Podcasts about we americans

TALK TO ME, TEXT ITThe absurdity of modern drama against the backdrop of historic valor forms the core of this thought-provoking episode. We begin with an unexpected morning excitement involving a fire truck in the parking lot, quickly transitioning to the childish social media feud between Donald Trump and Elon Musk that has dominated headlines."We Americans are way bigger and stronger. We have more important things to do than worry about two rich guys having a little titty fight on social media," we observe, highlighting the irony of how women are often criticized for being too emotional while powerful men engage in petty public disputes. The Steve Bannon suggestion that Trump should deport Elon Musk only adds another layer of absurdity to this unnecessary distraction.The episode then pivots to something truly meaningful – commemorating D-Day on its anniversary. We explore the historical significance of June 6, 1944, detailing how 156,000 brave souls stormed five beaches in Normandy as part of Operation Overlord, the largest land, sea, and air invasion ever attempted. The invasion, originally scheduled for June 5th but postponed due to weather conditions, involved 5,000 ships and 11,000 aircraft. Most poignantly, we note that only about 66,143 of the 16.4 million Americans who served in World War II remain alive today according to Veterans Affairs statistics. Their living memories are disappearing daily, making it all the more crucial that we honor their sacrifice rather than becoming distracted by fleeting billionaire drama.What are your thoughts on the Trump-Musk feud? More importantly, do you have family stories about D-Day or WWII to share? Join the conversation and help ensure these historic sacrifices aren't forgotten while the media focuses on temporary disputes. Tune in Sunday for our Brood Awakening podcast where we'll continue exploring topics that truly matter beyond the headlines.Buzzsprout - Let's get your podcast launched!Start for FREE Thanks for listening! Liberty Line each week on Sunday, look for topics on my X file @americanistblog and submit your 1-3 audio opinions to anamericanistblog@gmail.com and you'll be featured on the podcast. Buzzsprout - Let's get your podcast launched!Start for FREESupport the showTip Jar for coffee $ - Thanks Music by Alehandro Vodnik from Pixabay Blog - AnAmericanist.comX - @americanistblog

This week on aBlogtoWatch Weekly, Rick starts the show with a question about Ariel's recent column about luxury watch pricing and its downstream effects. Ariel has much to say about this topic beyond the obvious. Who knew this was a can o' worms? Leave it Ariel to dig up questions in a space that seems well understood. Check your assumptions, people! Ripley and David weigh in from their own experiences as longtime enthusiasts. Rick then pops a photo on the screen of a luxury yacht designed to hold eight people, sinking under the weight of 32 souls. Not sure what this has to do with watches, except those sinking like they have stones in their pockets are likely debating how to save the watches they're wearing. In a similar vein, David presents his favorite marketing pitch — yes, this was an assignment — can you tell these guys get a lot of emails that seem quite random? (Don't miss the bit about the Trump watch error. We Americans love it when Rick rubs our noses in the country's current political administration. "No, I'm laughing WITH you!") The fun continues throughout the hour with a mix of levity and serious watch talk. Tune in!

We Americans think that (the sin of) gluttony is simply eating too much. And we think the results of that speak for themselves in larger bodies and higher fat indexes. But we're missing a LOT of what gluttony is (really all) about. In fact, gluttony can have to do with food rules (those foods are bad and these foods are good), picky eating, and so much more. So if gluttony isn't simply eating too much food, what is it? And why do so many of us turn to food for comfort and help when we're experiencing big (or difficult) emotions?

Trump lies almost every time he opens his mouth. And I stopped saying shame on Trump for lying a long time ago. Now I say shame on his supporters for allowing Trump to lie to them. Trump's lying is on them, not him. And btw, We Americans will never get back a healthy democracy if we don't demand a semblance of truth from the politicians who represent us. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

We Americans love us some pizza! So much so, there are statistical surveys about our pizza! Granted, it's from Pizza Hut...but still! PIZZA!! Find out what the survey found & more, like another reason to stay off social media, in STUPID NEWS! #PhilShowSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Let us go to the sanctuary of the Lord; let us worship at the footstool of his throne. (Psalm 132:7 NLT) The Bible doesn't tell us much about the boyhood years of Jesus. But it does give us an instance where Mary and Joseph went to Jerusalem for the Passover celebration, and they took twelve-year-old Jesus with them. Then they made the journey back home. In those days, the men and women traveled separately. Joseph thought that Jesus was with Mary. And Mary thought that Jesus was with Joseph. But then they realized they had lost Jesus. So, they frantically made their way back to Jerusalem. They found Him in the temple three days later, where He was speaking with the elders. Jesus said to them, “Didn't you know that I must be in my Father's house?” (Luke 2:49 NLT). Imagine the panicked couple running around town, asking people if they had seen their son. We can become so busy, especially at this time of year, that we don't have time for God. We can be so busy celebrating Christmas that we lose Jesus. We string the lights, trim the tree, and buy the gifts. And during all this busyness, we can forget all about the Lord. We can lose Jesus just like Mary and Joseph did. We Americans are so busy. You could write on our tombstones, “Hurried. Worried. Buried.” We're always rushing about, and that is more evident at Christmas than at any other time of year. Lines are long and tempers are short. We think Christmas will bring us some measure of happiness. But after so much buildup, Christmas can be a letdown. Then there is the mess and cleaning up. Soon the bills start arriving, and reality kicks in. Experts tell us that calls to psychiatrists and emergency rooms increase during this time of year. That is because Christmas can't measure up to its romanticized image. So many of us say, “I would like to make time for God, but I am just so busy. I work too hard and don't have any time in my schedule. I would like to go to church, but there just isn't time for that. I would like to read my Bible, but I just can't find the time.” However, we find time for what is important to us. It seems the only place where there ever was room for Jesus was on a cross where He died for the sins of the world. Ironically, Jesus Himself said, “There is more than enough room in my Father's home” (John 14:2 NLT). We don't have room for Him, but He has many rooms for us. Jesus took His place in a manger so that we could have a home in Heaven. So, let's forget about the clutter and hype and replace it with the Christ of Christmas. Then it will be great. It is not about Christmas presents; it is about His presence in our lives. The message of the season is not “let it snow” or “let us shop.” It is “let us worship.” If we will focus on that, then Christmas will be a blessed time for us. — Listen to the Greg Laurie Podcast Become a Harvest PartnerSupport the show: https://harvest.org/supportSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Crashing Lightening and Rolling Thunder. In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected.. “You will never appreciate having to follow a difficult order until you have to give one.” (Late, late Saturday Night) Had I been alone? There are few perks to a solitary lifestyle. One of the few is the freedom from others; and by that I mean you don't have to decide if you care about people you don't know. You are free. Your emotions are free, your decisions are free and your time is your own. Selfish in the best way. Libra took my keys after we arrived at my apartment building and raced ahead to make sure that Timothy and Odette, if either was awake, would be forewarned. Casper clung to me as she always did. Estere took the lead since I also had to do pack mule duty. Brooke carried the few things that were beyond me. The rain was turning from a drizzle to a downpour. Odette had a friend over; a female acquaintance. Timothy; Timothy was in the middle of a very successful date night. Now I had the joy of being an auditory spectator in my domicile's sexcapades. "Shouldn't she be taken to a clinic, or something?" the friend blurted out. I didn't know her enough to decide if she was nervous, flippant, or secretly cruel. Casper dug in tighter. I had to dump the luggage to deal with her heightened anxiety. Libra, Brooke and Odette picked up the slack while Estere soaked in the ambiance of my dwelling. The look she gave me was one of amusement and intrigue. This was hardly the lair of the one and only Amazon Prince. It was sublime and comfortable. It had a nomadic quality she found familiar. Being in a fortress has its comforts. Being in someone else's fortress is far less comfortable. Estere was quietly accounting for every knife, mallet, or other potentially fatal piece of housewares. Brooke, Libra and Odette were already ordering and organizing my life ;  what did they need to get and how would they get it? "So; you are Odette's; friend," the unknown woman stated. Snapping at her was unduly unfair to Odette, who put up with mountains of my insane lifestyle. "Yeah, that's me. Cáel Nyilas; self-made troublemaker," I confessed. "You?" "Delilah," she answered. "What happened to her?" Casper flinched. "Nothing that being reminded about what a wonderful friend she is won't help heal," I cautiously responded. "She is hanging out with me and some friends for the weekend." "Cut it out, Delilah," Odette sighed. "Who are you really, anyway?" Delilah was smooth, I had to give her that. "Odette, what do you mean?" Delilah stood up. "Delilah, or whoever you are, I'm not such a wonderful person that people I've known two days come home with me," Odette lectured. "Now, I kept you here until you could meet Cáel, so why don't you return my courtesy and tell us what's going on?" Odette was keeping Libra and Brooke in my room thus out of play. Timothy climaxed. Good for him. Out in the living room, Delilah made a stutter step. She was frozen by Estere's silenced weapon pointed at her. "You were spotted by a rank amateur," the Hashashin noted. "Who are you with?" "You people are nuts," Delilah flushed with panic. Nice touch, but that panic didn't reach her cold, calculating eyes. "Damn Delilah," Odette shook her head. "You need to watch more television. BBC America has this nice drama called Orphan Black where the exact same thing happened. I knew you were lying to me in twenty minutes. I was nice enough to not bring the Death Squad across the street over to deal with you. They wouldn't have cared whether I was being paranoid or whatever. They would have dragged you out and killed you on general principle. You owe me." "I don't know what's wrong;” Delilah got out. There was a rapid knocking at the door. Shielding Casper behind me, I backed up in that direction. "Last chance," Odette looked at Delilah sternly. "That's the Death Squad." Sure enough, I checked and it was two Amazons in full gear. I opened up and the two edged in around me. "Ishara; status please," the leader asked. "Estere Abed is a diplomat for her Protocol faction, there should be records of Brooke and Libra on file and Odette belongs here. Casper is behind me; special case. That woman," I motioned to Delilah, "is of unknown origin." "Miss, lay down on the floor, on your stomach; arms out to your sides," the leader brought her UP-40 up, aimed at Delilah. "This is insane," Delilah sounded really frantic. Not in the eyes though. "Lie down, or three rounds in the chest," the Amazon team leader related calmly. "Last chance." Delilah decided that she wasn't cut from a fanatic's cloth. She went down like a pro. The two Amazons closed in. I spotted the third of the four woman team at my door, keeping watch. The two inside efficiently bound her hands behind her back and patted her down for weapons; none. "She is in violation of the truce," the leader pointed out. "Should I dispatch her now?" "Wait!" Delilah squawked. "I'm supposed to keep an eye on him and protect him, not hurt him. Fuck, don't kill me for this." "Who are you working for?" Estere came closer. Delilah hesitated so both Estere and the number two Amazon drew their knives. "Fine! Fine. All I have is a name and I'm only supposed to tell him," she pleaded. There was a moment of uncertainty. "She'll tell us," Estere knelt beside Delilah. Now Delilah's panic was real. "Wait," I stated. I motioned Brooke and Libra to move around the crowded room and comfort Casper. "Well," I sighed as I went on my hands and knees beside Delilah's head. The Amazon leader had her hand on the woman's head, pressed tightly to the ground. "Sibeal," Delilah whispered. Mom. "Do you have any way of contacting this person?" I asked. "No. It is not how I work," she said and finally I caught it. The accent. I looked to the leader. "Look at her hands and tell me what you see," I asked the Amazon. I went back to resting on my knees. "Hard; callused from repetitive weapons practice. Short nails. She's very fit," the Team Lead kept up the examination. "I apologize Ishara. She's a soldier." "Let her go," I commanded. The Amazon only paused for a moment before cutting her bonds. Delilah moved cautiously as she moved to a cross-legged position. "You don't have to answer me, but I'd appreciate some honesty. You're English. Would that make you MI-5, or MI-6?" It wasn't as huge a leap as it looked. Who could Mom trust? In this case, a government operative would actually be safer for her and she had to have decades of Illuminati information inside her head. Delilah had one reason to be honest; her mission. "MI-5 is counter-intelligence," Delilah grinned as her British accent came out to play. "M I 6. S I S is foreign intelligence. I'll let you figure it out." "Good enough," I stood then helped her stand as well. "You can stay; starting Monday. I need a break, okay?" Delilah nodded. "Deal. Now do me the courtesy of telling me why I'm here?" she asked. "Love. Deep, abiding love," I looked right into her soul. Crisis averted. Delilah 'agreed' to go with my guardians to 'work things out'. Delilah was curious as to why they called Cáel Nyilas; Ishara. She also congratulated Odette on figuring something was up. Odette told her not to feel bad about it; reference all the psycho bitches that showed up in my life. Brooke headed out to gather some more belongings for herself and Libra because; my vote not even elicited; they were going to hang close to Casper and I for a few more days. Libra and Estere headed out to that authentic Italian pizza joint I'd taken Libra to earlier since my food stockpile was abysmal and the neighborhood was far from safe this late at night. Odette took Casper to my bedroom so that Casper could talk with her parents in Delaware. Timothy and his date emerged from his room. It was Sovann Mean, who I had met before and gotten along with. It took me all of two seconds to figure out what had happened. Sovann had asked Timothy out because Timothy never thought Sovann was interested in him. Sovann was a second generation Cambodian-American and had this stoic demeanor he raised up whenever he was nervous, ensuring Timothy's confusion. "Hey Cáel," Sovann smiled at me. "Still being good?" That was code for me being 'straight'. It still weirded me out a bit; Sovann was a serious weightlifter, like Timothy and I, but a head shorter, so he looked stockier than he really was. When he smiled, his whole face lit up too. It was the Khmer 'twang' that always sounded out of place to me. "We will not discuss the number of women who were here mere moments ago," I joked wearily. "Timothy, I apologize for coming back early; shithead-intervention shut things down in the Hamptons." "No problem, Bro," Timothy came and gave me a man-hug. "With your newfound wealth, we may need to convert the sofa to a sleeper-sofa," Timothy semi-joked. "Oh yeah, and that girl down the hall; when I told her your father died, she baked you some cookies. They're in a tin by the toaster. They really are pretty good, too; walnut and caramel chip." That sounded tasty. I guessed that meant I finally had to meet the women. Sovann came up and fist-bumped me as Timothy went for the refrigerator. The doorbell rang. I wondered who had forgotten what as I swung the door open. Lighting exploded outdoors, our lights flickered and thunder shook the apartment. It was Uncle Carrig. As the old song said 'he looked like a jigsaw puzzle with a couple of pieces gone'. His eyes wore a harried, feral look. His bellow, as he charged, rolled over me like the amplified heartbeat of a hellish primate. I had no time before he was on me. Down we went. I tried to push him off of me. His suit was soaked with rain and blood, some of it had to be his own. In his right hand he held a dull aluminum cylinder with a metallic suction cup on the bottom. Sovann kicked Uncle Lumpy in the side of the head. Inflicted on a normal man, that would have driven him off me. Lumpy released his hold on my shoulder and backhanded Sovann. The Cambodian went flying in the direction of the sofa despite getting a leg block up. I had a flash of Timothy going for his home deterrent system, aka the crowbar. Odette began yelling. The cylinder was coming down. Carrig's left grabbed my chin, fixing my head in place. I opted to use both my arms to stop his right, and the device, from coming down. I bought a little time. Timothy's blow came down on Lumpy's left shoulder, weakening the hold, but not enough. The device slammed into my forehead. I felt a burning pain as a portion of the flesh beneath the cup was flash-fried away. More pain, then a little pressure and finally nothing. In those seconds before my mind spun out of control, I had the oddest sensation there was something inside my brain. Searing agony; existence lost all meaning and I was gone. (One week later) They say pain in the brain is illusionary. Of all your nerve cells, only a tiny fraction are devoted to pain. The rest do the important work of keeping your body functioning. The brain is on top of it all and it has better things to do that register pain; or so I was told. To be somewhat fair, what I felt wasn't exactly pain. It was the sensation that something was crawling around inside my psyche, doing something. Sharp, tingling jolts shocked my body parts at regular intervals. Painful in their own way, yet not so much I couldn't concentrate. I opened my eyes. The lights in my room had been dimmed, but not enough that I couldn't see the six ladies standing about; doing nothing. I recognized my present lodgings as Havenstone Post-classical Modernism (total lie; I'm not an interior designer). The six ladies turned, looked at me, then closed in slowly. A staring contest was in the offing when two people entered the room from the door at the foot of the bed. It then occurred to me that little sonic indicators on the machinery surrounding me were chirping loudly. One woman was a physician's assistant I knew from an earlier bout at Havenstone Medical. She had performed CPR on me. The other woman; she was the senior-most recruit from my father's graveside service. She looked positively grim. My dry throat requested some water then I attempted to rise. A problem instantly revealed itself. I was strapped down on my bed. The ankles, wrists and a neck/head brace kept my movements to a minimum. There was a side benefit to this imprisonment. That body-wide jolts? My body was wired up to a system that had needles piercing my muscle clusters. Amazons prided themselves on being physically fit and their tolerance for pain. My muscles hadn't atrophied during my; coma and the price was this constant, low-level pain. I still wasn't sure that was the reason I was bound. The PA maneuvered a plastic bottle with a spout to my lips and gave me a brief squirt. A few seconds later I got another and then a third. "Okay," I rasped. "What's going on?" "You have been in an unresponsive state for 7 days, Ishara," the 'senior' told me. "Why are you here?" I coughed. "I mean, why aren't you on the job?" She blinked. "Your life was imperiled so we decided that five of us would be around to monitor you and keep you safe," she answered. "What's with everyone else?" I huffed. The two looked at me. The quiet six were of no help. "Fine, what are you ladies doing here?" I asked the women originally in the room. No answer. "Ishara?" the PA worried. That was when it dawned on me that the two and the six weren't interacting on any level. "How many people are in the room?" I asked my housemate. She paused. "There are three of us, Ishara. You, me and the attendant," she answered. "How many people do you see?" "Well shit," I muttered. Then the first of the six spoke to me. Actually, she mouthed to me. It took me a moment to realize she was giving me her name. The next one started. "Device," I snapped to the 'senior'. As she hesitantly reached for hers, I began rattling off the names. When the sixth one gave me her name, the group dissipated into the ether. "Who are these women?" 'senior' requested. "Find out," I sighed then, "It is important." She nodded. Now that the specters were gone, the mortals began to come in. Right off the bat, I was confirmed in my status as "prisoner". They wouldn't free me when I requested it and they made no attempt to conceal their hostility to my fellow Isharan. The agenda was decided without me; they were going to check me out mentally, then I was off to see Hayden. Why was I imprisoned? My brain was a maelstrom of activity across a broad spectrum of regions and lobes. What had happened? They didn't know. The suction cup had stabilized the tube which was really a firing mechanism. When the device was able to detect and aim for a specific part of my brain, the longitudinal fissure, it shot a rod three-quarters into my cranium. A laser had burned through the skin and skull with surgeon-like precision so a barb of unknown construction could go deep into my brain. Then it 'detonated'. That was one of the problems the medicos of Havenstone were facing. The device had been so badly damaged when it unleashed its energy that they could no longer divine its function. What they did understand was that while my neural network was going super-nova, it wasn't killing me. They leapt on the idea of mind control. That theory sounded pretty lame to me, but I was the one tied down, with one ally in a room full of people bred to mistrust all males. The next approach; was I sane? The PA offered that I was seeing phantasms. 'Wait'. "Go," I directed the senior. "Take care of the business I have given you then tell Buffy and Helena what you've found out. You are wasting your time staying here." She nodded and left. It was more "common sense" rather than any sense of my leadership that made her leave. But that done; I concentrated on the entirety of the message so that it settled upon my soul. I relaxed, shut my eyes and let the world float by. It took them a minute to notice my noncompliance; any positive contribution on my part had slipped so far down in their expectations. "Ishara?" one of the SD chicks inquired. I opened one eye, then shut it. There was nothing to be done. "What is he doing?" that Amazon asked a physician. She, in turn asked me. I took a deep, cleansing breath and continued to ignore them. "There is nothing wrong with him," the physician noted. "He is being childish." That went beyond disrespectful. As a quirk of Amazon society, they had left me my knife strapped to my arm. To take it would have been an insult my tiny house could not have borne; essentially declaring me incompetent. I was heading that way, but not yet. That didn't stop them from deriding me until a lull finally developed. For a moment, I thought I was alone. I was intrigued by the words suddenly aimed my way. "Mr. Nyilas?" an unknown female inquired. I opened an eye. Woman; bad suit; and a badge. What the fuck? I was in Havenstone. "Special Agent Virginia Maddox with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. I'd like to ask you a few questions," she began. "Okay," I cleared my throat, "as long as we are clear I am one misstep away from invoking my Miranda Rights." She worked that one over for a second. "Do you know why your uncle attacked you?" "Honestly, I'm curious as to why I'm still alive," I tried to shrug. "Carrig and I never got along, if you consider when I first met him we fought and the second time he stabbed me in the forehead," I explained. "How long did you and your uncle fight; the second time?" she asked. "Um; six second," I guessed. "How is Lumpy doing, anyway?" "Lumpy?" "Uncle Carrig." "He's dead." "Seriously; fuck. What killed him?" "We are working that out. He was beaten, stabbed; by three different blades, shot 67 times by five different firearms, only two which we have recovered," Virginia stated. "We also think he was hit by two cars, one dump truck and a subway." "Well; yeah; Uncle Carrig was looking a bit rough when I answered the door," I confessed. Lumpy had to have been on a freaking quest to go through all that to get to me. Subway? He was hit by a subway and walked away. Most people barely leave a recognizable corpse. "How are Odette, Timothy, Casper and Sovann?" I recalled. She looked at her phone. "They are mostly fine. Casper Winslow was taken to the hospital in shock and was released to her parents," she said. "The other three were taken to the Emergency Room, treated for minor injuries and released," Virginia informed me. "The other four women were a more delicate manner." "Four women? Could you be more specific?" "Your bodyguards." "Could you be more specific?" "For a person with supposedly limited financial means, a lower income lifestyle and a humble background, you appear to have a small army hovering around you, high society friends, and lawyers who are on a first name basis with Supreme Court Justices," Virginia noted. "Lady, half-way through Day Two on this job, I almost gave it all up and biked my ass down to Terra del Fuego to live the sane life of a paranoid recluse," I sighed. "Why didn't you?" "Cause I'm an idiot. I was hoping a crackerjack investigator like you would have figured this out by now," I grinned. "How do you know I'm any good at my job?" she sent a sultry lip twist my way. Yes; pinned to a bed I could still attract the ladies. Having hundreds of little needles in me made the prospects for a quick sexual romp unlikely. "Javiera chose you for this assignment," I told her. "You have to be a woman because this is Havenstone and you have to be clever because this is a lunatic asylum." "Touché," she acknowledged my above average mental status. Next came a list of names. It took me a few seconds to focus on them. "Oh, what happened to them?" I inquired. "What makes you think anything happened to these people?" she parried. "Oh, I'm betting Javiera gave you a list of names and there is only person left alive out of that group," I felt introspective. "I wonder where Anima is hiding." "What happened to those people?" she persisted. "I don't know. I've been napping for the past week, but I'm betting they all met nasty ends," I told her. "Why were these people murdered?" "Were they murdered, or are they merely deceased? See, if I give you my opinion, you will have to pursue that line of inquiry which will only hurt one person who has already been hurt enough and save somebody who shouldn't be saved," I explained. "Why do you get to determine who gets saved?" Virginia pressed. "As opposed to who? You and Javiera? That's laughable. Why don't you go down the net worth of the families of those unfortunate corpses, then tell me how balanced your justice system would be? Please understand, I don't hold you and your profession in contempt," I met her hardening gaze. "To prove to me that I'm wrong, all you have to do is honestly tell me that high-priced lawyers, legions of specialists that confuse juries and enormous bank accounts to keep the appeals going indefinitely while the guilty roam about on bail equates to the legal process working fairly and impartially," I reposted. "That's not the same thing as;” she got out before the door opened and several people traipsed in, including three SD personnel. Last came Troika and she was coldly furious. "I was promised more time with Mr. Nyilas," Virginia protested. She was ignored. "Ishara, you are coming with us," Troika snapped. To be fair, the medical attendant wasn't overly torturous as she pulled out the muscle stimulatory aids and applied the bandages. It still sucked. That was ameliorated somewhat by the read I was getting of Troika. I waited for the last restraint to be removed before speaking. "I refuse to go with you," I stated firmly even as I sat up. See, I needed something to happen that was beyond my ability to obtain. "Take him," Troika directed two of the SD babes. My captors had gone out of their way to make sure these Amazons weren't ladies I knew. "Stop," I declared with authorities. "You cannot touch me against my will as that violates Hayden's ban on me entering blood feuds and wrangling me anywhere against my will constitutes a blood feud in Ishara's eyes." "It is Hayden's order," Troika snapped. "Has she lifted the ban? If not, these ladies will be breaking Hayden's decree." Troika harrumphed then gave Hayden a call. For the purpose of this meeting, the ban was lifted. That was what I needed so off I went. I waited until we got in the elevator and were heading up before launching my strike. Pamela would have been so proud. If Troika had given me an ounce of dignity, I couldn't have pulled it off. As it was, the first stab took her just under the left eye, the second punched through her cheek and spitted her tongue. The third nearly severed her upper lip and then the SD were on me. "Blood Feud!" I screamed. "You stole from me!" Troika was about to come back at me, knife in hand. One of the SD got in the way. What I had done was illegal; blood feuds needed to be approved; except for one tidbit of law Pamela taught me and it was about to come into play. "You cannot wound him while he is in our custody, Troika of Šauška," the Amazon protested. Troika gargled something through the ruin of the left side of her face. "I will peel off a meter of your flesh for this insult," she managed to oozingly communicate before we reached the top floor. For my part; "Unhand me." They didn't. "Unhand me, or am I no longer Head of House Ishara." "Do not attack her," the SD leader stated. "Would you care to explain to me why you are giving me that order?" I mused. "Please, Ishara," the woman ground out. "Do not attack Troika of House Šauška." "Very well. I pledge that from this point until the end of this meeting, I will only act against Troika in my own defense," I promised. "Now give me your sidearm." "You may not bear a weapon in Hayden's presence," the SD leader reminded me. "I asked for your weapon, not your legal advice," I insisted. Another shot of bigotry. "I will not. You are not acting rationally," she stated. Troika snorted. That was okay, because I saw an excellent substitute close by. My deviation from the group was so casual, they barely noticed. I wasn't making a fast break to nowhere. I walked up to the wall and, Vranus be praised, yanked one of a pair of matching battle axes off the wall. Support studs went flying. Like all weapons in Havenstone, this one was real. The SD closed ranks, boxing me in. "You may not bear a weapon in Hayden's presence," the SD leader was at the end of her patience with me. "You are incorrect," I glowered. "There are two occasions I may bear a weapon in proximity to the High Priestess. One is in defense of her person. I am not here to defend her." Harder than any kick to the head; they paled then the anger set in. "How dare you?" the SD leader seethed. "The proof of the necessity of my action stands before me right now; an Amazon defying a House, a First Ancestor and a Goddess on her own initiative and in defiance of everything her ancestors fought, bled and died for," I glared. "Give me the axe," the leader insisted. "No. You will have to fight me for it," I made my stand. She was about to do just that when one of the others spoke. Tears were slowly eking a way down that one's cheeks. "Step away from Ishara, or I will kill you," she told her leader. "You are wrong and Ishara is right though it sickens me to admit it." To add to the macabre, one SD trooper aimed at my 'savior' and the fourth aimed at the third. Civil war. "You know what he plans to do," the leader stated. "It is not our place," the second Amazon insisted. "I cannot face my ancestors letting this abomination pass." "He is the abomination," the leader persisted. "No. The abomination is any full-blooded not of the Council deciding what the Council will and will not do. We now know there were once male Amazons. By the will of our ancestors it was so. Never before have we, the elite of the Host, acted as if we knew better than they," the second Amazon said with righteous conviction. "Go," the leader mumbled softly. The woman on the verge of killing her was most likely a close and trusted friend. Grappling with that sudden rift between sisters was occupying her mind at that moment, not my escape. I moved around her, keeping out of the line of fire as best I could and went with Troika to Hayden's portal. I didn't thank the woman. That would have been insulting because what she did, she did for her people and the hundred thousand that had come before her. Finally we rolled out the Old Kingdom Hittite/Amazon. "See what you have done," Troika hissed. I didn't bother to reply. I was sure, dressed in light green scrubs, I cut a valiant and imposing figure. "Cáel Ishara, what took you so;” and then Hayden saw it. For a second, Saint Marie almost cut me off. Katrina stood up. She wanted to stop me. In her mind, Hayden was one of our allies, but, as I had told her, she (Katrina) didn't get it either. Madi, Beyoncé, Fatima and Krasimira were also present and now highly disturbed. "Take yourself to the cliffs," I announced clearly as I dropped the axe on Hayden's desk. She had stood at my final approach and bore hate my way. "The Goddess Ishara rejects you and has taken herself from the Temple. House Ishara has lost faith in you. Your insults are lengthy and I do not feel like wasting any more time with you." "How dare you?" Hayden spat. "All the times I have shielded you and this is how you repay me? You were a mistake from the beginning." "A mistake we can rectify right now," Fatima snarled. She rose up and drew her knife. "Excuse me, but didn't we gather here for a different purpose?" Krasimira mused softly. "Kill him and end the curse," Madi growled. "Oh; in that case can you kill me first?" Krasimira sighed. "I see no need to postpone the continuation of my chat with my mother." At Krasimira's age, her mother was most likely dead. "Krasimira, you cannot defend him!" Fatima wailed. "Defend him? I am not standing in your way, Fatima. I do know that the statue of Ishara fractured and fell into two pieces in the Temple," she related; certainly retelling information they already had. "House by house, we see nothing but the back of those who fought before us. Five of my augurs had shorn their hair and thrown themselves into the fire. I can do nothing except report what I have witnessed. I cannot appeal to Ishara to lift her curse. I hope one of you can because if you can't and you kill her CLEARLY designated heir we shall all go down to ignoble ends," the Keeper of Records remained serenely poised as she delivered her doom-laden news. "By the way, Troika, what happened to your face?" "He stabbed me," Troika burbled. "Let me kill the bastard." I half-turned. Saint Marie interposed herself between the two of us. "Cáel, lift the curse," Saint Marie demanded. "Lift your damn curse," Fatima and Madi chimed in. "Cáel, lift the curse and then we can discuss things," Hayden tried and failed to sound humble. "If every woman in this rooms fatally slits their own throats in the next fifteen seconds, I'll plead to Ishara to lift the curse," I said. There wasn't a headlong rush to commit suicide. The only one so inclined was Krasimira. I motioned her to stop. "Well, I think we are done here. I have to go and try and cobble my life back together. You ladies have fun pulling off your 'Thelma and Louise' final act while I figure out some way for House Ishara to survive the upcoming war," I shrugged. Of course they didn't let me leave. Fatima on one side, the Golden Mare in the middle and Troika on the other. She had to be in a shitload of pain. "Lift the curse. If we are going to war, we need to be whole," Saint Marie urged me. "No." "Why should I stop these two from killing you right now?" she glared. "Because he is an Amazon," Krasimira muttered. "You should need no better reason. Ah; this is why we must die; thank you Cáel Ishara," she concluded. "A terrible sadness has gripped our people for as long as I have been Keeper. I found it lurking in the shadowy corners of my office when I was elevated. I now imagine it haunted my predecessors for some time as well. At least I will pass on knowing the name of our assassin." "The assassin is right here," Fatima spewed her hate at me. "You are correct," Krasimira chuckled. "The assassin is indeed in this room. Its name is Amazon. I need a moment, please." She stood and walked to the doors. What she wanted didn't take long at all. "Gun," we heard her request. The magazine fell to the ground. The sole bullet did not follow. Krasimira walked tenderly into the office as if every step tore like fishhooks at her flesh. "Take yourself to the cliffs, Hayden," Krasimira intoned as the one-shot pistol fell on Hayden's desk. "I no longer know you." Krasimira took in the whole room. "We show anger when we should show humility. We are proud of our shame. We are arrogant of our weaknesses. We have heaped insult upon insult on our ancestors yet are now aghast that they turn away from us," she shook her head. Her gaze settled on Saint Marie. "I am not one warrior alone, but one of a thousand warriors who have fought before me'; isn't that part of the oath of every member of the Security Detail swears?" Katrina fell to her knees. "Please Cáel. Please save us," she begged me. Something was very wrong with that. "How dare you?" Fatima howled at Katrina. Instead of being ashamed, Katrina's supplicant's face turned first into a grim grin, then one of gallows laughter. "And that is why we are all going to die," Katrina declared as she stood once more. "We are too proud to ask a man for help. We know what Ishara's curse is doing to us. You clearly don't care. You would rather die than admit that our damn ANCESTORS have placed a male here and now. Open your eyes!" she nearly screamed. "They sent a MAN for a reason; to open our eyes before we kill ourselves." You scream 'what gives him the right?' Ishara gives him the right. Nothing else matters. What I am asking you is 'what gives you the right to reject Ishara?' because that is what we have done. How could she make her will any more plainly obvious to us? Cáel has never stopped trying to save us and you two want to gut him like a lamb, or (to Saint Marie) break his body. Hayden, I will not place my rejection upon your desk. You have been as much a mother to me as my actual birth-mother. I love you. Since we first met, I have only wanted to make you proud of me and serve your will. What has gone wrong? How have we come to this? You were the one who told me we had to find a way to save our race; and now, when it stares us in the face; Why can't we accept it? How have I failed you, Hayden? What did I do wrong to not prepare you for this moment? It was my duty to keep you informed in all things and I can find nothing to excuse my failure," Katrina had gone from disappointed to heart-broken. Katrina prized herself on being able to stay ahead of any crisis. Here, at her greatest challenge, she hadn't been able to help her friend and mentor survive this calamity. I imagine that was the final blow for Hayden. Katrina had risen up through the Havenstone system as Hayden's protégé and had given Hayden her all. "Until this moment, I have never considered myself a coward," Hayden murmured. "You are blameless Katrina. In the final analysis, I sacrificed my courage for my life. And now I have neither. I can regain my courage here at the end and be true to the duties I was given," Hayden's resolve strengthened with each word. She took out a piece of paper and created a list. "Saint Marie, on this list are traitors to the Host. Gather these Amazons and prepare them to challenge my accusation." Saint Marie stepped forward, took the paper and quickly read it. "Hayden, this includes a third of the Council!" she gasped. "I am well aware of who I have accused. Please see to my final command, old friend," Hayden sighed. I could see a terrible weight lifted from her; the cliffs. "Final;” Saint Marie and Katrina groaned. "Yes. I will dine tonight with my family, then take myself to the cliffs with the dawn. I feel that will be a good end for me," Hayden mused. "Will Ishara forgive me, Cáel?" "No Hayden. It is not her way, but I will. There will be a place in Ishara's halls for you. I pledge you that," I suddenly felt a sorrowful pit in my stomach. Into that romantically tragic scene, Krasimira snorted with amusement. Eyes turned to her. Hayden shook her head, held up a hand to forestall the Keeper until she rounded the desk and left her office for the last time. "Who is on the list?" Fatima stormed up to the Golden Mare and looked over the list. "I am on this. So are you Troika," Fatima growled. "This is insane. We'll destroy Hayden over this; this; piece of filth." "I don't care if I'm on it, or not," Madi seethed. "I'm with you." "There is a small manner of little known law you may wish to be aware of," Krasimira chuckled. "The ruling of an honorably deceased High Priestess may not be challenged." "You two are under arrest," Saint Marie whipped out her pistol. Being with the SD, she was allowed to be fully armed in the High Priestess's presence. "What do you mean?" Fatima looked to Krasimira. "Cáel has killed you all and he didn't even mean to," Krasimira gave a dry chuckle. "By his act of kindness to Hayden, which I now think Hayden was counting on, our former High Priestess goes to an honorable death; taken into the Halls of Ishara in death. Unable to challenge Hayden's decree, you are all going to be executed and your names stricken from the rolls. You will wander aimlessly for all eternity while Hayden will live in the company of her sisters thanks to a man and his love for someone who was clearly his enemy," Krasimira kept snorting at the dark comedy. "Your sole avenue of spiritual survival lies with a man you tried to kill mere moments ago." "This is insane," Troika shouted and came at me. The room exploded with the sonic resonance of a pistol firing. I may have imagined it, but it appeared the bullet took Troika at the juncture of the right eyebrow, nose ridge and right eye. Whatever the entry point, the 45 ACP slug painted the wall behind her with her grey matter. Saint Marie turned quickly on Fatima. "Troika wasn't on the Council, so I could kill her for attempting to murder someone who was. I can't kill you immediately, but please believe I will put a bullet where it hurts if you don't do exactly what I say," the Golden Mare menaced. The debate was truncated by the four Security Detail ladies storming the room. Orders were dispensed and the wheels of Amazon society burst into motion. A side effect of my stunt was I had put Saint Marie in charge until the full Council could meet to create some sort of Regency Council to pilot the ship. There was zip gratitude aimed my way on her part and I didn't blame her one bit. I was headed out before things got too organized. I wanted some 'me' time. "Cáel Ishara, we have not resolved the matter that brought us to this disaster," Saint Marie growled. I was at the door. I looked over my shoulder at the Golden Mare, turned back toward freedom and saw Pamela. "Shoot me," I told Pamela. I was grappling with the horror of what I had just said when I returned to the darkness. MOTHER-FUCKER! I hate women! (Mutter; mutter; mutter) I became aware of my hazy, fugue-like dream state. Sadly, it was familiar and undoubtedly going to become even more familiar while I lived. "Upset with me, Cáel?" she asked. "You had me tell my friend to shoot me; yeah, Ishara, I'm a little cranky right now." "The question was rhetorical. I can read your mind," the Goddess snorted. "What happened to me?" "She bounced a bullet off your skull. You'll be okay. I am the Goddess of Medicine after all," she reminded me. "From an era when trepanning was popular. Color me unimpressed. Oh; and I apologize." "You will get me the fortune cookie next time," she lilted. Something crucial occurred to me. "Hey! I haven't had sex in a week. That hasn't happened to me in four years." "I don't think you are ready for that stage of our relationship yet," she tickled my nose. "Wait; did you just put me in the Friend Zone?" More laughter. "Seriously," I sighed. "Hayden?" "I forgive you," she soothed me. "Forgive me? I killed her. That is not okay. Wasn't; " "No, my Cáel. We are a blood-thirsty society and the ultimate mistakes are answered with the ultimate punishments. I cannot fully express my pride in you for what you did, even in opposition to my will." There was a pause in our relationship and conversation. I thought she sensed my turmoil and aided me in finding some level of peace. With her kind of entity, I would never be sure. "What did Carrig do to me?" I asked. "I don't know." That was not what I expect. Evasion; yes. The ugly truth; no. "I find the concept of an omniscient, omnipotent deity to be self-defeating," she mused. "Sort of negates the whole Free Will thing," I bantered. "Besides, what is the point of beseeching a being that already knows what's going to happen to you and would have saved you if that is what they wanted?" "Yeah," I groaned sarcastically, "I much prefer the divine ones who randomly fuck with your life because they can, rarely provide useful information and won't even put out on the second date." "I know this will cause you pain yet I will say it anyway; I love you." Yeah; I was suddenly wishing Pamela had missed and hit me between the eyes. "Very well, what can I do for you that would make you happier?" Inside of second. "Clever boy. Are you sure?" "Yes." "Done. I can no longer read your mind." A few seconds passed. "This is annoying. Is this what it is like dealing with me; this 'not knowing'?" "Yes and you proved it by the way," I murmured. Several more seconds. "This is really annoying me. Pick something else." Pause. "What does it prove?" "You love me," I grinned. "Love without freedom is illusionary. Freedom of thought is the basis of hope and hope drives all endeavors." A long pause. I was a bit curious about what was happening to my body. "Please." "No." "I could give you a divine gift; speak in tongues; regeneration; long life?" "Nope. Not happening." "I still love you." "Now I can say I love you and know I mean it." "That's unfair; clever and insightful, but unfair," she teased me. "What about the curse?" "Re-forge my statue at the Temple and the curse will be lifted. Be your regular creative self when you do so." Pause; divine sigh. "I need to send you back now. Oh, and make love to the first woman you see. It is important." "What? Why is it im;” and I felt the weight of my body and the throbbing of my temple. (Augurs don'ts and don't give a fuck abouts) I didn't want to open my eyes; really, truly, deeply. I had been dared by both guys and girls to pick up a certain female at a variety of events, even when they came with company. I'd done it because I'm that kind of low-life. Being pre-ordained to sleep with some chick felt wrong to me. It was cheating. I sincerely wished she hadn't been touching my face. Yes, someone was running their slender, feminine fingers over my forehead, eyebrows, eyelids, nose; yadda. "Ishara, I must speak with you," the strange woman implored. My eye movement had given my wakefulness away. I pried open my lids and looked up into the face of a living ghost. Her skin was albino pale with obvious veins and blue capillaries beneath the surface. Her ocular orbs were a deep milky white, with a tinge of light blue. I could barely make out the pupils. Her hair was whiter than Pamela's. From the structure and musculature of her hands and face; it was as if a perfectly healthy human woman's body was in a constant frantic battle against death. My senses expanded to embrace more of my resting place. I was in Katrina's office on the sofa. Katrina was not present. Buffy, the 'senior', Pamela, Rachel, Krasimira, the super-pale chick and two House Guard I didn't recognize were nearby. Despite my head throbbing to the beat of fiendish jackhammers, I managed to sit up. This upset the lady touching me as my movement broke our contact. "Ishara?" she pleaded. "That's it. From now on its Yakko Ishara, Wakko Ishara and Dot Ishara. Let's end all of this confusion over this 'which Ishara are we really wanting to talk to?' bullshit. So, what do you want?" I groaned. "I'm claiming the 'Yakko' spot, by the way." "Ishara?" she pleaded again. Was she protesting me taking the oldest Warner brothers' spot? Yeah, I was the youngest one of the pseudo-divine trio, but I absolutely owned the role of smart-alec. "She is an Augur," Krasimira explained. "The poisons she takes to put her in a receptive state to the ancestors, goddesses and the spiritual currents of the universe leave her blind and deaf to the mortal world. She communicates normally, but needs to be touching your lips to know what you are saying. Her name is Tadêfi and she has a message for you," she finished. "Give me a sec," I put my thoughts together despite my pain. Buffy shoved a glass of water and three pills my way. I downed them gratefully. Buffy was clearly distressed. I was getting the crap kicked out of me a lot and, in theory, it was her job to stop such things from happening. "Buffy, we couldn't have foreseen Carrig coming after me the way he did. He slipped through the seams of very good security," I tried to comfort her. "Pamela shot me on the Goddess/Dot Ishara's orders. She can only communicate with me when I'm in a near-death state," I said. "I have a new mission for you." I needed to keep her mind busy with things other than me. Buffy was action-oriented and I was giving her a doozy of a task. "Obtain at least five of the bullet casings from the battle that took my Father's life. Give them to Krasimira. They are to be melted down with the original statue and recast into a new symbol of the Goddess. We will be a melding of the old and the new," I ordered. Yes, I was sacrificing a priceless ancient artifact for a current political agenda. I'm reprehensible. Kimberly would be ashamed. "Now, who were the women whose names I gave you?" "They are all deceased 'Runners', Ishara," the senior told me. Oh; that made sense. "Tomorrow we induct them into House Ishara," I stated. "Ishara, they are dead," senior repeated. "Do you believe the souls of Amazons go to the houses of their ancestors after dying?" I posed. That took a few seconds to soak in. My almost albino was getting truly distressed so I took her hand and put it on my lips as I asked the latest question. "Oh;” the senior and Buffy both muttered. "All those 'Runners'; their spirits wander aimlessly for eternity bereft of companionship and a place to call home," I told them. "That is a crime," I continued. "Even as Ishara moves forward, we must be honest about our past. Those women earned a place in the Host. They were unduly denied their promised afterlife and we will start rectifying that tomorrow." Their looks broadcast their interpretation of my declaration: I was a wonderful child who had won first place for our team at the State Fair. Now that she was back in the communication loop, the augur calmed down. "You have a message for me?" I 'asked' her. Halfway through, I stopped enunciating. "Yes, Ishara. My dead sister stepped back through the flames and told me you;” she began. "No; stop," I told her. "Everyone leave." They honored my wishes and departed except; "What are you still doing here?" I asked the House Guard who remained. Now that I had a chance to study her, I realized she bore the same cuneiform designation as Krasimira. "I am her guardian. I am always at her side," the woman explained rather heatedly. She was certainly not a fan of the man in mankind. "By all means; have it your way. Augur, your message is unimportant. Write it down and have it sent out as a memo for everyone in Havenstone to read. Someone may tell me about it. I'm horrible with my e-mail, so I probably won't read it myself," I growled. This shit stopped now. I stood and made to leave. The augur swatted out and grabbed my arm when she hit it. "Ishara, you must;” and I lightly slapped her face. The guardian drew down on me. "How dare you?" the guardian seethed. "I am thinking the same thing; 'how dare you?'" I rumbled. "How dare you decide what messages she does, or does not, deliver?" "Tadêfi has something important to tell you," the guardian growled. "Augurs died to bring you this message." "Clearly the message isn't important enough for you to leave the room," I countered. "I took bullet to the head so I could talk to the Goddess Dot Ishara." I was going to enjoy calling my matron pain-in-the-cranium that. She was probably less amused. "I'm about out of patience with you smug, delusionary superior sluts demanding things from me as if you weren't my underlings," I glared. "Get with the program, or get out." Though I had told her to get out, I was the one leaving. I needed clothes, a shave and a chance to get my bearings. I didn't need those two. Tadêfi tried to speak again. I put my hand to her lips to stop her again then raised her hands to my lips. "I do not want to hear what you have to say," I related. "If you try to tell me what you have been told, I will purposely ignore it and cut out your tongue for your insolence. Your sisters died in vain because your guardian has decided what you say is not worth her leaving the room for us to talk in private. Sleep well with the dying screams of your sisters' agonies echoing in your mind and know your fellow Amazons have wished this fate upon you. Good-bye." "How; augurs are sacrosanct and their messages are rare and crucial to the Host," the guardian sputtered. "Didn't know, don't care and could care less what you think is crucial for the Host," I sighed as I started walking away. "What is happening?" the augur wailed. "Her visions are lacerations on her soul," the guardian howled. "Does her pain mean nothing to you?" Those two had to be incredibly tight, the guardian watching the augur scarred and worn down by the task she had been chosen for; and not being able to help. "Not enough to keep me here," I answered at the door. "She's your buddy, not mine and I have a plateful of unhappiness already set before me." I opened the door. "Is there a problem?" Krasimira inquired as I stepped out. She had a guardian too. Pamela was also close by and strategically placed to dispose of said guardian. "Her bodyguard told me to ignore Tadêfi, so I am," I muttered. I hurt. The pain-killers had yet to kick in; and I'd just come out of a coma. Fuck'em. If Ishara wanted me to nail that girl, she was going to have to step up on her level of assistance aimed my way. I accepted that she had her limitations, but so did I. "Cáel Ishara, is that precisely what she said?" the Keeper was being diplomatic. "No; what do I call you?" "Krasimira, Cáel," she answered. "I do not believe it was Tadêfi's intent to be ignored. May I mediate?" "No," I replied. "I will talk with Tadêfi alone, or not at all. Quite frankly, half the time you women open your mouths, I want to kick you off the roof of this building. Either I see some damn humility; your words, Krasimira; or I carry on the Amazon tradition with Ishara and her legion of former 'Runners' while the rest of you are throttled by your pride." Do note that the Executive Services floor was very active and several members heard my statement loud and clear. "May we please try this meeting one more time?" she requested. Her bodyguard nearly choked on Krasimira's gentle, conciliatory tone. "I could not consider myself an Amazon and deny the Keeper's suggestion on this matter. Let's give it one more shot," I conceded. All I was asking for was 'nice'. I wasn't deluded into thinking Krasimira was suddenly my fan. She was simply acting on the enlightenment that her ancestors and goddesses had revealed. We headed back into Katrina's office. As with any divine direction, she knew she had two choices; harm, or heal. She had accepted responsibility that to heal her people, the spirits had chosen a male. Liking me had nothing to do with it. Being true to her oaths and nature as an Amazon were the acting forces here. Amazons survived, first and foremost. They feared nothing, not even change. Her fellows had denied the need for change based solely on pride and Krasimira recognized that now. Back in Katrina's office, the guardian was trying to calm her nearly hysterical charge. I would have been much happier if we had been more alone. The room had become crowded with ghosts during my short absence. Krasimira, who was following, bumped into me. "Ishara?" she whispered. As unfortunate as that was, Tadêfi's blind eyes following the fixed stares of all the ghosts in my direction was worse. I squeezed my brain for an appropriate bit of trivia that would put my depression on its ass. There was this movie by M. Night Shakalaka-ding dong (or something like that) about a boy who saw dead people. The hero; the man trying to help the boy; he turned out to be a ghost as well who didn't figure that out until the end of the flick. But, it got better. Using the numerous ghostly gazes like searchlights pinning down an escaping convict, Tadêfi ran right into my arms. That was a pretty remarkable feat; a blind girl in an unfamiliar room covering four meters flawlessly. But, it kept getting better. All the ghosts started to yammer, clambering for attention. Tadêfi began to weep piteously. I had to wonder if this was Ishara's penalty for keeping my mind free of her meddling. No one else seemed to understand what the fuck was going on. Krasimira was the augur wrangler, not in tune with the spirits herself. She was also the Supreme Litigator, which necessitated her being able to interact with the mortal world on a constant basis, so I couldn't hold her lack of spiritual mojo against her. My instincts were telling me that screaming and yelling was pointless. The cacophony was incredibly vexing, but I could deal. Tadêfi couldn't. I was looking at this dilemma from the wrong angle. Instead of taking on the hundreds, I would take on the one. I placed one of the augur's hands on my lips then placed my hands over her ears. My hope was that since I could interact with the restless dead, my flesh could act as a buffer to their insistent beseeching of us for recognition of their numerous appeals. My first song was one of the melodies sung to me by Oneida's kin while I fought off her Death Pledge. Bit by bit, a tiny fraction followed by the greater whole, I pulled Tadêfi back from the brink of insanity. Eventually, she began mumbling a different refrain into my chest. "My ears work better than my lip-reading," I chided her playfully. The ghosts hadn't stopped their pleas for attention. It was the sonic and tactile sensation of my song upon her fingers and the fluctuation of my lungs in pushing forth the music that allowed her to focus on her mortal coil. As we sang together, eventually with her teaching me a few new ballads, we shut the world out. Once our shared reality collapsed down to just the two of us, the babble diminished then finally faded away. "May I relay my message now?" Tadêfi requested. "No, we have to have sex first," I replied. Whoops; shit-storm. What followed was a blur. "I can't have sex," Tadêfi murmured. "The touch of a man would corrupt me." Plus. "She is an augur," her guardian declared firmly. "She must remain a virgin." Plus. "Cáel Ishara, augurs cannot be;” Krasimira's tongue became tied. "You go, Tiger," Pamela tossed out there. "Tadêfi, where are you right now?" I began my rotation of responses. "Why does she have to be a virgin? And, thanks Pamela. That was less helpful than normal." "I aim to disappoint, Cheetah," Pamela smirked. I couldn't see her face, but I knew she was. She; Tarzan. Me; Cheetah, the Immortal baby chimpanzee. Just what I needed. "It is the law," the guardian moved to separate us. "She must not be touched by a man," Krasimira stated. "Not having intercourse is implied. If she has been corrupted, why did the spirits continue to surround her after Cáel's touch?" "Keeper, this cannot be allowed," the guardian changed her focus. "I agree in that this is your choice to make," Krasimira countered. "Without knowing the missive, you must decide what your charge may, and may not, do. Your oath is to her personally, not to me or any other entity. Consider what the task of guardian truly is before deciding." The convoluted decision: what was the chief duty of a guardian; the message, or the messenger? The augur could convey urgency yet was powerless to act without the guardian's permission. She had to trust her guardian with the basics of life. The guardian; she had to trust what could not be sensed, or even fully understood. "Why; why this condition?" the guardian returned her gaze to me. I could have been a dick. "Dot Ishara told me to have intercourse with the first woman I saw when I woke up," I said. "If you hurt her, I will kill you," the Amazon threatened. "First off, Tadêfi, would you like to fool around?" I might want to get my potential sex partners permission before proceeding. You know; not be a rapist. "I don't know what you want, but if this is what we must do," Tadêfi acquiesced. "First time sex is going to be painful, so be prepared," I cautioned both young women. "If you;” the guardian repeated her threat. "Cáel, you should give daily thanks I don't leave a trail of dead bodies everywhere you go," Pamela declared with malicious menace. "So many pretentious bitches; I tell you, my ability to tolerate your forgiving nature is being sorely tested, damn it." Wow, was that totally ass-backwards, or what? As a side note to life: I was going to receive a serious beat-down the second my sexual tryst ended. Two pernicious women: Buffy; I had been damaged by someone who wasn't her. There was no way she'd forgive me for that. And Pamela; I had sent Estere away to escort Libra instead of keeping the assassin close. Without a doubt, I had taken Pamela away from some odious errand conducted on my behalf, yet without my knowledge. Yes, some serious torment was headed my way. Back to the girl at hand. Back to being the 'me' I wanted to be. Oink! With torturous reluctance, the guardian made to leave. "Wait," I called out. "You can stay if you join us." Yes, I was angling for a three-way with a women who wanted to make line drives with a five iron using my nuts for golf balls; and the blind and deaf girl. I couldn

I don't care what political party you are, why is USA starting wars that can't be won? Nuclear war leaves no planet for your grandchildren. Russia has 5580 nukes. USA 5428. 36 times stronger than Nagasaki bomb We Americans need to mind our own business & fix our own country - roads, bridges, farms Never start a land war in Asia!See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

We Americans may indeed be "rich" in material terms, but we suffer from what Mother Teresa calls a poverty of spirit. As we chased economic growth we closed ourselves off. We abandoned interconnectedness with other people, beings, and things. We also abandoned ourselves.   Many of the problems in our world today are visual manifestations of such abandonment. If the world isn't looking the way you want it to look right now, author Jeff Golden argues that solving our (numerous) issues starts by healing our culture-wide poverty of spirit.     Here's a preview:   [4:00] Money doesn't make us happy, and the extent to which we strive for stuff is a manifestation of how unhappy we actually are inside   [8:00] How we feel about ourselves impacts how we show up in the world. How we treat others! Whether we regard other beings with love and respect!   [16:00] Exactly why healing our world (and ourselves!) may indeed start by getting out of our heads   [32:00] Debunking heady intellectual conversations about the importance of the economy, plus: a laundry list of the ways we use stuff as stand-ins for well-being   [38:00] Tangible ways to "drop into yourself" (because you and others deserve it!)     Resources mentioned: Episode #478: Charting A Rich Life Reclaiming the Sacred: Healing Our Relationships with Ourselves and the World Thank you to Wild for sponsoring this week's episode! Use code SUSTAINABLE20 for 20% off. https://www.wearewild.com/us/?discount=SUSTAINABLE20   This show is listener-supported. Thank you for supporting it! Join our (free!) Facebook community here. Find your tribe. Sustainable Minimalists are on Facebook, Instagram + Youtube @sustainableminimalists Say hello! MamaMinimalistBoston@gmail.com.   Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

We Americans may indeed be "rich" in material terms, but we suffer from what Mother Teresa calls a poverty of spirit. As we chased economic growth we closed ourselves off. We abandoned interconnectedness with other people, beings, and things. We also abandoned ourselves. Many of the problems in our world today are visual manifestations of such abandonment. If the world isn't looking the way you want it to look right now, author Jeff Golden argues that solving our (numerous) issues starts by healing our culture-wide poverty of spirit.  Here's a preview: [4:00] Money doesn't make us happy, and the extent to which we strive for stuff is a manifestation of how unhappy we actually are inside [8:00] How we feel about ourselves impacts how we show up in the world. How we treat others! Whether we regard other beings with love and respect! [16:00] Exactly why healing our world (and ourselves!) may indeed start by getting out of our heads [32:00] Debunking heady intellectual conversations about the importance of the economy, plus: a laundry list of the ways we use stuff as stand-ins for well-being [38:00] Tangible ways to "drop into yourself" (because you and others deserve it!)  Resources mentioned: Episode #478: Charting A Rich Life Reclaiming the Sacred: Healing Our Relationships with Ourselves and the World Thank you to Wild for sponsoring this week's episode! Use code SUSTAINABLE20 for 20% off. https://www.wearewild.com/us/?discount=SUSTAINABLE20   This show is listener-supported. Thank you for supporting it! Join our (free!) Facebook community here. Find your tribe. Sustainable Minimalists are on Facebook, Instagram + Youtube @sustainableminimalists Say hello! MamaMinimalistBoston@gmail.com.  

Cáel's tombstone: For the love of women, women put him here.In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand.Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected..

On October 21 in Washington, DC, Wisdom of Crowds hosted a special live taping of the podcast. WoC editor-at-large Samuel Kimbriel joined WoC contributor and New Republic journalist Osita Nwanevu, along with Georgetown political theory professor Joshua Mitchell, to discuss “Happiness and Misery in America” on the eve of the general elections. Joshua spoke from a more communitarian and conservative point of view, citing the drawbacks that come with the growth of the state: “When you have a regime founded on small government and mediating institutions, you have to develop personal and collective competence. … Early on, happiness is linked to competence and to doing. But as the state has grown larger, and more and more the functions of living have been left up to the state, we've become more isolated and we come to think of happiness more as feeling and self-expression.” Osita spoke from a left-liberal perspective. It might be less the case that we are unhappy, he argued, than that we think we ought to be unhappy, given the way life is structured today. “We think that Americans should be less happy than they are. If you think that Americans should be less happy, because they use smart phones a lot, then you should own that. … Liberals always are in the business of saying less than they actually mean. The pursuit of happiness is not just material well-being … happiness for the Founders … also meant moral and spiritual well-being.”This was a robust and rich clash of perspectives that generated much more light than heat. Osita cautioned against romanticizing the old America of traditional communities, arguing that the “freedom to seek what the good life is, without having it given to you by father or pastor, is an important part of what American civilization is.” Joshua agreed that sometimes the state has to intervene in local communities for the sake of justice — for example, to desegregate the schools in Little Rock — but he also cautioned that we will never be fully satisfied without some “concreteness of embodied relations with others. … We [Americans] are all cowboys … the rest of the world can't believe the level of unboundedness we live with.”Free for all subscribers, this is a valuable and — crucially during this moment — civil conversation that will be interesting to anyone who cares about the soul of America. Give it a listen. Required Reading:* Joshua Mitchell (Georgetown faculty webpage). * Osita Nwanevu (personal website). * Surgeon General's Advisory on Loneliness Epidemic (Department of Health and Human Services). * Declaration of Independence (National Archives). * Democracy in America by Alexis de Tocqueville (Amazon). * Friendship as Sacred Knowing: Overcoming Isolation by Samuel Kimbriel (Amazon).This post is part of our collaboration with the University of Pittsburgh's Center for Governance and Markets.Wisdom of Crowds is a platform challenging premises and understanding first principles on politics and culture. Join us! This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wisdomofcrowds.live/subscribe

WE AMERICANS have no idea of what it's like to live under constant threat of missile attack, but that's a fact of life for Israelis. Adam Eliyahu Berkowitz, senior reporter for Israel365News.com, joins us via video from his home in Katzrin on the Golan Heights to discuss the current situation in Israel, the impact of recent conflicts, and the political dynamics at play. Adam shares his insights on the future of Israel and its allies, emphasizing the prophetic significance of the events unfolding in the region, and describes the impact of being forced to live within 30 seconds of a bomb shelter. We also discuss the ritual of the red heifer described in Numbers chapter 19 and how it's been misunderstood by Christians. Yes, the red heifers are at Shiloh and they are of age, but there are other critical requirements that must be met before the ritual purification of the Temple Mount can be accomplished.

WE AMERICANS have no idea of what it's like to live under constant threat of missile attack, but that's a fact of life for Israelis. Adam Eliyahu Berkowitz, senior reporter for Israel365News.com, joins us via video from his home in Katzrin on the Golan Heights to discuss the current situation in Israel, the impact of recent conflicts, and the political dynamics at play. Adam shares his insights on the future of Israel and its allies, emphasizing the prophetic significance of the events unfolding in the region, and describes the impact of being forced to live within 30 seconds of a bomb shelter. We also discuss the ritual of the red heifer described in Numbers chapter 19 and how it's been misunderstood by Christians. Yes, the red heifers are at Shiloh and they are of age, but there are other critical requirements that must be met before the ritual purification of the Temple Mount can be accomplished. Our new book The Gates of Hell is now available in paperback, Kindle, and as an audiobook at Audible! Follow us! • X: @viewfrombunker | @sharonkgilbert | @derekgilbert• Telegram: t.me/gilberthouse• YouTube: @GilbertHouse | @UnravelingRevelation• Facebook.com/viewfromthebunker Sharon's novels Winds of Evil and The Armageddon Strain are available now in paperback, ebook (Kindle), and audiobook (Audible) formats! Get signed copies of the first two books of The Laodicea Chronicles now at GilbertHouse.org/store! Thank you for making our Build Barn Better project a reality! The building has HVAC, a new floor, windows, insulation, ceiling fans, and an upgraded electrical system! We're in the process of moving our studios and book/DVD warehouse and shipping office out of our home and across the yard into the Barn. If you are so led, you can help out at www.GilbertHouse.org/donate. —— Download our free app! This brings all of our content directly to your smartphone or tablet. Best of all, we'll never get canceled from our own app! Links to the app stores for iOS, iPadOS, Android, and Amazon Kindle Fire devices are at www.GilbertHouse.org/app. Please join us each Sunday for the Gilbert House Fellowship, our weekly Bible study podcast. Log on to www.GilbertHouse.org for more details. Check out our weekly video program Unraveling Revelation (unravelingrevelation.tv), and subscribe to the YouTube channel: YouTube.com/UnravelingRevelation. —— Special offers on our books and DVDs: www.gilberthouse.org/store. —— JOIN US IN ISRAEL! Our 2025 tour features special guests Timothy Alberino, Dr. Judd Burton, and Doug Van Dorn! We will tour the Holy Land March 25–April 3, 2025, with an optional three-day extension in Jordan. For more information, log on to GilbertHouse.org/travel. PLEASE NOTE: Due to security concerns in the Middle East, we have decided to cancel our planned Solidarity Mission to Israel in November. Discuss these topics at the VFTB Facebook page (facebook.com/viewfromthebunker) and check out the great podcasters at the Fringe Radio Network (Spreaker.com/show/fringe-radio-network)!

WE AMERICANS have no idea of what it's like to live under constant threat of missile attack, but that's a fact of life for Israelis.Adam Eliyahu Berkowitz, senior reporter for Israel365News.com, joins us via video from his home in Katzrin on the Golan Heights to discuss the current situation in Israel, the impact of recent conflicts, and the political dynamics at play. Adam shares his insights on the future of Israel and its allies, emphasizing the prophetic significance of the events unfolding in the region, and describes the impact of being forced to live within 30 seconds of a bomb shelter.We also discuss the ritual of the red heifer described in Numbers chapter 19 and how it's been misunderstood by Christians. Yes, the red heifers are at Shiloh and they are of age, but there are other critical requirements that must be met before the ritual purification of the Temple Mount can be accomplished.Our new book The Gates of Hell is now available in paperback, Kindle, and as an audiobook at Audible!

OWE NO MAN NOTHING!So says the scripture. Good advice, not only spiritual wisdom, but secular as well. Debt, unrepayable, with its pressure and tension, ruins everyone and everything.That makes reference to debt which cannot be repaid in the normal course of business or living. Tens of millions would never own a home, or a car, or be able to afford the extreme cost of education today unless reasonable financing was accomplished. Scripture means don't incur debt you can't repay in the normal course of living and in the present.But, my fellow Americans, we have a debt which we know little about, and which only increases daily, and which cannot be repaid in the normal course of living. That debt is the American Federal Government debt which now exceeds the unfathomable sum of, are you ready for this:$35 TRILLION DOLLARS.Not millions, not even billions, but now TRILLIONS of debt dollars, owed by Uncle Sam, that is by:YOU AND ME.That means, says one economist and accountant, that you and I, American citizens who elect and foster the decision making of this federal government owe the unbelievable sum of, are you ready for this:$100 THOUSAND DOLLARS.$100,000! And if we think that is a problem, that number only increases daily, hourly, for this DEMOCRAT GOVERNMENT, the Biden Administration, just loves to spend your and my money and of course without ever asking.Biden Administration officials now spend and increase this American debt number by:ONE TRILLION DOLLARS EVERY ONE HUNDRED DAYS.That, my fellow Americans, my freedom-loving, freedom-from-debt-loving Americans, is an absolutely staggering financial fact and it is absolutely stunning that such a debt, this unbelievably high number is accepted, if it is even understood, by you and me. WHY?And another absolutely stunning fact. WE THE PEOPLE must now pay one trillion dollars per year, ONE TRILLION DOLLARS PER YEAR just for interest alone on that debt. ONE TRILLION DOLLARS EVERY YEAR JUST FOR INTEREST ALONE AND THAT NUMBER GROWS EVERY DAY! That interest payment alone is more than we spend as a nation on DEFENSE. It is more than we spend on the ever-declining American infrastructure. One Trillion Dollars in interest is more than WE THE PEOPLE spend on Education and more than we spend on poverty programs. It is the worst kind of debt, really unpayable unless there are mammoth and massive new taxes put in place, and the world at large comes calling for the repayment of that debt, demanding that each American citizen pay the one hundred thousand dollars each would owe if the debt were to be repaid. How in the world did we the people ever let our country, our profligate Federal Government ever get to this point, HOW?President Bill Clinton knew that we had to deal with this big long-term debt problem, but he and his administration did nothing about it. President Barack Hussein Obama knew such fiscal policy was “irresponsible” but did nothing about it. President Donald J. Trump said we've got to get rid of this long-term American debt, but he as well did nothing about it. Then comes President Joe Biden, a man given to the lie whenever expedient, and he tells the American people one of the largest lies he has ever told:“WE LITERALLY CUT THE FEDERAL DEBT IN HALF.”And no one, especially his supporters, liberal, woke, radical media cohorts ever challenged one of the greatest and largest lies ever told by any American President. Not only was the American budget not cut in half, but it was and is increased by one trillion dollars every one hundred days, President Biden! We Americans don't need nuclear warfare with Russia or China or any other nation to destroy us, we have become expert at:SELF DESTRUCTION – FINANCIAL SELF DESTRUCTION!Small wonder we have had the inflation problems so recently experienced, in the last four Biden years, where the prices of everything have risen dramatically. We are on the verge as a country, of what is known as hyperinflation, an economy out of control, and a nation virtually bankrupt. It was that very hyperinflation which destroyed Germany, the German economy after World War I and produced perhaps the most evil man in all of human history, Adolf Hitler as dictator, promising to solve the hyperinflation problem and restore Germany to its former greatness. Many think there is some possibility that such a thing could happen in America at some time in the future, the end of course of our great nation and our even greater democracy.No problem says Biden. We will just tax the rich, the wealthy even more. We will get what we need to manage the debt in the present (not reduce it) from the American rich. That of course, as Biden and his cronies well know, is an absolute impossibility. The Federal Government could confiscate all the wealth, all the assets held by the wealthiest Americans, whoever they are and however many of them there are, and this profligate American debt would never, ever be extinguished or repaid. We are, my fellow Americans, a nation painfully out of financial control and you and I, YOU AND I, are responsible for letting that happen.In ten short years, or realistically even sooner, the debt held by the American public will reach the staggering sum of:$50 TRILLION DOLLARS.If so, that staggering number would represent 136%, 136% of the entire American economy. Our nation would be beyond hyperinflation and would be utterly destroyed financially. Why, my fellow Americans, do our elected officials, our politicians with their heads in the sand, never acknowledge or deal with these problems, why?This ever increasing debt produces ever increasing interest payment demands, and the payment of interest alone will be one of the most destructive factors ever in the American economy. This profligate Federal Government (Biden) spending will destroy our country, utterly destroy it. Our elected officials, our politicians do not seem to really view these critical and crucial financial matters as real problems, and it matters not whether the politician is Democrat, Republican, Libertarian, Independent, or whatever. NO ELECTED WASHINGTON-FEDERAL GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL HAS THE COURAGE TO DEAL WITH THE GREATEST PROBLEM AMERICA HAS EVER FACED!WE THE PEOPLE know that and we do nothing about it, NOTHING! WHY?America, the republic, the democracy, is on a path to self-destruct. It will soon be another post-World War I Germany, where hyperinflation destroys the lives, the lifestyle, and the economy of millions upon millions of people. But it seems as though WE THE PEOPLE remain indifferent. We do nothing. We lack courage or demand. We elect and forget. We vote every four years or sooner, and get back to the good life, all the while our beloved America is economically destroyed. Like Nero of old, he fiddles on a balcony while Rome burns, while Rome is destroyed. We just simply don't seem to care. God help our children and grandchildren, and those young yet to come, for them there will be no America, no nation even close to what we know and in which we have lived.Instead of owing no man or anyone nothing, WE THE PEOPLE will owe everything we have and that debt will be the end of everything.

We Americans have had Love American Style. We've had a Love Boat. We had a Love Story. And 24 years ago we got Love and Basketball. Now the boys see if it still works. Links You can rate and review us in these places (and more, probably) Does This Still Work? - TV Podcast https://www.podchaser.com/podcasts/does-this-still-work-1088105 ‎Does This Still Work? on Apple Podcasts https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/does-this-still-work/id1492570867 Los Angeles Lakers https://www.newspapers.com/article/the-signal/148957599/ Weddings https://abcnews.go.com/Entertainment/story?id=103506&page=1 https://www.newspapers.com/article/the-sacramento-bee/148960470/ http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/scotland/1083120.stm UK Wife Carrying Race https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Tekg7RmymQ  

Welcome to the Gospel Rant. Hebrews assumes that we Christians are, in spite of what we say, here still on planet earth for a reason only secondarily for our own success and well-being. Face it, heaven would be so much better. No we have a grand celestial eternal purpose, modeled by Jesus and Moses. We are here to be part of the salvation story of others. We don't redeem anyone. But somehow, what we do, and how we do it proclaims salvation to them. That's the good news. The bad news is that like Jesus and Moses, and Israel in the wilderness, that goal may only be achieved through our persecution, suffering and even harm. I don't like it much either. It is the big theme of Hebrews. Humanly speaking, you will shudder in fear and rather stay in your tents in the wilderness. No judgement. But you, sons and daughters of God can ask for power, through the Spirit in your inner being to access heaven-born faith (willingness to be led into temptation, confidence in God, boldness) and heaven-born righteousness (caring for others over self) so that like Jesus and Moses and at least two Jews in the wilderness, you will do it—in order to rescue and save others. We Americans hate this plan. But the template is Jesus, who willingly suffered and died and many children were saved. At one point you said, “Father, wherever you lead I will follow.” OK, he's taking you seriously—because he loves you as much as the father loves the son and the son loves the father. But don't expect life to be a rose garden. And he has something to prepare you for the struggle. You don't naturally have it. Curious? Welcome to Gospel Rant and God's Love for the Unlovable.Support The Show: https://www.gospelrant.com/ Discover more Christian podcasts at lifeaudio.com and inquire about advertising opportunities at lifeaudio.com/contact-us.

Hebrews assumes that we Christians are, in spite of what we might say, afraid of death. It's a brain thing. To accomplish God's high Kingdom goals—meaning salvation for others, He requires and even ordains the testing, trials, suffering, loss, and sometimes even death of his beloved children—in order to rescue and save others. We Americans might hate this plan. But the template is Jesus, who willingly suffered and died and many children were saved. At one point you said, “Father, wherever you lead I will follow.” OK, he's taking you seriously—because he loves you as much as the Father loves the Son and the Son loves the Father. But don't expect life to be a rose garden. And he has something to prepare you for the struggle. You don't naturally have it. Curious? Welcome to Gospel Rant.Support The Show: https://www.gospelrant.com/ Discover more Christian podcasts at lifeaudio.com and inquire about advertising opportunities at lifeaudio.com/contact-us.

#1,010 - Lynne Patton Lynne Patton joins The Paul Leslie Hour! We Americans find ourselves living at an extraordinary time. One person who may agree with that assessment is today's guest Lynne Patton. Lynne Pattons is a Senior Advisor to the 45th President — Donald J. Trump. She was also listed among Newsmax's Most Influential Black Republicans. We're honored to have her. And real quick ladies and gentlemen, if you like this interview please consider sharing or posting it wherever you can. Oh and won't you subscribe to Paul Leslie's YouTube channel? And with that ladies and gentlemen, let's start this episode. Yes. Let's listen. Together. The Paul Leslie Hour is a talk show dedicated to “Helping People Tell Their Stories.” Some of the most iconic people of all time drop in to chat. Frequent topics include Arts, Entertainment and Culture.

What does the Bible say about work and rest? Let's face it, We Americans fall into one of two camps. We Overwork and under rest or we over rest and under work. This week we're taking a look at the problem of overwork and business and how God instructs us to take a day for worshipful rest. __________ If you're new let us know in the comments/chat & visit https://www.covenantdoylestown.org to learn more about us and how you can get connected. If you would like to be prayed for, you can submit a prayer request here: https://covenantdoylestown.org/prayer/ __________ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/covenantchurchdoylestown Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/covenantdoylestown 4000 Route 202, Doylestown, PA #churchonline #church #sermon

Aldi Hwy 5 Chardonnay 2021- $4.99-Drink Like The French, No!, I am Serious!I recently talked to a French winemaker that the average French family spent about 5 dollars on their daily bottle of wine. They drink wine with the meal, not at night as an alcoholic beverage.We Americans, as a whole, have a different attitude toward wine.So, is this 5-buck Aldi wine a food wine?For all the info check out https://cheapwinefinder.com/ and listen to the best value-priced wine PODCAST on the planet!Check us out at www.cheapwinefinder.comor email us at podcast@cheapwinefinder.com

We Americans love our rights. We talk about them, we demand them. It's woven into the fabric of who we are. But as Christians, we need to be aware that relinquishing our personal rights is essential to living in obedience to Jesus. As we approach the end of 2023 and start thinking about 2024, ask yourself – what are the things you are holding onto that hinder you. Do you make deals with God? As the saying goes, if Jesus isn't Lord of all, then he's not Lord at all.Learn more about this topic in Chapter 2 of A Discipleship Journey: A Proven and Practical Tool for Making Disciples available at Lionshare.org/store.  The National Disciple Making Forum takes place May 1-2 in Indianapolis.  You can learn more about it and register at Discipleship.org. When available, episode notes are at Lionshare.org/podcast. Learn more about Lionshare's ministry at Lionshare.org Purchase books on discipleship and subscribe to teaching videos at Lionshare.org/store Download the Lionshare Leadership Group app for free video devotionals.

Frank Roberson PI “Raising Expectations!” Friends, we are excited to have our good friend and Protection Specialist Frank Roberson back with us this Monday night! Since he is part of our family, you may remember Frank is an Executive Protection Agent, Counter-intelligence Threat Specialist and Private Investigator. With all that is happening in the Middle East War, demonstrations in the streets and college campuses…we are now anticipating family Christmas shopping, traditions and all that means in the coming weeks! How important it is to remind and appraise all Americans to think and plan ahead with your families. What if something happens in a mall… what should we be cognizant of and share specifically with those we love! We Americans just seem to be oblivious most of the time to very clear potential danger. Perhaps family meetings and actual discussions would be beneficial and also show how much we love them! You won't want to miss hearing from Frank Roberson and the discussion we will have. *Remember friends to tune in, watch, listen and text comments live. LIVE - Monday 6:00pm Pacific 8:00pm Central 9:00pm Eastern BBSRadio.com/RaisingExpectations Facebook YouTube LinkedIn X Pastor Joe: Joe Schofield Dr. Paul: Paul Hall Stef: Stefanie Shaw Thayer Dr. Craig: Craig Tank Thayer Pastor Ron: Ron Greer

We Americans don't usually think much of titles. In fact, this disdain was written into our Constitution, where Article I, Section 9, Clause 9 states, “No Title of Nobility shall be granted by the United States.” Not only that, but any government official must get the permission of Congress before accepting one from a foreign king. So, we tend to turn a deaf ear to titles like marquis, duke or knight. We have a few titles for current and former office holders. We allow medical doctors and members of the clergy to put Doctor or Reverend in front of their names. Other than that, it is just plain Mister, Missus, or Miss, and even those become less common every day. The founder of the TFP, Professor Plinio Corrêa de Oliveira, thought that this tendency was very unfortunate. In his mind, titles separated those who provided exceptional service to their nations and God – together with their descendants – from the rest of the human herd. He believed that such separations – or hierarchies – were essential to the proper order of society.

1973 October War, 50th anniversary October 6.  October 6, 2023 is the 50th anniversary of the 1973 October War.  This war lasted three long weeks and took the great powers (the US and the USSR) to the brink of  nuclear war.  It also cleared the sinuses, so to speak.   Nixon and Kissinger realized that unless there was progress in working out some kind of resolution of the 1967 war, the US was going to get dragged into a major war.  Let me clarify the term “The Year of Decision.”  My lecture got a bit distracted on that.  In 1972 Sadat spoke to his parliament and said “This is the Year of Decision.”  The Egyptians knew what that meant.  They cheered hysterically.  The Israelis also knew what that meant. They mobilized their reserves and prepared for the attack.  That mobilization cost a lot of money.  But as the joke goes, what if you gave a war and nobody came?  In fact, there was no war in 1972.  Then in 1973, Sadat delivered another speech.  “This is the Year of Decision.”  Again, the Egyptians were hysterical with excitement.  But Golda Meir decided she had been snookered once and would not be snookered a second time.  Alas, for her, this time the war came.  And Israel was not prepared.  This  decision wrecked Golda Meir's credibility.  She was driven from office and replaced by Yitzhak Rabin (who was elected a second time in 1992).   The Israelis still argue over who was responsible for that decision not to mobilize.  Let me also note that the Israelis thought it was a bit of dirty pool that the attack came on Yom Kippur Eve when many  Israeli soldiers had been given home leave.  Of course it also came during Ramadan so it was a religious holiday for both sides.  We Americans also remember that George Washington attacked the British at Trenton on Christmas Eve when he knew the British army would be drunk.  As Harvey unwisely said in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, “there are no rules in a knife fight.” Or a war.  This was a class lecture and there were a few glitches along the way:  paper rattling, the zoom fading.  And also the laptop microphone not as good as the quality one I now hae.  I hope that is not too distracting. 

It's a Book, It's a Podcast Episode, It's KismetA bunch of geeks (native born, immigrants; Americans all) interviewing an Australian and a New Zealander/Australian/American (it's complicated) set Yr. Obt. Svt. to immediately think of the title of this podcast (eh, I need to get more than one hobby), who then looked up the phrase and found that…it's a travelogue of a New Zealander's view of the USA, circa 1888.  Seriously, what are the chances that the Mind of Cameron (often non compos mentis, invariably kind of wacky) and reality and a not half bad title smack up against each other?  This podcast episode was destiny realized. What then is the value of a Culture Clash episode where people-who-are-practically-Americans (ahem) are interviewed by-people-who-are-practically-Aussies-and-Kiwis?  I have noted that those who are closest and yet different are often the best observers, for they are alike enough to understand nuance but separate enough to not be blinded by a common mindset.Richard (the man of a million or so legitimate passports) and Pete (just the one country, but Godzone)  have lived/worked in the States.  Just what are their perceptions?  What are two very different (from the US-of-A) EPM markets like?I should note that Pete got me (I did do some of the work) the 2017 Best Kscope Essbase co-speaker award that I have always, always, always wanted.  My oh my, did I want that, did I ever think I deserved it – yes, cruel ego as it was always unfulfilled – and I never did get it till Pete and I did a presentation on Hybrid Essbase.  I will note that Pete has won multiple best speaker awards at Kscope, so I have a sneaking suspicion our joint award is 20% Cameron, 80% Pete but no matter, a win is a win.  I should also note that Kscope 2017 was my last Oracle conference as a speaker, so it made the reward all the sweeter.Richard graciously was my host at Flinders Uni way back in (I think) 2012 as part of an ODTUG conference tour of the Antipodes and facilitated (orchestrated?) an ODI/Essbase presentation at NZOUG.  My primary memory of that trip (I was in a constant state of jet lag) was dinner with Richard and a bunch of attendees and being stared at as a Real Life American geek, not commonly seen in the wild, sitting there eating his plate of spag bol, feeling more self-conscious than usual were that possible.  Oh well, I like to provide entertainment to all, no matter the cost.  Having the two of them on the show was and is a special treat.Not For The Faint of HeartFor those of delicate disposition, easily offended by adult words, mortally insulted by honest, open, and frank conversation, I fear you must put on your big boy/girl pants and buckle up.  We Americans, cultural descendants of the Puritans, beseeched our guests to tone down the language lest you, Gentle Listener, get a case of the vapors.  They mostly complied, but You Have Been Warned.  That takes care of the North Americans; the rest of the world won't care. Sensitivities aside, as always our guests are witty, insightful, and extremely interesting.Join us, won't you?

We Americans love to win. And when it comes to our social or political opponents–those people who are just plain wrong!, we feel like we *must* win. And yet, our fixation on winning is driving us deeper into division, animosity, and at times even outright hate. So in today's sermon, we'll explore a better way. We'll consider how Jesus treats people who are wrong and what it would mean for us to follow his lead. Join us as we kick off our new series, “Not In It To Win It.” 

My guest, Dr. William Levine, DDS is also a board-certified Periodontist specializing in oral diseases and implantology and has over 35 years of experience in the dental field. That may sound like the lead into a boring conversation but my time with Dr. Levine was anything but. He makes the science of teeth and gums simple and interesting.I had to ask about flossing—yes it is as important as why our dentists harp on doing it. He made a good point I hadn't thought of:“You're brushing the outside and the inside, but you're actually not getting between the teeth. The surfaces of these are filled with bacteria and the bacteria forms immediately there and begins to grow there. And you're not able to remove it. There's no place else in your body where you would tolerate that.”All sorts of nasty possibilities if we did…He gave a thumbs up for my fave portable flossing tool—the interdental brush pic, or in my parlance, the round brush thing. It's virtually as good as flossing.I've got a new favorite phrase: immunomodulatory protective system, aka bacteria killing agents. These guys work to keep us from getting infections below the gum line and in the bones. Ask them to work overtime for too long—not effectively cleaning your teeth and gums—and they begin to cause damage and bone destruction.We Americans are not doing too well in the tooth and mouth care scale. “In the United States, which is relatively high level of oral health awareness and the population generally takes care of their teeth.And still over 50% of the American population have advanced or significant gum disease over the age of 35. That's an enormous number. And when you look at gingivitis, which is simply inflamed gums that haven't yet caused bone destruction, we're talking about the 85% of the adult population.”The thing I most wanted to share with you is the relationship between the health of our mouths and our cardiovascular system. Dr. Levine says it goes further than just our hearts.“if we get to the place of periodontal disease, bacteria overload, infection you can't necessarily see, our bloodstream absorbs reams of bacteria causing an enormous elevation in inflammatory chemicals, which will elevate what we would classically call the inflammatory profile. Our body is at high risk at that point, and therefore it impacts actually much more than just cardiac disease.There's very strong associative data to show that it impacts significantly upon, strokes, it increases diabetes risk, it increases rheumatic fever and rheumatoid arthritis and pretty much every other disease, even Alzheimer's and others.”No healthy aging program can be complete without including our teeth and gums.Dr. Levine was and is so concerned with the high rates of inflammation in our population, and knowing that none of the over the counter rinses are reaching into the gums where inflammation can live and hide, that he created his own product, PeriActive.According to their website, PeriActive is the only product that will actually penetrate into the gums to reduce inflammation and strengthen the gums by inducing collagen formation and healing.It's 100% natural plant based formula. If you listen you'll hear him talk about the painstaking process of testing ingredients and formulations. What he thought would take 6 months took 10 years to develop! Unlike most over the counter rinses it has no sugar, no alcohol, and no chemicals.I had hoped it would be available here in the states by now (June 5, 2023) it's slated to arrive in...

Do you know about the chemicals that are in the supplements you take and the food you eat? Frank Davis is back today to talk about our health and what you need to know to make sure that your supplements and food don't have toxic chemicals in them. You'll be surprised by the examples that Frank gives of everyday vitamins, supplements, and foods that you probably eat every day that are contaminated with chemicals! Frank says, “We (Americans) are the most over-fed, under-nourished people in the world!” Watch as Frank conducts an experiment with a few people from our Morningside staff to show how sugar spikes in the body after eating. He tells us more about Optivida's SugR-2-FibR supplement and how it helps to optimize your body's ability to process sugar in the body. You won't want to miss the experiment with our staff members! You need this nutritional information so that you can manage a healthy diet and body function. Mondo says, “It will change the way you eat and live!”

We Americans are notorious for making our unwanted stuff someone else's problem. Part of the reason has to do with our desire to be altruistic: We tell ourselves we're helping the less fortunate when we pass on our perfectly decent items.But the reality is much bleaker: Both our recently-decluttered donations and our down-and-dirty trash create problems for the people and places that get stuck with our stuff. Here's a preview of what we're discussing today:[3:00] The literal mountain of clothes in West Africa[7:00] Swirling, soupy, and more than one: Here's what you likely didn't know about the Pacific trash vortex[14:00] Alabama's recent landfill fire[18:00] What's the reality re: America's plastic recyclables?[22:00] You - yes you! - can help. Here's how --Join our (free!) community here.Find your tribe. Sustainable Minimalists are on Facebook, Instagram + Youtube.Email me and say hello! MamaMinimalistBoston@gmail.com.Support this podcast at — https://redcircle.com/sustainable-minimalists/exclusive-contentAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

We Americans know that Batman was also popular in the United Kingdom (and many other countries), but there are differences in the level of popularity that was reached and how long it lasted, and also in terms of when “first run” of the show was there. 66 Batman Message Board co-admin Ben Bentley is, in fact, British, so we asked for his assistance in tackling this topic. Our discussion touches on the show's second wind in the ‘70s, Batman references in The Avengers (as in Steed and Peel) and other British TV shows and commercials (on into the '80s!), Adam West's “Kerb Drill” traffic safety PSA, the Carpet King, whether British kids actually jumped from roofs because of Batman, and more. Plus, the Piano AccoMan version of the theme, more of Adam talking with Conan O'Brien, and your reaction to Episode 199's discussion of the Nora Clavicle script!   "Batman: The Super-Sell" (The Tatler, July 16, 1966)   Batmobile-adjacent car on Rentaghost (1983)       Adam's "Batman and Robin" single from 1976   Adam's "Kerb Drill" PSA (1967)   Adam on the Danny Baker Show (1994)   What the Pope admitted about meeting Adam West   Fight scene from The Avengers "The Winged Avenger"   Only Fools and Horses Bat-ref   Austin Rover ad (1987)   Cyril Lord carpets commercial (History of Advertising Trust)Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band's "I'm Bored" - reference to Carpet King ad 2 minutes in