Rev. Paul

The right to petition is guaranteed by the First Amendment to the federal constitution…

In the United States the right to petition is guaranteed by the First Amendment to the federal constitution, which specifically prohibits Congress from abridging “the right of the people…to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.”

Although often overlooked in favor of other more famous freedoms, and sometimes taken for granted,^[1] many other civil liberties are enforceable against the government only by exercising this basic right.^[2] The right to petition is a fundamental in a Constitutional Republic, such as the United States, as a means of protecting public participation in government.^{[1](Wikipedia)}

Way Up North  (and now Tam) brought to our attention (in demure fanfare, as is their tradition) a movement regarding individual States of these United States petitioning for peaceful secession from the same!

I went to the All Petitions/whitehouse.gov website, and was amazed!  First, that such a group of petitions existed and second, that ‘the government’ had allowed such behavior, given their track record on such things!

By my count, there 24 States, including mine, with listed petitions!

Is this treasonous, or simply the right to petition?

Democracies don’t always win. Tyrannies don’t always lose.

My friend Rev. Paul of Way Up North posted a remarkable post entitled Hatred, Intolerance and Obsession.

You should stop reading whatever it is you’re reading, including this blog, go to the link above, and read the post.

Please.

NOW.

I’m not even posting snippets of it to ward you off and keep you here.  Except this:

“HE’S COMING.”

Prepping

Rev. Paul recently commented on a blog post of mine suggesting stocking up on ammunition via cash means was an appropriate thing to do.  This in response to the pending approval by the U.S. Senate of the U.N. Small Arms Treaty, which has content related to signatory countries internal control of small arms.

Kinda a slap in the face of The Bill of Rights and our sovereignty.

And the good Rev. is a clear thinking individual and good friend who normally doesn’t go off ‘half-cocked’ in such matters.  I don’t see him hunkered down up there in the Frozen North, surrounded by out of date mil-surp equipment and Gadsden flags.  He is a man of God and believes in the Rule of Law.

And, even though our courts have held Our Constitution is Supreme over any treaties which we join, there seems to be much consternation and gnashing of teeth over this one.

I remember prepping somewhat for Y2K, but increasing my arm and ammunition supply, and ‘prepping’ with those I loved.  Just in case.

Is this kind of thinking out-of-bounds, or good, even if nothing untoward occurs?  (I did use most of my Y2K ammo subsequently, for practice.  Kinda wish I had it, now)

What do you guys think?

Don and Don

Rev. Paul commented on a previous post, regarding my college classroom hijinks, and about my perennially  sitting in the back of the room.
He’s right.  At the time, in the Administration of Justice classes (largely held in a portable building at the rear of the campus), it was the place to be.  It’s where the experienced cops hung out.  And me, the newbie P.I., security guard, and resident smart-ass..

The two main instructors were Don B. and Don S.  Ex-cops.  I used to compare them to the 60′s NBC news team, Huntley and Brinkley.  Someone once wrote, “Huntley, Brinkley…Huntley, Brinkley…One is Glum, the other Twinkly!“
Well neither was exactly twinkly, but Don B. was serious, studious, almost glum.  Don S. was much funnier.  He’d crack jokes in class, and make fun of Don B., constantly referring to him as ‘DB’, which in police parlance means dead body.  And, between classes, the knowledgeable would retire to Don S.’s office (in the same portable building, a few steps away from the classroom) for a rousing session of really dirty jokes!
Both the guys were Mormon, so, this was both shocking and surprising.
And very funny.
Don B. never attended these sessions, however.
Don B. also had a pronounced mole, just off-center on his rapidly receding hairline.  It gave the bored a prominent focus to keep from falling asleep during dry lectures.
I remember a sealed baggie of marijuana being introduced into class, for us to hide, before a drug-sniffing dog came in for a demonstration of his abilities.  We were instructed by Don B. he did want the bag returned, after class, unmolested.
So, the dog comes in for the search.  The K-9 officer commands, “Find the dope, Nemo!”, and the dog begins his search.  He’s sniffing around Don B., and some fool yells out, “Wrong dope!”
Rev. Paul, I never learned.

(go read Rev. Paul to see about Alaska, guns, and life.)

h/t  Rev. Paul