National security writer and editorialist Jack Kelly acknowledges that
ON TERRORISM, REPORTERS SEE WHAT THEY WANT TO SEE.
And he backs it up by taking apart Washington Post author Dana Priest.
Sorry, Hil, Redstaters Aren't This Dumb
I know that you have presidential ambitions, Hil, but that dog won’t hunt.
Nothing but a total ban on abortion is acceptable.
Of course, the junior senator from New York ain’t trying to win over true redstaters. She’s trying to appeal to the mushy middle.
It’s up to solid pro-lifers to educate them away from taking the bait.
Sorry, Hil, Redstaters Aren’t This Dumb
I know that you have presidential ambitions, Hil, but that dog won’t hunt.
Nothing but a total ban on abortion is acceptable.
Of course, the junior senator from New York ain’t trying to win over true redstaters. She’s trying to appeal to the mushy middle.
It’s up to solid pro-lifers to educate them away from taking the bait.
LIBERALS: What, Me Worry?
In preparation for the coming push for Social Security reform, some liberals are now trying to argue that there is no "crisis" (a term that is almost infinitely plastic in meaning, as it can refer either ot an imminent crisis or a looming, long-term crisis) and that the system can be "fixed" by (guess what) tax increases and benefit reductions (not for present, voting seniors, mind you, but for us when we retire).
STEYN: No Exit–And–The Problem Is That Red Staters Aren't Dumb Enough
. . . Mark Steyn argues two points:
1) All the discussion about whether we have an "exit strategy" in Iraq is misdirected, and
2) The real source of the Democrats’ rage at the redstaters is not that the redstaters are too stupid but that they aren’t stupid enough.
STEYN: No Exit–And–The Problem Is That Red Staters Aren’t Dumb Enough
. . . Mark Steyn argues two points:
1) All the discussion about whether we have an "exit strategy" in Iraq is misdirected, and
2) The real source of the Democrats’ rage at the redstaters is not that the redstaters are too stupid but that they aren’t stupid enough.
SCIENTISTS: Pokemon Causes Cancer!–Or–Turn It Off! Turn It Off! Turn It Off!
Only it’s not the Pokemon you think. It’s a gene called Pokemon, and it seems to be a "master switch" gene that allows for all sorts of cancers.
It appears that we may be able to make significant headway in the fight against cancer if we can find a way to take this gene and, like many parents yell when their kids watch too many episodes of the TV show, "Turn it off! Turn it off! Turn it off!"
March 11, 2004 Show
HIGHLIGHTS:
- What is the church’s view of divorce?
- Do Christians and Muslims worship the same God?
- What can you tell me about the death of St. Joseph?
- Why would Moses expect the Israelites to ask for God’s name when he was sent to them after the revelation at the burning bush?
- Did the Romans ever scourge anyone to death?
- Why does the Apostles’ Creed say “he descended into hell?”
- Did Judas hang himself? How is that squared with Acts 1:18?
- Is there a difference between the International Church of Christ and the denomination the
- How do angels fight a war?
- I don’t trust my bible study. What should I do?
- What do Lutherans believe about the presence of Christ in their communion?
- Are the Stations of the Cross unbiblical?
- Why does Mary wipe up the blood in the movie The Passion of the Christ?
- Does the description of God in the Koran agree with the Christian view of God?
- Why does the number of days in Lent not add up to forty?
- Why did Christ have to suffer?
- What do you think of the book The Passion of Jesus Christ: Fifty Reasons Why He Came to Die?
Roman Holiday
Sic semper tyrannis!
Yes, I know those words were originally said by (or attributed to) Brutus concerning the murder of Julius Caesar, but the Romans apparently took them seriously, for 1,964 years ago today (Jan. 24) they offed another one of their tyrants (whose middle names were also "Julius Caesar"): The Emperor Gaius Julius Caesar Germanicus.
What? You never heard of him?
But that’s his picture on the left!
Well, okay, it’s understandable that you wouldn’t know him by his proper name because he is far better known by his nickname.
Y’see, when he was a little boy, his father, the wildly popular Germanicus (who was in line for the throne but died under mysterious circumstances), took his family with him when he was out on military campaigns.
His little son Gaius had a little soldier suit, and it tickled the troops to see him wear it. As a result, they nicknamed him after one of the items of his soldier suit: his little boots.
"Little Boot" in Latin is the name he is better known by today: Caligula. (They also sometimes called him the plural form Caligulae or "Little Boots.")
After the death of the much-resented Emperor Tiberius (who was on the throne when Jesus was crucified), Caligula became emperor, and at first he was very popular as people thought it was a fresh start after Tiberius’s interminable reign of cruelty and depravity. Caligula even publicly burned the secret dossiers that Tiberius had kept on prominent citizens (though rumors were that he held back a secret copy of them).
Caligula’s popularity came to a screeching halt when he had a sudden illness that gave him terrible headaches and seemed to alter his personality. Afterwards, he was incredibly cruel, spiteful, and in the view of many, insane.
He even at times appears to have demanded to be a worshipped as a god, and became a forerunner of the Beast of Revelation by demaning to have a statue of himself placed in Jerusalem for the veneration of the Jewish people, an act that would have certainly sparked civil war. (Notable Jewish figures such as Philo the Jewish philosopher and King Herod Agrippa were able to dissuade him from this plan.)
Eventually, the Romans got so fed up with Caligula that–three years, ten months, and eight days into his reigh–they murdered him. Members of his own guard killed him (as well as his wife and his infant daughter).
It was in the wake of his death that his uncle, the lame, stammering scholar Tiberius Claudius Drusus Nero Germanicus was dragged by the Praetorian Guard from where he was hiding behind a curtain (lest he also be killed, as the whole royal family seemed under attack) and proclaimed emperor (so that the guard could stay gainfully employed). Despite his typically prodigious Roman name, he is known to us as the Emperor Claudius.
It was a Roman holiday.
The Coming End Of the Judicial Filibuster
Good riddance to it, too.
The Constitution doesn’t requires more than a majority vote on presidential appointments to the judiciary, and it twists the meaning of the Constitution to use Senate debate rules to up that to a 60-vote supermajority.
In fact, I’m rethinking the existence of the filibuster. Certainly the way it’s come to be used, a case can be made that it is a contra-Constitutional rule that we ought to simply get rid of.
But that’s a question for another day. For now,