers displaying the much-revered 82d Airborne shoulder patch.  Will they be in those night jumps in support of the First Infantry Division?  Can they perform 80 deep-knee bends? Biden's immasculation of the military has been very effective.  Recruiting shortages and a lack of patriotism will doom this nation, I am afraid.

I continue to pray for God to intervene, as the Demoncrats are on the verge of total destruction of our country. Lawfare was the weapon, perhaps, our forefathers didn't fear as much as they should have.  

With Iowa as the first to determine party candidates in 2024, The Manchurian Candidate will not be on the New Hampshire ballot. This is a consequence of his continual pulling of strings in order to increase the Demoncrats' ability to rig elections. We may never recover from the incredible acts of treason committed in the 2020 election.

The Iranian/Manchurian Candidate, depending on his ultra-left coalition of Muslims, Marxists, Communists and especially Blacks, constantly lies about who the enemy is.  With Whitey a perpetual target, he wages war on MAGA (Make America Great Again - wow, such a radical idea...) and the existential threat of the White Supremacist. He performed so poorly last time around in New Hampshire, with a substantially less black population, that he threw out one hundred years of tradition in order to get that Demoncrat James Clyburn's state of South Carolina as first in the nation to cast their "votes".  In view of the fact that Clyburn has been credited as single-handedly handing Biden his "victory", South Carolina was going to be the vanguard for the 2024 "election" and the final nail in the coffin of America.

As with all The Manchurian Candidate's efforts, that, too, ended in failure; he only accomplished not being on the ballot in New Hampshire.  How will this frail, plagiarizing, lying, confused shell of a man continue to vacation in his basement while the Fourth Estate does his bidding and campaigning for him?  

Speaking of the liberal press, why did they cover for Biden's FBI raiding of the home of Project Veritas' James O'Keefe, as part of an investigation into Ashley Biden's 'stolen' diary?

https://www.foxnews.com/media/fbi-raids-home-james-okeefe-ashley-biden-diary-project-veritas

Sure, it's embarrassing when your daughter blames her sex addiction on taking showers with her daddy as a seven year old.  And, of course, when she mistakenly leaves it in a halfway house for her coincidental drug addiction (a common theme in the President of the United States' family...), the knee-jerk response is to raid one of the few conservative voices left, James O'Keefe.

Do not interfere with the inexorable destruction of the greatest country in the history of God's Earth.  Project Veritas had previously reported atrocities that the Fourth Estate would not.  As the husband of an incredible wife who, in today's world, would have been ripped apart in her mother's womb, I am so blessed that God put a "whoa" on that. Lisa's birth mother placed the mother of my children in the home of an incredible lady through adoption services.  Today, Demoncrats overwhelmingly desire - no - demand that killing the most innocent and precious of us all be allowed with no restrictions.  

Bill Clinton has God's vengeance waiting.  I suspect God, already fuming at this disgusting individual, will take the fact that Clinton vetoed a bicameral measure, the Partial-Birth Abortion Ban Act of 1995, to exact his most searing punishment. Kathleen Sebelius, as governor of Kansas, did the same thing.  These people are without conscience and will do anything to keep the abortion industry money flowing.

When a Planned Parenthood (an organization started, by the way, to kill off blacks) staffer was secretly filmed discussing the monetary connection with the dismembering and subsequent selling of dead babies' body parts, the Demoncrats went crazy.  In between bites of her salad, she matter-of-factly presented the murder of the innocents as necessary in order to get these, apparently much coveted, hearts, legs, kidneys, etc., to market.  

Reminds me of the hog killings in North Carolina before the butchering of good old pork. 

Let us not forget the poor, helpless babies slaughtered by suctioning their bodies apart, feeling this unimaginable pain. The spinothalamic tract is the highway for transmission of pain and touch signals and is formed early: 

"Tactile sensations, such as touch and pain, are among the first to be developed during intrauterine life (Table 2). Twin pregnancies allow us to observe the first reactions to touch in utero. Peri-oral region, hands, and lower limbs become touch sensitive at 7.5, 10.5 and 14 weeks of gestation, respectively."

https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S1744165X12000625#preview-section-snippets

At 14 weeks, the baby tries to run from whatever is rendering so much pain.  

Ask the hundreds of patients I have treated over the years, suffering from  excruciating pain originating from just one tooth, if  they have experienced worse pain. They would say "no".  I have witnessed grown men crying in the chair, begging for relief.   Thank God for lidocaine... 

I pray that God has quickly spared those who Jesus loves most from their agony.  I wish one Demoncrat would view an intrauterine video capture of this gruesome event.  Wait a minute, these folks still wouldn't care.  The rights of the woman to choose...  (Which women - the real ones, or the fake ones?)

Liberal lawfare:  Planned Parenthood gets two million dollars on top of untold millions with the slaughter of babies.  "A jury of his peers" convicted The Center for Medical Progress and its founder David Daleiden for revealing this evil practice.  Incredible. 

At any rate, back to one of President Trump's challengers for the GOP nomination, Nikki Haley; she brings to mind the beautiful Palmetto State, South Carolina.  It sure has devolved in recent decades.  This decline parallels the Tarheel State, its northern neighbor, and it's continued decline (except Virginia Foxx - you go, girl!).  This would be a Hatlo's History script, as it drips with irony.  South Carolina's colonization, and entry as one the first thirteen colonies, was predicated on their insistence they be differentiated from the liberals of North Carolina.  They pointed out how difficult governance of one Carolina would prove to be.  Indeed.

If South Carolina thought North Carolina was liberal in 1776, what would they think now?  But wait, South Carolina has also been travelling with the Demoncrat behemoth that has engulfed our nation.  Although I haven't seen a "Kill All Jews" parade yet, the Demoncrats are firmly entrenched here. 

Further irony (Jimmy Hatlo would love this...): Fort Sumter sparked the Civil War, as South Carolina had joined the Confederate States of America.  The South Carolina flag included the Stars and Bars.  Despite the Fourth Estate's constant hyperbole of the Civil War being about slavery, the issue was State's rights vs Federal domination.  An abomination, slavery was found in the North, also.  If the Demoncrats continue beating that dead horse, why don't they focus on the west coast of Africa. Slavery is alive and well there.

The irony that Hatlo's History would appreciate:  Nikki Haley, a Donald Trump backstabber, removed the Stars and Bars from the flag.  Just like that.  Centuries of tradition thrown out, a hallmark of the Demoncrats.  She has been caught in a number of lies and the state of South Carolina deserved better.  Seems more like a Demoncrat to me.  Just saying.  Again, God is in control.

Perhaps the most telling evidence of the dramatic decline in this state which has provided so much for our readiness posture, by training hundreds of thousands of Army soldiers at Fort Jackson, is their unholy alliance with its northern toads.  (Is it still Fort Jackson?  So much Demoncrat  destruction of my father and my military heritage with their flippant and capricious renaming of military installations.  To what end?  I'm surprised Haley hasn't already done so, in light of her removal of the Stars and Bars...)

 Joining a number of other rancid states trying to pull a Pakistan or other third world country maneuver by imprisoning President Trump, the parties behind such surely don't reflect the values of its citizenry.  Does George Soros fund the advocates of this move to remove President Trump from the SC ballot, or is there wholesale voter fraud?  Probably both.  Short of that, disallowing the American people to choose trumps (forgive the pun...) constitutional mandates for the Demoncrats.  No Blue Dogs anymore; the once sane party is now so infected with a consortium of secular, if not outright religion haters, and anti-American trolls it may irreversible.

Fort Jackson:  My father, CSM Ted Daw, as the Command Sergeant Major, was top dog at the installation which trained Drill Instructors; his authority was unquestioned.  Further, his name adorned every entrance to Fort Jackson, alongside the Commanding General.  I was proud to complete my service to the United States Army at this prestigious post.  

The three days I spent out-processing in Columbia, South Carolina, gave me some time to reflect on the fond memories I had of this magnificent installation.  As I was unpacking in the BOQ, I recalled my first visit:  my father's retirement ceremony.   

Slavery, present for thousands of years, finally became a thing of the past over a hundred years ago after those courageous initial strides performed by our 16th president.  Another shout-out to the "Wide Awakes".  As the Demoncrats were assaulting Republicans at President Lincoln's events, these youth paramilitary organizations with crude weapons provided security. Asked before, how did the "Wide Awakes" become displaced with the likes of “the woke”? 

My, that evil behavior by the Demoncrats in 1860 has only metastasized to the greatest threat our country has ever faced.  A facet of that danger is, unlike decades of clearly knowing who was perpetuating their vile dogma, such as the hippies in the 1960's, that evil can be veiled, hidden behind a gorgeous smile.  Nikki Haley has clearly dropped the charade with her constant derision of President Trump.  One would think she would be grateful that President Trump gave this ingrate a cushy United Nations (which should be kicked out of the United States) position.  To quote President Trump, she was "OK". 

Immersed in the ultra anti-Semetic and anti-American culture of the United Nations, she was (can't help myself), as my granddaddy would say, "like a pig in s*!t...". 

Nikki Haley was quite comfortable with her roost in this cesspool, surrounded by global elite and haters of the United States who, incidentally, picks up 80 % of the tab.  I have always wondered how we joined a club that gave veto power to Russia and China?

Decades have seen billions of US taxpayer money funding folks who hate us.  More significantly, this has provided nourishment to those evil souls who hate God, Jews and Christians, spread worldwide.  Their unabashed and overt support of Hamas in their massacre of babies on 7 October should dictate that UNWRA, yet another tentacle of the United Notions (as I refer to them:  their notions for world peace, etc., inevitably become another suckling for the teat of the United States...) be designated a 'terrorist organization'.  The United Nations building should be bulldozed and replaced by the HQ of another.  A new organization of allied countries, each of which a part of the synergistic effort to counter China in a collaborative operation with the United States, could stop the Belt and Road Initiative.

The name of this organization is only speculative, but their official theme song could be found in 

 "Team America: World Police".  Just saying. 

Peel back the onion and there is the odiferous stench of "woke".  Touting a Judge Judy endorsement is akin to Jeffrey Dahmer endorsing the Impossible Whopper. The "judge" is a long time Demoncrat (as are 95% of lawyers...); she has enjoyed rubbing shoulders with the New Hampshire Trump-hating RINO Sununu. When he made the statement that Tim Scott, an incredible senator from SC who had just endorsed President Trump: "He wouldn't have a job if it wasn't for Nikki."  Another defect in Demoncrats is their ability to sublimate their own universal hypocracy, as evidenced by their lack of self-awareness.  If not for his father, Sununu would be nothing but a "spoiled rich kid", as President Trump referred to him, an appropriate tag for this RINO.  His father, a decent man and chief of staff for President George H. W. Bush earned his deserved reputation.

Junior isn't totally at fault.  I imagine it would be impossible not to have that forever unctuous personality. Osmosis would have allowed it to seep into him from chronic exposure to his peers: spoiled rich kids.  Liberals had conquered New Hampshire; he is merely reflecting his environmental damage.  Deep blue NH reminds me of a tick on my dog's hindquarters.  All his scratching won't detach this blood-sucking parasite; their toxins spread, potentially infecting the whole body...

Speaking of someone being in their position because of an act of another, take a look at Judy.  Judge Wapner paved the way for her and others. Another example of Demoncrat hypocrisy.

An anecdote:

I remember when the trailblazer Judge Wapner was popular in the 1980's.  The People's Court was an immediate success with millions of fans. I recall my mother, a head nurse at the VA hospital in Jackson, MS, with a smile as she shared encounters with a physician with whom she provided services to our veterans.  This man was a talented and quite busy surgeon who would kind of shake his head while indicating to my mother his mild envy of his brother, Doug Llewelyn, host for The People's Court.  It seems that this highly accomplished surgeon, the son of physicians, was earning a fraction of the compensation received by his non-physician brother. It was a quite popular show. 

At first, I was surprised at Brigadier General Donald Bolduc's endorsement of Haley.  I felt he was above the fray, field officers scrambling for the much-coveted stars of a general officer.  A little recon, however, revealed this RINO (with emphasis, no reflection of his sterling and admirable military career) had sought President Trump's endorsement in his 2020 NH senate run.  The endorsement went to his rival, Corky Messner.  As it turned out, that was a decision the former president came to regret, as Corky morphed into an establishment favorite RINO.

A second run in 2022 didn't garner an endorsement from the former president, as he endorsed no one. The general did, however, defeat Messner and was considered "far right" by the Fourth Estate.  Perhaps the general's endorsement of this "queen of misinformation", AKA a chronic racist liar, can be attributed to that osmotic effect that affects all liberals in their echo chambers.  Inescapable, even the most stalwart can be infected.

As Haley's inevitable embarrassment increases with her futile attempt to wrestle away President Trump's support from his conservative base becomes more apparent, so do her attacks and lies. 

Like a cornered animal, caution starts to go to the wind; small mistakes and a crack in the facade of "conservative" has become evident.  Wait, the same thing is happening to her fellow Demoncrats; the frequency of "white supremacist" slurs and racial animus is exploding exponentially.  This maelstrom of fear and panic has pulled the cloak back such that everything is exposed:

"From the river to the sea..." chants, once only whispered in secluded gatherings of this manifestly evil culture, now is on full display at "elite universities".  The Demoncrats must enlist their Arab buddies and the coalition of the worst of us.  Burning babies alive - no problem.  Biden, groveling at the Altar of Climate Change, now must "feed the beast" with his announcement of vetoing aid to Israel if they do not suspend their rightful eradication of Hamas.  

Joseph Robinette Biden - what a collection of deeds worthy of centuries of historical retrospect.  Will the genesis of this traitorous activity over decades be revealed?  Follow the money.

  Carter looks super in comparison.  Obama ...  never mind.  

This wonderful lady would read to Denise and let me read to her, as well.  She had dinner with us on occasion; we did the same at her home.  No racial animosity - only love for each other.  Further, as a student in eight different schools spread across five states and the Pacific Ocean, I never saw any of the crap Nikki Haley is spewing. Attending mostly schools located on Army posts, racism just wasn't evident.  The only time I remember a name associated with race was my good friend in the second grade at Fort Carson, Blackie.  

This was not a perjorative; had it been so, an alternate nickname would have been used.  One constant while growing up:  the playground was the ultimate pleasure; it was not to be messed with.  Friendship was paramount, as we all were from disparate backgrounds and would soon be parting ways.  That inevitability furthered the bond we had with each other.  I distinctly remember Blackie’s big smile, always happy.  

By the way, I was "cracker".

When my father was sent to combat in Vietnam, we moved to North Carolina for my 7th and 8th grades.  One of my girlfriends did have a member of the Klan in her family; her grandfather was Robert Jones, Grand Dragon of the North Carolina Knights of the Ku Klux Klan.  I never sensed she had any racial issues while holding her hand during those still-remembered walks around the playground during recess.  We both had black friends there.        

Let's keep God in our corner; His help is going be necessary.  Maybe Jesus will come and perform an exorcism on the Demoncrats as He did with the pigs in the Bible...