This is the first weekend of the Iowa State Fair, featuring the famous… well, you know.

Terry Frank recently posted this video of Ronald Reagan talking about socialized health care.

The Democratic Party’s platform from 2004 says the following about health care:

We believe not just that a strong America begins at home, but that a strong America begins in the home. And just as government’s first responsibility is the health and safety of its people, parents’ first responsibility is the health and safety of their children. We believe that health care is a right and not a privilege.

Health care is your right, Democrats say. For health care to be a right, it must follow that you can demand that someone else provide you with such care, as well as force other people to pay for it.

But what kind of right is it that obligates other people to provide you with the funds and services necessary to actualize it?

The closest possible example might be the right to a trial by jury, which leads to compulsory jury duty. But even then, it’s for only a short period of time, is required under a narrow set of circumstances, and doesn’t demand that someone’s income or livelihood be co-opted. It’s merely akin to waiting in traffic at a red light — a civic responsibility; without it, society cannot function and chaos reigns.

But health care? How is it that the Left has suddenly determined that we have this as a right? Abortion was the last right they found hidden in the Constitution. What’s going to come next?

Even the Socialist Party doesn’t list health care as a right. They instead list health care as a “human need” in their party platform. Otherwise, the big-S Socialists sound no different than small-s Democrats. Here’s what they have to say:

The Socialist Party stands for a socialized health care system based on universal coverage, salaried doctors and health care workers, and revenues derived from a steeply graduated income tax.

1. We support a national health program with full standard and alternative medical, dental, vision, and mental health coverage for all, publicly funded through progressive taxation and controlled by democratically elected assemblies of health care workers and patients. The National Health Program should extend, and replace, Medicare and Medicaid.

2. We call for a health care system that emphasizes preventive care, respects patients’ privacy, gives special attention to the needs of the physically and mentally disabled, and conducts treatment and research unimpaired by sexism, racism, or homophobia.

3. We call for full funding for AIDS research, prevention, and treatment. We demand full civil rights for people living with AIDS.

4. We call for public ownership and worker and community control of the pharmaceutical industry.

5. We call for educational programs to help prevent drug addiction; for voluntary treatment programs for addicts and alcoholics; and for the availability of free, sterile needles for those still using IV drugs.

6. We call for the reinstatement of funding to community mental health services so that low-cost or no-cost treatment is available on a voluntary basis, with clients’ rights respected. We oppose involuntary incarceration for treatment without due process.

7. We support the right to choose or refuse medical treatment, the right to die, and the right to assisted suicide.

National health care, preventative care, more funding for research, mental health, euthanasia… these are identical to the talking points my Democratic boss promotes day in and day out.

So who’s going to be our Ronald Reagan this time around?

Here’s another good one.

I’m not sure who the man is on the couch. Could be dad or gramp, but I don’t think so. Maybe an uncle or someone from church. Don’t know. But it amuses me that whoever it is was unsuccessful in moving completely out of the frame. It’s these half-efforts that really make holidays and birthdays special.

And nothing says “happy 5th birthday” like a timid, creepy squirrel.

I actually remember when this picture was taken. I was wearing my puffy-paint Pac-Man t-shirt, and Mom had me assemble my plunder for this historic Kodak moment (thanks Mom!).

Since my birthday falls near Easter, first we have the obligatory toy bunny, made of plastic and wire so you could bend and pose, and complete with giant, black clown shoes. But why pink?

What else? Let’s see:

- another card

- a role of Life Savers

- some righteous Pac-Man stickers

- a toy car that is activated by sticking a key into the back and then hitting a button to send it flying

- a new, crisp Washington (worth approximately $500, adjusted for inflation)

- an Atari game, no idea which one. Anyone know?

- a box of markers that smelled like chocolate and different color-appropriate fruit flavors

- a Presto Magix adventure set, possibly Spiderman themed

But the pièce de résistance has to be the plastic hand-grenade.

I have some bad news for my friends in the Ron Paul REVOLUTION and its local affiliate.

Sorry, guys, but it just ain’t happening.

UPDATE: By unpopular demand, my revised and extended remarks on Rep. Paul, adapted from an email I recently sent to a friend: (more…)

Mom found this picture and sent it to me. Not sure what year it is or how old I am, possibly third grade?

I spy a cross/lamp, a large wooden fork with elephants engraved on the handle, some canned green beans sitting on a crochet doily, a bronze swan, a marionette, what might be the largest bible in history (the white thing in the bookshelf), some praying hands, two owls, pictures of the grandkids (I’m second from top).

Gramp’s name was Harry, but everyone called him Hub.

Hub worked for Iowa Power and Light, which is now Midwest Resources. If you look on the top shelf behind him, you can catch a glimpse of a statue of a utility worker climbing a light pole — that’s what he did, at least earlier in his career; in those days, you had to climb up the poles manually.

We used to have these glass and/or ceramic ornaments all around the house, all different shapes and colors, that were actually various electric insulators from his work. I think Mom said that one time he was accidentally jolted with a surge of electricity while he was working, and either fell or was simply hurt. It was around that time that his temperament changed and he started treating the kids differently (they had six children). It wasn’t until much later that he mellowed out quite a bit.

Gramp was the most manly man I knew growing up. He was stoic, yet jovial. He smoked cigarettes and had tattoos on his chest and forearms and a Clark Gable mustache. He was often found doing woodwork in the garage where he had dozens of tools, vice grips, stationary saws and drills. Gram and Gramp worked on various joint projects where he would cut lumber into toys or shapes, and she would paint them — trains, cars, animals, you name it.

He would frequently whistle, make up songs, or speak in sarcastic catch phrases like “women: can’t live with ‘em, can’t live with ‘em.” He loved watching John Wayne movies and other westerns.

When we visited, Mom would prod me to show Gramp my latest electronic or mechanical toy, as he was interested in how things worked. He would bounce me on his knee wildly and sing “Ridin’ on a hump-back mule, mule, ridin’ on a hump-back mule… when he passes by, he winks his rogueish eye, ridin’ on a hump-back mule.”

Then he would say we were “pals and buddies, buddies and pals.” And he would go on about us being buddies and pals, through thick and thin, over the hill and under the hill, pals and buddies, buddies and pals.

One time when I was in kindergarten or first grade, they visited us where we were living at the time, on the outskirts of a little town called Merrill, Wisconsin. I had the honor of leading them through a trail in the woods and showing them a few of my hiding places.

A few years later, my parents divorced, and we eventually moved in with Gram and Gramp (that’s their front door, above). I was in fifth grade, and my bed was in the basement, separated from my brother’s room by a plastic curtain.

One night, Gramp and I were up late. He had been working out in the yard all day, and we stayed up watching T.V. for a bit while everyone else was already asleep. Before too long, we turned in as well, and he gave me a hug and said “goodnight, buddy,” before sending me down to bed.

That was the last time I ever talked to him. And as far as I know, I was the last person he ever spoke to. That night he died of a heart attack, stretched out on the floor in the bathroom upstairs. I think he was in his mid-50’s.

Mom woke me up in the middle of the night, first to tell me he was taken to the hospital, then again to tell me he had died. I cried myself back to sleep.

Due to the overwhelming response to my Butter Cowncil invitation, I’ve decided to open the floodgates to anyone who gives ANY AMOUNT to charity.

But you need to act now, because this offer is available for a limited time only.

More info on the council available here.

Thanks in advance.

I don’t mean to be too critical of LeftWingCracker’s Steve Steffens, who reacted emotionally to the tragedy in Minneapolis earlier this week. Though his proposed remedies may spring from a mix of crass partisanship and simple ignorance, I appreciate his sympathy and his concern that a similar tragedy may be in store for us here in Memphis. He may deny it, but LWC actually touches on some values that many Democrats and Republicans share, including an appreciation for competent governance, a desire to solve the problem of traffic congestion, as well as a hatred of political negligence and corruption.

That said, I don’t know whether to laugh, cry or rip out my hair.

Steffens blames the bridge collapse on the usual whipping boy, President Bush, whose list of dastardly accomplishments also includes: creating a category 5 hurricane, blowing up a levee, causing terrorists to hijack airplanes and/or blowing up two skyscrapers, starting a war to feed his insatiable appetite for Texas tea (goes great with pretzels), and creating a time machine allowing him to travel back to 1997 and force the Senate to reject the Kyoto treaty in a unanimous vote.

I’ll take “rip out my hair” for $100, Alex.

Answer: Elect tax-raising Democrats to both houses of Congress and the White House.

Question: How can we prevent disasters like this from ever happening again?

Correct!

Cracker’s post is reminiscent of the recent Onion headline: “John Edwards Vows To End All Bad Things By 2011.”

Yes, if only we would all vote for Democrats, there would be a rubber chicken in every pothole, the Earth would remain at a constant 72 degree temperature worldwide, and Christopher Reeve would not only walk again but would also come back from the dead, bringing with him rainbows, lollypops, world peace and free universal healthcare. (more…)

Hey Wendi, how about:

A return to abnormalcy

I think that’s something even the “haters” can sign on to.

Bill Hobbs points us to an article that examines “What Harry Potter Can Teach Us About The War Against Islamofacist Terror.”

I thought I would offer my own contribution:

For those who need it: some background info.