The
farmer plowed all morning and, at noon, he drove his tractor back to the
house. He stopped at the hen lot and saw that the rooster was still
hard at work. Starting to feel some real concern, he yelled, "Slow
down! Take a break! You're gonna kill yourself!" The
rooster ignored him.
After
lunch, the farmer went back to work. He finished plowing that evening
and rode his tractor back to the yard. He stopped at the hen lot,
to check on the situation.
There
weren't any hens in sight. They were all in the hen house, from which
contented clucking and cooing noises could be heard. But, the rooster....
The rooster....
The
rooster was out in the middle of the empty hen lot. He was all alone,
laying on his back, his head over sideways, and his tongue hanging out.
His wings were spread out flat on the ground beside him. His little
feet were pathetically curled above him. Overhead, the buzzards were
circling, circling, circling, lower and lower.
Aghast,
the farmer threw open the gate to the hen lot and ran toward the rooster,
screaming, "I told you! I warned you! I told you to take it
easy, to take a break! I warned you that you'd kill yourself!
Why wouldn't you listen? Now look what you've done!"
The
farmer ran up to the rooster and fell to his knees beside it, leaning over
it, hoping for some small sign of life.
The
rooster opened one eye, pointed one of its wingtips up, toward the circling
buzzards, and said, "Shhh!"
The
rooster was specially trained.
Moral:
There isn't one. It's just a funny story.![10x5 Page Background GIF Image](../../Images/10x5_Page_Background.gif)
Letters to the Editor
Dear Sam,
Thank
you, for your Sambeams illuminated through the Frontiersman, as they shine
upon the hypocrisy.
Sam,
in December I sent two (2) books of stamps with a post-it note "Tis the
season." Not looking for recognition, but assurance you received
the stamps, I haven't noted "Acknowledgments."
I'm
concerned they may have been lost in the mail, or worse. I'm thinking
that the small envelopes you enclose may be more vulnerable to being lost
in the postal system, ergo in the future I'll use larger envelopes.
Sam
I'm sorry to read about your illness and the indifference you're facing.
An ironic thought: The California Legislative Analyst Office reports;
California spends $229,000.00 a year for each elderly prisoner in their
chains, numbered in the thousands of souls. Yet, Big Brother can't
find a dollar for you!
Enclosed
are another two books of stamps, in hopes they'll find their way to your
efforts. I remain in admiration and,
Sincerely
yours,
—R. O., a prisoner
I
received the stamps. I don't know why I failed to mention you in
the Acknowledgments paragraph. I apologize. Regarding the little
return envelopes, I'm not aware of one ever being lost.
I
could get medical treatment if I would first submit to the jurisdiction
of the police state. Therein is my objection. The government
is obstructing our access to the necessities of life as a way to control
us. The only way to get the things that we need is to first submit
to the jurisdiction of the police state. Government ID is a tool
of a police state. Its requirement as a prerequisite to medical treatment
converts medical treatment into a tool of the police state.
The
writers of that famous declaration claimed that we have rights to "life,
liberty and the pursuit of happiness" but, if we have to qualify first,
or ask for permission, or pay a fee, then they're not rights. They're
privileges. In the miniseries Amerika, the last president of the
United States said, "Totalitarianism doesn't need armies. It only
needs to control a couple of things. The media, and the ability to
dispense privilege to some and to withhold it from others...." Rights
are converted into privileges as a way to keep us under control.
—editor
Hey Sam,
Here
is some questions and thoughts for your readers to consider. Will
scientists ever be able to build a machine that is better than a cow at
converting grasses, grains, and water into healthy milk and cheeses?
Also if our sun has been burning non-stop for millions of years, then why
hasn't our Sun ever gotten any smaller over the years? Because if
science is to be believed, as the Sun depletes its oxygen and its fuel
source, then it would be getting smaller and smaller, everyone knows that
all fire requires oxygen to burn, and if there is oxygen on the Sun, then
their must be life on the Sun, but where does our Sun get all of its oxygen
and fuel supply to burn continuous non-stop for millions of years without
it depleting its supply?
My
personal theory is that our Sun is actually the eye and heart of an alien
god, who pulsates its heat and love energy down upon the Earth to warm
up our environment to provide us with light, creating a perfect heaven
on Earth.
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