Reminder to 0bama and Holder Employees

COMPUTER TRESPASS---RCW 9A.52.110---Computer trespass in the first degree.

(1) A person is guilty of computer trespass in the first degree if the person, without authorization, intentionally gains access to a computer system or electronic database of another; and (a) The access is made with the intent to commit another crime; or (b) The violation involves a computer or database maintained by a government agency.

(2) Computer trespass in the first degree is a class C felony.

National Debt Counter -- Thank the Stimulus Bill

You Are Never As Anonymous As You Think!

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Saturday, December 31, 2005

My "ah ha" experience

I have two blogs. For today I direct you to my latest post on the other blog.

I hope you find it extremely interesting.

However to post comments, you'll need to use THIS blog.

Happy New Year! May 2006 be a year you can look back on and smile. God Bless You in 2006 and forever.
-- Auntie Coosa and Casey the WonderDog.

Wednesday, December 28, 2005

He's not my Cocker any longer!

If you've been following the saga of Crockett Nicolas, then you know that on September 3, 2005, he was run over by a hit and run. I have mourned his loss. I have grieved deeply. I have prayed many prayers.

Sunday before Christmas, I prayed and gave Crockett to Jesus' mother, Mary. As a Catholic, we revere her as Theotokos -- mother of our Lord Jesus. She is the mother we cling to when our own birth mothers cannot or will not offer us succor and comfort.

We ask her to join us in prayer requests we make to her Son. If you're not Catholic, that may make no sense. "I go straight to Jesus when I pray." Well, we do, too, but we have His Blessed Mother assisting us. It's like asking your sibling or parent to accompany you when you go ask an elder brother or your father for something. So maybe it makes some sense after all? It's nice to know you can have someone standing with you when you make a request. Especially if that request is made to God through His Son, Jesus. And especially if that someone is Jesus' own mother.

I was driving to Vigil Mass on Saturday before Christmas, thinking of Crockett, as I usually do, and the thought came to me that I could release Crockett to the Blessed Mother. (God gives us the desires of our hearts. Doesn't mean God gives us the desires we put in our hearts. It means God puts His desires in our hearts.) So I prayed a simple prayer, "giving" Crockett to Mary, the Mother of Jesus. After Vigil Mass, driving to pick up my cousin for our usual weekly evening out, my heart felt 'lighter' and my spirit was more joyful.

Each day during the week, I thought of my gift to the Blessed Mother and how giving Crockett to her to care for brought closure to my grief. On Friday morning, prior to waking, I had a very vivid dream. In full and living color. It was daylight. I was standing in the drive, near to where Crockett was run over. Crockett was there in front of me and was about to walk out into the road (where the blood stain was still visible). I called to him "Crockett Nicolas, get back here!" He turned his head and looked at me with a very curious look. Suddenly, I was seated on the front steps and Crockett jumped into my lap. He put his haunches on each leg and his paws were on my shoulders. I was staring straight into that lighter 'bib' on his chest. And I noticed, he was not wearing a collar or tag.

Crockett is not mine any longer. I love him forever. That will never change. But he's not mine. He belongs to Mary, the Mother of Jesus. He is hers. And he showed me that in the dream. The collar I purchased and the rabies tag from the Veterinarian's office are gone. He roams heaven and doesn't worry about cars.

Driving back from Florida on Tuesday after Christmas (where I'd gone over Christmas vacation), I looked up and saw a cloud in the sky in the shape of a woman with a head-covering, feeding treats to the shape of a dog. I immediately knew the dog was Crockett. And I assumed the shape of the woman was me. Wrong assumption. I looked again and the clouds moved so that the lips of the woman changed and appeared to be 'saying' something. And what my heart heard was that the cloud-woman was Mary, the Blessed Mother. She was giving treats to Crockett. After all, Crockett is her dog now.

If it's a sun dog, is it Crockett? Or have you, too, given a dog to the care of Mary, Theotokos?

If you look closely, on the left near the bottom corner, facing you, you'll see the form of a woman and a cat on the woman's left (your right) at the middle bottom of the image. What else do you see? Let your heart guide you.

The Mary who laid her Baby in a cradle in a stable loves all animals. If you are grieving the loss of an animal, consider offering that animal to the care of Jesus' Mother, Mary.

Wednesday, December 21, 2005

Merry Christmas

DUCCIO di Buoninsegna (b. ca. 1255, Siena, d. 1319, Siena)
Tempera on wood, 43,5 x 44,5 cm
National Gallery of Art, Washington

(I'm going to Panama City, Florida, for Christmas. I'll be back before the first of the year to continue blogging. Hope you have a Merry Christmas and that the Reason for the Season is also your Savior.)

Saturday, December 17, 2005


by Michael Marks

I had no Christmas spirit when I breathed a weary sigh,
And looked across the table where the bills were piled too high.

The laundry wasn't finished and the car I had to fix,
My stocks were down another point, the Chargers lost by six.

And so with only minutes till my son got home from school
I gave up on the drudgery and grabbed a wooden stool.

The burdens that I carried were about all I could take,
And so I flipped the TV on to catch a little break.

I came upon a desert scene in shades of tan and rust,
No snowflakes hung upon the wind, just clouds of swirling dust.

And where the reindeer should have stood before a laden sleigh,
Eight Humvees ran a column right behind an M1A.

A group of boys walked past the tank, not one was past his teens
Their eyes were hard as polished flint, their faces drawn and lean.

They walked the street in armor with their rifles shouldered tight,
Their dearest wish for Christmas, just to have a silent night.

Other soldiers gathered, hunkered down against the wind,
To share a scrap of mail and dreams of going home again

There wasn't much at all to put their lonely hearts at ease,
They had no Christmas turkey, just a pack of MREs.

They didn't have a garland or a stocking I could see,
They didn't need an ornament--they lacked a Christmas tree.

They didn't have a present even though it was tradition,
The only boxes I could see were labeled "ammunition."

I felt a little tug and found my son now by my side,
He asked me what it was I feared, and why it was I cried.

I swept him up into my arms and held him oh so near
And kissed him on the forehead as I whispered in his ear.

"There's nothing wrong, my little son, for safe we sleep tonight
Our heroes stand on foreign land to give us all the right,

To worry on the things in life that mean nothing at all,
Instead of wondering if we will be the next to fall."

He looked at me as children do and said, "it's always right,
To thank the ones who help us and perhaps that we should write."

And so we pushed aside the bills and sat to draft a note,
To thank the many far from home, and this is what we wrote:

"God bless you all and keep you safe, and speed your way back home.
Remember that we love you so, and that you're not alone.

The gift you give you share with all, a present every day,
You give the gift of liberty and that we can't repay."

"I freely submit this poem for reprint without reservation--this is an open
and grateful tribute to the men and women who serve every day to keep our
nation safe." ~ Michael Marks

The Professor's Question

Did God Create Evil?

A university professor challenged his students with this question:

Did God create everything that exists? "

A student bravely replied "Yes, he did!"

"God created everything?" the professor asked.

"Yes sir," the student replied.

The professor answered, "If God created everything, then God created evil since evil exists, and according to the principal that our works define who we are, then God is evil." The professor was quite pleased with himself and boasted to the students that he had proven once more that the Christian faith was a myth.

Another student raised his hand and said, "Can I ask you a question professor?"

"Of course," replied the professor.

The student stood up and asked, "Professor does cold exist?"

The professor replied "Of course it exists. Have you never been cold?"

The students snickered at the young man's question. The young man replied, "In fact sir, cold does not exist. According to the laws of physics, what we consider cold is in reality the absence of heat. Everybody or object is susceptible to study when it has or transmits energy, and heat is what makes a body or matter have or transmit energy. Absolute zero (- 460 degrees F) is the total absence of heat. Cold does not exist. We have created this word to describe how we feel if we have no heat.

The student continued. "Professor, does darkness exist?"

The professor responded, "Of course it does."

The student replied, "Once again you are wrong sir. Darkness does not exist either. Darkness is in reality the absence of light. Light we can study, but not darkness. In fact we can use Newton's prism to break white light into many colors and study the various wavelengths of each color. You cannot measure darkness. A simple ray of light can break into a world of darkness and illuminate it. How can you know how dark a certain space is? You measure the amount of light present. Isn't this correct? Darkness is a term used by man to describe what happens when there is no light present."

Finally the young man asked the professor. "Sir, does evil exist?"

Now uncertain, the professor responded, "Of course as I have already said. We see it every day. It is in the daily example of man's inhumanity to man. It is in the multitude of crime and violence we see everywhere in the world. These manifestations are nothing else but evil."

To this the student replied, "Evil does not exist sir, or at least does not exist unto itself. Evil is simply the absence of God. It is just like darkness and cold, a word that man has created to describe the absence of God. God did not create evil. Evil is the result of what happens when man does not have God's love present in his heart. It's like the cold that comes when there is no heat or the darkness that comes when there is no light."

The professor sat down.

The young man's name --- Albert Einstein.

Thursday, December 08, 2005

Seize the Day, but Capture the Moment

I've been told that I think too much.

Two people have told me this. My own Mother and one of my best friends.

So of course, this got me to thinking.

And they're right. It's either a genetic characteristic or a deeply ingrained habit. If it's a habit, it can be broken. If it's genetic, then it's something I'll have to decide to overcome.

I got to thinking deeper and realized that both my Mother and my best friend are 'seize the day, but capture the moment' people. More deep thought leads me to the probable conclusion that my Father is (and both sets of Grandparents were) also 'seize the day, but capture the moment' people.

Which of course led me into even deeper thought -- and a revelation. Somewhere along the journey of life, my train got on a side-track headed for no-where always thinking but never enough 'time' to do.

I am by nature a helper, a rescuer, a resolver of the present conflict. That's why I'm so good at what I do. But I am also a slug. Not a bullet, the slimy mollusk. The innards of a snail. A slug. Maybe also I'm like a bullet-slug, too. (Again, too much thinking going on here.)

I actually DO think too much.

I don't DO because I'm spending my DO time thinking too much.

My parents, children and best friends will all nod their collective heads reading this post.

So, what do I do with this newly garnered revelation? How do I assimilate it into my being, my personality, my 'ethic' (if you will) of living? THAT is the question. And what is your final answer? More thinking? Bllleeeeeep, wrong. The answer is "less thinking, more doing."

So how will this change, this paradigm shift, occur? Will it be a painless change? (There are very few painless changes in life.)

First, I'll have to think about not thinking so much. Then, I'll have to 'do' without 'thinking about the doing.' The 'thinking about thinking too much' will be the final curtain call (oh, there will be encores, I'm sure) of thinking-too-much.

My Mother has been trying to tell me this for years but it wasn't getting through because my brain was too busy 'thinking.' My train was on a side-track. If you know anything about trains, you know that there are two kinds of 'side-tracks.' One has a dead end. One merges back onto the main track.

So, I have a choice to make: crash into the dead-end or merge back into the main track.

Do you think I should 'think about it?' Nooo???

Seize the day, but capture the moment.

This is going to take a bit of time to become a fully ingrained habit (the train is long, old and slow). And merging onto the main track means there will be the 'bump' at the merge. I may do something I'll regret later, like toss out something that I end up really needing. But what are the odds of that? "If you haven't worn it in the past two years, give it to the (domestic violence) Thrift Store." (Exception: if it has significant meaning, keep it.) All the copies of things I made from the internet years ago - - trash. (This is the painful part. Mama, it hurts! It hurts because trashing all those papers means that I made copies needlessly, recklessly, using up precious resources of ink and paper!) (I can already hear the patter of my feet running down the tiled hallway of the mental ward in the hospital as I am screaming at the top of my lungs: NNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, don't throw that out!)

CAN I even 'DO' such a drastic thing? Can I even 'toss' with abandon what I have so eagerly clutched for so long? Will I end up running down the hallway of the hospital mental ward, screaming my head off, because all my 'clutter' priceless possessions have been taken to the County dumping station?

This is major surgery y'all. And *I* am the surgeon AND the patient. This is no 'walk in the park.' (Mom, the English Major, will enjoy the mixed metaphors.) I'm 61 years old. This is a deeply ingrained habit. (If it were a genetic trait, do you think I could apply for minority status?) (Apparently humor IS a genetic trait.)

I look around my house. Yikes. I have accumulated a lot of dust, dog hair, and debris (like the alliteration there?) of many years. I've been in this house since Christmas 1998 -- and amazingly, it's nearly Christmas 2005 and I have received this revelation: Seize the Day, but Capture the Moment.

You getting chill bumps yet?

If you've read the blog, you know that I recently lost the dearest thing to my heart, Crockett, my buff colored Cocker Spaniel. He came into my life for 22 very beautiful months. But I have to admit, they were months spent 'thinking' too much. I didn't seize the day. I failed to capture the moment. And then Crockett was run over, just 3 months ago, and my heart broke. Out of Crockett's death have emerged, like a phoenix, many blessings. I have two dearest friends, willing to confront me about my sluggish ways and to stick with me while I clutch onto the fragments of my disordered existence.

Seize the Day, but Capture the Moment. This is not going to be easy. Should I maybe 'think about it' a bit longer?

{Chorus of voices in background: NOOOOOOO! Just DO it!}

Taking a deep breath . . . I . . . yi . . . yi . . . yi . . . yi.

Wednesday, December 07, 2005

Tuesday, December 06, 2005

Islam's Children Cry . . . for Peace

There is no winner in this war!
We scream as jets roar overhead
Drowning out our plaintive cries
. . . for Peace.

We do not wish this battle, we wail
As bursting bombs crumple cityscapes
And imploding buildings sink into sand
. . . not Peace.

Where is Islam's Prophet? Oh where are our Imams?
Whose voice can we hear over this cacophony?
Where are the placards marching in the streets
. . . for Peace.

Why must children suffer for the hostilities
Of their fathers and their countrymen?
Why cannot our fathers become friends
. . . in Peace?

If our fathers refuse to love us more
Than they hate our neighbors' children,
Then it is we who must stand up
. . . for Peace.

Can you lay aside your reasons for conflict?
Can you stop the roar long enough to hear
The songs of all the world's children? Songs
. . . of Peace.

There is no justification for terrorism!
Do not blame our religion, our race.
Are our national leaders speaking the words
. . . of Peace?

Fathers, prove your love to us this day!
Lay your hate and guns aside and come!
Come sing with us and dance the dance
. . . of Peace.

Copyright C.E.Donaldson 2005

Monday, December 05, 2005

This is a Must Read

I'm going to give you a couple snippets to whet your appetite.
From The Daily Standard
Most public discussion of donor insemination for single women has been carried on in a neutral, positive, or breathlessly celebratory tone.
European countries are skeptical enough to actually ban the process. Sweden and Italy bar single mothers from engaging in either in vitro fertilization or use of anonymous sperm (or, in Italy, eggs), and Britain and the Netherlands have banned the anonymous donation of sperm.
A story in the New York Times last month reported that donor-conceived children check out strange men to see if they match the physical traits of their donor dads. "It'll always run through my mind whether he meets the criteria to be my dad or not," said JoEllen, a girl from Russell, Pennsylvania.
Young adults voice similar sentiments. Olivia Pratten, a 23-year-old Canadian conceived through donor insemination, told the Toronto Globe and Mail about her fatherless life: "I had to grieve. It wasn't till I was 17 or 18 that I got it. I felt very angry. How dare someone take my choice away from me? How dare the medical profession tell me it doesn't matter?" And a 15-year-old boy profiled recently in the New Scientist was so determined to find his father that he submitted a sample of his own DNA to an online DNA-testing service. He was able to match it to a family surname and from there to track down his dad. Young people with less ingenuity are probably out of luck. U.S. law does not regulate donor insemination, and most donors choose anonymity, making it very difficult to find them.
Our report, Why Marriage Matters (available at the website of the Institute for American Values), found that children reared in single-parent homes are two to three times more likely to face serious negative emotional, social, or health outcomes than children reared in intact, married families. These findings apply up and down the social ladder. They also apply in societies with generous welfare systems like Sweden, where poverty for single mothers is largely a nonissue.
It appears that children are even affected physically by father absence. Pioneering work by Bruce Ellis suggests that the timing of puberty in girls is linked to the presence of a biological father: Girls who grow up without their biological fathers experience puberty (and therefore are likely to have sex) at significantly younger ages than girls who grow up with their fathers.
Why do fathers matter to children? Fathers typically bring an extra pair of hands, an extra set of kin, and extra income to the child-rearing enterprise, not to mention extra concern for the child's well-being. They also perform better than mothers when it comes to disciplining their children--especially their sons. Finally, fathers who are in good marriages with the mothers of their children implicitly teach girls to expect respect from members of the opposite sex, and boys to treat girls and women with respect.
For all these reasons, it is time to bring children's welfare into the discussion of donor-assisted single motherhood. A serious consideration of children's best interests would probably lead us down a regulatory road comparable to that being pursued in Europe, with bans on the donor-insemination of single women and on the anonymous donation of sperm and eggs.

Can a hedonistic society be reined in when it comes to fatherless pregnancies and fatherless children? Or will "single women" suddenly become the "victim-du-jour" and demand their "rights" to become pregnant by anonymous sperm donors?

Found in a Pakistani School Book

The poem, not the background, was found in a 2004 printing of a Pakistani school book. It won't be in the next printing. More's the pity.

Saturday, December 03, 2005

Three full months

Today is December 3. On September 3, at about 12:15 AM, Crockett was run over.

I don't understand why. I do trust that "in the fullness of time, God . . ." and that since He is in control as Lord of my life, Crockett served his purpose on earth and is now my "heavenly puppy" guard-dog.

A lot of things changed abruptly when Crockett died. Choices I'd made. Friends I didn't know I had. My future. My heart. A lot changed.

I think that the way I comprehend has changed too. There are people I want in my life. I choose to surround myself with kind and mature people with whom I share common interests. Emphasis on kind and mature. Positive influences who challenge me to be. (To be? What? Just "to be" -- to grow into the kind and mature person I am becoming.)

Oh, and to clean house and stay off the computer so much.

See, it's three months, and I'm grinning, even if I'm still in mourning. Thank you, N&K: best and true friends. (May everyone find best and true friends in her life.)

Friday, December 02, 2005

Natives and "Conservation"

By reading the article (click on the picture above), the reader will gain a broader understanding of "original conservation."

READ MY DISCLAIMER. I am not supporting Orion Online. I'm just saying that this article is good and it looks at how 'conservation' affects native peoples in their own lands.

It's worth a read and some deep thought.

Thursday, December 01, 2005

Ten Months from TODAY!

I will be sleeping in and enjoying RETIREMENT!!!!!!!!

Islam Coexist? Muhammed said "Never!"

Islam Coexist?  Muhammed said "Never!"
Thanks al_c
"We love death. The United States loves life. That is the big difference between us." – Osama bin Laden
"I have been made victorious through terror." Muhammad, founder of Muhammadism now called Islam (Submit or Die)

Barack Obama Says He Lacks Experience To Be U.S. President

And HERE he proves it.

Obama calls it "My Muslim Faith" and This Raises More Questions

George Stephanopoulos tries to correct Obama when he says "my Muslim faith" but it wasn't a gaffe and Obama corrects Stephanopoulos. The Question is: Why say "MY Muslim faith" first? He went back to correct Stephanopoulos, but again "MY Muslim faith" was used. WHY?

Obama is to the USofA as Castro was to Cuba!

Patriots For Action dot org