It’s too good to be true and likely won’t become a law, but for now, it’s golden. North Dakota lawmakers just passed a bill (51 to 41) that defines a fertilized egg as a human being with all the rights of a “person.” (Source)
While it didn’t take a bill to declare a fertilized egg human (because it is human, as opposed to canine), the language of the measure directly challenges Roe v. Wade.
If the state senate passes the bill, it won’t become law unless the governor signs it. The bill outlaws abortion; that’s why the governor won’t sign it. Selfish, irresponsible, and amoral men and women will fight like hell to keep child killing legal, and too many judges (and governors) agree with Roe’s tortured ruling. Supreme Court justices found a way to justify murder by declaring that the Constitution contains a “right to privacy” (which it does not) that includes killing babies in utero.
If I were queen of the world, I’d outlaw child killing at all stages of pregnancy. Once a woman made the decision to have intercourse, her choices were made. The choice she has once a human being is growing inside her is to carry the baby to term, be a parent to him, or give him to an intact family.
Since I’m not queen of the world, the best I hope for is: 1) Roe is overturned; 2) people will give generously to pregnancy crisis centers that talk women out of killing their children and offer financial and psychological help. Most of all I hope: 3) churches make this a high priority issue; 4) Christ followers warn these lost women of the consequences of this and other sins and; 5) Christ followers tell them how to avoid God’s just punishment.
Operation Family Fund provides grants to injured military men and women and families injured or killed as part of the war on terrorism. The other day Dr. Laura shared a story. Someone who volunteers at the organization told her other groups that help military families have long since run out of funds. Operation Family Fund is their last hope. As expected, they’re overwhelmed with grant requests and could use our help. Whatever you can give, give.
The bad economic is affecting us all, but I will do what I can to help the injured and their families, men and women who sacrificed themselves while I sit here in comfort, relatively safe and free to do whatever I want to do. We read the headlines, but unless we have a loved one in harm’s way, we don’t think about what’s going on overseas every day.
I always thought service men and women injured in the line of duty were “taken care of” somehow. I had no clue that some of these people are essentially abandoned by our government. If you can, give. Contact Operation Family Fund.
OK, Facebook and Twitter can be time-hogs. But I’m finding them to be valuable sources for information and networking (virtual and in the flesh). I’ve disabled comments on this blog mainly because I don’t have the time or patience to monitor them anymore. The lack of discussion gives the blog a soapbox quality; for now, that suits me just fine.
But…what I miss in feedback here I make up for on Facebook, Twitter, and to a lesser extent, MySpace. If you’re reluctant to try these social networking sites, you should overcome your skepticism. I did. With no regrets.
Friend me on Facebook, where I’ve made over 1,000 professional and personal connections. Follow me on Twitter for blogging/writing topics, news links, other resources, and tidbits about my excruciatingly exciting life. Or don’t follow me. Follow others! And finally, if you’re a solo artist or in a band, let’s connect on MySpace. Why friend me? I enjoy blogging/writing about music and plan to do more. If I really like your sound, I’ll blog about you and try to convince editors to publish my stories about you.
I’m embarrassed to admit I only recently heard of Joel Rosenberg, a Jewish evangelical Christian who writes biblical speculative political thrillers in the “what if” fashion. I haven’t read his novels, yet, but I’m fascinated by his non-fiction book (can’t put it down!), Epicenter: Why the Current Rumblings in the Middle East will Change Your Future. (Israel is the epicenter of the world, Jerusalem is the epicenter of Israel, and the Temple Mount is the epicenter of Jerusalem.)
Rosenberg’s novels seem to stay one step ahead of events in the Middle East. In fact, some call him a modern-day Nostradamus. For example, the day Islamofacists flew airplanes into the World Trade Center towers, the Pentagon, and a field in Pennsylvania, Rosenberg was working on a novel about Islamofacists attacking an American city.
He’s not a genius or a psychic; he reads and understands biblical prophecy.
In Epicenter, Rosenberg tells the story of how he came to write fiction based on biblical prophecies. In 1992, he read Coming Peace in the Middle East, by Tim LaHaye of Left Behind fame. The book was about the future rise of a military alliance between Iran and Russia and a period of peace and prosperity in Israel. As Rosenberg notes, the former seemed ludicrous. In the early 1990s, the Soviet Union was no more. With its missiles dismantled, it was hardly a threat to anyone, especially Israel. Where did Tim LaHaye get such an idea?
Allow me to digress. Even if you only scan defense news headlines, you know Russia is resurgent, and something’s brewing between the former Soviet Union and Iran. Additionally, the U.S. has signed agreements with Poland and the Czech Republic to build missile defense shields in those countries to protect them if Iran attacks. Russia has threatened to deploy missiles to the Polish border if the U.S. continues its course of action. So far, President Barack Obama, unlike President George Bush, appears ready to appease Russia.
I’ll bet you didn’t know Cold War II was underway, did you? I ghost-blog about missile defense, so I’m knee-deep in the muck.
Back to Rosenberg. People are accustomed to analyzing world events through the lenses of economics and politics, he says. But there’s a third lens we can’t afford to ignore: Scripture. Bible-believing and reading Christians know what God teaches about the fate of Israel and her enemies. God promised that Israel would become a nation again, and a prosperous one, and that’s exactly what happened. In 1948, after 2,000 years of dispersal, the State of Israel was established. Jews from all over the world poured into their homeland. The nation is rebuilding former desolate cities and has become wealthy.
Ezekiel prophesied that Israel would be wealthier than even King Solomon. LaHaye speculated that Israel would discover oil. Rosenberg thought it was ridiculous, but in 2000, LaHaye’s prediction came true.
Much, much more to say on this, of course, but I want you to read it for yourselves. Looking through the lenses of economics, politics, and Scripture, Rosenberg lays out and analyzes ten future headlines about events in the Middle East. He isn’t the first to look to Scripture to understand world events, of course, but his foreign policy experience and engaging writing style makes it all the more…interesting, to use a generic word. Buy a copy of Epicenter today.
Update: More stories like this, please: Tass Saada, a former Muslim and hater of Jews and Christians, was redeemed by the blood of the Lamb. (Hat tip: Digital Karen via Twitter)
Anyone who’s read my blog for a while (or the About page) knows I loathe the term “African American.” It’s not a proper way to describe black Americans. I think it’s inaccurate, insulting, and a poor attempt to connect with a lost past. (Also see a post titled, “African-American Canadians.”)
Let me tell you how much I dislike the term. I’m so pleased when white people call me black (when the racial reference fits the context) instead of African American, I have to suppress the urge to give them a big old fat kiss on the cheek.
Somehow I doubt Jennifer Mabry and I see eye-to-eye on much else, but we are one when it comes to the hyphen:
“I’m brown, thank you. But I’ll settle for black. It’s more than semantics. It’s semasiology. Once upon a time, we were niggers, coloreds, Negroes and then Afro-Americans. And so I understand the need for some blacks to refer to themselves as African-American, sort of. They want to feel connected to a population reflected in their own faces.
…
“I am constantly searching for answers as to how my café-au-lait self fits into an overwhelmingly white world. But the use of the word African conjoined with American leaves me empty. There are 54 countries in Africa. Which one would be mine?
“I have a friend whose father is Nigerian and mother is black American, which makes her literally African-American. But she refers to herself as black.
“I’m American. Period. I’ve never been to Africa. I hope to visit one day, but I also want to visit Europe. Not because I have the blood of English, Irish and Scots running through my veins, but because I’m interested in traveling to new places, seeing and experiencing new cultures and people.”
Some black Americans have a ridiculously romanticized view of the African continent. (Blame it on the movies.) Mabry addresses that, too. Check it out.
It’s so darn refreshing to know other black people agree with me on this African American nonsense. Few and far between, though…
Abortion mills sure love the “choice” afforded women and girls in this country. In fact, they’re so eager to suck out that fetus, they forget to do things like call the police after minors tell them adult males impregnated them. They’re so hot for death, they fail to protect vulnerable young girls. Obeying the law is a pain in the butt sometimes. Or in this case, a pain in the gut.
UCLA student and pro-life activist Lila Rose of Live Action Films has caught on tape an abortion mill worker encouraging who she believes is a 15-year-old girl not to bring her 27-year-old “boyfriend” to a hearing required to waive parental consent to kill her baby. Does the nurse report the rape? No.
The abortion mill supposedly is investigating the situation. It’s investigating itself. Very useful! “We are conducting an internal, fact-based review to ensure that all our high standards of care and legal obligations have been met,” wrote Rachel Chánes, vice president of community services for Planned Parenthood Arizona.
Yeah, whatever.
In 2002, a judge found Planned Parenthood of Arizona negligent for failing to report the rape of a 13-year-old girl by her 23-year-old foster brother. You won’t believe this, but he brought her to the clinic to have the baby killed. Planned Parenthood’s silence led to continued abuse and a second abortion six months later.
Most ironically, Arizona’s top cop, Attorney General Terry Goddard, is scheduled to deliver the keynote speech at an event sponsored by Planned Parenthood. The highest prosecuting official in the state is speaking at an event financed by an organization that breaks state law covering up the rape of young girls. Nice. His mother must be proud.
Christians aren’t supposed to wish that certain people were going to hell or to show hostility in public, lest it might ruin our testimonies and/or turn people away from Christ. At the risk of ruining mine and repelling the unrepentant, let me say publicly on this blog that I wish something very, very bad happens to the heartless idiots involved in throwing away a living baby born during a “botched” abortion. (Source)
I’m late on this, and you probably know the facts. An 18-year-old exercised her “right” to kill her unborn child. Sycloria Williams was 22 (or 23, depending on the source) weeks pregnant. She’d met with the “doctor” days before, and he gave her drugs to dilate her cervix for an easier kill. The next day she went to a clinic for the slaughter. She was given meds to induce labor.
Five hours later, with no abortionist present, she gave birth to a girl. Employee Belkis Gonzalez (Oh, the language I want to use right now!) cut the umbilical cord and didn’t clamp it. I read somewhere that the baby was writhing and struggling to breathe. Good Lord. Gonzalez put the living child into a biohazard bag that contained a “caustic chemical.” You can read the rest. I’m trying not to lose my religion.
It doesn’t matter whether a 23-week-old fetus is viable. The point is there was chance for that baby to live. Former labor and delivery nurse and blogger Jill Stanek has more.
Blah, blah, blah, the doctor didn’t have a medical license. He was sued for medical malpractice. Frankly, I don’t care. Here’s what I don’t get: Williams went to the clinic for an abortion, but she’s now suing her abortionist for murdering her child. Wait…what? So if the killer had torn the baby to pieces vacuuming her out of the womb and rinsing her down a sink, that wouldn’t have been murder? Murder committed in the womb is choice, but murder committed outside the womb is…?
(Pictured: baby at 23 weeks)
This child killing is a bad business, to understate it, and I’m sickened every time I hear the freaking word choice in the context of this heinous act. Yeah, I know I’m supposed to say, “May God have mercy on your soul” or share the Gospel with these lost souls or something sweet like that. But you know what? I’m going to spend the next few hours imagining these people stuttering before God as they try to explain themselves.
I, too, am a sinner and undeserving of God’s forgiveness. But God saw fit to send his Son Jesus Christ to bear the punishment for my sins. Because of his blood, I won’t get what I deserve. Perhaps he’ll have mercy on the fools involved in this case. Sin is sin.
Why did he choose me? I don’t know. I’ll ask him one day.
Addendum: A Twitter follower writes: “Deut 27:25 ‘Cursed is the man who accepts a bribe to kill an innocent person.’ – No need for us to wish bad for them.”
A couple weeks ago, a Los Angeles Times reporter contacted me for a feature on Black History Month. She said she was looking for a “range of L.A. personalities” for quotes about Obama and BHM. I was to be the “independent conservative voice.”
I was delighted to know I’m considered an L.A. personality, as I’ve been here only three months. No matter what comes my way as a result of this blog, I’m always surprised. “But I’m just a blogger,” I always say. “Why do they want to talk to me?
Regardless, it’s nice to be included. Check out the main link here and my quotes here. (Keeps changing. Just scroll through. Man, I need a professional headshot!) I was asked several questions; one was about “diversity,” and those quotes were published.
Several months ago, a New York Times reporter interviewed me for about an hour, and not a single quote of mine made it into the article. It’s happened to me before…not saying what the reporter wants to hear and not making the story. My efforts paid off this time.
One of my Facebook friends tagged me in this meme. Here goes:
1. I’m afraid of heights and large bodies of water. Standing too close to either makes my knees weak. (I have a similar reaction merely thinking about it.)
2. Although I love to write and believe God’s purpose for me at this (unmarried) time is to glorify him and build the Kingdom through the written word, writing would become a distant second to a husband and children.
3. In high school, I fancied myself a non-clique-belonging rebel, but my clique was one of the most popular in the school.
4. I consider eating a necessary chore. It’s not that I don’t enjoy food; I just don’t like to stop whatever I’m doing to eat. I do it mainly to keep my stomach from growling.
5. “Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory” is one of my top ten favorite movies. (Come with me and you’ll be in a world of pure imagination…)
6. I’m working on a novel about a vampire seeking “Christian” redemption. I envision it as a three-book series, and I know exactly how it ends.
7. I’ve always thought I’d die from a heart attack.
8. I’ve always liked the name “Matilda.”
9. If I have children, I want all boys. Sorry, Matilda!
10. When learning to drive at 14, I had to do it with my shoes off.
11. The happiest moments of my life were road-tripping with my family as a child. I don’t think I’ll ever feel that secure again.
12. I used to make fun of Christians behind their backs.
13. I’m very attracted to Giovanni Ribisi, and I don’t know why.
14. I’m very attracted to Bokeem Woodbine, and I don’t know why.
15. I want to be Hanson’s assistant tour manager. (They’ve got a Superwoman of a manager [Go, Bex!], and I know she could use the help!)
17. I wear a chastity ring on my left ring finger that reads “True Love.” I think it’s cool.
18. When I was 14, I was enamored with Lady Diana Spencer, who became the Princess of Wales. She was only five or six years older than I was, and I used to imitate her shy glance…although I wasn’t remotely shy.
19. I hated having siblings (two sisters and a brother) growing up, but now I’m grateful every day I wasn’t an only child.
20. I’m a closet anglophile who loves British mysteries (books, TV, and film).
21. Hot tea made from black tea leaves nauseates me.
22. I’ve always wanted to be flat-chested. I have a rather large chest and short waist, and trying to avoid looking top-heavy in clothes is a pain.
23. I saw my 10-year-old niece being born. I was overwhelmed by the miracle.
24. I want to interview musicians and actors, well-known and not-so-well-known, and get them to open up about what they believe about God and why.
25. Just once before I die, I’d like to walk the red carpet at the premiere of a movie based on my novel/screenplay.
Ken Rance is a cousin of one of my sister’s friends. He wrote a screenplay about a “white collar” black woman who falls in love with a “blue color” black man. “32 & Single” became the movie “New in Town,” with Harry Connick, Jr., and Renee Zellweger in the leading roles. You may have noticed that neither Connick nor Zellweger are black.
I wondered why Rance would allow such a significant change to his work. I was hoping this interview would delve more into his reasons. At one point, he seemed to balk at changing the characters’ race, but apparently things changed:
“It is my story, but the story can be told with different nuances. … There wasn’t that much change, but I never set out to write a movie about race. She (Monica Tate, the lead in the original script) just happens to be an African-American female. In the spirit of Barack Obama it shows that black writers can write universal stories. A lot of our stories are so tragic, but our stories are more vast and diverse than that. There are other stories out there.”
To answer the question, “Because of the money!” would be rather cynical, yes? What are the odds of selling a screenplay and seeing it made into a movie, no matter what color you are? It must be doubly difficult if you’re black. Let’s be honest. From trying to sell screenplays to auditioning for a handful of roles to proving yourself behind the camera and in the corporate office, it’s not an easy road for blacks in Hollywood.
Imagine yourself in Rance’s situation. Someone wants to buy your work and make your movie, which no doubt will open doors and build your network of people in the business who can help get subsequent movies off the ground. But there’s a catch.
Is changing the race (sex, religion, nationality, etc.) of your main characters a small price to pay?
The web has changed the way we do so many things, especially the way we consume news. The video below is a 1981 news story about reading newspapers online. It’s quaint, and there’s a sci-fi quality about it. Several newspapers engaged in a then-time consuming task of putting print news stories online. Check out those computers! (In fact, technology changes so fast that computers made at the turn of the century look ancient. Then again, that was almost a decade ago…)
David Cole of the San Francisco Examiner describes his paper’s experiment. They were trying to “figure out what it’s going to mean to us as editors and reporters and what it means to the home user. And we’re not in it to make money…We’re probably not going to lose a lot [either]…”
Man. Little did they know. Good thing they weren’t in it to make money. The world wide web caused newspapers to lose money as print readership dropped and advertisers went online. Laid-off editors and reporters and former owners of shuttered newspapers owe their downturn to the computer.
In 2007, I wrote this about Rosanna Pulido, head of the Illinois Chapter of You Don’t Speak for Me, a vocal group of Hispanics opposed to illegal immigration:
“Rosanna Pulido reminds me of me…She’s a woman, a racial ‘minority,’ a member of a so-called ‘disenfranchised,’ preferred, and protected group, [some of whom engage in] a myriad of disingenuous yet highly effective justifications to rely on skin color to get by in life and excuse the acts of badly behaving members of her racial group.”
I started writing for publication in 2002 and blogging in 2003, and I’ve had more than my share of nasty e-mails, 99 percent of which were ad hominem. Fortunately, I was not deterred by the “self-hater,” “race traitor,” “Aunt Jemima,” and “coon” epithets. Being called names made me more determined and more rebellious. Rarely did someone write to me attacking my arguments. When I did receive those e-mails, I read them carefully and learned how to strengthen my own positions.
I don’t blog as much about politics these days not because I’m intimidated. I’m just bored by it. There’s more going on in the world, and I want to write about it. The archives are here for the world to see, and I stand by every post.
Back to Rosanna Pulido. No doubt she’s received similar e-mail. It’s tough being a “voice in the wilderness” and having the guts to call a thing by its name. I can’t stand euphemistic talk or mealy-mouth attitudes or people who’re afraid to tell the truth.
I read the novel Push when it was published over 10 years ago. I wasn’t heavily into fiction and wasn’t drawn to novels like this one, but the intriguingly simple title caught my attention. I skimmed the first couple of pages and decided to check it out.
The novel is about an overweight, HIV-positive black teenaged girl named Precious Jones, pregnant for the second time with her father’s child. (Her first child has Down syndrome.) Yucky, I know, but it gets worse. Her crazy mother is molesting her. Precious is a rough-around-the-edges, foul-mouthed, inner-city (Harlem) girl who uses bad grammar and mispronounces words. She talks back and curses at teachers. She can’t read but likes “maff.” If I recall correctly, Precious was suspended from school and sent to an alterative school. She meets a teacher who helps her learn how to read, and her attitude changes.
Once you get past the character’s defensive, stereotypical attitude, and vulgar language (yeah, I know…why bother?), the book becomes absorbing. The book ends with Precious, who so far as lived a chaotic, pitiful life, is feeling joyful because she’s doing something as ordinary as drinking hot chocolate at a café with girls who care about her. She’s “alive inside,” and her degenerate parents haven’t broken her spirit.
I think I either cried or was close to tears as I read the last few pages. A used and abused young girl who initially saw no value in herself becames a cared-about person, and it made all the difference. The theme is about pushing oneself: to improve, to get out in the world, to do the right thing, etc.
Push was made into a movie and won the grand prize at the 2009 Sundance Film Festival. It stars Gabourey ‘Gabby’ Sidibe as Precious, Mo’Nique as her mother, Paula Patton as the caring teacher, and Lenny Kravitz (!) as a nurse.
I don’t know how the movie handles the book, but either way, the subject matter is awful. The redeeming factor about Push is that it shows how the human spirit fights to survive (and thrive) even in the midst of unspeakable pain. That’s what I got from it.
Embarrassing doesn’t quite capture the essence of what you end up doing and saying when you’re sloshed. I should know. I spent 12 years trying to stay sloshed. Some people can handle alcohol. I can’t ever go there again.
E. Curtissa Cofield, a judge in Hartford, Connecticut, “showed out,” as we say in the vernacular, at a police station following a drunk driving arrest. Cofield’s black, and I mention her race because it’s relevant. She referred to Sgt. Dwight Washington, who is black, as “Negro trooper” and “head nigger in charge” as he questioned her. He asked if she was ill, and she said her illness was “Negro-itis” and that she needed “anti-Negro” medication, and on and on. It’s pretty bad. Read the rest for yourselves.
Cofield obviously has drinking and self-image problems. Alcohol does lower inhibitions, and apparently Cofield has issues with being black and, in her drunken state, with blacks in authority who’re merely doing their jobs.
Thank the sweet Lord above my antics were not caught on tape (that I know of!), and I was never arrested for drunk driving. In March I’ll celebrate 12 years of sobriety. There, but for the grace of God, as they say. While I was drinking, I gazed into the future and saw myself as a 50-year-old drunk. It may be cute to be tipsy all the time in your 20s (extended adolescence and all that), but a middle-aged drunk? Nothing cute about that. I set a goal to stop drinking by the time I was 30. Two months shy of my birthday, I gave up the bottle.
Judge Cofield is 60 years old. Perhaps she gets drunk only twice a year. This may be a fluke. (Here’s a video of Cofield in a sober state.) Regardless, the video is an indication of how she handles alcohol. Badly. Just say no to the booze!
If I were queen of the world, I’d outlaw child killing at all stages of pregnancy. Once a woman made the decision to have intercourse, her choices were made. The choice she has once a human being is growing inside her is to carry the baby to term, be a parent to him, or give him to an intact family.
If radio show host 
Let me tell you how much I dislike the term. I’m so pleased when white people call me black (when the racial reference fits the context) instead of African American, I have to suppress the urge to give them a big old fat kiss on the cheek.
“I’m brown, thank you. But I’ll settle for black. It’s more than semantics. It’s semasiology. Once upon a time, we were niggers, coloreds, Negroes and then Afro-Americans. And so I understand the need for some blacks to refer to themselves as African-American, sort of. They want to feel connected to a population reflected in their own faces.
In 2002, a judge found Planned Parenthood of Arizona negligent for failing to report the rape of a 13-year-old girl by her 23-year-old foster brother. You won’t believe this, but he brought her to the clinic to have the baby killed. Planned Parenthood’s silence led to continued abuse and a second abortion six months later.
3. In high school, I fancied myself a non-clique-belonging rebel, but my clique was one of the most popular in the school. 
6. I’m working on a novel about a vampire seeking “Christian” redemption. I envision it as a three-book series, and I know exactly how it ends.
16. I wish I looked like 
20. I’m a closet anglophile who loves British mysteries (books, TV, and film).
Ken Rance is a cousin of one of my sister’s friends. He wrote a screenplay about a “white collar” black woman who falls in love with a “blue color” black man. “32 & Single” became the movie “
In 2007, I wrote this about 
I read the novel 
I think I either cried or was close to tears as I read the last few pages. A used and abused young girl who initially saw no value in herself becames a cared-about person, and it made all the difference. The theme is about pushing oneself: to improve, to get out in the world, to do the right thing, etc.
Embarrassing doesn’t quite capture the essence of what you end up doing and saying when you’re sloshed. I should know. I spent 12 years trying to stay sloshed. Some people can handle alcohol. 