I Am Israel

 

I am Israel. I came to the land 4,000 years ago and I multiplied on both sides of the river Jordan, and made the land blossom. I am of Abraham, Sarah, of Isaac, Rekekah, of Jacob, of Esther, and of David.

I am Israel. My people were slaughtered by the Assyrians, then by the Greeks and then by the Romans. In 73 AD my temple in Jerusalem was destroyed by the legions of Rome. I spread throughout the middle sea but always stayed close to my Jerusalem. I visited the tombs of my patriarchs and I cried at the walls of my temple.

I am Israel. I cried for my children at the feet of the Crusaders, of the Mamluks, of the Arabs, of the Turks, of the British, at the feet of the world but I did not forget you, Oh, Zion, Oh, Jerusalem !

I am Israel. I am her native sons and daughters. From the Galilee to the hills of Judea to the sands of Arava. I gathered in my children together from many lands.

I am Israel. In 1948 I again lit my fire on the hill of nations, but my neighbours tried to destroy me, but failed. Over 1% of my children were killed defending me against my neighbours the Arabs who would not live with my hebrew children. My children defended me and I was reborn to shine my light from that hill in Judea. The Arabs blocked me from praying at your holy walls for 19 years, only I was blocked. I took in 800,000 of my children seeking refuge from the Arab lands for the next 10 years.

I am Israel. In 1967, I was again threatened and attacked but my children defended me with their blood and lives, liberating the hills of my native land and opening up my land so that I could walk again over my native hills and valleys. I could once again make the hills blossom with milk and honey. I sought peace in the land but was offered their three Noes, the kalashnikovs and their cries of genocide. They murdered my children on the beaches of Tel Aviv, the hills of the Galilee, the classrooms of Ma'Alot, the buses of the Negev, the streets of Jerusalem. They offered my children hate, death and war.

I am Israel. In 1973 the Arabs came again to destroy me and to kill my children from the river to the sea but I am Israel and I endure, I am Safed to the North, Ein Bokek to the east, I am Eilat to the South and I am Tel Aviv to the West, I endure.

In 1979, my children gave the Arabs back their Sinai lands, and offered them the olive branch of peace. They offered my children rockets and bullets.

I am Israel. I have many enemies but I also have many friends. All the forces of the world bow to the power of the oil of the Arabs, including the committees of the UN, and the political courts of the condescending élites but I am Israel, I live here, I live the reality of living in the valley of the shadow of death, but I will fear no evil. I am a real friend to all and I have real friends. I am patient in suffering but I am not to be taken for a fool.

I am Israel. I am denigrated, I am maligned, I am hated, I am blamed, I am scapegoated by all, I am condemned for defending myself and for having friends. I suffer the slings and arrows of the propaganda against me for seeking to survive, to flourish to live, to be. Many of the international news sources will only ever misrepresent me, ignore the wrongs against me, will condemn me for retaliating, will deny me my right to defend myself, will excuse the murderous attacks on my children, will refuse me the justice of my causes.

I am Israel. I have sought to make “peace” with my enemies despite the pogroms in 1929, the riots in 1936, the invasions of 1948 and 1973, the battles of 1967, the rockets of the 1980s to the suicide bombings of the 1990s. I have compromised my best interests, I have exchanged murderous Palestinian terrorists for the corpses of my children for I am Israel. I am true to my word, I negotiate, I offer my hand and I accept their unjust demands, I have released their children of terror but for them to return with knives, with cleavers, with bombs with guns and with hate. I protect my children, my friends and my native land. I will live on the hilltops without water or shade but I will make the arid land blossom and bloom. My children will be safe on my pathways and my fords, they will sup at the bosom of my springs and feed on my manna which they will nourish with their own hands.

I am Israel. My children serve in their own people's army which is the most moral in the world, slow to anger but resolute when angered. On many occasions I have stayed the hand of my children from retaliating against my enemy although he hides among his own that I would not harm the innocent. I warn my enemies and their fellow travellers before I smite them with my hand, for I am Israel. I insist that my children act in accordance with law and even offer law to those who would harm me. I argue with my children when they have done wrong and praise them when they are in the right. I’m

I am Israel. I want peace and freedom for all, and I will insist that my children are protected. I will protect my own, and offer the hand of friendship to those who have peace in their hearts, I will stand against those who would hurt my children, I will NOT stand idly by, because I am Israel.

Author: unknown. You

Just 4 months into the Biden Administration

 

Only 4 months in!!!!!

So...Israel is on fire, war in the middle east, Major US pipeline hacked, price of everyday goods is skyrocketing, Russia is massing troops on the border with Ukraine. Ukraine is threatening to take Crimea back by force. China is threatening Taiwan and its neighbors while also threatening our ships and Navy. N Korea is testing missiles again and restarting their nuclear weapons program. Iran has been emboldened and making more than their normal threats.

Our southern border is a humanitarian disaster caused directly by this administration, and the administration that promised transparency is hiding it and not letting the media have access. Ford is closing a plant and moving it to Mexico after just bringing it back from Mexico because of the current Administration’s plan for Increased taxes.

Price of steel up 145%,

Lumber 126%,

Wheat up 25%,

Food index up 25%,

Cotton 35%,

Silver 38%,

Copper 50%,

Soybeans 71%,

Oil 80%,

Pipeline jobs lost.

Wall construction jobs lost.

1.9 trillion in stimulus that funds the administrations pet projects and only paid a fraction to the people.

29 trillion in debt with 4.8 trillion projected 2021 deficit before the 2 trillion dollar stimulus proposed today for the new green deal.

9+% unemployment with millions of job openings that can’t be filled because federal unemployment assistance makes it more advantageous for people to stay home than work.

Man what an interesting time with the new administration but at least no more mean tweets..

The Black Telephone: Information please.

The Black Telephone

 

Those of us old enough to remember when the phone was wired to the wall, usually in the kitchen, can relate to this story. I loved this read.

When I was a young boy, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I remember the polished, old case fastened to the wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box. I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mother talked to it.

Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person. Her name was "Information Please" and there was nothing she did not know. Information Please could supply anyone's number and the correct time.

My personal experience with the genie-in-a-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer, the pain was terrible, but there seemed no point in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy. I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway.

The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the footstool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear. "Information, please," I said into the mouthpiece just above my head.

A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear.

“Information."

"I hurt my finger..." I wailed into the phone, the tears came readily enough now that I had an audience.

"Isn't your mother home?" came the question.

"Nobody's home but me," I blubbered.

"Are you bleeding?" the voice asked.

"No, "I replied. "I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts."

"Can you open the icebox?" she asked.

I said I could.

"Then chip off a little bit of ice and hold it to your finger," said the voice.

After that, I called "Information Please" for everything. I asked her for help with my geography, and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math. She told me my pet chipmunk that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts.

Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary, died. I called, "Information Please," and told her the sad story. She listened, and then said things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was not consoled. I asked her,

“Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?"

She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly,

“Wayne, always remember that there are other worlds to sing in."

Somehow I felt better.

Another day I was on the telephone,

"Information Please."

"Information," said in the now familiar voice.

"How do I spell fix?" I asked

All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest. When I was nine years old, we moved across the country to Boston . I missed my friend very much.

"Information Please" belonged in that old wooden box back home and I somehow never thought of trying the shiny new phone that sat on the table in the hall. As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me. Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.

A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle. I had about a half-hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, "Information Please."

Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well.

"Information."

I hadn't planned this, but I heard myself saying, "Could you please tell me how to spell fix?"

There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, "I guess your finger must have healed by now."

I laughed, "So it's really you," I said. "I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time?"

"I wonder," she said, "if you know how much your calls meant to me. I never had any children and I used to look forward to your calls."

I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister.

"Please do," she said. "Just ask for Sally."

Three months later I was back in Seattle. A different voice answered, "Information." I asked for Sally.

"Are you a friend?" she said.

"Yes, a very old friend," I answered.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this," She said. "Sally had been working part time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago."

Before I could hang up, she said, "Wait a minute. Is your name Wayne?"

"Yes." I answered.

Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case you called. Let me read it to you. The note said,

“Tell Wayne there are other worlds to sing in. He'll know what I mean."

I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant.

Never underestimate the impression you may make on others. Whose life have you touched today?

THE UNANSWERED MYSTERY OF THE CENTURY!!!

Oh, it will come out one day, and it will be this Country's biggest embarrassment.....EVER......    T.J.

 It is already a MASSIVE embarrassment!!!

THE UNANSWERED MYSTERY OF THE CENTURY!!!

 

His 8 years of living in the White House is over. He’s (mostly) gone ... but questions remain. This came from a union guy in Chicago who didn't vote for Obama. A very interesting perspective! 

 

It will be interesting to see what they put in his "Library" about his early years now that he is out of office. In a country where we take notice of many, many facets of our public figures' lives, doesn't it seem odd that there's so little we know about Barack Obama?

 

As Americans, we enjoy knowing details about our news makers, but none of us know one single humanizing fact about the history of our own ex-president.
We are all aware of the lack of incontestable birth records for Obama; that “document managing “has been spectacularly successful. There are however, several additional oddities in Obama's history that appear to be as well managed as the birthing issue.

 

One other interesting thing ... There are no birth certificates of his daughters that can be found?

 

It's interesting that no one who ever dated him has shown up. The charisma that caused women to be drawn to him so strongly during his campaign, certainly would in the normal course of events, leads some lady to come forward, if only to garner some attention for herself.

 

We all know about JFK's magnetism, that McCain was no monk and quite a few details about Palin's courtship and even her athletic prowess, Joe Biden's aneurysms are no secret; look at Cheney and Clinton, we all know about their heart problems. Certainly Wild Bill Clinton's exploits before and during his White House years, were well known. That's why it's so odd that not one lady has stepped up and said, "He was so shy" or "What a great dancer" 

 

It's virtually impossible to know anything about this fellow. Who was best man at his wedding? Start there. Then check groomsmen.

 

To get the footage of the graduation ceremony. Has anyone talked to the professors? It is odd that no one is bragging that they knew him or taught him or lived with him. 

 

When did he meet Michelle, and how? Are there photos there? Every president gives to the public all their photos, etc. for their library, etc. What has he released? And who voted for him to be the most popular man in 2010? Doesn't this make you wonder?

 

Ever wonder why no one ever came forward from Obama's past saying they knew him, attended school with him, was his friend, etc.?? Not one person has ever come forward from his past. It certainly is very, very strange. 

 

This should be a cause for great concern. To those who voted for him, you may have elected an unqualified, inexperienced shadow man. Have you seen a movie named "The Manchurian Candidate"? 

 

As insignificant as each of us might be, someone with whom we went to school will remember our name or face; someone will remember we were the clown or the dork or the brain or the quiet one or the bully or something about us.

 

George Stephanopoulos of ABC News said the same thing during the 2008 campaign. He questions why no one has acknowledged he was in their classroom or ate in the same cafeteria or made impromptu speeches on campus. 

 

Stephanopoulos also was a classmate of Obama at Columbia -- the class of 1984. He says he never had a single class with him.

 

He is such a great orator; why doesn't anyone in Obama's college class remember him? Why won't he allow Columbia to release his records? Nobody remembers Obama at Columbia University. 

 

Looking for evidence of Obama's past, Fox News contacted 400 Columbia University students from the period when Obama claims to have been there... but none remembered him. 

 

Wayne Allyn Root was, like Obama, a political science major at Columbia who also graduated in 1983. In 2008, Root says of Obama, "I don't know a single person at Columbia that knew him, and they all know me. I don't have a classmate who ever knew Barack Obama at Columbia, ever."

 

Nobody recalls him. Root adds that he was also, like Obama, Class of '83 Political Science, and says, "You don't get more exact or closer than that. Never met him in my life, don't know anyone who ever met him. At class reunion, our 20th reunion five years ago, who was asked to be the speaker of the class? Me. No one ever heard of Barack!

 

And five years ago, nobody even knew who he was. The guy who writes the class notes, who's kind of the, as we say in New York, 'the macha' who knows everybody, has yet to find a person, a human who ever met him." 

 

Obama's photograph does not appear in the school's yearbooks and Obama consistently declines requests to talk about his years at Columbia, provide school records, or provide the name of any former classmates or friends while at Columbia. 
 

 

Some other interesting questions:

 

1.Why was Obama's law license inactivated in 2002? It is said there is no record of him ever taking the Bar exam.

 

2...Why was Michelle's law license inactivated by court order? We understand that it was forced to avoid fraud charges

 

3...How did he receive aid as a foreign exchange student if he’s actually an American citizen?

 

It is circulating that according to the U.S Census, there is only one Barack Obama but 27 Social Security numbers and over 80 aliases are connected to him. 

 

The Social Security number he uses now originated in Connecticut where he is reported to have never lived. And was originally registered to another man (Thomas Louis Wood) from Connecticut, who died in Hawaii while on vacation there.

 

As we all know Social Security Numbers are only issued 'once, they are not reused. No wonder all his records are sealed...

 

Please continue sending this out. Somewhere, someone has to know SOMETHING, before he reorganized Chicago? SOMETHING!!! He just seemed to burst upon the scene at the 2004 Democratic Convention. 

 

ANYONE??? - ANYWHERE??? - ANYTHING???

 

I think soon much is going to come to light about this highly unqualified person who was President of the United States for 8 years. Soon, we will know how badly we were all doped and duped by this impostor who has basically, with much help from his minions, almost brought the greatest nation in history to its knees in ruins. That will be his legacy. He totally destroyed the Integrity, morals and Christian heritage of our once great country. 

 

 

But, WHO THE HELL IS HE???

 

What I can teach you about racism.

·

WHAT I CAN TEACH YOU

ABOUT RACISM

 

 

Let me tell you how my story ends: I become a tenured, award-winning professor of political science at an Ivy League university, and then at one of the leading universities in the South.

Now let me tell you how my story begins: I grow up in rural Virginia, literally dirt poor. I drop out of school in the eighth grade and have three children by the time I'm 20.

I consider myself to be a reasonably modest person, but even I have to admit that's quite a journey.

How did I do it?

I worked hard. Not crazy, 24/7 hard—just hard. I made good decisions. Not brilliant, three-dimensional-chess decisions—just good ones. I met people along the way who helped me and sincerely wanted to see me succeed—not because they had something to gain, but because they were decent people. Almost all of these individuals, by the way, were white.

But mostly, I think I was blessed in one crucial way: I was born in America, a true land of opportunity for anyone of any color or background. In this country, where you start your life does not determine where you end up.

That works in both directions, by the way. You can start out with every advantage and waste them all. Or you can start out with nothing and become a success. It all depends on you. Your attitude is far more important than your race, gender, or social class in determining what you will accomplish in life.

When I hear young blacks—or anyone, for that matter—talk about systemic racism, I don't know whether to laugh or cry. I want to laugh because it's such nonsense. I want to cry because I know it's pushing untold numbers of young blacks into a dead end of self-pity and despair. Instead of seizing the amazing opportunities America offers them, they seize an excuse to explain why they're not succeeding.

I was born into a world where systemic racism was real—no-fooling, outright-bigotry, back-of-the-bus real. But here's what you need to know: Yes, that racism shaped the black experience—but even then, it did not define it. Change was in the air. Call it systemic reform.

The modern Civil Rights Movement was in its infancy, and the leaders who fought for equal rights for blacks were men and women of all races. They believed in America and were determined to see it live up to its highest ideals—ideals manifest in the Declaration of Independence and the US Constitution.

Did I know, growing up, that George Washington and Thomas Jefferson owned slaves? I don't think I ever thought about it. If I did, I'd like to think that I would have had enough common sense to know that we can't judge men who lived 250 years ago by the moral standards of our own day.

But I know that Jefferson wrote the words in the Declaration of Independence that made slavery ultimately impossible: that all men are created equal. And I know that Washington, Hamilton, Franklin, Adams and the rest of the Founders risked everything to make my world, my America, possible. How could I not be grateful for that and for the sacrifices so many others have made to preserve it?

The truth is I cannot remember a time when I did not love America and feel pride in the belief that I live in the greatest country in the world. I knew if I diligently pursued my ambitions, I could leave the poverty of my early years, with all its abuse and depression, behind me.

I was fortunate in another way. I was spared the life-sapping, negative messages about America that are crippling a generation of young people. These ideas are poison:

☆ White privilege.

☆ Whiteness as a form of property.

☆ Unconscious racism.

☆ Reparations.

☆ Microaggressions.

☆ Police have it out for blacks.

☆ That the United States was created to protect and promote slavery.

These are the ideas young people are told they must accept. And then they're told to reject the ideas that can save them—the antidote: the success principles that enabled me and millions of other Americans to escape lives of poverty.

These principles aren't complicated: work hard, learn from your mistakes, take personal responsibility for your actions. When I made the decisions to get my high school equivalency, attend a community college, and then earn four additional college and university degrees, I believed that my education would open doors. And it did.

It was only when exposed to academic theories of oppression in graduate school that I was informed that because I was black, poor, and female, I could never do what I had already accomplished.

Thank God, it was too late for these toxic messages to stop me. Don't let them stop you.

—Carol Swain

Five big city surgeons are discussing who make the best patients to operate on.

 

Five big city surgeons are discussing who make the best patients to operate on.

The first surgeon, from New York, says, "I like to see accountants on
my operating table because when you open them up, everything inside is
numbered."

The second, from Chicago, responds, "Yeah, but you should try
electricians. Everything inside them is color coded."

The third surgeon, from Dallas, says, "No, I really think librarians
are the best. Everything inside them is in alphabetical order.

The fourth surgeon, from Los Angeles, chimes in: "You know, I like
construction workers. Those guys always understand when you have a few
pieces left over."

But the fifth surgeon, from Washington DC, shut them all up when he
observed: "You're all wrong. Politicians are the easiest to operate
on. There's no guts, no heart, no balls, no brains, and no spine.
Plus, the head and the ass are interchangeable."
--

A man died and went to Heaven, now the rest of the story.

 

A man died and went to heaven. As he stood in front of St. Peter at the Pearly Gates, he saw a huge wall of clocks behind him.

He asked, “What are all those clocks?”

St. Peter answered, “Those are Lie-Clocks. Everyone on Earth has a Lie-Clock. Every time you lie the hands on your clock will move.”

“Oh,” said the man, “whose clock is that?”

“That’s Mother Teresa’s. The hands have never moved, indicating that she never told a lie.”

“Incredible,” said the man.

“That’s Abraham Lincoln’s clock. The hands have moved twice, telling us that Abe told only two lies in his entire life,” St. Peter informed him.

“Where’s Cuomo’s clock?”

“His clock is in Jesus’s office. He’s using it as a ceiling fan.”