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Nixon, Ford, Carter, Reagan - a Mount Rushmore of incompetence.

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Adrienne Vittadini

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Rudyard Kipling

Ford O' Kabul River

Kabul town's by Kabul river --
Blow the bugle, draw the sword --
There I lef' my mate for ever,
Wet an' drippin' by the ford.
Ford, ford, ford o' Kabul river,
Ford o' Kabul river in the dark!
There's the river up and brimmin', an' there's 'arf a squadron swimmin'
'Cross the ford o' Kabul river in the dark.

Kabul town's a blasted place --
Blow the bugle, draw the sword --
'Strewth I sha'n't forget 'is face
Wet an' drippin' by the ford!
Ford, ford, ford o' Kabul river,
Ford o' Kabul river in the dark!
Keep the crossing-stakes beside you, an' they will surely guide you
'Cross the ford o' Kabul river in the dark.

Kabul town is sun and dust --
Blow the bugle, draw the sword --
I'd ha' sooner drownded fust
'Stead of 'im beside the ford.
Ford, ford, ford o' Kabul river,
Ford o' Kabul river in the dark!
You can 'ear the 'orses threshin', you can 'ear the men a-splashin',
'Cross the ford o' Kabul river in the dark.

Kabul town was ours to take --
Blow the bugle, draw the sword --
I'd ha' left it for 'is sake --
'Im that left me by the ford.
Ford, ford, ford o' Kabul river,
Ford o' Kabul river in the dark!
It's none so bloomin' dry there; ain't you never comin' nigh there,
'Cross the ford o' Kabul river in the dark?

Kabul town'll go to hell --
Blow the bugle, draw the sword --
'Fore I see him 'live an' well --
'Im the best beside the ford.
Ford, ford, ford o' Kabul river,
Ford o' Kabul river in the dark!
Gawd 'elp 'em if they blunder, for their boots'll pull 'em under,
By the ford o' Kabul river in the dark.

Turn your 'orse from Kabul town --
Blow the bugle, draw the sword --
'Im an' 'arf my troop is down,
Down an' drownded by the ford.
Ford, ford, ford o' Kabul river,

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Trash Bag

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Fitration Bags

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Smooth And Amiable, Opaque

Smooth and amiable, opaque,
with facades like scrims, genteel,
my friends are ones you ought to take
unseriously, and for a meal
just when you think you’ve nothing better
to do, like watching television,
or sending the White House a letter,
or working out with great precision
your taxes for another audit.
Should it be that you don’t wish
to do these things and can afford it,
invite your friends to where the fish
is tastier than what you eat
at home, and then, when you come back,
resolve that you will not repeat
such invitations till you crack,
or there is nothing on TV,
and you’re not writing letters to
the President––since you can see,
unusually, his point of view––
and you’ve heard from the IRS
that you don’t owe them––this time! ––taxes.
At times like these your friends, I guess,
won’t cause you anticlimaxes.

Inspired by an article in the NYT Book Review, by Ross Dothat, January 18,2009 (“When Buckley Met Reagan”) :
On the night that William F. Buckley met Ronald Reagan, the future president of the United States put his elbow through a plate-glass window. The year was 1961, and the two men were in Beverly Hills, where Buckley, perhaps the most famous conservative in America at the tender age of 35, was giving an address at a school auditorium. Reagan, a former Hollywood leading man dabbling in political activism — the Tim Robbins or Alec Baldwin of his day — had been asked to do the introductions. But the microphone was dead, the technician was nowhere to be found and the control room was locked. As the crowd began to grumble, Reagan coolly opened one of the auditorium windows, stepped onto a ledge two stories above the street and inched his way around to the control room. He smashed his elbow through the glass and clambered in through the broken window. “In a minute there was light in the upstairs room, ” Buckley later wrote, “and then we could hear the crackling of the newly animated microphone.” This anecdote kicks off The Reagan I Knew (Basic Books, $25) , a slight and padded reminiscence published posthumously this past autumn, nine months after Buckley’s death. As a personal portrait of the 40th president, the narrative is sketchy at best: the Reagan whom Buckley knew turns out to be the Reagan most of his friends and allies knew — amiable, smooth and ultimately opaque.
What the book does offer, though, is an expansion on the theme lurking in that opening vignette, in which the man of ideas came face to face with the man of action, and the intellectual famous for describing the world met the future president eager to change it. At its most interesting, “The Reagan I Knew” provides a case study on the relationship between intellectuals and power, and specifically on the marriage between right-wing thinkers and populist politicians that has defined the modern right from the Goldwater era to our own. This union occasioned a great deal of comment during 2008, which turned out to be an annus horribilis for conservatism, and little of it was positive. Populism’s corrosive influence on the conservative mind — or the conservative mind’s cynical manipulation of populism — was cited in briefs against Sarah Palin, against the record of George W. Bush and against the entire run of conservative governance going back to Richard Nixon. Sometimes it was liberals arguing that an earlier generation of high-minded conservatives (Buckley being the prime example) would be horrified by the anti-intellectual spirit that had overtaken their movement in the age of Bush and Palin. Sometimes it was conservatives, your David Frums and Peggy Noonans, hinting at the same. And sometimes it was left-wingers — like Rick Perlstein, in his teeming history “Nixonland” — arguing that conservatives had always been cynical manipulators of populist sentiment: the mask might have slipped a bit more in the Bush era, but beneath the genteel facade provided by wordsmiths like Buckley (or William Safire or George Will or whomever) , the modern right has been Palins all the way down.

1/18/09

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Campaigner

I am a lonely visitor.
I came too late to cause a stir,
Though I campaigned all my life towards that goal.
I hardly slept the night you wept
Our secrets safe and still well kept
Where even richard nixon has got soul.
Even richard nixon has got
Soul.
Traffic cops are all color blind.
People steal from their own kind.
Evening comes to early for a stroll.
Down neon streets the streaker streaks.
The speaker speaks, but the truth still leaks,
Where even richard nixon has got soul.
Even richard nixon has got it,
Soul.
The podium rocks in the crowded waves.
The speaker talks of the beautiful saves
That went down long before he played this role
For the hotel queens and the magazines,
Test tube genes and slot machines
Where even richard nixon got soul.
Even richard nixon has got it,
Soul.
Hospitals have made him cry,
But theres always a free way in his eye,
Though his beach just got to crowded for his stroll.
Roads stretch out like healthy veins,
And wild gift horses strain the reins,
Where even richard nixon has got soul.
Even richard nixon has got
Soul.
I am a lonely visitor.
I came too late to cause a stir,
Though I campaigned all my life towards that goal.

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Dear Mrs. Reagan

Dear mrs. reagan, i hope you're feeling well
Fighting drugs and abortion will keep you out of hell
Send in the troops, they'll shut the system down
Take away their leaders and replace them all with clowns
Out in the rose garden, time for a speech
Make up your face so it looks like a peach
Aw, nancy dear, what shall i say?
Tell ole ronnie it's all ok.
Oh mrs reagan, mrs reagangun your husband downyou'll collect insurancemake our country sounddear mrs reagan, gun your husband down,save us from this awful fategeorge bush will be our next president!dear mr reagan, your hair is really swellbuy another missile and damn the poor to hellpump up our resources,you'll make us strong abroadforeign country leadersknow that you're a fraudoh ron, you're such a patriotwe think that you're an idioteverybody's singing this timeoh mrs reagan, mrs reagan, gun your husband down,don't this let injustice reign,it's ron you must uncrownoh mrs reagan, gun your husband downsend him out to pasturehis brain cannot be found

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Rob Ford 2... Nov 29th,2012

ROB FORD 2... Nov 29th,2012
by
James Bredin


If we don't get Rob Ford back as mayor; we're ruined for sure,
God only knows what the other idiots will do to make us poor,
They might like insite clinics or those doing drugs and crack,
Therefore we need Rob Ford in office to keep Toronto on track.


We like Rob Ford because he's our kinda good guy,
The left-wingers didn't like him and forced him to say goodbye,
Used the courts and a judge to force him out the door,
As if Rob Ford was some sort of criminal bore.


The media has been filled with Rob Ford stuff for several weeks,
Telling Rob Ford stories and his various techniques,
Which goes to show that some can be a very vindictive bunch,
If they get the keys to Rob Ford's office, we will feel the crunch.

Nov 29th,2012

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Roan Stallion

The dog barked; then the woman stood in the doorway, and hearing
iron strike stone down the steep road
Covered her head with a black shawl and entered the light rain;
she stood at the turn of the road.
A nobly formed woman; erect and strong as a new tower; the
features stolid and dark
But sculptured into a strong grace; straight nose with a high bridge,
firm and wide eyes, full chin,
Red lips; she was only a fourth part Indian; a Scottish sailor had
planted her in young native earth,
Spanish and Indian, twenty-one years before. He had named her
California when she was born;
That was her name; and had gone north.
She heard the hooves and
wheels come nearer, up the steep road.
The buckskin mare, leaning against the breastpiece, plodded into
sight round the wet bank.
The pale face of the driver followed; the burnt-out eyes; they had
fortune in them. He sat twisted
On the seat of the old buggy, leading a second horse by a long
halter, a roan, a big one,
That stepped daintily; by the swell of the neck, a stallion. 'What
have you got, Johnny?' 'Maskerel's stallion.
Mine now. I won him last night, I had very good luck.' He was
quite drunk, 'They bring their mares up here now.
I keep this fellow. I got money besides, but I'll not show you.'
'Did you buy something, Johnny,
For our Christine? Christmas comes in two days, Johnny.' 'By
God, forgot,' he answered laughing.
'Don't tell Christine it's Christmas; after while I get her something,
maybe.' But California:
'I shared your luck when you lost: you lost me once, Johnny, remember?
Tom Dell had me two nights
Here in the house: other times we've gone hungry: now that
you've won, Christine will have her Christmas.
We share your luck, Johnny. You give me money, I go down to
Monterey to-morrow,
Buy presents for Christine, come back in the evening. Next day
Christmas.' 'You have wet ride,' he answered
Giggling. 'Here money. Five dollar; ten; twelve dollar. You
buy two bottles of rye whiskey for Johnny.'
A11 right. I go to-morrow.'
He was an outcast Hollander; not
old, but shriveled with bad living.
The child Christine inherited from his race blue eyes, from his
life a wizened forehead; she watched
From the house-door her father lurch out of the buggy and lead
with due respect the stallion
To the new corral, the strong one; leaving the wearily breathing
buckskin mare to his wife to unharness.

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Gareth And Lynette

The last tall son of Lot and Bellicent,
And tallest, Gareth, in a showerful spring
Stared at the spate. A slender-shafted Pine
Lost footing, fell, and so was whirled away.
'How he went down,' said Gareth, 'as a false knight
Or evil king before my lance if lance
Were mine to use--O senseless cataract,
Bearing all down in thy precipitancy--
And yet thou art but swollen with cold snows
And mine is living blood: thou dost His will,
The Maker's, and not knowest, and I that know,
Have strength and wit, in my good mother's hall
Linger with vacillating obedience,
Prisoned, and kept and coaxed and whistled to--
Since the good mother holds me still a child!
Good mother is bad mother unto me!
A worse were better; yet no worse would I.
Heaven yield her for it, but in me put force
To weary her ears with one continuous prayer,
Until she let me fly discaged to sweep
In ever-highering eagle-circles up
To the great Sun of Glory, and thence swoop
Down upon all things base, and dash them dead,
A knight of Arthur, working out his will,
To cleanse the world. Why, Gawain, when he came
With Modred hither in the summertime,
Asked me to tilt with him, the proven knight.
Modred for want of worthier was the judge.
Then I so shook him in the saddle, he said,
"Thou hast half prevailed against me," said so--he--
Though Modred biting his thin lips was mute,
For he is alway sullen: what care I?'

And Gareth went, and hovering round her chair
Asked, 'Mother, though ye count me still the child,
Sweet mother, do ye love the child?' She laughed,
'Thou art but a wild-goose to question it.'
'Then, mother, an ye love the child,' he said,
'Being a goose and rather tame than wild,
Hear the child's story.' 'Yea, my well-beloved,
An 'twere but of the goose and golden eggs.'

And Gareth answered her with kindling eyes,
'Nay, nay, good mother, but this egg of mine
Was finer gold than any goose can lay;
For this an Eagle, a royal Eagle, laid
Almost beyond eye-reach, on such a palm
As glitters gilded in thy Book of Hours.
And there was ever haunting round the palm
A lusty youth, but poor, who often saw

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John Milton

Paradise Lost: Book X

Thus they in lowliest plight repentant stood
Praying, for from the Mercie-seat above
Prevenient Grace descending had remov'd
The stonie from thir hearts, and made new flesh
Regenerat grow instead, that sighs now breath'd
Unutterable, which the Spirit of prayer
Inspir'd, and wing'd for Heav'n with speedier flight
Then loudest Oratorie: yet thir port
Not of mean suiters, nor important less
Seem'd thir Petition, then when th' ancient Pair
In Fables old, less ancient yet then these,
Deucalion and chaste Pyrrha to restore
The Race of Mankind drownd, before the Shrine
Of Themis stood devout. To Heav'n thir prayers
Flew up, nor missed the way, by envious windes
Blow'n vagabond or frustrate: in they passd
Dimentionless through Heav'nly dores; then clad
With incense, where the Golden Altar fum'd,
By thir great Intercessor, came in sight
Before the Fathers Throne: Them the glad Son
Presenting, thus to intercede began.
See Father, what first fruits on Earth are sprung
From thy implanted Grace in Man, these Sighs
And Prayers, which in this Golden Censer, mixt
With Incense, I thy Priest before thee bring,
Fruits of more pleasing savour from thy seed
Sow'n with contrition in his heart, then those
Which his own hand manuring all the Trees
Of Paradise could have produc't, ere fall'n
From innocence. Now therefore bend thine eare
To supplication, heare his sighs though mute;
Unskilful with what words to pray, let mee
Interpret for him, mee his Advocate
And propitiation, all his works on mee
Good or not good ingraft, my Merit those
Shall perfet, and for these my Death shall pay.
Accept me, and in mee from these receave
The smell of peace toward Mankinde, let him live
Before thee reconcil'd, at least his days
Numberd, though sad, till Death, his doom (which I
To mitigate thus plead, not to reverse)
To better life shall yeeld him, where with mee
All my redeemd may dwell in joy and bliss,
Made one with me as I with thee am one.
To whom the Father, without Cloud, serene.
All thy request for Man, accepted Son,
Obtain, all thy request was my Decree:
But longer in that Paradise to dwell,
The Law I gave to Nature him forbids:
Those pure immortal Elements that know

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Dyin Of A Broken Heart

(micky dolenz)
Micky dolenz music (bmi)
Lead vocal: micky dolenz
I told my doctor somethings wrong with me
She said gimme forty dollars and well look and see
Hop up on the table now well take some blood
Find out what youre dyin of
She called me in the morning and she said now herere the facts
Well, it isnt your liver and it isnt your back
Its not your blood sugar or the asian flu
Thats not what killing you
Youre dyin of a broken heart
It really wasnt very smart
You lived through nixon and a drug or two
Just to get your due
Dyin of a broken heart
I called my analyst said I was a mess
He said gimme hundred dollars and well take a test
Lie down on the couch and tell me what you dream
It really isnt what it seems
Youre dyin
Youre dyin of a broken heart
And Im cryin
It really wasnt very smart
I lived through nixon and a drug or two
Just to get your due
Dyin of a broken heart
Youre dyin
Youre dyin of a broken heart
And Im cryin
It really wasnt very smart
I lived through nixon and a drug or two
Just to get your due
Dyin of a broken heart
Youre dyin of a broken heart
It really wasnt very smart
I lived through nixon and a drug or two
Just to get your due
Dyin of a broken heart
(get your due)
Dyin of a broken heart
(get your due)
Dyin of a broken heart
Dyin
Dyin
Dyin

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Old Mother Reagan

Old mother reagan
And her crew
Took away
From me and you
I hope she goes far away
She better go far away
Yknow it aint right
When its all wrong
This is the old mother reagan
Protest song
Old mother reagan
Shes so dumb
Shes so dangerous
How come...
Old mother reagan went to heaven
But at the pearly gates
She was stopped!
Gordon gano: vocals, giutar
Brian ritchie: bass, vocals
Victor delorenzo: drums, vocal
Produced by jerry harrison
Recoded & mixed by david vartanian at dvs perversion room, milwaukee
gorno music reprinted with permission

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American of the Century (for Bobcats everywhere...)

A jackdaw wisdom, tight-lined mouth and hands
Fashioned a diamond gift for the burgeoning culture
Like an alchemist drawing elements from the soil, but not so base.

Borrowing himself from bluesmen, small-town owners of the road,
From Rambling Jack, from Whitman, Guthrie,
Thomas and Rimbaud. And Macon’s finest too. Out of
Deepest Minnesota what would he choose himself to be?
The joker of the pack, claiming his slice of pie,
Convert-rabbi, neo-prophet, passing evangelist,
Unsentimental, unforeseen, unloved romanticist.
Wallflower gazer, laser, thrower of small verse grenades,
Painting threats of judgement in the mirrors
Of the mighty on the stolen hills.

A man too easy to dismiss, if not quite finally –
A contradicted, flawed, sometime-misogynist,
Ingenue, leaping the book from faith to faith.
However, when the time runs down
Those around may still recall all faith is one, a range
Of many a ledge and foothold. For those who have to climb.

Hibbing was once a mining town. Must have had fragments of sharp refrain
Floating in the post-war air, around the ears of teens and babes: Ma Rainey, Mahalia,
Dock Boggs and Robert Johnson, all of the splendid choir. As the ore ran thin
A voice emerged that “could not sing”, against a pounded piano, harp and buzzed guitar.
And hit a chord of confluence that five decades would ring. Would seize
Its moment in the light of centre stage before an avalanche of dross
Would cover it again, but even then, left trace for anyone who cared.

Minstrel tunes, quick river songs. Railroad, fly tree, putdown songs,
Songs of desire, so numerous and singular that none in that haze century
Could interpret their plurality. You didn’t dance
And if you had to learn the words, he offered you good luck.
No marketplace, no double-track, rolling his stone down a single rail.
The first rap: homesick blues. And songs to power brokers
From the highways, blacks and jews.

He fanned the flames of heroes, names among the brave:
Medger Evers, Emmett Till, Rubin Carter, Davey Moore,
George Jackson, Hattie Carroll, Lenny Bruce and Catfish.
He unlocked and protested love, that broken-glass illusion of what little
Might be saved. The light went down, cold beauty fell away, sensibility
Waned. But again it grew with age, thus he
Survives today, not castaway, his vinyl digitized.
You can check the bins and racks:
Data units in the aisles, blood spilt on the tracks.

For you who hire to dull the danger’s edge
And promote disgrace of person for commercial gain

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I Used To Be A Country Singer

I was sittin in my hotel room, strummin my old guitar
Not much to do when youre far away, playin some smokey bar
I was feelin a little empty and feelin a little blue
When the maid came in and asked me if she could do my room
I put down my old guitar and she gave me a smile
She had a crusty voice and a drinkers look, but she had a friendly style
She dusted my room and made my bed and she talked of days gone by
She spoke of when she wooed the men; a tear came to her eye
And she said
I used to be a country singer
I could sing a mean patsy cline
My husband he could yodel like wilf carter
Kitty wells was a real good friend of mine
She told me that her husband died and her son was overseas
I could tell by her eyes and her broken smile she was lonely just like me
She asked me if Id listen to a tape of when she was young
She said I cant sing now I forgot the words and my voice is almost gone
And she said
I used to be a country singer
I could sing a mean patsy cline
My husband he could yodel like wilf carter
Kitty wells was a real good friend of mine
Oh I cried inside but I couldnt tell if it was for her or for me
So I grabbed my axe and we sang a song in two part harmony
Ever since that day when Im feelin down and I cant find a happy tune
I just think if that maid and the feeling she gave, when she came to clean my room
And she said
I used to be a country singer
I could sing a mean patsy cline
My husband he could yodel like wilf carter
Kitty wells was a real good friend of mine
And she said
I used to be a country singer
I could sing a mean patsy cline
My husband he could yodel like wilf carter
Kitty wells was a real good friend of mine
Kitty wells was a real good friend of mine

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Geoffrey Chaucer

The Friar's Tale

This worthy limitour, this noble Frere,
He made always a manner louring cheer* *countenance
Upon the Sompnour; but for honesty* *courtesy
No villain word as yet to him spake he:
But at the last he said unto the Wife:
'Dame,' quoth he, 'God give you right good life,
Ye have here touched, all so may I the,* *thrive
In school matter a greate difficulty.
Ye have said muche thing right well, I say;
But, Dame, here as we ride by the way,
Us needeth not but for to speak of game,
And leave authorities, in Godde's name,
To preaching, and to school eke of clergy.
But if it like unto this company,
I will you of a Sompnour tell a game;
Pardie, ye may well knowe by the name,
That of a Sompnour may no good be said;
I pray that none of you be *evil paid;* *dissatisfied*
A Sompnour is a runner up and down
With mandements* for fornicatioun, *mandates, summonses*
And is y-beat at every towne's end.'
Then spake our Host; 'Ah, sir, ye should be hend* *civil, gentle
And courteous, as a man of your estate;
In company we will have no debate:
Tell us your tale, and let the Sompnour be.'
'Nay,' quoth the Sompnour, 'let him say by me
What so him list; when it comes to my lot,
By God, I shall him quiten* every groat! *pay him off
I shall him telle what a great honour
It is to be a flattering limitour
And his office I shall him tell y-wis'.
Our Host answered, 'Peace, no more of this.'
And afterward he said unto the frere,
'Tell forth your tale, mine owen master dear.'


THE TALE.


Whilom* there was dwelling in my country *once on a time
An archdeacon, a man of high degree,
That boldely did execution,
In punishing of fornication,
Of witchecraft, and eke of bawdery,
Of defamation, and adultery,
Of churche-reeves,* and of testaments, *churchwardens
Of contracts, and of lack of sacraments,
And eke of many another manner* crime, *sort of
Which needeth not rehearsen at this time,
Of usury, and simony also;

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John Milton

Paradise Lost: Book 05

Now Morn, her rosy steps in the eastern clime
Advancing, sowed the earth with orient pearl,
When Adam waked, so customed; for his sleep
Was aery-light, from pure digestion bred,
And temperate vapours bland, which the only sound
Of leaves and fuming rills, Aurora's fan,
Lightly dispersed, and the shrill matin song
Of birds on every bough; so much the more
His wonder was to find unwakened Eve
With tresses discomposed, and glowing cheek,
As through unquiet rest: He, on his side
Leaning half raised, with looks of cordial love
Hung over her enamoured, and beheld
Beauty, which, whether waking or asleep,
Shot forth peculiar graces; then with voice
Mild, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes,
Her hand soft touching, whispered thus. Awake,
My fairest, my espoused, my latest found,
Heaven's last best gift, my ever new delight!
Awake: The morning shines, and the fresh field
Calls us; we lose the prime, to mark how spring
Our tender plants, how blows the citron grove,
What drops the myrrh, and what the balmy reed,
How nature paints her colours, how the bee
Sits on the bloom extracting liquid sweet.
Such whispering waked her, but with startled eye
On Adam, whom embracing, thus she spake.
O sole in whom my thoughts find all repose,
My glory, my perfection! glad I see
Thy face, and morn returned; for I this night
(Such night till this I never passed) have dreamed,
If dreamed, not, as I oft am wont, of thee,
Works of day past, or morrow's next design,
But of offence and trouble, which my mind
Knew never till this irksome night: Methought,
Close at mine ear one called me forth to walk
With gentle voice; I thought it thine: It said,
'Why sleepest thou, Eve? now is the pleasant time,
'The cool, the silent, save where silence yields
'To the night-warbling bird, that now awake
'Tunes sweetest his love-laboured song; now reigns
'Full-orbed the moon, and with more pleasing light
'Shadowy sets off the face of things; in vain,
'If none regard; Heaven wakes with all his eyes,
'Whom to behold but thee, Nature's desire?
'In whose sight all things joy, with ravishment
'Attracted by thy beauty still to gaze.'
I rose as at thy call, but found thee not;
To find thee I directed then my walk;
And on, methought, alone I passed through ways

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Mosque of Omar and Jewish Temple

The Dome of the Rock was erected by the Muslim ruler Abd el-Malik in 688-691 A.D. It sits where the old Jewish temple mount was. The Roman General Titus destroyed the last Jewish temple around 70 A.D. This mosque is considered very sacred and would cause an international stir and possible war if it were destroyed.
The Jewish people begin to come back to their original homeland and after World War Two and the holocaust became the country of Israel again in 1948 under Jewish rule. They always have wanted to rebuild their temple. The city of Jerusalem went under their control during the six-day war in 1967. Jerusalem is a main point of any peace between Israel and the Palestinians. Everyone dealing with the volatile peace process in the world knows peace in the mid-east involves Jerusalem and the temple mount area.
Solomon’s Temple was the first temple built in Jerusalem and was completed around 953 BC and was destroyed by Nebuchadnezzar and the Babylonians and burned with fire in 586 BC. Zerubbabel and the returning exiles built the second temple, completing it in 516 BC. This temple was later embellished greatly by King Herod and was the temple Jesus Christ was dedicated in and preached in. Titus and the Romans destroyed this Temple in 70 AD.
Scholars such as Asher Kauffman are now saying Solomon’s original temple and the second temple built by Zerubbabel after the 70 year captivity to Babylon was aligned with the Eastern Gate and the temple was north of the Dome of the Rock mosque.
The Eastern Gate was the gate the Lord Jesus came riding thru on a donkey or what many Christians call Palm Sunday. This gate is now closed. The Golden Gate (Eastern Gate) in the eastern wall of Jerusalem gave access to the courtyards of the temple from the Kidron valley. The East gate was walled up by its Muslim conquerors (the Ottoman Turks) with great stones in 1530 A.D. The Prophet Ezekiel by a vision seen the Eastern Gate shut…Ezekiel 44: 1-3 'Then he brought me back to the outer gate of the sanctuary, which faces east; and it was shut. And he said to me, 'This gate shall remain shut; it shall not be opened, and no one shall enter by it; for the LORD, the God of Israel, has entered by it; therefore it shall remain shut. Only the prince may sit in it to eat bread before the LORD; he shall enter by way of the vestibule of the gate, and shall go out by the same way.'
I remember starring at this gate when I was at the Mount of Olives knowing when Christ touches the Mount of Olives at the end of the Tribulation this gate will be open. Ezekiel seen this vision around 600 BC This alignment of the future Jewish temple with the Eastern Gate would only be appropriate. The architectural layout of the temple would surely have been to allow the Messiah to come through the eastern gate and go straight ahead into the Holy City. He would not be doing any turning left and then right or any 'jigs'. He would enter the city and go straight ahead and up into the temple.
This will allow the third temple to be built while co-existing for a while with the mosque now there.
As we look now at the present situation we see that the Dome of the Rock occupies the center of the temple mount. The future third temple could therefore be rebuilt to the north of the Dome. It would be on the same site as the former temple. There would be room to provide an acceptable easement between the two buildings. There would, in fact, be a clearance of 150 feet. This certainly would take an international agreement.
When Ariel Sharon presumptuously decided to take a stroll on the temple mount some years ago the result was bloody mayhem. There was a huge outcry throughout the Islamic world. For the Jewish temple to be built next to the Dome of the Rock mosque will take a peace covenant of world magnitude and import.
We also see in the book of Revelation 11: 2 KJV 'But the court which is without the temple leave out, and measure it not; for it is given unto the Gentiles: and the holy city shall they tread under foot forty and two months'. Many believe this is a reference to the Dome of the Rock being there. Some say that later when the earthquake comes in
Zechariah 11 and Ezekiel 38 at the end of the Tribulation that this temple and mosque will destroyed as Christ touches the Mount of Olives preparing the way for the millennial temple of Ezekiel 40.
This would mean the third temple during Jacobs’ trouble and the Great Tribulation will not be the final temple.
It is uncanny that Jerusalem is a center of three major religions, Judaism, Christianity and Islam. The oil in the area is of major economic and political concern to the entire world. The whole region is now involved with international politics and the Israeli Palestinian conflict is paramount..
We Christians believe in a second coming of Christ when he will open the Jewish peoples eyes showing them he was their Messiah. We think it is prophecy that they are back from the nations. Mathew 24: 15 lets us know the temple will be rebuilt and defiled. We believe the gentile church age will end and many prophecies written in the Old Testament concerning Israel and the region and the world will be fulfilled
The more I see the picture unfold with prophecy the more I feel that the Mosque of Omar called the Dome of the Rock will not be destroyed but will stay there next to the rebuilt Jewish temple and will be a sign of peace between Israel and moderate Islam brokered by the man of peace from Europe. Jerusalem will be given to both sides and an agreement will be reached.
The false liberal church will help broker the situation as well. Radical Islam will seem to dissipate and the anti christ will use the false prophet of the false church and this very liberal so called church of eclectic faith will seem to respect all faiths allowing the temple in Jerusalem to coexist with the Mosque of Omar.
This covenant will be broken after three and one half years when Russia will come down as written about in Ezekiel 38. The peace will be broken with the Jews and the anti Christ will turn against them and also give a mark where by no man will be able to buy or sell.
I totally believe we are soon to come to these days and we are in the last days of the church age and the times of the gentiles mentioned in Luke 21: 24. We are now in the time of sorrows and distress amongst nations (Math 24: 6-8) and soon will go into the Great Tribulation when all this will happen. Math.24: 21
The Apostle Paul said in Romans 11: 25 that blindness in part has happened to Israel until the fullness of the Gentiles become in”. This dispensation of the gospel to the gentile nations is ending and there will also be a great falling away towards liberalism that will accept gay life styles and various religions.
The false church will not be based on the Bible but theology, psychology, philosophy and the wisdom of man and so called reason. It will use religious rhetoric and talk about liberation and peace, it will appear to many as good but it really is a wolf in sheep clothing and eventually will back up the anti christ and be destroyed in the tribulation period. Many a person already talks about Jesus Christ separate from the Holy Scriptures. This false church will help lead to a unified Europe and extend its hand to the mid east peace process.
I always thought that the Mosque of Omar would be destroyed but even if it was the Arabs and Islam would want it immediately rebuilt. In order to really broker a peace this Temple and Mosque problem has to be settled.
Recently all kinds of Orthodox Jews are buying up East Jerusalem and tunneling and digging. There was a segment concerning this on 60 minutes. Many are also saying the Mosque and Temple can co-exist along side one another. Israel would never give up the temple area and Islam would never give up the Mosque of Omar. The peace process that will be started by the anti christ who will come to power in the west will settle this question.
We are in the times of prophecy. Hold on to your Bible faith and never let it go for some liberal church system that doesn’t preach Jesus Christ according to the Scriptures and revelation. We need twenty-four hour prayer going up in our churches and real praise and worship and Bible teaching

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Dusty's Trail

Dusty's Trail is about…
Hiking up to Laban Rata at 11,000 feet,
Climbing up to Low's Peak at 4,095.2 meters,
Of majestic Mount Kinabalu.

Mount Kinabalu here we come,
Here we hike and we climb,
To explore and conquer
The beauty of the Mount Kinabalu.

Mount Kinabalu located in Sabah,
Land Below the Wind,
Mount Kinabalu, a World Heritage Site,
An oasis of calm and tranquility.

To discover true meaning of life,
Of a world in motion;
To create global awareness of Duchenne,
Let the trail Mount Kinabalu begins the journey.

Challenging climb yet achievable,
To help the Duchenne victims
In fulfilling their dreams,
Becoming healthy children.

This expedition will
build confidence and give hope
Among the Duchenne victims
Among victim's families.

Dusty's Trail is about…
Finding a cure one day,
Finding drugs to ease their sufferings,
Painful relieves among victims.

Let Mount Kinabalu expedition
To create Dusty trail,
To create unity and strength,
To create friendship among climbers from different countries.

Coalition Duchenne's spirit continues
To search funds for Research & Development of new drug,
To provide supports and ultimately find a cure,
For the victims and family members.

May this expedition
Bring hope, inspiration and aspiration.
May the victims continue
to live life to the fullest.

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Buzz Aldrin, Space Imperialist

Buzz Aldrin, Space Imperialist,
discovers a tiny brown lesion
on the end of his nose.
he uses his wife’s
concave make up mirror
to examine it more closely
and confirms his worse suspicions:
It’s malignant.
Coolly, he makes
one appointment with his dermatologist
and another in Samara.
After brushing his teeth
he takes another look
at the tiny brown Angel of Death.
It flakes off
-a brown booger.
Buzz cancels his appointments
and craves a celebratory drink terribly,
but summons his fantastic will power
and resists the urge.

II
Buzz Aldrin, Space Imperialist,
lands on the Dark Side of the Moon
and meets the indigenous Moonpupiks,
who are heavily armed yet friendly.
He has sex with many tribeswomen,
but fends off the attentions of the polymorphous perverse
tribesmen, and tells all that they must
dropp their religion and adopt the
State Religion of NASA, Tanglicanism,
which uses Tang for communion wine.
The natives say they don’t mind a bit
as they are lapsed Moonitarians
and were looking for something to fill the gap.
Disappointed they don’t offer more conversion resistance,
Buzz orders the leaders beheaded
and claims the Dark Side of the Moon
in the name of Rio Tinto,
an Australian mining corporation
whose logo he wears on his helmet
and ship.
Then he wakes up.

II(a)
Buzz Aldrin, Space Imperialist
takes another nap and,
against the advice of his fellow astronauts,
brings 4 or 5 Moonpupiks (MOON pu pix)
back to the Court of Richard Nixon, Imperial Vizard,

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