WARNING: THE CARAVAN IS COMING AND IT IS NOT WHAT YOU THINK.

Republicans, They Are Coming To Get You!

We are in the midst of a real government cover-up.  Donald Trump is trying to warn us, but the deep state intelligent agencies are preventing him from disclosing the real threat!

  

There is a caravan of more than two-thousand black and brown people moving through Central America, creating destruction of a pandemic proportion.

Have you wondered how a body that size can walk across a country without food or water or resources?   And what is more, the size of this ambling hoard grows each day instead of depleting?

The government doesn’t want you to know that a Zombie Apocalypse is heading your way.   Two thousand Zombies, men and women and children, genetically engineered by George Soros, are eating their way across Central America headed for the United States southern border.   People who are bitten but left alive in their wake are turning, and infecting their friends and neighbors, and then following the hoard north toward our borders.  By the time they arrive the numbers could be in the millions.

You might arm yourself and prepare a temporary bunker, but time is on their side; eventually you will have to emerge and face annihilation.  There is not enough ammunition to defend yourself from the millions of brain eaters that will be feeding on the unprotected population. 

 

There is a way, however, to protect yourself and you family.   This plague was designed and executed by Soros, Obama, Hillary Clinton and the National Democratic Party to insure a Democratic takeover of the government in 2020.  This November 6^th the Democratic selections on the voting ballots have been infused with nanobots that can protect you from the liberal Zombie army.   If you mark your ballot straight Democratic you will be inoculated with a DNA link that will protect you and other members of your immediate DNA matched family. 

 

These zombies are designed to eradicate themselves in two years, just before the Presidential election, leaving only Democrats to elect the next President. 

 

If you love your family and want to protect yourself, and if you want to be around to reelect Trump in 2020, then you MUST vote Democratic on November 6 before the Caravan of Brown Mexican Zombies arrive to eat your Republican brain.

This is a public service message from

the Ol’Buzzard.

  

MAKING BREAD

My wife and I have been making our on bred for thirty-five years.  We have gone through numerous bread machines, but years ago settled on the Breadman Ultimate.

 

Our fall back recipe, the one we make the most, is wheat germ bread.   It has a great consistency, easy to slice and is delicious toasted.

Wheat Germ Bread

• 1 cup Buttermilk (we use the powdered buttermilk available in the baking isle of the supermarket.)
• 1 large egg
• 3 cups of all-purpose flour (we don’t use bread flour.)
• ½ cup if wheat germ
• 1 ½ tablespoon of sugar
• 1 teaspoon of salt
• 3 tablespoons of butter (not margarine.)
• 1 teaspoon of yeast 

The buttermilk and egg mixture goes in first, then the dry ingredients: the sugar on one side of the bread pan and the salt on the other.   The yeast goes in last in the middle of the dry ingredients. 

An hour and a half before the bread is done (just before the final kneed) we take out the dough and remove the paddle, then place the dough back into the machine for the final rise and baking.  This way you do not end up with a hole in your bread from having to remove the paddle after baking.

Note:

You have to bake a few breads to discover the best consistency of dough.  The biggest mistake most new bakers make is adding too much water and ending up with a wet, sticky dough.   If you measure carefully you should get the right dough.  If I still see flour in the bottom of the pan during the first kneed I will add 1 tablespoon of water – only one!

Better the dough be a little dry than too wet.

Homemade bread is a simple pleasure

the Ol’Buzzard

WINTER IS COMING

Fall is over. 

Yesterday I woke to find a light coat of snow on the car.  Day temps are now in the forties and night temps dipping into the thirties. 
   
This is my time of year.

My fire wood is in and my fuel tanks topped off. 

I am a winter person.
the Ol'Buzzard

IT IS NOT ABOUT US

I am living in a kaleidoscope of color – it’s breath taking.  The color peaked two days ago then yesterday it rained and today the wind is stripping the trees.  Outside there is a carpet of copper dotted with gold and red; the trees are in their final yellow and gold dispersed with orange and vermilion, and it is raining gold and yellow and red as the trees give up their leaves.

While in the southeast death rode swinging his scythe of destruction and leaving in his wake ruin and sorrow. 

Is there a lesson to be learned from this?   Only if we think everything is about us. 

We are only observers on this ship earth that charts its own course; and when we have past, the ship will move on without us in a new evolutionary winding – or not.   Perhaps it will be content to be a ghost ship looking at the past epoch as a failure.

the Ol’Buzzard

THE GOVERNMENT’S PLAN TO IMPRISON “PROMISCUOUS WOMEN”

The New York Review of Books just published a review, by Heather Ann Thompson, The Trials of Nina McCall, by Scott Wasserman Stern; about a young Michigan girl institutionalized and brutalized on the charge of possibly having contracted a venereal disease. 

Politicians, with the support of religious leaders, have always been inclined to impose themselves in the sex life of citizens – mainly women.   The Comstock Law of the 1870’s outlawed the circulation of information and use of contraceptives, including condoms, in an effort to discourage sex outside of marriage. 

At the turn of the century, before the advent of antibiotics, syphilis and gonorrhea were at epidemic levels.  During the First World War what was known as sexually transmitted infections (STI) became a military concern.  Soldiers on leave before deploying to the battlefront were being infected resulting in over 10,000 being discharged from the war effort.  

In 1910 a compilation of laws known as The American Plan was instituted.    What was originally meant to combat prostitution around military bases quickly spun out to a nationwide purge.   The federal government divided the nation into ten sections and supervisors and field representatives were sent out to investigate prostitution and female promiscuity.   This movement was championed by churches and well-to-do women who were concerned about their husband’s sexuality. 

Many of these field representatives (often women) and the doctors designated to the program were zealots.   Should they decide a woman was likely to have an STI they had the authority to detain her, subject her to a medical examination and quarantine her indefinitely; forcing her, against her will, to painful and dangerous medical treatment involving regular injections of mercury. 

These women were deemed a menace to society and the ‘detention hospitals’ where they were held in captivity were cruel and inhumane prisons.  Women who resisted treatment were often physically tortured, including an early form or waterboarding

The American Plan was abused by doctors, field reps and local law enforcement.     Young women could be detained for simply being at a dance unescorted, or being in the company of a group of men.   The doctor could declare a woman likely to contract STI in the future and place her into the program.

Of course, woman of wealth or position were not in danger – if they contracted a sexual disease they could be treated by their private physician and the condition appropriately covered up.   This was a program aimed at poor women and disproportionately women of color. 

The American Plan is still alive today and was recently resurrected as the justification for enforced quarantine of a medical woman returning from treating Ebola victims in Africa.

I do not understand why men who love sex have vilified women’s sexuality, beginning with Eve.

the Ol’Buzzard

CAN ANYONE EXPLAIN TO ME WHAT GOES ON AT THE GAS PUMPS?

In a normal business you buy a product wholesale, figure the cost of expenses, set your profit margin and advertise your price.  

Gas pump prices can sometimes change hourly.   The buyer buys the gas, sets his profit margin and advertises his price; then that evening he raises it by two cents and the next day raises it by a ten-cents, and that evening drops it by six-cents…

What the fuck?

Gas is not like most products where you can pick a replacement or just do without.  We need gas to get to work, to get to the grocery store, to get to the hospital or doctors appointment, to have our fuel delivered, to receive protection from police and fire departments…

Fluctuating gas prices are not necessary.   The government could regulate supply and price if they wished too. 

It seems that the only bipartisan thing our Senate and Congress are capable of agreeing on, is supporting unregulated oil and gas companies.

I am not complaining about the cost of gas in the U.S as we are cheaper then many progressive countries.  But why not have a regulated price: set a reasonable price and leave it the fuck alone?

the Ol’Buzzard

SAUDI ARABIA HAS NEVER BEEN OUR FRIEND

Everyone is flabbergasted because the Saudis just murdered an American citizen.   How many times do you have to take a blow to the head before you realize that the person hitting you is not your friend?

Saudi business men financially supported Osama bin Laden – himself a Saudi.   Fifteen of the nineteen hijackers that attacked us on 9-11 were Saudis.    Saudi Arabia is a fundamentalist religious nation that allows public beheadings and stoning of unfaithful wives. 

The idea that Saudis uphold our ideals in the Middle East and therefore are our allies is a Faustian bargain.    

I know the Bushes love them because of the oil connection; but it makes you wonder what other influences they have cultivated that have allowed the U.S. to look the other way?

the Ol’Buzzard

A THROWAWAY SOCIETY

I recently posted a blog reminiscing about changes I have seen in my almost eight decades.  Yesterday I posted about a pole saw from Harbor freight, and Rob ( Observations on the road ) commented about the poor quality of Craftsman tools.    This brought to mind how the quality of almost everything we buy has deteriorated over the last fifty years.

When I was a child my grandmother (who raised me) had a toaster that was steel: it was heavy to lift.  After years one of the heating elements burned out and she had me take it to an appliance repairman in the town and he replaced the heating element.  We had that toaster for my entire young life.   Today I have a Cuisinart toaster that is so light I am sure I could cave in the sides if I smashed it with my fist.  I can’t count the number of toasters I have owned over the past sixty years. 

Remember when the bumpers on cars were so substantial you could actually push another car without damaging either vehicle, and the dashes were steel?

Craftsman tools use to be the standard in durability; but now they have gone the way of everything else – produced as cheaply as possible.

Back sixty and more years ago people purchased things for a lifetime; now, nothing is expected to last more than a few years.

This generation has a different mindset; they don’t want to keep old things because ‘Wayfair has just what you need.’

the Ol'Buzzard

HARBOR FREIGHT POLE SAW

At my age I don’t buy Craftsman tools any more – they come with a lifetime guarantee and being an old man that is no longer a selling point for me.   There are people who scoff at Harbor Freight tools.  Granted they are made in China and can’t compare with the professional grade; but I have had pretty good service from what I have purchased.

I needed to trim some tree limbs and went down to the tool rental store – they wanted $50 for the day rental for a gasoline pole saw.   Harbor freight had and electric pole saw for $70.00 and 20% off.   I ordered it a few weeks ago; but just got around to unpacking it today.

The saw has a nine-inch Oregon blade and Oregon chain, and expands to nine feet.  I ran about 100 feet of cord out to the offending trees and trimmed the lower branches.  

I am really impressed with this saw.   It’s a man’s tool, definitely heavy to wield, but it cut through branches up to four inches like butter.   I did not find the cord a problem at all, and I think the electric is superior to a gasoline as the chain does not run continually, but only when you press the trigger.   The saw is also available in battery for a little more money; but I don’t like battery operated tools as the batteries are always depleted when I want to use them.

Just thought I would share.

the Ol’Buzzard

SNOWFLAKES - DON’T BE MAD AT THE REPUBLICANS FOR KAVANAUGH

Justice Cavanaugh has been sworn in and there is righteous indignation – especially among women.   Our ire is focused on Republican Senators and Republican pundits; but that is like being outraged because a wasp will sting.  

It is not the Republican’s fault that a partisan, misogynistic, anti-abortion, anti-gay, racist is now a member of the Supreme Court – this is who Republicans are – this is what we expect from them.  

It’s the hypocrisy that most buggers me.

If you did not vote for Hillary because of her e-mails;

If you wrote in Bernie Sanders for President;

If you voted for the Green Party;

If you voted for the Libertarian Party;

Then shut the fuck up – you own this.  

THE BUZZARDS HAVE COME HOME TO ROOST

the Ol’Buzzard

LIVING THROUGH THE DECADES

When my wife and I attended college some forty years ago we enrolled in a class of Maine history, and as part of that class we had to locate and interview a person over seventy that had lived in Maine all his or her life.  We recorded these interviews and they became a part of the oral history collection at the university. 

Now I am approaching my eighth decade and I understand how the recollections older people have of the past give them a different perspective of the present.

Young people of today are incapable of relating to me because they cannot relate to my past experiences.   To them the present is all there is.    How could they relate to a time without cell phones, without computers and to a time without television?  

Today kids grow up with computer games.  I grew up with toy soldiers, cap guns and BB guns.   

We played football and baseball in a large field behind the Baptist church.   In the summer time I would leave the house soon after I got up and ate breakfast – usually cereal or toast – take off on my bicycle and hook up with friends;

then come home about noon, make a mayonnaise sandwich with a glass of milk and be gone again tell supper time.    Parents didn’t worry where their kids were – there really wasn’t much to worry about.  


Today, eight-year-olds can browse porn on their computer, but my buddies and I were pretty naïve; none of them had sisters so girls were a complete miserly to us.  We thought we knew how babies got in but weren’t sure how babies came out.   We had some wild misconceptions, but one thing we agreed on was young women with tits were great.   We would act totally stupid around girls. 



The telephones I grew up with went through a telephone exchange.  You picked up the phone and the operator would say ‘Number Please’ and then connect you with the person you were calling.  Our town was small and my aunt’s number was 123, my uncle’s number was 26 and oddly enough, I don’t remember our number.   You could pick up the phone and ask the operator for the time or you could tell her you would be out of town for a day and she would relay that to anyone calling your number.   We had a party-line and there were three people on our party – you might pick up the phone and find someone else talking, so you would hang up and check again later to see if the line was clear. The number of rings told you whether the incoming call was for you or one of the other party-line members.  My grandfather still had a candlestick phone in his room, 

but In Jackson, a bigger city, they had dial phones – I thought that was neat.   If you were traveling and needed to make a phone call you looked for a pay phone; you could find them in some service stations and usually there was a telephone booth somewhere in town.

Most of your communication was done by mail.   Post cards were a penny and stamps were three cents.  It usually took a week for a letter to go from the sender to the receiver and another week before you could expect a return.

The radio was the center of home entertainment and Philco was the big name in radio.   We had a large Philco radio and I looked forward to children’s programs from four to five each weekday: programs like The Lone Ranger, Sargent Preston of the Yukon and Sky King.   Wednesday night from seven to nine was mystery time with Boston Blackie, The Thin Man, The Shadow and the Green Hornet.   Then then there was Inner Sanctum, radio’s premier horror show.   On Saturday there was Straight Arrow, Big John and Sparky, Wild Bill Hickock and Space Patrol. 

Sometime during my late teen years portable, battery operated transistor radios evolved, but I never had one.  As a teen ager, at night, I would listen to country music on AM radio from Del Reo, Texas (the strongest station on the dial) and later at night the Black blues and rock stations out of Memphis.

There were no FM stations receivable in Rolling Fork, Mississippi during the forties and fifties. 

The Mississippi Delta was hot in the summer and we slept with our windows open.   We had a window fan and a small radiating fan.

I remember pulling the sheet over my head to get away from mosquitos then getting so hot I would kick off the sheet – the night would go on like that…  In the morning I would wake up with mosquito bites.  

I remember cars from the 1940’s that had starter buttons on the floor – you turned the key on and pressed the starter with your foot to start the car.   As technology advanced the starter button was moved to the dash.  I remember the Plymouth with the push button gear selection on the dash or on the steering wheel.  

There were no air conditioners in the early cars, but you could mount a cooling tube in the window that had a water bath and the forward motion of the car would push air across the water and into the car creating a cool damp interior.

  I didn’t get a car until I was seventeen.  I bought it with my aunt.  It was a 1952 Pontiac Chieftain.  

I had to rebuild the carburetor and replace the starter motor – If you had a car you had to learn to work on it.

I remember cars that no longer exist.  Cars with carburetors and distributors.  Names like Packard, Nash, Kiser, Henry J, DeSota, Hudson, Rambler, Studebaker…

I lived in a time before jet aircraft.   All passenger planes had propellers and flew under ten thousand feet at speeds less than two-hundred mph.   There was no one I knew that had ever flown in an aircraft.

It was in 1947 that Chuck Yeager finally broke the sound barrier – faster than 600 mph – in a rocket powered aircraft known as the Bell X-1.   In my early teens I built plastic models of military aircraft like the Corsair and the Hellcat. 

A different time – a different life: the south was segregated,

and wives were expected to be subservient to their husbands.   Just as there were definite racial lines there were definite gender lines.   

The changes I have seen in almost eighty years are remarkable.   The social, technological and cultural differences during my earlier life are totally unfathomable to young people of today – and yet I lived through them. 

This is by no means a comprehensive look at the life and the world that I experienced and lived through.  It only scratches on the surface.  


I sometimes feel as if I am an alien from another planet that has come to earth and trying to acclimate to a social order that I don’t fully understand. 

the Ol'Buzzard