Monthly Archives: August 2010

‘Non-Political’ Fox News Messiah Glenn Beck and His ‘Black Robe Regiment’ Represent the Views of 180 Million Americans

… well, according to Glenn Beck anyway.


Beck Introduces the New Black Robe Regiment

That’s right, 240 preachers show up at Beck’s ‘Gull on the Mall’ party — his ‘Black Robe Regiment’ — and, somehow, they represent what 180 million Americans think? This must be the miracle Beck was promoting!

Our New Messiah Glenn Beck’s Message From God: ‘Just Do It’

“This is the beginning of the great awakening of America … We must give voice to what God says we must do My message to you tonight is stand where He wants you to stand and trust in the Lord. If He tells you to do it, do it. If you can’t figure it out, He will. Just do it.”
— Glenn Beck yesterday on his ‘Restoring Honor’ rally message, as quoted by NBC news services, Aug. 28, 2010.

Is Glenn Beck listening to God or Nike’s advertising agency?

“All political parties die at last of swallowing their own lies.”
— John Arbuthnot

So do ‘non-political’ tea parties and jumped-up bipolar Shock Jocks who pretend to be religious figures.

Inspection- Rude

Have you had trouble in social situations: family, so called “friends:” people being outright rude and nasty when it comes to differences we have? Well, this week’s Inspection may be a personal note… to whom I’d rather not say, other than “a relative.” But I’m guessing you might want to read it anyway. I suspect, no matter what your opinions, you may have been in a similar situation.

My purpose here is neither to embarrass you, Sir, or some form of comeuppance. I use this column as a platform for many things; including the quite personal. That’s been true since I wrote the first edition almost 40 years ago.

There’s a term we must start with, it’s called “guest.” Relative, friend or acquaintance, someone who visits is a “guest.” A guest who stays at someone else’s house needs to have some manners, as does the host. And there comes a time when manners are so poor it becomes the Wild West. That happened last Thanksgiving.

It was long in the offing. I suppose I could point to the time in the restaurant where, right after the stroke, your wife kindly offered to cut your steak for you. If I ever have a stroke I would hope Millie, my wife, would do the same. Instead of respecting her, appreciating her, and understanding the family was in a very public situation, you had a very loud, hard to understand, tantrum… a tantrum a four year old would be embarrassed to have. But… that was between you and your wife. Until now I have kept quiet. As per usual family fashion it was ignored, enabling your behavior.

But as I typed, “…that was between you, your family and your wife.”

Or maybe it was when your own son was muttering under his breath about something he didn’t like or didn’t want to do. He shouldn’t have been doing that, as I’m sure he knows. Working with kids I understand discipline. But the way you grabbed him by the ear and yanked him over to the other end of the house, bringing him to his mother? I’ve seen better, less overly dramatic, stage acts at an elementary school… you know the kind where the teacher/director is so upset they make them go back out and do it again in front of the whole school? Obviously an attempt to show your fatherly manhood that fell flat, at least for me.

Once again, “…between you, your family and your wife.”

For many years visits have become a constant commentary from one political perspective: really doesn’t matter which one though I’m sure regular readers can guess. I don’t come visit family to get in heated political debates, and by this time I realized if I ever did challenge you; no matter how politely, it would most likely end in insult and injury. Isn’t it amazing how one can be smart, yet eventually beat one’s head against a wall anyway? Walls are stubborn things, as we all can be from time to time. I usually avoid them. So I ignored the yearly lectures from your not so superior pedestal regarding how everything should, and must, be… and even the most out there comments. It’s your family, your house: I was the guest.

Last Thanksgiving was the grand finale. I’m not sure as of yet if I will ever risk attending another, even though it’s my family too. Every comment made about anything was politically or socially connected and led to a lecture, an all assuming, self congratulatory, comment. Then we hit the Civil War.

“OK, Ken, this happened 150 years ago. Maybe we can have a rational discussion here,” I say to myself.
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