Monthly Archives: October 2012

Bishop’s Folly by Guido Volante

Bishop’s Folly by Guido Volante

Goblins and ghosts, black cats, fanged bats, witches and their brews, zombies and all. A good scare now and then does us no harm.

As told by Andrew G. MacDonald

We lived in an area called Bishop’s Folly. I still do. When I was a young man I had little to do with things religious owing mostly to my family home life. I was the oldest of 4 boys and one girl, the youngest. We were share croppers, but had a henhouse, two hogs and a milk cow. We never lacked for hearty food but money was as scarce as catfish ears. Father was up before dawn seven days a week, plowing, planting, mending fences, picking crops or going to Market, depending on the season. Mother was up before him, prepared a hearty breakfast, laid out dad’s clean, pressed shirt and trousers, brushed the mud from his boots, and had already fed the chickens and slopped the pigs when we all sat down for breakfast, in various states of sleepy disorder. As the oldest, it was my job to milk the cow before breakfast every morning. When father died I was almost 16; next came the twins, Michael and Maxwell, 13½, brother Jethroe, 12, and sweet, precocious little Emmy, only 9. He seemed indestructible, weathered face and gnarly hands belying his young age. He was 39 years old when a massive heart attack took him while he was mending a fence on the land he farmed. We buried him on a rainy Thursday morning, April 12th, 1946, near the pond in Bishop’s Folly Cemetery. Mother didn’t cry that morning; she was all cried out from the night before…but we could hear her softly sobbing late that night and many nights thereafter. She was only 34. That Sunday we all went to church before breakfast. The following Sunday I stayed behind and did the chores when the rest went to pray and that’s the way it was from then on.

My school chum, Marc, lived with his family in the big white farm house with neat blue trim, about 300 yards up the road lined with Red Maple Trees. He had an older sister, Margo. The D’Mitri’s owned the land we farmed and a few hundred acres beyond; only a few were tilled and most set aside for deer and pheasant hunting in season. Mr. D’Mitri was a county judge and Mrs. D’Mitri did volunteer work at City Hall, located in the County Court House where Judge Aloysius D’Mitri held court.

My Story begins;

There was only a high crescent moon that could not account for the dawn-like glow all about us. Shadows seemed three dimensional and no visible light source caused their fall and barely perceptible movement. Three AM., and one could even make out the tombstone inscriptions as we cut through Bishop’s Folly Cemetery. We were coming from the main road, County Road 4, named County Road, that passes the stone quarry, before it winds down the mountain side into the valley across the tracks and continues towards Scythe, Hog’s Head, Marionville and Wheaton and among the sleeping villages and towns decorated with pumpkins and Jack O’Lanterns on a quiet Halloween night; it intersects with State Road 9 at the Southern edge of the County. There you would find Mercy Hospital, the usual florist’s shop, Jenner’s Feed and Hardware Store and Larry’s Diner, at the turnoff to SR 9.

Behind us, across County Road, the ivy covered, 15th century, steepled Presbyterian Church was framed by two large Sycamores and a stone archway at the entrance to Bishop’s Folly Cemetery. The gray stone Church was by far the oldest building in the county and there were no more than 20 head stones on the North side of the old church, which was originally called Bishop’s Folly Graveyard; folks say it’s haunted. The locals now refer to the general area as Bishop’s Folly.

Hoar frost was beginning to form on the grass beside the path, but the chill we felt in our bones came from within, not the cool October air. The frost on the stones in the pathway glinted like precious gems and added an additional crunch under our steps. We quickened our pace and looked neither left not right as we picked our way between weathered head stones and could not help but notice the freshly turned earth and wilting flowers with large marble marker on a low rise beneath a gnarled, sprawling Chestnut tree. Once a grave yard, now a cemetery, this burial place spanned nearly 300 years of life and death.

As youngsters this was the path home we often traveled after school, half running, stopping to throw a stone or two in the stream, scattering ducks and geese, but ever so slightly; our carefree intrusion on the serene surroundings barely raising a squawk or honk. I can still hear the laughter and voices of our youth as I reminisce and recount those early memories.

The new school building was built next to the Old School House and the town hadn’t gotten around to designating it as a historic site, even years after we graduated from the new building. It came up for lively discussion at every town meeting and one got the sense that if they ever made a decision and put the issue to rest they would have no further reason to hold meetings.

The school was not visible from the cemetery but the school bell could be heard twice a day, adding a touch of humanity to the otherwise quiet and secluded hillside cemetery. We weren’t prepared for the difference of being in the cemetery at 3 PM each school day and finding ourselves there at 3 AM., on October 31st, 1947.

Halloween Eve and Halloween Day came and went with the usual decorations, celebrations, costumed children with painted faces trick or treating, haunted houses and hay rides that ended with pumpkin pies, buckets of candy and an occasional tummy ache. A make believe world of animated skeletons, hooting owls and creaking doors, observed once a year to entertain, amuse and scare us just a bit, provides fond childhood memories full of fun and pranks passed from generation to generation. Little did I know how that day would end for me and my best friend, Marcus John D’Mitri.

All Hallows Eve, October 30, 1947.

In June, Marc got a brand new Country Sedan Chevrolet convertible for a graduation gift; the one with wood panels on the sides. It didn’t get any better than that. He started his freshman year at Stanford in September and drove home for the first time on Thursday, October 30, for a long weekend. Marc took to college life like a seasoned partygoer. He was blessed with a gift for academia and despite heroic drinking bouts, covert midnight raids on the girls’ dorm, and constant class cutting, his grades did not suffer. He dropped his laundry at home, stayed for an early dinner and was knocking on our door by 8 PM.

Now that I was done with school, farming was my full time occupation, but unlike my dad, who toted the barge alone, I had the help of my brothers, Michael, Maxwell and Jethroe. Amy was now a young lady at 11 and was already a great help to mom around the house and with the chores. We were glad to be able to lift some of the burden from mom’s shoulders so she could have some respite in her burdened life. It was not easy to be done with all the chores and be ready to hit the town with Marc by 8 PM. I would have stayed home and waited for trick or treaters with mom while my brothers and Amy went into town to do some trick or treating of their own, but I hadn’t seen Marc all summer and mom insisted that I go with him and enjoy myself for a change.

What a difference a month makes. Marc had only been at college a little over a month but the change it made in him was evident in his manner of speaking, a new boldness or confidence, even the way he walked. Marc was always full of mischief growing up and there was always an eagerness or willingness to break the rules. As a college freshman, and only a few weeks at that, his attitude became cocky and slightly irreverent. I couldn’t help notice that his manners toward my mom were overly polite and formal as if he were being introduced to a girl’s parents and didn’t want them to suspect what he had in mind for their daughter later…I’ve seen that side of Marc even before he went off to college; all the kids’ mothers liked Marc.

“Jump in” he said with a knowing smile, in a voice that suggested we were going to do something wicked. As soon as we cleared our driveway, still in first gear, Marc hit the accelerator and in less than a minute we turned off the street onto the side road that followed the tree lined perimeter of the cemetery, well known as lovers’ lane to the neighborhood teenagers. We skidded to a gravelly stop beside a hedge row on the downhill slope and Marc reached under his seat and came up with an unopened pint of Gilby’s Gin. Never lacking for good manners, he unscrewed the cap and offered me first dibs. “Have a swig old pal, we’re gonna have a good old time tonight! Remember Madeline Carey, the hot little number that was always hanging around after school? We’ve been in touch. She’s going trick or treating in town and when she gets home around 10 she’s going to go to her room and then sneak out to meet up with us. Some of our old pals are meeting later to have a little late Halloween fun.” He took a long drink after me, shook his head violently as he swallowed hard and said, “Let’s go!” in a barely audible, throaty whisper.

I was no “goody two shoes” but it occurred to me that “Maddie” was not much older than my kid sister, give or take. I happened to see her recently hanging out at Larry’s Diner with some friends and a couple of older guys, leaning on a very sharp, lowered 1940 Ford convertible with twin pipes and a shaved nose; not from around our neck of the woods. Again, what a difference a month makes. Actually I hadn’t seen her since I graduated high school in June; so three months. Maddie was still only a junior in High School, but as the saying goes, a little “old for her age”.

Marc backed the yellow Chevy out of the brush, dropped it in first and skidded down the hill, leaving a trail of flying gravel and a huge cloud of dust. He took a left onto County Road in front of the Church, squeaking his tires on the pavement as he quick shifted, and headed toward town. In minutes we arrived at Larry’s Diner and pulled up next to that same neat ‘40 Ford convertible. It was maroon with flame decals on the back fenders. “Who’s got the cherry bombs?” Marc joked as we approached a smoky booth crowded with strangers, including the two guys that came with the Ford. “What’re you doing here Marco? It’s Halloween! I thought you’d be out haunting houses and scaring little girls!” “That comes later Richie; meet my friend Andy”, Marc answered; and I never felt so uncomfortable and out of place before in my life. I didn’t even feel that I knew my childhood pal, Marc. This was a tough crowd and “Marco” was one of them. I noticed they called him Marco.

Everyone ordered cokes and Marc passed his pint around and we all spiked our sodas, emptying the pint. Marc offered, “There’s plenty more where that came from” and the next hour was just a blur. At 10:30 on the nose, Maddie sashayed into Larry’s with a girlfriend. My “blind date” was a class mate of Maddie’s, Geraldine. Batting her fake eyelashes, she told me to call her Geri. I undiplomatically asked if her mother knew where she was or did she sneak out too? When we left Larry’s “Geri” hopped in the Ford and cuddled up to the guy in the back seat. Marc said he would never fix me up again. I said “thanks”.

The other gals and guys at the table piled into a 1939 Buick Sedan, midnight blue with wide white wall tires, chrome spotlights, curb feelers and a visor over the windshield. Marc led the way back past Wheaton, Marion and Hog’s Head, stopping only to egg a few houses, ring a few door bells and hide. In one case, we came upon a big house with a wooden front porch. Jimmy, (the Buick) had a bag of horse manure in his trunk. He went up the four steps in a bound, emptied the manure by the front door, doused it with lighter fluid and set a match to it…As Jimmy rang the bell and banged on the door we all made Halloween noises as loud as we could, standing on the sidewalk across the street. The owner came out in a robe and slippers and immediately began to stomp the fire out, messing up his slippers and burning his feet. When he saw us laughing across the street he ran in the house and came out with a double barreled shot gun two seconds later. We ran for the cars and made a quick, not so slick getaway, not stopping until we were back at Bishop’s Folly and parked on lovers’ lane. We laughed till our sides hurt, had another drink and Marc asked me if I’d mind riding in the Buick so he and Maddie could be alone for a while and we’d meet later at Larry’s. I said sure, no problem but to my surprise Maddie wasn’t having any. She insisted it was too late and she wanted to be taken home before her folks found her gone. Words followed. Marc was angry and I think only because I was there he started the car, backed, then lurched up to the Buick, and said we were calling it a night. The Ford was parked behind us, top up, windows foggy. I don’t think they cared.

Burning as much rubber as he could, tires squealing, Marc raced toward Scythe to take Maddie home. I asked, and then told him to slow down. It was as if I wasn’t there. Maddie started to cry and said to please take it easy, she’d see him again soon and make it alright.

Marc reached under the seat, the Chevy swerving just a bit, and found another bottle of Gilby’s. He threw the cap over his shoulder and out of the convertible and we hit the tracks doing at least 60 miles an hour. The train was doing 70.

What happened next defies logic, common sense, physics or mortality. Three teenagers in a speeding car, far too much alcohol and hardly any brains against a speeding train; two survived without a scratch. Poor Maddie, old beyond her years and only 16, crushed in a frenzy of mangled steel and glass. I remember what happened next as in a dream sequence. I opened my eyes in time to see the train come to a spark flying, screeching, and death inviting halt.

I looked around. Marc lay not 20 feet from me, stirring slightly, but not awake. I peered through the smoke in the lights from the locomotive; what remained of the Chevy was not recognizable, only a twisted agony of crumpled steel straddled the tracks. And yet, there’s Maddie! She made it out! She’s OK! She’s not even bruised but she seems confused, poor thing. I rub my eyes; words will not come…An inexplicable feeling of awe comes over me; there in the distance a cylinder of light shining down from the sky…I’ve never seen such a light. A thousand times brighter than any light I’ve ever seen and yet it does not hurt my eyes. There are figures near the light, beckoning to Madeline…Why do I call her Madeline? The people from the light are so beautiful…they are smiling but they seem concerned. Madeline will not go with them. She takes several steps forward; all the while waving her hands as if to say no, no, no, don’t ask me to go with you. She stops, turns, turns once more and again waves off the beautiful people. Finally she turns and flees toward Scythe. I wonder how she can run so swiftly and gracefully, seeming not to touch the ground at all. Madeline is going home, I think to myself. I watch her disappear before I turn again toward the beautiful people. I want to know who they are and about a light from on high that fills me with awe…but when I turn the light is gone and the beautiful people are gone too. I seem to wake even more now, somehow more aware of my body and surroundings…It’s as though a feeling is returning to my legs and torso that I didn’t realize was gone…I was weightless and now I am not.

Marc is sitting up now, looking bewildered, feeling his legs and his head as if checking for broken bones. I ask if he’s alright. He nods. “Marc”, I say, “it’s a miracle we aren’t killed! Look at that wreck! How can anyone survive such an accident? It’s the hand of God!” Marc sneers at my words and half sobbing tells me that Maddie is in that twisted wreck. “Your God saved two idiots and let a 16 year old kid die? What kind of a God is that?” “No, no! Madeline is fine! She came out of the wreck somehow and ran home! Didn’t you see her? Did you see the light and all the people that wanted her to go with them? She kept refusing them, then turned and ran home like a deer! Madeline is fine I tell you!”

“Then tell me whose body they just removed from my car.”

I began to doubt my sanity. I began to wonder if I really survived the crash or if I was hallucinating. I decided then and there not to mention what I witnessed or dreamt to anyone, ever again.

It was almost 3 AM before we could go home. We answered questions, signed papers and begged the police not to take us to Mercy hospital. It took a lot of convincing to have them finally believe that we survived that crash. The police promised to contact us the following day and we declined a ride home, opting instead to walk our old route across County Road and up through Bishop’s Folly Cemetery at 3 AM, October 31st, 1947, Halloween Day.

We walked quietly at first, each of us deep in our own thoughts, perhaps beginning to realize more with each step what an extraordinary experience we had. Finally I asked Marc if he thought we should visit Madeline’s parents to tell them how sorry we were. Marc laughed in a derisive way and told me I was crazy. I said that God spared us that night and we should be forever in His debt. That we were blessed with a miracle and we should go to church and thank God on bended knee and ask for forgiveness…Marc became enraged. He shouted “there is no God you jerk! Only fools believe in a God! We were thrown clear by the impact and a 16 year old kid was killed! Is that the work of a God…or the rottenest luck that ever happened? My new car was totaled! What am I going to tell my father? What will my mother say? My life is ruined and you talk about God and asking him for forgiveness? If there is a God then let him strike me dead right now! I dare him! I double triple gazillion dare him to strike me dead as I stand here! I’ll stand on this dead guy’s grave so God can see me better. Now I beg him! If there is a God strike me dead! Look Andy, I’m still here. No God, nobody’s going to strike me dead or you! It’s just rotten luck! I’ll catch hell when I get home, you can believe that! Take that to the bank!”

We walked a little further. I prayed. I knew Marc was wrong and I was asking God to help him or help me to help him. I was asking God to help me. What took place this Hallows Eve? Why am I alive? What happened to Madeline? What did I see after the wreck that no one else took notice?

Finally I turned back to Marc. We were by the pond, at my father’s grave. I begged him to keep an open mind. I told him to explain the events of that horrible night and if he couldn’t to please don’t blaspheme. “Marc, you and I have been best friends since the 2nd grade. You’ve changed…or maybe you just grew up faster than me or different than me. But as God is my judge I love you as a friend and want only the best for you. We must make a pact; a sacred pact. I have to take care of my mom and brothers and sister. There’s no time or money for college and after tonight I want more than ever to be with my mom and brothers and sister and take care of them and feel their presence in my life. Everything happens for a reason. You’ll go off to school, your mom and the judge will forgive you, and you’ll get another car and in a few years you’ll be a lawyer and that will make your folks very happy. I hope it makes you happy too. I’ll never leave Bishop’s Folly. But one day our luck will run out or we’ll grow old and whatever, one day we will die, that’s for sure. I’m cutting my palm and I want you to cut yours and clasp our palms together and swear an oath that whoever dies first comes back, no matter what, to tell the other who is right. In death we will know if there is a God, as I believe there is a God with my whole soul and every fiber of my body; and you choose not to believe. Swear with me on all that is holy, sitting on this, my father’s grave, to come back and tell the other what we learn and may God have mercy on our souls.”

“Yeah, yeah, I swear. You’re an odd one Andy, anyone else and I’d write him off as a fruit cake. But I know you believe and mean what you say. So, Okay, I swear. If I die first, no matter what, I’ll come back and tell you that there’s nothing there! When I get home my folks will probably kill me and I’ll get back to you by tomorrow.”

Do you wonder if there is another world, truly sinister and frightening, where unhappy, lost spirits roam, existing in a dimension neither of this earth nor a final destination where souls may find peace and solace? Is there a dimension where condemned souls are transformed and take the shape of gargoyles, fiery dragons, mangy rabid dogs or wispy transparent images of their former selves, destined to roam the earth in search of peace they will never realize, forced to drag the chains of their mortal sins and misspent existences on earth? Is there a dimension where tortured souls spend eternity in the realm of Old Nick, in eternal fire with screeching serpents, where every path they choose is burning with flames licking at their open wounds?

Sit across from me that you will know from my expression that I have witnessed what I am about to tell you. I have lived long and seen much. But nothing this life has to offer can prepare one for even a glimpse of the world I describe. I do not know where it is; only that it exists beside us, around us and despite us. Ever since that horrible Halloween accident, my life has changed. I have been living in a world that is half on earth and half in another dimension. I know two worlds. Sometimes curious spirits visit me or visit places they have known when in the flesh and I see them. I know things before they happen. I see events before they happen. Death is no stranger in either world.

Do you know the story of Bishop’s Folly? It is a tale of deceit, jealousy, greed, murder and revenge. Bishop’s Folly indeed! and aptly named at that. Do not tarry long at the North side of the old Church on the main road, my friend. It is evil here on earth.

There are buried the remains of an evil Bishop, an unfaithful woman and a jealous, wicked, greedy husband. The Bishop did seduce the wife of a woodsman and in return she demanded expensive gifts and other riches, else she’d ruin his reputation and standing in the Church. In a rage the Bishop did murder the woman, stabbing her 20 times as she pleaded for her life and choked on her blood. He did this before the very alter where he praised the Lord and held weekly services. As he stood over her lifeless body, still crazed with violent rage, soaked with the blood of his victim, the husband entered the Church, tree ax in hand. The Bishop cursed the woman and shouted that the world would be a better place without this Jezebel and the cuckold should be grateful for the service he performed to rid the earth of this vile and worthless woman. He hardly finished his sentence when the woodsman’s ax, expertly thrown with all the force at his command, struck the Bishop and split his breast bone in two, exposing his vital organs, blood gushing as if from a fountain within.

He was a jealous husband, yes, but in league with the devil and his own amoral wife, planning to profit from her infidelity…and when the Bishop refused, the logger Thorne came to confront the Bishop, to threaten him with exposure and disgrace and extract a price for his wife’s favors. Little did he know the Bishop would first kill his Martha Lee! In a week, after a trial of less than 10 minutes duration, the woodsman was hanged from an old Oak tree and buried in the very same churchyard; he beside his adulterous wife and the Bishop at the front of the yard. Soon after, folks began to call the area Bishop’s Folly. That was in the year 1749.

Every night, just after midnight, that horrible scene is relived, and folks have told of hearing screams and seeing flickering lights coming from the old Church or a glimpse of a rigid body hanging from a tree in the yard but I have witnessed the entire episode, and seen what no mortal has seen in 200 years; gargoyles jump with glee and snakes hiss and slither about darting in and out of the orifices of deformed creatures, demons dancing all about, some with tails, some with horns and some with both; all dance with glee and cackle with joy each time the Bishop Holtz plunges his dagger into the wretched soul of Martha Lee Thorne, the wife of Jonathan Thorne. Their dancing and spinning, cackling and screeching is even louder as Thorne’s ax splits the shocked Bishop in half, night after night!

It hasn’t been an easy life but I am a man of faith. My life was spared while another was taken. I live my life in service to the Lord and repent each day for my role in an innocent girl’s untimely death. My soul aches each time I hear another account that the ghost of a young girl is seen running from the rail road crossing, down County Road toward Scythe.

I never married; I took the job of caretaker at the old Presbyterian Church and I tend to the land and the animals as best I can. I’ve never left Bishop’s Folly, not even once. My brothers and sister have married and after mother passed they left this wretched county, one by one, finding my company too tedious or too depressing. That awful day has left me broken, thoughtful and withdrawn, I admit, but I can say with certainty on this day, that there is a God. There is a Heaven and there is a living hell.

This morning the paper reported the death of an elderly man, as the result of a car hit by a train at the RR crossing on Route 4. The report said the driver had been drinking. That happened last night, October 30th, 2011. I hadn’t heard from my childhood friend Marc in nearly 60 years and was waiting for a visit last night. He never arrived and didn’t call.

As I lay in my bed, just before dawn, I heard footsteps in my house. I didn’t stir or call out because my room was filled with an awful, acrid stench, like burning flesh, and was filled with an eerie, yellowish light. I waited, not knowing if the visitor had come for me or what to expect. I was oddly calm and composed. Soon the intruder entered my room, emanating the yellow glow and unbearable stench and with that the room grew icy cold; I could see only agony and sorrow in the gnarled, pained and wart encrusted features. Yet there was something eerily familiar about this pathetic apparition; something that made my heart heavy. The stench was unbearable and the yellow haze was so thick you could part it with your breath; if I dared to breathe. Then came the voice; tortured, gravelly and raspy, almost hissing…barely intelligible at first, repeating over and over, growing in volume until the words were unmistakable. “Andrew MacDonald! I have come to keep our oath. Damn you Andrew, there is a God! But I have not seen His face. I know only the agony of Hell! Damn you Andrew there is a God! But I have not seen His face! I know only the agony of hell! Aarrgh…the agony of hell! Here I am condemned to spend eternity, all for a worthless little tramp. Well so be it! Damn her too, I say!”

The unrepentant Marco turned, grumbling, growling and cursing and slowly left my room; I heard the front door close. As suddenly as the stench and aura of yellow hazy light had engulfed my bedroom, it was also gone.

I will tell my story to whoever will listen until the ravages of life claim this sorrowful, repenting human being but not my eternal soul. Thanks be to a just and forgiving God. When He calls I shall find peace at last.

The End


In the mirror you may find your savior.

Folks, For G-d’s sake

I have learned one irrefutable fact about racists, anti-Semites and haters of all description, worldwide. They may concentrate their hatred on one group or another but in the end the only group they don’t hate is their own or the group that most closely resembles their personal ideology for hatred. Hitler hated the Jews but was not deterred from killing Christians. He praised the Muslim Brotherhood.

The Muslim Brotherhood is disposed to a Holocaust of their own while denying that Hitler’s Holocaust ever happened. They strive for world domination but that would be a world where no Jew lives and only Islam rules. They are not timid in pronouncing their goal to convert all infidels to Islam or hold them as slaves; failing that, all infidels must be killed; that is the Muslim Brotherhood doctrine.

The civilized world must stand up to these thugs or embrace the fate that befalls us. I plead with all who value the freedoms enumerated in the Declaration of Independence, The Constitution and the Bill of Rights. Read the article below and take the time to write Congress, your own church leaders and the signers of this misguided letter demanding Congress investigate American aid to Israel on the basis of Israel’s alleged crimes against humanity. It is a hate letter with an ulterior motive to accuse Israel of the very crimes it continues to suffer at the hands of her enemies; enemies that pretend to seek a peaceful resolution to their controversy but will not settle for less than Israel’s total elimination. Any honest historian will tell you that Palestinians have no historical or ancient claim to any land in the Middle East, much less the Sovereign soil which is now Israel. This makes the Palestinians a mere organization doing the bidding of the Muslim Brotherhood; no more, no less.

Israel needs and deserves our unconditional support. Condemn this “Christian” group that pretends to seek justice by denying human rights to a nation under siege. They uttered not a murmur when Obama provided the Palestinians with undeserved American tax dollars, even without Congressional approval; more, over the objection of the United States Congress.

The single act of standing up for Israel and denouncing unChristian behavior no matter what the source confirms your real committment to American values at a time when the president of the United
States will not do so.

God blessed America. Do not take that blessing for granted. Do not become a victim.


Church leaders have asked Congress to reevaluate aid to Israel.

Leaders of several American churches recently sent a letter to Congress asking them to investigate American aid to Israel. The letter accused Israel of massive human rights violations and erroneously asserted that American aid to Israel is “unconditional.” The letter focused on investigating only Israel and not other Arab states or the Palestinian Authority. Jewish groups were caught off guard, despite being in contact with the churches to plan a regular interfaith roundtable. In response to the letter, the Jewish groups canceled the planned meeting and instead invited the heads of the churches to a summit to discuss the matter.

In the New York Times, JCPA Vice President Ethan Felson said the letter shows that relations between Jews and some Christian groups are “badly broken”. This latest assault on Israel comes on the heels of failed attempts this past summer at the Presbyterian and Methodist church conventions to divest from companies selling defense equipment to Israel.

JCPA’s statement condemned the church letter and corrected the record that US aid to Israel is a product of shared values and goals and is not “unconditional.” The Rabbinical Assembly, American Jewish Committee and other groups also issued statements critical of the church leaders for their “unbalanced portrayal” of the situation and “political attack on Israel.”

The church letter to Congress was signed by leaders of the United Methodist Church, the Presbyterian Church (USA), the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, and several other Christian groups. Their letter, which only mentions human rights in the rest of the world as part of a footnote, is the latest example of anti-Israel advocates’ unfair fixation – a pattern of anti-Zionism and delegitimization that JCPA and other groups have repeatedly pointed out. For instance, earlier this year, the JCPA challenged the Presbyterian church to reign in a Presbyterian chartered group with a leader who encouraged Hamas to hold Galid Shalit hostage for leverage and where a pastor said “greed and Injustice are a cancer at the very core of Zionism.”

Japan & Muslims

It is not too late to learn. Somebody in Japan read the Qran and listened to the Islamistspeak; and took them at their word…America will never be fully restored if we allow a professed enemy to roam freely and feed at the public trough.
 I am unable to verify if this write-up is true.  You decide.    Greg
 Japan & The Muslims
The Japanese are a very evolved race.Have you ever read in the newspaper that a political leader or a prime
minister from an Islamic nation has visited Japan?
Have you ever come across news that the Ayatollah of Iran or the King of
Saudi Arabia or even a Saudi Prince has visited Japan?Japan is a country keeping Islam at bay.
Japan has put strict restrictions on Islam and ALL Muslims.
The reasons are:

a) Japan is the only nation that does not give citizenship to Muslims.
b) In Japan permanent residency is not given to Muslims.
c) There is a strong ban on the propagation of Islam in Japan.
d) In the University of Japan, Arabic or any Islamic language is not taught.
e) One cannot import a ‘Koran’ published in the Arabic language.
f) According to data published by the Japanese government, it has given
temporary residency to only 2 lakhs, Muslims, who must follow the Japanese
Law of the Land. These Muslims should speak Japanese and carry their
religious rituals in their homes.
g) Japan is the only country in the world that has a negligible number of
embassies in Islamic countries.
h) Japanese people are not attracted to Islam at all.
I) Muslims residing in Japan are the employees of foreign companies.
j) Even today, visas are not granted to Muslim doctors, engineers or
managers sent by foreign companies.
k) In the majority of companies it is stated in their regulations that no
Muslims should apply for a job.
l) The Japanese government is of the opinion that Muslims are fundamentalist
and even in the era of globalization they are not willing to change their
Muslim laws.
m) Muslims cannot even think about renting a house in Japan.
n) If anyone comes to know that his neighbor is a Muslim then the whole
neighborhood stays alert.
o) No one can start an Islamic cell or Arabic ‘Madrasa’ in Japan
p) There is no Sharia law in Japan.
q) If a Japanese woman marries a Muslim then she is considered an outcast
r) According to Mr. Kumiko Yagi, Professor of Arab/Islamic Studies at Tokyo
University of Foreign Studies, “There is a mind frame in Japan that Islam is
a very narrow minded religion and one should stay away from it.”
s) Freelance journalist Mohammed Juber toured many Islamic countries after
9/11 including Japan. He found that the Japanese were confident that
extremists could do no harm in Japan.

My personal estimation of the Japanese has risen dramatically!

The Facts

Folks It takes two terms to complete total transformation…
This morning on Fox a woman was interviewed while in line to buy gas for $1.84 a gallon, courtesy of an anti Obama or pro Romney not for profit organization. She admitted that the economy and gas prices have forced her to adjust her and her family’s choices to reflect their reduced buying power.
She went on to say she will definitely vote for Obama because his and Michelle’s social policies are compatible with her values. She added that it takes more than one term to turn an economy around. The woman felt she was sacrificing for America at a time when sacrifice was important; certainly noble and patriotic motives.
Sadly she is mistaken on both counts and her conclusions are typical of the masses that remain loyal to a failed presidency because the administration, aware of its effect on Americans’ standard of living, has promulgated a false narrative specifically to appeal to those Americans who rely on the administration to formulate their opinions and conclusions. This is the Alinsky strategy in effect. This woman has no idea what the Obama’s stand for and it does not take two terms to turn the economy around…It takes two terms to complete the total transformation most Americans have not yet deciphered will mean to them and their children’s future.
Below is a compilation of the economic reality of policies that did not succeed because they could not succeed. The listing does not suggest that these intended results represent the progress Obama is making to transform America, as he promised, from a Constitutional Republic to a Socialist democracy or the significance of the difference.
“We have come too far to turn back now” is significant only because it measures increased poverty, debt, inflation and
unemployment as hallmarks of success. This patriotic woman and the millions who have been taken in by this subterfuge see it as hope and change in progress.
Print the tables out. They are excellent talking points in their own right but tell a much larger, far more sinister story.
After three years of Obama …

Here’s your change!

  Jan ’09 Today % Chg Source
Avg. Retail price/gallon gas in U.S. $1.83 $3.85 84% 1      
Crude oil, European Brent (barrel) $43.48 $99.02 127.7% 2      
Crude oil, West TX Inter. (barrel) $38.74 $91.38 135.9% 2      
Corn, No.2 yellow, Central IL $3.56 $6.33 78.1% 2      
Soybeans, No. 1 yellow, IL $9.66 $13..75 42.3% 2      
Sugar, cane, raw, world, lb.Fob $13.37 $35.39 164.7% 2      
Unemployment rate, non-farm, overall 7.6% 9.4% 23.7% 3      
Unemployment rate, blacks 12.6% 15.8% 25.4% 3      
Number of unemployed 11,616,000 14,485,000 24.7% 3      
Number of fed. Employees 2,779,000 2,840,000 2.2% 3      
Real median household income $50,112 $49,777 -0.7% 4      
Number of food stamp recipients 31,983,716 43,200,878 35.1% 5      
Number of unemployment benefit recipients 7,526,598 9,193,838 22.2% 6      
Number of long-term unemployed 2,600,000 6,400,000 146.2% 3      
Poverty rate, individuals 13.2% 14.3% 8.3% 4      
People in poverty in U.S. 39,800,000 43,600,000 9.5% 4      
U.S. Rank in Economic Freedom World Rankings 5 9 n/a 10      
Present Situation Index 29.9 23.5 21.4% 11      
Failed banks 140 164 17.1% 12      
U.S. Dollar versus Japanese yen exchange rate 89.76 82.03 -8.6% 2      
U.S. Money supply, M1, in billions 1,575.1 1,865.7 18.4% 13      
U.S. Money supply, M2, in billions 8,310.9 8,852.3 6.5% 13      
National debt, in trillions $10.627 $16.052 32.2% 14      

(1) U.S. Energy Information Administration; (2) Wall Street Journal; (3) Bureau of Labor Statistics; (4) Census Bureau; (5) USDA; (6) U.S. Dept. Of Labor; (7) FHFA; (8) Standard & Poor’s/Case-Shiller; (9) RealtyTrac; (10) Heritage Foundation and WSJ; (11) The Conference Board; (12) FDIC; (13) Federal Reserve; (14) U.S. Treasury

In a word… hocus.

Folks, hocus without pocus

I repeat. We may never get to witness a real debate again in my lifetime…Take a stroll through Douglas Monument Park on the Shores of Lake Michigan on All Hallows Eve and you will hear the painful groans of the loser to Lincoln bemoan the fact that Romney has Obama and he had Lincoln.

If you can block out the meaning of the words as if words do not have meaning, then I agree with the pundits on both sides of the aisle, that Obama won the debate. But words do have meaning and if we are expected to block out meaning and retain posture then why watch the debate at all?

Watching the defense of the indefensible provokes the idea that water boarding may not be so bad after all. Watching a president who has demonstrated four years of disdain for integrity prove once again that his tongue is the launching pad for flights of fancy is not my idea of stimulating debate.

Romney would be a skilled Chiropractor of the Non Force Technique variety. Sure, he emerged as the more presidential candidate but weren’t we hoping for blood in the water and a clear path to resurrection? Do not worry about Obama’s embarrassment for appearing unpresidential…you cannot embarrass someone who can descend to the depths of dishonesty with complete impunity, confident that his audience is rapt by his performance. Ignorance is bliss.

The score may be Romney 2, Obama 1, but neither candidate will be rewarded for their effort. Obama may, if there was one thoughtful, informed, liberal individual in the Continental United States listening…possibly have lost that vote; but alas there are two dumb asses in the audience who do not appreciate the staredown technique for what it was; a sophomoric, unbecoming display of endemic disdain.

The net result. Obama’s fraud squad had better be at the top of their game if they don’t want the Commander in Sheik to come in third in a two man race.

God blessed America. Do not let that blessing go unrequited. Defeat the impostor in the White House on Novemnber 6th.


A little ahead of himself…

Obama was ahead of himself…There will be no further funding for bayonettes is what he meant to say.

Obama actually defended the cuts in military and the fact that we now have the smallest Navy in generations. The idea that ships are obsolete is ludicrous on its face but if he is telling us that technology trumps brute force then where is the new technology he’s talking about? I know…electronic bayonets and Trojan horses…You could see where they would cost less than battle ships…And Obama is an expert on Trojan Horses…The Health Care Bill is loaded with surprises we may never see until it is behind enemy lines. (In this case we are the enemy, as if you didn’t know.)

Elect this impostor and he will stop lying to us. Once he has our jewels in his vice he will not have to lie except to stay in practice.

If every American who is voting for Obama really believes his line they should be happier in Greece. Obama won’t have us to that point for another 2 or 3 years, if that’s what they want…Aliens who voted for Obama will go home anyway once the goose that lays the golden eggs can’t steal anymore eggs to redistribute.

If Obama is re elected the Constitution will become a victim of spontaneous conflagration…well Obama throws that word around a lot lately…maybe not so spontaneous…more like the victim of a planned assault…The Bill of Rights will just need a little tweaking; “a well regulated militia, being necessary to the security of an oppressive government”….you get the idea…It’s already in the Trojan Horse everyone refers to as Obama Care…yessiree…as well funded as our standing army….to care for Obama.

You may vote for your own execution if you want to…but the hangman will not reveal his true identity…Once you make your grandmother, aunt and brother out to be liars there’s no going back…He will stand by the Birth Certificates he had custom made…they are works of art, after all.

Elections have consequences and the second one may be the charm. Unless the rising tide raises our consciousness and we toss the impostor out come November.

God blessed America; do not let the blessing go unrequited. Vote to save the Republic.


The Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing

It’s not hard to see the deception if you pay attention like my cousin Ron…
His tongue serves as a launching pad for flights of fancy…
From the tomb Douglas bemoans the luck of the draw. He had to debate Abe.

Has everyone noticed the different language coming out of Obama during this campaign period? Suddenly he praises our system of government, our free market, our American individualism. I think I heard him use the word “exceptional” when referring to America. Well, it seems the language that he is using this year is quite different from his language he’s been using over the previous three years. What a difference a re-election year makes. Let’s look at the history to expose the “wolf in sheep’s clothing.”
• He showed great disrespect for the separation of powers doctrine and our Constitution when he tried to intimidate the Supreme Court prior to the Obamacare ruling, calling them “unelected” justices and tried to influence their decision.
• Obama’s Energy Secretary said, “Somehow, we have to figure out a way to boost the price of gasoline to European levels” to stimulate green energy use. His Transportation Secretary said he wanted to, “coerce people out of their cars.” Now we wonder why gas prices are so high. Obama takes the position that there is nothing he can do about it. In four years he has taken no action nor made any effort to try to relieve gas prices, which hurt the middle class more than anyone.
• During his campaign in 2008, he spoke of not having a “black or white America but a United States of America.” It was great campaign rhetoric because he has been the most divisive president in our history. Class warfare is his staple.
• Right at the beginning of his term as president, Obama went on a tour of the Middle East, in early 2009, that has become known as his apology tour. He told those nations that the “United States was no longer a Christian nation” and he said that we are not “exceptional.” We are no different than all the other nations in the world. Those words and his policy of “leading from behind” gave our enemies license to act. The result has been a series of civil wars and revolutions that have created political voids that are being filled by our enemies.
• His open mick gaffe with the Russian president when he was overheard saying, “Wait until after the election when I’ll have far more flexibility” exposed his willingness to deceive our European allies and the American people; it was a window into the man’s character and ethical standards.
• In April of this year, he said, “In this country, prosperity has never trickled down from the wealthy. Prosperity has always come from the bottom up.” This is a false statement. It is when the wealthy prosper and create jobs that stimulates our economy and also makes the middle class wealthier. This year, he avoids exposing this belief and speaks well of the free market. His rhetoric during this campaign year and his actions differ dramatically.
• In 2011 he said, “American individualism has been so much a part of the American DNA. The only problem with it is it doesn’t work.” But that is exactly what has made this country the richest in the world. It is our American system that allows an individual to pursue his own success and happiness that draws so many people from other nations. This year he talks about our proud history and takes an opposite position from his earlier remarks in order to get re-elected.
• Regarding capitalism and Individualism that doesn’t work, he quotes Einstein by saying, “you can’t keep doing the same thing over and over and expect a different outcome.” Capitalism and individualism in our free market has historically worked and is the fundamental reason for our rich economy. It’s socialism that hasn’t worked anywhere in the world. So now, for re-election purposes, he praises free enterprise.
• Regarding the economy that he inherited, he constantly reminds us that “we can’t return to the policies that brought us to where we are today.” He fails to mention that it was a democratic congress that offered to support a pattern of relaxed mortgages that created the bubble that caused the economic decline; but he feels if he blames the previous administration enough, he hopes no one will remember the truth or notice that, although the recession ended in June of ’09 shortly after he took office, he has failed to guide us through a much needed vibrant recovery.
• His statement, which he has acted on many times, that if congress won’t act on his proposals, he would act without the congress by using his power of Executive Order. It’s one thing to use the power of Executive Order when time is of the essence, in order to expedite a needed action. That is the reason the Constitution granted such power to the president. But to use that power to intentionally by-pass the congress and the system of checks and balances provided by our Constitution, clearly constitutes an abuse of power.
We already know Obama to be a liar. We know he has a failed record. We also know that he is a master of deception. We know that he does not deserve re-election.
Romney’s words fit the choices he has made. His record supports his ideology. He has a reputation for integrity. He’s very intelligent with a glowing record of success. We Americans need two things; integrity and success. Romney is the only choice that can give that to us.
A little over four years ago, Obama said that if he “can’t fix our economy in four years, he would be a one term president.” Let’s take him at his word for that.
My two cents

Will the real traitor please stand up?

Folks, The Commander in Sheik

There is no shame to be fooled by a practiced deceiver. Halitosis; endemic, systemic, cloying, smothering, vomit inducing halitosis must serve as a warning that you are being confronted with a debilitating illness.

If Obama was a vampire we could say he increased his fold with a bite, one sycophant at a time. He’s not a vampire; he’s an evil, ideological, self indulgent, autocratic figure with a campaign motto ascribing to the agenda that would transform America. Hope and change and halitosis. It is the application of a socialist agenda to render this nation incapable of resisting the installation of a Fascist State. From there it requires the simple determination of only one man to submit the nation to outside rule…His fold increases by the perpetuation of the big lie.

Obama himself is a fabrication. His persona was assembled one lie at a time, long before he entered our consciousness, to present to the Democrat Party the most charismatic, electable politician their party ever embraced and endorsed. Once the Democrat Party took the bait Obama’s creators knew they would turn heaven and earth upside down before they admit their mistake, even if they smell the rat in their nest. They sold their souls to the Devil for a pittance. The rest is academic; the Democrat Party then sold Obama, the most unqualified, least known member of their party in history to their constituents, halitosis and all. The cabal had enlisted a giant co conspirator.

This transition cannot occur by an honest presentation of a long term plan to lower the entire nation’s standard of living for nefarious purposes. It is brought about incrementally by gradual indoctrination. Democrats, under the delusion that they are finally realizing their every liberal initiative, will carry their prevaricating, pontificating impostor as their standard bearer, halitosis, warts and all, sacrificing what is left of their integrity in exchange for liberal programs like Universal Health Care and free birth control; the Constitution and future of the Republic be damned; which basically makes almost every consorting member of the Democrat Party a traitor. I don’t use that term lightly. Democrats who still refuse to examine the record, appraise their candidate impartially or put country ahead of partisanship reek with contamination…Obama’s conscription process, more insidious, more permeating than the bite of a vampire, has them accepting and repeating lies as dogmatic truths and failure to perform as a promise to succeed. Adolph Hitler was right and the democrat party has betrayed America.

For Obama, a Muslim adjutant, lying is the prescribed, endorsed, Sharia modus operandi. For the democrat denizens and a substantial number of Republicans, it is an accepted political device, never condemned; a honed political skill admired and emulated by one’s peers. A party machine made to order for a cabal whose entire strategy for victory is to hide their true agenda or disguise it with soaring rhetoric by a candidate who can, at a moment’s notice, wrap himself in the flag, spout patriotic prose and declare success in the face of utter failure; even in the face of unwarranted death among those who serve faithfully.

My fellow Americans. This is not the time to practice politics as usual. The Democrat Party of yore is no longer. It is time to walk away and choose America over the alternative before us. It is not as though the facts are buried deep in our archives. Any literate person can do the research. Obama is not who he has led you to believe he is. He doesn’t even make it difficult to prove. You may never discover who he really is but you will soon discover that he is a chameleon; a fraud; a force for deception and change we may deserve but cannot tolerate. If you do not smell the halitosis you may be acquiring the systemic illness that breeds the germs of ignorance. Obama is living a lie and enjoying the sport. The perks are incredible.

Take back America on November 6. Defeat Obama with resounding consequence. Let those who have perpetrated this attempt to transform America retreat with a lesson well learned. The American Constitutional Republic can withstand what they dish out and come roaring back to our former glory. All we have to do is unite once again.

God blessed America, don’t let it go unrequited.


A Local Political Brigade



I had the unfortunate experience of going head to head with some young Obama supporters Saturday morning. We were in the Winn Dixie shopping center on Woolbright and Federal Highway in Boynton Beach when the Romney caravan of motorcycle escorts, emergency vehicles and limousines came over the Intracoastal A 1 A bridge and blocked traffic for about 15 minutes in all directions.

I got out of my car and started the exchange by telling them to think about their future and American history before they made a choice that would affect their futures and perhaps the future for their children. I overheard their comments pro Obama and very anti Romney so I decided to have a spontaneous debate. One young Haitian man who said he was in college preparing to become a lawyer, ignored my calm demeanor and mild suggestion that Obama was not looking out for America’s best interests and his record is testimony, or words to that effect, raised his voice and in a challenging tone responded with ” do you want to know why I vote for Obama? Do you want to know? I tell you why! Because Obama, he take care of me!” A pretty young Jamaican lady urged him and her friends not to talk to me because I was evil and would poison their minds with lies saying America was only for rich people and she couldn’t wait to go back to Jamaica. Another young woman who worked in the telephone store we were in front of said they should listen to what I have to say because I was older and more experienced but added that she would vote for Obama because Republicans are against abortion, even when the mother’s life was in danger or in cases of rape and incest…From then on the Haitian college student would look past me when I spoke and when I accused him of not listening and being a little rude he responded with Obama talking points, whether on the economy or health care and I lost the opportunity; it was a one way diatribe. The girls with the Jamaican kid started to chant, laughing, “you the devil.” The motorcade passed, I wished them a good life and went home.

I tried to tell them, to no avail, that you will only get “free stuff” while the country has the productivity to accommodate redistribution…As productivity declines in an environment that discourages wealth accumulation, wealth redistribution tapers off; until those who have become entitlement-dependent demand their free stuff anyway and resort to violence to express their dissatisfaction; visit Greece and Spain.

I tried to tell them that no one begrudges a helping hand to the temporarily unemployed or persons with special needs due to circumstances beyond their control. It is when you vote to make the entitlements a permanent benefit and a reward for idleness that you make a pact with Satan…return payment undisclosed. When you perpetuate the policies that expand entitlements with your vote you are selling your soul to the devil. The devil will extract his due and you will discover that the land of opportunity is no more.

I tried to tell them that the unintended consequences of allowing yourself to be seduced by Socialism is the absence of self determination and the freedoms you take for granted and cannot fully appreciate, until they are forfeited. That is the Devil’s due.

I tried to tell them but their eyes gazed past me when I spoke and could only see the false images handing them free stuff but were not permitted to see the face behind the mask.

I tried to tell them they had no reason to hate and they should not distrust the messenger unless they listened first. Maybe you can tell them for me.

If the debate can influence your vote one way or the other you haven’t paid attention to me, the hundreds of American patriots trying to get through or the last four years foisted on us by Obama. The next time I meet a bunch of Obama supporters I’ll try again, but…my flag will remain at half mast until Obama is defeated and the Republic can be restored.

God blessed America; do not let that blessing go unrequited.


Powerful New Film About the Nuclear Threat from Iran

Stand with Israel.