Mood:  caffeinated

The Secretary of the Department of Homeland Insecurity who, if dear reader will forgive the derogatory nature of a physical reference, looks like "Walking Death," reflected upon his "gut" feeling that a terrorist strike is imminent.  Frodo, who would look terribly out of place dressed in black and carrying a scythe, has not been able to shake the fact that the Month of August stares in the face of Middle Earth, and that it portends all sorts of danger signals.  It is the four-week period of time predating the issuance of the "Petraeus Report," that begins to bear a historical reference akin to the "Zimmerman Note" or the "Dreyfus Affair."  Merely listing the variables is illustrative.

The Incomparable Moron entered office with the predisposed notion that he could retreat to "the ranch" in Crawford, and stay for the entire month of August.  After all, that was what he always did when he could "cut brush" and do other "hard work," while his superior staff carried out his plan.

The Congress of the United States traditionally fails to convene so that the Members can return to their home districts, go on junkets, campaign, raise money, spend time with their families, or "cut brush" and do other "hard work."   

The Iraqi Parliament, modeled after their American cousins, also intends to shut down for the month of August.  Temperatures are expected to reach a sizzling level somewhere in the neighborhood of ten degrees cooler than either Phoenix or Las Vegas.  Afraid that their purple thumbs might run, the Shiites need a cooler location, perhaps in Syria or Iran, in which to plot their "stragedy" for the pending departure of all those who need to "cut brush," or do other "hard work."

It was during the month of August, 2001, that the Bush Administration, while the Incomparable Moron was on vacation, failed to note the significance of any of the National Intelligence Estimates which were issued.

It was in August, 1914, when sectarian violence culminated in the conflagrations which united to become the First World War.

Frodo could go on too long for the attention span fostered by Internet blogging, but the point is made.  Chertoff, like a blind man, throwing enough rocks, will sooner or later hit an elephant with one. 

Frodo thinks it wise to raise the threat level beyond pink (beware of gay marriage), and to recognize that if the "enemy" really wanted to do some damage, then just prior to the "Petraeus Report" would be prime time.  If Frodo were Osama bin Laden, he'd like nothing better than to convince even the 29% that the Administration had no clue at all.  What then, would be "Plan C?"  Sauron will reap what he has sown. 

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 10:41 PM EDT

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Mood:  down

"Hear Ye, Hear Ye, Court is now in Session, the Honorable Judge Frodo presiding.   All Ye Who Have Business Before the Court, please step forward," said the Bailiff.

"United States Attorney Patrick Fitzgerald representing the Prosecution, Your Honor."

"Barrister Johnny Cockamamie representing the Defendant, Your Honor."

"Mister Prosecutor, do you have an opening statement?," asked Judge Frodo.

"I do, but brief Your Honor.  It is the intent of the Prosecution to prove that the indictments against Mister Michael Vick, aka 'Ookie,' document his involvement in the interstate transportation of animals for the purpose of conducting illegal gambling on dogs fighting dogs."

"Does the Defense wish to make an opening statement?," Frodo asked.

"Only that the Defendant reasonably thought that his conduct was both reasonable and legal, and that no intent existed to break any laws."

Frodo stared at Cockamamie, and thought to himself that Frodo may well soon be wishing that he had never gone to Law School in the first place.  He smelled a rat in the defense contention.

"Mr. Prosecutor, please proceed with your first witness. . ."

Five days later, after testimony from fourteen eye witnesses to Michael Vick's physical presence at illegal dog-fights in Virginia, South Carolina, and Georgia, the prosecution was prepared to rest its case.  Along the way, the Government presented photographs of Michael Vick, credit-card receipts, fingerprints, and cashed checks;  the evidence substantiated that Vick had been present at the fights, that he had bet on the fights, that he transported dogs to the fights, and that he had participated in the slaughter of dogs who had performed poorly in these fights.  The Attorney for the Defense had virtually conceded all of the evidence, and had not challenged any of the facts entered into the record.

After the prosecution rested, Frodo eyed Cockamamie, and asked if he were prepared to call his first witness.

"Your Honor, the Defense will rest after the testimony of our only witness, Mr. Michael Vick."

The courtroom was abuzz as the quarterback of the Atlanta Falcons sauntered up to the witness stand.  Wearing his trademark doo-rag and baggy shorts, and the black-and-red Official NFL Uniform Shirt (Number 7) with the name "VICK", and his NIKE tennis shoes, he smiled at his trained poodle Arthur Blank, Owner of the Atlanta Falcons Football Team.  After placing his hand on the Bible, he sat down and waited for Johnny Cockamamie to ask the first question.

"Mr. Vick, did you or did you not own fighting dogs?"

"I did."

"Did you or did you not participate in the breeding, training, and the selection of dogs for fighting?"

"I did."

"Did you or did you not transport dogs to the various locations identified during this trial for the purpose of makingf them available to fight?"

"I did."

"Did you or did you not wager on these events?"

"I did."

Cockamamie walked away from the witness stand, and looked directly into the faces of the Jury.  He asked, "If you did all that is alleged by the Prosecution, as you have just indicated, then why Sir, may I ask, would you have the temerity to plead 'Not Guilty?'

This was the question that everyone in the room and around the country was asking themselves at this very moment.  Frodo knew that everything hinged on what Vick would now do or say.

"Mr. Cockamamie, in Georgia, where I live and play football for the Atlanta Falcons, it is not a felony for dog fighting to take place, and, as I now understand, Georgia is one of only two States where that is the case.  It was my understanding at the time that no one could even be charged with a misdemeanor for dog-fighting unless the police were actually present and witnessed the dog fight."

"So, Mr. Vick, you're saying that you logically assumed that if dog-fighting was not even a felony then it was no big deal?"

"You got that right, Dude."

"I beg your pardon."

"I mean, yes sir.  In fact, I thought that if we simply held the fights in places where the police weren't invited, like on private property, that we weren't even doing anything which would merit their interest, at all."

"Who attended these matches, Mr. Vick?"

"Invited guests only."

"So, if I may sum up, you are saying that you were following the laws of the State of Georgia, and that you were holding a private party on private property?"

"Yeah, I mean yes sir."

Frodo looked at Fitzgerald, who remarkably resembled "Scooter" Libby, and he watched as the members of the Jury looked around, many of them nodding their heads.  Vick was signing autographs for the bailiff.  Arthur Blank was handing out "$10 Off" Home Depot coupons to the gallery.

The following season, Michael Vick threw 8 touchdown passes, ran for 22 more, and the Atlanta Falcons finished the season with 7 Wins and 9 Losses.  During the course of the Season, 565 American troops were killed in Iraq. 

Judge Frodo resigned from the Bench and moved to Idaho.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 10:15 PM EDT

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Mood:  don't ask

An earthquake has struck the Pacific Rim causing death and destruction in Japan.  Among the buildings suffering damage is a nuclear reactor, and evidently the extent of the damage to that structure is considerably worse than what has been reported so far.  Frodo cannot help but be concerned about the prospect of a summer novel prediction of a nuclear winter amidst the reality of the detritus scattered upon our energy-starved planet.

The Catholic Archdiocese of Los Angeles has announced an absolutely staggering financial settlement of the sexual abuse charges levelled against "the Church" (as defined by the current holder of record in the Holy See).  What has given special rise to Frodo's attentiveness to this story is the fact that most of the fiscal cost is being paid by insurance.  "Insurance?" asks Frodo.  "What kind of insurance would exist to protect an organization against the sexual deviancy of its representatives?  Errors and Omissions?  Or would there simply be a rider tacked on to the Health Insurance Policy of the Pope?'  In any event, the talking heads of network and cable news are of little value when it comes to intricate sub-textual issues.

Frodo is also awake very early in the morning due to a business deal which is about to land smack dab in the middle of the Antarctic Ice Pack.  Although the competitiveness of winning and losing are very much a part of what Frodo does every single day, it is rare that he lingers long upon either.  In this instance however, Frodo's reputation is imperiled, in at least the eyes of one person, because he expected much more of one party than what was delivered in the process.  Frodo will survive, the financial concerns are comparatively minor, and success is still not out of the question, but Frodo remains bothered by the fact that he expected so much more.  He should know better.

Strange it is that the world could turn to dust in the morrow, and our spiritual leaders would stand idly by, while Frodo is troubled most by the failings of Hobbits not known to the outside world.   Ah, dear reader, the "little people" referenced by Humphrey Bogart, must always remember that no matter what the consequence, they "will always have Paris."  Perhaps now Frodo can return to his rest, and Mick, the Wonder Dog, can remove the furrows from his brow.  Sweet dreams.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 2:25 AM EDT

Updated: Wednesday, July 18, 2007 2:49 AM EDT

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Mood:  lucky

Sydney is a cockatiel.  He is the only resident of the Shire who came at full retail.  He was selected to provide company for Peeper, another cockatiel, who had entered into the lives of Frodo and Sam by sheer happenstance.  Therein lies the tale.

Frodo and Sam were attending an outing at the behest of the College of the Shire.  Sam noticed an avian alien descending to join in the festivity, and asked Frodo to take note.  Frodo extended a single digit, and it was promptly identified as perch heaven by the "Lutino Cockatiel" (as they were to learn later).  Most likely the "yellow bird" had taken flight through an open window somewhere and had lost track of the route home.  Frodo must have appeared as somewhat storklike, but certainly non-threatening, so why not join in the party?

"Peeper," because of her penchant to respond to this suggested moniker, over-and-over, in a somewhat melodic manner, was a female, and after Frodo and Sam learned what and how to care for her, set up housekeeping.  Frodo has to admit that he was unaware that a bird would just begin to lay unfertilized eggs, and to do everything in her unisex power to create new cockatiels.  Although enlightening, it was also very sad.

"Sydney" was just six months old when he came home from the pet shop.  By this time, Peeper was probably four or five years old.  Given what was to take place over the next year or so, Frodo suggested changing their names to "Benjamin" and "Mrs. Robinson."  Peeper was an able instructor, and Sydney was a willing student.  Frodo and Sam determined however, that the care and feeding of baby cockatiels at two AM was not on their agenda, and even though the eggs kept appearing, and were well-cared for a day or so, they mysteriously disappeared shortly thereafter.

Several things happened during their time together that deserve special note.  Peeper never sang again after Sydney arrived.  No matter how he tried, the sing-songy "Peeper" response to Frodo joined the annals of memory.  Grooming became a routine and tender expression of affection between Peeper and Sydney.  For many minutes at a time, one would bow a head and allow the other to beak up the feathers atop, then respond to the other in like fashion.   Even Rocky and Punkin', feline residents of the time, would watch the cooing affection with something more than hunger pangs.

"One grey night it happened. . ." and Peeper lay still at the bottom of the cage.  Despite the anxiety felt by all, Sydney seemed to take things pretty well.  Then Frodo noticed one of the many feeders inside the cage, yellow in color, was drawing all of Sydney's attention.  Sydney would sit next to the yellow feeder, bow his head, and slowly rub his top-knot against the lip of the feeder.  Occasionally, Frodo would softly whistle "peeper," and Sydney would issue a single call, then note that it was merely that storklike clod on the outside, and not something important.

Frodo thought of this because today is Sunday.  On Sunday, Sam prepares an All-American Breakfast, the only such presentation of the week, and Sydney has taken a special interest in both waffles and pancakes.  Somehow, maybe because he can count to seven, Sydney has figured out that Sunday is his day to share in Frodo's waffles or pancakes.  The routine is that he will fly from his cage, and land on Frodo's shoulder, and there stand guard until Sam arrives with the treasure.  Not long ago, Sydney bowed his head while perched on Frodo's shoulder, and began to rub his topknot against the stubble on Frodo's cheek 

Frodo notes special pleasures in life, and a little bird told him how.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:01 PM EDT

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Mood:  sharp

Frodo has an opinion about almost everything and everybody.  This sometimes includes things about which he knows virtually nothing.  Frodo looks at Religion as he does Art; he knows what he likes.  He may have no interest whatsoever in a particular school or form of Art, and that may be due to the fact that he simply doesn't understand it, but he doesn't have anything negative to say about someone who really gets off on it.  "Folk Art," strangely enough, is something that does not move Frodo at all, nor does Zoroastrianism.  What truly irritates Frodo however, is someone who condemns both, for they are truly representative of dark forces.

Frodo's good friend Merry has written of late about the influence of religiously-oriented individuals in the political realm.  Merry is wise and respectful of others.  Much there is to consider for politicians seeking victory in upcoming elections, because voters grow increasingly skeptical, finally, about those who proclaim "Gott mit uns."  For you, dear reader, who speaks not of the Teutonic, be advised that the National Socialists in Germany proclaimed God to be on their side, too.

This past Thursday a Hindu clergyman, named Rajan Zed, made history by offering the morning prayer to open that day's session of the United States Senate.  He began his prayer with these words, "We meditate on the transcendental glory of the Deity Supreme, who is inside the heart of the Earth, inside the life of the sky and inside the soul of the heaven.  May he stimulate and illuminate our minds."  As the Senate prepared to again debate the folly of Iraq, he closed his prayer thusly, "Peace, peace, peace be unto all."

Suddenly, two women and a man began to shout from the Gallery, "This is an abomination."  As they were quickly subdued by police officers, the male told an AP reporter "We are Christians and patriots."  Capitol Police later identified the three as Ante Nedlko Pavkovic, Katherine Lynn Pavkovic, and Christian Renee Sugar.  Their ages and hometowns were not identified.

It is noted that for several days the Mississippi-based American Family Association has urged its members to object to the prayer because Mr. Zed would be "seeking the invocation of a non-monotheistic god."

Mr. Zed was invited by United States Senator Harry Reid (D-NV), who is a Mormon.  Senator Reid said afterwards, "I think it speaks well of our country that someone representing the faith of about a billion people comes here and can speak in communication with our heavenly Father regarding peace."

Frodo once said that if there aren't any dogs in Heaven, then he chooses not to go there.  If the cretins identified above go there, then Frodo similarly chooses another direction for Eternity.  If anyone, dear reader, should happen to know one of the three identified above, and the opportunity arises, please raise one leg and piss on them while proclaiming, "For Frodo!"

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 12:52 PM EDT

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Mood:  a-ok

The Men of Gondor gathered in conversation over Italian food in a place to be known as Hooterville (in order to protect the innocence of an assemblage not likely to share in Frodo's fervent desire for the destruction of Sauron).  Given the environment, Frodo watched nervously at every exit from the toilet, concerned with what may be in the hands of anyone coming in his direction (proof, we suppose, that Frodo has seen "The Godfather" too many times).  While foraging through his salami and onions, Frodo was engaged by Denethor, a wise and gentle engineer of Gondor, who remarked that he often followed the words of Frodo, and found them both amusing as well as diverse.  Frodo was flattered that one whom he regards highly for both his good nature and his science finds value in moments shared over Frodo's ramblings.

Denethor creates fresh water.  From the dispositions of Hobbit and Man alike, Denethor has created huge facilites which scientifically treat and produce a refreshed entry into the environment of Middle Earth.  Patiently, he led Frodo and the Men of Gondor on a tour through one such installation, explaining how 30,000 gallons of what Frodo formerly referred to as "poo-poo water," could safely flow every hour back into the tributaries from which the water first was drawn.  Without the assurances of his friend, Frodo would never have seen beyond the mythology, not unlike those who cause such facilities to be constructed down stream from the major population sources.

An afternoon stroll followed this day, as the Men of Gondor scaled the arguably southernmost of the Appalachian mountains.  The rocky tor that faced to the north rewarded them with a panoramic view of that which once had all been farming plain.  Interspersed for many miles now are grotesque and landless structures which rise from the earth as if they were mushrooms in rings scattered about by seeding fairies.  The absence of adequate rainfall has created rationing need for all, even with the scientific product of Denethor,  because of its entering of existing tributaries far to the south.  Mankind does not trust its science, despite the fact that it is the science which sets mankind above all others.  Those who have not shared time with Denethor retain the "poo-poo water" imagery of the unenlightened Hobbit.

When he returned to the Shire, Frodo listened to the newly-nominated Surgeon General aver that he would resign rather than support politics over science.  Nobody asking questions believed him, nor did Frodo.  It is disconcerting to Frodo that the  "poo-poo water" that does enter the environment untreated is so prevalent, and it seems to come from the same location.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 10:25 PM EDT

Updated: Friday, July 13, 2007 11:00 PM EDT

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Mood:  chatty

Have you ever considered, dear reader, the growth of opportunity?  Imagine, if you will, America at the mid-point of the last century, when all the lights were on again, and all the boys had come home from the War.  The boys all went to get a job, working for somebody else, to manufacture airplanes, build houses, or whatever.  The concern was life, stability, and building a world that would be better for the next generation.  My, my, oh my, how times have changed in the Shire.

Today there is an exponential growth in services, provided for the most part by aspiring entrepreneurs.  When Frodo and Sam depart by motorcar for Lake Lovey, Miss Ellyn visits their home daily in the Shire to tend to the needs of Beau Neau and Sydney, neither of whom travel well.  When the Hobbits depart for air travel, then Georgia, Fiona, and Mick, the Wonder Dog, go to visit Miss Trish at Camp Kennel (where they partake of "bug juice," salute the flag, and learn camp songs).   Miss Charlotte tends to Frodo's mail and business correspondence during all of these absences.  Each has formed their own enterprise which allows them a whole new set of rules for life.

Frodo brings this up because he has been confronted by another such enterprise, and is agog at the ingenuity and the results.  Sam determined that the closets in the Shire were "a mess," and that something had to be done.  Frodo recognized the problem, but was not intimidated, suggesting that they merely throw away all the stuff that was Sam's, thereby reducing the spatial requirements.  Sam did not see that as a practical remedy (see Lorena Bobbit in the preceeding discussion).  Sam did, however, somehow, find an entrepreneur to "re-design" closet space.  Frodo's query if the guy got his start in kitchens, or basements, or garages, was met by the steeley glare of someone who considered himself a true closet professional.  Frodo hesitated in making any comment about a person beginning in closets, and coming out.

Frodo is, quite frankly, amazed at the results.  There seems to be a logical place for everything, and the available space appears to be significantly increased.  Frodo notes that this is one more service, such as those identified above, that never existed a mere half-century ago.  Entrepreneurs, of all kinds, have found opportunity in service to the changes in consumer lifestyle.  It is almost enough to make the Hobbit proud of the ingenuity of the post-War generation.

Then he noticed that his tee shirt, autographed by Dale Murphy, was missing.  His collection of broken fishing lures is not where it is supposed to be, and his complete set of 8th Grade English compositions is apparently lost to history.  Surely Gollum has had a hand in this outrage.  

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:39 PM EDT

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Mood:  cheeky

Lorena Bobbit and David Vitter, need Frodo say anymore?

The first Republican United States Senator in the State of Louisiana since Reconstruction may become the last Republican United States Senator of Louisiana, ever.  David Vitter, a Roman Catholic, who has campaigned on behalf of "traditional family values," and who identified "gay marriage" as the single biggest problem confronting America today (considering that the aftermath of Katrina and the Pre-Emptive War remain omnipresent), today came forth publicly with the information that his telephone number appears in the records of the "DC Madam."  This occurred only a few hours after a legal representative of "Hustler" Magazine publisher Larry Flynt contacted Vitter's office.  A few hours later, the "Canal Street Madam" issued a release to the press that David Vitter's presence in her establishment is also available for public scrutiny.

Vitter, elected from his Congressional seat into a Senate seat in 2004, told his audience that he had made his indiscretions ("sin," as he called them) known to his wife beforehand.  This being the same lady, mother to four children carrying the Vitter name, who stated in 2000 that she would conduct action similar to that of Lorena Bobbit should she become aware of this kind of behavior by her husband.

All of this occurred on the same day that the Chinese government announced that it had executed the government official, equivalent to the Head of the Food & Drug Administration in this country, responsible for tainted product brought into the market illegally.  Frodo is no fan of capital punishment, but the public display of punishment is of interest, and is certainly not inconsistent with criminal punishment in American History.  Frodo has been bothered that these days all we do is either throw a miscreant in jail, or we kill him.  There is no middle ground, as there was in colonial times, when stocks and other methods of public disgrace were utilized.  It could also be added that if the criminal happened to be a member of the Bush Administration, then punishment is anathema.

Frodo would like to suggest that perhaps Senator Vitter might offer himself up for the threatened response by the wronged spouse, and that the punishment take place publicly.  Frodo describes the probable setting as Jackson Square in the City of Orleans, perhaps utilizing the same lights and stage used by the Incomparable Moron when he promised re-building after Katrina.  Would it not be fitting that a dickless politician's podium be used to confirm another?

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:04 PM EDT

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Mood:  vegas lucky

Frodo is a teller of tales and a great fan of the seemingly trivial.  The trivial often reflect upon the times, and are determining variables in the behavior of those who tell the tales.  Frodo can name the sponsors of "The Howdy Doody Show," simply because he watched every one of the commercials for "Tootsie Roll Pops" and "Wonder Bread" whenever Mr. Bluster and Princess Summerfallwinterspring appeared on his black-and-white.  One of the marketing mavens of the day, previously referenced by Frodo, was Mr. Ron Popeil.  Dear reader, remember him as the creative entrepreneur behind the "Veg-O-Matic" and the "Pocket Fisherman?"  Well, it seems that Ron is back in the news, and his return illuminates the shadowy world of high finance aand privileged investment.

Ron Popeil started his business in 1958, often appearing in late night TV advertisements himself.  He sold his company, Ronco, for $56 Million in 2005 to a group of private investors ("private equity" as it is known) headed by a Mr. Richard Allen, who was advised on the purchase by the TEXAS-based investment bank SMH (which was probably Mr. Allen's first mistake, giving credence to a bunch of formerly drunken "Hook 'em Horns" frat boys from the worst state university not a member of the Southeastern Conference).  In court papers Allen alleged that the investment bankers had neglected to advise him that Ronco only had $250,000 in cash at the time of the sale (free advice from Frodo to Mr. Allen, did you ever consider asking?).  Allen further alleged that the investment bank then named one of its' own partners, John Reiland, as CEO of Ronco, in order to "cover up" their lack of due diligence in recommending the sale.  Allen, it should be noted, had been CEO when the sale was completed, but the rest of the investors got together and canned him, thus naming Reiland to the post.  

Ronco filed for Chapter XI bankruptcy last month.  Another private equity firm, Marlin Equity Partners, has agreed to acquire the assets of Ronco at auction for $10 Million.  Roughly speaking, this means that Allen and his former friends lost almost $50 Million because they bought a company that was unable to either dice vegetables or catch fish.

Frodo notes a certain similarity to a group of greedy TEXANS who felt they would be greeted like heroes, and whose expenses would be covered by the sale of the oil that was liberated from prior management.  The losses in this case however, are in the billions of dollars, and in thousands of lives.

Why would anyone take advice from a TEXAN?

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 11:20 AM EDT

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Mood:  chatty

Frodo has read nearly all of the collected writings of James Michener.  Geology, history, romance, mystery, adventure, intrigue, all in some of the most remote locales on planet Earth, and beyond ("Space" took the reader into the cellestial.  The exception being "Texas," which Frodo never finished, reflecting the fact that no one is capable of a home run every time at bat.  Frodo has just finished what will long prove to be the most provocative of his books, "Caravans."  He found that his interest in this particular book is not unshared.

"Caravans" is set in Afghanistan in 1946.  In brief, the story centers about a 20-something from the US State Department who is dispatched to locate a young debutante from the Main Line of Philadelphia and Bryn Mawr who has "run away" with an Afghani Engineering student to this unknown land.  Given the sequence of historical events since 1946, and the importance of Afghanistan in today's world, Frodo was excited by a Micheneresque preview of modern-day political happenings.  Michener wrote the book 17 years after the setting of the book, and he spent considerable effort translating the world as it existed at that time.  Michener died 10 years ago, and felt, even then, that he would like to again return to this the place he felt to be the most interesting destination on our small blue planet.

Michener blew it.  In 1963 Michener felt that there would be a continuing struggle for Afghanistan between the United States and the Soviet Union.  By his death in 1997. he obviously was aware that his less-than prescient model of the modern world had a few holes.  What that meant was that the emerging technology and development he foresaw has not happened.  The "mullahs" whom he saw as anachronistic and a weakening force in the new Afghanistan emerged far stronger than the internationally-educated engineers and leaders.

What Michener did right however, was to paint a picture of the diverse peoples of the region.  Uzbeks, Sunnis, Kochis, and Tajiks and the role of their women, wearing the chaderi, and how they interacted with the FERENGI.  "Star Trek" fans will note the derivation of the alien populace characterized for their chicanery in business dealings with the Federation.  The word "ferengi" is Afghan for "alien."  The US State Department protagonist was a "ferengi."  Had he stayed on course with the importance of religion, and its time-honored habits, he would have been less optimistic about the impending future progress in the region.  He made the error of postulating his beliefs about Afghanistan to the entire Middle East.  Frodo thinks Michener would be very, very disappointed at the turn of events brought on by others who also miscalculated. 

Frodo, as he does often, purchased the paperback at his favorite "used bookstore."  At least two others, according to handwritten notes in the margins, read the same book for similar reasons.  Curious it is that people have reached out to sources they have trusted to discover truth and understanding.  Perhaps it says something very poignant about how very little confidence exists in those charged with such responsibility by governments?  Governments come and go, but the caravans will continue their trek through history.   Now, at least, we know who the Ferengi truly are.    

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:22 PM EDT

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