Republicans Enslaved By Their President By Chelle Stockman

Gullible Republicans by Chelle Stockman

Letters to Kerry and Soros

 

Dear Senator Kerry;

 

We do have a plan, several of them. I know we are not able to speak of them in 5 minutes.  Even the President is unable to do that with his speech writers.  Tell them so next time they ask.

 

When they say this President gave us tax-cuts, ask Americans where taxes come from.  Then point out to them that the so called cuts (kickbacks) come from money that rightfully belongs to them.  Ask them if it wouldn't be better to have better wages and earn more interest on their investments such as savings accounts?  Ask them what kind of interest they get under Republican leadership and ask them to recall what they earned under Carter.

 

This is easy stuff.   See the letter I mailed to Soros, please.  Bye for now.

 

Why is it, Sir, that the media doesn't see that while in the congressional hearings and on the senate floor the democrats do have a plan?  Don't any of them watch the hearings? 

 

I've watched as those who hijacked the Republican Party deny the Democrats their voice.  They shoot them down immediately; and pilfer the Democrats ideas and do so in a poorly fashion, then sell them to their supporters who wait as I do for one good thing to come out of their crap.  Why is it that it is up to the Democrats to give out a plan or solutions in half hour or less clips on TV News talk shows? 

 

Don't Americans realize we are in catastrophic trouble?  It could take weeks, months even, to put forth a workable solution.

 

When this administration tells us they have given kickbacks in the form of tax cuts, don't Americans realize the money this administration gives to them, is already their own?  

 

For me, Sir, it is so simple.  What is so difficult to understand about what this administration is doing?  Why are Americans so easily corralled and held prisoner in their silence?

 

Mr. Soros?  Help me to help us.  Advise me about whom it is I need to phone and fax.  Time is running out, Sir.

Dare to be wrong, Dare to be heard, by Chelle Stockman

Have any of you ever lost an argument?  For those of you who have, how did it make you feel?  I imagine it made you feel as though you were not prepared enough with facts.  I imagine some of you felt you did not belong in the arena of debate.

As for me, I was never good with argument;therefore, I avoided it.  However, for the past 5 years, I've been called on for my opinions and also for facts to support them.  Without realizing it, I was being called to debate.  I am now told that I'm good at argument.  I'm not though.  You see, I don't believe the person who wins the argument is right.  They are only more informed in the subjects they argue or just master debators. My proofs are the many innocent people who are incarcerated and serving time in prisons around our country.  Other proofs are those who are guilty but walk freely because the prosecution made a less than convincing case.  In such cases, the truth failed to be represented. 

Much of what we argue in the name of politics has nothing to do with being right, or even the truth; but it has everything to do with 1) who presents the best case for the listening audience and 2) the expectations of the listening audience. 

Henry Fountain Ashurst in his formula for political success concluded his small disortation with this final comment: "And, finally, the politician must always tell people what they want to hear."

Because of our attitudes regarding what it takes to be heard, many voices go unheard.  People, especially the meek, withhold their voice.  This is a shame because they have the right to speak, the right to be wrong and the right to be heard.  For all of you who fear being wrong, or losing an argument, please begin using your voice now.  There will be those who will find some reason to disagree with you, so you may as well give them a reason.  Words can be transforming and you never know who will be transformed.  It could even be you.  The screamers will soon lose their voices because people are tuning them out.  So it is up to the simple minded and quietly eloquent to keep those who represent us abreast of contemporary concerns. 

We aren't just a race alienated by the color of our skin; or, a religious representative opposing others who don't think as we do; we are human with human and yes, less than perfect thoughts.  Our respresentatives must consider the differing hopes, fears, and concerns of us all.

I look forward to hearing your voice and reading your dissent. 

Chelle Stockman

Dan and Ben graduated from Boot Camp

Here are some fine young men who freely chose to do a different kind of duty for our country.  Let us remember that each of is called to discipline and honor and that each of us has our path to both.  For folks like these young gents, their path is clear. 

I'm proud of you both!

The tallest young man with brown eyes is my eldest son, Daniel and he is 18 yrs. old.

OPEC,Iran, and America by Chelle Stockman

 

OPEC, Iran, and America   by Chelle Stockman

Back in 2003 I had written quite a lot about Bill Clinton's proposal and Congress' support on the Iraqi Freedom Act of 1998.  I continuously linked it to G.W. Bush's campaign speech on Jim Leherer's show (Feb. 16, 2000) where Bush announced he was going after Saddam Hussein no matter what it took, with the purposes of removal--even if it meant bombing Iraq.  Then the towers came down (conveniently), the bad intel, the ignored correct intel, and the hijacking of the Republican Party by the Neo-Cons who effectively inflamed the extremists of that party and nullified the effectiveness of the party's moderates.

Last Thursday, I saw a bone chilling repeat of 1998's handoff for the next presidency. Congress signed the Iran Freedom Support Act (2006).  So to determine who our next president shall be, we should listen to the candidate who intends to sanction and remove Mahmoud Ahmadinejad.  Keep in mind that it may take another huge devastating event like the World Trade Centers to rally Americans in order to take us to war with Iran and remove their president.  From there, the Neo-Cons will incite the passions of the extremists in the Democrat Party and nullify the effectiveness of the moderates, then we can be in war in Iran, just like we are in Iraq.

Is it about oil?  It's about OPEC.  The greedy corporate thugs want to control all rights to every paying energy, including oil; so yes, in part, it is about oil.  However, it is more about breaking up OPEC and privatizing all the valuable energy sources. 

Currently we are blocking the advances of Syria as our military bases have Western Iraq all shored up.  Next we shall do the same to the Eastern access which is at Iran's borders to Iraq.  But more importantly, we will have easier, uncontested or at least controlled access to the Northern tip of Iraq where the Kurds once controlled (until we fought them back)--the world's most prized source of natural gas, the Caspian Sea.  I call the Caspian Sea the "bottomless" pit mentioned in Revelations and foresee Dick Cheney as the key holder.

Think about some of this.  If you see any similarities at all to where we currently are, speak out.

Here is a Chinese Proverb I find myself resonating to:

If we don't change direction, we shall end up where we are heading.      (selah)

That's all for now.

Cnn poll: Answers by Chelle Stockman

Cnn asked us if any of these issues would influence the way we vote this next election.  Here are my responses.

Moral issues:
In regard to morality, I saw a sign on the fanny of San Francisco dancer at a protest.  It read, "Get your ducks out of our quacks."  This constitution has been sullied since morality was taken out of God's hands and put into the hands of legislators and our Supreme Ones.  I'm praying they shall repent(this current administration) and even if they should, I'll not vote for one person they endorse. 

The Economy:
First they redistributed the wealth, now they redistribute the people.  No Child Left Behind is a cloak for No Child Remaining. Out go the manufacturing jobs, in come illegals to do the labor.  Unions are perishing due to this neo-privitization of industry while the fat-cats send their profits to offshore banks hoping to avoid taxation.  Guess its working out well for them.  Our President is glorying in our economic gains along side of John Bolton and Mr. Snow.  Guess we will be the kings of welfare the illegals will have to support; that or take a government job.  Tell me, do you think I'll be voting for one of these jackals?  If Humpty Dumpty could get enough signatures, I'd vote for him over any friend of George's.

Terrorism:

The Patriot Act and Homeland Security haven't protected us from the Child Abusers, the wife-beaters, the violent offenders, the tax collectors, and bill collectors; so what makes any of us think we are safe from all the other terrorists? Seems to me this administration who force feeds the world on "democracy" is the most devastating of all terrorists to America.

Illegal Immigration:
Illegal Immigration?   I can argue the many sides of this issue, but the most compelling truth is that this administration are all offspring of immigrants.  Look what they've done to our song, Ma.  Not one of them is getting my support. I'm hoping that because we haven't got the sense to impeach the knuckleheads, the World Courts will try them on war crimes.

Iraq:
When it comes to Iraq; what did this administration claim it was spreading?  Oh yeah, Democracy.  Couldn't they just affect the enemy with love?  This democracy infection isn't working.

Kill OPEC and we shall compete for privitized oil.  Hmm, Syria to the west and Iran to the right.  North?  The Caspian.  Nahhhh.  We aren't waring for the bottomless pit of Natural Gas are we?  Say it ain't so: go ahead President Bush.  What's one more lie amongst many?

Letter to Dan, my son, my soldier by Chelle Stockman

8-26-06

Dear Daniel,

       Howdy doodie soldier man. This is your mom. It's 22:52 Saturday, August 26th.  I'm missing you at this moment.
       You know how I like to gamble? Well, 13 nights ago, I went to Casino San Pablo. I told myself that if I won $100.00, I'd stash it away along with the money I brought to play.  I'd gamble with whatever was left over unless I hit the big one. In that case, I'd buy tickets for the family to come out to you in a few weeks. Right away I won over $200.00.  So I stashed the 100 note away.  I kept going up and down winning probably 200, 6 times. 
       There had been some women, whom I'll refer to as jackals, that bothered me, begging in various ways, getting way too demanding and personal. I reported them and asked for security to escort me out when I "felt" like going.
       The women are part of a gang who pick victims, call in vehicle descriptions to nearby cars and dispatch them to follow the intended victims. I was followed to my salon and a gunman caught me as I was doing garbage duty and talking to Dad on the cell phone. He made a wide sweep around my backside; something told me to face him, so I did. He hit me over the head a few times and my left arm went up.  He launched backwards then flew forward into my right fist which caused him to slip and fall.  On his way down, I screamed into the cell, "Ron he's got a gun.  He's got a gun, Ron!"
       He cussed, ripped my phone out, stomped on it while I made a move away from him.  He lunged again only to get my knee in his neck and sternum. I jumped into the salon pulling the door toward me.  He grabbed it and said, "Oh no you don't."
       With that, I slammed the door and bolted it.  "Oh, yes I do!"
I got to Judith's phone, dialed 911 and as I spoke to the dispatcher, one person was banging and shaking my back door while another was shaking and beating on my glass front door with a metal object.
       There's a lot more to this event, son--a lot.  Bottom line Soldier, two of us lived that day--the gunman and me.
       The irony is that I won $140.00 total and that's what my cell phone, smokes, and coffee cost me.  Digthis.  I won what the casino could never give me--my life.
       So, I guess I won't be making graduation.  I was hoping to be blessed with enough to at least send your Dad to join you.  He's holding up pretty well, but he misses you.  He says, "STFU, NUB."  He is real nervous about Jesse and me, our habits, especially since the "incident."
       Daniel? I'm going to lay it on the line. That wasn't me who raised my arms and knee.  Indulge me.  Usually, while talking with folks, I "feel" the presence of the Lord.  God is all around me and I glow inside with a quiet joy.  But when the gunman approached, I was 100% earth--all instinct.  Inside me there was Peace, almighty Peace. I didn't feel the presence of God outside me for I was too earthy in instinct but the divine was inside me.  That gunman was having the dickens of a time keeping his footing and control of his gun.  It was a silver semiautomatic, by the way.  My moves were the moves of the Divine--total precision. Please remember what I've spoken to you about pertaining to God.
       I have a living faith, son.  God abides in spite of my imperfections and sins and I know I've got a purpose in this, my life.  I'm not nor ever have been traditional in any sense. You've always known that. My faith isn't because of the words of man.  The Holy Spirit is my guide. That's how it's always been with me. Expect me to impress this upon you, one adult to another, mother to son, my spirit to yours. So, enough said for now about that.
       The incident was early Monday morning. Over the following days, several people around the bay area were followed home from the local casinos, beaten and mugged by gunman. Wednesday, a 67-yr-old man was followed home from an Emeryville card room, mugged, shot and killed.
                   Some Remain--Some Depart.  God's time, not ours.
                 While the mercy of man is good, it cannot be counted on.
                              Selah  (or at least think about it)
       In a way, the life of a soldier is good. It isn't plagued by circumstances. Civilian life, at this time, is fraught with some serious testing. I'm not saying that I envy you but you should know that I appreciate your choice.
       I dug your letter and saved it. That makes 2 now and 1 from your commander. Commanders have a set pattern when speaking to civilians. (I'll be sure to commit that pattern to my memory.)
       I wish I could talk to you in person. I do in my spirit. I've got some promising news for you, but I'm going to wait for a few more months to tell you. It's like having a baby; keep quiet for the 1st trimester. Only, this baby is a really fantastic project.
       I also wish we could be a part of your graduation--the graduation also of your peers. It's a moving ceremony, I'm told. My gosh, son; it won't be long now. I hope you get the orders you desire, all of you. There is so much you can do. Each of you bring something to the mission. I'm amazed at the vision you share.

                                      Well, I can go on forever.
                                              Love,
                                               Mom. (chelle stockman)

Letter to My Son in Bootcamp by Chelle Stockman

 

From:  Chelle Stockman  (your mom)

           

To:       PUZ Stockman, Daniel E.

 

 

Saturday, August 5, 2006

 

Hello Son!

 

Your letter to us came via Sergeant Meyers.  We speak of you all the time here at home and at work.  I haven’t heard from Javier since your departure.  He is supposed to enter his boot camp training this month and I hope to hear from him before he leaves.

Your pop is doing OK even though Jess has a friend sleeping over.  You know how he detests “outsiders” in “His” domain.  I prefer a houseful unless I’m trying to sleep which is rare these days—sleep that is.  Anyway, I got to hang out with Don and Jess in our kitchen and family room for a lengthy time.  They actually visited with me and we joked.  Of course I seized the opportunity to lecture them. 

                            Hahahaha-the mom’s privilege.

We spoke of retirement funds and the terms “unrealized income” versus “realized income”.  I showed them how the governments of this world anticipate taxes off our realized income which in turns allows them to project what they should receive even during times of deceptive accounting, which in turn grows them to a disproportionate size over the growth of the people they are supposed to represent, which in turn leaves the people holding the debt stemming from the government’s mismanagement of funds.   I know what you are thinking but dig this.  They actually understood it all.  I told them the unrealized income grows families and societies while the realized income is highly taxed over and again but grows un-kept promises with very little good.  I told them to save 25% of their paychecks.  At 18 they can open SEP IRAs with 15% of their income and the other 10% can grow in mutuals which when built up enough, they can take half of it and invest it in different stocks.  They will amass more wealth when they need it most, when their ability to earn lessens due to their age.  They dug that idea.   I lectured them about brand names how they sap your income and offer no returns.  Though I must admit, Jesse gets good value during his reselling of his shoes.  That bugger is hep to horse-trading aspects of life.  Too bad I’m learning this at such a late age (48).  Better late than never I suppose.   I suggest you and your comrades think about doing the same thing, Son.   Take care of each other in this respect.

Gran is doing Ok though she sure gave Dad hell last week.  I was back and forth 4 times in between clients just to calm her down.  By nightfall she forgot it all and has been joyful ever since.  She sure misses you, Soldier.

And me?  Well, Son, You are my heart.  What can I say except that I’m so proud of you and always have been.You set your goals as a wee child and never ventured off course;- I’ll just forget that you nearly joined the Marines in a moment of confusion.                                 <smile>

 

Thank God for the Army Recruiters.   Sergeant Meyers sure is a good man, probably one of the best of them.  Others are a tad radical, but he is even keeled, like you. Plus he has a good poker face, like you, which means I have to feel out the “essence” to get a good read.  He, like you, is good through and through.  That’s my hit. 

Well, time to go for now.  I have to set-up for the cancer society benefit I’m volunteering for. 

 

Love from your Mom-Chelle Stockman

 

 

Sunday, 8-5-06

 

Greetings my Son!

 

How’s my favorite Soldier doing?  Ya know, last Sunday when you called I was talking by cell to your father, whining that you hadn’t called and that I hadn’t heard your voice.  I was having Dan withdrawals.  I saw your number on my phone and ignored it because I hadn’t recognized it!  I listened to my messages and got all emotional because I had missed your call.  My friends said that my emotional ups n downs would all pass that it is all due to my menopause.   Hmm

So today, past-council and vice mayor, Joanne Schively, took me to see a play in San Francisco.  You’ll never guess what it was titled.  “Menopause-The Musical”!!!

I think the universe is conspiring along side this menopause deal as I become entrenched in the next phase of my life.  <sucks plums>

Side note:  The Raiders and Giants won today!!!  Yahoooo. <smile> 

Back to the play:  I kept checking my cell, which I set to vibrate for your call.  I kind of got emotional and at the end of the play they tried to get the audience up on stage.  I refused to go up because I was afraid of crying and proving their points about hormones.  I just held in my tears.  So afterwards at the restaurant, Donnio, a Wiccan (kind of witch type gal) and some “artistic” friends of mine tried to do a healing on me—in the freakin restaurant!!!.  Can you imagine that???

Well, I sat there all passive as I prayed that either a healing should immediately take hold; or, they would quickly abandon their endeavor to save me from sadness.  Then a thought, a convoluted set of thoughts, entered my mind.  It went like this:

“The Cheese stands alone.  The Moon is like the Cheese because it too, stands alone.  I’m like the Moon.”  Crazy, dontcha think, Son?

Donnio, sensing something was up with me, said, “ Relax and see Daniel strong and content in his choices.”

I turned to her and said, “All I can see is the Cheese.  It stands alone, like the Moon, and I’m like the Moon.”

Donnio’s eyes widened and she said, “Well, that’s a first for me!”  They all cracked up—me too.  It was funny, afterall.  I can just imagine what you are thinking as you read all this.  If you are thinking that my pals and me are a tad “different” (be kind to your momma), have I got a doozie for you, Son.

Friday, Jenny called me because she was on a mission to get a message off to the Supervisors of San Fran, the San Fran Chronicle, and as O’Neall so rudely put it, those fundementalist dykes coming against the rights of men.  He is old-school when it comes to women’s rights.  I was invited but had to go to court with Jesse so I declined.  They were going to do butt-o-grams with slogans on bare butts.  I explained that if people showed their fannies in public, they would permanently be classified as sex-offenders, just like those caught peeing in public places.  I suggested they write their letters and slogans on underwear and call them “legal briefs”.   They dug this idea and so they went to the Mitchell Bros. Theatre to meet up with the exotic female dancers to begin doing posters and painting bottoms or at least the underwear which would cover those sexy bottoms.  What was their message?   Hold on to your cap, Soldier.  Their message was a gift from O’Neall and went like this:

                       “Get your Ducks out of our Quacks.”

Well, he is a cartoonist, Son.  What did you expect?  <smile>

Dad’s having a hissy fit, Son.  He wants me to write a more lady-like letter about the family—one that depicts me as the Christian woman I am.  So, I happen to be one of the nuts in King Solomon’s Garden; that’s who I am.   Hope Dad gets that before we both pass from this world.

I’m proud of you, Soldier.  We all are-family, clients and townspeople.  How you ever came out of my womb so well adjusted confounds the hell out of me.

Just between you and me, I believe your father is suffering the symptoms of my menopause more than I am.  He is simply crazy, pacing around all heavy-footed like a bear.  But you already knew that.  He is over my shoulder at this very moment screaming, “What kind of bullshit is that?”  Oh yeah, he is looking at me with stern eyes as he says, “Tell him, he is a Stockman and he had better do that name proud.”   (???—mad, I’m telling ya—simply bonkers)

We civilians will doour best to take back our rights from those who sully and steal them, Son.  You soldiers just concern yourselves with the mission set forth to you by your commanders.    We are proud of you and we pray we don’t fail you.  Tell your comrades we thank them.  We thank you all for your dedication to a unique cause.  It’s all about bravery, Soldier.  You are all a different kind of brave than the rest of us civilians.

                                                                                    Love from,

                                                                                     Your family,

 by Chelle Stockman