Brutal attack leaves Hispanic youth near death

Have you heard about the two youths, 17 and 18 years old, who savagely beat a 16-year-old Hispanic boy in the Houston suburb of Spring? It's down right disgusting. Apparently the Hispanic boy tried to kiss a 12 year old girl at a party. The two attackers, both white, drug the Hispanic out in the back yard and beat him repeatedly with their steel-toed boots. We're talking head kicks here.

Not only that, they shoved a rigid piece of plastic pipe into his rectum, with one of the boys kicking the pipe further and further inside. It went in so far that doctors don't expect the boy to live.

Now I'm all for giving someone a good old fashioned butt kicking if they need it. I stress, if they need it. Example: They hit your mother, wife or children, or they call your wife mother or children a name so bad you couldn't even repeat it.

In that case, you might be justified in giving someone a black eye or a couple of bruises. But to sodomize someone so badly that it kills them? I just don't get it.

Here's a great article from the Houston Chronicle if you want to read the complete story.

Is it time for 'Flight 93' film? Yes

The man was obviously from Middle Eastern descent. He had olive skin, dark hair, a long beard and wore heavy, thick glasses that framed his large eyes perfectly. I clutched the armrests of the 747 as we banked over Manhattan that morning, just two days after American forces led an invasion into Iraq.

My eyes never left him.

I was heading back home after a week-long stay in the city, and I was more than a little anxious to see Arkansas again. This was only my second post-9/11 flight, and my anxiety level was very high as I sat on a plane that, in my mind at least, could have been part of another terror plot.

Just one day before, I witnessed U.S. soldiers patrolling Manhattan subways with machine guns. Many more soldiers stood guard in Times Square, fingers on triggers, poised to make mince meat out of anyone who even thought about terrorism. Everyone seemed to think that America was once again in the crosshairs, and I wasn’t going to question it.

I knew I wouldn’t feel completely safe until we touched down in Little Rock, but I tried to remain calm, holding a tight set of reigns on my imagination. Looking out the window, I focused on the Empire State Building. It looked like a child’s toy on a model train set, the spire reaching toward the amber-blue morning sky.
From the plane, the city was so peaceful, void of noise and crime, and for a moment I lost myself in the view.

But then the man stood up, his large frame dwarfing nearby flight attendants as he swept the plane with his eyes. What was he looking for? Why is he looking around?
I gulped, almost swallowing my tongue.

The man slowly ambled down the aisle toward my row, and I just knew that he had a bomb with some horrific plot to take down the airplane. In my mind, it was over.
I was at the back of the plane and watched as the man entered, then left, the bathroom a few minutes later. As it turned out, he wasn’t a terrorist, he just needed to relieve himself.

I felt silly after we safely touched down and I saw him hugging his wife and children at the gate. Who could blame my initial reaction, though? Those were angst-filled times when everyone was on alert. I often think back about that experience and wonder what it must have been like for the passengers on board the doomed 9/11 planes.

One of those planes, United Flight 93, is the subject of a new, controversial film opening next month. The passengers on Flight 93 had their imaginary fears become horrifically real that morning — the day their lives ended and they became American heroes.

In order to keep the plane from plowing into the U.S. Capitol building in Washington, the 40-something passengers and crew of Flight 93 fought the hijackers, bringing the jet-fuel-heavy 747 down in a Pennsylvania field.
Reports say the plane rolled over and followed a near-vertical line straight into the field. I can’t imagine what was going through those passengers’ minds during their violent descent.

This film’s goal is to shed light on some of these unknowns, sharing with audiences the final day of the passengers’ lives. Many say it’s too soon for such a film, that it opens still-sore wounds that aren’t healed. I haven’t seen the film yet, but I plan to. The previews look stunning, and I’m sure it will be one of those you walk away from and think, “Wow, that was really powerful.”

And it will probably make us all afraid to fly again.

Veep nods off during China president's visit

I couldn't resist posting this picture. Isn't he precious? This is the perfect metaphor for our country today. The big dogs are sleeping, unaware of the problems the regular Joes are facing, like gas prices.

Photo credit: ABC News.

British officials plan for US-led Iran attack

In a move mirroring the days just before the United States invaded Iraq, British officials this week are forming contingency plans for a possible US-led strike against Iran. The U.K. Telegraph, an online British newspaper, is reporting that "it is believed that an American-led attack, designed to destroy Iran's ability to develop a nuclear bomb, is 'inevitable' if Teheran's leaders fail to comply with United Nations demands to freeze their uranium enrichment programme." Click here for the Telegraph's coverage on this issue.

And it is unlikely that Iran will obey those orders. Just today, Iran's former president, Hashemi Rafsanjani, confirmed that Iran had for the first time enriched Uranium. This is the first step in a long process required to actually build a nuclear bomb, and Iranian officials are denying claims by the U.S. and United Nations that they are in fact seeking a weapon.

Iran says it is only seeking nuclear energy.

If I had to vote, I would guess that we are going into Iran at some point in the near future, unless the government there abandons its nuclear program. It will most likely be a major air strike, rather than sending in ground troops for a complete takeover. There is even talk of using tactical nuclear weapons there, although these reports are unconfirmed.

Bush will never allow Iran to continue developing their nuclear program, so be prepared for some type of attack to happen in the next few months. Seymour Hersh's New Yorker article, which you can get to from my blog if you read an article below, reports that Bush sees a successful attack on Iran as his last great triumph before he leaves office in 2008.

Hersh's article states, in part, that "A government consultant with close ties to the civilian leadership in the Pentagon said that Bush was 'absolutely convinced that Iran is going to get the bomb' if it is not stopped. He said that the President believes that he must do 'what no Democrat or Republican, if elected in the future, would have the courage to do,' and 'that saving Iran is going to be his legacy.'”

Implications? Gas prices higher than we have ever seen, perhaps $5 per gallon, and new terror threats from radical groups such as Hezbollah. It could get really ugly.

U.S. prepares for possible Iranian war

The United States is no doubt preparing to strike Iran before Bush leaves the White House. A solid article by Pulitzer Prize winning journalist Seymour M. Hersh in this week's New Yorker magazine details that possible plan.

You may remember that Hersh is one of the first journalists to detail the horrors unveiled at the Abu Ghraib prison. His information is usually pretty accurate. And in one of the more disturbing points of the article, Hersh reports that the Bush administration hasn't ruled out nuclear strike against the rogue Middle Eastern nation.

Click here to view Hersh's article in the New Yorker.

Many people misunderstand immigration issue

Margarito Ramirez came to the United States 22 years ago to work and start a new life. Catching chickens for a large poultry corporation in the DeQueen area, Ramirez was able to make enough money to help support his 13 brothers and sisters back in Mexico.

Today, Ramirez is a U.S. citizen, but he longs for the day when his other family members, who still live in Mexico, can legally join him in the United States. I told Ramirez's story several years ago in an article for the Democrat-Gazette's Tri-Lakes Edition. I feel that it's even more pertinent today.

The marches and protests that are currently underway in support of illegal immigrants who live in this country baffle me. Why? Because it's not right to grant these illegal residents amnesty to work and live in this country when people like Ramirez have fought for many years to become legal the hard way.

I don't understand how anyone can march in support of something like this. All of the illegals in this country have just as much chance of becoming legal as Ramiez did, yet they don't want to wait the many years that it may take for their citizenship to come through.

And what about future immigrants? How is it fair to only ignore the laws for the illegals who are here now, then later enforce them against a new set of people coming into this country?

If our government officials grant millions of illegal immigrants full rides to stay here and work, I will lost what little respect I have for them. I say let the illegals go back home if they don't like this country and the way we are treating them. We have immigration laws for a reason. And they must be enforced.

Another point many people try to make is that illegals are "doing jobs that Americans don't want to do." That simply isn't true. Make the large corporations like Tyson shell out money to lure Americans into jobs once held by illegals. It's not that Americans don't want to work the jobs illegals currently hold, it's that the corporations don't want to pay higher wages Americans demand.

Now is the time for everyone to stand up for what's right. No matter how you look at it, an illegal immigrant is just that, illegal. There is nothing right about making them instantly legal, and it's ludicrous for protesters to think that illegals deserve the right to become American citizens overnight.

Make them earn it.

Above photo: Arkansas Democrat-Gazette/BOB COLEMAN
An estimated 50 Springdale students, mostly junior high school students, march through downtown Springdale on Emma Street Friday morning to protest U.S. immigration policies. Students were concerned how the U.S. policies would affect their future and the lives of their parents. 3/31/06

Children at play

Children ride a primitive Ferris wheel atop a heap of garbage in a slum area of Karachi, Pakistan April 5.

I thought this was a striking photo. Just wanted to share it. The credit goes to Asif Hassan/ AFP - Getty Images.

Branson sails Titanic

Well, the good folks in Branson Mo., are at it again. They've added yet another tasteless "family attraction" to go along with Yakov Smirnoff's comedy theater and Dolly Parton's Dixie Stampede. This time it's the Titanic World Museum.

They've turned this half-scale model of the Titanic into a mega-tourist attraction, complete with water that sprays the ship deck to create the illusion that visitors are actually on the ocean. The ship even has a faux iceberg attached to it.

Isn't this a bit like building a reproduction of the World Trade Center towers and having people shuffle through them while wearing Bermuda shorts and toting video cameras? Why not have a remote control 747 flying around that World Trade Center Museum?

Even though the Titanic sank in 1912 and few people actually remember how much the event affected the world, the ship's passengers deserve a little more respect than this. The museum concept is a good idea— they have artifacts from the Titanic, along with reproductions of several of the ship's more famous areas like the grand staircase.

But it should've been built in a museum-quality structure, not in a poor rendetion of the ship herself. The Titanic's demise isn't something that should be recreated for family vacations. It was the worst non-war related sea disaster in human history and deserves a little more dignity.

Above photo: MSNBC.com

My first AP story

To my knowledge, this is the first story of mine to be picked up by the Associated Press. I thought it was really cool. The Log Cabin Democrat in Conway, Ark., ran the story.


By JOHN WORTHEN
News-Times
EL DORADO (AP) - Kent Pey's hot dog cart at the corner of Elm and Main streets in downtown El Dorado is fast becoming a popular attraction for hungry business people, lawyers, politicos and average citizens who appreciate a good "street dog."

Every day, at least when it's not raining, Pey, 48, sets up his cart at 10:30 a.m. and begins grilling his specialty Italian sausages, all-beef hot dogs, bratwursts and Polish sausages.

He's carrying on a proud tradition of street vending that began when Charles Feltman, a German butcher, opened up the first modern-style hot dog cart on Coney Island in 1867. And, like Feltman, Pey does it because he loves serving people good food.

As Pey gingerly turns his links over bright orange flames, he makes it a point to learn things about his customers, who are often very chatty. He learns their names, where they're from, how their day is going and who they're pulling for in whatever sporting event is taking place at the time.

It's all part of the "hot dog cart experience," he said. "People enjoy it when you get to know them," Pey said as he sat on an ice chest in front of his cart. "My dad was a butcher and he had a wholesale place. He was the same way, he loved to talk to people."

Richard "Bubba" Long, who delivers medicine for several El Dorado pharmacies, is one person Pey has gotten to know quite well. Long drops by for an Italian sausage almost daily and enjoys Pey's company.

"I like talking to him, he has a great personality and is a jubilant type fellow," said Long. "And I really like those Italian sausages."

Talking to people and making them feel at home is only one part of running a successful hot dog cart, though. The food has to be really good to keep them coming back for more.

For that, Pey relies on skills learned in one of the most culture-rich neighborhoods in the country: the Italian area of St. Louis known as The Hill, where he grew up.

Before moving to Arkansas with his wife, who secured a job at Murphy Oil several months ago, Pey operated a hot dog cart at Union Station in St. Louis. At one time, he also owned three restaurants in St. Louis, so he's no stranger to dishing out quality food.

Growing up around authentic Italian cuisine shaped his palate to appreciate the traditionally robust Italian flavors, something he's carried over into the food he serves today.

"All of the Italians (in The Hill) have specialties," said Pey. "Either sausages, cannoli, pastries or whatever. I picked up a lot just from being around all of that."

Every three weeks, Pey guides his dusty blue Ford pickup from El Dorado back to The Hill to pick up dozens of the hand-made Italian sausages for his cart. The links come in spicy or regular and aren't available anywhere but his old neighborhood, bringing a taste of authentic Italian tradition to South Arkansas.

The number of visitors Pey sees at his stand on any given day tells the story of how popular his cart is becoming, which may mean even more trips back home to pick up the special links. It's not unusual for Pey to serve as many as 100 customers during the four hours he sets up each day.

The 'Type-Writer'

I found this image of an old typewriter on Google the other day and decided to write a selection as if I were the typewriter. It's a little quirky but it turned out to be kind of fun.

I am the "Type-Writer." My keys are hard and cold, my ribbon worn. I can still type everything from A to Z, and from one to zero, and my return key works just fine, thank you. I am a relic of yesteryear.

I pine for the long, red nails of my first owner, who hardly ever touched me, but when she did, it was pure heaven. Her touch was, at times, gentle. When she typed soft notes to her lover, her cadence was sleek, unending.

Other times, though, she abused me. I remember the day I was thrown down a flight of stairs at her ex-lover. I smacked his head — blood poured out all over my keys. He died.

After that I belonged to a bank teller who had no wife or children — no family to speak of — and he typed secret desires on me. He wanted to be a transvestite and would put on long, silk dresses and bright purple lipstick when he typed on me.

For no reason, he sold me to a convent in 1950, and I never heard from him again. The nuns typed letters to God on me. Prayers, hopes and wishes, none of them ever postmarked, but rather buried in a hope box in their backyard.

I stayed at the convent until it closed in the 1990s, and I was sold on eBay. A large man with sweaty armpits stored me in his basement next to old glam magazines from the 1920s. It was scary down there, dank and dark. And he never used me. He seemed normal until the day he came and got me to type a letter. It was a suicide note. I never knew him well, and his rough fingers pawed at my keys hungrily as he pounded out his last words.

Now I am homeless, sitting in the junk section of a flea market in Boise, Idaho. To my right, an old green Singer sewing machine sits, belts worn through and no needle. To my left, a cracked China doll sits on a bookcase full of worn out novels and comic books. The sour, musky smell of dying material surrounds me, and I can't help but wonder if anyone will touch my keys again.

Found poetry

While waiting for the speaker at a Rotary luncheon today, I saw a packet of sugar on my table. It inspired this poem. For whatever it's worth.

Sugar.
Pure.
Sweet.
Nestled in a chrome caddy between food-caked salt and pepper shakers and a dozen packets of Sweet-N-Low.
Sweeten your tea with nature;
Liven up your life with sugary nipples;
Make it your own personal concoction of sweet, grainy ecstasy.
Like the charlatans in the Red Light District of Amsterdam — their full, red lips pressed against fogged up glass — it's there for your pleasure.
Take it.

Moses appears in rural Ark. community

Skeptics are calling it a hoax. Religious officials say it’s a miracle. But no matter who you talk to in Morrilton today, all agree that the appearance of a man claiming to be the Biblical Prophet Moses is the biggest thing that ever hit this community.

The man appeared at approximately 10 a.m. Sunday morning on Petit Jean Mountain, making his way into Morrilton — a community of approximately 10,000 — later that afternoon, according to local officials.

“I just cannot believe it. I want to believe it’s real, and I feel that it is, but I have to see proof,” said long-time Morrilton Mayor Stewart Nelson. “Once I see proof with my own eyes, I reckon I’ll believe it.”

That proof may come soon, as Moses says he will part the Arkansas River late Tuesday evening in a show of his divine power. At a press conference outside the Morrilton Area Chamber of Commerce Monday morning, Moses, his long, dark locks flowing in the spring breeze, assured area residents that God sent him to this sleepy town that sits on the foothills of the Ozarks.

“This is God’s will,” said Moses, as he clutched two stone tablets containing the Ten Commandments. “God has sent me to Morrilton to let everyone know that He still reigns.”

Already, satellite trucks from across the country are swarming Morrilton, and a flood of telephone calls into the city has shutdown all phone lines. In a mad rush, residents jammed he local Wal-Mart , which has sold out of bottled water, milk, bread and almost all of its canned goods.

Nelson urged area residents not to panic, and assured everyone that this is not a sign of the Apocalypse or the end of the world. “As soon as he parts the Arkansas River, we will believe that he truly is Moses. But for now, we are getting ready to lock his butt up if he doesn’t do some kind of miracle,” said Nelson. “My town is in an uproar right now."