My First Guest Author

(AP Photo/Ben Curtis)

  I fully realize I've crossed a line and broken my own rule. Always wanting No Cobwebs Here to bring a smile, a chuckle, or in some small way be a bright spot in your day, I've steered clear of current events, politics and most things controversial. 

  But, to say I've lately been terribly troubled by the Islamic extremism surfacing on U.S. soil is a wild understatement. I also hadn't expected the death of Ambassador Chris Stevens to affect me so deeply. So, when I read this piece below by Paul E. Marek, I felt compelled to re-print it here. 

   I promise this to be a rarity. Although some may have seen this coming. After all, how long can you expect me to study the strategies of women such as the radical suffragist Alice Paul without at some point wanting to step into the fray? History has much to teach us.

    And, on the chance I get to meet Alice Paul when I cross the pearly gates, I wouldn't want her first words to me to be, "Really! All that writing and talking and you never tried to make a real difference?"

  Yes, Alice. I tried.

Why the Peaceful Majority
is Irrelevant

  History lessons are often incredibly simple.

  I used to know a man whose family were German aristocracy prior to World War II. They owned a number of large industries and estates. I asked him how many German people were true Nazis, and the answer he gave has stuck with me and guided my attitude toward fanaticism ever since.

  “Very few people were true Nazis,” he said, “but many enjoyed the return of German pride, and many more were too busy to care. I was one of those who just thought the Nazis were a bunch of fools. So, the majority just sat back and let it all happen. Then, before we knew it, they owned us, and we had lost control, and the end of the world had come. My family lost everything. I ended up in a concentration camp and the Allies destroyed my factories.”

  We are told again and again by experts and talking heads that Islam is the religion of peace, and that the vast majority of Muslims just want to live in peace. Although this unquantified assertion may be true, it is entirely irrelevant. It is meaningless fluff, meant to make us feel better, and meant to somehow diminish the specter of fanatics rampaging across the globe in the name of Islam.

  The fact is that the fanatics rule Islam at this moment in history. It is the fanatics who march. It is the fanatics who wage any one of 50 shooting wars world wide. It is the fanatics who systematically slaughter Christian or tribal groups throughout Africa and are gradually taking over the entire continent in an Islamic wave. It is the fanatics who bomb, behead, murder, or execute honor killings. It is the fanatics who take over mosque after mosque. It is the fanatics who zealously spread the stoning and hanging of rape victims and homosexuals. The hard, quantifiable fact is that the “peaceful majority” is the “silent majority,” and it is cowed and extraneous.

  Communist Russia was comprised of Russians who just wanted to live in peace, yet the Russian Communists were responsible for the murder of about 20 million people. The peaceful majority were irrelevant. China’s huge population was peaceful as well, but Chinese Communists managed to kill a staggering 70 million people. The average Japanese individual prior to World War II was not a war-mongering sadist. Yet, Japan murdered and slaughtered its way across Southeast Asia in an orgy of killing that included the systematic murder of 12 million Chinese civilians - most killed by sword, shovel and bayonet. And who can forget Rwanda, which collapsed into butchery? Could it not be said that the majority of Rwandans were “peace loving”?

  History lessons are often incredibly simple and blunt; yet, for all our powers of reason, we often miss the most basic and uncomplicated of points. Peace-loving Muslims have been made irrelevant by the fanatics. Peace-loving Muslims have been made irrelevant by their silence. Peace-loving Muslims will become our enemy if they don’t speak up, because, like my friend from Germany, they will awaken one day and find that the fanatics own them, and the end of their world will have begun.

  Peace-loving Germans, Japanese, Chinese, Russians, Rwandans, Bosnians, Afghanis, Iraqis, Palestinians, Somalis, Nigerians, Algerians and many others, have died because the peaceful majority did not speak up until it was too late. As for us, watching it all unfold, we must pay attention to the only group that counts: the fanatics who threaten our way of life.

This article first appearred in http://www.israelnationalnews.com 

Paul E. Marek is a second-generation Canadian, whose grandparents fled Czechoslovakia just prior to the Nazi takeover. He is an educational consultant specializing in programs that protect children from predatory adults.

Letting Go of the Stuff

  
  My house is in shambles. Items long safely tucked away, tightly stacked, quietly hidden and sometimes forgotten have seen the light of day and been made to plead their case. It's been a roller coaster week for one with only a dim recollection of the joys a basement brings and who prides herself on keeping newly useless items rolling out the door. I've alternately been dismayed, delighted, teary eyed, dewie and lost in reminiscences.

  I've also engaged in fierce debates with myself. I quickly realized some of my arguments wouldn't last a heartbeat in a true debate.

  For instance: When you collect antiques you cannot decide to be rid of one simply because it's old. It was old when you bought it. It's partly why you bought it.

  You can see my dilemma, can't you? It was necessary to develop a new set of parameters to help me make the cutthroat decisions needing to be made. I came up with several categories and items on the stand had to fall into one of them in order to remain in my household. I share some with you in the hopes you, too, may  find them helpful...

1. The Punch Bowl Category: You rarely need a punch bowl, but when you do - and sooner or later you will - nothing else will do. This rule does completely negate the long established "If you haven't used it or worn it in a year, it must go" rule. And yes, egg plates are a gray area here. Thankfully, I've only one egg plate anyway.

2. The Yes, I've At Least Got the Fabric or Upcoming Event Category: While long ago I learned to never buy a partial outfit when shopping, I clearly never applied that knowledge to my hat purchases. I've far too many hats for which I was going to make a vintage reproduction gown. If the fabric isn't already in my stash or the event on my calender, said hat was asked to take a seat on the other side of the room. This was an especially brutal morning.

3. It's Really a Sub-Category of Items I'm Fond Of Category: Decorator teapots, 1-person teapots, chocolate pots are among the items falling into this lot. This was especially helpful and not nearly as painful as I had first imagined.
 
 You get the idea. I momentarily considered a Would You Grab It If You Had to Flee Category, but that's just silly. I'd be getting rid of all but 32 of my teapots!

  I'm hoping to have this sale up and going early next week. I'll keep you posted!

Stuff

  Things. Treasures. Junk. Possessions. Trappings. Synonyms abound for what we choose to wrap our lives with.
  Whatever we call it, our stuff says much about us. But our stuff can also teach us...stuff.
  My Grandmother's stuff gave me my first lesson. When it became necessary for me to go through her home and deal with her stuff, I tried giving some of the best of it to her friends.
  "Honey," they told me, "We're trying to get rid of our own stuff. We don't want any more things."
  My Grandmother - like myself - had been a collector. She treasured her stuff. For no one to want it? That would have been hard for her to take. And if she knew certain of her offspring would eventually be smashing her collectible Japanese plates for mosaics? Well, some of us are fortunate we're not haunted by Mrs. L. Stinson.
  The possibility that my own children might not want my treasures had never before occurred to me.
  Pause while I see my trappings in a different light.
  Moving from Portland, Oregon to Fort Myers Beach provided opportunities for my own stuff to throw a lesson my way. While never one for the arranged clutter one sees in magazines such as Country Living and Shabby Chic, there did come a more minimalist sense of decor as things were put in boxes over the course of several months. I liked it.
  This surprised me mightily because I had long been leery of minimalists. What does a minimalist DO in their home? It's as if they're prepared to bolt at a moment's notice. I'm guessing a good many are in the witness protection program.
  Although my 60 plus teapots tend to belie it, I've since made certain bare surfaces are welcome in my home.
  My love of collecting antique stuff had me leaning towards haughty. I've never been one to fling myself into a furniture store or a Target for my stuff. I SEARCH for it in places specializing in yesteryear. My stuff has PROVENANCE. It has MEANING. It CALLS to me.
  This, of course, is all a crock.
  And, pause as I realize my stuff had hoodwinked me.
  In an effort to brush up on letting go, I give away a favorite vintage hat.
  I still wish I hadn't done that. The hat really did suit me and it had once belonged to...well, never mind.
  Letting go is a worthy end. And to that end, more stuff must go. It's time to lighten my load.
  But, I can't make myself host a garage sale - mostly because when people want to dicker with me on a .25 item, my first impulse is to throw the item at them while crying out, "Are you kidding me! Just take the ^%&#@ thing!"
  I think, though, that a Facebook sale may be on the horizon. 
  I do have some awesome stuff by the way. Some of it came from an old...again, never mind.