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Cindy is a Mother to all of us now, and Im going home to Camp Casey!

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frictionlessO (1000+ posts) Sat Aug-13-05 12:51 PM
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Cindy is a Mother to all of us now, and Im going home to Camp Casey!
Edited on Sat Aug-13-05 12:52 PM by frictionlessO

Yes I know that the chickenhawk weasel kept calling her mom, with no incentive for doing so other than not knowing who the heck she is.

I do know her though, I know her through her words and actions over the last year. I know her pain because I open my heart and let the empathy flow when ever I read her thoughts or see her likeness. I do the same for her and all the others.... and Id just like to say to her and the others in Crawford getting ready to rally in one of the alternative Texas Churches (High School football in TX is a religion)....

I'd just like to tell you Mom... Im coming home.

I'm coming home to lift you up and lend focus to yours and the others family words. Im coming to support you with hugs and work and time. I'm coming to give you my heart, my compassion and my strength.

What more is there to do when the mother of the single greatest cause in 40+ years tells you and your brothers and sisters that she needs you to come home now and support her.

I'm coming home to you Mom, your maternal spirit is a beacon to our large and great family.

I'll see you next Friday, stay safe and strong.

All my love and all my peace,
Jason

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DUmmies and their ilk live in a world where they want to play out the fantasies in their heads rather than relate to the realities around them. They don't believe in traditional religion because they take the focus of THEM--they prefer New Age designer religions they can tailor to (coincidentally!) the behavior they already approave of. (I observe this as an agnostic, btw.)

They trust musicians and emotionally-expressive people to tell them "the truth" more than they do hard, proveable facts. They are emotionally stunted, unable to let go of the happy playgroup they used to have, where mommy gave them whatever they wanted (without payment in return of course), where everyone sang and played, and if you didn't like something you didn't think about it, didn't consider others' needs or the realities of money and resources, you just whined and then cried and eventually, to shut you up, you got what you wanted. And you napped and watched TV whenever you felt like it, and it was so easy to figure out who the Bad Guy was--he was the one who wasn't into "fun" and who told you things you didn't want to hear.

This brief journey to DUmmieland is brought to you by Haliburton.