The bigger they are, the harder they fall. The more powerful and successful people are, the more they suffer when they experience defeat and disaster. Just ask Jeff, Mark, and Tim, some of the world's most powerful giants. Each of these men has stumbled recently and while none of them will ever miss a meal or a mortgage payment on their mansions, they have suffered significant setbacks. The latest being Jeff Bezos.
Jeff may not see the full impact of his infidelity at the moment. He is, after all, off on a lustful tryst with his neighbor. He has no worries, with thousands of qualified employees to run his trillion dollar company. His 'newspaper,' and I use the term loosely, 'The Washington Post,' has obviously lacked any leadership for some time and likely won't miss a beat nor an opportunity to opinionize politics as they see fit while their owner is off co-piloting around the world with the new love of his life. Even when the divorce is finalized, Jeff will still have a paltry seventy billion bucks to woo his new girlfriend with. But when the dust settles, Bezos will have to forfeit his title of 'Richest Man in the World.' The wife he leaves behind will take her rightful spot as the fourth wealthiest person in the world and according to sources, will capture the top spot as the wealthiest woman in the world. While the private affairs of Amazon's founder are certainly none of my business, two thoughts flitter through my mind; If Jeff Bezos were nothing more than a door-to-door vacuum cleaner salesman, would his bombshell of a neighbor ever given him a second glance? And secondly, I ponder what would be the proper waiting period before I make my move on MacKenzie Bezos once her divorce is finalized? And I wonder how long the line to her door will be?
Mark Zuckerberg saw the value of Facebook, the company he gave birth to, fall by 120 billion dollars in 2018. Had he been able to thwart off the multitudes of lawsuits the company has encountered since its conception, he'd probably reign as supreme leader of the world's wealth. Faced with three dozen class action lawsuits in 2018, plus numerous others, Facebook saw its stock values plummet last year. Just last month Attorney General Karl Racine was suing Facebook, accusing the social media giant of wide-ranging privacy violations. But Mark is determined...and extremely greedy. And he just doesn't get it, even as his shares lost as much as forty percent of their value over the course of last year. He was summoned to Washington DC to explain why he put the lives of 2.27 billion daily users up on the auction block, for sale to the highest bidder. He faced a mass exodus of key leaders within his organization, including the original founders of WhatsApp and Instagram. The list of setbacks is too lengthy to bore you with but you can read more here (https://goo.gl/jD3cn6) In a nutshell Facebook the Giant has stumbled. I would bet the farm that in spite of a flawed business model, Mark Zuckerberg will never cease to follow the same path his company is on, not until Facebook draws its final breath.
Tim Cook, Mr. Apple himself, also stood by and watched his trillion dollar company begin to crumble as Apple's shares took a nosedive after the release of a series of iPhones retailing for more than what I bought my first car for. Fueled by the belief that folks all over the world would willingly trade in their perfectly good phones every year to keep pace with their BFF's, Apple continuously raised the retail price on their phones, which probably cost around a hundred bucks to produce, until finally, we got smarter than their smartphones. While Apple's year wasn't as dramatic a that of Facebook, the company received a wakeup call when its stock plunged to a four year low after lackluster results of their newly released line of phones. Still, the company we all love is worth a trillion dollars and Tim Cook is still king as long as his husband doesn't follow MacKenzie Bezos lead.
Nothing on this earth is forever, just ask Sears, which after 126 years is facing liquidation. Its a sad event for had Sears played their cards right there never would have been an Amazon. The top brass at Sears fell asleep at the wheel and rather than steering a company that pioneered the concept of shopping at home as far back as the late 1800s, they banked on forcing everyone in America to carry that dreaded Sears Card in their wallets, a credit line with interest rates so exorbitant that literally drove households to the brink of destitution. I notice of late that Amazon has followed the ill ways of Sears, touting their own Amazon charge card. It will be interesting to see if Jeff Bezos can recoup some of that fortune his wife is destined to pack into a moving van. Ah, but I stray.
There are those in these times who have claimed the title of gods, little g. With their fortunes came fame and as humans, flawed as we all are, they confused fortune and fame with power. Bezos with his Washington Post feels he has the power to change the world...and the way we should think. His mighty Amazon.com threatens to destroy the retail world as we know it, driving countless brick-and-mortar retail companies to extinction. Zuckerberg sees the world as few others do and has taken on the challenge to sway our thoughts and beliefs, censoring anything that goes against what he wants us to become. His social platform reeks of liberalism and to the most naive of us, paints a fictional picture of what our world is. And Tim Cook, who proudly boasts of his homosexuality, defends the banning of certain speech and news media on Apple platforms when they violate the "values" of their company. 'Not banning those who violate Apple's values is a sin.' We must all be, in his tainted and twisted opinion, what he wants us to be.
Is it a coincidence that these giants who rumble throughout our land spewing their foul ideologies upon us have stumbled? I think not. And when they fall, they will fall hard.
Are you ready to rumble? No, this story is not about billionaire owner of the NFL Jaguars, who just days ago announced the creation of a new professional wrestling company called All Elite Wrestling. I am sort of excited about that even though this new wrestling venture has some pretty stiff competition. Yes, I'm talking about the United States Congress.
At almost the exact moment Jaguars owner Tony Khan announced his desire to turn his attention to pro wrestling, Democrats were bringing in their own heavyweights. Representative Jennifer Wexton hung an LBGT flag outside her office door. Congress, Kyrsten Sinema, the Democrat from Arizona, made the unusual choice to take her oath of office using a book containing the texts of the U.S. and Arizona constitutions rather than the Bible. She is the first openly bisexual person in the Senate. Rep. Rashida Tlaib, (D-Mich.) the first-ever Palestinian-American woman in Congress, called President Donald Trump a 'mother-you-know-what' and promptly hung a Palestinian flag outside her office door. And then there's the rising star of the All-New Liberal Democratic Party... Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez. Yes, Mother Pelosi has assembled quite a team.
We can readily see where these women's' priorities lay by the flags they've chosen to fly and the books they chose to swear a solemn oath on. The status quo of America is likely at risk as these women take their seats vacated by, what the press reminds us of constantly, 'old white men.' But none have been so verbally outspoken of their agenda as Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez or AOC, a label applied to her by a media too lazy to continually type out her lengthy name. But isn't she just a doll? She reminds me of everyone's favorite drunk girl at the party, always good for a laugh. She can dance, too, a quality that caught my eye. I don't know if she can Texas Two-step, my personal favorite dance step, but I bet she could pick it up in a jiffy. She does have a few flaws, like my ex-wife, who's brain ran like a four-cylinder engine with a fouled spark plug. My ex wasn't a dumb person, she just misfired occasionally. And so does Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, who like any socialist worth her salt, wants to give us all free stuff. Except for very wealthy people. She wants to take 70 percent of their wealth.
I don't think for a moment that Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez is dumb. I think she is highly intelligent...and extremely dangerous. I read numerous news articles covering her adventures and scrolling down to the readers' comments, I am somewhat amazed at the loyal following she is garnering. Folks like free stuff and she is promising the moon. She is also promising something she cannot deliver.
She is the Democratic Party's worst nightmare, a party struggling to regain a foothold after many missteps. The party needs credibility and stability...and more voters. A self-proclaimed radical who is too radical for even the far-left? It's likely they never saw this coming. From Vox (https://goo.gl/zY2QDs) - 'Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (D-NY) is fine with being called a “radical,” believes President Donald Trump is racist, and is okay with sometimes fudging facts as long as she is “morally right.” And no, she has no idea how America would pay for everything she wants to give away 'for free.' Her words..."why should she be forced to do the math on every single thing she puts forward?"
Well, she's a Millenial, what do you expect. My daughter has wagged her finger at me numerous times for stereotyping, but I repeat, she's a Millenial. Just weeks ago I wrote an article warning that Millenials are beginning to make their way into positions of leadership and here she is. With absolutely no clue how to pay for all the changes they want to put in place, they are adamant and, regardless of the fact, will stomp their feet and demand results. How did we get here?
Those misfits of our generations, the fouled spark plugs we tossed aside, made their way into our universities and spewed their misguided ideas onto our children. They drilled their twisted philosophies into the minds of these naive young men and women. They cursed the very foundation on which America was built on and vowed there was a better way. Socialism, a failed system in every instance of history, was planted as a seed in the brains of these who now line up to oust those who stand in their way.
The media, not always shining a positive light on Ms. Ocasio-Cortez, nonetheless fuels her fame. It is perhaps the very worst move we as a society can make...to give a voice to one who perhaps unwittingly will destroy the very fabric of our great nation if she is allowed to succeed. Any idiot can stand on a street corner and babble. It doesn't mean we need to give them a microphone.
Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez is just a sign of what is to come. Bernie Sanders patiently waits for 2020. But just as Republicans spar with one another for their place on the ballot, and main-stream 'conservative' Democrats battle one another as their parties choice for presidential candidate, so shall, I believe, the Socialists.
Thankfully, Ms. Ocasio-Codrtez will not meet the age qualifications to run for president in 2020, but I predict another whose beliefs parallel hers will rise like a phoenix...or like Barack Obama did in 2009. His name?
“There is a fundamental choice in this election. It’s a choice between - we’re seeing nationally, socialists - like Bernie Sanders, like Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, and indeed, Congressman Beto O’Rourke..." Senator Ted Cruz (https://goo.gl/FtV6bp)
I have all these streaming channels and can't find wrestling on any of them. Oh, here's CSPAN. That'll do.
With the aroma of blackeyed peas and cabbage wafting throughout the house on this New Year's Day, I sit beside the artificial fireplace gazing at an artificial fire, wondering among other things...so why are my feet still cold? Just a fleeting thought that interrupts my reflection of a year that is now nothing more than history. It was a year of change and accomplishment, and a year of newfound freedom. Exactly one year ago on this New Years Day was my first day of official retirement. Elated, excited, and hopeful, I set out on a new adventure as 2018 made its appearance. And yes, it was indeed, a year of adventure. As a storyteller, I yearn to share so many stories with you, but alas, there are stories I cannot tell.
This day one year ago was much like today, with just myself and Stinky the Boston Terrier, my loyal companion, celebrating a holiday of no substance. I suppose mankind in his feeblest of reasoning, deems the mere survival of 365 days a major accomplishment worthy of celebration. Or perhaps the creation of such holiday was simply to nurse a massive nationwide hangover. And while I personally think New Years Day is a foolish holiday, I will not allow the day to end without consuming black-eyed peas and cabbage. Call me foolish, but I simply cannot take a chance of screwing up an entire year by not partaking in this necessary tradition. Ah, but I stray from the topic.
The highlights of this past year that I can tell you about...well, let's see. I have to be cautious, there are stories I cannot tell. As the new began to wear off of the new year and my retirement plaque hung prominently on the wall of my man cave, I and my faithful, flatulent companion began settling into a comfortable routine, weathering the winter months with me writing frivolous nonsense and Stinky hibernating, both dreaming of spring and warmer weather. When spring finally came, my daughter came with it, home from college. Stinky and I welcomed the refreshing change and happily realigned our mundane existence to accommodate her return to the nest. And with the three of us dreaming of a summer filled with all things that make summer great, came a very unexpected surprise that would send our beautiful world spinning out of control. I believe it was on my birthday...
She appeared at my door...with a large suitcase. She had left back in 2001 in search of bigger and better things and now here she was, seventeen years later, on my doorstep, the mother of my child. Imagine that. You'll have to because most of it is a story I cannot tell.
It was just temporary, she said. She just needed a place to stay for a while, she promised, as she staked her claim within my man cave, tossing everything dear to me into the hallway. "Just a mattress on the floor would be fine," she said, and "Is this all the closet space you have? I have lots more stuff I need to bring over."
Here I sit writing stories I cannot tell and almost scorched the blackeyed peas. I think they'll be okay. I have to eat them anyway. I need some good luck this year. A man from church just left. He stopped by to see why I hadn't been coming to church lately.
"Well," I paused, debating whether I could tell him the story before continuing, "I was involved in a horrible explosion back on July 4th. My ex, the mother of my child, blew me up. In fact, she blew us both up with a really huge firework mishap. I haven't been able to hear since, so really didn't see a reason to go."
Yes, it's true and just an example of stories that I cannot tell. But I hear better now. The doctor said my ears would likely heal over time as he scribbled a prescription for nasal spray. I've been squirting it in my ears for six months and finally, last week thought I'd try squirting it up my nose, and believe it or not, it's working.
As an author, I constantly search for something entertaining or meaningful to write about. In the past, perhaps I've not scrutinized my subject matter as thoroughly as I should have. The eight months that I shared with a woman who I loved deeply at one time and who I still value her friendship tremendously, did indeed offer some fabulous fodder for a storyteller like myself. There were adventures I never dreamed I'd ever experienced, some were good...some not even close. But I'll not jeopardize a valued friendship to give you and those other 160,000 people who stopped by to read my stories in 2018 a chuckle. For I have learned the hard way that words hurt. Sometimes very deeply.
So, the story I tell today is not the story that weighs heavily on my mind, but I cannot tell that story. I told a story once that perhaps shouldn't have been told and well, stories sometimes come back to haunt you. It was a reminder of something that as an author I already knew...there are stories I cannot tell.
Ah, but there are still plenty of stories for me to share with you in 2019. So, cinch that saddle up tight and hang on!
"So, let me get this straight," raising her voice above the country music booming over a speaker, the attractive brunette pointed at the dance floor. "The woman dancing with that fine looking cowboy is your ex?"
"...and she lives with you?"
"Yep," I replied.
"And you're over here putting the moves on me?"
I filled a void in my life a couple of weeks ago. Yes, I can now move on. I don't partake in too many big screen films, having forked out my hard earned money on three movies over the course of as many years. I have had an insatiable desire to see 'Wonder Woman' ever since it came out earlier this year, but frugal as I am had patiently waited for the movie to appear on Netflix, Hulu, or TubiTV. As the end of the year loomed before me, just days away, I found myself distraught that I'd not fulfilled the one item left on my 2018 bucket list. And then a miracle happened, small, perhaps too small to be classified as a miracle, but nonetheless, the DVD magically appeared on my kitchen table.
I inserted the DVD into the play station hooked up to my tv that evening and after an hour of trying to figure out how to work a PlayStation, settled into my easy chair. For the next two hours, I blinked not one time, my mind transported to the midst of World War II. The plot was of sufficient substance, the characters were solid as Lego blocks, and yes, Wonder Woman found her way to my heart. And then the last few moments of the film flickered before my eyes and the credits rolled.
"What kind of an ending was that?" I wrinkled my nose. "That's not how I would have ended the movie!"
But it wasn't my story to end, and that's the end of that.
I am a writer. I've written a few books and believe it or not, I've yet to end one. Perhaps it's the old saying, 'Never burn a bridge.' Can I one day put my star character out to pasture? Well, of course, I will have to. I know how the story will end...and that's two books away. Will every reader be satisfied with the ending I, the author, choose? Probably not, but it's my story and I get to pick. I get to play the god of my imaginary world and like chess pieces, I get to manipulate my characters any way I want. It is an awesome feeling!
I was surprised to find myself in a quandary after viewing the movie. I realized the immense responsibility an author has to his/her readers or viewers. But the thoughts rambling around in my head as I spent the next hour trying to get the disk out of the PlayStation were not all about the movie. I found myself pondering how I want my story to end...no, not a book. My life story...how will it end? Do I get to choose my own ending? Will I ride off into the sunset in my never-ending quest of a perfect woman? See, that's not a good ending. I would want the story to end after I found the woman of my dreams...well, not right after I find her. Maybe a hundred years later. Will the movie of my life draw to a close as I stand on the porch of my vast ranch house with the love of my life by my side as I gaze across an endless landscape of ranch land? At the last few seconds of the story, I gaze into my woman's eyes and exclaim,
"It was a good life, wasn't it Bessie?"
To which she would respond, "Bessie? Who the hell is Bessie?"
Well, I don't know about that one either. I guess we don't get to pick our final chapter. I suppose most of our endings come with us laying in a coffin with, as my daddy used to say, people you never knew gawking at you. Maybe I shouldn't worry much about the final chapter. Perhaps I should concentrate on all the chapters between now and then. I do have a choice on how my story plays out, however many chapters I happen to have left. We, being the feeble minded humans we are, tend to think a new chapter begins with each new year. Maybe I need to work on making my next chapter eventful and exciting. Maybe that needs to be my New Year's resolution! So when that clock strikes midnight on December 31st...I'll be ready. A blank page just waiting for me to write something down on!
As I sit here pondering my obligatory Christmas blog post, I rack my brain in search of magical words and thought-provoking philosophies that might propel me to the heights of world recognition. Ah, to pen a piece of literature destined to be reflected upon for generations to come, isn't that the dream of all writers? But alas, I am a mere storyteller and not of the caliber of Dickens or Hans Christian Anderson...not even worthy to stand in the shadows of Mark Twain. And so, defeated before I even start, I shall put aside those great expectations...and simply reflect upon Christmas's past.
Christmas's, I've seen more than most of you, more than fifty. Surely I have a memory or three that might bring a chuckle or at least a nod of agreement. Throughout the course of life I've been blessed with a wife or two, and even more children beneath my feet, or hovering above my face hours before dawn on Christmas morn, waiting for me to awake with a start as their piercing eyes stirred me to consciousness. More often than not, it was not the stare that startled me, but what seemed to be multitudes of children pouncing on my bed, cheerfully announcing that Santa had not disappointed during the night. As I trudged past the tree each year in search of a coffee pot, the patter of tiny feet following behind would reach my ear. I would shrug off the fleeting notion of glancing toward the tree. The addiction of caffeine beckoned me to postpone Christmas for just a few more minutes. Just as I would sit in my easy chair across from the magical tree with coffee in hand, the wife, whichever one she happened to be that year, would dutifully trudge past the children now gathered close to the tree. We all grew quiet, for we knew not to spoil Christmas by rushing Mom before her first sip of coffee. As she reappeared from the kitchen, the children wiggled and squirmed in anticipation. I fumbled with a camera in preparation for the event about to take place. With a firm warning that no pictures were to be taken of Mom at that time of day, I then directed the lens toward the tree, and with a nod of my head, gave the order to let Christmas begin. Just minutes later, the hustle and bustle of Christmas came to an end, laying beneath shredded wrapping paper and discarded boxes.
For years I lied to my children...lied about Santa. When the truth eventually came at some point in time, I always felt a twinge of guilt for misleading those naive and vulnerable youngsters. But still more children were to come and again I would lie. I went to great lengths to cover up the truth, stealthily creeping through a dark house at midnight on Christmas Eve, my arms laden with presents. I ate cookies and drank milk left for someone other than myself. As children grew older, I trekked through mounds of snow beneath a Christmas moon, struggling to carry a basketball goal or a bicycle, hoping not to injure myself in the process. How would I explain a broken leg the next morning as my child questioned why Santa left their present at the end of the drive?
I recall the Christmas that my youngest knew the truth. We said our 'good nights' late that Christmas Eve and she disappeared into her bedroom. Moments later she reappeared, making her way into the kitchen. I followed her and watched as she poured a glass of milk, then arranged chocolate chip cookies on a plate. Our eyes met as she laid them on the table...and I spoke only one word,
"Baby..." and I shook my head as I felt my heart break.
"I know, Daddy."
I remember how sad I felt as she returned to her room, thinking how sad she must feel...knowing the man who never was would never come again on Christmas Eve.
It was the next Christmas that I would find myself alone. There were no children underfoot, nor a wife to worry about buying a gift for. Perhaps it was desperation, or maybe an attempt to hide from memories of Christmas's past, that I took a different look at Christmas. On a cold Christmas Eve, I pulled into a parking lot, and staring at the building before me through a frosted windshield, decided there was surely more to Christmas. I stepped into an overflowing auditorium and searched for a seat where hundreds had gathered to celebrate. Settling at the back of the room, I gazed around in amazement. Had I been missing this all these years? Moments later I stood with the masses and lifted up my voice and sang,
'Joy to the world, the Lord has come!"
And for an hour I worshipped and praised the birth of Jesus Christ, my heart light and my mind marveling. I cried, near sobbing as the room grew dark then became light again as hundreds of candles illuminated the faces of those around me. And we sang 'Silent Night'...as tears of joy streamed down my face.
No longer would I lie about a man who never was who would never come again. This Christmas and for every Christmas to come, I shall celebrate a Man who always was and who will always be...and who will certainly come again! Politically incorrect? I could care less! Happy Birthday, Jesus! Merry Christmas and may God bless each and every one of you!
I slept through the revolution. Last time I was paying attention, Hollywood was churning out movies brimming with an overabundance of nudity, murder, and profanity. Rap artists were promoting hate, rape, cop killings, and the degradation of all women and anyone not of their race, yes, racial prejudice. What's that? All that is still happening? So, what's the deal with our Christmas songs?
Suddenly, the popular Christmas tune 'Baby It's Cold Outside,' written in 1944, has been labeled a song about perverted pedophilia. 'Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer' promotes bullying. And right out of the blue comes the revelation that Santa should be recognized as a genderless being, like the angels in heaven. I saw the movie, 'Bad Santa' and I'd venture to say Santa is no angel.
It appears to me that those folks who will never accept the status quo have decided to regroup. Their 'Right to Choose' movement is on shaky ground. Abortion clinics have been shuttered throughout the country. State legislatures have passed laws not favorable to their agenda. Ohio is even considering making abortion a crime punishable by death to both the mother and any doctor who performs abortions. Public opinion is shifting as multitudes around the nation begin realizing we've been murdering unborn babies by the millions.
Transexuals are losing their foothold and gays and lesbians are trembling that they may be next as the radical leftwingers leave them behind in the dust in their pursuit of another cage to rattle. After all, the Confederate statues are nothing more than chunks of concrete in some landfill. Luckily the NRA is still standing though and we still have our guns. The restless ones have grown bored of the same old battles and now seek new challenges.
So, while you and I were sleeping, they have decided to take on morality, in fact, redefine it to suit their agendas. Some Millennials are now approaching their forties and woe to the rest of us, are beginning to take their 'rightful' place as those who will lead America to greatness, not Donald Trump's vision of a great America, but theirs. What has been accepted as acceptable for generations is now subject to intense scrutiny. American patriotism is now viewed by those on the other side of the fence as something of an evil force to be quelled. Democracy belongs in a museum, nothing more than an antiquity as the voices of the misinformed preach the concept of socialism. Free Enterprise is the work of the devil if there is such a person in the minds of the secular morality definers. And the Constitution is just an outdated idea on faded parchment.
Yes, secular morality. Not the morality spoken of in sixty-six chapters of the Bible, but a morality being carved out by the 'game changers.' Their intentions may be good, indeed by their own definition, they view themselves as 'do-gooders' determined to change all that is 'not good' in their eyes. Intent on changing the world to suit themselves, a vast number of these people have no interest in serious romantic relationships, in fact, little interest in sex, refusing to put their smartphones down long enough to accomplish the act. In a recent poll, this segment of society said they'd rather give up sex for a year than forego their Amazon account. As a result, pornography finds itself on wobbly knees. Playboy put clothes on its Playmates and Tendr has abolished nudity on its site. More will follow. I don't oppose the change but would have scoffed five years ago had anyone told me this day would come.
The #MeToo movement has been a success, destroying many deserving individuals and some not so deserving. This new view of morality is merciless to those who refuse to conform. There will be more who fall. Guided by misguided encouragers like Mark Zuckerberg, Jeff Bezos, Mr. Amazon himself and owner of the biased Washington Post, and Tim Cook, CEO of Apple, the new morality crusaders will have the rest of us cowering in fear. When we allow a select few to set the norms, our very freedom is at stake. Recently Tim Cook, who proudly boasts of his homosexuality, defended the banning of certain speech and news media on Apple platforms when they violate the "values" of their company. 'Not banning those who violate Apple's values is a sin.' That should concern all of us.
He continued, " I believe the most sacred thing that each of us is given is our judgment, our morality, our own innate desire to separate right from wrong."
Yes, but not define what is right and what is wrong. Not to impose your definition of moral upon our society. And not to persecute those who don't see your morality as their morality.
As human beings, we don't get to define morality and sin to suit our own desires, preferences, and agendas. What will we become if we are censored according to someone else's definition of right and wrong?
A psychology professor and sex therapist at Minnesota State University and apparently a satanist, has even pointed his finger at God Himself concerning the Virgin Mary. I'll not be a party to blasphemy, but you can read the article here. It is deviant individuals such as this who are leading the misguided morality crusaders into battle. As the Bible states, mankind is like the sheep, easily led by whoever chooses to lead. My daddy used to tell the story about a slaughterhouse that kept a got in the holding pen with sheep that were to be slaughtered. When to door to the slaughterhouse was opened, the goat would walk into the slaughterhouse. The sheep would follow him inside, where two men waited with sledgehammers. We cannot follow the goats to our doom.
On this subject, Franklin Graham said, "Sin and morality have been defined by the God of the universe. God and God alone. God’s Word, the Bible, is the standard by which questions of good and evil, and right and wrong, are determined."
Hey, Frosty the Snowman is on TV. Oh, he's not wearing any pants...and he is smoking a pipe! The 'Secular Morality Sin-Busters' are gonna ice that guy!