Adolfo Caso Shares Thoughts on Capital Punishment and Guns...Reblog/Expansion - Adolfo adds on Second Amendment

CAPITAL PUNISHMENT

Capital punishment!

the carry‑over

of past social savagery

into our modern

civilized

            society.

"I will not have

any part of it,"

says

            the shopkeeper

while surrounding

himself

            with

G U N S  F O R  S A L E

"If you believe

and want them

,

I will keep an open mind

so long you're

                        twenty‑one"

~~~

Capital Punishment,

A Second Amendment Clarification

The Founding Fathers--they themselves of the people, wanted to be sure that the very people continue to have certain natural or inalienable rights, among them being: 1) the use of certain weapons for self defense and to access food sources from activities such as hunting, and, 2) to create a Militia with appropriate weapons for their soldiers to defend the people at large from internal or external rebellions and invasions.

     The intention was not to grant private citizens the right, to access at will, personal weapons and military-type weapons at the same time.

     By allowing citizens to purchase--legally, attack weapons such as assault rifles, is a misunderstanding and an out-and-out vitiation of the Second Amendment. Worst, it is a blatant and purposeful breach of our Constitution by our legislators pushing agendas for personal gains at the expense of the people at large.

The last several days, we all have been going through a horrible turmoil, related to terrorism. Far too many politicians are placing blame on the gun themselves and not on those who use them to do harm especially to innocent people.

"My heart is very troubled over the continuous killing by terrorists of so many innocent people."

RocknRolla| Lou Reed - The Gun

The man has a gun

he knows how to use it

Nine millimeter Browning

let's see what he can do

He'll point at your mouth

say that he'll blow your brains out

Don't you mess with me

carrying a gun

Carrying a gun

carrying a gun

Don't you mess with me

carrying a gun

Carrying a gun

carrying a gun

Don't mess with me

ooohhh, carrying a gun

Get over there

move slowly

I'll put a hole in your face

if you even breathe a word

Tell the lady to lie down

I want, ah, you to be sure to see this

I wouldn't want you to miss a second

watch your wife

Carrying a gun

shooting with a gun

Dirty animal

Carrying a gun

carrying a gun

Watch you face

carrying a gun

Carrying a gun

carrying a gun

The animal dies with fear in his eyes

with a gun

Don't touch him, don't touch him

stay away from him, he's got a gun

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uFFgnveN0-E

Complementary videos selected by BRH for your consideration

Personally, I don't mind the Second Amendment...but..Without punishment for criminals???

I think many of us have been shocked with continued violence...

Adolfo speaks out further

I find more videos that concern me greatly...

What can we do???!

Did I really read it right? Republicans think everything is alright

while Democrats do sit in???

Something is verrrrrrry wrong...in my opinion...

Joe Helms Provides Thoughts For Your Weekend in The Drift, the Shift and the Gift...

The Drift,  the Shift and the Gift

As you grow up from childhood

You have hopes and dreams that are only good

But as you grow into your teens

In the years that are in between.

From being a child to a growing adult

There can be events that put those dreams on halt

As in my case my first major goal was dashed

Just out of high school my dreams became ash.

Because this was my first experience I gave up

My dream had died as if it was corrupt.

So as a young adult I started to drift

My dreams like sand in my hand began to sift

Job to job, position to position whatever life would throw

Then came a car, marriage, then a child, then a house, 

really in life what did I know?

This happens so subtly, it can loll you to sleep

The drift will happen and your dreams it will reap

You find yourself settling for second best or what is found

And you wake up one day and your dream is not around

I had succumbed in life, what was the use?

And resided the fact that my ways were obtuse

For many years, I reacted and took life as it came

But awareness came and I realized, 

that I was the one to blame,,,

What I am saying it is no myth

With all cost you have to avoid the drift

I understand life happens and sometimes it is bad

But I say hold onto your dreams and you’ll be glad

The ups and downs of life can wear you out

Especially if you don’t understand what life is about?

Like a ship without a sail, life happened to me

Tossed and thrown by circumstances, how could I get free?

Sometimes there are seasons of life that seem out of control

They can steal your dreams and you can wonder if you are whole

What is life about and why am I here?

Great questions to ask yourself, when life seems drear.

Pay check to pay check and day by day the years roll by

Become aware of the drift before you die

Aimlessly going through life, how can one get free?

I want to give you hope, because it happened to me.

It took forty-five years but I finally found out

This thing called life and what it is about.

But how did I escape and break away from the drift?

It was not easy but I made a mental shift.

It took awareness and that is where it can start

When you learn you become, 

the thoughts you constantly hold in your heart.

So choose wisely and guard all of your thought

Because in them your life is wrought

Understanding this you can avoid the drift

It takes practice to experience the shift

So keep your thoughts positive and always on the good

This is a truth that must be understood.

Your thoughts produce after their like kind

Negative to negative and positive to positive, 

keep that in mind

Your mind is likened to the soil and your thoughts are your seed

So think on purpose that which you desire and you’ll be freed

My life was transformed because of the shift

The ability to choose your own thoughts, which is the gift

Life is but the perspective you think upon

This truth is something, one must get a grip on.

No one can make you think thoughts but you

So use this gift wisely and choose this truth to review

It is your thinking that adds meaning to your life

So choose wisely to avoid the strife

Your life is what you think of it and that is true

Honestly my friend there is no one to blame but you.

So change your thoughts and all will become new

The Creator truly has given this gift to you.

By Joe Helms

Copyright 2014

Radine Trees Nehring Presents Portrait to Die For With Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art as Setting

Carrie's shift in the library ended at 2:30 and, since her car was in the Compton Gardens*  parkng lot, she left the museum by the south entrance and hiked along the trail toward Compton Gardens, enjoying the sunny and surprisingly warm February day.

Passing Robert Indiana's huge LOVE sculpture on the Museum's south lawn, she thought of Henry, and wondered what he was doing. Working in his garden, probably. Knowing she often made side trips, he wouldn't worry if she was late returning from she sjift. She could take time to sit for a while in The Way of Color Skyspace* at the side of the main trail. She enjoyed relaxing on a bench
inside the large domed room open to the sky, and at the this time of day it was usually unoccupied and peaceful--a good place for thought and prayer if the weather was warm.
But it wasn't peaceful now. As Carrie approached James Turrell's massive stone, concrete, and stainless steel installation, she heard a male voice, though she couldn't yet hear what was being said. The speaker sounded agitated, but he was obviously trying to keep his voice low. Odd place for an argument, since walkers and joggers used the museum trails all day long.
What now? Forge ahead and interrupt the conversation, which she, as someone enjoying the trail, had every right to do? Or, should she simply leave the area?
The issue was decided for her when the male voice said, very clearly, "You know what to do. Take care of it."
A female voice Carrie recognized answered, "Yes. We need to protect Port View," and Grace Gould rushed out of the structure, heading--thank goodness--not toward Carrie, but in the opposite direction.
Well! What was that all about?
Carrie wondered if the man was the runner from that morning. She hadn't recognized his voice, and didn't want a confrontation, so, she turned and hureried down the art Trail toward her car.

~~~

Portrait to Die For

By Radine Trees Nehring

Has someone switched versions of the twins' portrait in a loan exhibition at Crystal Bridges Museum of American?



Added Just Because I Love the Work of Frank Lloyd Wright!

This is my first reading for Nehring, but I'm certainly glad I found her "to Die for" cozy series. I find I cannot always judge well about what an author might consider a spoiler for their book...For instance, this author chose to indicate on the cover that art work may have been stolen. For me, that turned a cozy mystery into more of a whodunit, which I also enjoy reading! There is a humorous twist to the amateur investigator, in this case, Carrie McCrite, who volunteers at the Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art. Both Carrie and Henry, a former police officer, are retired and they've both gotten involved in earlier cases, which proved to be dangerous. This book begins by Henry laying down the law!

"You've got to stop getting us involved in criminal activities."

Henry's words barely made a dent in her study of jewelry ads in Sunday's New York Times. She tried to picture a woman who could spend thousands to wear this stuff.

"Carrie, please listen."

"I am hearing what you say, dear. Stay away from crimes...

When he spoke again, his voice sounded peculiar, the words too sharp, so she looked up as he said, "I guess I wasn't clear. We must stay away from all people involved in criminal activity, or even in what seems like, as you put it, deep trouble. Think back. Since I met you, you've been shot at more than once, nearly boiled alive at Hot Springs National Park, wounded in a bomb blast..."

Henry went over every time she'd been in danger and the discussion was not friendly but not an angry one with Carrie one time thinking, At least he admits it's by the grace of God that I wasn't killed or even badly hurt. He must understand. He must...

So what is a woman to do? These things just keep falling into her life--it's not as if she goes out and hunts for cases.  Take the incident this morning when a female jogger was being followed and ask Carrie to tell the stranger, if he asked, that she had gone another way than the one she really had taken... Well, naturally Carrie had to help, right?

And was it her fault that, in leaving the Museum later that day she accidentally heard a suspicious conversation between that same woman and another man...she couldn't be sure whether it was a different man from that morning.

"I am sure our director would agree with
 me that it isn't helpful to display our
feature painting in this context. May I
request a change to something more
appropriate and not so well known?"
...Not show the twins? Huh! The woman
is supposed to be brilliant, but I say she
doesn't know what she's talking about
when it comes to our display...
!!!

substituted for "Twins with Daisies"

Anyway, how was she to know that just by going to work, she would see that same woman coming into the Library--and she was a special guest involved with the latest display! She was discussing a painting which the Library staff had chosen to highlight the exhibit at the entrance--"Twins with Daisies." Of course Carrie was right there, caught in the exchange that led to the woman, Grace, telling the staff that she didn't think their selection/idea was a good one!

And was it Carrie's fault that she noticed a clue immediately...

No, she couldn't be faulted...but Henry was adamant that she stay out of what was appearing to have become a mystery to be solved...

Nehring adds a great element of humor as Carrie tries to respond to her husbands wishes...And then to have their son change all that because an old friend of his. Maylynn Brewer, has disappeared and wants to help find her. As they did a little checking, it was discovered that Brewer might have some connection to the mystery of the paintings...

Another character addition, that of a country couple, but friends of Carrie, get involved and begin to learn about art appreciation as part of the mystery solving. The story is definitely character-driven rather than a major mystery, but still, readers will not be totally sure of exactly who and what was happening until closer to the end. I found that the switch to the struggling wife versus struggling amateur detective created quite of bit of enjoyment of the story for me.

I enjoyed the ending given the plot setup among characters that was established upfront...and, yes, there was danger before the ending... You'll enjoy how that all works out...

All in all, a fun, enjoyable setting, and characters that made it triple trouble before it all finished...Highly recommend--and for those interested, there's a touch of "God" involvement that adds to the depth of thought-processes for the amateur investigators... Get your tea or coffee, a few crackers or cookies...and sit down to relax with a good book!


GABixlerReviews
#pictures may not all be correct for setting

My writing career (non-fiction) began when I was old enough to join AARP, and didn't expand into fiction writing for a number of years after that. Yes, a journalism and feature writing career was satisfying, even fun. It was great to see my work in print and know others were reading what I had researched and shared in published articles and a non-fiction book, DEAR EARTH: A Love Letter from Spring Hollow, as well as a broadcast journalist. But then I thought, hmmm, I love reading mysteries, could I write one? Why not try? Well . . . fiction writing turned out to be the most fun of all.

People often ask me where Carrie McCrite and Henry King came from. Truth is, they just "came," like friends newly introduced. I got to know both of them better as I wrote their stories until, now that novel number seven is here, (A FAIR to Die For) I feel very close to both of them. Sure, I live in a make-believe world while I'm writing, but that's true of most, if not all, fiction writers. If I don't feel the emotions my characters are experiencing, how can I expect readers to?

I'm grateful to say my writing has earned recognition and a number of awards because that, along with reader-fans who write me, affirms that I am accomplishing something worth while. Isn't that, after all, our goal in life, no matter what avenue we use to accomplish it? 

I firmly believe those who have been here on earth for a spell have a wealth of observations and ideas to draw on for their writing. And, the longer we live, the more of this wealth we have to share. As for research necessary to write about Carrie and Henry's adventures? Well, who could ask for more fun? Friendships made with "research assistants" at each location are a huge plus that I hadn't expected at start-up. Friendships with readers, met in person and on the Internet, are another valued plus. 

My second career as a writer has turned out to be "To Die For!" (Used in the positive sense, of course) and it's something everyone can enjoy along with me as they read my novels. So, welcome to the adventure!

Mixed Feelings About Cave Kiddos and A Sunny Day

When I first saw this book, I figured it would be something like stories that help children learn basics...such as The Ten Little Indians teaches counting... The blurb reflected no special statement about its audience, if that was indeed intended. It was only after I read a review on Amazon which had given a low rating that I learned that the book "might" be for learning disabled children... Logically, my next thought was about whether this should be specifically shared before you buy the book? There are pros and cons, I am sure;  but I tend to go toward letting the potential buyer know in advance. You know...something like, Cave Kiddos-Helping Delayed Speakers...

The book is centered on a group of cave kids who would, at that time, be learning or creating a language. In this case, they are discovering water and that you drink it. One child cries Waaa! - whether he just cried out or whether it was what it had been called before,  we do not know...

The first page says Remember to talk and act like a Cave Kiddo showing a club...

Ok, if a child has a learning disability, then responding to that statement will require an adult to teach them how to act like a cave kiddo... If the child would already know that...then the rest of the book, in my opinion, is too elementary--there is only one word that is taught in the book...

I think the father and author Eric Jay Cash has a strong and wonderful desire to create something special for the speech and development learning of children. And the effort in putting together this book is obvious. There certainly would be a need for books that are attractive and will draw the attention of children. However, without experience other than my own, I am aware that most children are so different in this wide spectrum of challenges that it would be impossible to provide the needs for more than one or two specific children.

It seems to me using books that are routinely available, could be selected with the importance placed on the illustrations, and that the child should be challenged and guided through the use of those books, with help as needed.

This book would be delightful for picture oriented children of any age, but mainly in very early ages. I must say that this review is mainly my own personal opinion. The book itself does not help readers, in making a decision as to its usability for children of early ages, without making assumptions as to its intent and for which child it would benefit. I think that is a problem.

In the end, I do come back to my original thought, I do not recommend the book. Now I will add if it is being considered for a challenged child,  except as chosen for a specific child, as decided by the parent or relative.


GABixlerReviews

Suspenseful Stillwell: A Haunting on Long Island by Michael Phillip Cash

At last alone in his bed, Paul hugged Allison's pillow close. Breathing in her light scent that lingered on the fabric, he didn't want her to go either. His eyelids were heavy, but his thoughts were too active to rest. The bed felt vast, an oasis of loneliness, the house silent, still as death. The air was still heavy. A loud boom rocked the air, reverberating throughout the house and shaking the walls...
He walked through the long dark corridor. There was a strange mist that dampened his shirt so that it clung to his body. It was cold and his skin pebbled. He heard noise, a strange growling, that got louder as he walked through the narrow passageway downstairs, his back hugging the wall. He peered into the living room. The light had a strange glow that pulsed with a life of its own. He heard laughter, recognizing it at once to be Allison. He started to run toward the sound, but each time he felt he was close by, the sound came from a different room. He caught a glimpse of something in the living room, a shadow, hairy and foul, its wickedness a palatable thing. Allison hovered before him, her hair restored, blonde locks floating behind her, her cheek dimpled. Alabaster arms reached out to him; her lips moved, but he could not hear her voice. He ran recklessly toward her, his feet slipping, moving but getting nowhere. He was stuck. He gripped the carpet and tried to propel himself but couldn't gain any ground. He rolled toward a chair and crashed into it, taking it down along with a beautiful Waterford lamp. As the crystal shattered it broke into tiny shards of glittering glass. He got onto all fours, and mustering all his strength he leaped far, flying toward her. He realized out of the corner of is eye, something was catapulting toward him, a greasy ball of matted fur, huge and catlike. It collided with him. Powerful arms grabbed him, but his sweat drenched body slid painfully out of its vise-like embrace. The impact sent him crashing onto the living room floor. Allison floated away; her face turned toward him in a mute appear, the musty odor of something evil creating a wall of interference.
He came awake with a start, his heart beating wildly, sweat soaking his body. He got out of bed and ran to the hallway. The night was silent and all the kids were asleep. He rushed downstairs to see the living room. There was no sign of any struggle. The lamp was lit and whole; no glass carpeted the floor. No Allison. No freakishly big apish thing trying to rip him to shreds. He shook his head and went back upstairs. Acid bathed the back of his throat.
Reaching for the water by his bedside, he groaned at the pain, clasping his hand to his rib cage. His fingers came away red with blood. Three long tracks scored his skin. It looked as if a bear's claw had grazed the smooth skin of his side.
Shaken, he stumbled to the bathroom and examined his side. On closer look, it wasn't bad or really even that painful. It was just there. Paul stared at his white face trembling with fear, for his wife, his children, and himself.

~~~

Stillwell:

A Haunting on Long Island

By Michael Phillip Cash

No matter what this author writes, you can be fairly certain that it will be unique, providing a storyline that will remain to be elusive to readers. And when it gets into the paranormal, you can expect to be scared, totally unsure what is actually happening. I was going along enjoying the suspense--but, have to say, the ending totally caught me in surprise... Don't you love when that happens!

Paul Russo is a very sympathetic main character. His wife died after a long bout from a brain tumor, but even as she was facing her last hours, Paul didn't want to let her go. They had known each other almost their entire lives, meeting and becoming close while still in diapers. There was never any question, except when Paul left for college and suggested that they should date others. Clearly that was not what Allison wanted and so their relationship had led to marriage--a happy marriage with three beautiful children. Allison was still very young when she was diagnosed and the entire family suffered along with her pain and suffering...

Paul's sister had taken the children during the funeral arrangements and for some time afterward. Now they were coming home; Paul was not ready...

"That's not dirt," Molly whispered.
"Look at the wishing well. That's not
direct," Her shocked eyes looked at him.
He peered closer to the picture. A white
haze surrounded the well. "Spooky"
was the word that came to mind. It was
thicker at the bottom and wispy toward
the top. It had the image of a person,
but a skeptic would have thought it
was a smudge on the lens. From the
group of pictures that were taken of the
facade, one had a caption put there
by the photographer, next to the
bedroom window: "I thought you said
the house was empty." It was written
underscored with lines.
"Oh my God, Paul, look at that window."
Molly pointed to the last bedroom,
the one overlooking the well.
He held his breath. No, no, no. It couldn't
be, he thought but he turned to Molly
and said, "Don't say it, just don't say it."
"But it's Allison," Molly whispered into
the shocked silence.
!!!

Jesse had been the first child that exhibited problems in being back...he confessed he'd smell his mother's perfume and he would miss her so much... Then he share his dream with his father. Once he'd shared it, though, he started to do better. His twin sister was more mature and was quick to help get things back to some semblance of normal... While his youngest was quite sure and open in sharing that their mother was still there...

"Dad," Sella touched his unshaven cheek with her grubby hands. "Mommy is here. I know it. Just ask her what to do and she'll tell you. You have to listen."

Afterward she'd shared that, he muttered, "If it was only that easy..."

Paul was a well-known real estate agent and his company had been willing to have him off until he was ready to come back, but he learned a relative had been given his parking space and he figured he'd better get back there...So, in the midst of getting the kids back to school, trying to prepare some decent meals for them and help them deal with their own sorrow, Paul didn't have much time... But the dreams didn't go away. The same one in various versions, but always the monster prevented him from saving Alison...

The bedroom. The master bedroom. It was the
crime scene; he had read the report on his
computer. He saw the dusty outline of the grand
furniture and wondered how well they were able
to clean it. He rubbed a small circle in the glass,
pressed his eye, and blinked.
"Oh my God!" Bile rose to burn his throat when
he saw the carnage inside. Guts and gore
splattered the room. Streaks of blood and holes
from the shotgun pellets peppered the white
walls. Bits of brain and decaying flesh
decomposed on the floor... He wondered if
Melissa knew it hadn't been cleaned yet.
!!!

Getting back to work did produce one salvation, a major house was to be sold and they had saved it for him. It was a very old home that was reputed to be haunted. The house had been named Stillwell  after the large well that still stood on the property and was supposed to have been the location of at least one death when the body was later found at the bottom... There was even, it was said, a family demon, which was supposed to guard against evil...??? Paul made his first stop at the house alone to figure out how to do his work. The first thing he saw was that a crime scene had not been cleaned, but then realized that it was a vision. He fell down the stairs and was sure he'd been pushed... The incidents continued until he actually was found in the bottom of the well!

Paul began to do research on the house so he could try to spotlight the value of the property instead of the deaths there. Readers will learn along with Paul, about the Loyalists--Supporters of the British and the happenings prior to the Revolutionary War... But the dominant issue was the murder of Hannah Andrews at Stillwell... and then finding her lover at the bottom of the well...

And, yes, the house was haunted, the ghost seen by more than just Paul! But why did the female ghost, whose name was Hannah Andrews, resemble Allison?!? 

Cash writes novels that move at a steady pace...taking readers just as far as the next action that is happening within the story. Be prepared for ghosts routinely part of the story--are they nightmares or actually happening, especially since Paul seems to be injured each time in some way...

I loved the ending--totally surprising--totally satisfying-- A wonderful conclusion for a family who had been greatly damaged by the loss of their wife and mother...Highly recommended...


GABixlerReviews

Michael Phillip Cash is an award-winning novelist and screenwriter. His novels are best-sellers on Amazon under their genres - Young Adult, Thriller, Suspense, Ghost, Action Adventure, Fantasy, Paranormal Romance and Horror. 

Michael writes full-time and lives on the North Shore of Long Island with his wonderful wife and screaming children. You can follow him @michaelpcash.

Connect with Michael on:
Facebook: facebook.com/michaelphillipcash
Twitter: twitter.com/michaelpcash
Web: www.michaelphillipcash.com
Email: michaelphillipcash@gmail.com