THE TRUTH ABOUT TRUTH:

All truth passes through three stages.
First, it is ridiculed.
Second, it is violently opposed.
Third, it is accepted as being self-evident.



Saturday, September 25, 2010

HOOK, LINE, AND SINKER

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And then she says to me, "Oh, stop your blubbering. So I'm leaving you for a woman - take it like a man! Besides, there are other fish in the sea."
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So I'm going to the sea to see.
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In this case, the "sea" being the Horse-A-Round merry-go-round bar at Circus-Circus in Las Vegas, Nevada.
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But, your questions, your compliments, your outraged indignation - keep it all a-comin' and I will address your comments upon my return next Wednesday or Thursday. (Unless, of course, I don't return because I've won a million dollars and run off with a cocktail waitress, a Vegas showgirl, or some horse's ass.)
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~ Stephen T. McCarthy
D-FensDogg of the 'Loyal American Underground'
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YE OLDE COMMENT POLICY: All comments, pro and con, are welcome. However, ad hominem attacks and disrespectful epithets will not be tolerated (read: "posted"). After all, this isn’t Amazon.com, so I don’t have to put up with that kind of bovine excrement.
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Friday, September 17, 2010

IS USAP OBAMA REALLY A ROOSKIE TOO?

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You may recall that recently I posted a lighthearted blog bit at my B-List blog ‘Stuffs’ in which I alluded to the Russian spy intrigue that had recently come to light.

But on a more serious note, an article titled “Pixie Dust, Treason, & Spies” by William Jasper appeared in the 8/10/2010 issue of The New American magazine. You can (and should) read the entire piece HERE. But what follows are just some excerpts from the article which are pertinent to a book recommendation I will make at the conclusion:

“We would like to get to the point where there is just so much trust and cooperation between the United States and Russia that nobody would think of turning to intelligence means to find out things that they couldn’t find out in other channels,” said Philip H. Gordon, the Assistant Secretary of State in charge of Russia.

No one should be surprised to learn that Gordon, like Esther Dyson, … is a member of the Council on Foreign Relations (CFR), where breathing the pixie dust of Russian-American political and economic convergence has been mandatory policy for decades.

Unfortunately, we are unlikely to get answers to these and many other important questions since all 10 of the agents were returned to Russia on July 8, less than two weeks after their apprehension. … A twelfth agent, Alexey Karetnikov, a computer code developer for Microsoft, was deported on July 13.

Why the Rush on Deporting the Russians?

Why did the United States government spend years — and undoubtedly millions of dollars — tracking and monitoring a network of Russian deep cover-sleeper agents and then release them after only 11 days in custody?
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None of the apprehended SVR agents was charged with espionage; they pled guilty to the much lesser charge of conspiring to act as an unregistered agent of a foreign country. The cover story that the administration gave for the quick return was that this was a “spy swap,” with our side getting four “defectors” in exchange for returning the 10. The claim seems dubious at best; from available evidence, the swap appears to be a very odd mismatch, with Moscow getting by far the better end of the trade. The four exchangees — Igor Sutyagin, Sergei Skripal, Aleksandr Zaporozhsky, and Gennady Vasilenko — are not Americans, so this is not a reciprocal return of nationals to their respective homelands, as with most trades of the past. Even the liberal-globalist Economist felt constrained to remark editorially that the obvious asymmetry of the trade is “puzzling.”

So, who on Team Obama is responsible for coming up with the “spy swap” that so obviously benefited Moscow and just as obviously harmed the United States? Certainly Secretary Clinton and Assistant Secretary Gordon played central roles. Undoubtedly, another individual calling the shots on this matter for the administration is Michael McFaul, President Obama’s Special Assistant for National Security Affairs and Senior Director of Russian and Eurasian Affairs on the National Security Council.

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This is interesting in that Dr. McFaul appears to be a close associate of — and a Facebook friend of — Anna Dvornikova, president of the American Business Association of Russian-speaking Professionals (AmBAR). And Anna Dvornikova is, among other things, Facebook friends with Anna Chapman, the most famous of the spies that were deported on July 8. The same journos who reduced the serious national security implications of the spy scandal to tabloid-style reports on Anna Chapman — the “sexy spy” and “the Russian hottie” — have failed to show any interest in probing Dr. McFaul’s connections to the spy ring.

Dr. McFaul is a major player in the convergence game, with top connections at the CFR — where he is a member, as well as a regular contributor to the Council’s journal, Foreign Affairs, and a speaker on council programs. For two years in the 1990s, McFaul lived in Russia as a senior associate of the Carnegie Moscow Center, an adjunct of the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, which, like the CFR, has been pushing for world government for much of the past century. Carnegie works closely with the Gorbachev Foundation and other Russian institutions operating at the behest of the KGB/FSB.

Did any of these connections have an influence on the Obama administration’s … curious decision for the hasty expulsion of the spies before they could be properly debriefed and possibly finger others?

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Is Michael McFaul President Obama’s Alger Hiss? One of the most notorious high-level Soviet moles to penetrate our federal government, Hiss was FDR’s top man on Russia. And like McFaul, Hiss was a “highly respected” upper-echelon member of the CFR and a top factotum (president, actually) of the Carnegie Endowment. The same media chorus that for decades doggedly defended Hiss, and attacked those who expressed alarm about Soviet espionage, is today singing the same song, smugly dismissing the current spy scandal as nothing to get worked up about.

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Alright now, I’ll bet my loyal, blue-collar dog against your supercilious, white-collar cat that you haven’t come across THIS quote before:

“Without exception, we operated under directives issued by the White House. We are continuing to be guided by just such directives, the substance of which was to the effect that we should make every effort to so alter life in the United States as to make possible a comfortable merger with the Soviet Union.”

It has been reported that H. Rowan Gaither, the president of the Ford Foundation, made that statement to Norman Dodd at the New York City headquarters of the Ford Foundation in 1953. Dodd was the director of research for the Reece Committee – a Congressional committee investigating the funding and the work of foundations in America.

It is also reported that when Dodd asked Gaither if the American people would be informed of this, Mr. Gaither replied, “We wouldn’t think of doing that, Mr. Dodd.”

A book that I feel every genuine American patriot who is concerned about the direction this country is heading in and who cherishes the Constitutional principles that this country was founded upon should read is ‘FOUNDATIONS: Their Power And Influence’ by Rene A. Wormser.
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In 1958, Wormser, as counsel to the Reece Committee which investigated the Rockefeller, Carnegie and Ford foundations for Congress, published his and the Committee’s findings at the conclusion of their investigation into these multibillion dollar trust funds.

You won’t find the quotes above recorded in his book, but what you will find is definitely going to open your mind to some very dangerous conspiratorial machinations directed against We The People of the United States of America.

This is an important book that you ought to read. I keep my copy of it next to my bed, right alongside a can of Rooskie repellent, a fly swatter, and my birth certificate (yeah, unlike the president, I have one).

~ Stephen T. McCarthy
‘Loyal American Underground’

YE OLDE COMMENT POLICY: All comments, pro and con, are welcome. However, ad hominem attacks and disrespectful epithets will not be tolerated (read: "posted"). After all, this isn’t Amazon.com, so I don’t have to put up with that kind of bovine excrement.
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Tuesday, September 14, 2010

'THE COWARDLY COWBOY SPEAKS BUT ONLY “OWNS” THE F-WORD’ (Or, ‘THE EXISTENTIALIST COWBOY PRACTICES CENSORSHIP!’)

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On July 18, 2010, a loony leftist named Len posted on his blog, ‘The Existentialist Cowboy’, a blog bit titled “More And Murrow: Conspiracies Of Rich Men; Wires And Lights In A Box”. The gist of his post is that Rich Republicans are conspiring against the American people; beware the Rich Republicans. According to Loony Len, the Rich Democrats are OK, they’re trustworthy. (Or at least that’s what he seemed to think when he was arguing with me. His August 26th post seems to indicate that even this Obama-Rama-Lama-Ding-Dong is dissatisfied with his savior’s performance in the White House.)

Well, sometime later, I read Loony Len’s loony blog installment and I posted a comment. Now in the spirit of full disclosure, I’ll tell you that I had attempted to post a comment at ‘The Existentialist Cowboy’ once before – that was back in September of 2009. But Loony Len Hart had the comment moderation system in effect back then, and he refused to post the comments I had submitted to ‘The Existentialist Cowboy’. To read the full story of that episode, see my blog bit titled ‘Sex, Tattoos & Violence R Us - #4’ and scroll down to the subheading Puss In (Cowboy) Boots.
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So, I was surprised to find after submitting a comment to his ‘More and Murrow’ blog bit that Loony Len no longer had the comment moderation on and my comment posted automatically.

I don’t have the precise dates of when I posted and when the Cowardly Cowboy responded to me because he doesn’t have his system set up to record the dates of comments, just the time of day that they were posted (yeah, that’s bright). At any rate, it was probably in late July that I submitted my comment. It’s not my modus operandi to seek and destroy liberals, but certain ones (the loud and obnoxious “anti-McCarthy” ones, to be specific) tick me off enough that sometimes I’ll initiate a personal one-on-one… uhm… “discussion”.

Below are copies of the comment exchanges that took place in late July of this year between myself and Loony Len, the cowardly existentialist cowpoke. I apologize for all the profanity, but it seems the Cowardly Cowboy resorts to the “F-word” when he feels frightened by a serious challenge. Note that when I am quoting something that L.L. wrote, I will put it in red italics, and when L.L. is quoting something that I wrote, I will put it in green italics:

Stephen T. McCarthy to Loony Len:

[Conspiracies are how things get done. If its 'legal', it's a company! If it is illegal and performed by two or more people working for the 'common bad' it's called a conspiracy.]

In the first place, it doesn't have to be "illegal" in order to be a conspiracy. From the Random House Webster's Unabridged Dictionary:

3. a combination of persons for a secret, unlawful, OR evil purpose. "He joined the conspiracy to overthrow the government."

Not all legal conspiracies are "corporations".

Secondly, one hardly needs to seek out FINDLAW and the Cornell University Law library online in order to determine whether or not conspiracies exist. Anyone with even a modicum of knowledge about world history already knows that conspiracies are the rule, not the exception.

But it's almost funny that someone writing about the evil of conspiracies should mention in a positive light a man like Edward R. Murrow, himself being a member of a conspiracy.

Oh, yes, Murrow was a member of the Council on Foreign Relations (CFR), a legal conspiracy founded on the idea that "The Rule Of Law" in America (i.e., The U.S. Constitution) ought to be overturned and/or usurped and replaced with a global government founded upon Socialistic principles. In other words, the very embodiment of the dictionary's example, "He joined the conspiracy to overthrow the government."

In fact, so valuable did the CFR find Mr. Murrow in its slick, underhanded, anti-Constitutional promotion of global government, that the Council even went and named a fellowship award after him. Now THAT'S an honored conspirator!

And lastly, Len, although you do often post the truth on your blog, you are highly selective about the truth you choose to post. The fact of the matter is that you are merely an apologist for the Left Wing of The Great Conspiracy that is determined to wreck the U.S.A. and deliver it into the hands of those who wish to see Marxism and/or Keynesianism on a global scale.

The Great Conspiracy (of which Edward R. Murrow was a member) operates by design from both sides of the political spectrum. The Republicans and the Democrats secretly act in concert, utilizing the Hegelian Dialectic to move us ever Leftward into the Global, Totalitarian New World Order.

When you post hysterical stuff like this...

[The GOP owns every recession/depression it ever presided over. The GOP owns the transfer of American jobs and industry to China. The GOP owns a consistent pattern of anemic growth --if any!]

...you are claiming that only one political party is involved in the conspiracy, and that the other side is in opposition to the goals of the conspiracy. But any reasonably intelligent person realizes that the best, most effective conspiracy is one in which the conspirators "own" both sides of the argument. It's called "controlled opposition", as I'm sure you know.

When you put the spotlight on only one half of the conspiracy (i.e., the GOP), you play right into the hands of the conspirators. Unless, of course, you happen to be consciously using the "divide and conquer" tactic in order to further the aims of the conspiracy. Which, frankly, is EXACTLY what I have suspected about you for as long as I've been aware of your blog.

Len, let's see if you have the confidence and the intellectual honesty to post this comment of mine.

~ D-FensDogg
'Loyal American Underground'

Loony Len to Stephen T. McCarthy:

BTW --I have REAMS OF official STATS that PROVE that the GOP OWNS every recession/depression since 1900.
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Let me make this simple: THE GOP IS INCOMPENTENT and ENDEMICALLY DISHONEST and CROOKED!
5:45 PM

This nonsense didn’t satisfy Loony Len, so he returned an hour or two later and posted a second comment to me.

Loony Len to Stephen T. McCarthy:

[And lastly, Len, although you do often post the truth on your blog, you are highly selective about the truth you choose to post]

That's called editorial discretion. I suggest you call the Washington Post and TELL them what to put in and what to take out of their editorials. Then --FUCK OFF!

I post what I am interested in! That's why I blog -you idiot --and I don't need your permission to do so. FUCK OFF

Likewise, I have not seen a word by Jacob Bronowski about the PRICE of rice in China. SO FUCKIN WHAT?? I suspect that J. Bronowski did not address the issue of rice prices in China because he did not give a shit. Comprende?

Secondly, I've read a sizable chunk of case law re: CONSPIRACIES. More than you! I did not ask nor have I needed your 'feedback' in this area.

I was able to learn what I needed to know in the volumes of established case law that is --in fact --in the public domain.

Now --if you have a legitimate complaint, state it! Otherwise, shut the fuck up! Next time, I will just delete your sorry ass for irrelevance.
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[you are claiming that only one political party is involved in the conspiracy, and that the other side is in opposition to the goals of the conspiracy.]
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That is PRECISELY what I am claiming. Maybe you are NOT as STUPID as I had concluded after all.
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Just so that you will understand my position: THE GOP IS NOT A POLITICAL PARTY --IT IS A CRIME SYNDICATE WITH CHARACTERISTICS OF A KOOKY CULT.

I love a good debate. BUT --you 'AIN'T' it. You are rather a waste of precious time.

FUCK OFF!

Come back when you have SPROUTED a brain stem.
5:57 PM

Stephen T. McCarthy to Loony Len:

Hokey-Smoke and Hoo-Wee! Len, I don’t believe I have ever seen you respond this angrily to a commenter before. And that alone tells me plenty. I really struck a nerve. Man, if that nerve had been a vein of gold instead, I would be retiring from the U.S. work force as of today.

Calm down, Brother, or that apoplectic fit is going to bring on a massive heart attack!

Would you have said all of that in an actual nose-to-nose encouncter with me? I think NOT! And I’m surprised that you responded that way because I wouldn’t have taken YOU for one of those Internet “virtual tough guys”. I thought you were too cerebral for that kind of posturing.

[Next time, I will just delete your sorry ass for irrelevance.]

In truth, I’m a bit surprised that you haven’t already deleted my comment. But I can give you credit for that little anyway.

[Note: The subject of Len’s blog installment was conspiracies against the people. I was pointing out to him that not all conspiracies against the people are of the Republican variety. How was that a case of “irrelevance”? Would Len consider that I was being relevant ONLY if I was agreeing that all political conspiracies are Republican in nature? In other words, is only that which agrees with Len’s viewpoint relevant to the discussion?]
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[you are claiming that only one political party is involved in the conspiracy, and that the other side is in opposition to the goals of the conspiracy.]

[That is PRECISELY what I am claiming. Maybe you are NOT as STUPID as I had concluded after all.]

Ha! So, that IS precisely what you are claiming, is it? And you’re calling ME “stupid”???

[Just so that you will understand my position: THE GOP IS NOT A POLITICAL PARTY --IT IS A CRIME SYNDICATE WITH CHARACTERISTICS OF A KOOKY CULT.]

Well, I certainly agree with that. But I also happen to be aware of the fact that the Democrat Party is nothing more than the other side of that same “Crime Syndicate” coin and that it is just as “kooky cultish”. (Hmmm… Does that make me twice as smart as you?)

Fortunately for We The People, there are some websites and blogs out there that examine The Great “New World Order” Conspiracy from a nonpartisan perspective, and which are justifiably critical of BOTH parties that the conspirators “own” in the political paradigm (and my own blog happens to be only one of them).

Hey, get some rest, Len, and I’ll try not to disrupt your dreamworld again in the future. I think the strain is just too much for ya.

~ D-FensDogg
‘Loyal American Underground’

Postscript: The F-word does not a scholar make.

I had already entertained the idea that I might post this exchange as a blog bit here at ‘Ferret-Faced Fascist Friends’, but when Loony Len did not respond to this last comment and allowed me to have the last word, I figured it would not be exactly fair to post this on my own blog. I figured that if he was willing to let it drop at that point, so was I. I did check back from time to time, to see whether or not the Cowardly Cowboy had returned to sneak in another comment on me, but when a considerable amount of time passed with nothing added, I figured it was over and done with. I decided I would not post this exchange at ‘F-FFF’ nor would I submit any further comments at ‘The Existentialist Cowboy’ blog. That dude just isn’t up to a real debate.

I went on my vacation to "McCarthy Country" (see the blog bits below this one) and upon my return, it occurred to me to recheck Loony Len’s blog, but I thought to myself: Nah. If he hadn’t returned for 4 or 5 weeks, he’s definitely moved on and left that little episode in the past.

But just this morning something told me to take a final look, and to my surprise(!) I found that Loony Len had indeed returned, and what he did was delete BOTH of my comments. But oddly, he left his previous replies to my comments posted on his blog. So there he is arguing with a totally nonexistent enemy. Did this dumbass liberal not realize that some readers might wonder what had happened to the comments from that invisible Stephen T. McCarthy fellow whom the Cowardly Cowboy was repeatedly telling to “fuck off”?

Well, there you go, folks. That’s a perfect example of the sorts of tactics that liberals must resort to in order to give the (phony) appearance that they’ve won an argument! And don’t EVER believe it when a liberal goes on one of their patented anti-censorship tirades. Loony liberals never hesitate to scream against censorship, but in truth they almost always approve of censorship that is advantageous to their cause. When it comes to censorship and liberals, it all depends upon whose ox is getting gored.

There was only one problem with the Cowardly Cowboy’s trick. Loony Len hadn’t considered the possibility that I might have kept copies of our comments for six weeks. Ha! Yeah, I’ve had enough debates with these socialistic fascist creeps to have learned a trick or two of my own.

~ Stephen T. McCarthy
‘Loyal American Underground’

Link:
'THE TOUGHEST COWGIRL FROM TEXAS' (Or, 'THE COWARDLY COWBOY DELETES AGAIN')
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YE OLDE COMMENT POLICY: All comments, pro and con, are welcome. However, ad hominem attacks and disrespectful epithets will not be tolerated (read: "posted"). After all, this isn’t Amazon.com, so I don’t have to put up with that kind of bovine excrement.
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Monday, September 6, 2010

STMcC@McCarthyCountry.Pix [Part 1 Of 4]

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2010’s Summer vacation plan was a bit unusual. More times than not, my brother Nappy and I will arrange to go on vacation together, usually back home to Los Angeles with the hope of getting in some bodysurfing, inevitably to be disappointed by the lack of rideable surf (it must be the fault of global warming or the Bush tax cuts!), or else we’ll go to Reno, home of the penny slots and penny shots.
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But this year, Nappy took a major trip to China and that left me to make my own vacation plan all by my lonesome. There is one place I have wanted to see for years now, and since Nappy didn’t share my interest in it, I figured this was the perfect time to fly solo and do my thang – to get on down with my bad self all by myself!
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Yeah, it’s probably true that Louis “Satchmo” Armstrong was last century’s greatest American, but my favorite American – and the one who was undoubtedly the mentally toughest person this country has ever produced – was Senator Joseph R. McCarthy, the most unjustly vilified person in our history and second only to Jesus Christ on my “Wish I Could Have Met” list.
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MONDAY, AUGUST 30:
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Yes, Brothers and Sisters, the time had come for Stephen T. McCarthy to fly to Wisconsin – “McCarthy Country” – and pay my respects to the great American patriot at the site of his final resting place in Appleton.
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Here’s Ann Coulter, honored to be there:
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So, on Monday, August 30th, I boarded a Delta Airlines plane (because you damn sure know I wasn’t going to fly Southwest Airlines or U.S. Airways out of Phoenix Sky Harbor Airport’s terminal 4!) and I flew to Minneapolis where I caught a connecting flight into tiny Appleton Airport.
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There I rented a car and the adventure began, just me, my thoughts, my little silver cup, and my Brother’s digital camera. I was r-r-r-ready to r-r-r-r-r-rumble!
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“How do I get to the Super 8 Motel on College Avenue?” I asked the young woman at the car rental counter.
“Oh, that’s easy! College Avenue is Appleton’s main street. Just drive out of the parking lot and the first street you come to, you have no choice but to go right, and that will put you on College Avenue.”
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Five minutes later I found myself in the town of Menasha. Cussing.
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But I gotta admit, immediately following that little incident, I somehow got locked into a zone that would have me cruising through the next four days as if the ghost of McCarthy was guiding me. Everything that could go right did go right. In other words, it was like Murphy’s Law in a mirror.
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So, I got to Super 8 Motel.
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And checked into my room,
Only to find Gideon’s Bible:
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Because of such little sleep the night before, I had been dogged all day by an upset stomach, so I mostly stayed in my room that first afternoon and evening, organizing my
shi-- “stuffs”, and looked through a couple of McCarthy-related books I’d brought, planning my attack for the next few days.
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That night, I took a picture of an index card and a rosary, both of which I intended to leave at McCarthy’s gravesite.
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Years earlier, in the book ‘Special Counsel’ by William Rusher, I had encountered this passage on page 251:
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The next evening I walked down to Gawlor’s Funeral Home on Pennsylvania Avenue at 17th, to pay my final respects. Joe McCarthy seemed handsomer in death than he had ever looked in life, but the hairy hand that held a rosary was familiar enough. In the visitor’s book, not far above my own signature, a woman had inscribed beside her name a quiet valedictory: “Well done, thou good and faithful servant.”
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That passage had once nearly moved me to tears for a couple of different reasons. So, back in Phoenix, before I left for Wisconsin, I wrote that same Bible verse on an index card. I also took with me a rosary made of wood from Jerusalem that a friend had given to me quite some time back. Although I have never been Catholic, that rosary hung on my bed post for years. While I was in the process of packing for my trip, my eyes happened to take in that rosary, and then in an instant, the idea burst into my mind that I ought to take it with me and leave it on Joe’s grave.
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Here’s McMe in my room. “What’s that bright light?” you ask. “I have in my hand”…the ghost of McCarthy.
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TUESDAY, AUGUST 31:
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I got a late start but was feeling much better after 9 hours of sleep. I had breakfast at The Blueberry Hill Restaurant.
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I ordered the 2-egg breakfast, scrambled, but asked my waitress if I could pay to add an extra egg to it. She told me, “One gets you two, and two gets you three.”
“Huh?” says I in my sophisticated way.
“When you order one egg, we add a second free of charge; if you order two, we give you three; and three you get four and so on.”
Suddenly not feeling so self-conscious about my crappy math skills, I said, “Oh. OK, I’ll have two eggs and I’ll enjoy three, please.”
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After breakfast, I went to The John Birch Society headquarters, which happened to be only a couple of blocks from my motel, and which only coincidentally (according to one J.B.S. employee) also happens to be located in Senator McCarthy’s hometown.
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There I picked up some items requested by my buddy The Great L.C. (check out his blog “Back In The USSR”), as well as a couple back issues of The New American magazine for myself.
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One of the JBS employees then asked me if I wanted to sit in on a conservative community meeting being held nearby at The Machine Shed restaurant. Hell, why not? I’ve got four days.
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And there I listened to Larry Greenley of the JBS speak for an hour on the dangers of calling a Constitutional Convention (“Con-Con”) in order to rein in our out-of-control Federal government. A few of the local blokes running for Congress were also present. It was heartening to see some Appleton Republicans sitting in on a JBS speaker’s presentation.
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Then I drove behind Lawrence University and strolled around down by the Fox River.
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From there I drove back to downtown Appleton and visited Saint Mary’s Catholic Church where the funeral services were held for the good Senator back in 1957.
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I said a couple of prayers from the first pew on the right, and then I lit the largest candle on the right in McCarthy’s honor. The largest candle because McCarthy was a major patriot, and the candle on the right because McCarthy was “right”, of course.
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The sky had been overcast with lots of dark grey and black clouds and continuous rain was in the forecast. And now, as I left the church, the sky began spitting and then quickly graduated to vomiting. Too nasty to be outdoors, I headed back for Super 8 with my windshield wipers doing more “smearing” than “wiping”. But then I passed the Appleton Cobbler Shop and remembered that for the longest time I’d been meaning to get some holes and eyelets put in the brim of my Stetson cowboy hat so I could attach a much needed wind strap. So, with it now raining cats and dogs, I parked my car and dashed across the train tracks to the shoe shop. I entered drenched, and left my hat with them, being told I could pick it up on Thursday.
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They must have been thinking to themselves: This loony leaves his hat with us as soon as it starts raining cats and dogs? Where do they come from? (Psst: “Airheadzona” is the answer.)
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Although it rained off and on my entire stay in Wisconsin, that was the first and only time I really got caught outside in it. I waited out the rain at a local mall, and then headed down to Saint Mary Cemetary beside the Fox River.
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I only knew that McCarthy’s grave was somewhere toward the back, but I entered the first little driveway, turned left, drove over a beautiful little bridge . . .
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. . . and found the Senator’s final (and well deserved) resting place almost as if I had been led to it - as if it were my own resting place. I was amazed to have found it so easily and to really find myself there at all. Hokey-Smoke! I’m here! I’m finally here in Appleton, Wisconsin, and I’m standing at Joseph McCarthy’s gravesite! Can I believe it? Is this real?
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I took several photos . . .
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. . . and then I drank a toast in honor of my hero. I had brought along my silver cup, which had been a birth gift to me from a friend of my paternal Grandmother – a woman named Althea, whom I have no recollection of ever having met. ["I don't always drink Grand Marnier, but when I do, I prefer it in my silver cup."] I love this silver cup because it reminds me of the similar one Val Kilmer used in his portrayal of Doc Holliday in the movie ‘Tombstone’. And I love the fact that Senator McCarthy held on and didn’t die until May 2nd. It was his final boot in the butt of communists everywhere!
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So, I poured an airline bottle of Jack Daniel’s into my silver cup and drank it in honor of Joseph McCarthy. I downed the whiskey in just two gulps, one to symbolize McC and one to symbolize McMe.
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I also took a picture of the 2007 M. Stanton Evans tome ‘BLACKLISTED BY HISTORY: The Untold Story Of Senator Joe McCarthy And His Fight Against America’s Enemies’, which Ann Coulter has called, “The greatest book since the Bible.” This was hardly the first publication written in support of the Senator. In fact, Stanton’s own father, Medford Evans, had written a good one titled ‘The Assassination Of Joe McCarthy’ thirty-seven years earlier. But it is ‘Blacklisted By History’ which has now and forever vindicated the man and restored his good name for anyone aware of this book’s well researched contents. The McBullshit is over, and although the lying liberals - with lots of help from the lying liberal media - won so many battles, in 2007 they lost the McWar. (Thanks, Joe. And thanks, Mr. Evans. God love ya both. And Medford, too!)
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Joe's parents are also buried in Saint Mary Cemetary, very close by the Senator's resting place:
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Continued below in Part 2.
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YE OLDE COMMENT POLICY: All comments, pro and con, are welcome. However, ad hominem attacks and disrespectful epithets will not be tolerated (read: "posted"). After all, this isn’t Amazon.com, so I don’t have to put up with that kind of bovine excrement.
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STMcC@McCarthyCountry.Pix [Part 2 Of 4]

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WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 1:
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All the weather dudes were calling for rain all day long. Do I really risk a major downpour and drive to Milwaukee today? If I do’d it I get a whippin’ . . . I do’d it.
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Surprisingly, although it looked like cats and dogs were gonna fall all day, it rained very little and even then only when I was already under cover. The ghost of McCarthy had me covered!
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So, I drove down Route 41 to Milwaukee, passing the Miller Brewing Company, and I found Marquette University where Joe had gotten his law degree.
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I knocked around at Marquette for a little while, not long, but long enough to fall in love with this young, dark-haired, brown-eyed woman in the law building. If only I were 30 years younger, why I would . . . say something sappy and embarrass myself.
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Afterwards, I drove into downtown Milwaukee and visited The Pfister Hotel where as a young man, Joe McCarthy had worked as a dishwasher and a pie-baker. The hotel is simply gorgeous.
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[Don'tcha hate it when that dude walks right into your picture?]
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Here’s a photo of the lobby bar:
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And here’s a photo of my glass at the lobby bar with something in it that was made by The Miller Brewing Company, Milwaukee, Wisconsin:
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The Pfister Hotel has an artist-in-residence named Reginald Baylor and I loved Baylor’s work. What he does is duplicate but modernize some of the hotel’s classic Victorian era paintings, often adding into his pictures illustrations of the Pfister’s old vases and furnishings which can be found throughout the hotel and in some of its rooms. Here’s the example I saw near the elevators:
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[The Christian Science Reading Room in downtown Milwaukee.
For a certain friend of mine. You know who you are.]
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I even took a photo of the men’s room in the Pfister’s lobby. Note that the toilet seat is in the UP position, as is proper.
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I would have attended a Milwaukee Brewers baseball game but, unfortunately, the team was on the road, getting beaten up somewhere else. So I headed back up toward Appleton on Route 43 along the coast of Lake Michigan.
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Despite the wet weather, as I was approaching Sheboygan (a name I totally love and which I couldn’t stop saying to myself), I had an insane craving come over me for a milk shake. I decided I would get off the highway and drive into Sheboygan and stop at a Dairy Queen. Well, let me tell ya, that is the longest I ever drove without seeing a Dairy Queen. I drove for miles and miles, dyin’ for a milk shake, and not a Dairy Queen (or any other shake-makin’ place) in sight! I did pass the Sheboygan Sausage Company, but when you’ve got an urge for a shake, sausage - close though it is - just ain’t quite close enough.
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And then finally, just before I drove into Lake Michigan, there it was: DAIRY QUEEN!
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So I went in and looked at the menu and saw something I’d never seen before.
“Marshmallow? Do you really make marshmallow shakes?”
“Yes”, said the Dairy Queen dude.
“Ahh, well I’ll try that!” I replied enthusiastically.
And ya know what? It was good. It’s good to be the king in the Queen. I decided right then and there that a person really hasn’t lived until they’ve had “a marshmallow shake in Sheboygan”.
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And speaking of the place, here’s a photo of the mean streets of Sheboygan:
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Continued below in Part 3.
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YE OLDE COMMENT POLICY: All comments, pro and con, are welcome. However, ad hominem attacks and disrespectful epithets will not be tolerated (read: "posted"). After all, this isn’t Amazon.com, so I don’t have to put up with that kind of bovine excrement.
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STMcC@McCarthyCountry.Pix [Part 3 Of 4]

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THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 2:
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It was still dark and cloudy when I left for Waupaca, the little town where Joe McCarthy first went to work as a lawyer. Driving on roads unfamiliar to me and after I had gone too far to turn back, the sky began spitting again, then it started raining felines and canines and my subpar windshield wipers were of little help. In truth, those wipers may have been making the situation even worse!
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And then suddenly - WHAM! – it’s not raining cats and dogs anymore; it’s raining bobcats and wolves! There’s mist and darkness everywhere and the windshield wipers are nearly useless. I can’t see hardly nuttin’ in front of me, and I’m thinking I ought to pull off the road, except I’m not sure where “off the road” would be exactly and only the small red tail lights of the car way up ahead of me somewhere in the grey give me any clue that I am still “on the road”. I’m pretty sure I’m gonna die within minutes and I’m just thinkin’ about how grateful I am that I was able to have a marshmallow shake in Sheboygan before The Good Lord called me Home. But then as quickly as the rain had become bobcats and wolves, it diminished into kittens and puppies and the next thing I know, I’m walkin’ the streets of Waupaca and takin’ pictures under semi-sunny skies.
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OK, next stop, the little town of Manawa, population -3. This is where a young Joe was once the manager of a small grocery store called Cashway in the late 1920s. I found Manawa (it was right where somebody had left it), and I enquired about Cashway in the convenience store. She’d never heard of it. I enquired about Cashway in the hardware store. They’d never heard of it. But they had a suggestion: “If the barber shop across the street is open, ask him.”
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Well, of course! How dumb am I? Haven’t I seen enough episodes of ‘The Andy Griffith Show’ to know that the communication center of every small town is the barber shop? Wasn’t Floyd Lawson the town historian of Mayberry? If they’ll know anywhere in town, they’ll know in the barber shop!
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So, I walked into the shop – two chairs, no waiting. No one in the shop but Bill the barber. “I was in the hardware store and they sent me to you. They said you were sort of the town historian”, I said to Barber Bill. (Bill was really his name.) So I ask him about Cashway, and although the name doesn’t ring a bell, he proceeds to tell me where every grocery store had ever stood in the history of the town.
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“There used to be one where the car wash is now; the pastry shop across the street was once a grocery store; there used to be one next to the bar; there used to be one that got torn down, and it stood next to where the bowling alley was before it was torn down; there was a grocery store just outside of town but they bulldozed and hauled away the outside of town in the 1960s”.
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And on and on. Bill couldn’t recall the name Cashway, but he spent a full 15 minutes telling me where every grocery store in or around Manawa had ever sold so much as a can of beans.
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I figured it was a hopeless cause and I was about to throw in the towel and thank him for his time and trouble when he suddenly asks me, “Why do you want to find where this grocery store was?”
“You know who Senator Joseph McCarthy was,” I said, not waiting for a reply. “Well, for awhile back in the 1920s, he was the manager of a little grocery store here called Cashway.”
Without so much as half a second of hesitation, Barber Bill immediately points through the window of his shop toward the bakery across the street and he says, “That was at the pastry shop.”
Ha! I laughed out loud. “Well, I’m so glad you decided to ask me why I was asking”, I told Barber Bill. “I guess I should have just said I’m looking for where Joe McCarthy worked instead of saying I’m looking for Cashway.” Lesson learned: be direct.
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So I took photos from outside and inside the pastry shop and I even bought a cookie. I was in such a good mood now, after my funny encounter with Barber Bill and the surprising denouement of that little episode, that for the first and only time during my entire trip, I flipped up the internal switch on my personality and really turned it on. I got the young gal in the pastry shop to laugh as she sold me “the lonely yellow cookie sitting all by itself on the third shelf down”, which I was about to “give a proper home to”. She was about to put the cookie in a bag but I told her, “Oh, he doesn’t need a bag. He’ll be resting comfortably at home within the next minute.”
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I walked to the end of Main Street and photographed the Little Wolf River.
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Then I drove to Grand Chute, which abuts Appleton (where my Super 8 was located) and I took some photos of the “T” intersection of Broadway and McCarthy Road where the young Joe McCarthy grew up. What a coincidence to live on a street with the same name that you have, eh?
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I had pulled my car just off the side of the road, near a ditch, and after taking my pictures, I got back in the car and bent down by the brake pedal, out of the sunlight where it was darker so I could see how the photos came out on the camera’s display screen. I was down there fussing with the camera when suddenly this twenty-something blonde girl appears at my window, concern written on her face. “I saw the way your car was off the road and you were all hunched down, and I thought maybe you were having a problem.”
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It turned out that she works for a diabetic person and my appearance gave all the indications of someone having a medical emergency. Ha! What a total sweetheart. I apologized for wasting her time and thought to myself: If only I were 30 years younger, why I would . . . say something sappy and embarrass myself.
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Some time later, I picked up my Stetson from the Cobbler Shoppe (nice work for just $4.50), and then had a beer at the Old Bavarian Brewing Company where I played “Uneasy Rider” by the Charlie Daniels Band on the jukebox – a tip of the Stetson to the John Birch Society.
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I had eaten almost nothing that entire day, so that night I went to ‘Toros Mexican Restaurant And Sports Bar’.
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I ordered a margarita and the chile rellenos dinner. When the margarita arrived at my table, it was pink. It tasted pretty good . . . but it was pink. Not pale green. This did not bode well for the food that was on its way.
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And furthermore, on one wall was a framed poster of the Women's National Basketball Association star of the Portland Fire, Jackie Stiles. In other words, not only was this probably NOT an authentic Mexican restaurant, but it DEFINITELY WAS NOT an authentic sports bar. More like a Physical Education bar.
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Here’s me yakkin’ to myself:
What in the world are you doing here? You ordered Mexican food in Wisconsin? - in Wisconsin?! Mexican food?! You’re a Los Angeles native and a longtime connoisseur of Mexican food. They just brought you a pink – PINK! – margarita. What do you think these chile rellenos are going to be like? You idiot – IDIOT! That’s it, this is the last time I travel with YOU!
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My Pa had told me once that the best enchiladas he had ever had were served to him one night at a Van de Kamp’s restaurant. Mexican food at Van de Kamp’s? All I can say is that he must have been extremely hungry and that was just the right thing at the right time. /// The best beer I ever had was Henry Weinhard’s pulled from a packed ice chest on Santa Catalina Island circa 1982. Dean and I had gone hiking into the hills, but put the beer on ice just before we left. Many hours later we got back to camp, hot, tired, and sweaty, covered with dust. We pulled the beer out of the ice and inhaled 3 bottles each in less than two minutes. Many, many times I’ve had far better, craft-brewed beer in my life, but none ever went down as well as that Henry Weinhard’s on Catalina Island. I call it “The Van de Kamp’s/Weinhard’s Effect”. It might not truly be the best, but sometimes something is just the perfect thing at just the right moment and you can’t ever beat it again.
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So, the chile rellenos arrived and I found myself thinking: Damn! These are as good as I’ve ever found in Los Angeles or Arizona . . . or Mexico. Alright, what’s going on? Am I on Candid Camera? Is this The Van de Kamp’s/Heny Weinhard’s Effect? At any rate, those chiles were GOOD!
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It has been said that one really judges a Mexican restaurant by its chile rellenos. And the first thing I look at is the egg batter they’re fried in: if the batter is really thick, you will hardly taste the chiles at all. Most of the chain restaurants will bring you a chile relleno with the outside breading three times thicker than is the chile itself. What you’re looking for is a thin but tasty breading with a flavorful green chile inside. At ‘Toros Mexican Restaurant And P.E. Bar’, the chile rellenos were just about perfect. The rice was “eh”, the refried beans were good, but far from the best I’ve ever had, but their chile rellenos match up with El Cholo of L.A., or Antonio’s on Melrose, or any of the best I’ve ever had. Or so it seemed to me after just one visit.
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That evening, I saw my first ever episodes of the reality show ‘Wipeout’ (laughed my head off) and ‘The Office’ (send away for a sense of humor, and pay full price if you must!) and went to bed . . . alone . . . again . . . naturally.
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Continued below in Part 4.
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YE OLDE COMMENT POLICY: All comments, pro and con, are welcome. However, ad hominem attacks and disrespectful epithets will not be tolerated (read: "posted"). After all, this isn’t Amazon.com, so I don’t have to put up with that kind of bovine excrement.
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