freedom…hummmm…

“They who can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety
deserve neither liberty nor safety.”

Benjamin Franklin, Memoirs of the life & writings of Benjamin Franklin


(image courtesy a business site)

If the truth be told, I’ve had one particular thought crossing my mind over and over
throughout this most surreal time in our lives.
That thought is simply one of freedom.

I’ve even addressed it here in blogland, when the time has allowed, during this past nearly
three months of living life in the Twilight Zone.

There has been a roller coaster of emotions for all of us…
emotions of sorrow, fear, confusion—-

And there has been a stone wall of both frustration and anger.

I have noted before that I live in a “free” state.

A classification that I find extremely bizarre.
When would an American find themselves differentiating between a free
and non-free state other than say, during the Civil War?!

But for our 21st-century way of thinking,
a free state is a state that is lifting its pandemic bans.
Non-free states remain closed.
As in non-functioning.

I have recently enjoyed the opportunity of actually going out to eat.

Actually sitting down at one of my favorite restaurants and actually enjoying a dining experience
albeit with masked servers and socially distanced table set-ups.

People in our state can go get a haircut—something I’ve yet to do as the process
is a tad tedious and makes for very limited appointments so I’ll stick to my
ballcap for now.

The liquor store is still curbside.
Which I kind of enjoy but miss looking at the pretty bottles.

Our farmer’s markets are open.

I’m going to get my car serviced tomorrow—at a dealership 45 minutes away, in another town…
meaning I am free to travel about without restriction.

In Italy, they had to have official paperwork allowing them to venture
out of their homes in order to go to the grocery store or Pharmacia.

Whereas our parks are beginning to reopen, our lakes and marinas have never closed.

And we should note that our grocery store chains, Wal-Mart, Target, Lowes
and Home Depot have never closed–
nor did they even ration the number of patrons entering the stores–masks or no masks.

And for the record, I do not wear a mask.

If I am told I had to do so if it meant visiting a certain business, I would oblige–
but if not mandated, I don’t.
I am not sick.
I have not been exposed.
Plus I try not to let fear dictate my life.

Good hygiene practices and common sense rather than fear seem to both win out for me.
But I digress…

One thing I have found perplexing is the tit for tat that governors in
“non-free” states are having with their fellow governors in free states–
along with that of their /our President.
They are trying to remain locked down come hell or high water—
and if they aren’t careful…it just might be both.

People are not being allowed to work.
They are being furloughed, let go, or permanently closed down.
And small businesses, the backbone of this nation, are not being allowed to operate.

As this all makes good economic sense to whom???

Another odd happening throughout the country during all of this mess
is that one has been free to go get an abortion if one so chooses as abortion clinics
had been categorized as “essential” yet church doors remain sealed.

So that means that one’s spiritual wellness is not essential but murder and death are…
go figure.

See Citizen Tom’s posting on the Prince William-Manassas Family Alliance in Virginia for
more of the story of the idiocy reigning supreme in the Commonwealth of Virginia regarding the
rights of the unborn–or maybe that should read…no rights for the unborn.

THE ABORTION MASQUERADE

And if I hear another pastor or priest dictate that they are keeping the doors
shut to their particular houses of worship because they are following
“science” —–well, just knock me in the head!

Men and women of the cloth are to follow the Word of God—
and I’m pretty certain God’s doors are open as He will certainly approve of the various
and the necessary health precautions for his precariously fragile creations.

Wear masks if you must, wear gloves if you must, receive communion, the Host, in open hands and use a
throw away cup for the wine verses a chalice—
Sit in pews 6 feet apart or on every other pew…don’t sing if you think it too
precarious and contagious (as in healthwise and not song-wise) but for Heaven’s sake
and for our sake, let the people pray and worship in God’s house!!!!

Did we close the churches and synagogues during the Great Depression or WWII???
Or what of the summers when polio was plaguing our children?
Or when TB was running rampant?

When people most needed comfort and hope, the various houses of worship opened
wide their doors.
They may have donated church goods to be melted for the war effort, they may have
had fewer attending due to polio or TB concerns, but the doors were open none the less,
allowing the spiritually hungry to come inside and find sustenance.

And so I caught another great post over on the Smoke of Satan and the Open Windows of Vatican II
musing over our plight in the Twilight Zone

“How did a temporary plan to preserve hospital capacity turn into two-to-three months
of near-universal house arrest that ended up causing worker furloughs at 256 hospitals,
a stoppage of international travel, a 40% job loss among people earning less than $40K per year,
devastation of every economic sector, mass confusion and demoralization,
a complete ignoring of all fundamental rights and liberties,
not to mention the mass confiscation of private property with forced closures of millions of businesses?

Whatever the answer, it’s got to be a bizarre tale…”

https://smokeofsatan.wordpress.com/2020/05/25/the-2006-origins-of-the-lockdown-idea/

And now, we come back full circle to the notion of Freedom.

A notion, along with the fact that I am writing this post on Memorial Day,
is a most poignant thought.

It is the day we remember those who gave the ultimate sacrifice for our very freedoms.

But the question remains…what of those freedoms?

Who now dictates those freedoms?

I will close today’s rambling with a look at the opening quote by Benjamin Franklin…

“They who can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety
deserve neither liberty nor safety.”

What are you willing to give up for a bit of temporary safety?
Everything?
I hope not.

For freedom Christ has set us free; stand firm therefore,
and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery.
For you were called to freedom, brothers.
Only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, but through love serve one another.
For the whole law is fulfilled in one word:
“You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”
But if you bite and devour one another,
watch out that you are not consumed by one another.

Galatians 5:1 and 5:13-15

FREEDOM…redux


(Mel Gibson as William Wallace in the movie Braveheart)

The other day while scrolling through various news feeds, I caught one story’s
headline that made me rather angry.

The gist of the title said something about Americans and their love of freedom and how
they really needed to let go of that love…in other words,
Americans needed to quit focusing on that little hangup of theirs…
that being freedom.

The picture of the gentleman penning the story was that of a non-American or
perhaps an American national at best.
And don’t start with how racist it is of me to see someone’s picture and
“assume” they are not American.

The dude was clearly smug, arrogant and all-knowing as he wrote a piece lecturing Americans
over their obsession with freedom.

I was really quite incensed and opted not to read the article lest my blood pressure rise up
any further than it has, having been on this lockdown now for three months.

And so I immediately thought of Sam Adams.

Yes, Sam Adams and not William Wallace.

Adams being that beer-making colonist and not the Scottish freedom fighter William Wallace
as seen above–

It’s just that the image of Mel Gibson as a half-crazed angry Scotsman who led a ragtag
army of clansmen while waging guerilla warfare against the British Army in a frustratingly
failed attempt at independence was just much more eye-catching than the benign painting of
Sam Adams seen below.


(detail of a portrait of Adams by John Singleton Copley /1772)

According to Alphahistory.com, Samuel Adams was a Massachusetts businessman,
writer, and political figure, known for his busy activism and his radical political views.
From the mid-1760s, Adams became the American Revolution’s agitator in chief,
to the extent that the British reportedly declared him the “most dangerous man in America”.

Adams, as a Harvard graduate, was no dummy yet he is more often remembered for being
that of a rabble-rouser and true revolutionist rather than that of a scholar,
statesman, or businessman.
And more sadly— he is merely seen as some sort of father of American beer–
as in the first brewing company.

But Adams was a ‘freedom at any cost’ sort of fellow—
much like our Scottish friend William Wallace.

Adams did eventually go on to become one of those famous band of brothers known as
the Founding Fathers.
His name would go on for eternity to be held in historical esteem with the likes of
John Adams (his cousin), Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Franklin, George Washington,
Alexander Hamilton, John Jay and James Madison.

Wikipedia notes that Adams was “a leader of the movement that became the
American Revolution, and one of the architects of the principles of
American Republicanism that shaped the political culture of the United States.”

Yet some historians argue that Adams may have been more of hot-headed renegade versus
that of a level-headed leader as it appears he was one more apt
to promote propaganda and mob violence rather than failed negotiations with a King
and his realm.

I like to think that Adams was more of a spirited revolutionist–the quintessential
example of what makes Americans, Americans.

A man who fought valiantly for the freedom that we Americans enjoy today.

Land of the free and home of the brave.
Home of the free, land of the brave.

Yep we, as a young republic fought, while blood was shed and lives were lost, all
for this land of the free…

And so I am more than perplexed watching our states…our states fighting
amongst themselves as well as their larger government regarding
lockdowns vs soft openings vs tyranny and oppression vs freedom…

Experience tells us that with more available testings for COVID-19, aka Wuhan flu,
the more available tests will, in turn, result in higher numbers of positive cases—
of which will then result in the scary higher numbers which we are now seeing.

Does that, in turn, mean that there will be more gloom and doom
along with death and pandemonium…??
I don’t know…

However, I don’t think statistics and charts will show significant dire straits
are in store for us.

Yet what I am seeing is that these new numbers are now steering leaders to make choices
and decisions based simply on fluctuations.
While we the people remain held hostage.

Does that make for good governing?
I don’t think so.

The one thing I know, the one thing for certain…
we are indeed Americans…we believe in freedom—it’s kind of what makes us, us…
be that for good or bad–

So to tell American entrepreneurs that they must shut their doors indefinitely,
leaving them with no clear picture of when or if they may reopen for business, let
alone how they are to pay their employees who also need to pay their bills and buy those
day to day items that help keep them going, is most vexing.

Are there those among us who are being stupid in all of this?
Yes.
So do we need to have safety measures in place as we begin to wake back up
and resume some sense of who we are as a nation?
Most definitely.

But to stifle our economy and our daily lives just to see if we can wait out
a virus is not the answer—if that is the case the virus will win while
we wither and die—not from a virus but from hiding under a rock.

And those who think socialism is our answer, as we print more and more paper,
which is considered money, money that is simply pulled magically out of the sky to then
be passed around like candy, well, they may want to go live in those countries who currently
live under socialist regimes to see how well that works for the common man or woman.

And as for bigger Government—and Big Brother…
Well, I think we’ll wait to talk about that another day…because for now…
I think I’ll stick with Patrick Henry’s line of thinking—
Give me liberty or give me death…

drumroll….

“Cooking is at once child’s play and adult joy.
And cooking done with care is an act of love.”

Craig Claiborne

Well, the clarified milk punch is all filtered out and ready to go live in the basement–
And yes, it will live in the fridge as I tend to be a little leery about anything made today
that dates back nearly 300 years.

It will remain indefinitely at the ready only to be happily pulled out,
poured and sipped as the occasion dictates.
As long as the pitcher load holds out, the glasses will be lifted.

So just to re-cap.
Remember we went from this on Monday…

To these shots on Tuesday…

To these shots on Thrusday…

To the finished product…

It is a smooth sipper.
Refreshingly cool (as it is kept in the fridge)
With welcoming warm notes of spice–
And oddly, it is reminiscent of Apple cider with nary an apple in sight.

I actually like it–a lot.

As I researched all kinds of clarified milk punches—some called for various teas, and/or
pineapple or blood oranges instead of the lemons—
As well as anything from vodka to brandy to a variety of rums.

Being a bit of a purist, I wanted to try a recipe that was more historically correct
to what would be used by someone who was in the throes of the milk punch heyday.

Enter Benjamin Franklin.

My few changes to Mr. Franklin’s original recipe was to use 3 cups of cognac and
3 cups of dark spiced rum to make up for the 6 cups of brandy he called for–
So that is most likely as to why mine still has a tinge of brown vs yellow.

I also added 1 1/4 cups of sugar rather than just 3/4 cup—3/4 white 1/2 demerara
as the amount varied from one recipe to the next.
I think 1 cup of sugar would suffice.
It’s just that my lemons seemed to be bitter so I wanted to offset any added bitterness.

I added 6 fresh cardamon pods which adds a heady perfumey vibe.
1 whole anise star
A hardy dose of sprinkled cinnamon as well as the stick.
and 4 cups of the boiling milk rather than 3.

Some recipes recommend letting the concoction sit for weeks at a time…
other recipes said to store it in an oak barrel for a smoky aged edge…

I actually have two small home kitchen aging barrels I bought
a few years back for some small scale aging of spirits…but if I wanted a smokey taste…
I’d have simply opened a bottle of burnt peat, I mean scotch.

If I had opted to continue filtering over the next several days, the liquid would continue to lighten up
and clear up even more…but since the filtering through the coffee filters has taken
literally all day…I’m fine with some remaining cloudiness.

There were some recipes makers who opted to leave some of the milk solids in as they thought
it offered a bit of creaminess to a “creamless” drink—which might be more of a hybrid between
a typical milk punch and a clarified milk punch.

However, with all of that said…this is a lighter type of drink as well as very inviting…
If you like notes of warm fall spice, you’ll enjoy a small glass full.
I do fear however that if you don’t watch out, it might just lull your senses—
because if you get a little too comfortable you might just imbibe in one too many drams 🙂

Here’s a link to Ben’s recipe-
I think Ben would be proud…

Benjamin Franklin: Milk Punch Aficionado. Here’s His Recipe.

Again, Cheers!

Next, as the days grow darker and a bit colder, a more New Orleans style milk punch
just might be in order…stay tuned.

Hummmm…..

Yesterday’s infusion becomes today’s coagulation, which in turn,
becomes tomorrow’s clarified nectar…or so I’m hoping.

cookie

Now let’s retrace our steps.

Yesterday we peeled 11 lemons and added the peels (minus the white pith) to 3 cups
cognac and 3 cups brandy…and let it steep for 24 hours.

And thus we’ve gone from this on Monday…

To this on Tuesday…

A curdled heady aromatic pot of who knows what.

Waiting for about 2 hours, I next poured the coagulated mess through some cheesecloth
and a fine-mesh strainer.

After staining, the remaining liquid will be moved to the fridge where it will sit for
another 24 hours, allowing any remaining “curds” to settle.
After sitting and settling, I’ll strain the liquid through a coffee filter.

Benjamin Franklin used a jelly bag…or so said the recipe he’d
handwritten and shared with a friend.
Aren’t handwritten recipes great?
They just keep getting passed around…albeit it spotted, yellowed and torn.

I don’t know what a jelly bag is and thus, doubt I own one…
hence the coffee filter and cheesecloth.

I did previously add to this putrid looking mess some cardamon pods, a single star anise,
a broken cinnamon stick, a fully grated nutmeg along with 2 cups of lemon juice,
1 1/2 cups of sugar, 4 cups of water and 4 cups of boiling milk…

All resulting in the curdled mess now staring up at us from the pot.

I dared to taste it, stealing a small spoonful this morning.

It’s pretty boozy as well as heavy on the lemon.
Maybe too lemony—

I was hit with a taste of bitterness but of course,
that was before I added the sugar, water, and milk.

I’m beginning to think that 11 lemon peels and 2 cups of juice may have been all of
a bit of an overkill.

But Ben said to do it and so I did.
How can I argue with the man who wrote Poor Richard’s Almanac?!

The sampling I had tasted down at the beach had been made with pineapple.
Since I’m not a huge pina colada, tropical drink kind of fan, I stuck to Ben’s original recipe
and opted not to introduce any pineapple.

I did deviate slightly however and threw in a few cardamon pods.
I like cardamon as it reminds me of a warm Fall cozy evening.
I also sprinkled in some cinnamon along with the broken stick as I like a heavy dose of
cinnamon in my Fall goodies.

I’m now wondering if adding a vanilla pod might have been a nice touch.

As you can see in the picture below, the curds were caught in the cheesecloth…

The strained liquid, which is still rather cloudy and reminds me of apple cider, will sit
for a day or so before it goes through more filtration.

The taste is spicy, warm, and again, very boozy…but in a soft sort of way.

We’re off to see the Mayor and Sheriff tomorrow so the final presentation will have to wait
a day or so longer— but trust me…
we’ve come this far and by gosh, we will have an official presentation if it kills me…

And let’s hope that drinking this stuff won’t…kill me!

I’ll also pass on Mr. Franklin’s recipe.

And I suppose that there might be some of you wondering why in the heck I would go
to such trouble just to make a simple drink…or more aptly, a most complicated drink?!

Maybe it’s because the mountain was there and I wanted to climb it…
Maybe it’s because I’ve been missing that creative spark in my life.

Or maybe it’s in part because it’s something that harkens back to a
different day and time.

It takes us back to a time when taking one’s time was appreciated.
It was a time when taking the time to do something that was somewhat painstaking
and was in turn, shared with others,
was equally appreciated as both a product and a preparation.
There is a deep sense of satisfaction in that.

It harkens to a time when we didn’t take everything for granted…
knowing that we could simply run out to a store and buy what our tastes might
be yearning for…
As in there were no grub hubs or uber eats back then.
The work from our hands filled our needs and wants and thus that was where our satisfaction
was found.

It was a time when things like lemons and spices were not readily available.
So when you could find them, afford them, they were savored and relished.

And thus savoring and relishing while feeling a sense of accomplishment and gratitude
is certainly reason enough…or at least it is for me.
And since it is indeed Fall…there’s no better time for slowing down,
savoring and reflecting upon some past simple pleasures.

Cheers!

deviating with a touch of alchemy and a creative past…

“Whisky is liquid sunshine.”
George Bernard Shaw


(step 1 to clarified milk punch / Julie Cook / 2019)

I must beg to differ with Mr. Shaw’s quote…
Clarified milk punch is liquid sunshine, not the amber hue of whisky.
But more about that in a minute.

Ok, so I’m straying a bit from our normally well-worn Spiritual path…
And it is with good reason.

I’ve decided that sharing a bit of the creative will be a wonderful way for us to
clear our heads a tad.

Life has been so heavy as of late has it not?

Be it in our own small personal little corners of the world,
or be it in the greater world at large…life has indeed been heavy.

And just to be honest…I’m tired of all this constant state of heaviness.

Today is Oct. 22nd.

That day falls on the calendar of what would be the season of Fall, aka Autumn…
you choose.
It is the time of a waning sun, cooler temps and those oh so pretty leaves…
or so one would think.

Two weeks ago our car registered 102 degrees.
Two weeks ago it was still October.

We were not driving in some heat-ridden place like southern Arizona or southern Hell,
rather we were in what is considered “north Georgia.”

As in, we have been living in a perpetual state of drought-ridden, heat relentless misery
since May.

Fall leaves are falling…they are simply falling off after having first turned brown.

“They” tell us that if the rains, which have thankfully begun,
continue and if the temperatures start to become more seasonal,
we have hope of salvaging “Fall”…meaning we might have some
crisp cool color after all.

And so despite living in this perpetual state of the neverending heat of Hades…
aka Summer,
my thoughts are turning to Fall.

As in pulling out those moth-eaten sweaters, gathering colorful pots of mums and
stacking up those beautiful heirloom pumpkins.

Praying for a chill in the air so we can have a skip to our step!

My thoughts are also turning to warm and spicey.

So you’ve got to know that a retired art teacher, who has also been a consummate
hobby cook for most of her life would need to find something creative and
challenging for this time of year.

Enter the clarified milk punch.


(Gastro Obscura)

A couple of weeks back my husband and I had headed down to the beach for a
few days for some much needed R&R.
It was a late anniversary celebration.

One mid-afternoon we found ourselves sitting at the hotel’s Cuban inspired bar looking
for a bite to eat and perhaps a bit of added libation.

The bartender went over the drink menu with us and told us that one of the drinks
on the menu was no longer available…they were out.
It was called something like ‘Wheyt a minute’.
A play on the word whey…as in curds and whey…
the clear liquid that comes when the curds of the milk (the milkfat)
are separated and removed.

My cooking and concocting curiosity was suddenly piqued.

I was told that the bartender, who was the creative genius behind the drink,
would be working that night.

And so later that night, after we’d returned from dinner out,
I found myself wandering back into the bar in search of this mysterious mixologist.

The bar was busy and humming with a crowd of fun-filled folks—
many of whom had arrived in town for various beach backdropped weddings.

I squeezed myself in, way up to the beautiful wood-paneled bar flanked by shelves of
colorful bottles all filled with glistening hued liquids…
squeezing past the myriad of merrymakers and asking for the bartender by name who
I knew had a quiet yet unique creative flair.

I asked about his drink that was no longer available.

Over the rising crescendo of noise cast from the pretty merrymakers gathered
in and around the packed bar, the bartender who was obviously pleased that someone
actually was curious about his handiwork, explained that he makes a clarified milk punch
for each season.
The batch for summer was now spent and he was in the process of brewing the
winter’s warmer spicer batch.

He offered a brief rundown of how it comes about.
There was fruit, liquor, spices, milk…there was steeping, cooking, filtering,
separating…and there was waiting.

As in all good things…right?

He explained that the new batch wasn’t ready yet…it still needed to steep.
He’d be putting it on the menu the following week.
I sadly explained that we were heading home the following day.

Alas.

He told me to hang tight and he’d slip to the back and bring me a taste as soon as
he had a lull at the busy bar.

I patiently waited…as it turned out that the wait was well worth my time.

He made good on his word…

My new friend presented me with about 2 ounces of a cold, slightly cloudy,
yellow-tinged liquid that had been poured into a pretty crystal glass.

I took a sip…there was a hint of pineapple, warm spices like nutmeg,
a cream-like flavor albeit a clear liquid. It was chilled and satisfying,
smooth and easy. Inviting and cheerful.
Nothing I had ever tasted before.

My curiosity was now ramped up even more.
I told him I was going home to make my own.
He smiled.

(a thank you to my friend Sair at the Havana Beach Bar and Grill)

And so in turn, I have researched.

History takes the drink back to the early 1700 hundreds with one story dating back to the
1600 hundreds in England.

Those who frequent New Orleans are familiar with milk punches that look,
well, like milk.
We think of things like egg nog—rich, thick and creamy.

But it was this clarified version that held my curiosity.
Milk and clear seemed like an oxymoron.

Some are made with pineapple, others are made with lemons or oranges…
with both peels and juice.
Hence the curdling agent.

There are riffs with add-ins such as black or green tea, coriander, nutmeg, cinnamon, and anise.
There is rum, or cognac, or brandy, or port, or a little of each.
There is some sugar and there is boiled milk.

But using milk as just milk would be too easy…however making milk clear, well,
that would require some skill.

A clarified milk does not run the risk of going bad.
It doesn’t spoil.
The fat is removed.
It has no special needs such as refrigeration in order to keep it cool and good…
it doesn’t need to be quickly consumed before going bad.
It allows one to linger…like a cozy sweater-wearing, fire crackling evening…
delightfully lingering.

The story goes that when Charles Dickens died he had bottles of clarified
milk punch stored in his cellar.
100 years following his death, the bottled punch was still quite palatable.

After all of my “researching,” I’ve opted to go with a recipe that was the personal favorite
recipe of none other than Benjamin Franklin.


(NY Times)

The man who gave us the lightning rod, the postal service, libraries, bifocals,
not to mention helping to craft our democracy, has also offered us his recipe
for a clarified milk punch.

Step one, as pictured above, is simply a mix of 3 cups each of rum and cognac along with
the peels of, count them, 11 lemons!
That will steep until tomorrow…steeping until I remove the peels and then begin
the real magic.

I’ll offer more tomorrow or as time allows.
But just know…that amber-hued, lemon studded, liquid will eventually be soft and clear.

My batch will be small…about a gallon or so.
My bartender friend has to make a much larger batch but hence when it’s gone, it’s gone.

No matter the amount, it will keep in the refrigerator for whenever I want a nice
small glass or should I have need for a punch bowl.

Stay tuned…

Our Judaeo / Christianity roots keeps us disciplined

“The general principles, on which the Fathers achieved independence,
were the only Principles in which that beautiful Assembly of young Gentlemen could Unite,
and these Principles only could be intended by them in their address, or by me in my answer.
And what were these general Principles? I answer, the general Principles of Christianity,
in which all these Sects were United: And the general Principles of English and American Liberty…

“Now I will avow, that I then believe, and now believe,
that those general Principles of Christianity, are as eternal and immutable,
as the Existence and Attributes of God; and that those Principles of Liberty,
are as unalterable as human Nature and our terrestrial, mundane System.”

Adams wrote this on June 28, 1813, excerpt from a letter to Thomas Jefferson.


(image Memoria Press)

Monday night, once the dishes were finally finished, I sat down to catch a bit
of the day’s news.
I came in right at the beginning of a sit-down interview between Fox News journalist
Martha Maccallum and Wall Street editorialist, Bill McGrun

The subject topic was ‘Faith in American Politics’ as both journalists were offering
their take on the speech given by Attorney General William Barr Friday to a closed-door
audience at Notre Dame’s law school.
The gist of the speech has been called Barr’s take on the ‘coordinated
campaign to destroy the traditional moral order.’

I’ve written about this very subject for quite some time here in my small little corner
of the blogosphere.

Mr. McGrun observed that Barr was basing much of his thoughts on that of the
Founding Fathers and the sustaining of a ‘free’ society.
McGrun noted that “if you want a free society,
it requires people capable of self-governing
which means restraining your passions.
Religion contributed a lot of that morality that made people disciplined—allowing
them to be free and so when religion is in decline, you then get anything goes…”

Below is the link to the interview between Maccallum and McGrun…
it is a short interview and worth the viewing
but below that is the link to the full video of Barr’s address.

When I was searching for a video clip to share regarding Barr’s speech,
many news outlets offered clips with a few key soundbites along with their
overtly negative reactions.

I simply wanted the speech without any added commentary, con or pro.
So what I found was actually marked as a banned video.
Why that is I am uncertain.

The other item I sought to share was the column Mr. McGrun referenced that he’d written
following his having watched and digested the Barr speech…however,
in order to do so, I would
have to be a Washington Post on-line subscriber…
of which I am not nor do I wish to pay for.

So perhaps there is some other place where his column may be found…
but due to my limited social media connections, I’m not certain.

And as an aside I should note that both Barr and Maccallum are Catholic.
Maccallum’s son plays football for Notre Dame.
And Barr has younger family members attending Notre Dame
My Bulldogs beat the Irish, but could not beat the roosters (South Carolina)
so if you think this is a biased observation, think again.

Lastly, I’ve included a link to the Notre Dame student-based school newspaper
which published a story regarding the speech.

All of which are well worth the time to both watch and read…

https://video.foxnews.com/v/6094808752001/?playlist_id=5410209611001#sp=show-clips

William Barr speaks at Notre Dame about ‘militant’ forces of secularism, religious liberty in America

PS—I might be out of pocket for a day or two as illness has once again struck the home
of the Mayor—dad is now ailing and so we are off to help out…

a chamber pot for the chamber…

“Any fool can criticize, condemn and complain –
and most fools do”

Benjamin Franklin


(antique chamber pot filled with decorative little soaps / Julie Cook / 2019)

So in the latest episode of As The World Turns in the life of US Politicians,
yesterday brought us a rather unusual brouhaha on the floor of the House—

Out of step with parliamentary procedure, the House Speaker, Madame Pelosi,
began a rising crescendo of personal jabs directed at the President of the United States
all before she was to make a motion for a vote condemning his latest “racist” comments.

Of which are actually a result from a bit of a twitter tit for tat between the Fab 4 Reps and
the President (see yesterday’s post for a better explanation)—

Since the President wasn’t there in the House, it was pretty easy to jab–
as it’s always easiest to jab when the one you’re jabbing is not right in front of you.
(think Twitter)

And it seems that her jabs actually went against the rules of parliamentary procedure.
Her words were then, in turn, demanded to be stricken from the record by a Georgia Representative—
because it seems that she had broken the rules of procedure and decency by speaking
personal disdain against the President…a rule that dates back to Thomas Jefferson.

Decency, however, and our politicians, do not go hand in hand.
Nor does twitter, but I digress…

In apparent disgust, Madame Speaker left the house, of which is also a no-no
because anyone whose words come under question are to remain for the discussion
regarding said break of procedure.

But it matters not—the Dems rallied not to condemn Madame Pelosi but rather the President…

And yes, will someone please take his phone away from him…

But in all of this, here’s the thing…

If our nation can spend months chattering and salivating about a president having oral sex
in the oval office with an impressionable young White House intern and in turn,
wag his finger on national television denying what turned out to be truth…
and is now considered nothing less than a rock star…
then a trite twitter tit for tat does not truly have the worth of wasting the time of the
House of Representatives fussing and cussing one another as well as their president…
but oh I forgot…a lot of them don’t acknowledge him as a president.

And might we remember that Rep Ilhan Abdullahi Omar has spoken unmistakenly
hate-filled words toward Israel and Jews as well as flippant remarks regarding
the attacks on 9/11 and yet she is handled with nothing but gentle kit gloves.

So is it just me or are we seeing a great divide here?

So when my eye recently caught my little antique chamber pot filled with a wealth of pretty little
soaps…a chamber pot that graces my guest bathroom, I had a marvelous thought.

If one more progressive left politician insists on using the words racist or impeach— they
will find one of these pretty little soaps in their mouths…

Just saying…