Dog whispering

(audio and video to be added shortly; 

i just had to purge this from within me right now, now, now)

We got new neighbors on or about March 1, 2012.

A young couple of some sort of darker ethnic descent...and their puppy.

On day one, my husband mentioned that it sounded as though they were somewhat rough with their dog.

"Oh," said I.

The dog's name is Kilo, a beautiful white pit bull.

I learned the dog's name the weekend they moved in.

Boom!  Bash!  Bam!!  The walls vibrated with what sounded and felt like impacts...punctuated by the screams of a dog and the curses of a seething man.

"I'm gonna kill you Kilo!"

Ya know...my family...we are cat people.  My mom didn't allow any animals in our house growing up...and only once in my adulthood did my husband and I venture into dog territory; the end result wasn't pretty.  The dog's name had been "Go Away", which our good friend Robert T. Moore named her before his suicide.  We took the dog in -- a Rottweiler mix; I named her "Ladylove" because of her sweet gentle disposition, and I loved the dog because of Rob.


But what did I know about dogs?  She seemed so stupid and was always licking herself, and my husband kept training her to beg for food.  I will never forget the day that Lady first went into heat -- I was thunderstruck to see blood dripping from her nether regions!  I mean, I thought God cursed HUMAN women with menstrual blood...ya mean to tell me ALL FEMALES OF EVERY SPECIES WERE CURSED WHEN EVE ATE THE APPLE??? And when Lady bent her head and began to lap up the blood she was dripping behind her, I nearly fainted.  


My husband and I argued about how to train the dog, and how to walk the dog, and at one point, our marriage stood upon shaky ground because of our disagreement over the dog.  We ended up giving the dog to the Humane Society because...well, just because we couldn't properly care for our dog -- at least, not the way she deserved to be cared for.  I spent years and years dreaming about the dog and feeling guilty about yelling at her and not walking her and keeping her chained in our yard. 

Ladylove was one of the three dogs I have loved in my lifetime.  The second was a dogt named "Little Man"...a red-nosed pit bull dog that lived at the trailer behind me in Stratmoor Valley.  That was the hardest winter of my life:  the winter of no electricity, no heat, no running water, no car, no husband, no children...and each day I thought I might die from freezing or heartbreak.  Little Man was the only bright light during that winter of my discontent...then, one day, someone stole him out of my neighbors' yard.  I wept and wept, and prayed for his return, but I never saw Little Man again.  I, too, dreamed of him for years afterward.

Kilo is the third dog I have ever loved.  I have listened to his pitiful cries and moans and screams and sobs for four months now, and am literally being driven insane by the sadness of the sound.

The perpetrator...the dog's master...waits until his young girlfriend has left the apartment.  Then, he shuts the dog up in the bedroom for six, seven hours...refusing to let the dog out.  Kilo waits, quietly, patiently, until the onset of the urge to relieve himself. Then he begins to whine -- just one whine, so as not to bother anyone.  One whine turns into two...and into three and then four; the dog begins to bark, low and quiet, as though he is asking his owner to please open the door and let me out.  But the asshole doesn't.  The dog becomes increasingly frantic, barking out of the window now for someone to please help him because he has to go so bad and doesn't want to make a mess on the carpet.  But of course no one comes.  The dog's barking reaches a pitiful crescendo before morphing into a mournful wail, and then sobs.


Who knew that a dog actually sobbed?  I didn't know.  I wish I never knew the sounds that dogs can make...whether incessant barking, howling after a fire siren, or begging for its life...

I press my ear up to the wall...listening.  The dog's "master", a 20 year old thug POS, eventually saunters into the room to find what I imagine is a wet spot and a warm turd on the carpet.  I envision the dog hiding under the bed, terrified of what's about to come; I myself begin to tremble...like the dog, knowing what's about to happen, and praying it will be brief...

And then it begins.  Though I want to so badly, I can't pull myself away from the wall, listening as the owner roughly drags Kilo out from under the bed by his paws and begins to strike him in the face with an open-handed slap again and again and again.  I hear the dog snort and hmmpf, and I can see him in my mind's eye, squinting and wincing...a look of fearful expectation on his face.

My imagination runs wild from the sounds that I hear:  it sounds like the owner holds the dog's snout shut while tormenting him -- with what, I don't know, but he doesn't stop until Kilo begins to yelp.  The owner lets loose his snout, because the noise the dog is making is music to his ears.  Kilo yelps and runs for his life, galloping through the apartment in a vain attempt to escape.  The owner follows him, hissing under his breath as he grabs the dog by the scruff of his neck and begins shaking him violently.

Sometimes, Kilo will growl at his owner at this point; other times, he doesn't.  The beating he receives is always far worse if he does growl.  "Oh, you think you gonna growl at ME?!?" says the thug with outrage.

He begins to punch the dog -- it's the only explanation for the wailing that comes next; the punches are followed what sounds to be the owner slamming the dog;'s head into furniture, into doors and walls...into whatever is nearby and will hurt the dog.  Then come the body slams -- yes, what I'm saying is that the owner picks the dog up over his shoulders and then throws the dog down with all his might; what else could possibly cause such loud bangs and crashes?  The whole of our apartment shakes each time the dog makes impact.  The sound of the dog getting kicked in the side and stomach is enough to make any person weep.  I've heard the sound of a dog getting hit by a car before -- and that's the sound Kilo makes...a horrible, nightmarish belching sound; breathless; terrified.  And so so very very sorry for making that mess on the carpet...


The owner begins to stomp the dog, causing the most awful screams and howls and yelps; by now I am weeping along with the dog, who shrieks his canine emotions with every blow.  The owner does not stop beating Kilo until the dog is nearly silent -- I imagine a broken rag doll of a dog, tongue lolling out of his mouth...a dazed and baffled expression on its face as the owner winds down the vicious attack.  Panting -- both man and dog are by now winded.  After a moment or two, the owner takes the dog outside to do its business.  I am astonished to see the animal standing...to see the animal moving without a visible limp...Though I am hidden behind my curtains, I see the dog glance at me quickly before the owner takes him back inside and shuts it back up in the bedroom.


Of course it goes without saying the owner DOES NOT pick up after the dog -- so, as if forcing everyone within screaming distance to eavesdrop on this poor animal's torture weren't enough, we neighbors must then tiptoe through the grass or else end up with tortured dog poo on our feet.


Don't ask me why I haven't called the police:  my husband and I believed we had literally overhead the dog being killed the first day our new neighbors moved in; indeed, in my haste to get to the phone, I leapt off our bed and caused one of our laptops to fall off the bed and onto the floor, breaking the screen.  The police came and talked to the people; they looked at the dog, and then they left.  Later that day, the dog took a more severe beating.  Indeed, every time we have called the police, and at this point, we have called at least seven times, they leave without taking the dog, and I can't for the life of me figure out why.  I don't know why the dog isn't limping, or bleeding...I don't know why the dog is still alive.

I am not a dog person; I think dogs are really dumb and smell bad and are a lot of needless trouble.  But I love this dog Kilo so much.//

I went to the Humane Society once about it...took the kids with me and everything.  We waited two hours to talk with someone, only to be told by the responding officer that there was nothing they could do; the audio I had didn't prove anything -- how were they to know I didn't have some kind of beef with the dog's owner?  How were they to know the sounds were of my neighbor's dog, and not someone else's?  I told him I didn't care about dogs, I don't even like dogs really, but the sound of the dog's screams were such that I couldn't sleep or eat or think out of pity for the poor dog...and later, at home, I wept afresh for the poor dog.

Other neighbors have complained.  Today, I complained to the leasing office...and finally got through to a number where someone sounded like they actually cared.  I was told that animal control would visit the apartment some time today and check on the animal.  I cautioned him:  if you need me to call you when the abuse is actually taking place, please let me know, because I will; I will wait until its happening so it can all be proven, because the police have come out again and again...but they leave the dog to remain in its awful hell, and I cannot bear the thought of the dog's next beating, which will surely be worse than the one before it...

My name is Spydra.  I'm a cat person who loves a white pit bull dog named Kilo.  I am a dog whisperer, for Kilo whispers to me; he also screams and cries and sobs.  I whisper back to him through the paper-thin walls, encouraging him and letting him know that we love him and that he's not alone.

But he is alone, and there's not much else I can do about it, and I don't know what else to do except pray.

Please pray for this beautiful, mild, sweet-tempered dog; please pray that he is removed from these people, and that the perpetrator is punished -- please kick his ass if you know him.

Thanks.

Culture shock - stoned in Dearborn

You know, it's been a year since I wrote about the Muslim issue, or the Muslims who moved in next door to me, who turned out to be Iraqi, not Saudi, as I'd originally posted.



About the Muslims next door: 

• The father ran into my car when I wasn't home; he left a note and had insurance -- yay!

• The mother asked me to help her kids with their homework, and I did.  I went to visit them once to explain some school work while they were watching their favorite Iraqi television show - it was all about a love relationship in the midst of war.  The protagonist woman was shot, and at that moment, all of the people in the apartment -- mother, 6-year-old boy, 5-year-old boy, and 2-year-old girl -- started clapping their hands and shouting at the television:  "F*CK HIM!! F*CK THAT MOTHER F*CKER!"  I was stunned, and told the 6-year-old boy, "That's a very bad word in English, you shouldn't say that."  He looked at me smiling and said, "WELL F*CK THAT MOTHER F*CKER!"  I left, chalking it up to culture shock and meanings lost in translation.

• The mother once caused her 2-year-old daughter to cry for 48 hours straight; at times, it sounded as though she was shaking the girl and/or causing her to trip and fall on her face. The child's crying was pitiful, and I wondered, what could she have done to deserve such brutal treatment?

• Not sure about all that subservient-woman jazz; once, the mom had a fit, and everyone but her fled their apartment in fear.

• The older boys, in their early teens, all call each other "niggah" and its annoying to the point of exasperation; they said it so many times at the pool the other day, each time glancing over at me mirthfully, that I had to bite my tongue from telling them that they're often referred to as "sand niggahs" and to shut the f*ck up.

I dunno, folks...just thought I'd share.

FAITH UNDER FIRE

See Muslim mob stone Christians – in U.S.!

Hundreds chant, 'Allahu Akbar!' while hurling urine, eggs, bottles, concrete

Published: 4 days ago

It happened in an American city: Hundreds of angry Muslim children and adults rioted against Christians, throwing chunks of concrete and eggs at their heads, spraying them with urine and cursing at them – while police stood by and threatened the victims with “disorderly conduct.”

The city of Dearborn, Mich., hosted its annual 2012 Arab International festival on Father’s Day weekend. As can be seen in a video of the attack, a group of people professing to be Christians holding signs was viciously assaulted by an angry mob of Arabs – as the crowd chanted “Allahu Akbar!” – Arabic for “God is the greatest!”

Starting at the 9:00 mark and continuing to about the 10:30 mark, the crowd – reminiscent of a rock-throwing “intifada” scene from the Middle East – can be seen hurling a dizzying barrage of objects at the Christians standing passively with their signs, causing some injuries.

WND later learned that the Christian crowd had been carrying a pole with a pig’s head attached to the top, further angering the Muslim crowd. At the beginning of the video, Christian street preachers shout, “God is good, and God is not Allah!”

First, police approached Ruben Israel of OfficialStreetPreachers.com, warning him, “The city of Dearborn has an ordinance, OK, that you guys can’t use the megaphone. So, if you guys continue to use that, you will get a citation.”

Israel noted that the group was allowed to use the megaphone in 2011. Then he asked the officer, “So, if we don’t use a megaphone, can we throw water bottles at the crowd?”

The officer shook his head no.

“So what are you going to do if they throw water bottles at us?” Israel asked.

“If that happens, we will take care of that and address it,” the officer promised.

When Israel said he had captured the mob’s assault on the Christians on video, the officer suggested he “take it through the proper channels, and we’ll try to find them.”

However, at the 2:17 mark of the video, the mob can be heard screaming, “You want to jump ‘em? C’mon, let’s go!”

One boy yells, “Let’s beat the sh-t out of them!”

A girl shouts, “Go home! Do you understand English?!”

The Christians are no longer using megaphones, as the mob advances on them from all angles – hurling bottles, cans, eggs, chunks of concrete and even milk crates toward their heads.

Even young children shout obscenities such as, “F—k you, b-tch!”

Meanwhile, police are nowhere to be seen in the video.

One of the Christians asks another, “Is this worse than last year?”

He replies, “Oh my goodness, yeah!! This is insanity.”

At the 6:55 mark, an irate 18-year-old man from Iraq gets into the Christians’ faces, screaming, “If you don’t like Dearborn, then go the f—k back home! … I am an American citizen, and I have my rights. There’s freedom of religion, isn’t there?”

He screams, “So why do you guys pray like this on the bank? Oh Lord. Why don’t you get on the ground, like the prophets, huh? You’re Christian. That’s what it says in the Bible, you stupid sh-t!”
Many minutes into the video and after much of the shouting takes place, Dearborn mounted police ride through the crowd. The video states that no arrests were made.

According to the tape, the mob began chucking more stones, bottles and debris as the Christians were injured and property damaged.

“Dearborn Police finally arrive after 30 mins of assault,” a caption states.

Despite the attacks the Christians had endured, a man identified in the video as Deputy Chief Dennis Richardson of the Wayne County Sheriff’s Office tells them, “You’re a danger to the safety right now.”

Officers claim they don’t have the manpower to protect the Christians at the festival.

“Your safety is in harm’s way. You need to protect everybody,” said Deputy Chief Mike Jaafar of the Wayne County Sheriff’s Office. “You do have the option to leave. I just want to make that clear.”

Israel replied, “You have the option to stand with us” as Jaafar walked away, leaving the Christians to the mob.

When police leave, the crowd continues harassing the Christians and screaming profanities.
Then police begin escorting the Christians away from the crowd.

Deputy Chief Richardson tells Israel, “We have the responsibility of policing the entire festival, and obviously your conduct is such that it’s causing a disturbance and is a direct threat to the safety of everyone here. Someone could get hurt. You already have blood on your face. One of the festival people, one of my officers, anybody can get hurt. Now we’re going to escort you out.”

Israel explains that the mob throws things and becomes more aggressive when police leave the scene.
“Part of the reason that they throw things on someone is because you tell them stuff that enrages them,” Richardson argues.

Israel tells Richardson that the Christians aren’t even saying anything to the crowd at this point.
“We’re not even preaching,” he said. “So it’s obviously the signs. Now the signs are going to be illegal? … My thing is, if we could have a couple of officers there, that would kind of keep ‘em at bay.”

Richardson insists that the Christians leave, telling Israel, “You’re going to leave now. We’re escorting you that way.”

Israel resists, saying, “We can’t do that.”

But Deputy Chief Jaafar re-enters the scene and tells him, “It’s not your call. We’ve been very gentle and very, very respectful to you. You are jeopardizing public safety, and you need to understand it’s going overboard. … You’re attracting a crowd and affecting public safety, and you need to understand that.”

Richardson asks Israel, “How many bottles or objects have you been hit with?”

He replies, “Uh, I lost count. It’s only because you guys weren’t around. We have video of that.”

Israel also tells him, “We did try to contact the sheriff. The problem is, he didn’t respond. We did try to contact the city attorney…. The reason this is going on now is because of what happened last year. What happened last year is you allowed it to escalate into this. And so, you guys just lost a lawsuit on free speech, and you want to do it again.”

Another Christian asks Richardson, “Why don’t you get us a bullpen that we asked for in the email?”
“OK, that’s a free-speech zone,” he replied. “And the Chamber of Commerce decided that they did not want a free-speech zone.”

At that, he insisted once again that the Christians leave.

Israel argues that the officers are jeopardizing free speech.

“Let me ask you this: If we don’t leave, are we going to get arrested?” he asked.

“Probably, we will cite you all, yes,” Richardson tells him, adding, “You are a danger to public safety. You’re disorderly.

Israel replies, “I would assume 200 angry Muslim children throwing bottles would be more of a threat than a few guys with signs.”

The Christians tell one another: “If they make us leave right now, they reward riotous behavior.”

A woman steps in to speak with the officers, and then they tell the Christians, “If you don’t leave, we are going to cite you for disorderly conduct. … Look at your people, here. This is crazy! Now let’s go.”

After they leave, the Christians are pulled over in their van by at least 12 police officers. The video does not explain why.

The "O" in "Homely", Brochelle Obama

first lady of style she ain't

Michelle Obama's "good" side

Sometimes, all the politics, intrigue, and corruption starts to get me down.  When that happens, I do my best to try and find silver linings in and out among the clouds.  

Men have football to take their minds off of things...but truth be told, I hate football. I'm pretty poor at all sports in general, and as such, I dislike all sports, pretty much, really; I think sports are dumb.  Said dislike at least in part explains my total disdain for the "Olympic Movement."

Fashion is to women what sports are to men, I figure.  It relaxes us in some strange way to look at other women and watch how they rock their look - or not; it relaxes me, at any rate.  So today we'll become a bit more fashion savvy thanks to our national fashion icon, FLOTUS Michelle Obama.

The press has been so very kind to First Lady of the United States, Michelle Obama...championing her Let's Move! Campaign, gobbling up her White House garden growth, and nodding approvingly at her keen fashion sense. Indeed, People magazine included Obama in their 100 Most Beautiful People list.

I, however, am not of the same opinion, and do not share the mainstream media's enthusiasm for Michelle Obama's look.  To me, it just seems that there are some folks who want to embrace the thought of a black first family so much that they're willing to overlook the obvious.



I’ve read more than one article comparing Michelle Obama’s style to that of Jacqueline Kennedy.

Born beautiful.

Classy by nature.

Yeah, sure, ok. 

Please:  There's simply no comparison between the two women.

I become physically uneasy when contemplating Obama's
penchant for loud prints and clothes that cinch right under her blah bust-line.

Just one example of Michelle Obama's
want for taste,  fashion sense, and a clue.

Michelle Obama is hardly the black Jackie O, who always had style, and rocked it; no, Shelly O is much more the black Elly Ro.

Eleanor Roosevelt

Michelle Obama - eternally awkward

In Dutch, the expression is "Niet moeder's mooiste" which translates to "not mother's prettiest"...and wow, does it ever fit in this circumstance.  Excepting for time and differences in hue, Shelly and Elly could be body doubles.  It would seem that both women were hit very hard with the exact same ugly stick -- perhaps they’re distant kinfolk, I dunno...at least we know what Michelle Obama would look like if she were white; we also know what she looked like in the past and how she'll look in the future.

Yesterday's Michelle Huxtable-Obama

Tomorrow's Michelle Obama-Sanford

On a side note...check it out:  our leaders are all kin to each other...and it sure can lead one to wonder about the effects of generational inbreeding.

Call me lookist, but I just can't see myself horizontally bopping with such a motley muttley crew by choice, I don't give a damn what type of pedigree papers they're holding.  Looking back over the presidents of the United States,  there is no presidential model of mom's boyfriend; Lyndon Johnson came close but no cigar...and mom's evil boyfriend Dick Cheney only made it to Vice President.  Barack Obama, however, has NEVER been one of mom's boyfriends.

Speaking as one strongly of the heterosexual persuasion, I must say I prefer the red-blooded common man to most of our leaders -- especially our exotic POTUS,thank you very much.  Lots of women have confessed to desiring Mr. Obama, and dreaming of sexual encounters with him.  But I never have thought Obama was good-looking...have always considered him strangely metrosexual, strangely un-black, strangely un-American, strangely un-presidential, strangely inhuman....just strange -- I mean Mitt Romney-strange, folks, and looking worse each passing day.

I took a look at Michelle Obama’s family to get a better understanding of her facial resemblance and such – after all, consider the striking resemblance between Obama senior and junior -- like two drops of water, no?  Consider his resemblance to any one of  his many kinfolk -- uncanny, no?  I swear, the Obama family intrasimilarity is flat-out staggering -- these people could pass as TWINS, friends.

Barack Hussein Obama, Sr., Barry's dad

Stanley Ann Dunham, Barry's mom

Obama's half-brother, son of Barack Obama Sr.

Obama's half-sister, daughter of Stanley Ann Dunham

Barack Obama with his Kenyan kin

Barry Soetoro with his Indonesian kin

Here’s a snapshot of Michelle’s pa, ma, and her big brah. Mr. and Mrs. Robinson are not necessarily bad-looking; indeed, Gramma Robinson actually looks sorta pretty, despite her resemblance to her daughter.

Tell me that Michelle Obama DOESN'T look like a baby monkey in this pic

While shades of Michelle Obama are visible in the faces of her parents, the family resemblance between brother and sister is absolutely unmistakable. They both have the exact same face.

Mr. and Mrs. Craig Robinson

Big bro and little sis

Robinson coaches basketball for the University of Oregon. Here’s a pic of Mr. and Mrs. Craig. Robinson...which leads me again to ask of Obama once again:

Ya know...I was joshin' about how much Barack Obama resembles his alleged family -- he doesn't...AT ALL.  But just the opposite is true of Michelle Obama and brother Craig.  Here are a few examples demonstrating said similarities -- Craig Robinson looks just like Michelle Obama sans makeup and airbrush:

Despite all the talk and rhetoric about how *together*and in love the Obamas are...I just don't buy it.  I don't think there's even a smidgen of chemistry between them...and their love story literally reeks of horse manure.  I do not believe Barack and Michelle Obama discuss their kids, sex, work, exercise, diet, or how their garden doth grow...


No, this is what the Obamas talk about behind closed doors:

GORILLA COOKIES -- LOL!!!!

Ah, well, as they say, love is blind...and that’s gotta be something for which Michelle Obama must give thanks each time her face shatters glass.
 

I have a good friend who has an eye for the ladies, I mean, a real wolf-whistlin' girl-watchin' he-man who tries hard to identify at least one positive attribute in every woman he sees; on the subject of Michelle Obama, his diagnosis was quick; her affliction: "butter face."

“What’s ‘butter face’,”  I asked?

“It’s all good -- but her face!” 

I don't think any of her looks good, though; Michelle Obama puts the "O" in "homely".

The hypocrite talks about craving state-fair-food-on-a-stick...and talks about something rearing up its ugly head -- by now we all know that the ugly-headed entity she's talking about above is her own reflection. I am struck by how every word she spoke back then was a huge lie in the making...and moreover, *struck* by how horribly horribly ugly she is.

Horse pucky;
she doesn't tend this garden, she has a gigantic staff to hoe her rows for her.

Personally, I resent Michelle Obama’s “Let's Move!” campaign – who does she think she is?   Her body shape is less than desirable, she’s none too slim, and I’m sorry, but she really, truly, honestly reminds me of a yeti -- particularly in how she lumbers.  She should worry less about whether or not our kids are too fat (I think her daughter Sasha is fat -- now what?), and more about improving her posture; after all, as with obesity, there are manifold physical maladies associated with poor posture that affect our national health.  Learning to walk in high heels would be a step in the right direction.  A crash course in color coordination could do wonders, along with a gym bag -- for her face…

I really don’t expect Michelle Obama to ever cultivate some style; as our own Jan Tanner proved a long time ago, you either got it or you don’t.  I have it, but usually don’t have enough money to afford it; Michelle Obama and Jan Tanner can easily afford it -- they just don't have any.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. What Michelle and Barack Obama both demonstrate is that beauty is only skin deep; but ugly go all the way down to the bone.  Let's not have four more years of their ugly mugs.

Proud to be American

Rik Clay, Part I

originally posted 3/13/2011; 
i'm re-running this in recognition of the upcoming olympics and mitt romney's connection to them


This gifted and insightful researcher purportedly took his own life shortly after this interview at age 26; his blog vanished from the internet the same day.

If you have the time, stamina and attention-span, this is simply a must-view.

Rik Clay, Part II

Rik Clay, part I is essentially his build-up & background material;
Part II is essentially his prophesy.

Ron Paul is RomneyObama's Monster

Ron Paul's Maine, Nevada, and Iowa Victories (Despite Romney Dirty Tricks)
Brian Doherty | May 6, 2012



As Ron Paul's much-vaunted, little-understood "delegate strategy" continues, he wins yet another state (far too late to get media credit or momentum for it), Maine. That is, "wins" as in, the majority of delegates from that state seem set to vote for him at the Republican National Convention in Tampa in August. AP with the newsy details:

Ron Paul supporters took control of the Maine Republican Convention and elected a majority slate supporting the Texas congressman to the GOP national convention, party officials said. The results gave the Texas congressman a late state victory.

In votes leading to the close of the two-day Maine convention, Paul supporters were elected to 21 of the 24 delegate spots from Maine to the GOP national convention in Tampa, Fla. The 24th delegate's seat goes to party Chairman Charles Webster, who has remained uncommitted throughout the process.

Making the Paul takeover complete was the election of Paul supporters to a majority of the state committee seats.....Romney won the February straw poll with 39 percent of the vote to Paul's 36 percent. Rick Santorum trailed with 18 percent and Newt Gingrich got 6 percent.

The story says that Romney's people aren't afraid Paul can stymie their victory, but are "mindful not to do or say anything that might anger Paul's loyal supporters." A Maine Paul fan insists she found a secret Romney supporter distributing fake slates of Paul-leaning delegates. The same is reported from Nevada, where Paul also won the most delegates this weekend (though they are bound by party rules to vote for Romney anyway), more details on that below.

*The Des Moines Register sums up the situation going out of Iowa as of now (though it ain't over yet):
The majority of Iowans on the list to go to Tampa for the GOP national convention could be aligned with Ron Paul, a presidential candidate who represents a movement focused on limited government and constitutional principles.

Of the 13 delegates and 13 alternates nominated Saturday for the national convention in Florida, just one has publicly endorsed Mitt Romney for president: Gov. Terry Branstad. And just three others publicly supported Rick Santorum, who won the Iowa caucuses but is no longer in the race.

The national delegate slate is far from complete, but if the Paul trend in the Iowa delegation continues, the upshot will be that the Iowa caucuses essentially had three winners: Romney on caucus night, Santorum after the certified vote, and Paul in the delegate count....

The at-large delegates nominated Saturday were Branstad, U.S. Sen. Chuck Grassley, Margaret Stoldorf of Red Oak, Michelle Bullock of Ankeny, James Mills of Nora Springs, Steven Anders of Council Bluffs, Roger Leahy of Fairfield, Mark Hansen of Council Bluffs, William Johnson of Dubuque, Lexy Nuzum of Winterset, Andrea Bie of Waterville, David Fischer of Altoona and Drew Ivers of Webster City.

Ten of those 13 have expressed public support for Paul, such as volunteering for his campaign or donating money....

This slate next goes before the state convention in mid-June. It can be amended to replace certain delegates before a final up or down vote.

Six of the eight members of the nominating committee voting on delegates Saturday have public ties to Paul’s campaign and his philosophy of limited government. But they insisted that they elected people they believe are politically active and good Republicans and have no idea who the delegates will back in Tampa. Iowa’s 28 delegates are “unbound,” meaning they aren’t required to vote for a nominee based on the results of the caucuses.

*In Nevada, Paul people won 22 of the 25 national delegate slots open at the end of the Nevada GOP state convention in Sparks this weekend. This is despite dirty tricks from the Romney camp--Romney folk pretending to be Paul folk and distributing fake Paul delegates lists. This is discussed at both the Reno Gazette Journal and Daily Paul.

Paul himself appeared at the convention in Nevada.

More from the Las Vegas Sun on the Paul victory, and how it won't be expressed in actual votes for Paul, since the delegates are bound to follow the results of the February caucus vote, in which Romney won a majority:

But while Paul loyalists will make up the majority of the Nevada delegation, Republican rules require the first vote at the national convention to reflect the results of the Feb. 4 caucus, which Romney easily won.
That means 20 of Nevada’s national delegates must vote for Romney, while eight will be free to vote for Paul in the first balloting.

While some Paul supporters voiced an intention to challenge the binding requirement, the campaign opted not to further antagonize the Republican National Committee, who has threatened not to seat the delegates if they ignore the caucus results and vote for Paul.

“We are sending a strong delegation to Tampa in August,” Paul’s Nevada chairman Carl Bunce said. “There are rumors that (the Paul campaign) will actively work to not follow rules and unbind our delegates. That is false; we are not doing that. Congressman Paul is an individual who wants to follow the rules, follow the Constitution and we follow that lead.”

Jim DeGraffenried, the secretary of the state party, stressed party officials will not allow the national delegation to deviate from the binding caucus results.

“We will not allow anyone to break that,” DeGraffenreid said. “If they do, the will revoke their delegate status and they will be replaced by alternates.”...

National Republican officials characterized the Nevada convention as a “Ron Paul super bowl,” noting that his supporters spent the last four years working to take over the state party structure. They’ve captured seats on state and county central committees, elected a state chairman and elected their own to represent Nevada at the Republican National Committee.

I dreamed of Mitch & Sue

I dreamed of Mitch and Sue Christiansen the other night.

We were at Maggie Mae's restaurant, at the corner booth table between the kithen and the meeting rooms.  Everything was just as it was the last time I saw them - MItch wore a red flannel button-down shirt, Sue in the same soft light-blue sweater she wore the one and only time I met her. They were healthy and hale and together.

Maggie's can seem a bit dark even in the daylight, so I must make mention of how bright it seemed...a bit like when you're watching tv and the picture becomes snowy.

I was seated, and Mitch sat across from me, telling me something with a sense of urgency...lightly striking the table with the palm of his hand to punctuate his statements.  Nodding silently in assent was Sue, who stood beside and slightly behind Mitch, her right hand resting upon his left shoulder.

I tried so hard to listen to what he was saying, but found myself distracted by Deja, a heeler mix who belongs to a friend of mine; gentle Deja trod to and fro behind Sue, and I wondered what she was doing there...

I awoke and told my husband, "I just had a dream about Mitch."  Though bits and pieces of the dream came to me throughout the day, I don't remember what Mitch was saying.

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Strangely  enough, Deja's owner had a dream about *me* on or about the same night as my dream about Mitch; it was a rare nightmare...the subject of which was the USOC and some sort of military invasion.  I didn't dream it, and so I'm not going to tell it; but curiously, Deja the dog appeared in that dream as well, which is why I make note.

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Sue, by the way, worked for Memorial Hospital.

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Like I said...in my dream, everything was as it had been a year ago...and so I've been poring over the communications Mitch and I shared last year for a better understanding of what he was telling me then, and what he may have been telling me in the dream.  The primary subject?  Frank Aries and the Banning-Lewis Ranch Annexation.

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FINAL DREAM INTERPRETATION:

1.  There is a heaven and Mitch and Sue are there together...watching over us and offering whatever intercedance and protection that God will allow.

2.  That my "USOC: Behind it all along" post is likely more accurate than I realize...and there's some kind of USOC/Banning-Lewis Ranch/Memorial Hospital nexus that threatens the unwitting in Colorado Springs.

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Thank You God and Mitch and Sue

for communicating with your children and loved ones in our dreams.

Forever

(from may 2011)

Today, I was privileged enough to witness one of the most beautiful sunsets ever – the celebration of the lives of Mitch and Sue Christiansen.


Mitch’s long time attorney spoke, telling of his history with Mitch, describing the general contractor who took the time to study and learn the law and regulations of the trade. Apparently, Mitch quietly fought off cancer twice…through it all, maintaining his gruff sense of humor and love for his wife and family.


Then spoke the Christiansens' long time neighbors, a couple who lived across the street for years. Best friends, they accompanied the couple on fishing trips and cruises; they told of happy years spent enjoying and knowing one another…laughing and shopping…praying and crying – together.


A beautiful slide show then followed, and all in attendance saw a love story in pictures. 


Mitch and Sue were teenagers when they met and fell in love...a seed planted in the tender green of their youth.  There they were, beaming with joy and love for one another on their wedding day… smiling with uncertain excitement upon the arrival of their children; there was Mitch with a beard, there was Sue cutting Mitch’s hair…a proud grandpa bouncing a grandchild on his knee.


The life and times of a marriage, at once simple and extraordinary. Boy and girl, became man and woman...became husband and wife, and then father and mother. Puppy love. Grown-up love. True love. Endless love.  A love that took them across the miles and time…uniting them -- even unto death, and for eternity.


My husband and I met and fell in love at the age of 15, and have made it through so much together; through thick times and thin...loving and trusting each other, and sticking it out. Thursday, he and I will celebrate our 20th wedding anniversary; I see in the Christiansens our reflection...and visions of what is still to come, and what things may be.


When I first learned the news of their untimely death, I cried with shock and grief; but my sadness is soothed by the beauty of their story...a shared life and love, somehow made only more poignant amidst the woe, and more perfect, despite the tragedy.


How lucky, how *lucky* they both were, to go into that good night together; I can only hope and wish and pray for my husband and I to remain similarly together -- forever.


I am a better person for having made Mitch's acquaintance...blessed by our unique and momentary friendship, and impacted for a lifetime.


Rest in peace, Mitch and Sue.