Giving Thanks

Of course this last Thursday was Thanksgiving and it was nice to hear some of the radio talk shows reading the proclamation by Abraham Lincoln recognizing this day. It was also sobering to realize that there would be no chance of a similar proclamation being read by any president in this current politically correct day and age.Thanksgiving is a time to consider the formation and heritage of this country.We recall the European immigrants who came here and contributed so much to this once great land.People who entered legally and did not desire to live as separate entities as the mulims and certain others in this country who want the "perks" but despise the host(U.S.A).
I know what I have said in this post and previous ones may seem harsh,but,it's the truth.The reality is that no one for years has been willing to speak honestly on such subjects as the ones that are being addressed on this site. Sadly,Americans have become so "gun-shy" of being perceived as bigoted that they are buying the lies being fed to them by the media.The biggest one being that we are an evil nation founded by bigoted white men. What follows is a poem by Rudyard Kipling,if you don't know of this great writer than shame on you. Think of the influx of illegal aliens and muslims as you read it,it's called The Stranger.

The Stranger within my gate,
He may be true or kind,
But he does not talk my talk --
I cannot feel his mind.
I see the face and the eyes and the mouth,
But not the soul behind.

The men of my own stock
They may do ill or well,
But they tell the lies I am wonted to.
They are used to the lies I tell,
And we do not need interpreters
When we go to buy and sell.

The Stranger within my gates,
He may be evil or good,
But I cannot tell what powers control
What reasons sway his mood;
Nor when the Gods of his far-off land
Shall repossess his blood.

The men of my own stock,
Bitter bad they may be,
But, at least, they hear the things I hear,
And see the things I see;
And whatever I think of them and their likes
They think of the likes of me.

This was my father's belief
And this is also mine:
Let the corn be all one sheaf --
And the grapes be all one vine,
Ere our children's teeth are set on edge
By bitter bread and wine.