These are the demands of the Occupy Wall Street (bowel) Movement as posted on their website:
Demand one: Restoration of the living wage. This demand can only be met by ending “Freetrade” by re-imposing trade tariffs on all imported goods entering the American market to level the playing field for domestic family farming and domestic manufacturing as most nations that are dumping cheap products onto the American market have radical wage and environmental regulation advantages. Another policy that must be instituted is raise the minimum wage to twenty dollars an hr.
Demand two: Institute a universal single payer healthcare system. To do this all private insurers must be banned from the healthcare market as their only effect on the health of patients is to take money away from doctors, nurses and hospitals preventing them from doing their jobs and hand that money to wall st. investors.
Demand three: Guaranteed living wage income regardless of employment.
Demand four: Free college education.
Demand five: Begin a fast track process to bring the fossil fuel economy to an end while at the same bringing the alternative energy economy up to energy demand.
Demand six: One trillion dollars in infrastructure (Water, Sewer, Rail, Roads and Bridges and Electrical Grid) spending now.
Demand seven: One trillion dollars in ecological restoration planting forests, reestablishing wetlands and the natural flow of river systems and decommissioning of all of America’s nuclear power plants.
Demand eight: Racial and gender equal rights amendment.
Demand nine: Open borders migration. anyone can travel anywhere to work and live.
Demand ten: Bring American elections up to international standards of a paper ballot precinct counted and recounted in front of an independent and party observers system.
Demand eleven: Immediate across the board debt forgiveness for all. Debt forgiveness of sovereign debt, commercial loans, home mortgages, home equity loans, credit card debt, student loans and personal loans now! All debt must be stricken from the “Books.” World Bank Loans to all Nations, Bank to Bank Debt and all Bonds and Margin Call Debt in the stock market including all Derivatives or Credit Default Swaps, all 65 trillion dollars of them must also be stricken from the “Books.” And I don’t mean debt that is in default, I mean all debt on the entire planet period.
Demand twelve: Outlaw all credit reporting agencies.
Demand thirteen: Allow all workers to sign a ballot at any time during a union organizing campaign or at any time that represents their yeah or nay to having a union represent them in collective bargaining or to form a union.
These demands will create so many jobs it will be completely impossible to fill them without an open borders policy.
===========================================
GR4U - These idiots want all the conveniences of living in a 21st century First World nation with none of the individual responsibilities associated with such a society!
Wednesday
Thursday
Stocking up taken to a whole new level
My eldest son, his pregnant wife, and his infant daughter moved back into my house a few weeks ago. What can I say - sign of the times!
Having just finished reading Mark Steyn's After America, which includes an in depth look into declining Western birthrates contrasted starkly with rising Islamic and African birthrates, it occurred to me that I'm actually in the process of stocking up on Americans.
Having just finished reading Mark Steyn's After America, which includes an in depth look into declining Western birthrates contrasted starkly with rising Islamic and African birthrates, it occurred to me that I'm actually in the process of stocking up on Americans.
Here's the proof!
Friday
I just found an old friend
About 30 years ago I was a young Marine who had managed to make some bad decisions and gotten myself in trouble with the Corps. Being relieved from duty at the American Embassy in Kingston Jamaica, I was transferred to Beaufort SC and stuck in an office.
The Marines (as I assume is true of the other services) have a very long memory. If you ever screw up - it's never forgotten. There's an old saying: One aww shit wipes out a hundred attaboys. But in the service, one aww shit tends to wipe out all past AND future attaboys! And so I checked in to a new duty station and found myself very nearly a pariah among my "brother" Marines.
However there was a crusty old Staff Sergeant who watched me for a time, took my measure as a Marine, and decided that I was one of the good guys. He took me under his wing made me feel like I was still part of the team. That is NOT to say he coddled me. Far from it! He was a demanding hardass who had no compunctions about straightening out human error by getting loud and in your face. But he evaluated a man on his conduct in the here-and-now, as opposed to what one had done in the dim misty past.
For the record, my "crime" was to have a woman in the Marine House - a woman I eventually married and had two kids with. The Corps can be quite prudish you see.
Ssgt Dennis Hendry had once been a drill instructor on Parris Island. His tour of duty was not successful and he was - like me - relieved from this highly prestigious duty. I suppose that's why he tended to identity with me. He was destined to remain forever a Staff Sergeant, just as I was destined to never progress beyond the rank of Sergeant (and it took a ridiculous 3 years as a Corporal to get THAT far)
I don't know the circumstances of his relief from the drill field. I imagine his drinking problem played a role, though I have no direct knowledge that it did. By the time I knew Dennis in 1981, he had been off the drill field for a couple of years, and his drinking could well have been the result of his feelings about being relieved.
I do however know the circumstances of how Dennis handled himself in the office where I worked with him. He took care of his people! He was a Marine Staff NCO and those young enlisted Marines belonged to him. They looked to him for leadership - and he gave it. During working hours Dennis was all business and all Marine.
After working hours ... well... he came down among the troops and comported himself as one of them.
He knew that I loved to hunt, and that I had a personal rifle stored in the armory. So one Friday he asked me if I want to go hunting with him. Sure!
Shortly after working hours he picked me up at the barracks and we drove to Yemasee SC. Even though it was only an hour or so after we got off work, Dennis was already pretty well sloshed. That was a car ride I will never forget!
Arriving at a little isolated fishcamp / bar out in the South Carolina boonies, it was instantly apparent that a) Dennis was a regular patron, and b) hunting was NOT the primary purpose of our mission. For the next several hours we drank, played pool and socialized. As the night slipped away into the wee hours of the morning, and it was clear we were going to "close the joint", I began to seriously wonder where I would be laying my weary head.
Closing time did indeed come, and Dennis and I were escorted out the back by one of the bar matrons to a one room cabin that she occupied. I'm no shrinking violet, but I really did NOT want to assist my drunken boss in his coming carnal episode with this ... woman!
Inside I was shown the floor at the foot of the bed, and handed a rolled up towel for a pillow. Dennis flopped on the bed with his new friend, and the lights went out. To say I was uncomfortable on a variety of levels really wouldn't be doing it justice. I expected any moment to hear the symphony of dueling bedsprings accompanied by the sound of the beast with two backs.
There were some indistinguishable sounds, some muttering, and then a loud exclamation: "What? You ain't gonna gimmie no head?! Well F*uck you then!" In less than a second (it seemed) there was loud snoring to be heard and I was free to settle down somewhat restfully for the remainder of the night.
Being a natural early riser, I was awake at a hunting-appropriate early hour, and so I got up and flicked on the light (being somewhat trepidatious about what exactly I would see). My bleary eyes beheld a buck naked Staff sergeant spread-eagled and occupying 90% of the bed; his previous evening's temporary girlfriend forced to the very edge.
I slapped him on the foot, we got dressed, and hit the door in under a minute. I marveled at the man's ability to get moving apparently so effortlessly under the conditions of so little sleep and so much booze. But Dennis showed no signs of being discomfited. In fact, I'm pretty sure he was still drunk.
On foot we crossed the highway in front of the fishcamp / bar and set out down a dirt road for a short distance - me with a .30-30, and Dennis with a 12 gauge shotgun.
Maybe five minutes down the road an old cow bird rose up from a ditch off to our left and to my amazement Dennis shot at it.
He missed.
Not knowing what to say (remember he's my boss) I stood there noting the look of disappointment on his face. In a moment his remark was "Hell... there ain't no deer 'round here no how".
Without another word he turned around and led us back up the road, across the highway, and back into the now open bar. I think you know how the rest of this tale plays out.
Yes... Dennis was a character alright. I recognized his faults, but they were truly overshadowed by his good qualities. It was with genuine sadness that I rec'd the news of his death about four years later. His drinking mixed with his driving just one time too many, and he wrapped his car around a South Carolina oak tree.
Today he lies in the shade of another South Carolina oak tree in the Beaufort National Cemetery.
Rest in peace Staff Sergeant Hendry
Semper Fi my friend
The Marines (as I assume is true of the other services) have a very long memory. If you ever screw up - it's never forgotten. There's an old saying: One aww shit wipes out a hundred attaboys. But in the service, one aww shit tends to wipe out all past AND future attaboys! And so I checked in to a new duty station and found myself very nearly a pariah among my "brother" Marines.
However there was a crusty old Staff Sergeant who watched me for a time, took my measure as a Marine, and decided that I was one of the good guys. He took me under his wing made me feel like I was still part of the team. That is NOT to say he coddled me. Far from it! He was a demanding hardass who had no compunctions about straightening out human error by getting loud and in your face. But he evaluated a man on his conduct in the here-and-now, as opposed to what one had done in the dim misty past.
For the record, my "crime" was to have a woman in the Marine House - a woman I eventually married and had two kids with. The Corps can be quite prudish you see.
Ssgt Dennis Hendry had once been a drill instructor on Parris Island. His tour of duty was not successful and he was - like me - relieved from this highly prestigious duty. I suppose that's why he tended to identity with me. He was destined to remain forever a Staff Sergeant, just as I was destined to never progress beyond the rank of Sergeant (and it took a ridiculous 3 years as a Corporal to get THAT far)
I don't know the circumstances of his relief from the drill field. I imagine his drinking problem played a role, though I have no direct knowledge that it did. By the time I knew Dennis in 1981, he had been off the drill field for a couple of years, and his drinking could well have been the result of his feelings about being relieved.
I do however know the circumstances of how Dennis handled himself in the office where I worked with him. He took care of his people! He was a Marine Staff NCO and those young enlisted Marines belonged to him. They looked to him for leadership - and he gave it. During working hours Dennis was all business and all Marine.
After working hours ... well... he came down among the troops and comported himself as one of them.
He knew that I loved to hunt, and that I had a personal rifle stored in the armory. So one Friday he asked me if I want to go hunting with him. Sure!
Shortly after working hours he picked me up at the barracks and we drove to Yemasee SC. Even though it was only an hour or so after we got off work, Dennis was already pretty well sloshed. That was a car ride I will never forget!
Arriving at a little isolated fishcamp / bar out in the South Carolina boonies, it was instantly apparent that a) Dennis was a regular patron, and b) hunting was NOT the primary purpose of our mission. For the next several hours we drank, played pool and socialized. As the night slipped away into the wee hours of the morning, and it was clear we were going to "close the joint", I began to seriously wonder where I would be laying my weary head.
Closing time did indeed come, and Dennis and I were escorted out the back by one of the bar matrons to a one room cabin that she occupied. I'm no shrinking violet, but I really did NOT want to assist my drunken boss in his coming carnal episode with this ... woman!
Inside I was shown the floor at the foot of the bed, and handed a rolled up towel for a pillow. Dennis flopped on the bed with his new friend, and the lights went out. To say I was uncomfortable on a variety of levels really wouldn't be doing it justice. I expected any moment to hear the symphony of dueling bedsprings accompanied by the sound of the beast with two backs.
There were some indistinguishable sounds, some muttering, and then a loud exclamation: "What? You ain't gonna gimmie no head?! Well F*uck you then!" In less than a second (it seemed) there was loud snoring to be heard and I was free to settle down somewhat restfully for the remainder of the night.
Being a natural early riser, I was awake at a hunting-appropriate early hour, and so I got up and flicked on the light (being somewhat trepidatious about what exactly I would see). My bleary eyes beheld a buck naked Staff sergeant spread-eagled and occupying 90% of the bed; his previous evening's temporary girlfriend forced to the very edge.
I slapped him on the foot, we got dressed, and hit the door in under a minute. I marveled at the man's ability to get moving apparently so effortlessly under the conditions of so little sleep and so much booze. But Dennis showed no signs of being discomfited. In fact, I'm pretty sure he was still drunk.
On foot we crossed the highway in front of the fishcamp / bar and set out down a dirt road for a short distance - me with a .30-30, and Dennis with a 12 gauge shotgun.
Maybe five minutes down the road an old cow bird rose up from a ditch off to our left and to my amazement Dennis shot at it.
He missed.
Not knowing what to say (remember he's my boss) I stood there noting the look of disappointment on his face. In a moment his remark was "Hell... there ain't no deer 'round here no how".
Without another word he turned around and led us back up the road, across the highway, and back into the now open bar. I think you know how the rest of this tale plays out.
Yes... Dennis was a character alright. I recognized his faults, but they were truly overshadowed by his good qualities. It was with genuine sadness that I rec'd the news of his death about four years later. His drinking mixed with his driving just one time too many, and he wrapped his car around a South Carolina oak tree.
Today he lies in the shade of another South Carolina oak tree in the Beaufort National Cemetery.
Rest in peace Staff Sergeant Hendry
Semper Fi my friend
Wednesday
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