Don't expect to hear about it in the mainstream media

Television Networks Fade To Black As The U.S. Surge Succeeds In Iraq

Eleven months ago, when President Bush decided to send an additional 30,000 U.S. troops to Iraq in an effort to win the war, correspondents for the big broadcast networks were openly hostile.

On NBC, anchor emeritus Tom Brokaw scoffed that sending more troops would "seem to most people . . . like a folly," while White House reporter David Gregory touted the charge of unnamed critics that "the President's resolve has become stubbornness."

Over on CBS, Baghdad correspondent Lara Logan chastised that the last time troop levels were increased "it made absolutely no difference. In fact, security here in Baghdad got even worse." The day after Mr. Bush unveiled his "surge" strategy, Katie Couric argued that "selling the American public on it could be a mission impossible."

Her Evening News highlighted the reaction of GOP Senator Chuck Hagel, a media favorite: "I think this speech, given last night by this President, represents the most dangerous foreign policy blunder in this country since Vietnam."

So now that the president's surge strategy has demonstrably paid off in lower casualty rates for our troops and improved security for Iraq citizens, where are the network stories documenting this achievement?

A new Media Research Center study of the ABC, CBS and NBC evening newscasts finds that as the news from Iraq has steadily improved, the war has practically disappeared from TV screens.

Golly, I'm shocked to hear that! It's almost like they were on the terrorists' side. Either that or they just haven't been able to spot any news lately from the hotel bar in Baghdad.

Today's Hoot: Islamic terrorist laughs with the BBC!

Captain Ed provides our daily dose of amusement in Paintballing With The Stars Of The Jihad:

The BBC paid for a paintball trip that included men now accused of training Islamic extremists for terrorism. The British television network included the activity in its "Don't Panic, I'm Islamic" reality series that poked fun at Western Islamophobia. In this case, however, the "joke" is on the Beeb.

Wacky Islamic terrorist fun fer sure! The head fun lover was one Mohammed Hamid who referred to himself as Osama bin London. Even better,

After the bombing, the BBC didn't bother to go to the police with the information, even after Hamid confirmed his association with the two perpetrators. This decision got made at the highest levels of the BBC. The network management decided to withhold information from a national-security investigation because, and I quote, "“I got the sense that he was already talking to the police." One of the biggest news organizations in the world couldn't just ask whether Hamid had gone to the police, or advise him to do so? "I don’t think it’s my obligation to tell another adult that he should go to the police.”

No word on which planet the BBC executives beamed down from and as usual the joke is on us.

Fun with Mary Landrieu

Mary Landrieu is probably not the biggest idiot in the Senate or the sleaziest, but she ranks right up there on both lists, so it's a pleasure to see the Republicans linking her up with Her Heinous, Hillary Clinton.

Don't go away mad, Hugo! Just go away.

The left's favorite loonie Hugo Chavez finally met up with an election he couldn't steal which likely means the real margin was 70 to 30 against. Of course it's not over yet - he may still take a page from the Democrat playbook and keep recounting the ballots until he wins.

Some thoughts on Thanksgiving

This came via email, but it's from the Rev. Charles Swindoll's 2007 Thanksgiving devotional:

THANKSGIVING
by Charles R. Swindoll

My love affair with Thanksgiving takes me all the way back to my boyhood days. I had just turned 10 years of age and was in fifth grade at Southmayd Elementary School in East Houston. As I recall, I was still going barefoot to school--and I combed my hair, maybe three times a week. Girls didn't matter a lot to me when I was 10! It was on a Wednesday, the day before our Thanksgiving holidays began.

The year was 1944. Our nation was at war across the Atlantic into Europe as well as in the Pacific and far beyond. Times were simple back then but they were also rugged. Everything was rationed. Framed stars hung proudly in neighborhood windows--and sometimes they were quietly changed to crosses. Everyone I knew was patriotic to the core. Without television, we relied on "newsreels" that were shown at the movies, bold newspaper headlines, and LIFE magazine, which carried photos and moving stories of courage in battle and deaths at sea. Signs were posted inside most stores and on street corners, all of them with the same four words:

"Uncle Sam Wants YOU"

Draped high across the front of our classroom was a huge American flag with its 48 stars and 13 stripes. We began that Wednesday as we did every other day in school, standing erect beside our desks, repeating the Pledge of Allegiance and then bowing our heads as our teacher led us in prayer. Hanging just below the flag was a large picture of our 32nd president, Franklin Delano Roosevelt. She always remembered to pray for him--and our "soldier boys"; who were serving their country in dark, dreary, and dangerous places a half a world away from my fifth-grade class.

My teacher had lost her husband on the blood-washed shores of Normandy the previous June. After we had saluted the flag, a hush fell across the room as we bowed our heads together. No one moved. As she began to pray and give thanks, her voice broke and she started to weep. I did too. So did Richard Webb, my best buddy. And Wanda Ragland. Even Charles White and Warren Cook, two tough kids who later played high school football when we were all Milby Buffaloes, wiped back their tears. No one moved as she stumbled and sobbed her way through her prayer, which was filled with some of the most moving expressions of gratitude and praise that I have ever heard emerge from a soul plunged in personal grief and pain.

In that epochal moment, time stood still. And I believe it was then--right then--that I fell in love with Thanksgiving. It became, for me, far more than just another holiday; it took on a significance that bordered the sacred.

Lost in sympathy and a 10-year-old-boy's pity for his teacher, I walked home much slower that autumn afternoon. Although only a child, I entertained deep and profound feelings of gratitude for my country, kept free by the bravery and blood of men and women only a few years older than I, most of them fresh out of high school. On that cool afternoon I felt a renewed surge of thankfulness for my mom and dad, my older brother and sister . . . my maternal grandparents . . . my friends . . . for my school . . . my neighborhood . . . my church. Though only a child, I promised God that I would fight to the end to keep this land free from enemies who would take away our liberty and erase America's distinctives and steal the joys of living in this good land.

I have never forgotten that childhood promise. I remembered it at another Thanksgiving, fourteen years later in late November of 1958, when I wore the uniform and silently walked the same beaches of Okinawa where my fellow Marines had sacrificed their lives in the last great battle of the South Pacific in WWII. And as Thanksgiving returns annually, I still pause; I still let the wonder in.

Thanksgiving puts steel in our nerves and causes fresh blood to course through our patriotic veins. It reminds us of our great heritage. It carries us back with humbling nostalgia to those first dreadful winters at places like Plymouth and Jamestown, where less than half of those who first landed survived. But what grand men and women those pioneers became--those who pressed on. Reading their names today is like reading a page out of our national heroes' Hall of Fame. In words taken from Hebrews 11, they were those "of whom the world was not worthy." At this time every year I pause and remember how thankful I am for each one of them. They had the stuff of which greatness is made.

Amen, brother. I particularly liked the line:

I promised God that I would fight to the end to keep this land free from enemies who would take away our liberty and erase America's distinctives and steal the joys of living in this good land.

A little country music for Thanksgving

Have you ever heard of the Hometown Opry in North Wilkesboro, North Carolina? If not, check out this multimedia introduction produced by WRAL in Raleigh. The emphasis is bluegrass but there is also a strong flavor of what I would call vintage country music. There are some videos of performances on YouTube including this one:

Bill Clinton's favorite video game (NSFW)

While looking for something else I found this beauty courtesy of Rightpundits. You are duly warned that it is unsafe for work and most family settings too, but then so is Bill Clinton.

Today's Hoot!

Everyone enjoyed Spain's King Juan Carlos bitch slapping crazed Venezuelan dictator Hugo Chavez, but it has taken on a life of its own in Spain:

The unseemly spat at the recent Ibero-American summit in Chile, which saw Spanish King Juan Carlos ask a gobby Hugo Chávez "Why don't you shut up?", has proved a big hit down at YouTube, as well as spawning a spin-off industry punting t-shirts, mugs and ringtones to impressed Spaniards.
...
Well, it didn't take long for the net wags to get busy, and here's a pleasing example of the kind of thing currently entertaining YouTubers:

Nice tune. In Spain, meanwhile, the locals are falling over themselves to grab ¿Por qué no te callas? merchandise, with t-shirts proving extremely popular. Ringtone companies have been quick to cash in, and have trousered an estimated £1m, according to the Telegraph.

Hugo's secret is that he has a very thin skin, so short of dropping a Hellfire on the lunatic, making him the butt of the joke provokes the most discomfort.

God bless the vets

Via email:

Your alarm goes off; you hit the snooze and sleep for another 10 minutes.
He stays up for days on end.

You take a warm shower to help you wake up.
He goes days or weeks without running water.

You complain of a "headache", and call in sick.
He gets shot at as others are hit, and keeps moving forward.

You put on your anti war/don't support the troops shirt, and go meet up with your friends.
He still fights for your right to wear that shirt.

You make sure you're cell phone is in your pocket.
He clutches the cross hanging on his chain next to his dog tags.

You talk trash about your "buddies" that aren't with you.
He knows he may not see some of his buddies again.

You walk down the beach, staring at all the pretty girls.
He walks the streets, searching for insurgents and terrorists.

You complain about how hot it is.
He wears his heavy gear, not daring to take off his helmet to wipe his brow.

You go out to lunch, and complain because the restaurant got your order wrong.
He doesn't get to eat today.

Your maid makes your bed and washes your clothes.
He wears the same things for weeks, but makes sure his weapons are clean.

You go to the mall and get your hair redone.
He doesn't have time to brush his teeth today.

You're angry because your class ran 5 minutes over.
He's told he will be held over an extra 2 months.

You call your girlfriend and set a date for tonight.
He waits for the mail to see if there is a letter from home.

You hug and kiss your girlfriend, like you do everyday.
He holds his letter close and smells his love's perfume.

You roll your eyes as a baby cries.
He gets a letter with pictures of his new child, and wonders if they'll ever meet.

You criticize your government, and say that war never solves anything.
He sees the innocent tortured and killed by their own people and remembers
why he is fighting.

You hear the jokes about the war, and make fun of men like him.
He hears the gunfire, bombs and screams of the wounded.

You see only what the media wants you to see.
He sees the broken bodies lying around him.

You are asked to go to the store by your parents. You don't.
He does exactly what he is told.

You stay at home and watch TV.
He takes whatever time he is given to call, write home, sleep, and eat.

You crawl into your soft bed, with down pillows, and get comfortable.
He crawls under a tank for shade and a 5 minute nap, only to be woken by
gunfire.

You sit there and judge him, saying the world is probably a worse place
because of men like him. If only there were more men like him!

Only two defining forces have ever offered to die for you, Jesus Christ
and the American G. I. One died for your soul, the other for your freedom!

Bless the veterans and may they always be our firm bulwark against the plots of our enemies, both foreign and domestic.

Watch out, here comes one of Hillary Clinton's favorite drivers!

The good news is that one of Hillary Clinton's favorite drivers is OK after a mishap on the road. Of course, that's the bad news too - Illegal Immigrant released from hospital after I-540 wreck:

An illegal immigrant hospitalized for more than a week following a wreck on Interstate 540 was released from the hospital over the weekend.

Eblin Fabiel Ocampo-Cruz, 22, was taken to the Orange County Jail to face charges in connection with prior violations he allegedly committed in the county.

The North Carolina Highway Patrol charged him with driving while impaired, reckless driving, failure to reduce speed and possession of a revoked license in connection with the Oct. 25 wreck on I-540 between Creedmoor and Six Forks roads. Authorities said he was driving the wrong way when he caused the wreck, and he could still face felony charges in the accident.

The shame of North Carolina is that until some recent changes, you basically only had to be breathing to get a drivers license there. While that was swell for all the "guests in our country," and their pals like Hillary Clinton and Eliott Spitzer, it hasn't been a pleasant ride for the citizens:

ICE agents said Cruz, a native of Honduras, was charged in 2000 with being an alien in the U.S. and was ordered to be deported two years later. Because he didn't leave the country, he has been considered a fugitive, authorities said.

Oh the poor little tyke! He would have only been 16 at the time. Good thing he stayed here to do the jobs that US citizens won't do as his criminal record since he became an adult demonstrates:

At the time of the wreck, Cruz was on probation for several offenses, according to court records.

In February 2006, he was convicted in Durham of DWI. A month later, he was convicted of misdemeanor unauthorized use of a vehicle and misdemeanor breaking and entering. In May 2006, he pleaded guilty to reckless driving and passing an emergency vehicle. Last October, he was charged with resisting an officer, and he was charged with possession of stolen goods in December.

Authorities said they are aware of the federal warrant against Cruz, but they said the local criminal cases take precedence over the deportation order.

Which means that if he gets convicted of the local crimes, the taxpayers get to fund a stay at the big house for ole Eblin before the legal shananigans can begin to kick his skanky butt out of the country. Heck, we just funded a week in the hospital for him so why not? But here's an idea: why doesn't Hillary help the troubled youth out during his legal troubles with a job as chauffeur for herself? Or for Bubba?