Cogitating while masticating

So, this morning over breakfast, I am cogitating about anything, everything, nothing; and the thought occurs to me.

Christianity highlights the ultimate location of seeing and being with Jesus throughout eternity. And being gathered with many who are like minded, and love God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit. With each one having a mansion in which to spend eternity. With the greatest blessing being to worship at the feet of God the Father and Jesus the Christ. Nothing is said about interpersonal relationships with others. Women and men will be on equal footing spending eternity knowing they are with the Creator, and Sustainer of all life.

Looking in another direction, I understand Islam teaches that women and children are property and subservient to men. It highlights the ultimate location of men who are faithful spending eternity with many virgins. Sadly, I guess that doesn’t say much for the women; if they are not virgins, what happens to them at death? And, I guess, what kind of an eternity is that to look forward to, for a woman?

So, Jesus came to reclaim fallen mankind, forgive sin, and lead us into a peace that passes all understanding, and a freedom that the soul desires and clamors for. What kind of peace and freedom can there be in people being subservient to someone? I guess, being born in the land of the free and the home of the brave has given me a jaundiced picture of life. Almost no where else on earth, or in the history of mankind have so many been so free, so, available to be all they can be. And yet, there are people who clamor to be subservient to someone else. People who are willing to give up all their power, and ability, to be told what to do, where to go, how to do it, how to get there, by someone else.

As the song goes, you can take everything, just give me Jesus. I would rather trust and depend on the Creator and Sustainer of all that is known, than any created being. No, I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Jesus Christ!

More Cognitive Disonance

OK, so, through the night, my mind seemed to work on something, that was evident when I awoke this morning. Two disparate thoughts seemed to meld together, that I ordinarily would not have considered.
On the radio, here locally, there has been an advertisement for a fund raiser, that highlights country singer Mark Chesnut coming to town. The ad includes a short from one of his records entitled “Bubba Shot The Jukebox, Last Night”. So, I guess this little ditty was percolating around in my mind when I went to bed last night. Huh, Bubba shot the jukebox...in a way, that is funny, pretty funny. Good entertainment, no? However, in today’s politically correct atmosphere, a message comes through pretty loud and clear. Bubba shot the jukebox!
Who is Bubba? Well, thanks to Hollywood, we know who Bubba is. The movie “Forrest Gump” shows us a pretty definitive example of who Bubba is. He is basically low intelligence, got his mind on one thing and one thing only. He is a southern hick hell bent on making a fortune someday. Bubba is enthused about entering the military, and sees it as being a stepping stone to realizing his dream.
 Excuse me for being confused, but in the movie, Bubba is an “African-American”. All the stereotypes from down the ages are complete in this one person. Think about it, in Vietnam, Bubba gets shot, who picks him up and runs with him to safety? Why it’s a white guy. It is the white guy who in the end is able to realize the affluent lifestyle poor ole Bubba dreamed of. Can I say how surprised I am that Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton have not led a crusade to denigrate this movie?
Enter, now, the thought “Bubba shot the jukebox”. He didn’t shoot it a look. He shot it with a .45. And why would he do such a thing? The song made him cry. Ah, what a convenient picture of a hayseed hick, sitting around drinking in his favorite watering hole, and getting upset over a song and shooting the jukebox. Yeah, I thought so. Bitter clingers...clinging to their guns and religion. Hayseed hicks who have no respect for the law. Hayseed hicks who carry armed weapons. Hayseed hicks who turn to violence when they’re not happy, when the world is not going their way. It appears there is no real reason for anyone to want to own a gun, much less carry it around unless they are a social misfit. Yeah, right, a Bubba. A bitter clinger. Face it, if you own a gun, and perhaps carry one for personal protection, you are only a moment away from pulling out the gun and shooting something or someone just because you are a social misfit.
Watch the current movies that show guns being used all the time. Funny, the actors who represent the most “shoot em up” persona, appear to be the ones who are the most vocal about “gun control”. Said actors would not be caught carrying a weapon in public, but they are willing to hire bodyguards to carry the loaded weapons to protect them.
Okay, Scotty, beam me up, there ain’t no intellejunt life on this planet!

Cognition?

So, I am sitting here, cogitating, as I am oft wont to do, and my mind wanders back to the days of yesteryear - as Billy Joel might say "when I wore a younger man's clothes". It is true that my mind has a tendency to wander where it might want to go; so, here goes. Back before my time, and perhaps up until I was able to cognitively understand what was going on around me, when a person told on someone else to an authority figure they were considered to "squeal" or they were a "rat" or a "fink". In some regards there were also "rat finks". Then, during the time when a pay phone cost a dime to make a local call, the term "dropping a dime" was used. During my years in the Marine Corps, around the Vietnam time, a new phrase was coined "Narc". Though its use began in the drug culture referring to "narcotics" and the authorities making arrests, it soon became the go-to phrase for anyone tattling on someone. Well, today, I am pretty much out of touch with popular culture. Thus I am able to title my blog "Tired n retired retard". I am no longer aware of what term is used for tattling. For all practical purposes there may not even be one anymore, in this "politically correct" atmosphere we now live in. Come to think of it, I can see how calling someone a term referring to their propensity to tattle on someone, to come under the heading of "bullying". Oh, that's right, recently we used the term "whistle blower", I think until "Wikileaks" came along. So, I suppose that is enough cogitating for the time being. My mind seems to have tired of wandering, so, I'm gonna put this to bed.

Cogitation regurgitated

As I go through my days, I find I do a lot of cogitating. With 68 years behind me, I find I have a lot of memories to facilitate any cogitation. I have thought a lot regarding our current state of affairs. What I don’t understand, is how the people of the greatest nation history has ever known find themselves disheartened about their present and future. I recall, having an ice box, and meeting the ice man when he brought ice for the ice box. We didn’t have a refrigerator, cuz they were still relatively new, and only owned by the well to do. Well, today, we not only have a fridge that makes ice, but will serve water also. I recall a box on the wall, that had an earphone connected by a wire, a mouthpiece you spoke into, and a hand crank on the side that would summon an operator to connect your call. We had a party line, which means other people were connected to the line; each of us had a distinct number of rings to identify a call for us. It was understood, that others could listen in on your call. Today, I have a cell phone that fits in my pocket, and for the most part, when it rings no one else can pick up the call. Today, I find government lackeys relishing the idea of listening in on my calls to see what I am saying. As a kid, I would receive a weekly allowance, on Saturday, of fifty cents. That fifty cents would allow me to have a soda at the drug store, buy a comic book, and some bubble gum. Double Bubble bubble gum cost one penny for two pieces of gum. Alternately, that same fifty cents would get me into the Ritz theater on Broadway plus popcorn (or a hot dog) and a drink. If I was not in the mood for movies, I could get into the skating rink and skate for hours. As I think about the visit to the theater on Saturday, I recall seeing about a half-hour of cartoons, followed by “Victory At Sea” short films of what our Navy was doing during the war. This was usually followed by a news reel. Then we got to see a couple of films, usually cowboy and indian. Now, I go to the theater, watch one movie, and out the door. I remember watching Kruschev tell the world that Communism would bury the United States. Now, I find elected officials in our state, city, county and federal administrations doing all they can to fulfill Kruschev’s promise. I remember when the doctor would make house calls. In fact, when my sister nearly died from the croup, the doctor was already there, checking up on her when she stopped breathing. He was able to start working on her while we waited for the ambulance. My guess is, had he not been there, she would not have made it to the hospital other than dead on arrival. Today, I find it difficult to understand people saying we do not have the greatest medical care in the world. Funny how people from all over the world come here for surgery and other medical care, they cannot get in their own country. Now, I hear the veteran’s hospitals can keep people waiting for care for up to months at time. I recognize one of the key problems our medical system struggles with is government intervention. Well, I continue to cogitate, I see things I do not understand, and things I wish were different, but I suppose what is happening in our country is a part of progression. I am truly saddened to see how elected officials are striving to destroy us. May God have mercy on us, one and all.