Good pro-war flick

Someone gave me a copy of a new movie called "Taps." I really resisted watching it, since I figured it was a girly dance flick, and I never did enjoy that kind of thing - especially ever since I got tricked into watching "You Got Served" thinking it had to do with law enforcement. I should have made the connection with the bugle call ("Taps," get it?) and all that, but hell, I'm an old man. Cut me a break!

But, I went ahead and watched it, and boy was I pleasantly surprised. This movie is about a bunch of red-blooded patriotic kids under the command of a war hero (played by George C. Scott), who gets killed after moronic civilians (is there any other kind?) try to close down the Bunker Hill Military Academy.

Anyway, this kid Tom Hutton plays the ranking student who then takes command.

Tim Cruise plays the real hero of the flick in my book. He's the commander of the "red berets" and goes out in a blaze of glory behind a machine gun. It put a lump in my throat, I'll tell ya. Frankly, he should have been promoted to cadet major. I think there would have been a lot more bloodshed - which would have translated well to the big screen in my opinion. Sean Pen is also one of the officers, though I was stunned to hear that he is currently playing a homo in a newer movie. I guess he went to the "dark side" after he split up with Madronna - but I can't keep up with all the tabloids. Next thing you know, they'll be making a queer cowboy flick, and then we'll know the end is coming soon. If Eastwood turns out to be a fruit, no man is safe. That would not "make my day" if you "catch my drift."

Surprisingly, the movie has a strong pro-military, pro-war moral. And George C. Scott stole the show, especially with this line (which reminds me of every single time I see one of these district or synod bozos in their Ablaze!(tm) golf shirts:


"I know men younger than myself who take their pensions and put on stupid little white shirts with cut off sleeves, alligator on the teat, and spend the rest of their days beating the hell out of a little white ball with an iron club. My God, the thought of it makes me want to puke."

I don't want to spoil the ending, but after some cowardly little pukes run away and desert to the enemy, Hutton and Cruise die at the hands of a bunch of damned professional "weekend warriors" who bust into the campus with tanks and helicopters - all so they can shoot a bunch of honorable teen aged kids defending their school. Typical. But when it comes to the Bunker Hill boys, what dedication to the mission! I know some of them died, but that's what they signed up for. Nothing I like more in a flick than a happy ending!

A few year end questions

The end of the year always gets me wondering about things. So light up a smoke and join me in pondering some of life's greatest mysteries here at the Blessed Reformer.

Why do the Orthodox have names like science fiction characters, like this Silouan the Athonite? I'm not sure if this guy is the robot from a fifties UFO flick or some ape flying a Star Wars ship.

Why did one of the Preuses write a book called "Fire the Staff"? And is this a suggestion for synodical restructuring? If so, I'm all for it.

Why is there a little "o" in ELDoNA? Did Archbishop Keiser have to buy it from Vanna? If so, did he get a clergy discount?

How long does it take Kieschnick to sign his name, and what is the line item in the synodical budget for ink? Are there more curlicues in Jerruh's signature or Chins in the Peking phone book?

Did the Blue Ribbon Task Force raise the prize hog at the county fair?

Did this year's Fort Wayne seminary publications depict more bishops wearing miters or Salvation Navy gals?

What was more rare in this year's Saint Louis seminary publications, tributes to Martin Stephan or guys wearing clerical collars?

Does a case of 'roids count for the Ablaze!(tm) counter?

Are the Somali Pirates some kind of expansion team? And what do they have to do with Issues, Etc.?

Troops, have good new year and don't drink and drive. You might spill your drink, and hooch is a terrible thing to waste.

Don't tell CPH...

...they'll get ideas.

Don't Mess with the Orthos

Holy crap! I thought the "drunken monk" fighting style was only limited to the Buddhist Kung Fu types. The Orthodox might be able to give them a go-round in the octogon. Bully for the Christians!

Check out the video of the Greeks and the Armenians going at it, opening a can of whoop-ass right in the Holy Sepulcher. I like the guy in the chasuble. That's not a fella Herman Otten would want to call a homo for wearing one. I wear them myself, but speaking only for myself, it's rare that I ever throw a punch or a kick while vested (those altar guild meetings can get rough though).

I guess the Orthos didn't sing that old campfire song "and they'll know we're all Christians by our love..." I never liked all that hippy lovey-dovey crap anyway. Nothing says "Christian" like a good square kick to the groin. My disrespect for Robert Schuller faded a bit when he picked a fight with that queer male airline stewardess. Good for Bob! The hell with the "lavender mafia" always telling me to put my tray in its "upright position" (as if those guys know anything about that) when I still have a seven and seven "queued up on the runway" for landing!

Troops, I'm inspired by all this "clerical violence!" I'm going to "call out" my DiP at the next convention. I think it's time to "rumble." With a little training, I may be ready for a circuit-wide "round robin" - especially given the fact that half of my circuit is comprised of "sensitive" spanked-ass pencil-necked kids (who've never so much as taken a belt from their dads) holding Starbuck mugs and sporting you-know-what-eating grins, and the other half are overweight, greasy, sausage-fingered baby boomers just trying to keep their toes from getting cut off due to obesity-related diabetes and attempting to keep the Viagra from interfering with the blood pressure medicine. What a bunch of boobs!

I think I can take my whole circuit in a fisticuffs without too much trouble. Besides, there was that "preliminary match" with the "circus counselor." I'm told his oral surgery was a success - which is great, because the scars on the jaw make great targets for the rematch.

Of course, this video makes me wonder how that kid "Western" Jack Fenton is doing. I know living in Detroit will get your "dukes" up, but is Fenton in the same league with these ortho-bruisers? I don't think he ever had to punch a priest in the LCMS (though "priest" in the LCMS means the laity only). And what happens when Jerruh is called upon for ecumenical discussions with the Ortho-dukes? Nothing personal, but I think my Blanche could kick Jerry's diminutive gluteals - even without the benefits of a hormonal rage or nicotine fit. Maybe we should have elected Roegner instead (but didn't Jerry just throw him under the bus? That must have been something to see). Because what I want to see is Roegner in a Sumo match. I'm sure Masaki can make that happen - as long as you ply him with saki and Norwegian theology books. My sources tell me Masaki has a pretty mean o soto gari, and he is not a man to be messed with.

I say we put Sensei Masaki in the ring with these brawling incense huffers and make a movie: Crouching Theologian, Hidden Pastor. I'll buy the eggrolls.

LSB #388

This kind of stuff makes me want to jump off a mountain. Happy Holidays from the Ablazin' LCMS and the LSD hymnal.

Brawling with the Oldies

This kind of thing happens every time I try to take a little vacation. That's what I get for going bowling in Michigan. They get crazy every year they lose to Iowa State.

What that cutesy-pie video didn't cover is what happened after the match. A few of us stuck around and "had a few" and went after some teenagers who were laughing at us. Needless to say, age, guile, beer, and missed doses of Thorazine beat youth, stupidity, and pierced noses every time. That hardware the kids wear sure make a good target for the cane. Beautiful! I'm getting misty just thinking about it.

And, I gotta tell ya, my Wolverine drinking partner showed me some interesting techniques that a fella can do with a colostomy bag. Man, just the look on the punks' faces made it a worthwhile trip.

Official Board Game of the Missouri Synod

The boys at the district office are always wanting to play this game with me, but I think "board games" such as this are more suited for, say, the Board for Communication Services. Just ask that kid Tom Wilkin from that radio show. In his case, the "bustee" became the "buster."

Aside from "strip battleship" and cigarette smoking contests with the wife, the only game I like to play here at the Home is a drinking game. Whenever I hear the word "Coumadin," I do a shot. Around here with all of these blue haired pill poppers, a hip flask just doesn't cut the mustard. There's more dope here at Blessed Reformer than the kids were smoking at Woodsock.

Every day is a win, especially after a dozen of them start whining about their blood pressure.

Cheers!

A Parable of the Missouri Synod Bureaucracy