The Serial Thinker Blog

The Fifth Stanza

Dear American Leftists. 

The Fifth Stanza of the Ranger Creed:

"Energetically will I meet the enemies of my country. I shall defeat them on the field of battle for I am better trained and will fight with all my might. Surrender is NOT a Ranger word. I will never leave a fallen comrade to fall into the hands of the enemy and under no circumstances will I ever embarrass my country."

I will stand in public and recite this stanza. 

Will you?

Waltzing Matilda - The Dancing Ghost

Waltzing Matilda, a ghost so fair, Danced through the halls with ghostly air. With ethereal grace and a ghostly gleam, She twirled and whirled in a ghostly dream.

Her translucent form, a sight to behold, As she danced in the moonlight, so bold. She waltzed to the music of the night, With a rhythm that gave us such delight.

But as the clock struck twelve, she disappeared, Leaving us all with ghostly fear. For Waltzing Matilda, our ghostly friend, Was a ghost who danced until the very end.

But in our hearts, she'll forever stay, Dancing and waltzing, night and day. A ghost who brought us such joy and glee, Waltzing Matilda, we'll always see thee.

‘Science is a method of investigation, not a belief system,” John Cleese

The American Dream

The American Dream.

Not the Canadian, not the Mexican, not the French or the Swedish Dream. The American Dream. It has been the aspiration of millions of people from every corner of the world for over 200 years. The American Dream has provided the light for millions stranded in darkness to take the risk to come here and make the best of it. Through their own hard work and sacrifice, they could build a better life than the one they left. They could provide opportunities for their children and grandchildren that they would never be able to actualize in their native lands.

Arriving with nothing and sometimes less than nothing, burdened with disease and poverty and despair they landed; and made this place their own. They became Americans. Not hyphenated-Americans, not differentiated Americans, just Americans. They opened up shops and joined businesses and in my family's case began farming. They followed the rules and obeyed the laws and eventually became citizens. They endured every kind of hardship, but they stuck with it because they believed in the possibilities that America held.

They didn't come for a handout or free anything. They came for the opportunity to work and breathe free air. To raise their children and make a life for themselves. These are the people who I welcome to MY country and am proud to call my fellow citizens. These are the people I now see working in technology and whose kids I teach every day. These are the people who enrich our country by embracing it, by sharing their cultures not imposing them, by improving our home through lawful productive behavior.

In the film "Kingdom of Heaven" the character Balian of Ibelin has the following statement written on the crossbeam of his blacksmith shop, "Nemo vir est qui mundum non reddat meliorem," What man is a man who does not make the world better. To the refugees and immigrants who strengthen and make our country better, Welcome Home. I wish you prosperity, health, and happiness in your pursuit of the American Dream.

This was finals week at our high school. At my school, progress reports come out this afternoon and "grade grubbing" began in earnest this week.

Student: "Mr. Reyes, is there anything that I can do to bring up my grade; my parents are going to kill me if I'm getting a C- in your class."

Me: "You can turn your assignments in on time from this point forward. You can study for quizzes. You can write things down when I tell the class, 'You should write this down'."

It's not the desired response, but grade grubbing is a HUGE pet peeve of mine and I don't feed into it.

On a more pedagogical level, this came to mind:

When learning is transactional - done for a grade - the impact is fleeting. When learning is done for its own sake, it endures. In a modern context, the difference between learning something at school and learning something from YouTube.

For the record. I don't feel guilty. About anything that I've achieved or accomplished. That I live in a nice community or that my kids attended good schools. I don't feel guilty that I am able to read and write and communicate proficiently in the language of the majority culture. I don't feel guilty that my kids have led a comfortable life and that they have experienced things that many adults will never see or do. My kids are kind and smart and care about other people. They are ambitious yet community oriented. They have been raised with solid values by parents who care about them and provide stability and counsel. I don't feel guilty about any of this because I can trace every single bit of it back to hard work.
Whether it's lengthy discussions about how to raise kids or putting in extra hours and saving the money to take a nice vacation, our own efforts have created the great lives we have. Not some mythical White privilege, not membership into an exclusive ethnic club that rains benefits down on us and not on people who are not like us. We belong to a club that is open to anyone. The self-reliance quit sniveling and work your ass off club. Membership is free but that doesn't mean that it's without cost. It costs hours and years and sacrifices, but membership has its rewards.
So to those sanctimonious progressives who are fretfully wringing their hands about whether or not they deserve the breaks they've had in life.... If you have to wonder about it, you don't deserve it. I don't wonder about it for a second. All of my shit is earned.

How far back do reparations claims extend, how are the obligations assigned, and how are the amounts due determined? There needs to be a formula so that the distribution is equitable.

I wonder if the gondolas at the River Styx have signs on them (like buses) to carry people to different versions of the afterlife. For example, one's temperament might be more Valhalla than Nirvana and ending up in the wrong place could be terribly disruptive to the current residents. (A Viking in Nirvana, yikes!).

I imagine also that on busy weekends (like after a natural disaster) the ferry line gets backed up. Do you lose your place in line if you wander around while you're waiting your turn? Actually, that would be an interesting version of Hell, being stuck in line for your assignment to the afterlife.....

To make matters worse, the snack cart would contain only Tofu snacks - not the yummy greasy fried things that caused the heart attack that got you there. And in your section of the line you're surrounded by annoying East Coast loudmouths who are kvetching relentlessly about the wait, and the poor service, and the fact that there is no priority entrance for Gold Club Elite members.

Finally, I would envision that to be Purgatory. If you can wait patiently, eat the crappy tofu, and tolerate the loudmouths for a couple of eons then you've paid your price and get to ride the ferry of your choice. If you've griped, whined, and made a nuisance of yourself, you haven't learned your lesson and get the ticket South.

Final Farewell

The forest is my home, my heart, my all,

Where I roamed free, proud, and tall.

I've seen the seasons change, the leaves fall,

And heard the howls of my kin, one and all.

 

I am an old wolf now, my time is near,

My strength is waning, my end is here.

But I will not die in my den, in fear,

I'll go out to the forest, to make my final cheer.

 

I'll run through the woods, with my head held high,

And let the wind be my final sigh.

I'll lay down among the trees, beneath the sky,

And close my eyes, as the world goes by.

 

For I have lived a life of honor and pride,

I've been a leader, a protector, a guide.

My pack will remember me, when I have died,

And tell stories of the old wolf, who went out to die.

My spirit will join the wind and the trees,

And be part of the forest's melody.

I'll be with my kin, forever at ease,

And be remembered as a wolf of dignity.

 

So let me go now, to the forest I love,

To die in peace, beneath the stars above.

I'll be remembered, my legacy will be passed on,

As a wolf of valor, who lived and died strong.

Dear Human, We've invented lots of neat things to distract you from the void of meaning that is existence. Sincerely, Art

The generation that crushed dictatorships in World War II, and socialism during the Cold War, now watch as their children, grandchildren, and sometimes great-grandchildren march in the streets FOR socialism – communism – Marxism

it's truly heartbreaking

Is an argument between two vegans still called a 'beef'?

80 Years Ago Today....

A group of courageous people began an insurrection against a genocidal oppressor. Their revolt lasted for five months and halted, for a time, their forced deportation and execution. On January 18, 1943, the Jewish prisoners of the Warsaw Ghetto engaged the Nazis in the first rounds of direct armed conflict. With smuggled weapons and other improvised munitions they held the Germans at bay. Furious that ill equipped and seemingly untrained rebels could stall the Reich war machine, the German high command sent in reinforcements under the leadership of a new commander Jurgen Stroop. Despite depleted ranks and overwhelming opposition, the Jews did not yield. In fact, they held a strongpoint in the center of the ghetto in a place called Muranowski square and raised two flags high atop the roof, one the Polish national Flag and the other the blue and white flag of the Jewish Resistance Forces (similar in nature to the current flag of Israel). These flags flew for four days, enraging German leaders in Berlin. Finally, soldiers under Stroops command began using flamethrowers to burn buildings and bunker complexes. One of the few Jewish survivors of the rebellion, Marek Edelman, wrote, "We were beaten by the flames, not by the Germans." This heroic stand gave encouragement to others that the Germans were not invincible. It is recounted in wonderful detail in Leon Uris' classic novel, Mila 18.

A thought from 2012 (Still worth thinking): When you ask a student how good they want to be, you not only help them define their academic path, you establish expectations between them and you as their teacher. If a student wants to be the best ever, then you have implicit permission to challenge them at every turn to help them realize that goal. If they are merely curious about a subject, then throwing down the gauntlet could turn them away from it forever. We need to ask this question more often and respect the students' responses.

I have a zero cost solution to the homelessness issue that is completely in line with how bureaucracies handle many problems: Create a Euphemism. Homeless people are now "Urban Bedouins" and seeking to change their living habits is encroaching on their chosen culture and lifestyle.

Voila!! Now we have zero homeless people and can deal with the crime and mess without the social stigma of homelessness.

Termite Dreams

Deep in the dark, within a wooden hive,
A termite dreams of soaring high.
Beyond the bounds of gnawed-on boards,
There's a world of splendor he adores.

He dreams of flying like a bird,
Through clouds and skies without a word.
He longs to leave his drab existence,
And explore the vast and grand distance.

Though he's small and often overlooked,
His heart is filled with powerful hopes.
He'll break free from his wooden chains,
And live a life of endless gains.

The Girl and the Pony - A Cautionary Tale

Once upon a time, in a small village nestled in the rolling hills, there was a girl named Emily who was known for her incredible work ethic. She was always the first one to wake up in the morning, and the last one to go to bed at night. Emily was always busy, whether it was tending to the garden, helping her parents with the farm work, or doing chores around the house.

One day, Emily was walking through the village when she came across a little pony that had been abandoned by its owner. The pony was skinny and dirty, and it looked like it had been neglected for quite some time. Emily's heart went out to the pony, and she decided to take it home and care for it herself.

Over the next few weeks, Emily worked tirelessly to nurse the pony back to health. She fed it the best food she could find, and she groomed it every day until its fur was shiny and clean. The pony began to thrive under Emily's care, and it quickly became a beloved member of the family.

As word of Emily's hard work and dedication spread through the village, more and more people began to rely on her to take care of their animals. Soon, Emily had a whole stable full of horses, cows, sheep, and goats that she was responsible for.

At first, Emily was thrilled to be able to help so many people and animals, but as the weeks turned into months, she found herself working longer and longer hours. She was exhausted all the time, and she barely had any time to rest or spend with her family.

One day, Emily's parents sat her down and told her that she needed to slow down. They pointed out that while she was being incredibly efficient, she was also pushing herself too hard and running the risk of burning out.

Emily realized that they were right, and she made a conscious effort to pace herself and take breaks when she needed them. She also learned that efficiency, while important, should not come at the cost of one's own well-being.

And so, the moral of the story is that efficiency breeds exploitation, and it is important to find a balance between hard work and self-care.

Quote of the Day, “Metus ímprobos compescit, non clementia.”
Fear, not kindness, restrains the wicked.

Mayors of sanctuary cities should be required to house illegals in their own homes. And not vetted, background checked, safe people- whoever shows up that day.

I find myself becoming increasingly apathetic about politics as it devolves into narcissistic ”me-ism” over leading the country in a positive direction.

These four Republican Senators voted AGAINST reinstating military members discharged for refusal to get the jab:

Mitt Romney (UT)
Mike Rounds (SD)
Bill Cassidy (LA)
Susan Collins (ME)