If you read the poem “Gunga Din” by Rudyard Kipling, you will understand why I chose it as a name for this. The last line is especially relevant…..
“ Though I've belted you and flayed you,
By the livin' Gawd that made you,
You’re a better man than I am, Gunga Din!”
A LETTER TO OUR POLITICIANS
America is sick of your greed.
Start doing the right thing instead of what you think your constituents want you to do to get yourself elected and re-elected.
Stop the senseless fighting amongst yourselves that has put us at risk both here and abroad; our security is not debatable and you will be held accountable if one of the moron terrorists you want to supply with free Korans and lawyers gets out and kills innocent Americans.
Stop putting our country down and making it OK for foreign countries to do it; we aren’t responsible for the ills of the earth. Why do you think everyone wants to come here and no one wants to leave? They see you blaming the United States for all the problems of the world and they believe it. This gives every 2 bit tin horn dictator an excuse to rile up the whackos and breeds hatred for America.
Stop passing useless legislation that is only to get your faces in the press and does nothing. Seatbelt laws, hate crime laws, banning the use of cell phones in cars and global warming legislation does nothing to better our country or our lives but makes it look like you “care” to the morons that aren’t paying attention.
Stop spending our tax dollars to make yourself look good. If you think a pet project is really worthwhile, then spend your own damn money on it and start spending money that we work hard for and is taken from us at the threat of prison better. We spend more money than ever on education and kids who graduate high school can’t read.
If you can’t fix social security then get rid of it and while your at it, get rid of all the perks you have given yourselves starting with your free health care for life and then move on to your lucrative retirement program; you take the social security like the rest of us and I bet it gets fixed in a hurry.
Stop telling us you can’t keep 12 million illegal immigrants out of our country; you seem to have no problem collecting income taxes from 300 million real Americans.
Start dealing with things you are supposed to deal with, things the constitution gives you the power to deal with and nothing else. If it isn’t in the constitution, you have no right to do anything; our founding fathers were a lot smarter than you. There is a reason your powers are limited and all you have to do is look at how screwed up you have our country to understand it.
Stop telling us how much we have to sacrifice to save fuel and stop pollution; you all fly first class and ride in limo’s. Why do you think your approval ratings are so low? Because we know you are hypocrites; stop playing us for fools.
If giving the majority of our income to the government and strict governmental controls were tickets to success, the former Soviet Union would be flourishing but it isn’t, it is gone. If we keep going the way we are, we will be too. So, instead of being the one that keeps his power by passing more laws, be the one who gets rid of a few; that will make you a real hero to the American people.
And finally, stop governing by sticking your finger in the air and seeing which way the political winds are blowing. We want leaders who will lead, not followers who only take a stance when they know it is safe. If doing the right thing means you lose an election, know that you have won something far more important, respect.
ARTICLES WORTH READING.....
Muslim hate crime? I haven’t heard about this in the main stream press….
http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,276539,00.html
It shouldn’t be this hard to find these truths but I guess news about panda bears and how to cook quiche keeps everyone happy…..
http://thereligionofpeace.com/
Too much time on their hands? Al Gore wants a room in first class…….
http://www.breitbart.com/article.php?id=paArkth14turkeyNoah146sArk&show_article=1&catnum=0
Hillary is a woman of the people…..
http://apnews.myway.com/article/20070531/D8PF3OIO0.html
When will CBS tell us about this one? Dianne Feinstein is just trying to make a living….
http://mypetjawa.mu.nu/archives/187158.php
Bush just doesn’t get it on immigration…..
http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,107655,00.html
Illegal immigration poll…….
http://www.worldnetdaily.com/news/article.asp?ARTICLE_ID=44154
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
GUNGA DIN
Gunga Din
Rudyard Kipling
YOU may talk o’ gin and beer When you’re quartered safe out ’ere, An’ you’re sent to penny-fights an’ Aldershot it;
But when it comes to slaughterYou will do your work on water, An’ you’ll lick the bloomin’ boots of ’im that’s got it.
Now in Injia’s sunny clime, Where I used to spend my time A-servin’ of ’Er Majesty the Queen, Of all them blackfaced crew The finest man I knew Was our regimental bhisti, Gunga Din.
He was “Din! Din! Din! You limpin’ lump o’ brick-dust, Gunga Din! Hi! slippery hitherao! Water, get it! Panee lao You squidgy-nosed old idol, Gunga Din.”
The uniform ’e woreWas nothin’ much before, An’ rather less than ’arf o’ that be’ind, For a piece o’ twisty rag An’ a goatskin water-bag Was all the field-equipment ’e could find.
When the sweatin’ troop-train layIn a sidin’ through the day, Where the ’eat would make your bloomin’ eyebrows crawl, We shouted “Harry By!” Till our throats were bricky-dry, Then we wopped ‘im ‘cause ’e couldn’t serve us all.
It was “Din! Din! Din! You ’eathen, where the mischief ’ave you been? You put some juldee in it Or I’ll marrow you this minute If you don’t fill up my helmet, Gunga Din!”
’E would dot an’ carry oneTill the longest day was done; An’ ’e didn’t seem to know the use o’ fear. If we charged or broke or cut, You could bet your bloomin’ nut,’E’d be waitin’ fifty paces right flank rear. With ’is mussick on ‘is back,’E would skip with our attack, An’ watch us till the bugles made “Retire”, An’ for all ’is dirty ’ide’E was white, clear white, inside When ’e went to tend the wounded under fire!
It was “Din! Din! Din!” With the bullets kickin’ dust-spots on the green. When the cartridges ran out, You could hear the front-files shout, ”Hi! ammunition-mules an’ Gunga Din!”
I shan’t forgit the night When I dropped be’ind the fight With a bullet where my belt-plate should ’a’ been. I was chokin’ mad with thirst, An’ the man that spied me first Was our good old grinnin’, gruntin’ Gunga Din.’ E lifted up my ’ead, An’ he plugged me where I bled, An’ ’e guv me ’arf-a-pint o’ water-green: It was crawlin’ and it stunk, But of all the drinks I’ve drunk, I’m gratefullest to one from Gunga Din.
It was “Din! Din! Din! Ere’s a beggar with a bullet through ’is spleen; ’E’s chawin’ up the ground, An’ ’e’s kickin’ all around: For Gawd’s sake git the water, Gunga Din!”
’E carried me away To where a dooli lay, An’ a bullet come an’ drilled the beggar clean.’E put me safe inside, An’ just before ’e died, “I ’ope you liked your drink”, sez Gunga Din.
So I’ll meet ’im later on At the place where ’e is gone—Where it’s always double drill and no canteen; ’E’ll be squattin’ on the coals Givin’ drink to poor damned souls, An’ I’ll get a swig in hell from Gunga Din!
Yes, Din! Din! Din! You Lazarushian-leather Gunga Din!
Though I’ve belted you and flayed you,
By the livin’ Gawd that made you,
You’re a better man than I am, Gunga Din!
Rudyard Kipling
YOU may talk o’ gin and beer When you’re quartered safe out ’ere, An’ you’re sent to penny-fights an’ Aldershot it;
But when it comes to slaughterYou will do your work on water, An’ you’ll lick the bloomin’ boots of ’im that’s got it.
Now in Injia’s sunny clime, Where I used to spend my time A-servin’ of ’Er Majesty the Queen, Of all them blackfaced crew The finest man I knew Was our regimental bhisti, Gunga Din.
He was “Din! Din! Din! You limpin’ lump o’ brick-dust, Gunga Din! Hi! slippery hitherao! Water, get it! Panee lao You squidgy-nosed old idol, Gunga Din.”
The uniform ’e woreWas nothin’ much before, An’ rather less than ’arf o’ that be’ind, For a piece o’ twisty rag An’ a goatskin water-bag Was all the field-equipment ’e could find.
When the sweatin’ troop-train layIn a sidin’ through the day, Where the ’eat would make your bloomin’ eyebrows crawl, We shouted “Harry By!” Till our throats were bricky-dry, Then we wopped ‘im ‘cause ’e couldn’t serve us all.
It was “Din! Din! Din! You ’eathen, where the mischief ’ave you been? You put some juldee in it Or I’ll marrow you this minute If you don’t fill up my helmet, Gunga Din!”
’E would dot an’ carry oneTill the longest day was done; An’ ’e didn’t seem to know the use o’ fear. If we charged or broke or cut, You could bet your bloomin’ nut,’E’d be waitin’ fifty paces right flank rear. With ’is mussick on ‘is back,’E would skip with our attack, An’ watch us till the bugles made “Retire”, An’ for all ’is dirty ’ide’E was white, clear white, inside When ’e went to tend the wounded under fire!
It was “Din! Din! Din!” With the bullets kickin’ dust-spots on the green. When the cartridges ran out, You could hear the front-files shout, ”Hi! ammunition-mules an’ Gunga Din!”
I shan’t forgit the night When I dropped be’ind the fight With a bullet where my belt-plate should ’a’ been. I was chokin’ mad with thirst, An’ the man that spied me first Was our good old grinnin’, gruntin’ Gunga Din.’ E lifted up my ’ead, An’ he plugged me where I bled, An’ ’e guv me ’arf-a-pint o’ water-green: It was crawlin’ and it stunk, But of all the drinks I’ve drunk, I’m gratefullest to one from Gunga Din.
It was “Din! Din! Din! Ere’s a beggar with a bullet through ’is spleen; ’E’s chawin’ up the ground, An’ ’e’s kickin’ all around: For Gawd’s sake git the water, Gunga Din!”
’E carried me away To where a dooli lay, An’ a bullet come an’ drilled the beggar clean.’E put me safe inside, An’ just before ’e died, “I ’ope you liked your drink”, sez Gunga Din.
So I’ll meet ’im later on At the place where ’e is gone—Where it’s always double drill and no canteen; ’E’ll be squattin’ on the coals Givin’ drink to poor damned souls, An’ I’ll get a swig in hell from Gunga Din!
Yes, Din! Din! Din! You Lazarushian-leather Gunga Din!
Though I’ve belted you and flayed you,
By the livin’ Gawd that made you,
You’re a better man than I am, Gunga Din!
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