“O Duck Luck, ” says Hen Pen, “the sky is falling!”
“Why, how do you know it?” says Duck Luck.
“Obama Chicken Little told me.”

And so goes the story of another famous alarmist, Chicken Little. President Obama has attempted for the past few weeks to raise alarm about the awful “cuts” that would affect everything. The economy will be hurt and crippled for years, other results include millions of furloughed federal employees, and a non-functioning military. All because those darned Republicans would not agree with him to further increase spending.

Stoking more fear and animus, the president now seeks to paint the entire fallout from the ever-so-slightly decreased future spending on Republicans. The president specifically named John Boehner and Mitch McConnell as the responsible parties. And although Obama has to yet figure out how to paint the reluctance to support spending as either racist, or to invoke class warfare narratives, we need only to give it time, and his friends will spin furiously until a good excuse develops. It is their nature.

The president, when asked by the adoring press, what more he could have done to ensure sequestration did not take effect, blurted out, “I am not a dictator…”, and says he could not send the Secret Service after Republicans to prevent their planes from taking off. From your mouth to Uncle Joe’s ears, eh Mr. President? If only leadership were that easy – but, then again no one has ever made a good case for your leadership abilities.

In blurting out his most recent excuse for his failure (or was sequestration itself the failure? Obama previously supported it), the president again reveals his juvenile mindset when it comes to politics. It is frequently his way or else. If things do not go his way, then the most dire circumstances will occur. How can you nudge people into thinking or behaving the “right way”? Send your sycophants out to do the dirty work for you. Bob Woodward’s being threatened by a White House insider is the most recent example.  Have your supporters engage in some name-calling and belittle your opponent. It is all in a day’s work for any grade-school bully.

For a president who has also: bemoaned the fact he has to work with Congress and wished he could work around them, threatened to use executive orders to accomplish things that Congress balks at doing, and who actually has a “kill-list” that gives him the final ability to determine who has the ultimate right, that is, to exist – when he claims, “I am not a dictator…”, if he is not, he is the closest thing the country has ever had to one. The rights so valued and inherent in each of us have slowly continued to erode away, and with a president such as Obama, this will be a long four years.

Major Daniels honored that soldier’s last request. He and a sergeant removed the uniform in silence. They set the pants and top across chair backs to let the blood dry out. It would take some time to let that much of a soak be ready for sending to the soldier’s mother.

No one wanted to believe in war. So untouched as the country was by it for so long. Sure, soldiers came home from war all the time. Plenty of conflicts and fighting, over there. But in the streets and towns of America, no, who would have thought so?

But it happened anyway. While plucking at the rose petals of freedom, the Federals had finally grasped a thorn. Once orders were given to use armed drones on citizens within the States all hell broke loose.

There were minor militias in the field across the country for both sides. Federal forces were of course the better armed and trained, in the beginning anyway. Militia backup for the federals were nothing but untrained, undisciplined thugs from the streets, looking to set their wrath upon anyone who got in the way. More in it for the pillaging ‘pay-back’ as they had been told all their lives they were due than any sense of preserving the union or patriotism. Blood was the currency.

In the Rebel ranks, all walks of life were there. Young, old. Rich, poor. Men and women. Everyone who knew what was at stake turned out in some way or another. Still, they were outnumbered. A war against them, generations in the planning had been let loose. From private to general though among the Rebel ranks, all knew it was a fight of winner-takes-all. Knowing what was at stake steeled spines as well as heated blood with courage enough to stand against those lopsided odds.

Her son’s funeral was a quiet affair. So many of her family were supports of the Federals, sending hateful letters to the mourning mother of how glad they were that her boy was dead: He was so stupid for fighting. Another brainwashed extremist as far as they were concerned, good riddance.

Those who weren’t there that loved the boy were already gone to fight or dead. As for the rest of the people who had known that young soldier, they didn’t have the time to worry about what was going on or to come to his funeral. No matter what happened those people didn’t care one way or the other, indifferent to anything other than what was on TV. As far as those kinds of people were concerned their lives were static. Nothing ever changed or would. Blissful indifference.

She stood there with her husband. He stood holding her, solid as a rock. Only his eyes told of the pain and anger ravaging within. Together the soldier’s parents stood over him, even after the grave was filled in and the workers left.

In the morning her husband left with a kiss. Rifle slung over his shoulder and a bag in hand. For a moment he stood looking back at his wife, his home of so many years. At the flag hung from his porch. Meeting his wife’s eyes- husband and wife-father and mother- both knew exactly what had to be done and were set about doing it.

Several days later a paper wrapped package came to her in the mail. Letters full of hate still came but had become a trickle. To each of those kinds of letters received she sent notes in response, notes of forgiveness. She did not return to those senders back their hate, but love instead. No easy task. She let her faith guide her pen strokes.

Feeling the softness beneath the paper wrapping she knew what was wrapped inside. Over the last year she had gotten several like it. Her son would send back uniforms and other things that needed to be mended. Some things were hard to come by anymore so an old fashioned approach was needed. Needle and thread. Frugality.

It was not her son’s handwriting on the paper she stared at from her chair at the dining room table. With great care she opened her last package of her son. She took up the uniform and sought the places to be mended.

Her heart was hard yet her fingers did their work. Threading the needle. Stitch by stitch. Her sons dried blood stained the fabric where she closed up holes. Bullet holes. Such small things.

She pricked a finger while at the last hole. One that would have been near to her son’s heart. She pressed the fingertip into the shirts stain, mixing hers and his together.

Laying out the clothes across her bed she went in to take a shower. There with the water in her face she cried aloud. Letter the spray wash away her tears as fast as they came. All that was held back against her heart she let free.

In the morning she stepped down her porch and walked to her car. She turned to look back, standing for a moment. She looked at the home she had lived for so many years. At the flag hanging from her porch. To the window upstairs that had been her son’s bedroom. A rifle slung over her shoulder and a uniform stained crimson in places scarred by careful stitches. She knew what needed to be done, and set about doing it.

 ####

Tom is an erratic contributor to CDN. Former U.S. Army Signal Corps soldier, outspoken future Re-Education Camp intern #7-2521, world traveler, combat veteran and Author of the new books Lone Wolf,  Sucker Punched, dystopian near future America novels, and One Tough Truck (a War Story) available at Amazon.com.

According to cnsnews.com, President Obama has threatened to use executive actions since Congress will not submit to his demands. Anything less than full compliance with Barack Hussein Obama is “not working with” him. POTUS needs to be reminded that legislation is the job of the legislative branch of government and executing is the job of the executive branch. In other words, he needs to stay in his own area and do his own job. If he would do just that, he would not have time to meddle in the affairs of congress. But then, when you have nothing but disdain for the US Constitution and view it as a hindrance, trivial matters like switching job descriptions are no problem.

More than once over the past year, he has mentioned meeting with Congress, and has talked about sending things to Congress for them to pass. There is one little problem with this: it’s not his job! I realize anyone can write a bill, and only a member of Congress can introduce it, but his intention is to not just discuss, but to dictate. Congress is supposed to craft legislation (remember, they are the legislative branch) then they send it over to him to either sign or veto.

His reason for meddling where he doesn’t belong? The tired old mantra of growing the economy and creating jobs has been mentioned. It is not the job of the President or Congress to grow the economy or create jobs. Government needs to get out of the way and let the free market work.

His latest executive action two days after this announcement? He has appointed a director to the newly formed Consumer Finance Protection Bureau. What was the reason: a mortgage company took advantage of some elderly company and it was a crisis that just couldn’t be wasted. Result: a new watchdog group has been created out of thin air, to be funded by money that will also have to be created out of thin air. (Let us stop now for a moment of silence as we meditate on the proverb of the fox guarding the henhouse).

Obama has affirmed and re-affirmed that he wants to work with Congress only to then work around Congress. Pouting and taking your toys home is for children. A wise Rabbi once said, “When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.” It’s time to grow up, follow the rules and do things the right way. Mr. Obama should consider working with Congress, the constitutional way, the right way, through the protocol of the executive office.

Joseph Harris has been a college professor and pastor since 1987 and his writings have appeared on WorldNetdaily, Conservative Daily News, Intellectual Conservative, and Land of the Free. houdini59@att.net

PYONGYANG, North Korea (AP) – Kim Jong Il, North Korea’s mercurial and enigmatic longtime leader, has died of heart failure. He was 69.

In a “special broadcast” Monday from the North Korean capital, state media said Kim died of a heart ailment on a train due to a “great mental and physical strain” on Dec. 17 during a “high intensity field inspection.” It said an autopsy was done on Dec. 18 and “fully confirmed” the diagnosis.

Kim is believed to have suffered a stroke in 2008, but he had appeared relatively vigorous in photos and video from recent trips to China and Russia and in numerous trips around the country carefully documented by state media. The communist country’s “Dear Leader” – reputed to have had a taste for cigars, cognac and gourmet cuisine – was believed to have had diabetes and heart disease.

You can read more on the story here.

This is the difference between North and South Korea on a given night.  The South, a shining example of prosperity.  The North, a comparative wasteland.  Maybe “wasteland” is a harsh choice of wording, but which one would you rather live in?  The country with companies that (successfully) compete with America, or the country that shoots you for trying to leave?

So many “Occupy” protestors and members of the Left talk about doing away with Capitalism, that I wonder if they’ve seen pictures like this.  I wonder if they’ve seen more of what goes on in Cuba than what Michael Moore tells them.  And I also wonder why they don’t just move to their non-captialism “paradises”, if they don’t like the United States.  Last time I checked, people risk their lives to move to the U.S. and South Korea, not Cuba and North Korea.

What do you think?  Is Capitalism overrated?  Should we replace it with some sort of pseudo-socialist utopia?  Or should we put pictures like this on billboards across North America until people get the point?  Let us know in the comments below.