Biden Parade Canceled

While I’m sure they will suggest that the reason that the inaugural parade for Joe Biden has been canceled …

..one really must Wonder if another reason is they’re concerned about the people showing up not being Biden supporters… And pointing out that the emperor has no clothes.

Ladies and gentlemen I urge you to consider the words of Thomas Jefferson…

“Can the liberties of a nation be thought secure when we have removed their only firm basis, a conviction in the minds of the people that these liberties are of the gift of God?”

–Thomas Jefferson: Notes on Virginia, 1782

Jefferson is saying, of course, that we cannot maintain Liberty absent that conviction. He’s quite right. But just as important…..Underneath that conviction of whence rights come is another conviction…

That God exists.

Both historically and currently government itself is the biggest usurper of Human Rights. Is it any wonder that the Believers in big government have been trying to use the power of government to convince us that God does not exist? To separate the American people from that belief?

Just something to think about today.

Apparently nobody remembers that on the leading edge of this covid-19 thing, the scientists… Including Anthony Fauci… The latest darling of the Democrat party… Was telling us that to shut down travel to and from China was racist and not scientific. Wasn’t it Nancy Pelosi who was telling everybody that we should all go down to Chinatown and have dinner? They even went so far as to, in the mainstream media, remove the name “Wuhan” from the virus. You see these news organizations want to do business in china. So, too, Google, Facebook, Twitter, and so on.

But let’s stick to the use of science for just a moment.

Let’s see… are these the same scientists that tell us that by 1980 the seas will be boiling?

Or, are they the same scientist who told us back in the 70s that the oceans would be frozen by now… In both those cases The cure was succumb to the government’s demand that we stop driving large automobiles?

Is this the same science that tells us that leeches are a medical tool?

Is this the same science that tells us that black people are inherently inferior, and human weeds to be expunged from the planet?

Are these the same scientists who told us that Thalidomide was safe? *

You see the fact of the matter is “science” has gotten it wrong so many times that they’ve actually gotten it wrong more than they’ve gotten it right.

There’s even a few scientists out there that are saying exactly that, but unfortunately for the most part, we can’t even get them to use the now hackneyed phrase “mistakes were made”.

Meanwhile, businesses get shut down, lives ruined, energy costs go through the ceiling and we find ourselves with an ever more powerful government… (And in case you haven’t noticed, every time we are urged to believe the science, what we’re really being asked to do is turn increasing portions of our life and increasing power over to politicians who simply put our nuts sciences but simply are seeking power for themselves.)

At the bottom line, is the idea that for the most part, “science” is over educated, inaccurate guesswork, and is, often as not, politically or financially motivated, or, frankly, motivated by the lust for being famous and seeing your name in the headlines.

And then of course government gets into the act, putting the force of law and government behind the guesswork …which of course does nothing but amplify the problems.

Consider the intrusions to your daily life. Using science as a shield, government can now dictate to you what kind of car you should drive, what kind of light bulb you can use, how much water your toilet can hold, what kind of food you can’t eat, how much power you are appliances can consume, how much hot water your appliances can consume and so on. All in the name of science, and all of it in the name of improving your lot, which of course it doesn’t. It turns out as we’ve said here many times that ethanol does nothing to reduce air pollution although it does increase the cost of driving an automobile and it also tends to damage engines and exhaust systems. Just one more example.

So then we come to the aforementioned Wuhan virus. Despite the number of flip flops on the so-called scientific facts of the case, we are, by force of law, compelled not to live our lives. Many of us, as a result of government again using science as a shield, have not been working in months.

The one thing about Donald Trump’s presidency that the Democrats couldn’t argue with was the wild economic success… until that is China released its Wuhan virus on the world. and so businesses get shut down the economy gets basically crippled and our national debt gets ever higher. (And we’re supposed to ignore the idea that China greatly preferred Mr Trump’s opposition being the White House)

And that reminds us that there’s the election to consider. We’ve all known since square one that mail in voting is an excellent opportunity for fraudsters but we waive the magic wand of science and suddenly we have record numbers of mail in votes many of which turn out to have been printed in China.

How very convenient.

There are some I suppose who want me to be generous and suggest that the scientists and the government hacks are well intentioned.  It’s all to make us safe, and protect us from harm and it’s for the greater good, so we’re told.

Leaving aside the list of construction materials for the road to hell, I think I’ll let CS Lewis address this one:

Of all tyrannies, a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive. It would be better to live under robber barons than under omnipotent moral busybodies. The robber baron’s cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity may at some point be satiated; but those who torment us for our own good will torment us without end for they do so with the approval of their own conscience. They may be more likely to go to Heaven yet at the same time likelier to make a Hell of earth. This very kindness stings with intolerable insult. To be “cured” against one’s will and cured of states which we may not regard as disease is to be put on a level of those who have not yet reached the age of reason or those who never will; to be classed with infants, imbeciles, and domestic animals.

… All of which rings quite true… in this case, the very phrase “believe the science” denotes an attitude of. “If you don’t, you’re an imbecile.”

That, of course, is part and parcel of the ‘anti-intellectual” charge that we hear so often from the same crowd. The prevailing attitude appears to be that we should be taking the word of our betters and not questioning it because after all they are, well, better than us.

That attitude however, would seem to suggest that there is a limit to human knowledge and that varies from person to person.

But here’s the thing…. What if the limits of human understanding are inherent to the guys in the white lab coats as well as the supposed country bumpkins?

Now, I’m sure there are those who will view this as staunchly anti-science, as if I’m attacking their religion. Which, in more than one way, I suppose I am. The elevation of science to a religion would certainly explain the attitude of some that science and government are both infallible and omnipotent. Thus the phrase “science knows”.

The problem of course, is that science is a process not an omnipotent being. And therefore, science doesn’t know a damn thing.

Science a process employed by fallible human beings, mortals all, and there are cognitive limits on every human being which need to be accounted for in this discussion, as well as emotional political and monetary motivations for pursuing a particular scientific tack, any and all of which pollute that process and any results that it might come up with.

And before I leave you, allow me to point up that every time, without any exception at all, politics and science get cross-linked, it benefits big government and its proponents.

*(Ironically, The whistleblower in that case was later convicted of scientific fraud in another matter.)

** C.S. Lewis, God in the Dock: Essays on Theology (Making of Modern Theology)

Tamara Keel writes:

While writing to Slate’s parenting advice column on the topic of practical firearms safety would seem to make about as much sense as writing to Soldier of Fortune for advice on potty-training or getting your toddler to eat broccoli, someone apparently has done just that.

Actually, they don’t want gun safety advice, they just want some validation and asspats for ruining family gatherings with their anti-gun outbursts, and I guess Slate seemed like a good place to go for some of that.

Well, assuming the Democrats managed to drag the carcass of basement Joe Biden over the finish line, this is going to be just the opening round of virtue signaling over the next four years, as every leftist wet dreamer turns it up to Volume 11.

Didn’t anybody notice that over the last four years gun control was seemingly not on anyone’s agenda? Well you can relax now because it’s back. That’s because the assumption is that they have the Democrat party architecture in power and can accomplish their fantasies.

AT&T got a contract to do forensic audit on Dominion voting machines and those machines were being moved to Nashville this past week.

The former owner of the AT&T building in Nashville, William Kennard, is a board member for Cerberus Capital Management and AT&T…. He also was Bill Clinton’s FCC chair, and Obama’s Ambassador to the EU.

Dominion voting is owned by Cerberus Capital Management…. Cerberus is run by Staple Street Execs. Joe Bidens Brother in Law, Steven Owens, is the cofounder of Staple Street Execs along with William Kennard (mentioned above).

Super Computer in TN was connected to the AT&T internet in NASHVILLE…. yesterday evening the Cumberland river cooling system was compromised due to internet outage and Supercomputer fried…..

If you don’t know, “Kraken” is a reference to a supercomputer former prosecuter, Sidney Powell, has been talking about.

So, the explosion “just happened” to be at the AT&T location where they “just so happen” to control the cooling system for the super computer and house the dominion voting machines and drives for forensic audit…

Does it make sense now why no lives were lost? Does it make sense now why the FBI task lead couldn’t even put together a coherent sentence in the press conference yesterday? Does it make sense why the mayor was making light of the situation, almost laughing yesterday?

*Still think we are all crazy? 🤷🏻‍♀️

Edtor’s note:

Once again as in years past, I’ve found my inbox filled with messages from longtime readers who wonder if I’m going to be re-posting “A Bithead’s Christmas”, and begging me to do so.

As I believe I’ve told you in previous years, I get more email about this one single post, these 2900 or so words, then I have about anything else written here. And it happens every single year. Either this one post is particularly good, or the rest of it is comparatively bad. You’ll forgive me if in my vanity, I believe the former. I take that they’re using Email, instead of simply leaving comments, to mean that I’ve struck a very personal and private nerve. Touching people in that fashion is a very rare thing, and one I take very seriously, so the answer to the question is “Yes, of course I’ll run it again”.

Understand going in, it may not be politically correct. I seek no absolution, no forgiveness, for it’s being overtly Christian in nature, any more than I seek absolution or forgiveness for anything else that I put into these spaces. It is what it is, because Christmas is what it is, and because I speak my mind on the topic at hand, whatever that is.

Christmas, and thereby, Christianity itself, has been going on for a little over 2000 years, in spite of all the naysayers, protesters and government regulations that history has managed to toss up in those 2000- plus years. It does so, because at the core of it all, is a message…….. a message that all the naysayers, protesters and government hacks will never understand, much less conquer. It is a message that will survive the ravages of time, government, and liberals, fascists, and anything and everything else, long after you and I are no longer even a memory in this world. The Christmas message, you see, is eternal, and ever green.

(Evergreen. I am suddenly struck with the symbolism here)
There is something of a journalistic precedent for this as well. . . I do not pretend to hold myself quite so high in the world as these media outlets who have such traditions as “Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus”… but they’ve been getting away with such things for well over 100 years, so I suppose I can get away with it, here.

One of the things that man has always found fascinating about the Christmas story, is that you can reread it all your life, and every time you reread it, you find a new truth buried within it, so perhaps that’s WHY we get away with repeating such stories. It’s perhaps where such traditions come from.

So with all this in mind, and with the hope of helping you find new meaning in this season… and peace… a personal peace… in these troubled times, I will offer once again this year:

A Bithead’s Christmas

I find myself wanting to take more seriously, the challenge of writing to the subject of Christmas, today, than I have in years past. It’s not clear in my mind as to why, but this isn’t unusual… I never really do have a firm grip on why I want to attack a subject in these spaces. In fact, the writing of a coulmn for me has becomes more an effort of exploring a subject; the codification of random thoughts. The act of putting those thoughts into words on a screen allows me to think about, and RE-think about the subject at hand. My thoughts on a given subject often do not fully take shape until such time as I’ve re-written them twice. Often, indeed… usually, the ideas are already there, waiting to be cast into words, but not fully defined until the act of sitting down and typing them out. I suppose this subject is no exception.
To this effort, some blogs, this time of year will quote the great Gospels of Christ’s arrival, and expound on that. And that’s worthy, and right. Some others will take the secular angle of the holiday and go off on that. That too, is fine, though frankly it’s always for me missed the core of the topic, a little.
But not me, for either of those tacks. Not this year. I’m going to go off the beaten path, for this post, at least in context of this blog, given it’s Christmas, and off the beaten path in terms of the Liturgical calendar, given it’s me. I’m going to stick with the meaning of Christmas, but to point it up, I’m going to turn to something a little later… about 30 years later… for my subject. I trust you’ll see why when I’m done.
This story is in Matthew, Mark, and Luke. We’ll use Luke’s version for the purpose.

In Luke 18 it reads:

15 Now they were bringing even infants to him that he might touch them; and when the disciples saw it, they rebuked them. 16 But Jesus called them to him, saying, “Let the children come to me, and do not hinder them; for to such belongs the kingdom of God. 17 Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it.”

Now, all three versions add a little something to the story, and I suggest you read them yourself to get it all.

Most times that Christians hear this text or read it, a child is being baptized. The apparently intended thrust of reading it in those situations is to make a loose connection with the Children being accepted by Christ. And, that’s a valid angle for the story. But, think about the story line, here, so you can get the flavor of what I’m going to describe to you. There’s a far bigger angle that many miss.
See, Christ has been playing “superstar” for a while, now. He’s been attracting flat out huge crowds wherever he goes. The disciples are starting to become concerned for the (human) well being of Christ. Children are, then as now, a source of some stress to adults already under stress, so the disciples decide, wordlessly to give the Lord a break. But Jesus says.. “Hey… No.. Let ’em come… It’s OK. ” Apparently, seeing some remaining resistance in their eyes, he reinforces the command with a statement that must have shaken them badly. “It’s to the likes of these as belongs the Kingdom of God.”
Now, It’s not hard for us to imagine what’s going on in the minds of the disciples…. They must have felt a little put back… While not saying so, they must have figured they had an inside track to Heaven. (Shrug) It’s human nature.
The passages don’t record if they said anything, but you just know what they’re thinking, here… “Comon, Jesus… We’re tryin’ to give you a break here! And you elevate these lowest of low, mere children, into the ownership of heaven? You raise a polite nothing to a path to heaven and eternity? What’s THAT about?”
And you know, Jesus knows it too. He knows full well what they’re thinking, because watch what he comes back with: “I’ll tell you the truth;”, he says, “Unless you change… Unless you transform, and accept the kingdom of heaven like a child, you’ll never enter it.”
But what does he mean, here? He’s talking, I’m afraid, about how you lose touch with happiness and the sense of wonder, as you become an adult. That loss prevents us from seeing the Kingdom of heaven as it is.
For most of us, the happiest times of our lives was when we were children. When we’re younger, we have less in the way of cares, and troubles. Let’s admit, too, that as we get older, we become aware of, and allow more and more sadness into our lives.
It’s true; It’s a hard world out there, and being adults we’ve come to understand this, in a way of understanding that only long exposure and experience… and lots of scar tissue, can bring.
It seems that every year we have more worries and concerns.

Oh, yeah, do we EVER worry. We worry about our health, and those concerns increase with advancing age.

We worry about our jobs, about our investments, our savings, about the future in general. Retirement is a concern. Will we have enough? We’re too fat, we’re too skinny. We’re too tall, we’re too short, our once wavy hair is still waving… Only, it’s waving bye-bye. We worry about the future our kids will have and the normal growing up problems, but we also worry about the future that we’ve left our kids. We look at the news, and we wonder what kind of a world have we left them? We even worry if we worry too much.
We’ve seen marriages and relationships we thought would pass the test of time, pass away, instead. Things we had hoped would come to pass, didn’t, and those we’d not dreamed, in our wildest nightmares would happen, did. We see loved ones die. Jobs disappear. Hearts get broken.
And friends, those are just the hum-drum... The everyday worries that every generation has had, since Cain bopped his brother’s bean with a rock. Then you get into the problems particular to us and our times; AIDS, oil shortages, cancer, drugs, the way our own technology seems to be spiraling out of our control…

And Islamofacists.

Ah, yes, there’s nothing at all, to my mind, like the specter of 3000 plus people dying on national television, in Washington, NY and Pennsylvania… while we watch, to remind us that we’re not in control.

(Editor: And now, viruses that are seemingly out of our control.)

And yes…. it’s all about control, if you think on it for long. All these things I’ve listed are worries about things we cannot control, try as we might.

The list of these reverses, these scars, gets longer as the years progress, and it starts eventually, to break down the positive outlook in every one of us… Each according to their ability to resist. Each step, each worry, each bit of emotional scar tissue, if you will, moves us farther away from the relative joy of our comparatively carefree childhood.

By now the sharper among you will notice where I’m going with this; This is where Christmas comes in. This is why Christmas holds a special place in our hearts, and our traditions.
You see, even for the not-so-religious, it is a time of renewal of our fragile human spirit. All of the hurts, small and large, become less pronounced, and fade under the soft glow of the lights, the candles, the fireplace, and the smile of the children.

Have you ever noticed that it’s the children, in fact, that do us the most healing? Christmas, it’s said, is for the children. Presidential speechwriter and WSJ columnist Peggy Noonan noted recently about some of the qualities of children:

“They are susceptible to wonder. A child can look at a red toy car in the red-green glow of Christmas tree lights and imagine an entire lifetime. A child can play with a new doll and smell good things being cooked and hear sweet music and it can make that child imagine that life is good, which gives her a template for good, a category for good; it helps her know good exists. This knowledge comes in handy in life; those who do not receive it, one way or another, are sadder than those who do.”

Of course, we move away from that ability as we grow older. Our long experience has hardened us to the realities of the world around us, and perhaps jaded our point of view. But here comes Christmas, which gives us, individually and collectively, the chance of looking at the world through the wonder-filled eyes of a child once again… Becoming childlike ourselves in the process, and becoming healed and renewed.
The experience is a far deeper one for those who have accepted the Christmas promise, and it’s meaning. Reacting to that promise includes allowing someone else to run the controls of our lives. Remember I said it was all about control? Well, I want you to think about the features of being a child. It was Randall Jarrell, I think, who once quipped:

“One of the most obvious facts about grownups to a child is that they have forgotten what it is like to be a child.”

Well, let’s remember.

You’re NOT in control of much of anything. Someone who knows better, and is by far more powerful than we, is running things. And looking back, I’m sure most of us would conclude that having that situation back would be of comfort to us. Haven’t we all wished to resign from the world of adulthood at times?

I guess this would be a good place to slip in a parallel story.

Consider the fictional person of Ebeneezer Scrooge. Think about how the story develops; He’s had some serious emotional setbacks in early life… and those have become a self-feeding, never ending circle by the time we meet him, 7 years after his best friend’s death.

All these setbacks have made him cold, and hard, and for all outward appearances, non-feeling. He’s covered with emotional scar tissue. Being hard, is his way of dealing with what he cannot control. Only after his overnight experience do all these cares get swept away, along with his anger of not being able to control his situation…. The realization comes to him that he never really WAS in control in the first place, so stop fretting about it all… Think about what are essentially the first words out of his mouth as he realizes that the weight of his worries.. Not unlike worries you and I have had, are gone; “I’m as light as a feather….” The weight of that scar tissue… And all the concerns they represent having been lifted off his shoulders…
“…and as giddy as a Schoolboy!”

Like.

A.

Child.

“I’ll tell you the truth”, he said, “Unless you change.. Unless you transform, and accept the kingdom of heaven like a child, you’ll never enter it.”

Amazing parallels, aren’t they?

I’m reliably informed that Charles Dickens was not as a rule what one would call very religious. Yet, in looking at the parallels in these two story lines, I must wonder in all honesty if he didn’t have some help with “A Christmas Carol”.
Now, you’ll notice I took some liberty with the way the Biblical text was quoted. Some liberty, I say, but not very much, really, since it’s long been pointed out by Bible scholars that the word that earlier versions of the text had as ‘change’ were really translated from the ancient Greek word for “transform”. This is a major point, because it demonstrates what the first step is, and whose it is… yours.

And no, change and transformation are not the same thing. The best description I’ve ever thought of to explain the difference between the two, runs along these lines:
If I take a rock, and in the other hand

I take a large hammer, and I hit the rock with the hammer, and break it, I’ve changed that rock. If I take that same rock, and take a small hammer and chisel, and very carefully, perhaps over a period of decades, sculpt that rock into a flower, I’ve still merely changed that rock.

Transformation, on the other hand, is when the rock itself, as a matter of responding to it’s own will, becomes a flower. And of course that’s beyond the normal power of the rock, by any standard we know.

What Christ therefore is saying is, that we must become children, as of a matter of our own will. Which is, as I say, impossible by any standard we know…. Which in turn leads us to the source of all things, who teaches us how, and gives us the power to do it.

You see, the externalities I mentioned, the lights, the fire, the children…and that which Dickens writes of… the giving, the being open to what joys are around us, and so on, helps toward the goal of understanding the Christmas promise, but it’s not the whole deal.

At the core of it all… (and this is a connection that, alas, many people never make…) is that the one whose birth is being celebrated every December the 25th, is the one who takes over that long list of worries. But understand, here…THAT’S WHY WE CELEBRATE!!

With those worries removed, lives get changed, hearts mended, child-like perspectives restored in a way that the lights, carols and greenery can never do on their own. And the newly remade Children find that t

he authority and responsibility and all the ponderous weight connected with them, are taken away by the one who said “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me”.

Now, I must warn you; There are those who will resist being told all of this… to the point of removing such joy as they find, wherever they may find it, often using the power of governments, and force of arms to have it removed from town squares and schools, mocking, persecuting and yes, even killing those responsible for the spreading of the news of this miracle.

It’s a sad truth, that a world used to darkness, you see, will continually fight to see the darkness continued. That warning given, however, I will say to you also, that it’s no accident, Christmas being called the season of light, and that Christ is called the light of the world.

If I have one wish for this Christmas, it is that you will be open to the light…. With the wondering eyes of a child.

Good news, we still have a President. Donny just sent a message to Nan and Mitch, take their pork laden bill macerating as a Chinese virus relief bill and shove it, from NOC Report:

President Trump took to the airwaves to describe what was pumped into the so-called “COVID-19 Relief Bill” that Congress sent him last night. In it, he detailed multiple examples of legislative pork that Congress tried to ram down everyone’s throat. He concluded by saying he will not sign the bill unless it is tremendously amended.

“The $900 billion package provides hard-working taxpayers with only $600 each in relief payments. and not enough money is given to small businesses, and in particular restaurants whose owners have suffered so grievously,” he said.

Maybe Mr. and Mrs. Biden think that spending over 2,700 dollars per American on what Speaker Shampoo would call a 600 stimulus check is good Biden math.  Personally I think that Trump Army, and sane democrats, would prefer to see American tax dollars got to Americans.

Aside, can somebody break the news to Mittens?

(Editors note…This was originally written… By myself.. in 2009.)

There is no moral imperative driving this message, tonight — no calls for a life of self sacrifice, no direct calls for intensive reflection this night, not even a real punch line of the story. I will let you decide if these thoughts call for that.

Tonight, I’m thinking back…. decades gone by, in fact.

Indeed, I’m going to relate to a tale of a Christmas Eve more years ago than I care to tell you. I could not been much more than 12 or 14 years old.

For some reason, and I don’t fully recall why, we happened to be at my maternal grandmother’s farmhouse. We weren’t there for long — perhaps 20 minutes or so. I think she must have come with us to Christmas services that night, and apparently, my father was performing transportation duty.

You see, my grandmother sometime in the late fifties had bought a farmhouse about 60 miles out of town, and perhaps five miles off the nearest paved road. She was one who loved nature in all its forms. For a lot of years, she had two houses. She had one in the city, in a neighborhood which had never been all that good, in my memory. She lived in town during the week, because she worked at a manufacturing plant just around the corner.

On the weekends, though, she jumped into that battered 1952 Chevy she had, and came down to this somewhat beat up and certainly ancient farmhouse. The place had to be over 100 years old when she got it — closer to 200 years old, now.

It was far enough off the beaten path that at the time, it was a long distance call to contact the fire department, or the police. Grandma tended to come down here on holidays too, in fact every chance she had, really. I can see her, in my mind’s eye, sitting on the porch in the summertime, bird book in one hand and a really good set of binos in the other.

Not for this night, though. Far too cold for birds, and besides, the porch swing was covered with snow.

We got to the farmhouse, and everyone but myself went inside. I knew we’d be leaving shortly, so I saw no need for going in. Anyway, the darkness and the cold night was somehow calling to me.

As I say, it was a cold clear night…. nearly zero in fact. Cold and clear. The kind of night where the stars far outshone any Christmas ornaments that might have been in someone’s outdoor display, looking like, as Charlie Daniels once said, diamonds on black velvet stretching from horizon to horizon.

Being the young boy I was at the time, I suspect that between being dressed up for Christmas services, sitting through those services, and another hour in the car getting there, I hadn’t had any chance to blow off steam in several hours. My mother expressed mild reservations about the welfare of my good clothes particularly my shoes, and then let it pass when she noted I had my boots on, and went about attending what she’d come down to do.

So, off I walked into the cold night for a brief respite from being around people all evening. I suppose there was a certain level of boyish excitement over Christmas, and the gifts that would certainly come in the morning. These quickened my steps somewhat as I plodded through the snow. The cold did too. For some reason I always find myself walking just a shade faster when it’s cold outside.

Suddenly, I found myself about a half a mile away from the farmhouse. In my speed and being centered on my own thoughts, I’d covered rather more ground than I had intended. I stopped to turn around and look at the farmhouse. I remember the sight of the house lights through the windows, and the porch light over the distance covered. It looked warm and inviting. But something wanted me to stay for a moment.

I remember that it was a moonlit night that night, and that the farmhouse, which was painted white, gave off a rather surreal blue-tinted glow as it reflected the moonlight. It was at that point that I noticed that the snow that had fallen for the last few days, which was fairly well unspoiled this far away from the city, also had the same glow. The entire valley, in fact, was bathed in moonlight and shadows. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen the place look so beautiful before, or, for that matter, since. I had always thought of farm fields in winter as being bereft of life, and for that matter, of joy. Not so, tonight. Instead, I found to my surprise that there was a beauty here. Beauty, despite the isolation, or was it because of it?

And I paused. It was hard not to.

Have you ever sat back or stood alone and simply listened to the quiet? Particularly, at night. Your senses, used to being flooded with sounds and sights, become starved for input; you start paying closer attention to what little sound and sight there is… you become more attuned, more aware. And somehow, more alive.

I listened to the little bit of wind that was coming down the valley, and chilling the tips of my ears, and of my fingers. I often did that, here… simply focused on available noise…. But not often, in winter and seldom at night. Normally, during the day in the summer months in this valley you can hear all sorts of animals and insects and birds. All that being what my grandmother to found attractive in the first place. Usually, you can also hear jet planes going overhead, back in that day, turboprops. This was, after all, the mid- sixties.

Not tonight for that, but there was a train, I recall. The Erie Railroad put up a mainline in 1852, through here and still owned it at the time a little over 100 years later…. perhaps six miles to the north of the house. It belongs to Norfolk Southern these days. On most summer nights if the crickets were quiet enough you could hear the horn. Often, you could hear the diesel engines. Tonight, it was so quiet, you could hear every wheel on that train. You could count every axle as it bounced over the switch just to the west of the little town. You could hear every knuckle’s squeak it strained against the others going over uneven spaces of track. I stood frozen still in the cold, breath rising in steam about my head, listening; amazed I could hear so much detail from such great distance, even being carried on the cold north wind that night.

Once the train passed, and faded out of hearing, I could hear voices. Now, understand… The nearest house, other than the farmhouse, was three miles or so away, and in the middle of that deep valley, the echoes were rather pronounced and confusing. I had no idea where they were coming from, or what they were saying, even, but it didn’t really matter, in truth. I could hear, though, they certainly sounded happy. And yes, you could hear, just by listening, the happiness…. no…. the JOY...in their voices. It was that quiet. Remarkable!

I don’t fully understand why I found this experience such a moving one. Maybe it was the combination of the cold and the blackness of the night sky (aside from the moon and stars of course) that made me feel particularly lonely.

Well, maybe lonely isn’t exactly the right word. Because I swear to you I almost felt that I could hear the voice of God himself speaking to me, in that place.

Just as I started entertaining that odd thought, midnight came, and with it, the sound of bells. To the south, a single joyous chime over and over and over again. To the north and a bit to the east, a Clarion that previously I didn’t even know existed, started to play “Hark, the Herald Angels Sing”. And I sang along, softly. Reverently. The situation seemed to call for some degree of reverence. There was a kind of awe in all of this, the degree of which I’ve never felt in any church I’ve ever been in, and I’ve been in many, in the years since that night.

(Winter Moon, watercolor, Chris Tessnear courtesy Blisstree.com)

After a time, the cold started to seep in, and so, I turned around and started back to the house. I observed my shadow in the snow as I walked along, placed there by the moonlight behind me, and the sound of the snow as it cracked and crunched beneath my feet. It was easy enough to imagine that if it turned around, a host of angels would be there, ready to burst into song. The moon was certainly bright enough that night, and the small miracles that I had been exposed to on a simple Christmas Eve walk, had prepared me for no less. I didn’t dare turn around, for fear of breaking the spell, somehow.

About this time I heard my mother’s voice sweeping up the valley on the wind, calling my name. My parents were ready to leave. I shook my head, smiling. My timing, apparently, was perfect. We got back in the 66 Chevy BelAir that Dad drove at the time, and drove the 60 miles to our home. I remember that I was rather subdued on the trip home. If either of my parents noticed the change, they didn’t say anything. Perhaps they thought, it being a long day that I was tired. That wasn’t it at all, however. Truth is, I was still reveling in the experience. I felt I’d been given a special gift, that night. That regardless of whatever gifts may have been waiting for me under the tree at home, I’d always have this one.

I was right, too.

That very special and irreplaceable gift is refreshed and renewed every time I hear a Christmas Clarion. Loud or soft, near or far, I’m always straining to hear it come down the valley on the clear midnight wind, with the cold nipping my ears… and the moon… or is that a band of angels… over my shoulder.

Author’s Note: I want to take a moment to gratefully acknowledge the proofreading and editing efforts of Lorie Byrd.

And yes, I will be reposting “A Bithead’s Christmas” tomorrow night. -E

Do you have a room temperature, or better, IQ and count the Delaware Dimwit, a/k/a Slow Joe, b/k/a Mr. Joe Biden(Delaware)? If so, Sloe Joe just called you a moron, from Town Hall:

Throughout the scandals of the last few years, former Vice President Joe Biden has repeatedly heaped praise on his troubled son Hunter. In several interviews, including one this week, he has referred to Hunter as the “smartest guy” he knows. To make such a statement, it is clear that Joe Biden needs a much larger circle of acquaintances.

Is Joe Biden even qualified to identify a smart person?

Slow Joe has slandered you on nation.  Call a jurist doctor.  It is all well and good for Slow Joe to love his living son, even if he can’t remember his grandchildren.  However Joe should be seeking to heal Hunter and not conflate him some kind of role model.

Here’s something I want you to think about.

About 50 hours after Georgia Governor Kemp came out for a full investigation of vote fraud, in Georgia his future son-in-law was killed in a car accident with an explosion that could be heard a mile away.

Very shortly thereafter he decided that the election was valid and that there was no need for his signature verification or a recount.

This is all verified information.

There’s an old saying… kill one, frighten ten thousand.

Practical application, within 48 hours just about everybody including the Supreme Court suddenly and as I said the other day, nonsensically, decided the election was all good, after all.

Nothing to see here, citizen. Move along.

Leaving aside the argument of the relative worth of a supposedly conservative Court, If I were the Democrats I’d be worried.

The court just ruled the other day, essentially that all the other states don’t have a vested interest in how Pennsylvania runs its elections, even if they’re doing it unconstitutionally.

Assuming that ruling holds, ( it will) the Republicans can do any damn thing they want in some states and the Democrats wouldn’t be able to say anything about it. Postulate for example a law being passed in any state in the Union at the state level saying that the only people that can be elected to public office are Republicans. Unconstitutional? You betcha… and if it ever happened the Democrats would be justifiably screaming at volume 11. But with the precedent set with this ruling, who do you suppose they’re going to make challenge to?

And by the way, there’s this question also… If there is no vested interest one state to another about the second States unconstitutional act in a national election which affects us all, who in the world does have standing?

There is an old saying that extreme cases make bad law, There goes your proof.

Obviously something other than the bare facts of the case was weighing on the minds of the judges… For example, leftists rioting again.

Did you think those riots were all about racism, or for that matter about Trump per se’? No, as I said here at the time, that was all about flexing muscles as a demonstration of destructive ability should they not get their way.

Think, nothing has changed in those cities. No laws passed, no jobs created and yet suddenly things are peaceful once again. It’s as if those riots were created for another purpose altogether.

And it worked, the Supreme Court ruled in their favor, not on the merits of the case but because of the fear of cities burning again after actually upholding the Constitution.

They were..

Jazz Shaw correctly suggests that our electoral system needs to be repaired long before 2024. The problem is the court has just swept the legs out from underneath any such effort.

Yeah, well…

Both Mrs. B.J. Clinton, a/k/a PIAPS, and Slow Joe, a/k/a Joseph Biden(Demented from Delaware) are vain, selfish and greedy. What’s the difference? Mrs. Clinton is smart. She used the Clinton Foundation to mask pay to play scheme. In contrast Slow Joe used his drug addict son Hunter as his bag man.

Some of the federal government is looking to Junior Biden’s business and tax affairs. For his part Pere Biden has denied, of the taxpayer’s dime, any knowledge or involvement with Junior’s affairs, from Red State:

According to Hunter in a statement released by the transition team and run on their website, the federal prosecutors were looking into him for his “tax affairs.” Joe Biden has denied that he was involved with his government position in any way with his son’s business. But here he was not realizing the basics conflict, that he was using tax payer dollars and transition resources to defend his son and his son was using those taxpayer dollars to not tell us the full story.

The Biden family problem is that either don’t recognize or respect legal boundaries. The Biden clan trades on Pere Biden name and position to enhance family wealth. Pere Biden uses government offices to defend both him and his son.

As for CNN they either did not care, or were not a aware they when they asked the Biden transition team to comment on Hunter Biden’s legal problems, they were asking the Biden team to violate the law, and did not seem aware of the fact the the Biden team did so. Maybe both CNN and the Biden team need some competent lawyers.

As to Pere Biden’s claim that the Biden clan was not in business together, Hunter Biden’s actions say otherwise, from NY Post:

emails showing that Hunter Biden referred to his father Joe Biden and a Chinese businessman “office mates” in a September 2017 missive.

The reference came when Hunter Biden made a request for keys to the general manager of a Washington, DC, office building.

“[P]lease have keys made available for new office mates,” Hunter Biden wrote in the email reviewed by The Caller which listed his father Joe, along with stepmother Jill Biden, uncle Jim Biden and Gongwen Dong, described as an “emissary” for the Chinese energy giant CEFC.

The Biden clan, Joe, Jim and Hunter, were in business together, and in business with the CCP.

Give the Delaware Devil his due.  While Slow Joe’s clock only runs on an intermittent basis is it not stopped, yet.  Somebody on Slow Joe’s staff must have slipped him a note, albeit a very short one.  Slow Joe gave notice the among living real persons voting, the democrats got their clocks cleaned, from Legal Insurrection:

“That’s how they beat the living hell out of us across the country, saying that we’re talking about defunding the police. We’re not. We’re talking about holding them accountable.”

The ‘rats were not just talking about defunding the police, they actually are.  I don’t recall a single peep of protest from the Biden Bunker opposing the cuts.  When a good of the party Slow Joe claims to lead, sitting in silence in your basement is not understood be support for law enforcement.  If Slow Joe is going to be the leader of the democrats, he needs to speak up and lead.  Little wonder Slow Joe got no police endorsements.

Slow Joe is smart enough to see the Defund the Police movement will be the death of the democrats to the sane side of AOC.  His problem is that he not man enough to make a stand, video:

Slow Joe’s recommendation to fix the Defund the Police problem is to simply put a lid of it and not talk about it.

Moreover, Slow Joe seem to think policing per se is somehow a federal issue.  It is not.  The Constitution grants the federal government no explicit police authority.

From the Intelligencer:

You may be surprised to learn that of the trio of long-awaited coronavirus vaccines, the most promising, Moderna’s mRNA-1273, which reported a 94.5 percent efficacy rate on November 16, had been designed by January 13. This was just two days after the genetic sequence had been made public in an act of scientific and humanitarian generosity that resulted in China’s Yong-Zhen Zhang’s being temporarily forced out of his lab. In Massachusetts, the Moderna vaccine design took all of one weekend. It was completed before China had even acknowledged that the disease could be transmitted from human to human, more than a week before the first confirmed coronavirus case in the United States. By the time the first American death was announced a month later, the vaccine had already been manufactured and shipped to the National Institutes of Health for the beginning of its Phase I clinical trial. This is — as the country and the world are rightly celebrating — the fastest timeline of development in the history of vaccines. It also means that for the entire span of the pandemic in this country, which has already killed more than 250,000 Americans, we had the tools we needed to prevent it .

Now,why would they hold up that vaccine for so long if they already had it before anybody died?

Let’s see. They announced the distribution of the vaccine when? If I recall rightly it was about a week after the election.

This isn’t rocket science, children.

I’m sure that the relatives of the people who died can take comfort in their having died to help the Democrats attain office and get rid of orange man bad. And my friends, I’m fully aware of the level of evil required for something like this but that’s precisely what we’re looking at here.