Tuesday, June 27, 2017

WHEN THE PROTAGONIST IS EXCUSED FROM RESPONSIBILITY

The world is in trouble!  There is no way to sugar coat or overstate the reality.  Put otherwise, it would be a lie - and we are taught that it is immoral to lie.  Pick any Continent and a careful  look at one or two countries in that Continent provides an open window into the state of that Continent and, by extension, the state of our world.  Starting with North America, the United States of America has as President a petulant being in the physical body of an adult male.  In Europe, the United Kingdom is popping at the seams, since the country has been exposed as a pretentious, ideas-deprived, hypocritical and xenophobic nation.  That exposure came as a surprise to most people in the U.K. largely because the country’s leaders, like too many of those that they lead, seemed to have been too self-absorbed to know that not only is the world now interconnected but that the arrogant claim that the sun could never set on the British Empire is now quaint and no longer holds sway.  But the UK is only one of numerous self-injured countries in Europe that are struggling to stay afloat in an increasingly crazy world. 

Except for a tiny few, all African countries are in tatters, riddled by a long record of leaders who have consistently looted the treasuries of their countries while keeping the poor and middle class oppressed and hungry.  This is the story of Nigeria and the story that South Africa is writing about herself.  In fact, this is the dominant story of Africa’s sociopolitical and economic history.  In Australia, the Aborigines who were dispossessed of their land are treated as inferior humans in their own homeland by the same people who stole their country from them; the same people who now perceive of undocumented immigrants as worthless criminals deserving of inhumane treatment.  South America is replete with banana republics, thanks to decades of irresponsible leadership.  A country as rich in oil as Venezuela has been brought to its knees by decades of terrible leadership coated in dangerous rhetoric and a political ideology that was never a fit for the country.   In Asia, North Korea is led by a man-boy who seems to perceive of the world as the playground for whatever evil machinations can take residence in his mind.      

To the extent that a protagonist is the central figure in a factual story, a national political leader is a protagonist in the writing and telling of the story of the country and people that he/she is in office to represent.  To the extent that a protagonist is also supposed to be the champion of a cause, political leaders are supposed to champion the cause of progress for their countries and fellow citizens.  Unfortunately, the world is currently chock-full of leaders whose abilities are limited only to writing and telling stories that debase humanity.  Equally bad is the fact that most of the world’s leaders are champions only of themselves, their families and a few sycophants that could not survive otherwise.

The fact that our world has been shattered by an incredible amount of selfish and irresponsible political leaders is not in doubt.  But society’s complicity in this crime should also not be in doubt.  In every situation where national leaders have failed (and are failing) their countries, there have always been too many people helping to prop them up.  How oppressed citizens, foreign institutions, the wealthy and religious leaders wittingly and unwittingly connive to maintain destructive protagonists in position is a reality that defies reasonable explanation.  Yet, that is now the mix that provides cover for failed protagonists.  As a consequence, political leaders can do anything they please, however immoral, and they get away with it because the people who defend them will always do so even at the expense of their own integrity.  For as long as that cover remains to excuse political leaders from the consequences of their actions, for so long will our world remain in trouble.  If you ask me, the clouds are only thickening. 

Sunday, April 9, 2017

Beatrice Bosede Omolodun, nee Gbenebor (1949-2017): A Life, A Light And A Transition Like Few Others

World War II began on September 1, 1939.  The seeds of that war were planted and grown in the dark, hateful dark minds of one political leader and his followers.  The world stood aside as he selected for extinction categories of people that he considered undesirable despite the fact that their (and his) Maker had not and would never reject His own creation.  World War II eventually became a protracted global war that remains the most widespread war ever fought in the history of the world. Exactly 6 years and 1 day later (that is, on September 2, 1945, the Second World War came to an end.  However, even as the chorus chant "Never again!" made its way into the expressed consciousness of people around the world, the heart of man did not change and most likely never will.  That chant was the product of a new war-weary and guilt-ridden world that was determined to be a better place for posterity by promoting love over hate, dialog over verbal and/or physical squabbles and peace over war. That was the world into which my beloved sister, Beatrice Bosede Omolodun (nee Gbenebor), was born on May 23, 1949. 

Fondly called "Aunty B", "Sister Bose" or "Sister B" by everyone, Mrs. Beatrice Omolodun was no ordinary human.  She and I did not have the same parents but I know of nobody that knew her who would say that she treated any of her biological siblings better than she treated me or anyone else.  Sister B was a selfless epitome of Christianity but I never once heard her speak about her religion or her Baptist church as a factor that made her more religious than anyone or as stool that placed her higher than anyone else; nor did she wear her faith as a decorative symbol.  Her actions spoke her beliefs.

Born into a world that was desperately in need of people that truly cared about others and loved genuinely, Sister B loved and gave without expecting anything in return. She touched more lives in her native Nigeria and the United States, where the bulk of her life was spent,  than is hardly possible even for the best of humanity. But, again, she was no ordinary human. Despite her high level of education, she served even the least of society with grace and humility.  With a heart of gold and a remarkable personality to match, she did an incredible amount of good without wearing her goodness on her sleeve or flying it as a flag.  

Despite being widowed just a few years ago, Aunty B remained unbowed and unbroken either by that loss or by her cancer diagnosis  which took us all by shock and dismay.  She fought cancer with resolve and determination and remained a constant encouragement even when we all knew what was coming.  On April 1, 2017, my brother Peter (who is Sister Bose's biological brother) sent a text message at 4:30 AM to inform me that Sister B had just been hospitalized within the last few hours. When we talked shortly afterwards, we both knew that the end had come for her and it was just a question of time before she would breathe her last breath. The next day, I received a text from Peter that I had expected but wished would not come, and which he wished he would never need to send.  The words were few but sharp: "Sister Bose passed away peacefully  this evening. We are heartbroken but glad that she feels no more pain from that awful ailment. Thanks for your kind thoughts and prayers", he wrote. 

At age 67, Sister Bose, who would have turned 68 next month, lived and impacted her world in a way that most people have never been able to do even at 100.  As I think of her, which I have done constantly over the past week, I have many unexpressed wishes.  I am also conscious of many realities and of my responsibility to be thankful to God for the opportunity to have hard as part of the cycle of my life a woman who displayed passion in loving and served others as if the only person watching was her God. By so doing, she may have fulfilled the purpose for which she was born and has hopefully left the living with a sense of responsibility to live passionately, lovingly, peacefully and honorably in service to others.  No wonder, Raleigh, North Carolina is about to host more people (there to mourn one person) on a weekend than it has done in a long time. 

Peter and the entire Gbenbor/Edwards/Irhabor family know better than anyone else that Sister Bose was a very rare human object and a glue that even the luckiest of families should feel blessed to experience once. Having been so blessed by her huge presence, the family now faces the dim reality of her passing.  If this is any consolation, Sister B is whole again and resting where most of aspire to arrive when our time here is spent.  The challenge of living earnestly and impacting our world, as she did, now belongs to all of us, including you - her biological family.  

Adieu, Sister Bose!  Goodbye, Aunty B!!  May your remarkable soul rest in perfect peace. 

Beatrice Bosede Omolodun, nee Gbenebor (1949-2017): A Life, A Light And A Transition Like Few Others

World War II began on September 1, 1939.  The seeds of that war were planted and grown in the dark, hateful dark minds of one political leader and his followers.  The world stood aside as he selected for extinction categories of people that he considered undesirable despite the fact that their (and his) Maker had not and would never reject His own creation.  World War II eventually became a protracted global war that remains the most widespread war ever fought in the history of the world. Exactly 6 years and 1 day later (that is, on September 2, 1945, the Second World War came to an end.  However, even as the chorus chant "Never again!" made its way into the expressed consciousness of people around the world, the heart of man did not change and most likely never will.  That chant was the product of a new war-weary and guilt-ridden world that was determined to be a better place for posterity by promoting love over hate, dialog over verbal and/or physical squabbles and peace over war. That was the world into which my beloved sister, Beatrice Bosede Omolodun (nee Gbenebor), was born on May 23, 1949. 

Fondly called "Aunty B", "Sister Bose" or "Sister B" by everyone, Mrs. Beatrice Omolodun was no ordinary human.  She and I did not have the same parents but I know of nobody that knew her who would say that she treated any of her biological siblings better than she treated me or anyone else.  Sister B was a selfless epitome of Christianity but I never once heard her speak about her religion or her Baptist church as a factor that made her more religious than anyone or as stool that placed her higher than anyone else; nor did she wear her faith as a decorative symbol.  Her actions spoke her beliefs.

Born into a world that was desperately in need of people that truly cared about others and loved genuinely, Sister B loved and gave without expecting anything in return. She touched more lives in her native Nigeria and the United States, where the bulk of her life was spent,  than is hardly possible even for the best of humanity. But, again, she was no ordinary human. Despite her high level of education, she served even the least of society with grace and humility.  With a heart of gold and a remarkable personality to match, she did an incredible amount of good without wearing her goodness on her sleeve or flying it as a flag.  

Despite being widowed just a few years ago, Aunty B remained unbowed and unbroken either by that loss or by her cancer diagnosis  which took us all by shock and dismay.  She fought cancer with resolve and determination and remained a constant encouragement even when we all knew what was coming.  On April 1, 2017, my brother Peter (who is Sister Bose's biological brother) sent a text message at 4:30 AM to inform me that Sister B had just been hospitalized within the last few hours. When we talked shortly afterwards, we both knew that the end had come for her and it was just a question of time before she would breathe her last breath. The next day, I received a text from Peter that I had expected but wished would not come, and which he wished he would never need to send.  The words were few but sharp: "Sister Bose passed away peacefully  this evening. We are heartbroken but glad that she feels no more pain from that awful ailment. Thanks for your kind thoughts and prayers", he wrote. 

At age 67, Sister Bose, who would have turned 68 next month, lived and impacted her world in a way that most people have never been able to do even at 100.  As I think of her, which I have done constantly over the past week, I have many unexpressed wishes.  I am also conscious of many realities and of my responsibility to be thankful to God for the opportunity to have hard as part of the cycle of my life a woman who displayed passion in loving and served others as if the only person watching was her God. By so doing, she may have fulfilled the purpose for which she was born and has hopefully left the living with a sense of responsibility to live passionately, lovingly, peacefully and honorably in service to others.  No wonder, Raleigh, North Carolina is about to host more people (there to mourn one person) on a weekend than it has done in a long time. 

Peter and the entire Gbenbor/Edwards/Irhabor family know better than anyone else that Sister Bose was a very rare human object and a glue that even the luckiest of families should feel blessed to experience once. Having been so blessed by her huge presence, the family now faces the dim reality of her passing.  If this is any consolation, Sister B is whole again and resting where most of aspire to arrive when our time here is spent.  The challenge of living earnestly and impacting our world, as she did, now belongs to all of us, including you - her biological family.  

Adieu, Sister Bose!  Goodbye, Aunty B!!  May your remarkable soul rest in perfect peace. 

Monday, February 6, 2017

The Day Nigerians Killed Democracy - by Godwin Ohiwerei, Ph.D


Elections belong to the people. It's their decision. If they decide to turn their back on the fire and burn their behinds, then they will just have to sit on their blisters.”
― Abraham Lincoln

As I watched the return of James Onanefe Ibori, the former Delta State governor who became the international symbol of Nigerian corruption, tried and jailed in the United Kingdom in 2012 welcomed back to Nigeria with such intense excitement and happiness from his Delta people, I concluded that Democracy is dead in Nigeria. I know that the same excitement will reign if any other Nigerian politician came back to his people with such ignominy as a thief. All that matter is for the politician or leader to share his loot with his people. I think of all the political sycophants in the last 16 years celebrated by their ethnic and regional folks, it begs the
question as to why democracy in Nigeria?

Democracy is dangerous when the power to vote is placed on the hands of illiterates or functional illiterates who really do not understand the consequences of a failed democracy. Isaac Asimov stated that “Anti-intellectualism has been a constant thread winding its way through our political and cultural life, nurtured by the false notion that democracy means that 'my ignorance is just as good as your knowledge.'” Such is applicable in Nigeria, where there is a cult of ignorance, and it has always been so. The strain of anti-intellectualism is pervasive and has been a constant thread winding its way through Nigerian political and cultural life, nurtured by the false notion that democracy means that 'my ignorance is just as good as your knowledge.  There is not much difference between the uneducated and the educated regarding democratic principles. Democracy cannot succeed unless those who express their choice are prepared to choose wisely. The real safeguard of democracy, therefore, is education (Franklin D. Roosevelt).

PDP destroyed Nigeria’s nascent democracy. The foundation of Democracy in Nigeria is referenced through Nigerian experience of PDP rule. Therefore as corrupt and anti intellectual as it represent, so goes Nigerian understanding of democratic expectations. When you think of how much the Federal and State governments under PDP rule borrowed and stole and worse, refused to prepare Nigeria for a future when the golden days of oil will no longer be present, you have to wonder why they can even complain of the present government slow progress towards arresting the economic crisis of the country. Nigerians expect miracles to happen; a wand, or God performing miracles over night and they wake up in the morning to see that the Naira is equal to the dollar or Euro and they can go back to their unearned flagrant ways. Nigerians actually believe that the current president is the impediment to Nigeria’s glory as a powerful economic giant. They absolve themselves from the crisis and they absolutely refuse to look at the data or completely ignorant of the fact that the last government of Goodluck Jonathan borrowed about $50 billion at a time when oil was at its highest market level of over $100 a barrel, even using borrowed money to pay government salaries. Nigerians during these periods lived on borrowed money and high oil returns and enjoyed the falsity of a dependent economy. Developed countries borrowed Nigeria money because Nigerians spend it on imports from these countries. Nigeria could not and cannot feed without food import in a country with abundant green vegetation where the illiterate farmer in the village is more productive than a Nigerian graduate.
TODAY THE PROBLEM IS: HOW DO YOU CONVINCE A DEPENDENT POPULATION TO NOW WORK HARD AND EARN THEIR WAY RATHER THAN LIVE A LIFE WHERE THE GOVERNMENT OPERATES ON SUBSIDY AND BORROWED WEALTH?  A lot of Nigerians will not buy local products but rely on imported goods which require foreign exchange. Unfortunately, the ones who have nothing to contribute to the economy use social media to vent and at the end make no contribution. To make democracy work, we must be a nation of participants, not simply observers.
Nigeria can learn a lesson from Charlie Chaplin who articulated the following:

I'm sorry, but I don't want to be an emperor. That's not my business. I don't want to rule or  conquer anyone. I should like to help everyone if possible; Jew, Gentile, black man, white. We all want to help one another. Human beings are like that. We want to live by each other's happiness, not by each other's misery. We don't want to hate and despise one another. In this world there is room for everyone, and the good earth is rich and can provide for everyone. The way of life can be free and beautiful, but we have lost the way. Greed has poisoned men's souls and has barricaded the world with hate, and goose-stepped us into misery and bloodshed. We have developed speed, but we have shut ourselves in. Machinery that gives abundance has left us in want. Our knowledge has made us cynical; our cleverness, hard and unkind. We think too much and feel too little. More than machinery, we need humanity. More than cleverness, we need kindness and gentleness. Without these qualities, life will be violent and all will be lost. The airplane and the radio have brought us closer together. The very nature of these inventions cries out for the goodness in men; cries out for universal brotherhood; for the unity of us all. Even now my voice is reaching millions throughout the world, millions of despairing men, women, and little children, victims of a system that makes men torture and imprison innocent people. To those who can hear me, I say, do not despair. The misery that is now upon us is but the passing of greed, the bitterness of men who fear the way of human progress. The hate of men will pass, and dictators die, and the power they took from the people will return to the people. And so long as men die, liberty will never perish.
Remember, democracy never lasts long. It soon wastes, exhausts, and murders itself. There never was a democracy yet that did not commit suicide (John Adams).

Saturday, December 31, 2016

MORTALITY'S GAZE

Cancer has claimed two of my friends over the last 5 months.  Both were very accomplished career women, deeply spiritual, and with hearts of gold that led them to serve the less privileged with humility despite the status they occupied in their professional careers.  Several weeks before the first died, we had the opportunity to thank one another for the quality of friendship that we had both given each other. We bid one another farewell and promised that we would see each other in heaven. The last time I received a call from her, I had no idea that in just 5 days she would make her transition to eternity.  

When my other friend went into the hospital for some tests 2 weeks ago, even she thought that she would shortly return to her normal life, including her employment with the US government and her role in the immigrant support and advocacy organization where she and I were both volunteer board members. She was diagnosed with an advanced stage of cancer and in just a matter of days, she was gone.  Together, we (that is, all of our colleagues in the immigrant support and advocacy organization) believed in social justice and social action.  She more than I was totally committed to our cause of helping the least among us - a cause that we have consistently pursued with remarkable success.  As I sat at her funeral service tonight (less than 2 days to a new year), many unavoidable thoughts ran through my mind.  

With such amazing peers exiting the auditorium of life, the realities of aging are clearer to me than ever before.  The impermanence of living has also become more real and the shape of mortality's gaze appears increasingly evident.  What now?

Sunday, November 6, 2016

MY VOTE, MY HOPES, MY STORY: THIS PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION IS PERSONAL

On November 4, 2008, I cast my vote for then Senator Barack Obama, a very young man who was about to become President of the United States.  Less than an hour later, I set out on a journey by train.  As I sat alone on my seat in that train, I could not help thinking about what I had just done.  Deep in thought, I pulled out my phone, wrote and sent a long letter by email to my children in the hope that someday they would imagine the magnitude of what that moment in history meant for their father.  My son had just become of voting age, was in the university and would be casting his first vote in that election.  However, my daughter was still years away from being of voting age.  About 6 years later, my daughter called home from her university and asked me if I still had that letter because she was trying to locate it on her computer.  I was almost moved to tears because, although we had never discussed it, I realized at that moment that the letter had struck a cord with her. 

As I have thought of the upcoming presidential election between Secretary Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump over the last few weeks, that private and very personal letter that I aptly titled “A letter to My Children” has reverberated over and over in my mind and, with just two days now to the election, I feel an urge to share a tiny portion of the letter publicly because this nation of which I am part is once again on the cusp of history.  With so much antagonism and polarization in our midst resulting in the neglect of otherwise crucial matters, the issues that lie ahead for our nation and world are as significant, perhaps even more so than they were in 2008 when I wrote the following words to my children:

“Whatever happens now, do not allow the significance of today to be lost on you and your children. You should know, and you should let your children know, that during this period in our nation's history, your father was often overwhelmed by the realization that God blessed his son with the opportunity to cast the first presidential election vote of his life for a man who looked like him.  You should also know and let your children and grandchildren know that God also blessed your father's daughter with the opportunity to cast her first presidential vote for the same man who looks like her.  I am saying this confident that, in just hours, we and all those people who have tried over the past year and half to attack Senator Obama in very negative ways will very shortly begin to refer to him in the new title that God is about to confer on him: "Mr. President".  With that also comes the confidence that he will be running for a second term in office when you, my daughter, cast your first presidential election vote.  In raising you, we have focused on the word of God and have emphasized the importance of seeking God's kingdom and helping the less privileged.  This is why we are Democrats…”

To me, this election is personal.  Many years ago, I met a Chicago-based American while attending a conference in Moscow, Russia.  Over the years, we have maintained a very close friendship and have developed a very tight family bond, such that we consider ourselves members of one another’s family.  She is of Mexican heritage and I am of Nigerian heritage.  Neither skin color nor ethnicity has prevented me from regarding the Villasenor family as my Chicago family or from her regarding mine as her family.  So, when Donald Trump insisted that Mexicans were “criminals and rapists”, he was referring to my people; my family.  He has had almost a year and half to apologize for that and many other insults that he hurled at individuals, groups of people and countries but he has refused to do so. A man who runs around praising and funding the persecution of people who look like me, as Mr. Trump did in regard to the “Central Park Five”, and has consistently done in cases of police brutality, must not receive a license from me to continue to destroy people.  I cannot trust a man who stiffs workers rather than pay them for their labor to enter the Oval Office and make policy decisions that benefit the less privileged.  If a man has spent his entire life degrading and disrespecting women like my daughter and boasting about his sexual assault of women, he cannot be my dinner guest and must not be the lead in most of the newscast that I watch for the next 4 years.  A man who repeatedly says that black people live in hell and does not see how that is an insult to me, and all who look like me, is too ignorant to be the leader of a world that I live in.  A man who has spent years trying to de-legitimize the presidency and citizenship of a President who looks like my son is not worthy of my embrace. 

I will step into my voting booth on Tuesday, November 8th and cast my ballot for Secretary Hillary Clinton because it is the right thing to do.  I will do so because that is the only step that is consistent with my spiritual beliefs, my status as the father of a young man and a young woman, and (God willing) a future grandfather who wants his grandchildren to live in a world that is not boundlessly infested by the hateful bigotry of Donald Trump and his supporters. Certainly, I do not agree with everything that Mrs. Clinton stands for and will not agree with all of her policies as President but she is the right person to lead this country, and the right leader that the free world needs.  Having just had a presidency that is unrivalled in its decency, maturity, sincerity and intellect in modern times, we need a presidency that will solidify and extend the gains of the last 8 years.  Of the two candidates, the only person able to do that is the one who is brilliant, caring, respectful of all, has a remarkable history of service, accepts and understands the promise of America and believes in John Wesley’s admonition to “Do all the good you can by all the means you can, in all the ways you can, in all the places you can, at all the times you can…as long as you ever can”.  That person is Hillary Rodham Clinton and I look forward to joining millions others to make her the next and first female President of the United States.

Thursday, November 3, 2016

THE SINS OF OUR FATHERS - BY PAUL INYANG

     Paul Inyang
I have been wondering about the elections and why it has been as divisive as it has been. It seems like the public has been abused to ...the extent that we are all exhausted. When Barack Obama was elected, many of us thought that America had finally turned a new leaf and we were all headed in the right direction. As far as many were concerned—the best was yet to come. He was handed the worst of circumstances since the great depression and in my mind confronted it without dwelling much on how things got so bad. Soon the drum beat of war started beating. First it was the Republican House and Senate turning themselves into the—just say no legislators. Many of us thought that there was something sinister about the brouhaha but were ready to chuck it up to political rang-lings. But it dragged on into Barrack’s second term. Having been on the other side of the aisle, I like many, labeled it just a difference of ideas—until it became obstructive.

Then the “birther” stuff reared its ugly head. I never knew that birther was even a word until now that it is part of the political lexicon. How the hell does one question the birth place/rights of a president? The President had to “prove” that he is American. It has never happened in the history of this great nation (please someone correct me if I am wrong). No president and I repeat, no president has been subjected to such ignominy. Are there people in this great land who are not immigrants other that the Native Americans (Indians) whose birth right was stolen from them—yes, they were robbed. Who owns this land If I may ask? Many stood by, black and white and watched the birther issue grow. From the pulpits to the Pugh—very few spoke up in defense of the president or the presidency. Until some guy in an oversized suit that was made in Mexico, pronounced himself arbiter. He judged himself the ender of the issue—suggesting someone else started it all. There were those, who before now claimed omnipotence—who stood by nodding their heads in resounding agreement. What a con job!

When you thought that you had heard it all, black, brown and yellow people were lumped together and dumped into the dustbin of miscreant—my African American he said. The last time someone said that—they were called “maser”. That was ended by the ironically by the great President Lincoln. Mexicans/Hispanic of course bore the brunt of the rubbish being spewed out. Some even suggested that the internment of Japanese Americans during the Second World War was good for the country. So let’s build a big wall and turn America into a big internment camp. Oh, by the way, we do not need one for the northern border—I suppose they look too much like the majority. The people down south are the problem—they are thieves, robbers, drug pushers, and rapist—by the way, they impregnate young white women. Oh, all these colored folks—they are the trouble in America—the “big problem”.

Then came women, how they dare aspire to be president. So what will we call her, Madam President? No, she is a crooked, bleeding, indecent liar and an enabler. Worst yet, she can speak and run rings around our red-meat eating nominee. What effrontery! Women after all “wink, wink” are supposed to hit the “glass ceiling”, recognize it and know their place. Of course, they are supposed to be assaulted, groped and treated as indecently as one can get away with, especially, if they the transgressors are celebrities and rich—rich in everything but character. Locker room talk? President Carter in an interview with playboy once said; "I've looked on a lot of women with lust. I've committed adultery in my heart many times”—to which Art Buchwald responded; that America now has a president that does not “do it” but commits “lust” in his heart. If we are unlucky, we will have one that only assaults and gropes with his hand.

I forgot we must “Make America Great Again”. What do we really mean here besides the obvious? When did this great country lose its shine? The oval office got a little darker and the population got a little more diverse. Did they not hear old saying that “once you go black you cannot go back again”? Yes, I think you all can surmise what this means. America will forever be diverse—that is not about to change. Hate has never been a recipe for greatness. If you doubt me, ask Adolph Hitler wherever he is. The world has rejected this principle before led by one great nation—the United States of America. More recently, the Twin Towers were blown up—since then Osama Bin Laden is dead (thanks to Barrack) and New York has been rebuilt better than ever—standing on the graves of the innocent. Yes, America is GREAT and we do not need to re-brand or sully that image. The land of the free, that is the yearning of everyone in the world and stands alone because of what it stands for and most of all—freedom. That is greatness in my book by any measure!

Check this out—a woman is about to run this great country and America will remain great. Go vote your conscience, whatever that is and let us have a conversation about getting along after this elections. God bless the new president who ever she is!