I grow weary of the bad men of the world killing children. Everyone’s politics be damned, I grow tired of the rapist, the killer, the men who commit themselves to sanely devised evil.

Because it is evil and there is evil in this world. It’s not one man’s perspective over another or another. Some men just want to do evil and they sleep every night free of guilt from it.

……..

So normally this is the part where I say “fight” give the bad men everything you have and leave them on the floor and not you.

But instead I would rather say “do good.”

Do good. Because the world is so absent of it at times. You want to be counter cultural. Do good.

— Matthew, Stepped Off A Train

I cannot imagine what it would be like to lose one of my children, especially when it comes out of the blue.  This family and those around them have been shattered, and for no good reason.  There is evil in the world, and we will always need men and women like Matthew, MattG, LawDog, and their brethren to stand watch for us.

Tonight, our family will be saying our prayers, and we will include Hailey Owen and her family in them.  I invite all of you to do the same, and while you’re at it, please pray for the protection of those who protect us.

Without even knowing it ourselves, we were ransomed by the small change in copper that was left from the golden coins our great-grandfathers had expended, at a time when morality was not considered relative and when the distinction between good and evil was very simply perceived by the heart. – Alexander Solzhentsyn, The Gulag Archipelago

One can only imagine what it was like in a Viking longhouse come the middle of February, when all there’s been to do for the last month is sharpen weapons and deplete the mead supply; when people’s fuses could be measured in microns, you’d need a pretty elaborate social code to keep it from being one lethal brawl after another. — Tam, ‘Tis The Season

 

Viking longhouse?  Heck, how about a 3 bedroom house with a basement in North Dakota?  I’m continually surprised that my siblings and I survived the long winters.

I really don’t care what people think of me. I’ve got my family. I’ve got my friends. Yes, I have been trained to be a little more aggressive if I need to be, but I don’t go around thumping people. — Chris Kyle, April 8, 1974 to February 2, 2013

Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly. – Martin Luther King Jr.

Irish Woman is watching one of those “We polish that gilded turd you’re living in, and you buy a palace” home improvement shows.  The wife in the family has made life a living hell for her husband, the remodeler, the real estate person, her children, the dog, and the guy who brings latte’s to the set every morning.  She especially has a problem going through her belongings to put them into storage/landfill so that the home can be renovated and shown.

Irish Woman – This woman needs to be on an episode of Hoarders.

Me – This woman needs to be on Prozac.

Seriously, I hate these programs.  They always give Irish Woman bright ideas about things that she would like to have done to the house (read “She wants me to do to the house”), and the people who participate in them tend to the whiningest examples of twits I’ve ever seen.  If watching them didn’t make Irish Woman happy, I’d block the channels.

We didn’t have the Saints of my birth, but in a Scandinavian town we had stories of the Nordic Gods as told through books and stories-Frigidaire- god of ice fishing, Lesfse, the goddess of unseasoned food, and Inclement, the god of school closures due to all the snow you betcha. The homes were warm, and full of the scent of coffee cake. On our kitchen walls were brightly painted plaques with sayings in Swedish that probably translated to “Keep making fun of the lutefisk and we’ll ship Socialism over there“. — Brigid, in one of the more poignant things I’ve read lately.

No offense Ladies, but if you’re going to learn to handle a weapon you need to learn to handle any weapon, because sometimes its not your weapon you’re going to shoot the intruder with; it is like squeezing a guy’s balls, one size may not fit all, but the right amount of pressure will bring any man to his knees, you just have to know how to twist properly. Now lock and load!! — Spike, from GBC, Friend of a friend,* commenting on Facebook about my post from yesterday.

 

*Corrected after someone politely corrected me.

Irish Woman and I are discussing family.

Irish Woman – You know the best part about having kids?  You get to enjoy all the things you didn’t have a chance to enjoy growing up.

Me – But when do I get to enjoy silence and being left alone? (I was the oldest of five.  Privacy and solitude were a rare luxury)

Irish Woman – You aren’t going to get to enjoy silence until you hear dirt dropping on top of your box.

Me, trying to be morbid – So, that’s what, Thursday?

Irish Woman – No, not Thursday, because I need to get the new couch home.  Friday might be better.