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by Aly Nielsen, NewsBusters

Judicial Watch recently filed a lawsuit against the Department of Justice after uncovering evidence it forced companies to give money to left-wing nonprofits during the Obama administration — nonprofits which also received millions from billionaire George Soros and other liberal foundations.

The Freedom of Information Act lawsuit filed on June 12, demands “records relating to an Obama administration policy of settling agency lawsuits against corporate defendants by requiring that the corporations make ‘donations’ to left-wing interest groups La Raza, the [National] Urban League and the National Community Reinvestment Coalition [NCRC],” according to the press release.

“When big banks are sued by the government for discrimination or mortgage abuse, they can settle the cases by donating to third-party non-victims,” Fox News reported in March 2017.

So far, at least $3 billion in payments to “non-victim entities” like La Raza have been uncovered, Judicial Watch said.

During Obama’s presidency however, the government didn’t just force companies to donate to the left-wing nonprofits. Federal agencies also gave more than $89.5 million to the three non-profits: $69.9 million to the National Urban League, $13 million to National Community Reinvestment Coalition and $6.5 million to La Raza, according to

Major media have yet to cover both this Judicial Watch lawsuit and another lawsuit against USAID for funding Soros groups in eastern Europe.

The three left-wing groups cited in the Judicial Watch lawsuit are already backed with millions of dollars from liberal organizations like the Ford Foundation, the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation and Soros.

The Ford Foundation gave more than $19.6 million to La Raza, $3.7 million to the National Urban League and nearly $1.2 million to the NCRC between 2003 and 2015.

The Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation meanwhile gave almost $24 million to La Raza and $15.5 to the National Urban League during the same time frame.

Soros’ Open Society Foundation (OSF) gave $4.76 million to the La Raza and $700,000 to NCFC.

The Ford Foundation, Gates Foundation and OSF have given to many other left-wing causes as well. They are among Planned Parenthood’s largest donors after giving tens of millions of dollars. OSF and the Ford Foundation also funded journalism groups behind the ongoing attacks on ExxonMobil over climate change.

Leaked emails from OSF revealed that during Obama’s presidency, Soros advised then-Secretary of State Hillary Clinton on foreign policy in Albania. He also gave at least $10.5 million to Clinton’s 2016 presidential campaign.


January 29, 2017

Colorado Freshman Rep., Dave Williams, introducing bill to outlaw sanctuary cities

By Marjorie Haun

On Monday, January 30, freshman Colorado Representative Dave Williams (R) of House District 15, will be introducing legislation to outlaw so-called sanctuary cities in the state. Williams’ bill goes farther than simply making official ‘sanctuary’ status illegal, to establish a right of action for crime victims against public officials who enact policies which put Colorado citizens at risk through giving unconstitutional protections to illegal and/or criminal aliens.

In addition to the sponsors listed on the bill, others have been added and will show up on the updated version of the bill. Those co-sponsors include Senator John Cooke, Senator Kevin Lundberg, Senate President pro tempore Jerry Sonnenberg, and Senate Majority Leader Chris Holbert. Others may yet be added.

This bold move by Representative Williams comes on the heels of President Trump’s swift and unequivocal actions against sanctuary cities across the country. The executive order issued by President Trump on Monday states, “These jurisdictions have caused immeasurable harm to the American people and to the very fabric of our Republic,” and there is ample evidence supporting his claim.

Colorado immigration hawk, Tom Tancredo, recently wrote about the purely fiscal costs incurred by ‘sanctuary’ cities. In his Breitbart article from January 28, Tancredo stated:

In my home state of Colorado, the 2016 SCAAP report by the state Department of Corrections revealed that state prison system was holding 2,039 criminal aliens at a cost of $37,958 per inmate. That is a total cost of $77,396,362. The federal reimbursement grant was $2,077, 720. That is a grant of 2.7 cents for every dollar of actual cost. Those 2,039 criminal alien inmates were 14% of all state prison inmates: One in every seven felons in the state prison system is a criminal alien.

What are the comparable numbers for your state? You can discover the SCAAP grant amounts for each state prison system and the local county jails applying for federal reimbursement at this website.

The federal SCAAP grant program was established by Congress as an acknowledgment of federal responsibility for a failed border security and failed federal enforcement of immigration laws. But the appropriated amount for reimbursing local communities their incarceration costs through SCAAP grants has NEVER been adequate for full cost reimbursement. In 2016, the federal reimbursement program was given a paltry $189 million.

  • At 2.7 cents on the dollar, that amount would not reimburse the full costs of even one of the five states having over 10,000 criminal aliens in the state’s jails and prisons and receiving over $6 million in SCAAP grants– California, New York, Texas, Florida, and Arizona.
  • That $189 million would be $7 BILLION annually if the federal government wanted to reimburse states and local communities the full cost of incarcerating over 200,000 criminal aliens

Williams’ ban on sanctuary cities will be formally introduced in the Colorado House of Representatives on Monday, when it will be assigned a bill number and then assigned to a House committee. The summary of the bill–which is quite lengthy–reads:

Bill Summary

(Note: This summary applies to this bill as introduced and does not reflect any amendments that may be subsequently adopted. If this bill passes third reading in the house of introduction, a bill summary that applies to the reengrossed version of this bill will be available at

The bill is known as the “Colorado Politician Accountability Act”.

The bill includes a legislative declaration that states that addressing sanctuary jurisdictions is a matter of statewide concern and that makes findings about how sanctuary policies are contrary to federal law and state interests.

The bill creates a civil remedy against the state or a political subdivision of the state (jurisdiction) and against its elected officials for creating sanctuary policies. The bill also creates a crime of rendering assistance to an illegal alien that can be brought against an elected official for creating a sanctuary jurisdiction.

An elected official is responsible for the creation of a sanctuary jurisdiction if the elected official votes in favor of imposing or creating a law, ordinance, or policy that allows the jurisdiction to operate as a sanctuary jurisdiction, fails to take steps to try to change a law, ordinance, or policy that allows the jurisdiction to operate as a sanctuary jurisdiction, or is a county sheriff who imposes or enforces a policy that allows the jurisdiction to operate as a sanctuary jurisdiction in a county in which the elected officials have not voted to impose or create a sanctuary jurisdiction.

The bill allows any person who claims that he or she is a victim of any crime committed by an illegal alien who established residency in a sanctuary jurisdiction to file a civil action for compensatory damages against a jurisdiction and against the elected officials of the jurisdiction who were responsible for creating the policy to operate as a sanctuary jurisdiction. Notwithstanding the protections of the “Colorado Governmental Immunity Act”, the jurisdiction and its officials who are responsible for creating a sanctuary jurisdiction are civilly liable for damages if the person who engaged in the criminal activity:

! Is determined to be an illegal alien;

! Had established residency in the sanctuary jurisdiction; and

! Is convicted of the crime that is a proximate cause of the injury to a person or property.

The maximum amount of compensatory damages for injury to persons is $700,000 per person or $1,980,000 for injury to 2 or more persons; except that no person may recover in excess of $700,000. The maximum amount of compensatory damages for injury to property is set at $350,000 per person or $990,000 for injury to multiple persons; except that no person may recover in excess of $350,000.

The bill defines a “sanctuary jurisdiction” as a jurisdiction that adopts a law, ordinance, or policy on or after the effective date of this bill that prohibits or in any way restricts an official or employee of the jurisdiction from:

! Cooperating and complying with federal immigration officials or enforcing federal immigration law;

! Sending to or receiving from or requesting from federal immigration officials information regarding the citizenship or immigration status, lawful or unlawful, of an individual;

! Maintaining or exchanging information about an individual’s immigration status, lawful or unlawful, with other federal agencies, state agencies, or municipalities;

! Inquiring about an individual’s name, date and place of birth, and immigration status while enforcing or conducting an official investigation into a violation of any law of this state;

! Continuing to detain an individual, regardless of the individual’s ability to be released on bail, who has been identified as an illegal alien while in custody for violating any state law; or

! Verifying the lawful presence and eligibility of a person applying for a state or local public benefit as required by state and federal law.

The bill sets forth the requirements for determining when an illegal alien has established residency in a sanctuary jurisdiction. An “illegal alien” is defined as a person who is not lawfully present within the United States, as determined by federal immigration law.

The governing body of any jurisdiction is prohibited from adopting a law, ordinance, rule, policy, or plan or taking any action that limits or prohibits an elected official, employee, or law enforcement officer from communicating or cooperating with an appropriate public official, employee, or law enforcement officer of the federal government concerning the immigration status of an individual residing in the state. The governing body of a jurisdiction is required to provide written notice to each elected official, employee, and law enforcement officer of the jurisdiction of his or her duty to communicate and cooperate with the federal government concerning enforcement of any federal or state immigration law. The governing body of any jurisdiction in this state is required to annually submit a written report to the department of public safety (department) that the jurisdiction is in compliance with the cooperation and communication requirements. If the department does not receive those written reports, the department is required to provide the name of that jurisdiction to the state controller.

A law enforcement officer of a jurisdiction who has reasonable cause to believe that an individual under arrest is not lawfully present in the United States shall immediately report the individual to the appropriate U.S. immigration and customs enforcement office (ICE) within the department of homeland security. The governing body of any jurisdiction is required to report annually to the department on the number of individuals who were reported to ICE by law enforcement officers from that jurisdiction. The department is directed to compile and submit annual reports on compliance to the general assembly and to the state controller. The state controller is required to withhold the payment of any state funds to any jurisdiction that is found by the department to have failed to comply with these reporting requirements. The state controller shall withhold funds until the department notifies the state controller that the jurisdiction is in compliance.

The bill creates the crime of rendering assistance to an illegal alien through a sanctuary jurisdiction, which is a class 4 felony. A person who is an elected official of a jurisdiction commits rendering assistance to an illegal alien through a sanctuary jurisdiction if, with intent to hinder, delay, or prevent the discovery, detection, apprehension, prosecution, conviction, or punishment of illegal aliens within the jurisdiction:

! He or she was responsible for creating a sanctuary jurisdiction in the jurisdiction to which the official is elected; and

! When, as a result of the protection afforded by a sanctuary jurisdiction, a third person engages in criminal activity and the third person:

! Is an illegal alien as legally defined by federal immigration law;

! Had established residency in the sanctuary jurisdiction that was created by the official; and

! Has been convicted of a crime that caused injury to a person or to property.

A person who has knowledge of a crime committed by an illegal alien as a result of the creation of a sanctuary jurisdiction may file an affidavit with the attorney general or with a district attorney outlining the crime and requesting that charges be brought or that a grand jury be impaneled. The attorney general or district attorney shall investigate and respond in writing with his or her decision to the person filing the affidavit within 49 days. If the attorney general or district attorney declines to bring charges or impanel a grand jury, the person may file a second affidavit directly with the applicable court.

The bill includes a severability clause and a provision that states that the bill is not subject to judicial review.

The bill takes effect upon passage and applies to acts or omissions occurring on or after said date.

This bill is a daring move on the part of the freshman Representative Williams, however, the chances of it making through Colorado’s Democrat-controlled State House are slim. Nonetheless, it reflects the sentiment so strongly, if unartfully, voiced by President Trump, that government at all levels must address public safety and national security threats where they often begin; at the America’s entry ways.

# # # # # # # # # # #

Cute Kittens Against Socialism is broadcasting this Public Service Announcement on “National Dog Day” to warn the millions of Americans currently being infiltrated by dogs, and influenced by their propaganda, that your mental health may be in grave danger.

The following study was formulated by the same researchers who brought you “global warming,” “Mermaid: The Body Found,” and “the ‘G’ spot.”


This research was funded by the “Tapeworm Foundation,” “The Toxoplasmosis Society,” and “Too Cute: Puppies with Diarrhea.” Not one cent of Koch-brothers money went into any phase of this investigation which explores the political leanings of dogs. And, finally, the sponsor of this groundbreaking study, “Cute Kittens Against Socialism,” promise that not one iota, not one itty bit, not one friggin’ flea speck of bias influenced its outcome.

Abstract: This research was conducted in response to the ongoing debate about who really is man’s best friend. Since behavior and political ideology are intimately connected, Cute Kittens Against Socialism commissioned this study with the goal of providing information to Americans about what influences are coming into the homes of unsuspecting dog owners. Evidence that dogs are often found on Democrat voter rolls brought forth the hypothesis that Americans with dogs are more liberal because their pets are Socialists.

Findings: Vast differences between Canis Domesticus and Felis Domesticus exist in the following behavioral domains:

Dependency vs. Self-reliance

  • Dogs are completely dependent on humans and other dogs to take care of their needs, from doggie biscuits to emotional security, therefore their relationship to humans is comparable to living as welfare recipients. Dogs are incapable of doing anything without  being commanded. Left to their own devices, dogs will starve and die of depression while waiting for their masters to provide for them instead of getting off their canine butts and obtaining of their own food and addressing their own emotional emptiness. Dogs are sometime co-dependent and will stay with inadequate and/or abusive humans because they have no sense of individuality. Clearly, dogs are Socialists.
  • Cats, even those with employees who feed them on a regular basis, continuously hone their hunting skills and are fully capable of finding food for themselves when the kibbles run out. Cats are not emotionally needy, and seek closeness only when they want something warm to rub against or need a scratch under the chin. Cats are rugged individualists who refuse to be commanded, ruled, or any way controlled by forces other than their own whim. Cats easily leave inadequate and/or abusive masters, seeking for those circumstances which most benefit their individual needs. Cats are also generous and will share their hunting quarries with their employees in the form of the occasional mouse or blue jay left just outside the back door. Cats are obviously conservative.

Utopian Delusions vs. Reality


  • Dogs chase cars. Dogs chase their tails. Dogs display many behaviors generated by the delusional premise that “wanting something to be a certain way will make it so,” which is a universal theme in all Socialist theories. Dogs, despite their dependency and inadequacy as individuals, have a grandiose sense of self and an unrealistic notion that they can alter reality in order to overcome their personal deficiency. Dogs howl at the moon to make it go away. Does it go away? No. Dogs pretend large moving vehicles are prey. Who is the real predator in dog vs. automobile, hu? Dogs, like Socialists, will always try to undo reality to fit their delusional worldview, why? Because it makes them feel special, that’s why. Dogs are therefore Socialists.
  • Cats are firmly pinned to the Barcalounger of reality.  Cats observe and analyze the world, formulating strategies to meet their goals. Cats don’t chase cars. Cats howl only to warn away interlopers. Cats don’t play pretend like dogs and Socialists. Cats understand and live by the natural order of things. Cats are therefore conservative.

Pack vs. Feral Colony

  • Dogs have a strong psychological need to be part of a group. They are incapable of independent action or thought. Dogs, without the constraints of a human family, will join a pack. Dogs are like lemmings, only worse because they eat their own poop. Whatever the leader of the pack does, the rest will do. Dog packs are filthy, constantly on the move, ruled by appetite, dangerous, killing randomly, as much for thrill as for food. Packs of dogs are like mindless masses of moving mange, similar to low-information Liberals and Democrat stoners who vote in lock-step with the hound that yips the loudest and longest.  Pack dogs are Socialist-leaning Democrat voters.
  • Cats are by nature solitary hunters. They follow the Natural Law of the jungle, in their pursuit of life, liberty, and the perfect mouse. Cats may form feral colonies in the absence of human care, but feral colonies are orderly, regulated by matriarchal pussy cats who act in the best interests of the kittens. Feral colonies are self-sufficient and do not waste. The hunters within the colony carry out their tasks and share their kills with all in the colony. Cat colonies are stable, and provide beneficial supports to all generations within the colony. Feral cat colonies are well-ordered conservative organizations.

Eating Poop vs. Burying Your Poop

  • One of the most puzzling findings in this study was the high number of Democrats who allow dogs to give them open-mouthed French kisses. Surely they understand that dogs eat poop. Dogs eat their own poop. They eat the poop of other dogs. They even eat the poop of other species. The eat maggoty poop. They recycle poop by eating poop, pooping poop, eating poop, and pooping poop in an endless digestive cycle. Dogs roll in poop. They roll on and around the festering carcasses of dead things. They roll in trash, especially that which contains bloody offal and stuff that smells like zombie farts. Dogs never attempt to keep themselves clean. Dogs are the canine version of the Occupy Movement; Occupy the dog park, Occupy the Port-o-let, Occupy the Landfill, Occupy Roadkill. Dogs regard personal hygiene as a phony bourgeois imposition upon the natural state. Dogs smell like Socialists.
  • Cats are highly hygiene-conscious. Cats clean every square inch of their bodies by twisting into impossible positions and licking, licking, grinning, and licking. Cats have a natural antiseptic in their saliva that acts simultaneously as an anti-bacterial agent and pleasant cologne. Cats are offended and embarrassed by poop. Cats instinctively bury their poop. They feel great remorse if their poop ends up somewhere it doesn’t belong. Cats won’t eat food within several yards of poop. Cats avoid the poop of other animals. And cats avoid festering dead things because they like their meat fresh and sweet. Cats have a sense of pride in their personal appearance. Cats are clean-cut and attractive. Cats are athletic and fit. Cats smell like personal liberty. Cats are undoubtedly conservative.

Conclusions: Dogs are drooling, pea-brained Socialists which have undue influence over their masters, often causing them to adopt their dependent and slovenly ways. The commissioners of this study, Cute Kittens Against Socialism, strongly cautions its readers against falling for the whole “cute, fuzzy, cuddly puppy” scam. It is a contrivance by Leftists in media and culture who simply want four-legged, pathetic Socialists infiltrating every home in the nation. Don’t buy it. Cats are man’s best friend. Cats are freedom’s best friend.

by Marjorie Haun 


September 10, 2016

“Somewhere in the depths of solitude, beyond wilderness and freedom, lay the trap of madness.”
― Edward Abbey, The Monkey Wrench Gang

“The Monkey Wrench Gang” was written by Edward Abbey, the man many on the Left consider the Walt Whitman of the environmentalist movement in the West. The book details the misadventures of a crew of angry, misfit ‘environmentalists’ who seek to ‘protect’ the wilderness and rivers of southeastern Utah. The Monkey Wrench Gang resorts to criminal acts, such as vandalizing–monkey wrenching–various pieces of heavy equipment, to stop big, evil corporations from despoiling nature by building roads, dams and whatnot. Earth First, Earth Liberation Front, Green Party prez candidate Jill Stein, and others were likely inspired by Abbey’s book to use environmentalist activism as justification for destroying public and private property. But some have taken the ‘monkey wrench’ strategy to new levels in the cyber-connected world.zindagoat

Kieran Suckling, the vile director of the Center for Biological Diversity, recruiting an army of Internet trolls, effectively monkey-wrenched the characters and motives of ranchers protesting the unjust imprisonment of the Hammond family in Oregon. Suckling, and his malcontent cyber storm troopers used Twitter trolling, hateful attacks on Facebook and media smears in a somewhat successful campaign to brand the peaceful ranchers as ‘domestic terrorists.’ His lesser compatriot–and admirer, Chris Zinda, also participated, using his own version of social media monkey-wrenching. This Suckling wannabe was recently exposed by Rangefire Magazine, for his own, very personal, very angry campaign against efforts in the West to disentangle lands and resources from the control of aggressive and overreaching federal agencies.

Zinda’s villains include, but are not limited to; ranchers, cows, cowboys, Mormons, Utahans, politicians, bloggers, loggers, truckers, county commissioners, Oath Keepers, people with personal firearms for self-defense and hunting, people who ride ATV’s (whom he calls ‘wreckreationists’), people who read and cite the Constitution, people who believe in God and the Constitution (whom he labels ‘theoconstitutionalists), Cleon Skousen, the Bundys, Republicans, Conservatives, conservative women, corporations and of course, the Koch Brothers. To Zinda, all of the aforementioned are ‘seditionists.’


Zinda is biased in favor of big federal government. His household income depends on it. Zinda’s wife, Heather Whitman, works for the increasingly controversial Bureau of Land Management (BLM) and most recently served as the director of the BLM Color Country district office in Iron County, Utah. If, for instance, the BLM were downsized and Ms. Whitman lost her job, Zinda might have to give up his position as a ‘homemaker.’ It’s also worth mentioning that Zinda is a regular contributor to the antisemitic Counterpunch webmag.

Originally from Appleton, Wisconsin, Zinda was himself a federal minion and worked for the National Parks Service in California and several other states. While in Alaska, he was arrested for 4th degree assault.

More bizarre still is his history of misdemeanor ‘impersonation.’ Although these days Zinda is not coy about press attention, his favored Internet troll commentator identity is “Zinwhit.”

Zinda moved to New Harmony, Utah, from Oregon last September, a few months after Whitman took her position at the Color Country BLM district office. Whether Ms. Whitman was simply transferred to Utah, or driven out because of her husband’s activism is unclear. It is clear, however, that Zinda was on the rampage long before moving to New Harmony. Shortly after moving to Lakeview, Oregon in 2010, Zinda went to war with the town over a geothermal energy project. A few years later he vilified a biomass energy project the little town had hoped would boost the local economy.  “Thank god he’s gone,” is the reaction he expected from the people of that part of Oregon when he moved. Apparently he anticipated, perhaps even relished, the thought of becoming a martyr to his own agitatin’.

A post on Ripoff Report appears to be an attempt to warn the people of Utah about the ‘radical’ activities of he and his Bureu of Land Management employee wife.

Having successfully monkey-wrenched the economy and working folks of Lakeview, Oregon, Zinda probably felt like the big gorilla when he moved to Utah a year ago, following Ms. Whitman’s transfer early in the summer of 2015. But the monkey crap really hit the fan for Zinda when he single-handedly derailed a patriotic children’s concert to be held at the Western Freedom Festival as part of Iron County’s Western Heritage Days. This is an excerpt from my expose’ of his activities as found in WatchdogArena.

Following the abrupt decision by officials in Utah’s Iron County School District (ICSD) to cancel a performance of Hope of America by 5th graders that was to be featured at the Western Freedom Festival (WFF), Watchdog Arena has discovered that this decision resulted from the complaints of one man with a vested interest in defaming the upcoming event, because his wife is the BLM manager over that region of Utah.

On October 1, Watchdog Arena reported the 5th grade choir controversy which made national news. Citing an article from the Salt Lake Tribune, we were lead to believe that ICSD cancelled the performance in response to “negative feedback from parents.” Watchdog Arena also communicated with ICSD School Board member, Becki Bronson, who said she and other officials had concerns about “the political agenda” of the Western Freedom Festival, which we reported, saying:

The ‘negative feedback from parents, it turns out, came only from Chris Zinda, who used his social media platforms to amplify his hoot to a roar sufficient to intimidate ICSD into cancelling the kids’ concert. My article goes on:

At 1:15 a.m. on Sept. 23, Zinda sent the following email to ICSD President Michelle Jorgenson, other school officials, Southern Utah University’s Vice Provost for International Affairs Stephen Allen (the university where the festival will take place), and the following Utah newspapers and broadcasters: The Spectrum, St. George News,David NoyceMatt Canham and Kristen Moulton of the Salt Lake Tribune, KUTV News, Fox 13 Now News, the Deseret News and KSL News.

An ICSD official was able to confirm to Watchdog Arena that no other parents logged complaints about the WFF, and that the concerns of Stephen Allen arose from the email Zinda sent to him. A scanned document provided by ICSD also shows the only phone call to the district regarding the district’s involved with the WFF was from Zinda.

After a year of grumbling and throwing proverbial sticks and stones at the folks in and around southwestern Utah and southern Nevada, word comes from a highly reliable source that Zinda’s wife is being transferred back to Oregon. Little detail is available about Ms. Whitman’s latest destination as a BLM administrator. I’m pretty sure the people of Lakeview will find the news of the pending transfer most unwelcome. May God help them should Zinda once again touch down in that struggling town.

One Iron County, Utah local, who shall remain anonymous, said of Zinda’s looming departure, “The locals here will rejoice. He’s trashed a lot of good people here, it’s really sad.”

But a change of location does not necessarily change a man. Chances are, Zinda will continue to tilt at the Cosmos and all things contained therein from his Twitter account, Facebook page, antisemitism-spattered pages of Counterpunch, and other crank soapboxes he may happen upon. In the end, the Monkey Wrench Gang was hounded by the law and scattered, having become victims to their own malfeasance. As a warning to my friends in Oregon. Don’t let this guy monkey-wrench your lives.  9/10/16


The purrfect cat

“But the cat came back the very next day. The cat came back, he just wouldn’t stay away. They thought he was a gonner, But he wouldn’t stay away. Oh, the cat came back!”

“Oh, there he is again, our little friend.  He just keeps coming back.”   The voice of the secretary at my school is exceptionally sweet for someone with the vision and hearing of a raptor. “Who? What little friend?” I peered out the glass doors trying to figure out who was this recurring entity. “The cat. Every morning he joins the kids when they come across the road at the crosswalk, and he goes back with them at the end of the day.”  Then I spied the cat sniffing the grass around the roots of a gigantic sycamore tree.  He was an elegant fellow, festooned with long, ginger-colored fur, his feathery tail unfurled as he jauntily followed some children to the basketball courts. By day three this pertinacious puss had become a campus celebrity.  He effectually owned the place.  He would wander the playgrounds, saunter into classrooms, or the gym when the opportunity arose.  He was a dear young tom.  Teachers and students alike could pick him up, flip him onto his back and scratch his tummy without preamble.  He purred loudly and nuzzled with pleasure.  This cat was the purrfect cat.

The approach of the weekend made the kitty caper a little problematic.  He would cross the street apparently to return to the trailer park at the end of the school day.  But the office manager at the park had been interviewed about the cat and they knew nothing of his comings and goings or of  his people.  It appeared that he had been dumped or abandoned.  So when Friday afternoon rolled round I became uneasy about just leaving our ginger ragamuffin to the whims of the weather and his own wanderings.  Vehicles were filling up the parking lot, the bus loop was teeming with traffic, and cars were whizzing back and forth on the two major streets that frame the campus.  I loathed the possibility that this tender-hearted tomcat  might meet his end underneath a car or bus, or that he might trek to less hospitable environs, never to be cuddled again.  I scooped him up, in the middle of his afternoon preening, his legs stretched out like a ballerina en-pointe, as he licked his tummy, and took him to the office where I told our secretary that the cat would probably not be back on Monday.

Sitting on a couch in the atrium was a little boy who had missed the bus was waiting on his mom to pick him up.  He was about seven and his face was wet with tears of distress.  I sat down next to him and said, “What name do you think we should give this cat?”  The little boy’s sobs were hard and strained and he could not answer. “Well, I think we should call him Aslan.” I took his hand and placed it on the cat’s back and drew it down in a soft stroke.  A little smile creased his eyes and popped out his forlorn cheeks.  “Do you know why I think we should call him Aslan?”  I asked as he wiped his face and shook his head side to side.  “Because he keeps coming back!” Aslan is the central heroic character in C.S. Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia books.  Aslan is the King and Creator of the realm of Narnia and he takes the form of a resplendent lion.  Aslan is the Christ figure who, in a not-so-subtle fashion, is resurrected from death in The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe. This powerful reference to Christian theology was fully intentional on the part of C.S. Lewis.  Aslan leads the Narnians against the forces of evil.  He is the epitome of wisdom and royal grandeur.  And if Aslan must leave for a time, he always, always returns to protect and inspire his subjects. Monster and Princess are my two other cats, both past their primes, persnickety, and preoccupied with napping.  But when Aslan came to my home he melted into its surroundings as if he had always been its sovereign.  My cats were mildly put-out, but the interruption in their routines was barely worth noticing.  They twitched their noses a bit and returned to their kneading and kibbles.  I daily searched the classified ads for notices of a lost kitty that fit Aslan’s description.  I called the animal shelter and reported that I was harboring a stray.  And for three days I waited with no response and no leads.  Aslan had graced us with his loud purring.  He had draped himself across every piece of comfy furniture in the place.  And, most charming of all, he had bonded with my aged cockatiel.  Aslan would stare at the scraggly bird and the bird would stare back, seemingly mesmerized and completely in love.

There was another teacher at my school who had shown an interest in the Christmas kitty.  She had no pets and lived alone with her young son.  And as much as my family had come to love Aslan, this young, divorced teacher, would grow to love him more.  He would be the perfect companion for her.  I had my daughter drop the ginger kitty off at the end of the school day and I presented him to this young teacher as she was lining her kids up for dismissal.  “Merry Christmas cat!” I announced as I placed him in her arms.  Her cheeks were ablush and her eyes were moist as I departed her classroom. Every once in a while a humdrum day hatches out an occasion of wonderment, a moment in which all goodness, love and meaning crystallize in a revelation of truth.  This time it came in the form of a stray cat, a guileless feline, who embodied, through his enduring affection, and his given name, the spirit of Christ at Christmastime.

Liam Neeson is the voice of Aslan in the Narnia movies.  He was apparently attempting to appease all, and ended up standing for nothing, when he spoke the following regarding the Lion; “If all I knew about The Voyage of the Dawn Treader came from the general press conference I attended after the Premiere in London last week, I would come to a pretty startling conclusion: Aslan is like Christ, but could just as easily be like Buddha or Mohammed.”  I would expect more from a nice Irish lad like Neeson, but he does, after all, work in an industry that persecutes Christians and Conservatives as a matter of practice.  So I have to credit Disney and 20th Century Fox for bringing the first three Narnia movies to theatres.  Of course it all makes financial sense to make some of the best-loved children’s fantasy tales into a theatrical series.  Parents and kids alike flock to see these family-friendly, uplifting and timeless stories.  And, are you listening Liam, the Christian message is not lost in the movie making.

This time of year has a way of yielding up little treasures; not trinkets in boxes or stockings, but remembrances of why we bustle, and sing, and celebrate Christmas.  The persona and spirit of The Lord, Jesus Christ is the essence of these treasures.  A treasure may appear in the form of a story penned by a former atheist who became a key, unapologetic Christian author of the 20th century.  Such a treasure may be in a little smile that surfaces through the tears and panic of a little boy as he strokes the fur of a contented and comforting kitty.  Such a treasure may be the gesture of giving something which one has in abundance to another who lacks, even the company of the world’s best  feline sidekick.  And the most impressive treasure of all may be in the innocence and trust borne by a stray cat into over 400 human hearts at an elementary school is Colorado.

Aslan, the cat, the lion: abandoned, betrayed, left alone, left for dead, like the Savior.  Still Jesus Christ bears a perfect love, an innocent optimism, and a regenerating hope into the hearts of all of God’s children.  He is the treasure.  And like an adorable orange cat, and an exultant  lion King,  He too will come back. A message of the light and love of the Living Christ from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints

Ladies, did you ever find yourselves strangely attracted to the rugged virility of Yukon Cornelius? Get all the dirt on him and Mrs. Santa here. 5 Newly Uncovered Weird Moments in the History of Christmas!


The “Green Pants Revolt”

5. Scientist will tell you that penguins are endemic to the Southern Hemisphere, but that’s not the whole truth. In 1827, penguins of all sorts were driven from the Arctic in what has come to be known as the “Green Pants Revolt.” Penguins were once found in dense populations at the North Pole, attributable in-part to Santa Claus’ daily deliveries of smelt, shrimp, and Cracker Jack (a penguin favorite) to the bustling colonies. The sleep-deprived elves, relegated to a scant 3 hours of sleep per night due to a rigorous schedule in the toy factory, complained to Santa that the squawking birds were keeping them up at night. Legend has it that Santa urged the elves to be patient until they could take their annual post-Christmas junket to Cancun, but the irritable elves had other plans. In a midnight raid the elves captured the penguins, boxed them up in chicken crates, and sent them, via slow boat, to Patagonia. And that, kiddies, is why there are no penguins at the North Pole.

No Forgiveness for Mrs. Claus?

4. What is the origin of Santa’s jolly “Ho, ho, ho?” The year was 1950 and a dauntless Arctic frontiersman named Yukon Cornelius passed through Christmas Town while filming a documentary titled, “Finding Bumble.” The ruggedly handsome Yukon Cornelius lodged in the guest house located on the grounds of the Claus manor. Finding the warm hospitality of Mrs. Claus irresistible, he stayed on as a gamekeeper. Tabloids of the day speculated that Santa and Mrs. Claus were experiencing marital problems, and that she found excitement and really great sex in the hairy arms of Yukon Cornelius, thus fomenting a scandal of polar proportions. Overcome by wanderlust following the Christmas rush, Cornelius packed up his video equipment and left in the dead of a January night. Mrs. Claus, heartbroken, and Santa, depressed and beset with eating disorders, sought marital counseling. It is believed that they made amends and renewed their vows in a Las Vegas ceremony, and that Santa’s jolly “Ho, ho, ho!” was heard for the first time in the days following the Claus/Cornelius affair. One must wonder, however, whether Santa’s “Ho, ho, ho” was the exclamation of a happy man, or the rumblings of a bitter old fellow who just couldn’t seem to forgive his wife for errors of the past.

Bindlestick’s Camel

3.The year was zero, and a caravan of nomadic Wise Men were traveling from the Orient, westward to the Mediterranean region then known as Judea. The organizers of the caravan, Hopscotch, Bindlestick, and Flapjacket, all wise kings from Eastern countries, rode patiently atop their dromedary beasts-of-burden for months. Following an exceedingly bright star that appeared night after night, they made their way toward the place where they believed they would find the King of Kings; the prophesied Son of God. Bindlestick’s camel, however, had an odious weekly ritual of announcing that it was Wednesday by repeating, “Guess what day it is…” and carrying on in a most annoying fashion until, near madness, one of the wise men would scream, “It’s Humpday!” Somewhere on the plains of Syria, Bindlestick’s camel met an unfortunate end when Hopscotch, having reached the end of his proverbial rope, choked the poor beast to death precisely at 11:59 p.m. on a Tuesday night. The Wise Men entered the land of Judea minus one camel, but having rescued their sanity.

Santa Psyops over Germany

2. The Allied Forces had invaded Europe and were beating back Hitler’s Army, and freeing millions from the oppression of the Nazis. It was the spring of 1945. But Hitler’s propaganda machine was still going strong and Germans felt confident that Der Fuehrer would win the war for the homeland. The American Office of Special Services (OSS) planned to conduct a massive psychological operation (psyops) in German cities and villages that would cause the people to question Hitler’s ability to lead them to victory. The OSS, the forerunner of today’s CIA, created pamphlets to be dropped from the skies over Germany, but conventional aircraft would be detected and possibly engaged by the enemy. A silent, nighttime drop was required, but there existed no airplane, at that time, sufficiently quiet to go undetected.  Clive Weedle, a savvy young OSS agent from Humptulips, Washington, decided to give Santa Claus the call, and assign the dangerous mission to him and his intrepid team of flying reindeer. Santa, being a supporter of the Allied Forces and a freedom-loving patriot, accepted. During the dead of night in mid-April of 1945, in the silent skies over Germany, Santa, his team of flying reindeer, and three elves dropped, from an altitude of 1,500 ft., 20,000 pamphlets, complete with colorful illustrations, which said, Hitler ist ein Daumenlutschen Transvestit! Translated: Hitler is a thumbsucking transvestite! History informs us that the devastating pamphlets dropped by Santa had a profound psychological effect upon the German people, especially those in Hitler’s inner circle. Just days after the Santa psyops pamphlet drop, Hitler killed himself inside a fortified bunker in the heart of Berlin. It is said that when his body was recovered, he was wearing a bra, panties, fishnet stockings, and pumps which belonged to his wife, Eva Braun.

Santa Claus at Valley Forge

1. Valley Forge served as quarters for George Washington’s Continental Army during the brutal winter of 1777. Despite the fact that most of Washington’s troops had been good little boys during the months before that terrible December, they were disqualified from Santa Claus’ delivery route because of age restrictions. But Santa was concerned about the fledgling republic for which the Americans were fighting and he wanted to help without breaking his own rules. George Washington, exhausted and disheartened by the unspeakable conditions at Valley Forge, took to the drink and was spending his hours lolling about, drunk, in the livery stables. Alarmed, Santa Claus took a sabbatical during the peak toy-making season, to fly down with a few trusted reindeer and have a heart to heart with the general. Concerned that the men would give up if their leader lost his hearty optimism and faith, Santa donned Washington’s uniform and sat in his stead for a few days. Santa tended to the men, and dined alongside them, eating their typical fare of cabbage and vinegar soup. The team of reindeer flew George Washington to Mount Vernon for a much needed weekend with Martha. Upon his return, Washington asked Santa Claus in what manner he could repay the kind deed. The story goes that Santa simply asked the sober and reinvigorated leader of the Continental Army to promise that once they had won independence for the colonies that he would establish a nation where people would be free to live their lives and produce lots, and lots of children. Santa then introduced the general to an old friend from Prussia, named Friedeich Von Steuben, who proved instrumental in Washington’s eventual victory over the British. George Washington took the tales of the secret meetings with Santa at Valley Forge to his grave, and the lone witnesses to the events, Martha Washington and General Von Steuben, provided only cryptic indications in their diaries about how Santa helped win the Revolutionary War.

Things are not all merry and bright at the North Pole. Rumblings of revolution among Santa’s Elves are causing unrest, and Santa’s Chief Elf is planning insurrection. Watch what happens when our favorite fire-breathing, Capitalist, psychotherapist chicken, The Little Red Hen, offers a frustrated short guy a little elf-help advice.

2lrh egg

Setting: Doctor Little Red Hen’s office

Characters: Doctor Hen, Collywobbles the Elf (foreman of Santa’s Workshop, LLC)

Doctor Hen: Bug, bug bugaawk, welcome Mr., uh, Cablewaders.

Collywobbles: That’s Collywobbles, COLLYWOBBLES!

DH: Oh my! Why so testy, Mr. Wollycobbles?

CW: Are you messin’ wit’ me, hu, chicken? Don’t mess wit’ me, you’ll be very sorry.

DH: Excuse me for a minute. Bug, bug, bugaaawwk, bugaaawk. (She reaches underneath herself and pulls out an egg) Mess with who? Are you trying to threaten me? (throwing the egg violently at the elf’s head) Take that you little shit!

CW: OOOOWWW! What the…dammit! You hit me with a friggin’ egg!

DH: Sit down, and take one minute to tell me why you’re in my office, threatening me. Do you think you’re tough, you runt?

CW: Okay, lady, er, Ms. Chicken, I get it. I’ll just sit right here.

DH: My name is Doctor Hen, Little Red Hen if you want to be formal. You pay me for an hour of my time not to threaten me, intimidate me, or vent your hatred in my general direction, but to gleefully accept my guidance and advice on how to make yourself a little less loathsome.

CW: (wiping egg off his face) Yeah, I get it.

DH: Why are you here?

CW: I’m a little low, you know, feeling kinda heavy.

DH: Well, you’re abnormally short, and pretty fat. You should feel low and heavy. Do you have any feelings other of the expected self-loathing that is natural to someone as squat and unattractive as yourself, Mr. Cobbywaddles?

CW: Wow, you are one tough broad.

DH: Very good. That’s the first thing you’ve gotten right so far. Now that you seem clear about my boundaries, go ahead and tell me, what problem brings you to my office?

CW: Well, ya see, things aren’t going so well at work. There’s a lot of tension. A LOT of tension.

DH: And, where do you work?

CW: Well, this is all very top secret stuff. Can I trust you?

DH: Depends.

CW: Please don’t let this get out. If I blow Santa’s cover…erp!

DH: Oh, Mr. Clobberwadder, I think I understand now…are you an elf? Are  you one of Santa’s helpers? Bugaaawk! Hot damn! I have an elf in my office. HA!

CW: Oh geeze, Mrs. Doctor Chicken, please don’t let this get out. It would be really bad for us…us elves.

DH: No need to worry. I suspected it anyway. Who the hell else wears pointy green slippers with bells, and speaks like Richard Simmons sucking helium? So, tell me about the tension at work. How does it make you feel?

CW: Believe you me, it makes me feel very, very pissed. You see, I’ve been kind of agitatin’ the other elves, you know, reminding them that Santa…uh, the large fat guy who employs us, doesn’t pay us what we’re worth. They’re all gettin’ shafted by big fatty, and they don’t even realize it!

DH: Reality Therapy is one of my specialties, so let’s get real. You are extremely short, fat and malformed. You have a voice so irritating it gives me a rash just to hear you talk. Think about it, who else would hire you? SERIOUSLY! Santa Claus is your god-send. You would be working in the circus or in production at MSNBC if it wasn’t for the kindness of the old guy.

CW: Oh, you don’t know the half of it. Let me tell you about the hardships I endure for San…ugh…I can barely say his name without gagging, Santa! I sew the button noses on teddy bears. Day in, day out. My back aches, my fingers are calloused, and all I get for my effort is $32K plus benefits. Who can raise a family on that, hu?

DH: And…how many weeks a year do you work for Mr. Claus?

CW: Umm…

DH: Out with it!

CW: From the end of October until January 11.

DH: Ten weeks! TEN CLUCKING WEEKS! You have it really good elf, perhaps you should leave before I change all of that.

CW: But, what about my problems?

DH: Uh, hu. I have to be straight with you, Mr. Clabberwaffle, workplace issues are not my field. I help people with their psychosocial issues. You come to me whining about getting shafted by your boss when half of the country is unemployed and 60 million chickens are on food stamps, and you want sympathy? Ain’t gonna happen. I’ll be nice and just charge you for half an hour. Please pay nurse Henny Penny on the way out.

CW: No, no, uh, Doctor Chicken lady. This ain’t really about workplace issues. It’s about my innermost feelings about making more money per hour for the toil I put in to make frigging toys day and night. Can I tell you something?

DH: Shoot.

CW: Me and the other elves…we’re planning a walk-out the day before Christmas. Shhhh. Very confidential.

DH: Were you born an idiot, or did your mother use your head to tenderize her minute steak?

CW: An elf labor strike is the only way to get Santa to pay attention to the injustices of his work conditions. An hour for lunch is too short. We want fresh donuts in the break room. It’s only fair. And bigger bonuses. Yes! BIGGER BONUSES!

DH: You should be wishing for bigger penises.

CW: Hu?

DH: Excuse me for a moment. Bugaaawwwk. Oh, look at that, I dropped my pen and I must bend over to pick it up off the floor. Buugaaawwwk, buugaaww, buu, BUUGAAAAWK! (while stooping over, an egg shoots out of her butt with great force and hits the elf in the head)

CW: OUCH! Son of a…what the…holy just shot a frigging egg out of your butt and hit me in the head! That hurt!

DH: Good! Now, sit still while I slap you around a bit.

CW: NO! Please, no! Look, I just came here looking for a little emotional support. This is a very stressful time!

DH: Stressful? Look, punk, I know your boss. He’s a friend of mine, we go waaay back. Now, Santa Claus knows stress. Think about it you pea-brained puke. The happiness of every child on the planet is on his shoulders. Every year he visits every hopeful kid in the world, and NEVER disappoints. Sure, some kids get toothpick dolls and some kids get ponies, but everyone gets something, all thanks to Santa. All he asks from you, you little maggot, and the other elves–who are paid very well, by the way–is ten weeks of effort to make the world a happy place for one little night. Santa is no young man. He’s old, very old. He has aches and pains, he’s a little forgetful, but he loves all those little kids, and you know what Mr. Collywobbles, he loves you too. Now suck it up. There’s nothing wrong with you but your crappy attitude and union membership. If you want a little elf-help advice from me, I say drop them both.

CW: Yeah, I guess you might be right, Doctor Hen. To be honest, maybe I’m not cut out to be an elf.

DH: What would you do if you didn’t work at Santa’s Workshop, LLC?

CW: My real passion…um, I’m a little embarrassed.

DH: It’s okay, tell me what you want to do with your life.

CW: Ballroom dancing. I really wanna teach ballroom dancing.

DH: Hmmm…Let me tell you a true story. Now this was a long time ago, you probably hadn’t been hired by Santa’s Workshop, LLC, when this happened because you obviously lack that old-timey work ethic, but hear me out anyway. Santa had a little elf who, though he worked hard and never complained, really didn’t fit in with the whole toy-making thing. You could say he was a misfit elf. His name was Hermey. Now this elf suffered in silence, while is real passion boiled inside him for years, maybe centuries. You know what this little elf really wanted out of life?

CW: Uh, Hermey? No, what did he want, Ballroom dancing?

DH: Dentistry, oral surgery, anything having to do with mouths. He loved it; pulling teeth, fillings, veneers, root canals, bleaches, crowns, implants, you name it! He even did some work on very large mammals…but that’s a story for another time. Anyway, Hermey repressed his desires for a while. After all, he was treated well, fed, housed, paid an excellent wage, and given good benefits by Santa’s company. But eventually he had to follow his dreams of Dentistry. He took a risk and left the workforce; no agitatin’, no planned walk-outs, no union shenanigans, no “Elves of the World Unite” bullshit. Hermey tendered his resignation, Santa accepted it, tearfully yes, but he loved Hermey like a son and supported his career move. Hermey eventually married a pretty little elf named Angina, fathered 10 or 20 elflets, moved to Orem, Utah, and now runs an international chain of dental clinics, “Bumble Dentistry, Inc.”

CW: Mmm…sniff.

DH: Why the tears? What are you feeling right now?

CW: Oh, Doctor Hen, I feel so…so empty, like someone just cut out my heart.

DH: Those feelings are appropriate to the moment and circumstance. Think about it, you’ve lived your life being an asshole. You should feel bad.

CW: I don’t really know what to do. Now that I think about it, Santa’s Workshop is really a pretty good company. I mean, he sizes everything to us elves, and every Friday Mrs. Claus make a homemade feast for us to eat during lunch break. Maybe I’ve been petty, ungrateful. But…the other elves might mock me if I come back to work…different.

DH: Trust me, you couldn’t be anymore “different” than you already are, you’re an elf remember. Let me give you a little more advice. No more of the “Community Organizer” crap. No more whining and moaning about how hard you have it. No more hating the Jolly Old Elf who takes such good care of you. You’re going to go back to work, tell the other elves what an ingrate you’ve been, work through your contract with no walk-outs or agitation, and you’re going to do the best job you can for Santa and all the little kids he works so hard to make happy for one day. Got it.

CW: Okay, Doctor Hen.

DH: Do all these things with exactness and a good attitude, and come back to see me on January 12th. I know this guy named Arthur Murray, he’s an old friend. I’ll set you up with your ballroom dancing dream.

CW: Really? Oh my gosh, Doctor Hen! That would be so wonderful.

DH: My pleasure. You’re a changed elf, Mr. Collywobbles. Now go and do something nice for Christmas.

CW: I don’t know if you realize it, Doctor Hen, but I think you’ve saved Christmas.

DH: Bugaaawk, thanks. But it’s not the first time. Back a few years ago I had to do an intervention when Mrs. Claus got just a little too chummy with Yukon Cornelius, but that’s a story for another time.

by Marjorie Haun  12/11/13

Meet your favorite neighbors, the Carbuncle family. After reading this, you will never, ever again skip over a Christmas letter.



Well, the year started off a little rough when, on the first day back from Christmas break, little Latrina got kicked out of school for sending her math teacher to the hospital. She says he called her a “stute,” and that’s why she threw the chair at him and walked out of class. I raised my little girl not to be a stute. She is a good girl. I do believe she did the right thing. But not being in school and all, Latrina went to work making about $70 a day standing on the corner by Walmart, holding a sign that said, “I’m not homeless but my mama’s too lazy to get a job so she makes me do this bulls***.” Latrina is an honest girl just like I taught her to be.


Latrina did well making money on the corner by Walmart but unfortunately one week it got real cold and the thermometer dipped below 0* for a few days. Latrina had to go to the hospital to have all her fingers and toes removed since they turned black from the frostbite. But she’s a fast healer and as soon as it warmed up again she went right back to work, and talk about a cash cow! My little Latrina, without fingers or toes, is pulling in twice as much cash as before. Thank God for small miracles! Uncle Sputum came down with an incurable skin disease and so he got an early release from the state prison! He moved in with us but we don’t have a lot of room bein’s Bubo, Boyle and Blain live here with Latrina, me, Aunt Edema, and the 7 dogs. Uncle Sputum don’t mind sleeping in the shed, which is preferable to us because he smells kinda bad, especially on warm days. But he does some cooking for us. The ingredients are a little strange, since he gets most of them from a chemistry catalog, but he’s making it just fine for now and always seems to have a lot of pep!


This was a sad month for us as Uncle Sputum was killed in a shoot-out with cops right outside the trailer on St. Patrick’s Day. I swear, he was just celebrating when he got naked, took my shotgun and started shooting the crows in that tree across the street. He didn’t mean to aim that gun at the cops. He was a good man. We will all miss Uncle Sputum. I put an ad on Craig’s List for to sell his chemistry equipment and weird cookbooks. He spent an awful lot of time cooking, but it weren’t food. But that’s okay cause I lost 100 pounds while Uncle Sputum was living here. God rest his gentle soul.


Well, we like it when the weather warms up this time of year, but the snow melts and the neighbors tell us to clean up all the dog crap the snow has been hiding since October. It’s not a pleasant job, but Bubo, Boyle and Blain do it for me, and it’s easy just to scoop up the dog dirt and toss it over the fence–into the neighbor’s yard. That’s where my brother’s ex-wife’s cousin’s niece lives and she’s not a nice person. Back in 1998 she tricked my brother’s ex-wife’s cousin’s best friend into knocking her up cause he’s a professional cage fighter and she lives off the child support he pays her for that baby. Oh, how I hate these low-life people. They got no class at all. For Easter we all loaded up in the van and went to Pea Ridge to celebrate with Aunt Edema’s daughter, Biopsy, who is also my favorite cousin. She filled up plastic Easter Eggs with things like used cotton balls and twisty ties and such and the kids just had a blast hunting for them. Biopsy don’t have much property though, so she hid them in the cemetery across the highway from her place. But good things can go bad, and apparently somebody called the cops on Boyle, who was havin’ so much fun he forgot himself and took a pee on a tombstone. Easter came to a sad end when I had to post bond for all three of my boys, since Bubo and Blain were arrested along with Boyle for trying to tip over the patrol car. They’re good strong boys. I can’t believe all this happened just because Boyle had to relieve himself. But it’s a great blessing that Latrina had enough money saved up so I could bail my boys out of county lock-up. It’s enough to make you want to kill, skin and cook the danged Easter Bunny.


This was a month to celebrate! Cousin Phlegm’s boy, Ryot, was the only boy in his class of the age of 15 to graduate from 6th grade! We were all so proud. The family, except Latrina ’cause she was working the corner next to Golden Corral downtown that day, met at Phlegm’s place where we had a real big party for Ryot. Phlegm’s wife, Listeria, got some food from the salvage food store and there was music and a wading pool and more beer than you could believe. Aunt Edema wore her favorite tube top and that made her back cyst real obvious. Ryot, a real smart boy, had the great idea that we should drain her cyst so everybody could watch. Then Bubo piped up and said, “hey, let’s film you poppin’ her cyst so we can put it on Youtube!” We spent a good 30 minutes watching Listeria drain Edema’s cyst. Oh, it stunk, and you had to stand back so it didn’t squirt on you, but that kept everybody entertained for the whole afternoon.


Some gifts just keep on givin’. Bubo put the video of Aunt Edema’s cyst drainin’ on Youtube and guess what? We got 2,346,702 views and, you know what that means? We got enough money from the ads that WE WENT TO DISNEY! Latrina stayed home and took care of the trailer and dogs while the rest of us went on vacation. She’s such a good girl. I raised her that way. Plus, without any fingers, I knew it might be hard for Latrina to keep a grip on those adventure rides. And I would feel just awful if anything bad happened to that girl.


We got some real sad news on the 4th of July. Apparently Uncle Phlegm and Aunt Listeria’s boy, Ryot, tried to shoot off some homemade fireworks. He had good intentions and all ’cause he just wanted to relive the wonderful fireworks shows we saw at Disney every night for two weeks. I don’t know why he thought a welding torch would be good to light his homemade fireworks but it didn’t go very well. Poor Ryot, one of the only kids in the family to graduate 6th grade, lost both arms up to the elbows in the explosion. While Phlegm and Listeria were in the hospital with Ryot, their komodo dragon, Marlin, escaped and hasn’t been seen since.


If there is an angel on earth it would be Latrina. That girl is such a sweetheart. She really wanted to cheer Ryot up since he was feeling kinda down, being armless and all. As soon as that boy got out of the hospital she put him to work with her asking for money at the corner by Applebee’s. He learned how to hold an old ice cream bucket with the handle in his teeth and when people would see these two precious children; a girl with no fingers or toes and a boy with no arms up to his elbows, they just load them up with cash. I tell you, sometimes bad things happen, but then it turns out better than winning the lottery. Phlegm and Listeria both quit their jobs at the convenience store and that gives us some real good catchin’ up time. Especially since we all love to play cards.


Boyle, my middle son, is a special boy and I always believed he was star material. I don’t know if I mentioned this before but he spends a lot of time pretending to be a dog. He will play with the dogs, roll around with them in the dirt, chase cars, sniff their butts and such. Well it got really heartwarming when one of our mongrel bitches had a big litter of pups that she couldn’t care for all by herself. Boyle, bless his heart, got in the box with that mama dog just like he was a bitch himself. He cleaned the pups with his tongue. He let them nurse at his nipples–he really seemed relaxed during nursing time–he was just an excellent dog. Well, then we heard that TLC Channel was looking for people to feature in their reality program called “My Strange Attention-Getting Behavior” and we all immediately thought of Boyle. Guess what? He met with the producer of the show and got all set up do his own episode! My boy was set to be a television star! Unfortunately, the filming had to be delayed when Boyle came down with a real bad case of tapeworms.


What a crazy month. I spent a couple of weeks helping Boyle nurse his tapeworm infection.  I heard about this real expensive medicine the doctor wanted Boyle to take but instead of spending the money, I just had him swallow his chewing tobacco instead of spitting it out. With poor Boyle sufferin’ and all I completely forgot about my precious angel baby, Latrina. One day Bubo noticed that the housework was behind and piped up and said, Mama, “It looks like Latrina is slacking on her jobs. Where is she anyway?” Then my heart just  about stopped when I realized that I hadn’t seen her or Ryot since that TLC Channel producer feller was looking at Boyle to be the next big TV star. Blain, the calm one, just said if we wait long enough Latrina and Ryot would show up. So we sat down on the couch and clicked on the TV to the TLC Channel, and GUESS WHO WE SAW HAD THEIR OWN TV SHOW? You know it! Latrina and Ryot were right there on the TV screen in their own television reality program called, “Amputee Panhandlers.” Poor Boyle was just heartbroken. But for now, Aunt Edema is going back to work at the water plant and I guess the boys will have to pick up the chores.


Well, sometimes you think things can’t get any worse then your own kid turns on you. As if it wasn’t bad enough that I had to go get Bubo, Boyle and Blain out of jail on Halloween night for nothing more than borrowing a police patrol car and collecting jack ‘o’ lanterns off folks’ porches and donating them to the poor folks here in the trailer park. Those boys were just doing charity. You’d think the cops would give them credit for being kind to people. Well, while I was still trying to recover, the day after Halloween I got a letter from Latrina. Only, it wasn’t from Latrina. It was from some fancy lawyer representing her and Ryot. It said my baby girl and her cousin Ryot got legally emancipated and are now in charge of all the money they make on their TV reality program. Here, this is what it said; “Heretofore wherewith Ryot Sluge and Latrina Carbuncle, having been found to be self-sufficient with adequate means for support, will herewith put their forthcoming funds in a trust to be held forever for their personal benefit into perpetuity, having severed all ties forthwith and from this day forward and shall have no contact with members of either the Sluge or Carbuncle families.” Don’t that just break your heart. I was so good to them kids. I just saw on the TMZ website that “Amputee Panhandlers” was the biggest new thing since Jersey Shore. I bet those kids are millionaires. S***!


Trying to take my mind off Latrina and the way she did us wrong, the boys and I spent the time making Christmas ornaments out of stuff we found around the house since we’re poor because Latrina cheated us out of our happy life. It’s amazing what you can make from used paper plates and Copenhagen cans. We have a lot of Copenhagen cans around as Boyle still struggles with his tapeworms. Aunt Edema isn’t here to help me with the house cleaning since she went back to work at the water plant then moved in with Cousin Biopsy. Uncle Phlegm and Aunt Edema were so broken up over what Ryot and Latrina did that they moved to Oregon in their 5th-wheel. Their komodo dragon, Marlin, got his pictures all over town in the post office and police station and dog pound. Apparently Marlin had a habit of eating litters of new puppies. Good thing Boyle still sleeps with our dogs and keeps them safe from that damn lizard. Well, as you can tell, we’re feeling kind of down and we don’t expect this Christmas to have much cheer. But if you would like to help us out we sure would appreciate it. Cash is really what this little family needs. After all, Christmas is about givin’.

Happy Christmas from Mama Candida Carbuncle and sons (’cause I don’t got a daughter anymore)

by Marjorie Haun  12/12/15




November 7, 2016

Hillary’s Email Debacle Leaves More Questions than Answers


Last October I had a conversation with a senior F.B.I. attorney at a public fund-raising event who I have known socially for a number of years. And being afforded the opportunity, I just couldn’t help but ask: So, what’s the status of the Hillary email debacle? Of course, initially I got what we all have come to recognize as the F.B.I.‘s auto-response apologetic: I’m sorry, but you know I can’t comment on any investigation that remains ongoing, etc., etc., etc. But then, to my astonishment, as my friend prepared to return to their table, our conversation ended with what I have since thought to be a remarkable statement on their part. This is from memory, not notes, but I’ll put it in quotes for easy reading: “But… I can tell you this. We both know that, if you or I had ever been caught doing even a fraction of what we all already know that she did in mishandling state secrets, you or I would most certainly be in federal custody by now.”

At the time I found this statement to be refreshing, in that, coming from a government official, it was disarmingly honest. Americans have become so conditioned to expect less from our government. We are amazed, even excited, by the rare occurrence when they do us the honor of rising above those expectations and actually give us the unvarnished truth. I left the event that last October night thinking: Is there any more I need to know?

But with the passage of time, my friend’s statement has become increasingly unsettling. Now, five months later, it has left me with more questions than answers.

Let’s put aside for the moment the question of why Hillary has yet to be indicted. Why, to date, hasn’t she even been officially interrogated by the F.B.I. about her emails? Thousands of emails on her unofficial and unsecured server have been found to contain classified material. Yet, they have not even approached her to discuss the matter. Why?

Is it because they know Hillary is a known congenital liar and that such an interrogation would virtually guarantee her exposure to charges for obstruction of justice, just like Martha Stewart, General Petraeus, Scooter Libby and others were, long before Hillary came along? As the latter all soon learned, it is a crime for a person suspected of violating federal law to lie or even give misleading information to a federal investigator. Yet, with the ball in their court, the F.B.I. has failed to take even this minimal action with respect to Hillary in what is now almost a year since the story broke. Why? Does it evidence a decision by someone in the Administration to isolate Hillary from any further prosecutorial exposure, while the Justice Department can focus upon finding a way to make her current exposure disappear in a politically acceptable manner?

Hillary herself recently declared with frightening confidence in the course of a nationally televised debate that she will never be indicted. The glaring  question that remains unasked of her, however, is: How does she know that? It certainly leaves one to wonder if a deal has already been cut with the present Administration for her to obtain some kind of a disguised equivalent of a pardon. Certainly using the cloak of secrecy that envelopes federal grand jury proceedings, the system could be manipulated by the Administration to allow them to present her exoneration to the public without any particular Administration official having to take the blame for the decision.

Even so, are we not still left with the over-arching questions that have remained unanswered since the email debacle began? Are we, or are we not, supposed to be a nation of laws, and not man — where all are to be considered as equals in the sight of the law? And if not, when did our country change? But, more importantly, why do so many not seem to care? Have we as a nation lost sight of the fact that a two-tiered system of justice is more indicative of a dictatorship than of a democracy?

A government of the people, by the people and for the people, cannot long survive as such where there is allowed to exist a separate tier of justice reserved only for an elite few wherein those elite are allowed to manipulate, if not torque the system at will to extend mercy, if not absolute immunity, to their fellow club members for their violations of laws that are otherwise enforced without mercy against the multitudes. Sadly, however, if my friend in the F.B.I. was correct, is this not exactly what appears to be playing out in the Administration’s handling of Hillary’s emails?

Of course, my hope is that it is not. But, if it is, at least those of us out here among the multitudes will now be able to better understand how two people in America can violate laws intended to protect our national security with opposite results. One — like Hillary — can remain free to run for President — while the other — like Snowden — must run for his life as long as he can remain free.

© 2016 Clifford C. Nichols. Cliff Nichols is an attorney licensed to practice law in both California and New Mexico. He may be contacted at

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Reposted by  11/7/16

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