I’ve finally had enough …

I’m a political junkie.  As if you didn’t know.  I’ve ranted and raved and shared my views oftenTurning Back enough here.

But both the constant Obama bashing and the presidential race are just getting way too ridiculous and I can’t handle it any more.  I’ve got to  walk away before I totally lose my mind.

So for the first time ever I didn’t watch the State of the Union address.  What’s the point?

Obama’s been pissing into the wind for just about eight Continue reading

Day 271. Bang Bang

I really was going to leave this one alone. I have a lot of American friends and a lot of American readers and followers; and I don’t want to offend any of you. I know it’s a hot potato. But hotpotatothis story is still in the news. The NRA are in the midst of their annual convention, still refusing to budge on their stand against gun control.

It’s just all too much for me. I can’t keep quiet any more. Not without blowing a gasket. Not without having an aneurism. Not without my brains exploding out of the top of my head (and not because someone shot me).

So I’ve just gotta ask:

How can it ever be acceptable for anyone to buy a pint-sized REAL gun that shoots REAL bullets, for a child? How can it ever be acceptable for anyone to make a pint-sized REAL gun, that shoots REAL bullets for a child? How can it ever be acceptable for anyone to market and sell a pint-sized REAL gun, that shoots REAL bullets, for a child?

How can it ever be acceptable for a five year old to shoot, and KILL, his two year old sister, with a pint-sized REAL gun,

Continue reading

Day 181. Extraordinary Reunion

In 1965 a white, Jewish, twenty-one year old living in Toronto was sitting, in his family home, watching the news on television.  What he saw so moved him, so civilrightsdisgusted him, he was compelled to go to Greenwood, Mississippi.  To help.  To do something.  To get involved.  To join the fight for equal rights. To be part of the Civil Rights Movement.

To help black residents register to vote.

The twenty-one year old Canadian was Paul Saltzman; and, while on his way into a Greenwood courthouse, he was stopped, and chased, by three white youths.  Even though he ran for his life, they caught up with him.  One slugged him, knocking him to the ground.  In hindsight he was very lucky.  They might just as easily have shot Continue reading