Thursday, November 30, 2006

Progressive Thought and the Denial of History

We all want progress, but if you're on the wrong road, progress means doing an about-turn and walking back to the right road; in that case, the man who turns back soonest is the most progressive. --C. S. Lewis

In one respect, history represents constant change and novelty. But in another respect, it involves constant repetition of the same themes. In this regard, it is somewhat analogous to music, where you have a certain rhythm, bass line, and chordal structure, on top of which is the melody. But the melody is constrained by the structure. Often we notice the historical melody to the exclusion of the droning and repetitive bass line.

Primitive societies abhor change, and do everything within their power to prevent, deny, or undo it. Often, when change happens suddenly, these cultures will simply assimilate the novelty into their old system of belief.

However, one far-sighted observation of the psychoanalyst W.R. Bion is that many modern human groups are every bit as primitive. While they might have a veneer of civilization, their more basic function is to structure existence and to allay anxiety. You see this, for example, in very obvious cases such as the NAACP, the ACLU, or the feminist movement.

While these groups once had an instrumental purpose, now their only function is to provide a cognitive template for the world of the people who belong to them, and to reinforce the structure through contact with like-minded people -- people who share the same anxieties. It's not even a pleasant world. Rather, it is a dark, paranoid, and conspiratorial world. And yet, the paranoid world of the far left is preferable to the ambiguity of the real world.

Human beings have an amazing capacity to deny change and to live in the past. Then again, if viewed through the lens of Darwinian evolution, this should not be surprising. After all, evolution did not design us to be happy, or well adjusted, or even to know reality. Rather, in our horizontal aspect, we were specifically selected to survive and adapt to a certain environment.

All successful species are stuck in a rut of adaptation. Humans are no different. The majority of cultural beliefs are not adaptations to external reality but adaptations to internal reality -- they help to alleviate anxiety and uncertainty and to structure existence.

After World War II, anthropologists discovered primitive groups that had been entirely static and had never "entered" history. Their belief systems were entirely structured around various benevolent and malevolent tribal spirits. Upon noticing American soldiers and their boats loaded down with riches that were distributed to the population, they did not alter their basic conception of reality. Rather, they simply incorporated the American G.I.s into a "cargo cult," and gave their old gods a new identity. Time and change were successfully warded off.

On the bottom floor of the primitve group psyche there is an abiding sense that time is not progressive. Rather, time is the enemy. It does not advance, but wears away and corrodes. Things that unexpectedly develop in time, like, say, President Bush, the conservative movement, or the threat of Islamic terrorism, are not exactly denied. Rather, they are regarded as bizarre aberrations -- they are not really real.

For the progressive, their reality has been stolen and a false one has been inserted. I mean this literally, for example, with regard to the ineradicable obsession with the 2000 election. It is not so much that an election was "stolen." Rather, the feeling is that their beautiful reality has been purloined. But this is just a small reflection of the more pervasive sentiment in the dead and dying liberal MSM that reality went off the rails in approximately 1980, with the ascendancy of Reaganism. It is as if they are constantly trying to undo that tragic mistake and force reality back into the little liberal box that once contained it (and them).

In order to deny the corrosive effect of time and change, primitive groups enact rituals to reassert the original divine order. This is why you can see that the left is so astonishingly ritualistic in their thinking. For their philosophy, like any religious philosophy, revolves around certain iconographic symbols that abide outside time. They are "forever." They need only be evoked, like magical incantations, and we are back in the comfortable tribal delusions of the 1960's: "War is not the answer." "America is a racist, sexist, homophobic country." "Culture of corruption." "Tax cuts for the rich." "Be Very Afraid, the world is cooling/warming." "Global Orgasm for Peace." This is the otherwise inexplicable appeal of that cliche-ridden empty suit, Barack Obama.

Like the Islamists, the "progressive" is animated by a beautiful ideal located in the distant past. In truth, it never really existed. Rather, it is purely archetypal and precedes any particular "thoughts" about it. Once it is embraced, it then produces its own thoughts. The formality of a thinker is not required. If you peruse, say, huffingtonpost or dailykos, you will see that the memes that are reflexively channelled there are overwhelmingly angry, paranoid, and alarmist. In reality, this represents alarm over the fact that time really does exist, and rage at the fact that the wider world does not mirror their tribal ideal.

The progressive party is the nostalgic party that actually wishes to deny history and escape from time. Perhaps I should again emphasize how common this is, both in individuals and in groups. Freud, for example, said that the neurotic "suffers from reminisences." For what is a neurosis but a perpetual replaying of events of the past that are superimposed on the present, the constant structuring of reality in terms of the timeless unconscious?

Similarly, the progressive navigates through life while keeping his eyes riveted on the rear view mirror. Therefore, the same things keep mysteriously happening. It's positively eery: Bush is Nixon. Iraq is Vietnam. The terrorist intercept program is the White House enemy list. The Valerie Plame matter is Watergate. Clearly, these progressive cargo-cultists think that all the economic gifts brought to us by those two tax-cutting bwanas, Reagan and Bush, really arrived courtesy of the old big government gods.

The archaic community lives in a tribal memory that is impervious to the ravages of time. But as reality increasingly deviates from the sacred memory, it is the duty of every tribal member to renew, reassert and rejuvenate the ideal through rituals of various kinds. You can see these primitive magicians at dailykos, going through their various rituals and Ghost Dances, raging against reality, desperately trying to cleanse and "renew" it.

For primitive groups, time is terror. Therefore, it is no surprise that we routinely hear from the left that "George Bush is the world's biggest terrorist." That he is, in the sense that he has no respect for the tribal ways of the progressive mind and its sacred, eternal myths.

In the long run, in most merely quantitative ways, things always get better, as science and capitalism -- not progressivism -- assure that. The economy is humming along with low unemployment and interest rates, people are living longer than ever, the environment has never been cleaner in my lifetime, crime rates and illegitimacy are much lower than the recent past, more people own homes and attend college than ever. These are all the things progressives supposedly care about, but the better things get, the worse they feel.

But things are also changing in qualitative ways: materialism and spiritual exhaustion, neopaganism, barbarous entertainment, cognitively repressive political correctness, the cult of the body, sexual license, self-worship, moral relativism, multi-culturalism... Why aren't progressives more grateful? Still not primitive enough?

27 comments:

Anonymous said...

Of course "war is not the answer."

War is the question. Victory is the answer.

Anonymous said...

Hi Bob:
Super post! The church of progressive primitivism.

BTW, Bob, I just sent you an email.
Please let me know if you don't get it.

Anonymous said...

>>Primitive societies abhor change, and do everything within their power to prevent, deny, or undo it. Often, when change happens suddenly, these cultures will simply assimilate the novelty into their old system of belief<<

The Catholic Church has had a problem with this in parts of Africa where Church ritual/dogma has been often been jumbled with tribal deities, voodoo ritual. Not surprising, considering that of all the Christian religions, Catholicism is the most "pagan", retains pagan elements, ie., accent on color, colorful ritual, etc.

Of course, the retention of the pagan element is not necessarily bad - it underscores the force, the primal "fire", necessary for process of sublimation of instinctual energy into transcended consciousness. When we lose sight of the primal fire, we lose sight of the sublimation process, at which point religion becomes lifelessly "mental." I think we could say that the pagan element ->sublimation equation worked in Ireland and England, though the early churches did mix a lot of the old nature/pantheistic stuff in with the Catholicism. The danger, I think, is when the pagan weight of the past just proves too great for the sublimation process to take hold.

Anonymous said...

I listened to snipets of the Danny De Vito rant on the View. One that particularly stood out was when he made the statement that Bush just doesn't give the "feel" of Clinton.
It's as if certain leaders become talismans for Leftists against evil realities, as if their mere presence will ward off evil spirits and make everything perfect. I've noticed this belief with many "progressives" I've had conversations with. These talismans take on the mantle of saviour to the extent that a negative statement made about the saviour is perceived as a personal slight and the vitriol flows like water. Bill Clinton seems to be the top talisman and saviour.
I also believe Jon Carry is particularly self deluded in this respect, projecting this saviour mantle on himself. Watching him during the Presidential election, I am convinced that he believes entirely in the fantasy that the weight of his personality is all that would be needed to magically turn the tide of world events. It's possibly the reason why he never had any answer when asked what his plans were in any situation. I'm confident that his "plan" which was never articulated, was exactly this.

NoMo said...

Beautiful, Bob. Just a couple observations from places where you took me today. Somehow, elaborating on the description of the mental disorder of liberalism sparked a rediscovery in me of the answer to my question, "What is the cure?". It is, of course, to speak the truth in love. Although its hard to imagine how "progressives" can be so blind, I have to remember my own path to the light. In the late 60s and early 70s, being a truebeliever, my drug-experiences were honestly not to have fun, but to participate in ushering in "the age of Aquarius" (I'm not kidding). This NEW AGE would be THE ANSWER to all the anxiety built up in me through my formative years -- in my case, a deep, abiding fear of being nuked by the rooskies. Had I not been repeatedly exposed to the Truth by various someones who truly cared, I'm confident that I would today be as "progressive" as they come.

A somewhat unrelated question: Does the acceptance of the physical evolution of humankind from something far less complex over billions of years imply that the Creator required a process to get where He intended, rather than having the power to speak the perfect into being? Perhaps He needed a series of experiments to get it right -- of which we are just one in a series still underway? I'm serious. To me, the answer speaks to the very nature of God.

Along an also somewhat unrelated vein, here is my Firesign Theater quote of the day (don't worry, I won't make a habit of this):

"This is no movie, this is real."
"Which real?"
"The last reel of this vintage motion picture, High School Madness..."

Funny, I used to wonder whether their brilliance and amazing foresightedness was due to FT's having come from somewhere / somewhen else. Hmmm, Bob, where are you from again?

Anonymous said...

NoMo, Gary Larson beat you to the idea of God experimenting. Remember the classic Far Side cartoon: "God as a kid tries to make a chicken in his room"?! Heh.

Bob, your analogy of the so-called progressive Leftists as members of a cargo-cult is brilliant. I'm sure the light will hurt some eyes.

Anonymous said...

Excellent post. It reminded me of The Playboy of the Western World, in which the appearance of a warrior hero (in the form of a bedraggled farm boy named Christy) brings shocking changes to a half-pagan Irish village. It never occurred to me until I read your post that the heroine, Pegeen Mike, is actually the most primitive character in the play. She's angry and fearful, but I never thought of her as primitive before.

Nomo, if you're out of touch with your old comrades, you may be amused to learn that some people are still waiting for the Age of Aquarius to arrive. I used to work at a neo-pagan publishing house, and they truly believe that their mission is to help usher in the New Age. At this point, I'd be wondering what the hold-up is.

Anonymous said...

cont.

I had a pinch of faith in God, when I joined the Navy.
My Mom would take us to church for a few weeks at a time, until she got some help from them. Then she would party on darvon, some other relaxers and beer or wine.

Then she would go try another church, at some random point.

But I enjoyed it, most times. The Baptist Church, he First Baptist Church when I was around 8, where I always wondered if there was a second Baptist Church and Third.

I got a bit hurt there when I discovered that the sunday school teacher didn't like answering my tough questions starting with why or how, like if God can do anything, what if he made a rock He couldn't lift? How would he lift it?

I had heard some high school kids on the bus talking about parodoxes. I really was curious about that one.
The teacher resorted to a phrase I would hear again and again.

"If you have faith, you wouldn't ask those questions."
That was a disturbing and uncomfortable moment.

Then there was the Southern Baptist Church which was a blast! People got excited in that Church!
When the Preacher was preaching the people would talk back. "Say it Preacher!". "Amen!" (Usually preceded by a "Can I get an Ameeen!?" by the Preacher). "Go Tell it on the mountain!" was another one. I would have to ask the Sunday school teacher about that one.

Sometimes a woman or a man would jump up and start dancing, which started a chain reaction of dancing. I was kind of shy about the dancing part, but the old lady wasn't taking 'no thanks' as an answer, or maybe she didn't hear me. It was time to dance!

People always left that Church looking like they worked out or just got home from work. I liked the music alot, because they really jammed!

Then there was a Methodist Church, and a Presbyterian Church, both rather boring in my young opinion. Even the music was uninspired. No excitement here. Time to move on.

So I believed in God, but secretly thought that He couldn't do everything, or didn't want to.
When I was 14 I accepted Christ in my heart (or so I thought) and got baptized in a creek, near a non-denominational country Church.
The water was ice cold, this being spring.
I can still feel it, it was that cold.

I mainly went to that Church because some friends went there, and we all played trumpet, and this Church had alot of concerts. A great opportunity to play. At this point of my life my goal was to become a professional Jazz musician.

2 years later I met a guy in the junior college jazz band and he told me about the life of most musicians and how much thy were paid. His words rang true but they were a bummer
I realized I was a competent trumpet and flugelhorn player, but I was no Maynard Ferguson or Chuck Mangione, and I didn't think I could practice enough to be that good.

Then I considered professional chess, since I was the captain of the junior high chess team. A game that I was good at and loved. We won the national championship that year, and I tied for 3rd individual, getting beaten by Joel Benjamin, a 12 year old kid (I was 14 so I wasn't a kid anymore). But he was a prodigy, and still plays today.

Again I realized that I wasn't going to be good enough to support myself playing chess. Study and hard work only gets you so far and if you don't have enough natural ability, you're going to live like a hobo. Of course it took me awhile to reach these conclusions, but I did get there.

So cold, hard reality wasn't something new to me.
I was no stranger to child abuse, but not nearly as bad off as most kids that were abused. No broken bones or serious physical damage.
I had dealt with adversity before.
I was just wondering if I left one bad reality and entered a worse one.

"What do you mean I'm going to mess cook? Is this another new guy prank, like the sea-bats or the relative bearing grease?"I asked the LPO Lleading Petty Officer) of my Division.

"Sorry, man, but this isn't a joke, said Petty Officer Coolbreeze (he was cool. Always copasetic or something. He was friends with everybody it seemed). Each division has to loan 1 or 2 guys t the Cooks to help out with food prep, cleaning, moving supplies and stuff.

Our last guy finishes up toorrow, and you're the newest guy. And the only one who hasn't gone."
"But, I just got here a few days ago. I went to 12 weeks of "A" school, to learn my job,
and now I have to cook?"Actually, I could not believe this! I was in denial. For about one minute.
Petty Officer Coolbreeze said "Noo, maan.
You aren't going to cook."

I wasn't? :^)
"You're gonna help the the real Cooks, with everything but cooking, so don't worry about that."
"Oh. :^( For how long?" I said, sullenly.
"Only three months." says Coolbreeze, acting like that's a good thing.
"Be over before you know it."
I didn'think so, but it wasn't like Ihad any pull being the new guy, so I gave up on trying to convince Coolbreeze that he was making a mistake and it wasn't fair.

"You might wanna hit the rack early tonight. You have to report at 0400, which means you need to wake up at 0330 to have time to sh*t, shower and shave." said a helpful Coolbreeze.

"Swell. I can hardly wait." I said, in my best deadpan with a cynical undertone tough guy voice while squinting my eyes and semi-scowling.
Well, I learned something from all those Clint Eastwood movies.

Coolbreeze looked like he was trying not to laugh.
What a joker. Was my impression that bad?
I would have to practice on that some more.
I have to be more convincing, I thought.
I now believed I was being targetted by God, for breaking Murphy's Law or somehing. Maybe all those paradox questions tipped the balance.

Next up: Time to get cookin'!

Anonymous said...

The next morning, at the unciviized hour of 0300 (3 am), the (MOOW) Messenger of the Watch was kind enough to wake me.

Every quarterdeck (the part of the ship you set foot on, when stepping off the gangplank) is manned 24/7 by an armed Officer, Petty Officer, and one or more Messengers.

There is a Wake-UP log book on the quarterdeck, and you can put your name, berthing space, and rack number in it, and the time you want to be rudely awakened.

It's a free service that makes broken alarm clock excuses invalid.

Alarm clocks didn't always work well for me, meaning I tended to sleep through them (with no memory of shutting it, off), so I thought it might be wise to sign the Wake-up log.

The Messenger woke me up and as I opened my eyes I saw a bright light, shining directly at my blurry bloodshot eyes, less than a foot away.

"Are you awake?", asked the way too cheerful Messenger sent to torment me...
"Yes, and thanks for burning my corneas," I muttered.

Messenger Zippity-doo-da cheerfully replied, "No problem! have fun!"
Why was Zippity so happy?
"Hey, why are you so happy?" I asked, immediately regretting it, because Zippity shined the beacon back in my eyes.
"I get relieved from duty in 45 minutes,"
he said.
I would soon understand that joy for myself, when I had to stand watch.
"Oh." I said, as I tried to get out of the rack without waking up the other guys.

I didn't want to accidently step on someone as I climbed down, which does happen sometimes.
I made it to the cold, hard deck with no problems, except my feet were freezing.

Open my locker, with very little ambient light (red, in those days), and I had to squint around the spots I was still seeing, to see the numbers of my combination lock.

Grab my shower flip flops, a towel, and my shaving kit and get ready.
I was all finished by.. 0315.
Hmmm...looks like I got up too early. Bummer! I hated to see 30 minutes of potential sleep wasted like that. Better make it 0330 tomorrow.

Might as well get some coffee, I thought, as I made my way up the ladder and down the dimly lit (red lights again) passageway towards the mess decks (dining area).

Navy coffee is the most popular beverage by far on a ship (actually beer would be, if it were allowed, like on Aussie ships, lucky dogs).

It can be good, strong, good and strong, or bad and way to strong, or weaker than "piss", as the Chief Cook would say, depending on who makes it.
Sometimes you need the bad and way too strong version.

We didn't have the decaf, or the castrated coffee, as my Grandpa used to say, except for the instant kind.
I got me a cup and poured. Judgng by the syrupy like consistency, and deep black color, I was betting this was either bad and strong coffee, or it sat out all night and metamorphed into bad and strong.

Too be fair, "bad" coffee is subjective and relative, because some Sailors liked it.

But "strong" coffee was objective and absolute. No argument there.

As I sat there sipping an insanely high concentration of caffeine, with a water chaser, a booming voice, just a few feet behind me startled me, causing me to spill coffee on my uniform.

"YOU THE NEW GUY?!!!

I quickly got up and tuned around, with coffee still steaming off my shirt and dungarees (jeans, sort of).
It was the Chief Cook. A big, burly guy with hairy popeye arms (really), and a tattoos everywhere.
Nice Popeye tattoo, I thought as I said, "Aye, Chief!"
"You don't have to yell, I'm right here" said the Chief as I imagined myself rolling my eyes.

"You might want to cut down on the caffeine, if it makes you that jittery," he chuckled.

Hardy har har, I thought. This guy was a riot.
"Conrad, huh?" He said, as he read my name stencilled (exactly one quarter of an inch!) over my left shirt pocket.

"Sounds like comrade! You ain't a commie are you boy?" He said, suspiciously eyeing me.

Was this guy for real? I heard chuckling behind me.
The Chief was a comedian I guess. Of course, everyone could've been laughing because the Chief outranked us all...and he was a giant.
Note to self: don't make the Chief angry.

"No Chief, Conrad is British." I said.
Actually, I didn't know if it was British or not, I just wanted to stop being the focus of the Chiefs attention, and comedy act.

I had a good sense of humor, but this guy seemed to be one egg short of a carton, at least.
The Chief kept eyeing me suspiciously and moved closer, until he was towering over me, suddenly looking very angry!

Crap! I thought (and almost did)! What did I do?
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his massive hand (and Popeye arm) swinging at me fast!
I instinctively put my arms up, hands turned to fists, to block the blow!

"HA! HA! HA! The Chief laughed deeply, as he "patted" me on the back, almost knocking me off balance.

"Easy there tiger! Just having some fun!" The Chief said, still laughing

"You got nerves of steel, son. You'll make a good addition to our crew. Welcome aboard Conrad!, the Chief said, as he put out his massive hand offering a handshake.

Nerves of steel? I almost wet my pants, I thought, as I shook hands with the Chief, trying not to wince in pain as my hand disappeared from view.

Fortunately, he released his grip quickly.
After a bit of small talk, the Chief gave me a tour of my new job.

To be Cont...

Anonymous said...

What progressive's want is to belong to SOMETHING. What can you tell us that we can rally around?

FerGodssake, save us!

--Libby the Liberal

Anonymous said...

For starters, how about rallying around reality?

Anonymous said...

Haven't heard from Petey for a while. Did he go on vacation?

Anonymous said...

Speaking of C S Lewis and the forgetting of his-tory. If anyone seriously examines all the "evidence"(so called)how could/can anyone possibly be a Christian?
And if you seriously examine what is happening in the world one will find that most of the psychosis now being dramatised on to the world stage is generated by the would be, essentially totalitarian,world conquering POLITICAL "religions" of Islam & Christianity with their equally obnoxious only one way/truth/faith mind created idolatries.
In effect these world "religions are the archaic remnants (murderous in their intent) of ancient ethnic and tribalistic nationalisms.

Anonymous said...

"Bush is Nixon, and Iraq is Vietnam."

Remember when Reagan was Nixon and Granada was Vietnam?

The amusing part was, as the MSM proclaimed this neverending story that never changes,
invoking the quagmire mass of their Vietnam god,
Grenada was won.

President Reagan, to prevent leaks, didn't even tell Margaret Thatcher about the operation to decommunize Granada, and save 500 American students in the process.

It was a sad day for the suckular regressives.

President Reagan brilliantly outmaneuvered the regressive left, by not allowing them time to ressurect Nixon and Vietnam.

This is why the left-wing press hates secrets.

If I were President, I would have a school of red herrings
"leaked" to the MSM, to ruin what little credibility they are perceived
to have.

Anonymous said...

Dear Anonymous 7:49:55-

We know where you live Dr? Soldz.

Anonymous said...

"so-called" evidence, troll?

Why, your very "existence" is "so-called". I sneer at any evidence you can conjure up to convince me that you even live and breathe.

Heck, if a jury can't convict O.J. based on "so-called" evidence stacked up "so-called" reasonable doubts, then I can doubt that you are even real, dear anony-mouse.

I look up from my book, notice a wisp of a troubling thought, and like Scrooge, I decide you are a bit of bad porridge I had for dinner. Nothing more.

Anonymous said...

A piece of undigested potato.

Anonymous said...

Anon troll:
C-/D+ on the trolling. Mediocre effort. Poor execution.
(And I'm a generous grader)

JWM

Anonymous said...

Looks like we've had a drive by trolling. Clearly, this one didn't even bother to read any posts but today's before leaving his mess. Tis a pity, really.

Van Harvey said...

Anonymouse,
I know JWM can be a bit harsh, but keep your head up. I'll give you 2 points for thumbing the thesaurus for the BIG words. Now you just need to work on using them in a sentence, and try to remember that a sentence is supposed to be a complete Thought... not just grammatically, it is even more important that it should actually contain THOUGHT.

I know this may be a stunner for you, but most of those here have actually considered that 'thought' themselves long ago, and then many mucho times since by other Thought-challenged folk such as yourself....

Here's a hint - your comment "If anyone seriously examines all the "evidence"(so called)how could/can anyone possibly be a Christian?" has been seriously considered by some very thoughtful folks, and they've found some good reasons for doing so. See if you might be able to dig a little deeper.

Ah well, back to the ol' drawing board.

Anonymous said...

I agree with the troll. Organized religion is pretty much ridiculous.
If you want God, then go get Him. No need to get all organized and stupid about it.

Down with a all churches.

Anonymous said...

I think the progressives stink except for one thing where I think they are hit the mark pretty well, and that is on the issue of "multi-culturalism."

If you deny multi-culturalism, then you run the risk of having your own culture amalgamated into some kind of melting-pot hybrid that you don't like.

Let's keep the cultures clearly separated and multifarous, unless you want to be celebrating Cinco de Mayo as a national holiday. There's no guarantee that the Anglo's will always stay on top.

So think about what you're asking for, here. Limiting multculturalism only works if your culture happens to be top dog. Once that rating slips, then you're at the tip of the boot.

Support multiculturalism, because its the correct choice.

Anonymous said...

potemkin
There is such a thing called American Culture. That's the culture I want to remain as top dog.

P.S. It's based on ideals and has nothing to do with anglos besides the fact that it was conceived and implemented by a few of them. All cultures are free to join.

Anonymous said...

The "proof of the pudding" you offer today is found in the latest rantings of the esteemed B. Sanders, socialist regnant in Vermont, who has announced his intent to investigate all things Bush--Halliburton, WMD's in Iraq, war-for -oil, etc., etc. Everything old is new again for these "progressive" thinkers, as long as it resounds appropriately in the echo chamber of their adolescent society--the high school misfits grown old, but not up.

Van Harvey said...

NoMo,
I don't know about the experiments or attempting to get it right, but it seems to me if you engage in a longterm project that slowly develops and changes and creates new and interesting things in the process - it's probably because it's interesting to you and you Love to do it.

NoMo said...

Van,

Thanks. I like that and will give it some thought.

Van Harvey said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

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