Category: Uncategorized

I have been away from my site only to return and find a glaring error in the title of my last post, it reading B9oats instead of Boats.

I correct it now and will have my WebHost correct what still stands.

Sincerely, Islander.

The boats being sunk off of South America are not bound for our shores; but are a vital link in a continent to continent movement of cocaine. Devised by the drug lords of the time[circa 1980;s], and widely known                                   Now comes “Wounded Ear” and dips his finger into the pie. Ha, ha, ha!          Latter day drug lords must come up with a new plan; and they will.                   Fot the Earth is still round , and all roads lead to Rome                                           Islander.

 

I’m sitting poo;side up here in Northern Florida at the moment. Potted plants line two sides of the pool, most in bloom.                                                                        One seemed to stand out. Turns out it’s a Crown of Thorns. They grow down my way too, but I’ve never paid attention to them.                                                       Blood red flowers and thorns to die from; got me to thinking.                           They grew in Palestine too, in AD33, and became imortalised in time because of their use at Golgotha.                                                                                                           You might call it pain on pain, you might call it a great symbol of man’s inhumanity to man, you might call it the ultimate agony.                                        Now we have our latter day Tiberius scattering Crown of Thorns among us as if he were in Puerto Rico tossing paper towels.                                                              “Yes Virginia” evil people exist; you betcha!

Islander..

Oy Veh, I.m back.  Islander

I shan’t say Merry Christmas, for indeed it is not. Rather, I would say It’s a Merciless Christmas. Christ roamed Palestine until a few Romans, with a wooden cross and some spikes, sent him to Kingdom Come. If he were to return, he would not last a New York minute before he would be blown up to Kingdom Come again by the Romans of our time; and he  would rise with the black smoke of mans inhumanity to man  Islander..

I was listening to the last movement of the Sixth Brandenburg Concerto, aah Bach, when thoughts came to mind. The beat for instance, one, two, three, four; something about it, don’t you think?                                                     Eighteenth Century  then, current to this day. Bach is timeless of course, people will be, [I was going to say listening, but you know how you search for a better word], mesmerized as long as there are people.

Islander.

If you follow me you may remember my post on “Herbie” a few years ago, if not you can type Herbie in the search box and click the search icon.                 Herbie and I worked in an establishment that catered primarily to Jewish men. Herbie was a partner with another fellow, a Jew, in the enterprise. Herbie was not Jewish. He had suffered from polio as a child, which had shrivelled his right leg from the knee down and left him with a pronounced limp.                                                                                                                                                In college he compensated by taking up weight-lifting and wrestling. He was a big guy.When he walked he had to throw his right leg forward, which for all the world looked like the goose-step adopted by the German Army during Hitler’s time.                                                                                                                So, one day Sol, his partner, and I were in this room  with clientele who were regulars and knew Herbie and his ways, but there were a few newcomers also. Into the room stomps Herbie who, upon recognizing newbies, comes to a commanding halt, throws his right hand into the air and shouts “Heil Hitler”. All eyes were on the newcomers, who did not know whether to shit or go blind, ha ha ha!                                                                                                              Quite the guy, Herbie, yeah, quite the guy.

Islander.

“The Knights of the pen and the literary snobs of today should be made to realize that the great transformations which have taken place in this world were never conducted  by a goosequill. No. The task of the pen must always be that of presenting the theoretical concepts which motivate such changes. The force which has ever and always set in motion great historical avalanches of religious and political movements is the magic power of the spoken word.                                                                                                                                The broad masses of a population are more amenable to the appeal of rhetoric than to any other force. All great movements are popular movements. They are the volcanic eruptions of human passions and emotions, stirred into activity by the ruthless Goddess of Distress or by the torch of the spoken word cast into the midst of the people. In no case have great movements been set afoot by the syrupy effusions of aesthetic litterateurs and drawing room heroes.                                                                         The doom of a nation can be averted only by a storm of glowing passion; but only those who are passionate themselves can arouse passion in others. It is only through the capacity for passionate feeling that chosen leaders can wield the power of the word which, like hammer blows, will open the door to the hearts of the people.                                                                                                      He who is not capable of passionate feeling and speech was never chosen by Providence to be the herald of its will. Therefore a writer should stick to his ink-bottle and busy himself with theoretical questions if he has the requisite ability and knowledge. He has not been born or chosen to be a leader.                                                                                                                                              A movement which has great ends to achieve must carefully guard against the danger of losing contact with the masses of the people. Every problem encountered must be examined from this viewpoint first of all and the decision to be made must always be in harmony with this principle.”          Adolph Hitler.

Excerpted from “Mein Kampf”

With the rampant Nazi-ism being espoused by politicians and others in this country I think Hitler’s views offer us a useful perspective on the subject.

Islander.

In 1967 President Johnson, a Democrat, nominated Thurgood Marshall for the Supreme Court. He was the first black man to be so honored and a giant in the civil rights battles of his day.                                                                                  In 1991, upon Marshall’s retirement, President George H.W. Bush, a Republican, nominated an absolute Uncle Tom to take his place, ——–and thereby hangs a tale.

Islander.

 

 

 

 

Synopsis: Two flights of the torpedo squadron flew to attack the approaching Japanese fleet. One from land and one from sea. We have seen the Avengers from Midway meet their fate; now the Devastators from the Hornet would meet theirs.

“JAPANESE STRIKING FORCE                                                                                                    TORPEDO SQUADRON EIGHT                                                                                               0917

Staring into the distance, Waldron suddenly saw the wispy smoke columns dead ahead of them. The enemy ships began to take shape as dark silhouettes on the cryslalline sea.                                                                                            To Tex Gay, it looked like they almost covered the ocean. As the squadron closed in on the enemy task force, he could see three carriers in the first group, and a fourth following behind.There were battleships and cruisers and destroyers all over the place. Maybe all that guff about the skipper’s Sioux intuition had been right after all. He had gone straight to the enemy fleet like they had been on the end of a plumb line.                                                    Waldron was on the radio again. He was attempting to contact Commander Stanhope Ring to let him know that they had located the Japanese carriers. “Stanhope from Johnny One,” Gay heard him say. “Enemy sighted.”              There was no response. “Stanhope from Johnny One…answer,” he called again. “Enemy sighed.”                                                                                                          Flying behind Commander Ring in the Hornet air group, Leroy Quillen, the radioman-gunner in the dive bomber piloted by Ensign K. B. White, heard Waldron loud and clear.                                                                                                         “Stanhope from Johnny One,” he repeated once more.                                           As Waldron continued leading Torpedo Eight toward the vanguard of the enemy striking force, Tex Gay observed that one of the four Japanese carriers was in the process of landing a plane. Remembering that the original attack plan called for hitting the carriers  while their aircraft were off bombing Midway, his first reaction was, “Oh Christ, were late.”               Waldron was back again on the radio, this time talking to his men. “We will go in,” he said, sounding very calm. “We won’t turn back, we will attack. Good luck.”                                                                                                                                    The skipper put his nose down before leveling off at about five hundred feet as he headed in. The rest of the squadron followed him in perfect precision, almost like synchronized swimmers. He had told them that they might have to go in alone, and now the worst had come.                                                                  His words gave Tex confidence that they had a fighting chance to get in and drop their torpedoes, then light out for home. A moment later, the sky around them was filled with Zeroes. The enemy fighters swung around in half loops and wingovers to gain better firing positions.                                                               “Johnny One under attack,” Waldron radioed.                                                              From the bridge of the carrier Akagi, Commander Minoru Genda, Admiral Nagumo’s operations officer, watched with almost detached fascination as the fifteen torpedo planes came on. The slow-moving Devastators reminded him of a flock of waterfowl crossing a lake. To Genda, it was sheer idiocy for them to attack without fighter protection, and a total violation of the first rule of war, which was to concentrate one’s forces.                                  At last they have come, Genda thought to himself, having wondered when they would arrive ever since the American carrier force had been sighted. It puzzled him that they were coming in so low.”

Excerpted from “A DAWN LIKE THUNDER”, author, Robert J. Mrazek.           Publisher: Little, Brown and Company, Hachette Book Group.                             237 Park Avenue, New York, NY 10012.

To be continued:    Islander