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Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Abraham Lincoln's Proclamation Of Thanksgiving ...


According to most historical records, the first American Thanksgiving was celebrated in 1621, to commemorate the bountiful autumn harvest gathered by the Plymouth Colony after an extremely harsh winter ... in that same year, Governor William Bradford proclaimed a day of thanksgiving ... the colonists celebrated this day as a traditional English feast, to which they invited the local Wampanoag Indians ... days of thanksgiving were celebrated throughout the colonies after fall harvests. All thirteen colonies did not, however, observe Thanksgiving at the same time until October 1777. George Washington was the first president to declare the holiday, in 1789 ...

We are all familiar with the Thanksgiving holiday as a time for family, feasts, football and parades. All of these are great American institutions, but we forget too easily the meaning of this national holiday as it was first established by President George Washington on October 3, 1789, and reaffirmed as we know it today by President Abraham Lincoln on October 3, 1863, exactly 74 years later. A mere glance at their Thanksgiving proclamations reminds us of the noblest purposes of government ... moreover, the simplest meaning of Thanksgiving reminds us--contrary to secularist courts and professors--that these presidents were proclaiming a holy day, a day for prayer and recognition of Almighty God's authority over man ... a day for acknowledgment of our many transgressions ... a day of praise and thanksgiving to our Creator for His gracious gifts of mercy, forgiveness and abundance of blessings toward all mankind ... please read carefully President Lincoln's following proclamation, for within this historic text lies the true essence of Thanksgiving ...


Washington, D.C.
October 3, 1863

By the President of the United States of America.

A Proclamation.

The year that is drawing towards it's close, has been filled with the blessings of fruitful fields and healthful skies. To these bounties, which are so constantly enjoyed that we are prone to forget the source from which they come, others have been added, which are of such extraordinary a nature, that they cannot fail to penetrate and soften even the heart which is habitually insensible to the ever watchful providence of Almighty God. In the midst of a civil war of unequaled magnitude and severity, which has sometimes seemed to foreign States to invite and to provoke their aggression, peace has been preserved with all nations, order has been maintained, the laws have been respected and obeyed, and harmony has prevailed everywhere except in the theatre of military conflict; while that theatre has been greatly contracted by the advancing armies and navies of the Union. Needful diversions of wealth and of strength from the fields of peaceful industry to the national defence, have not arrested the plough, the shuttle or ship; the axe has enlarged the borders of our settlements, and the mines, as well of iron and coal as of the precious metals, have yielded even more abunda
ntly than heretofore. Population has steadily increased, notwithstanding the waste that has been made in the camp, the siege and the battle-field; and the country, rejoicing in the consciousness of augmented strength and vigor, is permitted to expect continuance of years with large increase of freedom. No human counsel hath devised nor hath any mortal hand worked out these great things. They are the gracious gifts of the Most High God, who, while dealing with us in anger for our sins, hath nevertheless remembered mercy. It has seemed to me fit and proper that they should be solemnly, reverently and gratefully acknowledged as with one heart and one voice by the whole American People. I do therefore invite my fellow citizens in every part of the United States, and also those who are at sea and those who are sojourning in foriegn lands, to set apart and observe the last Thursday of November next, as a day of Thanksgiving and Praise to our beneficent Father who dwelleth in the Heavens. And I recommend to them that while offering up the ascriptions justly due to Him for such singular deliverances and blessings, they do also, with humble penitence for our national perverseness and disobedience, commend to His tender care all those who have become widows, orphans, mourners or sufferers in the lamentable civil strife in which we are unavoidably engaged, and fervently implore the interposition of the Almighty Hands to heal the wounds of the nation and to restore it as soon as may be consistent with the Divine purposes to the full enjoyment of peace, harmony, tranquillity and Union.

In testimony whereof, I have hereunto set my hand and caused the Seal of the United States to be affixed.

Done at the City of Washington, this Third day of October, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty-three, and of the Independence of the United States the Eighty-eight.

By the President: Abraham Lincoln

William H. Seward,
Secretary of State



The above is the proclamation which set the precedent for America's national day of Thanksgiving. During his administration, President Lincoln issued many orders such as this. For example, on November 28, 1861, he ordered government departments closed for a local day of thanksgiving.

Sarah Josepha Hale, a prominent magazine editor, wrote a letter to Lincoln in 1863, urging him to have the "day of our annual Thanksgiving made a National and fixed Union festival." She wrote, "You may have observed that, for some years past, there has been an increasing interest felt in our land to have the Thanksgiving held on the same day, in all the States; it now needs National recognition and authoritive fixation, only, to become permanently, an American custom and institution." This document sets apart the last Thursday of November "as a day of Thanksgiving and Praise."

According to an April 1, 1864, letter from John Nicolay, one of President Lincoln's secretaries, this document was written by Secretary of State William Seward, and the original was in his handwriting. On October 3, 1863, fellow Cabinet member Gideon Welles recorded in his diary that he complimented Seward on his work. A year later the manuscript was sold to benefit Union troops.


I wholeheartedly agree with the spirit and essence of President Lincoln's proclamation ...



*Proclamation text and other info taken from Abraham Lincoln Online --sja


Thursday, November 20, 2008

End Of Innocence ...

Forty-five years ago to the day, on November 22, 1963, the gusty winds of change were howling at gale force as one of America's most gleaming flames of hope was suddenly and violently doused ... gunshots heard round the world overshadowed the parade-like atmosphere that fateful autumn day at Dealey Plaza, conveying shock and sorrow before the watchful eyes of a horrified nation ... no one then alive can forget where they were when they heard the woeful news that became forever embedded in our national consciousness ... our hero was dead ... our joy was turned to sadness ... our confidence became uncertainty ... our fears became stark reality ... our hearts were forever broken ... it was the end of innocence ... John Fitzgerald Kennedy was killed by an assassin's bullet as his motorcade wound through the streets of Dallas, Texas, he was hardly past his first thousand days in office. Kennedy was the youngest man ever elected President; he was also the youngest to die. Of Irish descent, he was born in Brookline, Massachusetts, on May 29, 1917. Graduating from Harvard in 1940, he entered the Navy. In 1943, when his PT boat was rammed and sunk by a Japanese destroyer, Kennedy, despite grave injuries, led the survivors through perilous waters to safety ... Back from the war, he became a Democratic Congressman from the Boston area, advancing in 1953 to the Senate. He married Jacqueline Bouvier on September 12, 1953. In 1955, while recuperating from back surgery, he wrote Profiles In Courage, which won the Pulitzer Prize in history. In 1956, Kennedy nearly gained the Democratic nomination for Vice President, and four years later was a first-ballot nominee for President. Winning by a narrow margin in the popular vote, Kennedy became the first Roman Catholic President ... Kennedy's Inaugural Address offered this memorable injunction: "Ask not what your country can do for you - ask what you can do for your country." ... as President, he took vigorous action in the cause of equal rights, calling for new civil rights legislation. His vision of America extended to the quality of the national culture and the central role of the arts in a vital society. He wished America to resume it's old mission as the first nation dedicated to the revolution of human rights. With the Alliance for Progress and the Peace Corps, he brought American idealism to the aid of developing nations. Before his untimely death, he laid plans for a massive assault on persisting pockets of privation and poverty ... As with any great leader, John Kennedy also had flaws and failures, his most glaring occurring in April 1961. Known as the Bay of Pigs Invasion, Kennedy permitted a group of armed and trained Cuban exiles to invade their homeland in an attempt to overthrow the regime of Fidel Castro. This event became a disaster and an embarrassment for the young President. Soon thereafter, the Soviet Union renewed it's campaign against West Berlin. However, Kennedy also displayed unfaltering creativity, courage and resolve, and decisively responded to the Soviets by reinforcing the Berlin garrison, and increased American military strength, including new efforts in outer space. Confronted by this reaction, Moscow, after the erection of the Berlin Wall, relaxed it's pressure in central Europe ... President Kennedy's most shining hours came in October 1962. Discovered by air reconnaissance, the Russians were seeking to install nuclear missiles in Cuba just 90 miles from the coast of Florida. Enforced by a naval blockade, Kennedy imposed a quarantine on all offensive weapons bound for Cuba. While the world trembled on the brink of nuclear war, the Soviets, under the direction of Nikita Khrushchev, backed down and agreed to take the missiles away, total global annihilation of all humankind had been averted ... Kennedy then contended that both sides had a vital interest in stopping the proliferation of nuclear weapons and slowing the arms race - a contention which led to the test ban treaty of 1963. The months that followed the Cuban Missile Crisis showed significant progress toward his goal of "a world of law and free choice, banishing the world of war and coercion." His administration saw the beginning of new hope for both equal rights of Americans and the peace of the entire world, but dark days lurked just beyond the horizon ... As long as I shall live, I will remember sitting there as a young boy, watching an old black and white TV, as Walter Cronkite announced that President Kennedy had been shot while in Dallas, Texas, then minutes later, Cronkite, his trusted and familiar voice breaking, would deliver the awful news to the anxious throngs that our dear President was dead ... an entire nation languished in silence and stunned disbelief. How could this have happened? The President of the United States of America, the most powerful nation on earth ... the leader of the free world had been gunned down in broad daylight, in the middle of a public byway, like some animal, and before the gaping eyes of the entire world ... During the ensuing days, as the nation sat in a state of darkness and mourning, and as our slain prince was ultimately carried to his final resting place, many impressions and images were indelibly etched into my young psyche ... images of the President being struck by the assassin's bullets ... his wife Jacqueline climbing onto the trunk of the presidential limousine in an effort to retrieve parts of her husband's skull which were blown away by the gunshot ... her pink dress drenched with his blood ... Lyndon Baines Johnson being quickly sworn in as thirty-sixth President of the United States while standing aboard Air Force One ... Jack Ruby cold-bloodedly shooting Lee Harvey Oswald to death on live national TV as he was being led from the police station to jail ... Then the seemingly endless days involving the pageantry surrounding the fallen President's state funeral, which was patterned after that of Abraham Lincoln ... the entire trip, from Capitol to White House, to St. Matthews Cathedral, to Arlington National Cemetery was six miles. An estimated one million people lined the route. Diplomats and heads of state from around the globe were in attendance, along with Kennedy's family members and close friends, all of whom stood with blank and empty expressions on their haggard faces ... the clopping sound of the horse's hooves striking the hard pavement as they proudly drew the caisson bearing the President's coffin, and the haunting sound of the steady cadence of muffled drum roles that accompanied the cortege were particularly poignant and memorable ... perhaps the most heartrending moment took place on the steps outside St. Matthews Cathedral when Jackie leaned over and whispered to little John-John, who smart and crisp, proudly saluted his father's departing coffin ... the President was finally laid to rest at Arlington National Cemetery, and at the end of the burial service, a soldier handed Jacqueline a lighted taper with which she lit the John F. Kennedy Eternal Flame. The presidential memorial was inspired by the eternal flame at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier at the Arc de Triomphe in Paris, which she and her husband had seen during a visit to France in 1961, and/or took inspiration from "candle in the wind" of Arthurian legend, and the Broadway Play "Camelot." ... Scarce are the words that are yet to be uttered as to this tragic and unspeakable act that graved a deep and painful scar on the furrowed brow of American history ... it matters not whether you agreed with Kennedy's political philosophies or religious beliefs ... it matters not whether you liked the man personally ... John Fitzgerald Kennedy was a human being, he did not deserve to be openly slaughtered in such an inhuman manner ... John and Bobby Kennedy both gave the ultimate sacrifice in service to their country, they deserve the utmost in respect and honor ... I often wonder what great accomplishments and progress that could have potentially been made had they not been prematurely and swiftly robbed of their lives ... what a shame ... please remember John and Robert Kennedy this week, and say a prayer for the remaining Kennedy family ... the end of innocence ... "He didn't even have the satisfaction of being killed for civil rights .... It's--it had to be some silly little Communist." --Jacqueline Kennedy, on hearing that a leftist had been arrested for her husband's murder. *Some biographical information supplied by the U.S National Archives --sja

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

A Christmas Travesty ...

I have endeavored (with a bit of help from Charles Dickens) in this ghostly little tale, to raise the ghost of an idea which shall neither put you out of humour with yourselves ... nor with each other ... nor hopefully with me ... may it haunt your minds delightfully ... "God bless you, merry gentlemen! May nothing you dismay!" ...

Henry Beefeater had grown into an uncharitable and begrudging young fellow, along with being an accomplished thief, despite noble efforts by his parents Lamar & Mamie Beefeater to influence the boy to the contrary ... hence, Henry reckoned that the age-old proverb "better to give than to receive" was meant for every living mortal other than himself ... having therefore settled on that mistaken notion, Henry unabashedly presented his parents with his annual Christmas wish list, with intentions of then making a trip to the mall for the purpose of completing his Christmas "shoplifting" ... Lamar quickly glanced at the large piece of paper, Henry's demands and desires scribbled on both sides, then promptly squeezed it into a tight ball, before tossing it onto the glowing embers of the open hearth ... he then set about to explain to the bewildered nestling how that greed and lack of concern for others had finally caught up with him, and that he was to proceed straightaway to his bedroom, devoid of supper ... Henry, hurt and humiliated by his father's terse reaction, ran up the stairs to his room, slamming the door behind him, then diving headlong onto his squeaky bed ... it wasn't long 'till he began drifting off to sleep, but there were no visions of sugar-plums dancing in his head, just angry thoughts ... and images of dread ...

Henry had barely commenced to snore, when he heard the sounds of what he thought was something fiercely struggling within his room ... then as mucky water splashed all over his favorite patchwork quilt, he bolted upright just in time to see a tremendous creature, it being nearly five feet in length, with glowering red eyes, and a rusty treble hook embedded in it's fat lip ... lying just inside the thing's jutting, lower jaw was what appeared to be a huge wad of waterlogged tobacco ... Lester Doolittle? ... how could it be? ... Henry's pappy had told him stories about those days when he and Lester were the best of childhood friends ... until Lester robbed the general store, and made off with all that tobacco, only to be turned into a slimy sea monster, doomed to swim around out there in some murky lake or ocean, all by his lonesome, for the remainder of his miserable existence ... Henry mustered up a bit of courage then enquired, "Lester? ... Lester Doolittle? ... is that you?" ... the writhing, scurfy figure paused for a moment, spat a nasty gob of black juice right onto Henry's bedspread, then hoarsely replied ... "Yes Henry Beefeater, I am Lester Doolittle ... first but not last, sent from the briny depths to dissuade you from lying and pilfering folks' belongings ... lest your end be of similar fate, hopelessly swimming alongside I as your mate!" ... Henry attempted a meek answer, but mercifully fainted, as the wretched menace suddenly vanished, after warning of Spirits yet to follow upon the clock's midnight knell ... was it a dream or no? ... again Henry sank into the nether throes of fitful sleep ...

Off in the distance, as the pealing bell fell silent ... the curtains on the window cautiously parted, revealing a mysterious, transparent form crawling slowly over the sill and onto the floor ... "Are you the Spirit, sir, whose coming was foretold me?" asked Henry ... "I am," said the voice so soft and gentle, and singularly low ... "Who, and what are you?" demanded Henry ... "I am the Ghost of Christmas Past," it announced ... "Long past?" added Henry ... "No, your past," it said ... as it spoke, it extended it's strong hand, clasped Henry gently by the arm, then hauled him from the bed so effortlessly and light, and down the narrow stairway to where those he foreknew sat looking much younger this night ... the walls and ceiling were arrayed with living green, where bright, gleaming berries glistened amidst crisp leaves of ivy, holly and mistletoe ... a mighty flame roared up the chimney, and out into the chilly air, threatening the stockings hung with great care ... in a corner stood a beautiful spruce, trimmed with sparkling lamps and shiny ornaments of all sorts, heaped beneath it lay piles of gifts, bound together with ribbons and bows ... in the kitchen sat poultry and great joints of meat, mince-pies, plum-puddings, long wreaths of sausages, barrels of oysters, red-hot chestnuts, cherry-cheeked apples, juicy oranges, luscious pears, immense twelfth-cakes and seething bowls of punch, that made the room dim with delicious steam ... on the couch sat Henry's mother and father, glaring proudly at a tiny baby rocking in a cradle at their feet ... "Who's child is that," stammered Henry ... "Why that's you," declared the Ghost, as a dull rap irrupted at the front door ... "My time has come and gone, and so for you," said the Ghost of Christmas Past ... "the Ghost of Christmas Present would now like some time with you" ...

As Henry fearfully opened the heavy door, there stood an immense, albeit jolly Giant, with genial face and sparkling eyes, clothed in a simple robe bordered with snowy-white fur, who with a cheery voice proclaimed, "I am the Ghost of Christmas Present, sent here to remind you of those less fortunate than thee, and of those so desperately in need ... come go with me, and in all take heed" ... suddenly there sat Henry surrounded by gifts, while others had none ... his stomach bursting with food, as others begged for scraps ... resting in a warm house, dressed in the finest of clothes, while multitudes wandered homeless, naked and cold ... countless folks barely surviving in squalor and need, as Henry went about spoiled and ungrateful, his heart rotten with greed ... then near the Spirit's side stood a gaunt-eyed boy and a raggedly-clad girl ... "Who are they?" asked Henry ... "Why they are you, meet Ignorance and Want," said the rotund Ghost ... "Beware them both!" ... Henry could stand to see no more, and insisted the Spirit return him back where he had been before ... with a start, Henry was instantly back in his bed ... had this been a dream or no? ... or some poor, disturbed souls returned from the dead? ... he slept again ...

Yet another Phantom silently crept 'neath the closed, bedchamber door, slowly approaching the foot of Henry's bed, like icy vapour spreading fright and doom ... shrouded in darkness, it's head and face concealed by misty blackness melding with the night, the frightful form rose to an imposing height ... the Spirit spoke not a word, as it lightly tapped Henry on the knee with an invisible, outstretched hand ... Henry bolted upright, as if unexpectedly seared by an icicle and cried, "am I in the presence of the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come?" ... the Spirit answered not with words, just motioned for the terrified lad to follow ... "are you about to show me shadows of things yet to happen, but will happen in time before us?" asked the frightened boy ... the Spectre seemed to so nod ... "then lead on," said Henry ... "the night is rapidly fleeing" ... at once they were walking down a quiet lane, when passing before the window of a modest tenement house, Henry noticed a group of sobbing children gathered round a sparsely-lit tree, sadly there were no gifts beneath, nary a one -- right away Henry realized that it was he that had stolen those dear babe's hopes and dreams ... straightaway he and the Shadow were legging it amid throngs of humanity on a bustling avenue, and there sitting precariously on the curb was an elderly, decrepit man, wearing dirty, threadbare clothes unbefitting of the intemperate weather, and clutched tightly in his bony, shaking hand was a rusty, tin can, with words scrawled down the side which read, "a penny for my thoughts, a nickel for some coffee, a dime for a slice of bread?" -- somehow Henry knew this unfortunate soul was he ... as they continued along the now dimly-lit street, at their side, just beneath a tiny Shoppe's shattered windowpane, lay a corpse draped with a bloody white sheet ... "Who is that?" Henry asked ... the Phantom was yet to speak, as Henry saw a kneeling policeman pull back that sheet, revealing the lifeless heap sprawled before him amongst the fragments of broken glass -- to Henry's shock and dismay, that pathetic pile was he, shot dead by that officer while trying to loot the place ... sickened to the core, Henry went forth at a quicker pace, only to find himself standing in a most solemn and dreadful place ... brisk wind blew swirls of dried leaves all about the listing, timeworn headstones, which marked the final resting place for various and sundry souls ... the lonesome cemetery felt eerily familiar, as the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come led him to the furthest corner, where it pointed out a solitary, unmarked plot ... "and who lies within, sir?" -- but the Ghost had abruptly departed, and Henry knew that within that forgotten tomb rested the bones of none other than Henry Beefeater ... he began to weep uncontrollably, until he thought his entire being would meltdown to nothing other than a lifeless pool of salty tears ...

Henry again heard the rings from the courthouse clock, as he opened his eyes to the gradually, dawning light ... had it been but a nightmare, or no? ... he waited for a few tense moments, but no more Spirits did appear ... he hurriedly got dressed, grabbed all the money hidden under his mattress, then ran downstairs to greet his mother and father, giving them big hugs, along with his sister and brother too! ... he then loudly exclaimed, "Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year to all!" ... "I must hurry to the shopping mall, and purchase gifts for one and all, I've only a day or so afore the Yuletide doth befall" ... as he grabbed his coat and ran out the door ... Henry had the best day of his life ... buying gifts for family and friends ... food, clothing and toys to donate to those in dire need ... dropping cash and coins in every Salvation Army bell ringers' pail, even went out of his way to place a wad of money in an old man's tin can with words which read, "a penny for my thoughts, a nickel for some coffee, a dime for a slice of bread?" ... why ol' Henry had become as thoughtful and generous as that jolly fella named St. Nick ... the Beefeaters were finally granted their greatest wish -- at long last their son Henry had became the man of honour and character they had always hoped for and dreamed of ... Merry Christmas to all, and to all a goodnight! ...

I want to take this opportunity to genuinely wish one and all ... friend and foe alike ... a very "Merry Christmas, and a Happy Holiday Season!" ... I pray that my story has brought you a few moments of enjoyment and laughter, may you have many more ... although written as a provocative parody of Charles Dicken's classic "A Christmas Carol" ... it is fraught with hidden truths relevant to all ...

Above all else, my heart's desire is that all remember the true reason for the season ... "the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us" John 1:14 ... the celebration of the birth of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ ...

--sja

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

My First True Love

They say your first love is always the best. I'm sure this is true no matter your station in life, whether you or 16 or 60, one will always think fondly of their first. My first true love was a 1955 Ford Fairlane Sunliner. Born of Detroit, she was magnificent in my eyes; her sleek lines and two tone paint would make any young man's heart beat faster as she flirted shamelessly. Wide whitewalls and fender skirts gave her a rakish look and her duel exhaust Hunkajunk Fronthad just the right sexy throaty tone to make one want to rev up the RPMs of her 272 cubic inch V8. Yes, she would allow me to cruise the drive-in and the eateries. Yes, I had visions of all of the cute little sock hoppers who would want to be seen in such a fine machine. Yes, I thought I would have the perfect ticket for the submarine races. Perhaps it is true one must experience abuse to appreciate what it means when one is truly loved. HunkaJunk was one of the worst abusers to ever grace the highways. Oh sure, she was a beauty but she was a fair weather friend. Many a rainy night she would leave me stranded, forcing me to walk miles for assistance. She was the devils spawn but that did not prevent me from spending nearly every dime I could earn to satisfy her never ending demand for attention. Tires and brakes were expected expenses but having to shell out for shocks, generators, starters, carburetors, wheel bearings, ring and pinion, convertible top motor, radiator, transmission, ball joints, and tie rod ends to name but a few of her dark secretes she hid so well when I first took possession of her. She truly had a dark and evil soul, always returning just enough pleasure to keep me strung along. Teasing me, taunting me into believing she would give something back instead of always taking. Alas, it seems I was always spending with the idea that so many things could not possibly be wrong with one automobile. The promise of better days was always in sight but never realized. How quickly I learned that having a flashy car was no advantage when you did not have enough money left to buy yourself a 15 cent hamburger much less pay for your date. Always having to work so you would have something to drive to work. No, one needs to give consideration to the fact that girls require attention too but HunkaJunk was a jealous wench. She would always make sure no money was left from a 16 year old's meager earnings to be able to afford a date. While she did not try to strangle the occasional date I was able to muster, she was every bit devious as Christine, the '57 Plymouth Fury depicted by Stephen King in the book by the same name. Hunkajunk BackNo, she was more subtle. Things like having the door fly open when taking a sharp turn and leaking antifreeze on my date's foot from the heater core. Even though HunkaJunk abused my affection and took advantage of my youth, I could not stand to part with her. No, I drove her for three long years, always thinking she was worth it. Finally, she paid me the ultimate insult by catching fire. After all the work, the blood, the sweat and the tears shed trying to coax her into becoming a reliable companion, she committed the ultimate selfish act and became a worthless pile of scrap before my eyes. She gave me no hope of ever recovering my investment or allowing me to enjoy her charms. Yet even today, I remember her with fondness as she did give me moments of elation and shear joy. She also taught me a valuable lesson in life to always look deep beneath the surface before giving my heart away. Like they say, beauty is only skin deep but ugly goes clean through to the bone… or frame…

Friday, November 7, 2008

time to play ball with obama

grand old game and grand old party . . . must now give way to obama ball commentary from journalist jimmy smith everybody knew where george bush stood on baseball. loves the game. but george bush's time has passed. it is now obama time. bloggers might ask: where does obama stand on baseball? a casual fan? a devoted fan? or no fan at all? did a young obama play baseball? does president-elect obama own a baseball glove or bat? much is made of obama shooting baskets on the basketball court. does obama spend any time in the batting cages? can obama catch and throw? have the obama girls been taught to catch and throw? can anybody hit? al gore could not throw a baseball to the plate even when standing in front of the mound. unfit for the presidency. george w bush still throws a strike to the plate. two terms. obama organized communities. george bush organized the texas rangers. was baseball played in those communities? was that baseball being played by the texas rangers? obama has been seen wearing a chicago white sox cap. will obama govern believing in the designated hitter? obama would raise the taxes of all major league baseball players. does that sound like something a baseball fan would do? would somebody do that to uh, chipper? journalist jimmy smith has gathered some photos that reveal barack obama to be a player and a fan. of course, there are bowling pictures, too, but please disregard those in favor of the baseball pictures.