It's Time To Stand Up For The C.I.A.

by Hobbert Ryde

      If you've followed Sycamore Three for a while, as I have, you'll notice that Goofy is -- as he puts it here -- "very hard on the CIA." 


       I tell you, I waded through that post -- and others of his -- and my eyes just glazed over.  It was about 50 percent goofy history, 50 percent goofy politics, 50 percent really goofy philosophy-and-religion, and about 100 percent TOO LONG.

       He acts like he has carefully researched everything and blah blah blah forever.  Read it if you must, but you'll be neck-deep in garbage, so let me do you a big favor and save you a lot of time and unnecessary mental strain.

       Everything you need to know about the CIA is right here, courtesy of me. I've done a little research too, by the way, so let me just mention a few things.


       I happen to have read every Jack Ryan novel that Tom Clancy ever produced, and I have a pretty good memory:  Jack Ryan was CIA, buddy, and that's really all you need to know.  And I'm talking about the real Jack Ryan here.  The first one, the President of the United States of America, if you recall from Executive Orders, which I do, and I don't mean his little kid Jack Junior who shows up in the Teeth of the Tiger.  (Now don't get me wrong.  Cathy Ryan was all right.  I'm just saying:  they can't make 'em like the Old Man.)


       I'll never forget Air Force One, how Harrison Ford played Jack Ryan kicking the -- I'm just going to say it, and I hope Ima Gine doesn't find out -- Jack Ryan kicking the Living Hell out of those lousy terrorists all the way from the Black Sea to Bermuda, saying "Get off my plane!"  My gosh, just thinking about it is like reliving history!  I can remember every bit of it like it was yesterday.  Man, oh man.  Kids today, what do they know.  Hell, what can they know.  It's a shame.

       And you know, all that happened two years before 9-11.  I only have one regret.  I only wish that when it came to be George W. Bush's turn, he would've been on that United Flight 93 with Todd Beamer saying "Let's roll!"  I tell you things sure would have been different.  But I know I'm being unfair.  Things can't always turn out the same.  And besides, George Junior wasn't CIA like his old man.


       Oh well.  I'll tell you something I frankly can't understand, and it's about Goofy.  Honestly I don't think he's evil, per se, if you know what I mean.  But he's just about as stupid as forever.  Let me give you four known facts, and you do the math.


       Fact one.  I know for a fact that Goofy likes Ronald Reagan.


       Fact two.  Tom Clancy dedicated one of Jack Ryan's books to Ronald Wilson Reagan.


       Fact three.  Jack Ryan stands for the USA.

       Fact four.  Jack Ryan is CIA.


       So how can Goofy not like the CIA?  What's not to like?  He's some kind of geek and can't connect four dots??  How long should that take?

       Well, I don't have all day.  It's time to pull a Hank Snow and be movin' on, if you know what I mean.  It's time to stop thinking and start figuring things out.   And that's just what I've done.


       Fact Five:


       The CIA needs our help, because even they have an Achilles heel, if you know what I mean, and here it is:   They can't stand up for themselves because they'd be violating National Security.   They're counting on us to realize this and stand up for them! 


       The clock is ticking.  It's high time to stand up for the CIA.





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For fun, this was

      

      

      

Freedom of Speech, USA!

by Hobbert Ryde

       Well, as I was saying, if you want some good three-letter words, I've got a few myself, like F.B.I. and C.I.A.


       But I'm going to take it right from the top, with that simple three letter word that ought to be the most important word in our lives, in my book anyway.  That's right:  U.S.A.  Just think about that for a minute.


       Here, I'll use it in a sentence.  "God Bless the U.S.A."  What more do you need than that?


       Now I'm going to be the first one to honestly admit this:  sometimes when I'm watching TV and they sing that song, I just feel like I'm part of the audience right there, and it almost brings tears to my eyes.  (You can ask Ima Gine if you don't believe me.)  I don't see how anybody can sit through that song and not want to stand up and die for their country, if need be.


       There is no doubt that the proudest day of my life so far was on 9-11 when there were Congressmen who stood up right there in the rubble at Ground Zero and sang that song.  I bet you can remember it if you were there that day.


       And what was really uncanny, if you know what I mean, I could tell they really meant it.  Including liberal Democrats who probably hadn't used the word God in four years, all standing up there four-square behind our young president, George W. Bush, facing a dangerous unknown future as one.  I tell you, that did something for me.  (Ima Gine said she thought it was probably God's judgment that scared the fire out of them.  Maybe so.)  But I know I never thought I'd live to see the day.


       But I have to tell you that just the other day I saw another day that I thought I'd never live to see.  At that link on Sycamore Three to Doctor Roberts, I saw myself hearing a former member of the Reagan administration -- that's right, the Reagan administration -- trash-talking the U.S.A.  I couldn't believe it!


       Here, I'll give you his exact words:  "The First Amendment is being all but restricted to rah-rah Americans who chant USA! USA! USA!"


       I'll be honest with you, I was pretty ticked off.  I mean, I'm going to stand up proudly and say USA! USA! USA! whenever I hear the call, because to me that's the battle cry of freedom, and if you don't stand with us, you stand against us.


       And in case you didn't know, this isn't just me talking. I'm quoting George W. Bush right here and right now, and in case you didn't know, he was quoting a much Higher Power, and I'd like to see anybody argue with Him, if you know what I mean.


       But as far as I'm concerned, Mr. Roberts loses it right out of the starting gate, as we say around here.  So I'm going to parse it for him.


       The First Amendment was written by Americans.  Right?


       The First Amendment was written for Americans. Right?


       So let's see, Doctor, if you can handle this simple logic:  The First Amendment was written by Americans for Americans.  Get it?  Is there anything else you need to know that I can help you with?


       You say "The First Amendment is being all but restricted to rah-rah Americans."  Well, for my money, what better group to restrict it to, if you know what I mean?  Do you think it was written for liberals and Democrats who are always trying to tear down our country?  Does that make some kind of sense to you?


       I hate to say this, but I'm really ashamed.  I'm ashamed of you for that kind of trash-talk.  I'm even more ashamed of Goofy over at Sycamore Three for linking to it.


       You guys and Ron Paul deserve each other.  As far as I'm concerned it's Dumb and Dumber, if you know what I mean.  You keep talking about freedom of speech.  Why don't you use it and stand up for the USA in her hour of need?


       You act like you don't know that the world has changed while you've been sitting there singing Kumbayah, or whatever you do.


       Well, in case you hadn't noticed, we live in a day when a single religious fanatic in a cave in Afghanistan armed with nothing but a cell phone can call up four planes and attack our freedoms in a single day.  That's the world I live in, bucko.


       I hate to have to say this, but really, get a life.





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For fun, this was

Freedom of Speech, D--n Right!

by Hobbert Ryde

       Mr. Goofy over at Sycamore Three couldn't get it right to save his life.  I was going to say, "to save his soul,"  but Ima Gine would probably get upset.  (She hasn't discovered my blog yet, but she might some day.  Well, there goes freedom of speech right there, if you ask me.)  And she's probably right.  There are some things that are sacred, like remembering to use the right words not to offend anybody.

       So Goofy had this goofy post -- what else could you expect? -- about the "Outlook For The New Year,"  a title which he blatantly both plagiarized and stole from Paul Craig Roberts who wrote an article at the same time about the exact same thing as he did.

       So Goofy has to pull the "credentials card," as I like to call it, and tell us that Doctor Roberts (probably nothing more than a Ph.D or a chiropractor) has "political credentials," like this means we should listen to him.

       Everybody seems to think that three letters makes a credential.  Like PHD.  Like CPA.  (Heck, even like Ima Gine when she goes on and on about MRS.  Sometimes, I think it's PMS.)

       So, you want credentials?  I'll tell you the kind of credentials that impress me.  Here's one with your precious three letters:  F.B.I.

       Ring any bells?  I thought so.  Everybody knows about the F.B.I.  Some people also remember that it was founded by the greatest living patriot and true American of our time, and his initials happened to be J. Edgar. Hoover.  Capishe, comrade?  Now there was a man's man, and if you don't believe me, you can ask Clyde A. Tolson.  

       Everybody, and I mean everybody, loved that man as if he was the Lord's right hand.  Every president from Wilson to Nixon counted on him to protect our freedoms, and every G-man (yes, I use that term proudly) was a Special Agent to him.  They loved him and he loved them in return.  They would walk on water for him.

       I'll tell you who didn't love him though.  Two kinds of people.  Communists and panty-waists.  He had their number; he really did!  And he'd go after them and lock them up.  Heck, he even locked up that draft-dodging socialist Eugene V. Debs, and threw the key away.  He didn't pussy-foot around.  Heck, I'll bet you Eugene V. Debs would still be behind bars today if he hadn't been pardoned by that pantywaist president Warren G. Harding.  (Who died a couple of years later, incidentally, so a lot of good that did him.)

       And meanwhile J. Edgar Hoover kept going strong for the next fifty years, keeping America safe, strong, and free.  You didn't mess with him, no sir.  And the F.B.I. is still strong today.  It's probably never been stronger.  You want a door kicked down, they can do it.  And they don't need a warrant from some liberal judge, either.  I tell you, I think it's a shame the way the liberals think they can run this country,  I really do.  But then, they've never sacrificed to defend our freedoms the way the F.B.I. has, every blessed day.  This might seem extreme of me, but I don't even think they even care.

       Oh, I know if Robert Heid could get a word in edgewise, he'd bring up the anti-draft protestors and peace-niks like Helen Keller and the Mennonites, like he was making some kind of a point about World War I being a bad idea.  But what he won't tell you is that he's making my point for me.   Hey, I'm good with that.  Because here comes the key, which you have never realized before. 

       What do they all have in common?  Can't guess?  Give up?  Can you spell German?  Can you spell who were we fighting?  The elephant in the room, if you know what I mean, is that there were millions of Germans living in this country.  As farmers, no less.  Can you spell immigrant?  Can you spell control our food supply?  Did you know that they controlled whole states?  Can you spell North Dakota?  Can you spell Bismark?  I didn't think so.

       So here's to my version of freedom of speech.  I have the God-given right as a God-given American to tell any immigrant I want to to get on the next boat and go back where you came from, and I don't really care if you've been here two hundred years.

       And you can call me extreme, but I'll tell you right now that our Sixteenth President, a man of real courage, who single-handedly saved the Union, yes, Abraham Lincoln, told the Africans that very thing, and if he has the right to do so to save our precious Union, so do I.

       I stand proudly with Abraham Lincoln, the greatest president the United States ever had, and the greatest president the United States ever will have.  He brought the Ship of State right through the dark storms of the Civil War, safe into New York Harbor right under the Statue of Liberty beside the Golden Door.

       How about that, Mr. Heid?  Bet he won't answer.  Bet he can't.

-

       Oh, don't worry.  I've got plenty more to say.  But he'll just have to wait.





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For fun, this was

Okay, I Admit It

by Hobbert Ryde    

       Okay, I admit it.  Those words of mine were over the edge, as you might say.


       Ima Gine told me so when she read them last night.  Actually, she gave me "holy heck," if you know what I mean, for using the "H-word."  I admitted it, I slipped.


       She said remember those cartoons in the history books about the Revolutionary War days, where the guys would say "D--n" instead of, you know, uh, well, "d--n," and if it was good enough for the Founding Fathers it ought to be good enough for me, since I was always going off about the good old days at the beginning of our great nation, and what could I say to that?  So let me go on the record that I apologize, here and now.


       So I said maybe we should move on, like the liberals, you know, "Move On," get it?  (Oh never mind.)  She said since when do we get our marching orders from the liberals.  What could I say?


       So then she got onto me for using the b-lls word.  She said if I was going to bring up the subject at all, I should have said "t---icles," with the hyphens, and how would that have looked.  She said that showed I shouldn't have brought up the subject at all.


       (Well right then I could tell where that was going, and sure enough, when we went to bed, she wouldn't bring up the subject at all.  If you know what I mean.)


       But I said I thought she missed the point, the point of the matter was about R-n P--l.  I said I thought it was a pretty good first try, seeing that I haven't done anything like this before. Of course, I said, toning down the language and all.


       She said she thought I didn't know what I was talking about, like using the word "cartel."  It showed I was just quoting other people.  Ha!  I said.  Because now I knew I had the best of her.   (I had looked it up after I wrote that thing and it meant pretty much what I thought it meant.)


       I said,  I knew you were missing the point!  The point is, they are OUR cartels!   They are one hundred percent AMERICAN, and R-n P--l is trying to make out that they are DIRTY and EVIL, and the WHOLE POINT is that they are what MADE AMERICA GREAT!  That's my point.


       She said I shouldn't raise my voice like that, it made her nervous.  And besides, she knew all that anyway, and didn't need me to tell her.  Well, what could I say?


       Okay, I admit it.  I raised my voice.  But I'm telling you, those R-n P--l people worry me.  If I didn't know that God was looking out for this great nation of ours, I'd be plenty scared.


       And don't tell Ima Gine (she doesn't know about this blog yet), but we still need men with real t---icles, like I said before.  And that includes some real heroes, in my book.  Like D-n R---feld, S--n H---ity, and B-ll O'R---ly.  And yes, most emphatically, D--k Ch---y.





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For fun, this was

Three Good Reasons Not To Like The "Good Doctor"

by Hobbert Ryde

1

He accuses our very own Wealth Cartel of Dirty Money.

2

He accuses our very own War Cartel of Dirty Murders.

3

He accuses our very own Show and Tell Cartel of Dirty Lies.

I'd say that's reasons enough.  But wait, there's more.

4

Your so-called "Good Doctor" is All Wrong.

And that's good news for all the rest of us.  There aren't any bad guys over here; they're all over there.  I heard it on Fox News.  Hell, I heard it at church, and you don't get any truer than that, buddy.

I can personally tell you right now how I know that your so-called "Good Doctor" doesn't know anything.  All he was ever trained to do was to look at sick people, figure out what was wrong with them, and try to get them well.  What a brainless dweeb.  I mean, what could be easier than that?  That right there tells you he was just in it for the easy money.

And he's wasted a big part of his life taking care of women, and babies.

And a guy like that should be . . . President??

We need a man's man right now.  Somebody with real balls, like George W. Bush, or General Petraeus, or Rick Santorum.

. . 

(Psst! What's a "cartel"?)

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For fun, this was

Post Zero: Hello, There

by Hobbert Ryde

That crazy Robert Heid at his precious blogspot, Sycamore Three, said he had to start his blog with a first post called, "Hello, World!" because it was traditional for some computer-programming reason, and he imagines himself to be some kind of former computer geek.

I decided to double-down, if you know what I mean.  I'd see his Sycamore Three and raise him to Psyche-More Six.  Get it?  Like poker, you know.

So I'm NOT going to start my blog off that way.  He'd call me some kind of copy-cat.

He makes me sick, the goofy hypocrite.  I finally had it, today, when he was about to post some laudatory drivel about Ron Paul, after promising everybody he was going to say less, which was the one good idea he has had so far.  

I could see what was coming.  (Don't ask me how, just call them special powers.)  So I just hijacked his site -- he's always whining about internet insecurity, as he likes to call it -- and took over under my own name.  I really let him and "Doctor" Paul have it.  You could read it at his website, but I'll save you the trouble and give you the whole deal in the next post.

And as Walter Cronkite would have said, "And that's the way it is, Tuesday, January the tenth, two thousand twelve."


-- Hobbert Ryde.





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For fun, this was