Well, if he says it is, that’s good enough for me. As long as we have a voucher! (I wonder if he realizes he, appropriately, has a giant phallus on his head?) His speech was 3 hours long, FYI.
This weekend thousands of North Korean officials convened in Pyongyang to attend a rare Workers’ Party Congress, the first in nearly four decades. The nation’s leader, Kim Jong-un, struck a diplomatic tone regarding the nation’s nuclear ambitions. North Korea “will faithfully fulfill its obligation for non-proliferation and strive for global denuclearization,” he said in a…
This describes a future America, if things don’t change soon for the better. All of these conditions are Democrat talking points, however I wouldn’t expect any to be able to see that it describes their policies exactly. When you exist on “Hope” and violently yell “We can,” at everyone when reality and history clearly illustrate you can’t, of course you’re going to think the outcome will be different this time. (That is, if you’re even aware of possible consequences and what’s really going on in the world, which is pretty complex to say the least, so that’s a large set of assumptions.)
I never expected to witness the slow suicide of a country, a civilization. I suppose nobody does.
Let me tell you, there’s nothing epic about it. We who have the privilege of travel often look down in satisfaction at the ruins of ancient Greece; the Parthenon lit up in blues and greens. The acropolis. The Colosseum in Rome. We walk through the dusty streets of Timbuktu and gaze in wonder at the old mud mosques as we reflect on when these places had energy and purpose. They are not sad musings, for those of us who are tourists. Time has polished over the disaster. Now all that is left are great old buildings that tell a story of when things were remarkable – not of how they quietly fell away. “There was no reason, not really,” we tell each other as we disembark our air-conditioned buses. “These things just happen…
Want to learn more about politics and economics? What better time?
This is an excellent piece to help explain some of the situations the US is currently in, and how I’ve come to hold many of the political and economic beliefs that I do. As a libertarian, I subscribe to many, not all, of these tenets, and if you take the time to read Ayn Rand‘s seminal work, Atlas Shrugged, as well as this piece (or at least this article) by Edward W. Younkins, I think you’ll see why I view things the way I, and many others, do.
In addition to this work, I’ve spent no small amount of time studying its topics and have been surrounded by political types my whole life. Politics are a thing in some people’s families, and not so much in others’, I’ve noticed. Unless it’s “pop politics” or a political topic du jour, as designated by the mass media, most people don’t bother to workshop their theories or even research the basic viability. Most politicians don’t either. Politicians would make horrible marketers. They make fine snake-oil salesmen, but not legitimate marketers.
If you’re interested in making America a better place, this is worth a read, along with Ayn Rand’s works. Atlas Shrugged being the foremost, and Fountainhead.
I grew up around cars and although I don’t know as much as some mechanics that repair cars for a living, I can hold my own in a garage. And through the years I’d estimate I’ve gone through about 20 cars, and driven a lot more than that, whether that’s me being a designated driver of a Rolls Royce or in a rental car as I was last week, and drove a Jaguar XF for several days.
But if I could only have one car, this would be it. Guards Red Porsche 356n with tan interior. Perfect. Of course, I’d also need the cabrio for those days you can’t have a top. Birthday’s in May.
The following entry is the sermon given on Sunday, January 10, 2016 in St. Andrew’s Chapel by Headmaster Byron Hulsey:
“These are the times that try men’s souls. Winters here are awful. Regardless of how much fun your break was, how awesome your spring break plans are, in this stretch from now until early March, more than any other time, you will wonder what you’re doing here.” So writes our friend Publius in a recent edition of The Anarchist. Now Publius and I don’t agree on everything, but he’s certainly right about this: winter at Woodberry is tough. It’s cold, it’s dark, and it’s gloomy. Guys don’t feel well, struggling to shake a cold before it turns to bronchitis, doing everything possible to avoid the stomach virus when it starts to rifle through the dorms. The academic load can seem unrelenting, the teachers unceasing in their high standards…
Those other places may have their fracking fortunes and drone businesses, and some may be raking in money for simply legalizing a plant, and others may be getting ready for driverless cars and infrastructures that support fiber and electric vehicles, but Kentucky makes booze!
It’s a good thing Kentucky has some coal left in the ground and basketball to watch, otherwise, it’s a pretty irrelevant state heading into in the 21st century.
It’s a great privilege to welcome you here to this special place at the start of the 127th year at Woodberry Forest. I want to offer a warm welcome to all 128 new boys. I hope and trust that no matter where you are from you will come to think of Woodberry as a second home, the community of teachers and coaches and fellow students that cared for you and challenged you and shaped you at the most formative time in your life. Thirty-two years ago, my parents dropped me off at Woodberry as a new boy fourth former. From the moment I came on campus I had a feeling I have never shaken, a feeling that I might have had fleetingly in other places, but never so enduringly as I do at Woodberry Forest: Here I feel big and small at the same time. Right away, as a…