This picture captures the Cult of Saint Obama perfectly.
Archive for June, 2008|Monthly archive page
Kentuckys Joe Crawford goes to the Lakers in the 2008 NBA Draft
In UK Basketball on June 27, 2008 at 10:21 pm
Congratulations to Joe C!
I, for one, give all credit for that to Billy Gillispie and Joe Crawford. Joe was drafted number 58 in the 2nd Round. It’s not guaranteed money. Historically speaking, the odds are against him making a roster. I gotta think that Joe will beat the odds. At the beginning of this season, no one and I mean NO ONE gave Joe C a chance of being in the NBA Draft conversation.
Joe will beat the odds and make his way onto that Lakers roster. Give him a couple of years and this fellow is going to be a starter. I know. I know. IMPOSSIBLE.
Nonsense. Joe is a fighter. And he was given a new lease on basketball life when he bought into what Coach Gillispie was selling. If Joe had benefited from Gillispie as Coach from the beginning of his College career, he would have gone 1st Round. Probably after his Junior year.
Joe came out of HS a McD AA. 3 years of Tubby served as a period of regression and zero discipline. 1 year of Coach G took Joe back to being a true baller. A prospect with a future and potential. As long as Joe stays hungry. He’s been given the tools to be great again.
To all of those LA fans out there. You are getting a tough nosed defender. A guy who can take it to the hole. A guy who can score. Joe stays healthy and drops about 10 to 15 pounds and picks up the speed that being lighter will give him, he’ll be a much better offensive weapon. The dude has been at 85% the past two years and he was still a beast for the Cats.
Joe was injured off and on the past two years. If he stays healthy, he’s gonna be a force in the NBA. He’s got the same potential to make an impact that both Prince and Rondo had. He’s accustomed to the limelight. Those LA stars aren’t going to phase Joe. I don’t think LA is going to be disappointed in this pick.
Congrats again to Joe Crawford and to the Lakers. This will be one move that they won’t regret.
We have a saying…
In culture, Middle East on June 22, 2008 at 1:08 am
I mentioned this scene in an earlier post. I finally was able to get a good bootleg version and clip it for my blog. I know it isn’t funny. But it is…
Jake Gyllenhaal has turned out to be a great actor. Jarhead and Rendition being two of his best efforts. They may both be liberal anti-War type movies but they are excellent drama as well as excellent acting on the part of old Jake. Now, I”m not getting into that other movie. I couldn’t even watch it. The kid is on his way to a great career.
The Pearl of Khorasan
In Afghanistan, culture, Travel on June 20, 2008 at 2:58 pmHerāt (Persian: هرات) is a city in western Afghanistan, in the province also known as Herāt. It is situated in the valley of the Hari River, which flows from the mountains of central Afghanistan to the Karakum Desert in Turkmenistan. Situated in a fertile area, Herāt was traditionally known for its wine. It is the third largest city in Afghanistan, with a population of 349,000 (2006 official estimate). Persian-speaking Tājiks (or Fārsīwān) are the main inhabitants of the city and are roughly the same as the Persians of Eastern Iran.[1][2]
Herat is an ancient city with many historic buildings, although these have suffered damage in various military conflicts during the last few decades. The city is dominated by the remains of a citadel constructed by Alexander the Great. During the Middle Ages Herat became one of the important cities of Khorasan, and it was known as the Pearl of Khorasan.
Herāt is situated favorably on the ancient and historic trade routes of the Middle East, South Asia, Pakistan,China, India and Europe. The roads from Herāt to Iran, Turkmenistan, Mazar-e Sharif and Kandahar are still strategically important.
I took these pictures from the inside of an armored F150.
Herat. The Pearl of Khorasan. This was and to an extent still is the example to which Central Asia aspires.
Think about that…
About set for my Holiday
In Travel on June 20, 2008 at 12:34 amToday, I flew from Herat to Kabul. It’s the first leg of the journey that will be this holiday. From here, I fly to Dubai. I’ll spend a day there and then fly to the States.
I was so excited to be starting my vacation that I couldn’t sleep last night. I finally drifted off at about 4:15 AM and had to be up at 5:30 AM. I jumped up when the alarm clock went off and grabbed my bags and my body armor. I had to be at the convoy SP area at 5:50 AM. I got over there with 7 minutes to spare. Just enough time to run to the DFAC to grab a quick sandwich and some fruit.
The SECFOR took me to the airport where I had to wait for another hour before any signs of life became evident at the civilian side of Hirat Airport. I was meeting Farhad there at 7:15 so that he could walk me through any problems that might arise. But I rarely have any problems in Afghanistan. I just started talking in my meager, “pigeon” Dari and smiling and joking and laughing with folks and I pretty much get away with murder. I’ve yet to be required to check my bags in Hirat. They police have always taken care of it for me. This time, they told me that I could just wait at the terminal and they’d make sure everything went ok. It helps that I wear the uniform of the US Army. But usually it’s my easy laugh that gets me through everything with such ease.
This morning when I walked over to the civilian terminal from the ISAF side, several of the ANP Border or Customs Police had little Mississippi pins on their uniforms. Someone came through and gave several out to the Border Police. I tolk them that I’d have to rectify that and bring some Kentucky pins back with me to share with them.
In the Airport this morning, there were several women sans burqa. And some of them were very pretty. One was Victoria Secret’s model gorgeous. It was difficult to NOT keep looking her way. I certainly can’t stare at or check out women in a place where almost all eyes are on me. I’ve grown accustomed to it but Afghanis stare at me like I’m from Mars. All the time. I think it’s funny. I say hi to everyone. And laugh about it.
I spent the two hours waiting for my flight talking to the Airport Commander and his officers. Several of them, I recognized from my time at FDD. So I used that to start conversations. Usually I didn’t need to start talking as they were all pretty keen to talk to me. Or rather to talk to the American fellow with the loud laugh. One of the Captains explained to me the security features of the terminal and showed me the contraband room. Drawers full of matchbooks and lighters and sprays and even a couple of jerry cans of fuel. Afghans attempt to bring some odd things onto Airplanes with them. Another guy. A LTC. He gave me his Field Training Officer badge to wear on my uniform. This same fellow allowed me to board the plane in advance of the other passengers. That was quite convenient.
There were several children in the terminal awaiting flights. I had taken some fruit and pop tarts from the DFAC. I gave most of it away to the children. A couple of apples and a banana. One little girl was crying loudly. I took the banana and gave it to her mother. I figured most kids love bananas. It might help. Eventually, she ate the banana and stopped crying. I gave another little girl a pack of gum. When I got to Kabul, I gave a couple cute little boys some candy that the Chaplain had given me earlier in the week. I love getting the smiles in return and the shy little “tashakors” in reply.
Of course, I took the first seat next to the exit when I got on the airplane. It was a full flight so an Afghani fellow sat next to me. I could tell that he was confused by my uniform. I’m obviously American. Yet, I’ve got Afghani patches and badges all over my unifrorm. I laughed as I listened to his friend explain it to him. I could understand pieces of their conversation.
Eventually, I pulled out my iPod. I watched some videos while I waited for the airplane to take off. My neighbor was fascinated. He stared at my iPod like it was magical. So, of course, I played the videos that I have that have the sexiest women. Shakira Hips Don’t Lie and La Tortura. That kind of thing. I don’t think the guy blinked.
After the plane was safely in the air and we were on our way to Kabul, I put the iPod in my pocket and dozed off. I was awakened 90 minutes later and told that we were about to land. Thank God they woke me. We landed so hard that I’m sure I would have panicked and thought we were crashing had I been asleep.
We hit the ground hard. HARD. Then twisted left and right until they pilot got it all under control. It seemed to me that he took an inordinate amount of time to slow as well. That’s Ariana for ya. I’ve heard that they are a bit wild as far as Afghani Airlines go.
We landed. Boarded a blue bus for the terminal. Once inside the terminal at Kabul, it is pure madness at the luggage carousel. There is one baggage carousel. People coming from Herat, Teheran, new Delhi, Dubai, Qandahar and other places. Chaos ensues as everyone attempts to get their bags. There are no signs or announcements. Just bags flying off the carousel and people crowding forward in an attempt to get their bags or just close enough to see if their bags are coming along. It’s pretty insane.
After you get your bags, you have to show your baggage claim tickets to exit the area. Next, you walk over to the practically unmanned x-ray machine to have your bags checked by these wholly “professional” souls. They barely pay any attention. Grab your bags on the other end and you are free.
My ride was waiting for me in Parking Lot 3. So I had a ways to walk. I walk out of the Kabul Pax Terminal and the sun smacks me in the face. Then I have to walk through Parking Lot 2 and on to PL3.
Parking Lot 3 is also the waiting area for flights. A few months ago, it was an open area. No shelter. Nothing. You waited for your flight in the rain, snow, sun, cold or heat. So basically, you called ahead and arrived no earlier than one hour before boarding. I waited out there for 3 hours in the hot September sun last year. I just read a book. Luckily, it doesn’t rain often in Kabul.
To get to my ride, I had to pass through hundreds of folks who were either waiting to board or waiting for friends, family and colleagues arriving from around the globe. Of course, I got a hundred confused looks because of my uniform and Afghani police insignia. I just kept moving and laughing. Finally, I got through the crowds and Arif was waiting for me on the other side.
I threw my bags in his vehicle and he drove me home to the safehouse.
Now, I’m waiting for my flight to Dubai. Dubai. That’s when the fun begins…
Peace on earth…
In Afghanistan on June 14, 2008 at 1:50 am
This is one of my best photos. The man in green has a sublimely peaceful and welcoming air. The boys seem to see all the world at their feet. The man in white. Probably a Mullah. Concentrating on his verses. One hopes that he is working out the path to peace in his heart and the world.
It is hot in Herat!
In Travel on June 13, 2008 at 7:28 pmHot as hell. Walking outside is like walking into a blast furnace. In 6 days, I will begin the journey that takes me home to my Momma and then on to Asia. I am so so looking forward to rolling out of here. 9 Days at home to visit my Momma and some of the rest of my family.
Then…
Off to Bangkok for some real fun. Two days there to relax and become acclimated to Asia.
Next stop is Cambodia. Something about that place that I love. I want to explore a bit more. Go deeper into the place. Go a little off the beaten path. I’ll probably spend about 8 days in Cambodia. Two in Phnom Penh and 6 or so in and around Siem Reap. Must see Angkor again, of course. I want to get away and see Battambang and other places that don’t get the usual tramp of tourism. See what I can out there. Just gotta be careful. Landmines out there in the wilds of Cambodia. The Khmer Rouge were as ugly as the Soviets and Taliban when it came to emplacing landmines.
My buddy Becca will join me when I get back to Bangkok and then it’s off to India and on to Egypt. Two of the most exotic locales on the planet. Pyramids and Tah Mahals. Moghuls and Khans and Pharaohs. Perhaps, we should leave early and take a side trip into Jerusalem. I’ve been to Jerusalem before. It’s one of those places where you can feel humanity and the ages speaking to you. History wails through the cracks in the Western Wall. The legend of Christ can be felt there. His pain and his love for humanity. The oppression of both the Roman and Islamic Empire can be felt still floating through the air. The victims still cry for justice. You can smell the blood that has been spilt. Feel the rage of the rebellions and revolutions. Jerusalem is truly a special city. It’s a magnitude of “exceptionality” that one can not comprehend until one has experienced the City of Peace. Likewise, visiting the Pyramids is extraordinary. Thousands of years of history. One follows a multitude of pilgrims to Ghiza, Saqqara and Memphis. Millions of Egyptians look to the Pyramids with pride. Knowing that their country, their culture produced such wonders in antiquity. I’m sure it makes them feel as though they can rise and do so again. With leadership and true philosophy, I’m sure that they could. But Egypt, like the rest of the Muslim world, will do nothing again until they throw off the mind numbing shackles of Islam. Islam where Insha’allah prevails as the philosophy of progress.
India. Who can truly summarize the Golden Continent of Gandhi. All great Empires of the old age coveted this realm of spice and riches and magic exoticism. Beauty and uncommon wealth are ubiquitous on the subcontinent. Yet, dwelling in the house of beauty and affluence is their stepsisters poverty, famine and death. I have read much of India but have yet to experience it. I shall on this journey for the first time. Hopefully, more trips will follow and I will get to know India well.
I still can’t believe how hot it is here today. I don’t want to step outside my door. I don’t remember the Sinai being this hot. I feel like the Sun is a mere inch from my face while outside my door. Scorching my skin. Incinerating my nose and ears. Yet, January saw the worst blizzard Herat had seen in decades. 2 feet of snow. Freezing temperatures.
And I thought Kentucky weather was insane.
I read in the news that Kobe has choked again. Kobe will never be the great player. He will always be the one who could have been. The one who should have been. Too much was given to Bryant. He hasn’t learned that sometimes one has to take the prize. Reach out and make it so. He still thinks that he deserves the prize. No one deserves anything. One achieves or one does not. Kobe does not. His instinct is now and will always be to expect to win. He has not learned that he must keep fighting until the last ounce of sweat has been sacrificed. He still hasn’t learned that he can’t do it alone. He still hasn’t learned that leadership is a full time job. Not a sometimes job. He settles for the question when he should drive to certainty.
Therefore, another Kentucky boy will get a ring.
Go Rondo! Go Celtics!
Newt Gingrich on the Energy Crisis
In Middle East on June 13, 2008 at 7:26 pmHe makes some good points. America needs another Reagan to lead us through this crisis.
More corruption in the Obama campaign Headquarters
In Middle East on June 12, 2008 at 12:33 pmJune 11, 2008
Will there be anyone left to “advise” Obama by the end of this Presidential race? It seems that Obama has surrounded himself with nothing but thieves, crooks, racists, anti-Americans and Marxists toadies. The Lobamatomites tell us that Obama is fresh and new. He’s going to change everything. He’s going to clean up the town. He’s going to do away with corruption. All he is doing is changing the guard. Out with the old crooks in with the new crooks who are same as the old crooks. There is nothing new in the Obama camp. Even his rhetoric is borrowed. Will the Nation wake up in time or will Obama slide into the White House on the same greased skids that brought us Bill Clinton.
Jump right up folks and get your Lobamatomy! Step right up! The West and it’s useful idiots. I’m sure Stalin is rolling in his grave. Laughing at us.
She was adorable…
In Afghanistan on June 10, 2008 at 12:23 am
I had to run over to Camp Arena today to get the cap placed back on my tooth. Damn thing came off last night while I was eating. Camp Arena is the ISAF base at the Airport. The Spanish run the Hospital there. The Army gave me and two other guys a ride over for our dental appointments. The Spanish Docs were all pretty cool. Spaniards whom I have met over here are all pretty laid back. While we were waiting, two of the Docs walked out to have a smoke. I joined them. The both were intrigued by my smokes. Djarum Black Cappuccino. [thanx, Sis] They kept saying “cappuccino” and telling me that my smokes smelled like pipe or cigar tobacco. So I gave them a couple of my smokes. They were pretty appreciative. I think I made a couple of friends.
When I walked up to the Hospital, waiting outside in the “waiting room” were several Afghanis. The women all seemed to be dressed pretty upscale for Afghans. Very nice clothing. They had pulled up their burqas. The children were well behaved and very clean. Not the normal inch of 6 month old crud encrusted skin and dirty, dusty clothing that I’m used to seeing at and around the Police Stations. There was one boy and several girls. One very pretty little girl who was probably around aged 8 or 9 kept staring at me. So I smiled at her. She smiled back and seemed very happy about the interaction. I walked over and gave her a pack of Mentos gum. She gave me a huge, bright smile at that and nodded her thanks. She was seemed too shy to talk. I didn’t want to cause her any embarrassment or cause any concern for her mother or offend any of the Afghani men who were in the “waiting room” with us, so I just smiled at her and walked back over to the Spanish Docs.
About that time, the Dentist came out and called for me. I was first for the torture treatment. I went in. She adjusted my cap. Fiddled around in my mouth for a few minutes. Made a few adjustments to my cap. Fitted it in and made me close my mouth a couple of times. Then she pulled it out. Applied some kind of adhesive to it and re-affixed the cap to my tooth. I had to sit in her office and let the adhesive dry for 50 minutes. After the alloted time, she came back in. Scrubbed around the tooth and cap to make sure all was ok with the fitting and such. Made sure I was good with everything and then she let me go. i thanked her and went back outside to wait for the two guys who came in with me.
When I went back outside, I sat down on the ground in the “waiting area” and started reading the book that I had brought with me. I sat down in the middle of the waiting area about 5 feet away from the group of women and children who were waiting for the Docs. The Afghani men were sitting to the right of me. As I sat and read, the little girl to whom I had given the gum slowly inched her way over. Closer and closer to me. I purposely paid her no attention so as not to spook her. I wanted to see what she would do. So she got about a foot and a half away and sat. Then slowly slid over next to me so she was almost touching me. So close, in fact, that I could feel her breathing on my arm. I was a little surprised. Such a brave child. I looked over and smiled at her. She smiled back. I kept reading. I’m sure that she couldn’t read English. But I made sure that she could see my book. I found myself wishing that I had brought a book with pictures for this circumstance. Would have been cool to show her pictures of other worlds and realities to which she will probably never have access. [A bit of coincidence. I'm reading Caliphate by Tom Kratman. At this point of the book, one of the main characters is a 9 year old Muslim girl. Now, as I come across this character in the book, I see my little Afghani friend.]
One of the Army guys who gave us a ride over showed up and gave the little girl a bag of M&Ms. She smiled up at him in gratitude. It’s always nice to see kids smile when they are given candy or shown a kindness. In those moments, all is right in the world. Small moments that never quite last long enough. I pointed to the M&Ms and told her “chocolate.” She smiled at me. And shyly looked down at her small treasure of candy coated chocolate delights. Then she tore open the bag and the first thing that she did was offer some to me. I refused. Insistently pointing to her and telling her to enjoy her candy. She ate a few while sweetly smiling at me.
I stopped reading and started looking through all of my pockets for something to give her as a gift. Some small token or memento of her encounter with the blonde haired American soldier. Because of the uniform that MPRI has us wear, Afghanis always assume that I’m a soldier. After surveying the inventory of my pockets, I could only come up with one thing that had any meaning at all. I ripped off my name tag and gave it to her and said “naam-e man” which means “my name.” She was the cutest little angel with the sweetest little smile. The whole time she sat next to me, I smelled flowers. Must have been her shampoo as she very nearly had her head on my shoulder the whole time she sat next to me.
Eventually, the Docs came and took her in to take care of her ailments. Before she returned, the guys and I were all finished up. We went to lunch. By the time we finished eating and got back to our vehicle, the little girl and all of the Afghanis were gone.
Little encounters like this one are always magical for me. A few smiles and simple gestures. Yet, a whole world can pass between people in small spaces such as this. Helping to bring a smile to a little girls face is such a priceless experience. I can not quite describe the joy that I derive from these simple moments. I sat there next to that girl and watched her smile and thought of my nieces and every little girl in the world. In moments like these, I feel truly lucky to be able to move about in life as I do. I have experienced so much and met so many great people along the path of my life.
Little girls are made of daisies and butterflies and soft kitty cat purrs And all the precious memories of times that once were.
Little girls are made of angel’s wings and giggles and a firefly’s glow And all the happy feelings, deep inside, that we all know.
Little girls are made of cinnamon and bubbles and fancy white pearls And snowflakes and rainbows and ballerina twirls.
Little girls are made of sunshine and cupcakes and fresh morning dew, And these are the reasons, little one, why everyone loves you.
I didn’t have my camera with me. So I couldn’t take my little friends pictures. These will have to do.
Islam and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance
In Afghanistan, culture, Travel on June 7, 2008 at 7:47 am
Since I’ve been in country, that scene more than any other is universal. A guy with his lady hitting the road on a bike. She might be his sister. His wife. On the rare occasion, she may even be a girlfriend. It’s quite an odd scene. A burqa just doesn’t seem to fit in with the easygoing reputation of motorcyclists. Guys [and gals] on motorcycles are supposed to be rebels. Mavericks. That doesn’t seem to fit with the uptight, dogmatism of which the burqa is symbolic. The Burqa is for the woman anonymity and for the man it is honor. No man should look upon the face of his wife without his permission or it is a stain upon his honor. If the wife looks upon the face of another, that small act dishonors both the man and the wife. Strange thought process, that is. Thankfully, it’s one that is losing favor with the younger generation. Of course, this transformation occurs mostly in the cities. The countryside is still conservative.
Qandahar. Herat. Kabul. Bagram. This blue burqa is ubiquitous throughout the Big A. The first time I saw a burqa on a motorcycle I was a bit taken aback. LIke I said above, it just does not fit. They should all read Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. It’s a good book and they could use some Zen in Afghanistan to go with their motorcycles.
Iran meets America
In Afghanistan, islam, Middle East, Travel on June 6, 2008 at 2:29 am
Herat, Afghanistan
Today, I travelled out to one of he Provincial HQs. I gave a class to some NCOs and Officers of the Afghan National Police. The NCOs looked like boys to me. One looked like he could have been 16. None of the NCOs looked old enough to drink back in the States.
I’ve had several students from this Province attend the course that I give at my home station. While out on assistance visits, I usually run into someone that I know. They are always so respectful. Even those who are years older than I. Today, I ran into several. Zabiuallah Khan, Khoda Dad and a couple more whose names escape me. We stood around and talked about Afghanistan and anything else that came to mind. Some of them are old so they talked about their ailments.
After my class, my two interpretors and I walked outside to grab a smoke. One of my students walked by me looking downcast, so I yelled at him to smile. He replied by saying that it was “too hot to smile.” I laughed and replied; “Never! Never too hot to smile. ” Ya gotta be happy. I stood there and talked to anyone who would talk to me as we waited to depart the AO. I just throw out random “soobha khairs” and “asalaam aleyukkums” and “jor astees” to anyone who looks my way.
Two of ANP soldiers were standing around me and I started joking with them. As we stood there, a fair looking Afghani maiden in uniform walked by us. I think I was the only one who noticed. She was a cute gal. Young, though. She’ll never be more than a tea server here in Afghanistan. No matter how intelligent she might be. It’s a shame. I laugh [in derision] every time I see the publicity for the enhanced rights of women in Afghanistan. It’s a great fairy tale. Women in Uniform. Serving Tea.
I noticed this guy following me around the area. He kept staring my way and edging closer and closer. His act was a bit disconcerting. Made me a bit apprehensive. As I was surrounded by policemen and in a safe zone, I wasn’t too concerned. The fellow was also old and frail looking. Didn’t look like he could carry a bomb much less employ it.
Eventually, the man found the courage to walk up and speak to us.
He was an Irani. From Mashhad. Mashhad is just the other side of the border from Herat. His story was that he was a tourist in Herat. He was attempting to get his VISA extended or something to that effect at the PHQ.
I had nothing pressing going on. Just waiting for my ride back to my present duty location. So I sat there and talked to the guy.
Dave: I wish that our countries were friends. I would love to visit Iran.
Mohammad Alam: It is the Mullahs. They are crazy.
Dave: Well, it’s not entirely their fault. We helped to put them in power with our part in the Mossadegh caper.
Mohammad Alam: It would be good to have peace.
Dave: Indeed, it would. Persians and Americans are natural allies. Not natural enemies. Personally, I think we should shoot all of the Mullahs. Both Christian and Muslim. Then we can all lay religious divisions aside and just get along as people.
Mohammad Alam: Yes. I would shoot them, too. Give me an AK47 and we can be done with them all.
My terps are always nervous when I start conversations like this. Who knows. The guy could have become agitated or someone nearby could overhear and start making noise. We talked further. I’m not proselytizing for Christianity or Buddhism or Zoroastrianism, though. I don’t like any religion. I asked my new friend to trade money as a memento of our meeting. He gave me some Iranian money. I gave him some US money. He kept refusing. But I persuaded him by saying that I wanted him to take a piece of America back with him. But only if it was safe. The taliban have killed several children in Afghanistan for the heinous crime of possession of US dollars. I didn’t know how safe it might be for an Irani fellow to carry dollars in his wallet. After that, we took this picture together. We tried to take one with his phone but his battery was dead. If he was a spy, he was a poorly skilled one and not well prepared either.
So that was my second contact with an Irani in Herat, Afghanistan. The guy may well have been a spy. Information on me won’t do him much good. My terps asked me why I talked to him when he was more than likely a spy. He never asked me anything about my job or why I was in Herat. He seemed excited to merely meet an American. No information was exchanged that could not have been gleaned from my uniform. If the US Army and my employer wanted those things secret, I’d be wearing civilian clothing instead of the uniform. I’m not going to sweat contact with an Iranian or a picture when I’ve had my face plastered on Afghani TV several times. They know I’m here and they know why I’m here.
Newt Gingrich on the Islamic Threat
In Politics on June 5, 2008 at 7:09 pmHe is totally correct here. The American people and especially those on the left will not wake up to the threat of Islam until we lose a city.
New York.
Chicago.
Washington D.C.
Los Angeles.
Houston.
The Islamic radicals will finally find success in their evil endeavors. It is almost inevitable.
Why?
America refuses to take the threat seriously. I give it ten years. It matters not if we are successful or a failure in Afghanistan, Iraq or both. My opinion. One city in America gets nuked. Mekkah should be the first retaliatory target. If that doesn’t get them the message.
Teheran.
Damascus.
Any belief system that employs children as suicide bombers is unworthy of existence. Period. The Saudis expect the United States of America to sit and take lectures on tolerance when you can’t find one Church, one Temple or one Synagogue on Saudi soil?
And we sit silently and take it because of OIL.
I don’t want to hear it from Democrats. It was a Democratic President who signed the deal with the devils in the first place. His name was FDR. And every President since, no matter party affiliation, has continued to suck at the teat and bend at the knee to the House of Saud. All of you Brits can keep silent as well. Mossadegh was taken out by the CIA at the request of none other than Winston Churchill. France. Everyone knows the cowardly history of French Colonialism. Russia is no better than anyone else. China and India will soon learn.
FDR, Truman, Ike, Camelot and his family of Mafioso wannabes, LBJ, Tricky Dicky, Jimmah the Peacemaker, Reagan, Bush I, Clinton and our current Bushie.
By my count that is 6 Democrat Presidents and 5 Republicans. For most of that period, we had a Democratic Congress.
NOT ONE DEMOCRAT should say a word about oil wars or kissing the Royal and Gilded Saudi buttocks.
Kentucky and the NBA Draft — Joe Crawford
In UK Basketball on June 4, 2008 at 2:05 pm
Another year, another NBA Draft. Another year with no Kentucky players being projected to be drafted.
Neither Joe Crawford nor Ramel Bradley are projected to be drafted. Bradley has no chance. He won’t even get a cup of coffee in the NBA. This will make Tubby fans sad. They are so proud when Tubby Smith “gets’ guys into the NBA in this manner. They literally fall over themselves pointing out that both Erik Daniels and Gerald Fitch spent 5 or ten minutes on an NBA roster.
Joe Crawford may geta late 2nd round draw. If not, he will get a couple of calls for free agency before he has to head to Europe to play ball. I think Joe will get on in the same manner as Chuck Hayes.
OF course, the mindless Tubby drones will all credit Orlando. Saying that he is the reason. Another Tubby recruits gets in the NBA due to Tubby and his excellent development skills. I laugh at the thought.
Joe came out of High School highly regarded. His growth was retarded by Smith. Later, Billy Gillispie accelerated his growth. 4 years under a Coach (Gillispie) who knows how to develop, utilize and SHOWCASE talent and Joe Crawford would be looking at the late First Round and guaranteed money.
The Tubby era saw two Orlando recruits go First Round for the guaranteed money. One was a guy who stayed the course through four years of turmoil and dissent that was not seen even in the Probation years–Tayshaun Prince. Is there anyone who would argue that Prince was not a steal when Detroit swooped him up. Then there was Rondo, more team turmoul and another Draft where a UK player was a steal for a team in the late first round.
I’m hoping those days are over. Patrick Patterson should go high first round. The recruits that Gillispie and his team are bringing in should see UK back in the top of the draft. That in turn will help recruiting. Recruiting is a machine that feeds off of highlight reels and draft potential. If a Coach can get his recruits into the NBA, more and more high talent will fall in line for that Coach. More talent translates to deeper runs in the tourney.
Talent combined with good or great coaching will translate into Championships.
Good Luck in the Draft, Joe. I hope some team sees your skill and talent and picks you up.
Go Cats!
