Texas Drifter Democrats “Dumb Donkey Award 2010”?
Marshall’s Law Townhall Dateline – Are Texas Democrats best nominees to win Texas Drifters “Dumb Donkey Award 2010” for their porous border plan to “close the gate after all the cows have already gotten out”? Texas Democrats plan is to profile and then search “suspicious vehicles” crossing from U.S. soil into Mexico.
Texas Democrats may be only Democrats in America who ever supported “profiling” of any kind; their plan, stop and search “suspicious” vehicles crossing into Mexico from America to find guns and part of estimated four hundred billion dollars generated annually by illegal drug sales in America.
A reasonable person might ask following questions:
1. Are not cartels smart enough to eventually use non-suspicious vehicles to smuggle guns or drugs back into Mexico?
2. What is percentage of guns being smuggled into Mexico from America? Recent study of cartel weapons seized in Mexico analyzed by U.S. Federal authorities had following results: less than one percent (1%) were weapons imported from United States; most weapons were from corrupt Mexican State and Federal agencies and federal troops; next source was North Korea; followed by Russians, Cubans, Chinese, and Venezuelans. That is right all anti-Second Amendment folks, less than one percent of weapons smuggled into Mexico were from American side of border.
3. Is it not possible that most cartel drug profits being smuggled into Mexico are being wired or electronically transferred as opposed to very possible smaller amounts used by suspicious vehicles?
4. If porous border problems caused by smuggling of illegal drugs, illegal immigrants, Islamic-fascist terrorists, and non-published public health pandemics, which all threaten America, is strictly a federal problem according to ninety-eight percent of Texas politicians; then why is it not hypocritical for Texas Democrats to take an interest in smuggling across a porous border from U.S. into Mexico?
5. Texas Democrats claim that Texas law enforcement’s enforcing smuggling laws out of U.S., would not compete with Federal law enforcement as Texas and Federal law enforcement already have mutual co-operative arrangements. Is not the kind of mutual arrangement that landed Arizona in trouble with Obama?
6. Will not interfering with smuggling out of America into Mexico, negatively affect life styles of Mexico custom officers? How, by reducing bribes they collect called “mordida” from smuggling products into Mexico from U.S.
7. Could add more items to list, reader can add their own examples if they choose.
Would not someone please explain to Texas Democrats that stupid feel good plans that waste taxpayers’ money should be trashed for plans that at least have a slim chance of achieving intended objectives?
Texas Drifter has written many times that repetition is good teaching technique; here we go again. Following plan is good way to start insuring America’s national security and preserving America’s domestic tranquility before amnesty, word or concept, is ever included in any discussion.
Resolving America’s illegal immigration threats to national security, domestic tranquility, public health, and other societal problems will take years, be messy, and require “strong stomachs”.
First step:
- secure bridges against uncontrolled refugees during Mexico’s pending civil war (recall no Gaza type refugee camp ever built on American soil); and check all vehicles entering from Mexico – including all NAFA trucks – only searching about five percent NAFTA trucks now - what a great place to smuggle contraband into US?
- Army Corp of Engineers builds secure perimeter fence and turns over to appropriate federal domestic law enforcement agency;
- Saturate border with armed drones, those shooting at American law enforcement will not survive their ambush;
Second step:
- Implement sixty day amnesty program for illegals to return to country of origin with all their ill gotten gains – once detained after sixty day grace period they will forfeit all their assets through administrative asset forfeiture processes and be immediately deported – greed brought them here greed will send them home – illegal immigrants per population segment of U.S. have highest percentages of criminal conduct of any group in America – illegals represent less than ten percent of population and consist of estimated forty percent of America’s prisons populations
- Anyone employing more than two illegal immigrants goes to jail minimum thirty days first offence, six months second offense, and one to three years third offense – no conviction eligible for probation – time sentenced must be time served
- Anyone transporting two or more illegal immigrants loses their vehicle through asset administrative forfeiture – no exceptions
- Additional deterrents as needed
Minimum tactics:
- All citizens applying for diver’s licenses first issued less than ten years ago, and or probable cause, must provide admissible "court proof" quality documentation of citizenship – no more DMV employees calling applicants' friends to verify citizenship
- Driver’s Licenses (or equivalent document/s) will be required to obtain following services: utilities, phone services, mail services, rent, lease or purchase living space, apply for credit card, open bank account, transfer money out of America, wire money out of America, pay property taxes, purchase or lease vehicle, purchase vehicle insurance, travel by bus, train, or plane, accept employment, purchase prescription drugs, apply for public services like social service products and goods, list can be refined later ...
In closing, perhaps South Texas Democrats when accepting their Texas Drifter’s Democrats “Dumb Donkey Award 2010” should have appropriate South Texas talk show hosts (some not all) who bellow first ideas passing through their head phones. Why, cheerleaders often show up at awards ceremonies.
Editor’s Note: “Donkey” was used instead of better known word as Marshall’s Law tries to maintain family friendly format writing.
Friday, October 22, 2010
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Continue Plus 287
Texas Drifter’s Halloween Love Story
Marshall’s Law Townhall Dateline – “Halloween Love Story” was originally entitled “Heart of The Ebony”. Any American who still believes that Obama’s actions to destroy America’s capitalist constitutional republic are only fiction; will certainly believe that my “Halloween Love Story”, a one person radio play, is a non-fiction autobiographical account of Texas Drifter’s younger days.
Editor’s note by Marshall -Texas Drifter being the consummate romantic, has said “I decided to rename one of my favorite short story writing exercises; why, guess I am getting to be an old softie.” He continued, "Following writing exercise is an example of using 2,216 words to first entertain, and second educate you the reader with twenty-eight words. Americans who do not yet believe Obama and his America last minions are using satanic evil to destroy everything American are obviously too blanked up to know they are blanked up." Editor’s closing thought, intellectual integrity requires those believing in existence of good spiritual forces, must also believe in existence of evil spiritual forces.
“Texas Drifter’s Halloween Love Story” starts now:
What do out of work investigators dislike more than bad guys, answer telephones. Phones never seem to bring good news, and always bother you when you don’t need to be bothered. As Heaven is my witness, one of these mornings, afternoons, or nights, I am going to use my phone for target practice.
Texas jerked my eleven year ticket to manage investigations in the Lone Star State for moral turpitude. Not mine, theirs. It seems that private political corruption investigations are immoral in Texas. After repeated warnings from state officials to stop investigating “honest elected officials”; I changed the “x” in Texas on my business cards and invoices to a swastika.
Apparently bureaucrats better suited to being welfare recipients do not have a sense of humor. All that aside, It’s my problem not yours that I am presently financially embarrassed because my ticket to make a living has been “Indefinitely” revoked.
It was sometime after midnight when I had just laid down for a good night’s sleep. My only hopes were that the utility company did not cut my water off; before I got up to fix my usual water and cereal breakfast
As predicted, the phone started ringing shortly after my mind was lost to the world. I barely recognized the frantic voice as that of a friend who always seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
After getting him to speak slower and not so loud; I was able to gather that he had hit a pedestrian at dead man’s curve, but could not find the body. He wanted me meet him at dead man’s curve with my night vision equipment and heat detector to try and help him find the body.
Told him that I would be there in about twenty minutes, being honest, I wasn’t thinking about what we would do if I found the body, but how l might be able to get gas money and a real breakfast out of this venture.
First thing I noticed while greeting my friend was that there was no damage to his car. After explaining that this favor was going to cost him gas and a real breakfast; he blurted out there was a woman standing in the middle of the road as he came out of the curve. “She was just there; I tried to swerve but it was too late! I saw her roll over the right side of the hood, and slide off by the passenger door!”
Walking over and pointing to the right headlight, I tried to reassure him with the observation that there was zero damage to his car, and that kind of impact would have had to trash his fiberglass fenders. I was just about to suggest that we go find a truck stop for my gas and breakfast when I noticed what appeared to be a white veil dangling from the passenger’s door side mirror.
He watched while I spent the next two hours scouring the immediate area with my night vision and heat detecting equipment nothing absolutely nothing. Told him after a real breakfast and getting a full tank of gas that he should not say anything to anybody while I made a few inquires.
My first thought was to call Karol about lunch time to see what clues the white veil provided. Karol is the textbook forensic scientist: reserved intellectual doll always in long white lab coat, big glasses, and hair up in a bun.
After she repeated my favorite words, “I’m buying”; I headed over to her favorite vegetarian cafe to see what she might be able to tell me about my only clue. Meal was alright for people who live on rabbit food. She did tell me that the veil was at least a hundred years old, and that she would run some tests to give me a better time frame.
My next contact would be Tanya, a vice cop. I knew that Tanya came on duty about seven that night, you guessed it supper time. Tanya’s “I’m buying” made me look forward to dinner. No more rabbit food. Shrimp marinated in orange sauce is not usually a part of my diet, but seeing Tanya in her undercover costumes was always pleasing to the senses.
Explained to Tanya, that I was helping a friend for gas money; would really owe her if she asked me about any recent missing person reports. After leaving Tanya while heading home, I was thinking that I should draw a circle on the calendar around today’s date: three meals in one day - who need’s bureaucrats when you got friends?
Like an instant replay: It was sometime after midnight when I had just laid down for a good night’s sleep. My only hopes were that the utility company did not cut my water off; before I got up to fix my usual water and cereal breakfast
As predicted, the phone started ringing shortly after my mind was lost to the world. This time the voice was cold and calculated not frantic. It was Tanya asking me to meet her at dead man’s curve.
As I started clearing dead man’s curve I became a witness to one more emergency vehicles light show. Upon exiting my vehicle, Tanya approached and asked me to follow her. She led me over to a black body bag; took the towel off the victim’s face and asked, “Is this your fiend?”
Before I could answer, Tanya quipped “Look at his face. The coroner says fear killed him. Is this your friend?”
My crisp answer: he was.
Tanya seemed to forget that we had been dinner companions just hours before: “I want to know what you are working on.”
Being honest, I told her: I don’t know. As I was walking away, Tanya half way yelled “No more, until you tell me what’s going on.”
What a day, from three good meals to losing two meal tickets. Why do I know tomorrow is not going to be much better. Sure enough, the next day started out with dry cereal for breakfast because the water department started their day by repossessing my water meter.
No time to explain or complain as I still had to figure out whom or what had scared my friend to death. I sure wanted get back on Tanya’s occasional guest for dinner list. Thought I would start by trying to meet Laurel for lunch.
Maybe she would convey my most recent popular phrase; “I’m buying”. Being the county’s most relentless journalist, the lady is best distinguished by her business suits with creases that rival those seen in military reviews. At this point I would have been grateful for fast food.
Texas Drifter knew that if anybody could identify sources of information about dead man’s curve, it had to be her. Just as sure as rainbows follow thunderstorms, she had the answer: an old historian currently suffering from degenerative senile dementia.
After spending a couple of hours with the occasionally lucid nursing home resident, I was able to come up with the following legend. The name of the woman that my friend had supposedly seen in the middle of the road, roughly translates from traditional lore as “the tears lady”. Unconfirmed individual sightings of the woman have been reported for almost 250 years.
The story goes that a young Indian maiden converted and renamed Margarita by Spanish priests became involved with a prominent Spanish land owner in the mid 1700’s. The girl became pregnant and bore the land owners child out of wedlock. The land baron after learning of the unholy birth kidnapped the child and abandoned the infant in South Texas brush country.
Myth has it that Margarita spent the rest of her life crying hysterically while wandering through the thorny thicket looking for her lost child. Later legend has it that she would stand in the middle of the road trying to cause wagons to overturn when horses veered off the road.
It is also said that sometimes she would be seen on the side of the road and latter appear on the backs of horses or in the backs of wagons of those who passed her by. Myth warns that those who turn to gaze at her will see a face so horrible that they shall be scared to death.
As to what she wants, nobody has ever survived her temptations to look upon her original beauty to know the answer; but her desires probably involve something that only the living can accomplish as spirits have physical limitations.
Upon arriving back at my cluttered "Free Spirit" fifth wheel, I decided to skip supper and just call Karol for an update of test results on the white veil. She seemed surprised when I asker her if the veil dated back to the 1750’s. Her response: If you are going to waste my time asking me things you already know, you can find yourself another meal ticket.
Somewhere somehow, my thought processes had turned from future meal tickets to returning to dead man’s curve. Instincts were warning me that I had to avoid swerving and force myself to drive through Margarita’s apparition. Intentionally running down victims may come easy for some people, but I knew I needed an edge.
Since the plan was to stay alert; drugs were not the answer; maybe technology could make the difference. I set the cruise control at fifty before entering dead man’s curve; now all I had to do was concentrate on running straight and keeping my foot off the brake and accelerator. As I cleared the curve, what had been a clear night turned to the blackest fog I had ever seen. Suddenly there in middle of the road standing and waving; as if welcoming me out of the fog.
My only thoughts were drive straight and keep away from the brakes. I do not remember what came first, her screams, the sounds of her hitting the car, or my outburst of a single profanity. I apologize for not remembering the sequence, but I was distracted by her rolling over the hood into the windshield.
Maybe it was Poe like terror or pure concentration that kept me from turning the wheel, who knows; but somehow I managed to avoid swerving and come to a slow measured stop. As suddenly as Margarita had appeared in the road, I was out of my car screaming verbal challenges, it seems that I had lost control of all my emotions.
The unplanned release of adrenalin suddenly reminded me that I still had to face Margarita’s temptations. In a renewed calmness I turned and stepped back into my car. In what seemed like passing inspiration, I reached up and tore off the rear view mirror before resetting the cruise control. My vehicle had not traveled thirty feet when I heard breathing highlighted by whimpering moans coming right behind me from the back seat.
In another flash of inspiration I reached over and turned on the radio, but the radio failed to generate a single sound. Put yourself in my place; imagine you were me; how would you feel when hot sultry breath punctuated with gurgling growls covered the back of your neck? Would you have turned to look into that face, or swerved out of reflex?
Being honest, I almost crossed the border of losing all self control when Margi, I was too terrified to remember her full name, started howling and running those colder than ice fingernails down the base of my skull. Right before losing all control, I noticed Margi along the side the road walking into the fog and mesquite thicket.
With out thinking I slammed on the brakes and stopped within feet of her exit point; without turning around, her barely audible fleeting words were: “A cross for my child made from the heart of the ebony.”
I spent most of the next morning looking for a suitable piece of ebony, and another ten hours making and polishing a small cross. I never knew that the heart of ebony was such hard wood.
The phone rang shortly before the ten o’clock news; Laurel wanted an update on my activities. Told her that I couldn’t explain what I didn’t understand. She is incredibly patient, but told me to find another meal ticket until I had a better answer.
Spent the following hours waiting for the phone to ring; suddenly as if I were possessed, I picked up the silent phone only to hear “It’s Margi, I’m buying”.
Being someone who always keeps their promise, I took my double action forty caliber out from under my pillow and shot that darn phone twice. After tossing the pistol on the bed, I reached over and picked up the cross for a child made from the heart of the ebony. As for this time tomorrow, don’t have a clue.
Marshall’s Law Townhall Dateline – “Halloween Love Story” was originally entitled “Heart of The Ebony”. Any American who still believes that Obama’s actions to destroy America’s capitalist constitutional republic are only fiction; will certainly believe that my “Halloween Love Story”, a one person radio play, is a non-fiction autobiographical account of Texas Drifter’s younger days.
Editor’s note by Marshall -Texas Drifter being the consummate romantic, has said “I decided to rename one of my favorite short story writing exercises; why, guess I am getting to be an old softie.” He continued, "Following writing exercise is an example of using 2,216 words to first entertain, and second educate you the reader with twenty-eight words. Americans who do not yet believe Obama and his America last minions are using satanic evil to destroy everything American are obviously too blanked up to know they are blanked up." Editor’s closing thought, intellectual integrity requires those believing in existence of good spiritual forces, must also believe in existence of evil spiritual forces.
“Texas Drifter’s Halloween Love Story” starts now:
What do out of work investigators dislike more than bad guys, answer telephones. Phones never seem to bring good news, and always bother you when you don’t need to be bothered. As Heaven is my witness, one of these mornings, afternoons, or nights, I am going to use my phone for target practice.
Texas jerked my eleven year ticket to manage investigations in the Lone Star State for moral turpitude. Not mine, theirs. It seems that private political corruption investigations are immoral in Texas. After repeated warnings from state officials to stop investigating “honest elected officials”; I changed the “x” in Texas on my business cards and invoices to a swastika.
Apparently bureaucrats better suited to being welfare recipients do not have a sense of humor. All that aside, It’s my problem not yours that I am presently financially embarrassed because my ticket to make a living has been “Indefinitely” revoked.
It was sometime after midnight when I had just laid down for a good night’s sleep. My only hopes were that the utility company did not cut my water off; before I got up to fix my usual water and cereal breakfast
As predicted, the phone started ringing shortly after my mind was lost to the world. I barely recognized the frantic voice as that of a friend who always seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
After getting him to speak slower and not so loud; I was able to gather that he had hit a pedestrian at dead man’s curve, but could not find the body. He wanted me meet him at dead man’s curve with my night vision equipment and heat detector to try and help him find the body.
Told him that I would be there in about twenty minutes, being honest, I wasn’t thinking about what we would do if I found the body, but how l might be able to get gas money and a real breakfast out of this venture.
First thing I noticed while greeting my friend was that there was no damage to his car. After explaining that this favor was going to cost him gas and a real breakfast; he blurted out there was a woman standing in the middle of the road as he came out of the curve. “She was just there; I tried to swerve but it was too late! I saw her roll over the right side of the hood, and slide off by the passenger door!”
Walking over and pointing to the right headlight, I tried to reassure him with the observation that there was zero damage to his car, and that kind of impact would have had to trash his fiberglass fenders. I was just about to suggest that we go find a truck stop for my gas and breakfast when I noticed what appeared to be a white veil dangling from the passenger’s door side mirror.
He watched while I spent the next two hours scouring the immediate area with my night vision and heat detecting equipment nothing absolutely nothing. Told him after a real breakfast and getting a full tank of gas that he should not say anything to anybody while I made a few inquires.
My first thought was to call Karol about lunch time to see what clues the white veil provided. Karol is the textbook forensic scientist: reserved intellectual doll always in long white lab coat, big glasses, and hair up in a bun.
After she repeated my favorite words, “I’m buying”; I headed over to her favorite vegetarian cafe to see what she might be able to tell me about my only clue. Meal was alright for people who live on rabbit food. She did tell me that the veil was at least a hundred years old, and that she would run some tests to give me a better time frame.
My next contact would be Tanya, a vice cop. I knew that Tanya came on duty about seven that night, you guessed it supper time. Tanya’s “I’m buying” made me look forward to dinner. No more rabbit food. Shrimp marinated in orange sauce is not usually a part of my diet, but seeing Tanya in her undercover costumes was always pleasing to the senses.
Explained to Tanya, that I was helping a friend for gas money; would really owe her if she asked me about any recent missing person reports. After leaving Tanya while heading home, I was thinking that I should draw a circle on the calendar around today’s date: three meals in one day - who need’s bureaucrats when you got friends?
Like an instant replay: It was sometime after midnight when I had just laid down for a good night’s sleep. My only hopes were that the utility company did not cut my water off; before I got up to fix my usual water and cereal breakfast
As predicted, the phone started ringing shortly after my mind was lost to the world. This time the voice was cold and calculated not frantic. It was Tanya asking me to meet her at dead man’s curve.
As I started clearing dead man’s curve I became a witness to one more emergency vehicles light show. Upon exiting my vehicle, Tanya approached and asked me to follow her. She led me over to a black body bag; took the towel off the victim’s face and asked, “Is this your fiend?”
Before I could answer, Tanya quipped “Look at his face. The coroner says fear killed him. Is this your friend?”
My crisp answer: he was.
Tanya seemed to forget that we had been dinner companions just hours before: “I want to know what you are working on.”
Being honest, I told her: I don’t know. As I was walking away, Tanya half way yelled “No more, until you tell me what’s going on.”
What a day, from three good meals to losing two meal tickets. Why do I know tomorrow is not going to be much better. Sure enough, the next day started out with dry cereal for breakfast because the water department started their day by repossessing my water meter.
No time to explain or complain as I still had to figure out whom or what had scared my friend to death. I sure wanted get back on Tanya’s occasional guest for dinner list. Thought I would start by trying to meet Laurel for lunch.
Maybe she would convey my most recent popular phrase; “I’m buying”. Being the county’s most relentless journalist, the lady is best distinguished by her business suits with creases that rival those seen in military reviews. At this point I would have been grateful for fast food.
Texas Drifter knew that if anybody could identify sources of information about dead man’s curve, it had to be her. Just as sure as rainbows follow thunderstorms, she had the answer: an old historian currently suffering from degenerative senile dementia.
After spending a couple of hours with the occasionally lucid nursing home resident, I was able to come up with the following legend. The name of the woman that my friend had supposedly seen in the middle of the road, roughly translates from traditional lore as “the tears lady”. Unconfirmed individual sightings of the woman have been reported for almost 250 years.
The story goes that a young Indian maiden converted and renamed Margarita by Spanish priests became involved with a prominent Spanish land owner in the mid 1700’s. The girl became pregnant and bore the land owners child out of wedlock. The land baron after learning of the unholy birth kidnapped the child and abandoned the infant in South Texas brush country.
Myth has it that Margarita spent the rest of her life crying hysterically while wandering through the thorny thicket looking for her lost child. Later legend has it that she would stand in the middle of the road trying to cause wagons to overturn when horses veered off the road.
It is also said that sometimes she would be seen on the side of the road and latter appear on the backs of horses or in the backs of wagons of those who passed her by. Myth warns that those who turn to gaze at her will see a face so horrible that they shall be scared to death.
As to what she wants, nobody has ever survived her temptations to look upon her original beauty to know the answer; but her desires probably involve something that only the living can accomplish as spirits have physical limitations.
Upon arriving back at my cluttered "Free Spirit" fifth wheel, I decided to skip supper and just call Karol for an update of test results on the white veil. She seemed surprised when I asker her if the veil dated back to the 1750’s. Her response: If you are going to waste my time asking me things you already know, you can find yourself another meal ticket.
Somewhere somehow, my thought processes had turned from future meal tickets to returning to dead man’s curve. Instincts were warning me that I had to avoid swerving and force myself to drive through Margarita’s apparition. Intentionally running down victims may come easy for some people, but I knew I needed an edge.
Since the plan was to stay alert; drugs were not the answer; maybe technology could make the difference. I set the cruise control at fifty before entering dead man’s curve; now all I had to do was concentrate on running straight and keeping my foot off the brake and accelerator. As I cleared the curve, what had been a clear night turned to the blackest fog I had ever seen. Suddenly there in middle of the road standing and waving; as if welcoming me out of the fog.
My only thoughts were drive straight and keep away from the brakes. I do not remember what came first, her screams, the sounds of her hitting the car, or my outburst of a single profanity. I apologize for not remembering the sequence, but I was distracted by her rolling over the hood into the windshield.
Maybe it was Poe like terror or pure concentration that kept me from turning the wheel, who knows; but somehow I managed to avoid swerving and come to a slow measured stop. As suddenly as Margarita had appeared in the road, I was out of my car screaming verbal challenges, it seems that I had lost control of all my emotions.
The unplanned release of adrenalin suddenly reminded me that I still had to face Margarita’s temptations. In a renewed calmness I turned and stepped back into my car. In what seemed like passing inspiration, I reached up and tore off the rear view mirror before resetting the cruise control. My vehicle had not traveled thirty feet when I heard breathing highlighted by whimpering moans coming right behind me from the back seat.
In another flash of inspiration I reached over and turned on the radio, but the radio failed to generate a single sound. Put yourself in my place; imagine you were me; how would you feel when hot sultry breath punctuated with gurgling growls covered the back of your neck? Would you have turned to look into that face, or swerved out of reflex?
Being honest, I almost crossed the border of losing all self control when Margi, I was too terrified to remember her full name, started howling and running those colder than ice fingernails down the base of my skull. Right before losing all control, I noticed Margi along the side the road walking into the fog and mesquite thicket.
With out thinking I slammed on the brakes and stopped within feet of her exit point; without turning around, her barely audible fleeting words were: “A cross for my child made from the heart of the ebony.”
I spent most of the next morning looking for a suitable piece of ebony, and another ten hours making and polishing a small cross. I never knew that the heart of ebony was such hard wood.
The phone rang shortly before the ten o’clock news; Laurel wanted an update on my activities. Told her that I couldn’t explain what I didn’t understand. She is incredibly patient, but told me to find another meal ticket until I had a better answer.
Spent the following hours waiting for the phone to ring; suddenly as if I were possessed, I picked up the silent phone only to hear “It’s Margi, I’m buying”.
Being someone who always keeps their promise, I took my double action forty caliber out from under my pillow and shot that darn phone twice. After tossing the pistol on the bed, I reached over and picked up the cross for a child made from the heart of the ebony. As for this time tomorrow, don’t have a clue.
Continue Plus 286
Texas Drifter Middle Class Myths Test
Marshall’s Law Townhall Dateline – Extremely frugal social research budget raises question, is America’s middle class determined by attitude or financial assets?
Factual observation, America’s middle class shared interests, beliefs and commonly shared fundamental attitude is based on Judeo-Christian principles, traditions, and values dependent on inalienable rights of life, liberty, and pursuit of free will happiness; as opposed to simple selfish vain greedy lust for financial assets.
While America’s aristocratic ruling elites; most public bureaucrats; public subsidy addicts; and illegal immigrants are motivated by variations of selfish world owes me spoiled brat greed which is driven by absence of any moral integrity. These groups include”
- Obama’s Marxist Fascists,
- Liberal Democrats,
- Tax payer supported non-productive bureaucrats,
- Public subsidy welfare addicts,
- Minority racists,
- Affirmative action employment activists,
- Moderate Republicans also called Rinos,
- Illegal immigrants depending on public subsidies, and
- Rest of America last crowd.
Reader’s assignment, answer following questions:
1. What is one of America’s middle classes’ primary goals? Clue, playing by rules to leave their children opportunity for better future than their parents’ had.
2. What is middle classes’ breaking point? Clue, when middle class realizes that playing by rules (name the two American documents and one Holy book) will not give their children opportunity for better future than parents had.
3. List five middle class values.
4. List ten anti-middle class values.
5. List five middle class motives.
6. List ten anti-middle class motives.
7. List five each middle class local, state, and federal politicians (include both political parties).
8. List ten each anti-middle class local, state, and federal politicians include both political parties).
9. List five middle class non-living heroes.
10. List ten anti-middle class dastardly evil non-living tyrants.
11. True or False – Those trying to limit middle class standards to strictly financial assets are bad guys trying to cause America’s middle class citizens to abandon traditions which made America Heaven’s favorite constitutional due process republic.
That is the test which should provide answer to whether America’s middle class is determined by attitude or financial assets?
Two editor’s notes by Marshall: First, when I asked Texas Drifter for answers to above “Middle Class Myths’ Test”; he simply said if America’s middle class does not already know; they probably would not understand even if I graded their tests using crayons.
Editor’s second note: Texas drifter recently accepted new “Monte land” ranch scout assignment for different ranch; and will hopefully be back to his routine writing exercises schedule in couple of weeks. Recall, Texas Drifter loves working reverse affirmative action environments, where one careless or foolish mistake can quicker than lightning result in terminal injury or being other creatures’ suppers. (“Other’ creatures’ suppers is correct punctuation, as concept includes all scavengers waiting in line for first critter to fill up on careless or foolish.)
Marshall’s Law Townhall Dateline – Extremely frugal social research budget raises question, is America’s middle class determined by attitude or financial assets?
Factual observation, America’s middle class shared interests, beliefs and commonly shared fundamental attitude is based on Judeo-Christian principles, traditions, and values dependent on inalienable rights of life, liberty, and pursuit of free will happiness; as opposed to simple selfish vain greedy lust for financial assets.
While America’s aristocratic ruling elites; most public bureaucrats; public subsidy addicts; and illegal immigrants are motivated by variations of selfish world owes me spoiled brat greed which is driven by absence of any moral integrity. These groups include”
- Obama’s Marxist Fascists,
- Liberal Democrats,
- Tax payer supported non-productive bureaucrats,
- Public subsidy welfare addicts,
- Minority racists,
- Affirmative action employment activists,
- Moderate Republicans also called Rinos,
- Illegal immigrants depending on public subsidies, and
- Rest of America last crowd.
Reader’s assignment, answer following questions:
1. What is one of America’s middle classes’ primary goals? Clue, playing by rules to leave their children opportunity for better future than their parents’ had.
2. What is middle classes’ breaking point? Clue, when middle class realizes that playing by rules (name the two American documents and one Holy book) will not give their children opportunity for better future than parents had.
3. List five middle class values.
4. List ten anti-middle class values.
5. List five middle class motives.
6. List ten anti-middle class motives.
7. List five each middle class local, state, and federal politicians (include both political parties).
8. List ten each anti-middle class local, state, and federal politicians include both political parties).
9. List five middle class non-living heroes.
10. List ten anti-middle class dastardly evil non-living tyrants.
11. True or False – Those trying to limit middle class standards to strictly financial assets are bad guys trying to cause America’s middle class citizens to abandon traditions which made America Heaven’s favorite constitutional due process republic.
That is the test which should provide answer to whether America’s middle class is determined by attitude or financial assets?
Two editor’s notes by Marshall: First, when I asked Texas Drifter for answers to above “Middle Class Myths’ Test”; he simply said if America’s middle class does not already know; they probably would not understand even if I graded their tests using crayons.
Editor’s second note: Texas drifter recently accepted new “Monte land” ranch scout assignment for different ranch; and will hopefully be back to his routine writing exercises schedule in couple of weeks. Recall, Texas Drifter loves working reverse affirmative action environments, where one careless or foolish mistake can quicker than lightning result in terminal injury or being other creatures’ suppers. (“Other’ creatures’ suppers is correct punctuation, as concept includes all scavengers waiting in line for first critter to fill up on careless or foolish.)
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