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For some reason, this morning my thoughts drifted back to around 1955, when I lived in the newer section of Buckingham (apartments), in Arlington, Virginia. There, bounded by N. Pershing Drive, Henderson Road, and what is now North Second Street, lay a five-acre oasis of sorts, the home of “Mr. Culpepper” (Charles Washington Culpepper (1886-1980) a renowned horticulturist, it seems).

I was a runt, eight years old, with allergies to just about everything. I couldn’t stand to be around flowers, for instance, but I never experienced any symptoms while wandering, with his permission, through what was to me a jungle of every type of plant and tree imaginable, including a stand of bamboo. There was even a frog pond, fed by a spring. I was the only kid I knew of whom he trusted to wander unaccompanied through his property, because all I did was wander. I never interfered with the frogs or picked anything, as did others later on, which resulted for a time in him posting his land off limits. Mister Culpepper had the biggest hands of any man I’ve ever known.

While I never developed an interest in gardening, I did later on in life find enjoyment in traipsing through the woods, hiking the Appalachian Trail (AT) (not all at once) from Harper’s Ferry to Swift Run Gap, and about half of the Laurel Highlands Hiking Trail in Pennsylvania, as well as numerous “day hikes” on offshoots of the AT, and two traverses of Old Rag Mountain, one on which Mary accompanied me.

I wish I could let his descendants know how fondly I remember Mr. Culpepper and how much his (to me) “Garden of Eden” still evokes pleasant memories, but that trail seems to have grown cold, as I discovered his son passed away over a decade ago.

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This is not meant either to distract or to educate, but if you’re interested…

Genesis 2:10 (NKJV) says, “Now a river went out of Eden to water the garden, and from there it parted and became four riverheads.”  I got wondering just what “went out” means.  Apparently, in the Hebrew it means only “went out,” with no certainty that the “River of God” (as some call it) actually originated in Eden, which has always been my assumption.  If its source is there, that places it somewhere in the area west of Mt. Ararat.

Other theorists think that Eden is not at what was then the source of at least two of these rivers, but at their confluence, in southern Iraq.  In this scenario, one of the four rivers is thought to run where the Red Sea is now.

It seems logical to me to stick with my original assumption that Genesis, in saying “went out” and “from there” and “became,” meant that Eden encompassed the source of the originating river.

What do you think?


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Having just celebrated the birth (incarnation) of Jesus Christ and realizing that, even of those of us who claim to be Christians, only a minority focused on Him, I began to reflect today on the upcoming transition to 2017.

Here is an entire world, waiting upon what it deems to be the push of The Great Cosmic Reset Button, expecting that “things will be different next year,” or “I’m really going to…,” when there is absolutely no logical (or cosmic) reason for that expectation.

So many folks tonight, are looking for the New Year to bring a clean slate, a new beginning, a fresh start. They’re looking in the wrong place, or to be more precise, they’re not looking to the One who has already provided the one and only way to what they seek. They don’t want to hear it, but yielding their lives to God through Jesus Christ, whose birth we just celebrated, is their only path to that clean slate, that new beginning.

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One of the few conservative voices in Hollywood. Worth a read.

James Woods

Twitter is a dangerous place for the faint of heart. Gang thuggery can devastate a delicate sensibility and even damage professional reputations beyond repair. Sarcastic allegations of misbehavior border on defamation and baseless charges of criminal behavior can be defamation per se. Whether such acts can be disputed, ignored or litigated depends on their severity and degree of malicious intent. The civil courts of late are demonstrating their impatience with irresponsible behavior of the most egregious kind. I personally have been victorious in this arena, while others less inclined, or for various reasons unable or unwilling to fight back, have fared less favorably. Anonymity, the foundation Twitter’s business model and appeal, supports the more venal in our midst, as it has supported those cowards who would snipe from dark corners since the advent of the written word. Before the the written word, malicious whisperers claimed their victims in a different…

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A civil servant, on his own time, at home, posts something critical of something in the Liberal catalog of things about which they are offended.  This individual is excoriated, not only by the #LoudLiberals, but by those who were once this individual’s allies and friends.

A Liberal Hollywoodite, Broadway actor, or sports figure, while performing for folks who paid to see him/her, exercises their supposed “right to free speech” and has the temerity to lecture or to castigate the one who paid to see them.  The Liberal is defended for their behavior.

Whether at a sports match or on Broadway, or at a televised awards show, these are not exercising their constitutional right, but bullying – picking on the quiet kid with glasses – just like we deplore when done in grade school.  How does the same act, when punished in grade school, become elevated to laudable status when practiced as supposed adults?  It doesn’t – except in the eyes of other bullies.

Another thing: how can “Hamilton” advertise only for players of color?  Suppose I wanted to put on the musical “Booker T”?  Think I could get away with advertising “Only whites need apply”?

Just wondering how we got here.

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Making Do

Been There...

Let me say something about the current crop of young minds. God help them, because it’s doubtful they are equipped with the tools or temperament to help themselves.
Thousands of college children (certainly not “young adults” by their behavior) are conducting protests, “cry-ins” and group therapy sessions because a person they’ve been TOLD to hate won an election they mostly didn’t bother to vote in. In some cases, these protests have become full-fledged riots, destroying property and injuring innocent folks. We should have expected no other outcome, when every participant gets a trophy, and getting their way takes precedent over healthy competition. They’ve been conditioned to expect never to lose, so they have not learned how to accept a setback and move on with life.
In contrast, I’ll tell you about a different generation. My father was one of fourteen children raised on a farm. At least one other sibling…

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Read it. Feel it.

don of all trades

My coworker walked into my office and I told him, only half jokingly, that if one more person pissed me off this morning, I was probably going to snap.

Some of the recruits had been pushing my buttons with their repeated mistakes and lack of attention to detail.

I was in a foul mood.

“You’re not going to like this then,” he continued.

“The cop shot this morning died.”

Just like it has for eighteen years now, those words hit me like an unexpected punch in the gut.

I knew about the shooting, but assumed or hoped that he would be okay.

Surely he’d recover with time, just like many other people who get shot do.


Another police officer is dead.

A young man with a lot of life ahead of him is dead.

A young father is dead.

A young wife is a widow. She may spend days or weeks…

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