Brutally Honest

2005 - A photo essay

With Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet band in the background.

Nice.

H/T to Sgt. Hook.

MORE: Some have chosen other ways of looking back at 2005.  It's nice.  It's got a good beat.  I think it rather utopian in some respects but I'm even more convinced that absent the men and women that are represented in the Bob Seger backed version, the folks in Mike's video  might be spending their 525,600 minutes a little differently and I think that Sgt. Hook's version allows for love to be defined in ways that aren't as... limiting.

Say Farris Hassan, want to guest blog on Brutally Honest?

This guy was definitely practicing immersion journalism:

Many believe Farris Hassan is lucky to be alive, writes Jason Straziuso in Baghdad.

MAYBE it was the time the taxi dumped him in the desert at the Iraq-Kuwait border. Or when he drew a crowd at a Baghdad food stand after using a phrasebook. Or when a taxi driver almost assaulted him when he baulked at the $US100 ($136) fare.

At some point, Farris Hassan, a 16-year-old from Florida, realised that travelling to Iraq by himself was not the safest thing he could have done with his Christmas holiday.

At school this year in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, Hassan studied writers like John McPhee in the book The New Journalism, an introduction to immersion journalism in which the writer lives the life of his subject to better understand it.

Diving headfirst into an assignment where students could choose an international topic and write articles about it, Hassan chose the Iraq war for immersion journalism, though he knows his school in no way endorses his travels.

Using money his parents had given him, he bought a $US900 plane ticket, leaving the country on December 11.

His goal: Baghdad. Those privy to his plans: two high school buddies.

Hassan's parents were born in Iraq and had lived in the US for 35 years, but underneath a Middle Eastern veneer was a full-blooded American teenager, sporting Nike shoes and trendy jeans, quite unprepared for what lay ahead.

On Monday, his first full day in Iraq, six vehicle bombs exploded in Baghdad, killing five people and wounding more than 40.

Read the whole thing. 

And Farris, get in touch with me man.

UPDATE: PJMedia links to Farris' essay:

There is a struggle in Iraq between good and evil, between those striving for freedom and liberty and those striving for death and destruction. You are aware of the heinous acts of the terrorists: Women and children massacred, innocent aid workers decapitated, indiscriminate murder. You are also aware of the heroic aspirations of the Iraqi people: liberty, democracy, security, normality. Those terrorists are not human but pure evil. For their goals to be thwarted, decent individuals must answer justice's call for help ... So I will.

Life is not about money, fame, or power. Life is about combating the forces of evil in the world, promoting justice, helping the misfortunate, and improving the welfare of our fellow man. Progress requires that we commit ourselves to such goals. We are not here on Earth to hedonistically pleasure ourselves, but to serve each other and the creator. What deed is greater than sacrificing one's luxuries for the benefit of those less blessed? ...

I know I can't do much. I know I can't stop all the carnage and save the innocent. But I also know I can't just sit here ...

I feel guilty living in a big house, driving a nice car, and going to a great school. I feel guilty hanging out with friends in a cafe without the fear of a suicide bomber present. I feel guilty enjoying the multitude of blessings, which I did nothing to deserve, while people in Iraq, many of them much better then me, are in terrible anguish. This inexorable guilt I feel transforms into a boundless empathy for the distress of the misfortunate and into a compassionate love for my fellow man ...

Love and kindness are never wasted. They always make a difference. They bless the one who receives them, and they bless the one who gives them.

Going to Iraq will broaden my mind. We kids at Pine Crest (School) live such sheltered lives. I want to experience during my Christmas the same hardships ordinary Iraqis experience everyday, so that I may better empathize with their distress. I also want to immerse myself in their environment in order to better comprehend the social and political elements ...

I plan on doing humanitarian work with the Red Cross. I will give my mind, body, and spirit to helping Iraqis rebuild their lives. Hopefully I will get the chance to build houses, distribute food supplies, and bring a smile or two to some poor children.

I know going to Iraq will be incredibly risky. There are thousands of people there that desperately want my head. There are millions of people there that mildly prefer my demise merely because I am American. Nevertheless, I will go there to love and help my neighbor in distress, if that endangers my life, so be it ...

If I know what is needed and what is right, but do not act on my moral conscience, I would be a hypocrite. I must do what I say decent individuals should do. I want to live my days so that my nights are not full of regrets. Therefore, I must go.

This kid should get a medal.  Is Cindy Sheehan reading this?

Nourishment

Povided by Gerard:

She was cruising down the Big Sur coast,
Looking for a little romance.
I was walking the edge of Highway One,
Hoping for a second chance.

She pulled that Ford to the side of the road.
I opened the door, got in.
Said, "My name's Adam, baby. What's yours?"
She said, "They call me Original Sin."

She didn't look like no high-school sweetheart.
She was no obvious beauty queen.
But she had something every man knows,
That fire that's felt not seen.

And by Leslie:

Now for myself, indignance of any sort feels kind of indulgent and frankly if I am going to indulge I’d rather it be on fine wine and chocolate Turtles than a scowl that will leave me with aging wrinkles. Usually my motto is "you cannot make me rankled, it is I who allow myself to get rankled". And when it comes down to it, what in my surroundings is worth wasting my energy on those kinds of emotions. I mostly don’t bother.  But this day there I was and really, it is to this person's credit that they were even able to tempt me to go there.  To the wrinkling rankle.

I enjoyed each post in their entirety.

I think you will too.

Incomprehensible

Cox & Forkum with some good worthy stuff:

From FoxNews: Saddam-Era Mass Grave Found in Karbala.

Municipal employees working on a sewage project in the Shiite holy city of Karbala found skeletal remains believed to be from a mass grave dating to 1991.

Officials said the grave may contain over 100 victims, including women and children, of a brutal crackdown by Saddam Hussein's regime following a Shiite uprising in the south after Desert Storm.

From The Sun: Mind of a madman (via RedState.org).

[Saddam's] defence is now being masterminded by a team of lawyers aiding former US attorney Mr [Ramsey] Clark. They include, Nacib Naimi, Issam Gazyzwi and Iraqi attorney Khalil al Dulaimi. ...

Bizarrely, his legal team address Saddam as "Mr President" -- despite the fact he tortured, gassed and butchered an estimated 300,000 of his own people during a 24-year reign of terror.

Saddam still remains defiant about his trial which could see him face the death sentence. He gloated: "I don’t mind being killed. There will always be another Saddam."

Mr Clark added: "Before Saddam’s capture he was moving every day to a different location, organising the insurgents.

"But every few days he came back to this escape area. Now he knows it was a mistake. Probably American soldiers did not discover the hole. They were told about it." ...

Mr Clark said: "Saddam doesn’t have any money and even if he had, I wouldn’t accept it."

There's more.  Pass it on.

Well, well, well...

... what do we have here?

December 28, 2005--Sixty-four percent (64%) of Americans believe the National Security Agency (NSA) should be allowed to intercept telephone conversations between terrorism suspects in other countries and people living in the United States. A Rasmussen Reports survey found that just 23% disagree.

Sixty-eight percent (68%) of Americans say they are following the NSA story somewhat or very closely.

Just 26% believe President Bush is the first to authorize a program like the one currently in the news. Forty-eight percent (48%) say he is not while 26% are not sure.

Eighty-one percent (81%) of Republicans believe the NSA should be allowed to listen in on conversations between terror suspects and people living in the United States. That view is shared by 51% of Democrats and 57% of those not affiliated with either major political party.

Hmm... fodder for a political scandal?  Fuel for an impeachment?  News to embarass those wascally wepublicans by?

Or more reason to believe that the MSM and their ideologues in the Democratic Party are seriously out of touch?

Seems clear to me.

And while we're on that subject, did anyone see this?

Did President Bush intentionally mislead this nation and its allies into war? Or is it his critics who have misled Americans, recasting history to discredit him and his policies? If your responses are reflexive and self-assured, read on.

On Nov. 20, the Tribune began an inquest: We set out to assess the Bush administration's arguments for war in Iraq. We have weighed each of those nine arguments against the findings of subsequent official investigations by the 9/11 Commission, the Senate Intelligence Committee and others. We predicted that this exercise would distress the smug and self-assured--those who have unquestioningly supported, or opposed, this war.

The matrix below summarizes findings from the resulting nine editorials. We have tried to bring order to a national debate that has flared for almost three years. Our intent was to help Tribune readers judge the case for war--based not on who shouts loudest, but on what actually was said and what happened.

The administration didn't advance its arguments with equal emphasis. Neither, though, did its case rely solely on Iraq's alleged illicit weapons. The other most prominent assertion in administration speeches and presentations was as accurate as the weapons argument was flawed: that Saddam Hussein had rejected 12 years of United Nations demands that he account for his stores of deadly weapons--and also stop exterminating innocents. Evaluating all nine arguments lets each of us decide which ones we now find persuasive or empty, and whether President Bush tried to mislead us.

...

After reassessing the administration's nine arguments for war, we do not see the conspiracy to mislead that many critics allege. Example: The accusation that Bush lied about Saddam Hussein's weapons programs overlooks years of global intelligence warnings that, by February 2003, had convinced even French President Jacques Chirac of "the probable possession of weapons of mass destruction by an uncontrollable country, Iraq." We also know that, as early as 1997, U.S. intel agencies began repeatedly warning the Clinton White House that Iraq, with fissile material from a foreign source, could have a crude nuclear bomb within a year.

Seventeen days before the war, this page reluctantly urged the president to launch it. We said that every earnest tool of diplomacy with Iraq had failed to improve the world's security, stop the butchery--or rationalize years of UN inaction. We contended that Saddam Hussein, not George W. Bush, had demanded this conflict.

In other words, the Bush lied mantra is, in and of itself, a lie.

Will the Religious Left recant?  Will the moonbats?  Will Nancy Pelosi, Harry Reid, Ted Kennedy, John Kerry?

Don't. Bet. On. It.

Slappy Holiday

Why not take the Santa Claus tradition a little further? by Gene Edward Veith 

Santa Claus had his origins in St. Nicholas, the fourth-century bishop of Myra in present-day Turkey. Known for his generosity and his love of children, Nicholas is said to have saved a poor family's daughters from slavery by tossing into their window enough gold for a rich dowry, a present that landed in some shoes or, in some accounts, stockings that were hung up to dry. Thus arose the custom of hanging up stockings for St. Nicholas to fill. And somehow he transmogrified into Santa Claus, who has become for many people the secular Christmas alternative to Jesus Christ.

But there is more to the story of Nicholas of Myra. He was also a delegate to the Council of Nicea in a.d. 325, which battled the heretics who denied the deity of Christ. He was thus one of the authors of the Nicene Creed, which affirms that Jesus Christ is both true God and true man. And unlike his later manifestation, Nicholas was particularly zealous in standing up for Christ.

When I grew up the name Nicholas was kinda rare. Even in our Italian Catholic world of Brooklyn NY, I was in high school before I met another. Perhaps that’s why Rev. 2:6 “Yet this you do have, that you hate the deeds of the Nicolaitans, which I also hate“ always troubled me. Even the “good” Nicholas of Acts gets a qualifier “Nicolas, a proselyte from Antioch.” Acts 6:5 (NASB) Oh him, the proselyte…

Ultimately it all culminated in December with the St. Nicholas, Santa Clause connection. The fact that I was built like Santa all through elementary school did not help much.

Imagine my excitement when I read this article in World Magazine. Here was a Nicholas I could be proud of. Here was a Nicholas I could relate to. Especially after this:

During the Council of Nicea, jolly old St. Nicholas got so fed up with Arius, who taught that Jesus was just a man, that he walked up and slapped him! That unbishoplike behavior got him in trouble. The council almost stripped him of his office, but Nicholas said he was sorry, so he was forgiven.

How I wish I knew this when I stood outside the principals office. I could have pleaded genetics, or predisposition, or anything to avoid the paddle. My weak attempt at repentance never seemed to evoke the same level of forgivness they seemed to have shown Bishop Nicholas. Catholic school in the early ‘60’s relied heavily on corporal punishment. Of course we did not need metal detectors, police or police dogs. We had Brother Thomas. That’s a story for another post...

The point is, the original Santa Claus was someone who flew off the handle when he heard someone minimizing Christ. Perhaps we can battle our culture's increasingly Christ-less Christmas by enlisting Santa in his original cause. The poor girls' stockings have become part of our Christmas imagery. So should the St. Nicholas slap.

Over the past few years I have often gotten to the point of wanting to issue this Christmas Slap. Always in love of course. As I have gotten older my ability to tolerate fools (as in psalm 14:1) has waned.

This will take a little tweaking of the mythology. Santa and his elves live at the North Pole where they compile a list of who is naughty, who is nice, and who is Nicean. On Christmas Eve, flying reindeer pull his sleigh full of gifts. And after he comes down the chimney, he will steal into the rooms of people dreaming of sugarplums who think they can do without Christ and slap them awake.

The article lists the new carols, and the many reasons someone might receive a Christmas Slap as a gift. Please go read it here.

...Nicks

Strength

I'm simply in awe of this man's composure in the most trying of times:

Indianapolis Colts head coach Tony Dungy made a brief statement to the media Tuesday morning after the funeral of his son, James, who died of an apparent suicide last Thursday in suburban Tampa.

"Thank you for the love, the prayers and the support that we've received from the people of Tampa, the people of Indianapolis and the people all over the country," Dungy said.

"They've been very, very great and gracious to us in a time of grief for our family. We loved our son very much. He loved us and we miss him terribly. We also understand that we have some tremendous promises from God and God promises to be with us. He's with us in the great times. He's with us in the tough times.

"Our family will stand strong. The strength that we have in the Lord will allow us to get through this, just as we get through times of victory.

"Our grief is great, but from our family we just say thank you to everyone. We appreciate everybody that's touched his life, everybody that's been a part of him growing up.

"James was a good young man with a compassionate heart. We were glad to have him for 18 years. We are also glad that he accepted Christ as his savior, so that God has him now for the rest of eternity. Thank you."

I pray that I'll never know the heartache this man and his family are experiencing and yet I pray also that I might be granted half of his strength and his composure should it ever come.  What a testament to God's presence and God's influence and God's gift of faith and grace.

God continue to be with the Dungy family.  Things will never be the same for them.

LaShawn Barber: Kwanzaa is "a made up anti-Christian observance"

She is unmerciful in her critique:

For decades, the media have given credence to many a self-appointed black “leader,” no matter how outrageous. Now they’re doing the same with a pagan ritual called Kwanzaa, a so-called African-American holiday.

A made-up, anti-Christian observance, Kwanzaa is celebrated by blacks who profess Christ. In our politically correct climate, even President George Bush, a believer in Christ, feels obligated to praise this ritual.

[All holidays are made up! True. But in this context, here is what I meant: Kwanzaa is a jumble of political ideology, pseudo-cultural, and spiritualized “African” rituals. Unlike Christmas, the Christian observance of the birth of the Savior, Kwanzaa isn’t a deep-rooted, historical, or true observance of anything African. An ex-convict created a faux African Christmas replacement for black folks.]

Kwanzaa was invented in 1966 by Dr. Maulana “Ron” Karenga, a former black militant, Marxist and convicted felon. Claiming to have the unity of black people in mind, Karenga committed most of his crimes against blacks.

Just five years after his invention, he was convicted of torturing two black women by stripping them naked, beating them with electrical cords, placing a hot iron into the mouth of one and mangling the toe of the other in a vice. During the ordeal, he forced them to drink detergent.

[Hey, we all have a past, including me. I just thought this information was important to note.]

But I digress.

Observed from December 26 to January 1, this “alternative” to Christmas is based on a mixture of East African harvest rituals called first fruits — according to Karenga — and 1960s radicalism, although most ancestors of black Americans were from West Africa.

[I cringe when I read news stories that assert Kwanzaa is a “celebration of black culture.” ]

Participants acknowledge their African roots and promote seven, harmless-sounding principles — unity, self-determination, collective work and responsibility, cooperative economics, purpose, creativity and faith.

While they sound commendable, the guiding principle behind Kwanzaa is based on race, not on faith in the one true living God and Savior, Jesus Christ.

Paganism is a “religion of nature.” Those who practice it and other New Age fallacies see the divine in the created — humans, sun, moon, stars, trees — instead of the Creator. Christians who worship created beings are acting like pagans. It’s that simple.

I suggest reading it all.  It will surely rile many.

Secrets to a good marriage

Alysa at World magazine's blog is soliciting secrets to newlywed bliss.  Here's what I left over there:

In June, my wife and I will celebrate 25 years together as a married couple.

I wish I could pinpoint for others the secret to that success.

I can't.

Except to say that my wife is a unique person. Beautiful inside and out, having the ability to lift me when I'm low and tether me when I'm flying a little too freely.

She's not just my lover but my best friend, my confidante, a trusted advisor and a shelter for stormy times.

Our beginning brought turmoil to my family yet our relationship is fodder for the mindset that believes in silver linings.

So maybe I do know the secret to a sound marriage.

It's marrying a girl like my wife.

I mean every word.

Best laid plans

I'd set out to find something I thought to be appropriate and thankfully found something within minutes on the blogroll.

Mike's post of Bruce Cockburn's Cry Of A Tiny Babe seemed perfect:

Mary grows a child without the help of a man
Joseph get upset because he doesn't understand
Angel comes to Joseph in a powerful dream
Says "God did this and you're part of his scheme"
Joseph comes to Mary with his hat in his hand
Says "forgive me I thought you'd been with some other man"
She says "what if I had been - but I wasn't anyway and guess what
I felt the baby kick today"

Like a stone on the surface of a still river
Driving the ripples on forever
Redemption rips through the surface of time
In the cry of a tiny babe

There are others who know about this miracle birth
The humblest of people catch a glimpse of their worth
For it isn't to the palace that the Christ child comes
But to shepherds and street people, hookers and bums
And the message is clear if you've got ears to hear
That forgiveness is given for your guilt and your fear
It's a Christmas gift you don't have to buy
There's a future shining in a baby's eyes

Like a stone on the surface of a still river
Driving the ripples on forever
Redemption rips through the surface of time
In the cry of a tiny babe

The child is born in the fullness of time
Three wise astrologers take note of the signs
Come to pay their respects to the fragile little king
Get pretty close to wrecking everything
'Cause the governing body of the whole land
Is that of Herod, a paranoid man
Who when he hears there's a baby born King of the Jews
Sends death squads to kill all male children under two
But that same bright angel warns the parents in a dream
And they head out for the border and get away clean

Like a stone on the surface of a still river
Driving the ripples on forever
Redemption rips through the surface of time
In the cry of a tiny babe

Cry of a Tiny Babe
Bruce Cockburn
From the album Nothing But a Burning Light

Armed with this moving piece, newly printed and tucked into my shirt pocket, the Brutally Honest household set out for Mom and Dad's and our annual Christmas feast with the rest of the family.

Lesson for the learned and the wise. 

What seems to be inspiring, prayerful, thoughtful and a perfect reminder of what we're to celebrate on Christmas day when alone with a laptop may not necessarily be so inspiring, thoughtful, prayerful and remindful when amongst a group of 9 hungry adults, 3 fidgety kids and a gaggle of bored teenagers, all of whom have yet to eat a major meal and have been anticipating the 3 PM feast since travelling over the river and through the woods to get to grandmother's house.

About a third through Bruce's prose, someone mistook the percolating coffee maker to be the noise made when Mom's turkey gravy has caught fire.  Needless to say, the mood had been broken.

Like a fool, once we had re-gathered, I attempted to begin again.  It didn't take me long to be distracted by someone on my left shifting their weight from one foot to the other, by someone on my right doing the exact same thing and by someone else eliciting a sigh that had "are we there yet" attached all over it.

So I quickly finished, leaving a portion of Bruce's inspiration unread, and turned things back over to Mom, who ended my less than inspiring attempt to say Grace by thanking God for family and by praying emotionally for Dad's well being (he begins his final chemo treatment on Tuesday).

Moral of the story...

... never attempt to be inspirational until after the food has been served, the coffe maker has been turned off, and you have a captive audience. 

Even if you're about to read Bruce Cockburn.

UPDATE (AS AN ASIDE): My endorsement of this particular Cockburn song should in no way be viewed by anyone as an endorsement of Cockburn's perspective on a number of different issues.  Carry on.

MORE: Want to be inspired?  Want to read something good over that morning cup of java or an evening's cocktail?  Then head over to American Digest and read Gerard Vanderleun's The Creche by the Side of the Road.  The guy's an artist.  You'll not regret the time spent.