The Homosexual Agenda

There is a pervasive homosexual agenda in America today.

I believe it is one thing to adopt a same-gender mindset for one’s self, but I believe it is an altogether different thing to promote this (what I consider to be) aberrant, and ungodly lifestyle.

And yet the promotion of the homosexual agenda is rampant in today’s America.All we have to do is look around us, (and most of the “looking around us” involves the promotion of the agenda by the television and movie industries).

One of the earlier examples is represented by the movie, “Brokeback Mountain,” in which two cowboys fall in love with one another, and do whatever homosexual cowboys are prone to do. And in the past few weeks there is a similar movie out which has as its theme a sexual relationship between a younger woman and an older one.

Lately, there are the commercials. One television ad by Advil or a similar medicinal corporation assures the public of its support for, and understanding of the choices people make in terms of singleness, heterosexual marriage, or a husband/husband or wife/wife relationship. Another commercial by Sonic Corporation features two men in a car; apparently waiting on their food to be brought out. And while no words are spoken about the homosexual lifestyle, it is all too apparent that these men are homosexual lovers.

And then, as I sat down tonight to enjoy one of my favorite television serials, “Call the Midwife,” a scene came up which caught me totally unprepared. Two young men have just finished “doing their business” in a public restroom, and are washing their hands. Suddenly, one man reaches for a stack of paper towels between them. And just as suddenly, the other man grasps his hand, takes him into his arms, and plants a passionate kiss right on his lips.

I mean, give me a break.

We cannot go anywhere where the homosexual agenda fails to figuratively slap us in the face. Schools promote this lifestyle, as a perfectly acceptable, alternate choice. The military has come away from its “Don’t Ask. Don’t Tell” policy, and even offers housing allowance, survivor benefits, etc. to the same gender spouses of its service members. If and when a minister or public figure is interviewed on television, and he or she comes out against the homosexual lifestyle, the vast majority of moderators come down hard against his or her supposed bigotry.

I believe our founding fathers would be mortified if they were somehow given the opportunity to spend a few days in the country they established, and loved so well.

Political Correctness has run a muck.


By William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from "(Mc)Donald's Daily Diary" Vol. 26. Copyright pending

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Remincences of the War Between the States by a Boy in the Far South...

The following excerpt is taken from “Remincences Of The War Between The States By A Boy In The Far South At Home And In The Confederate Militia,” by Joshua Frier, (my 3x great Uncle). The original manuscript is housed in the Florida State Archives.

In this particular segment of his journal, Joshua recounts the story of his brother Samuel’s desertion from the military, and his subsequent murder by the Confederate Army. 

It might be noted that my 3x great Grandfather Ryan Frier’s family (Joshua’s and Samuel’s father) were pro-union, but living in the south, and for purposes of their own self-preservation, they felt compelled to take part in hostilities against the federal government. Joshua notes here that the murder of his brother embittered the family even more against the southern cause which they felt compelled to support, and they continued to hope that a quick end would be in the offing.

(Errors in spelling and punctuation have been left intact. Too many men and women of this era were illiterate. Joshua, at least, had significant literary skills, and for the time his reading and writing abilities were more exceptional than most).

“… but there seemed no relief except by substitute and the price of this commodity was so high untill it was a luxury only for the rich. Ultimately it was decided the onely thing that could be done under the circumstances was for him (my ggg uncle Samuel) and a nephew who was allso of proper age to enlist which they reluctantly did in the 8^th Fla. Infantry. Shortly afterwards that organization was ordered to Virgina. Our nephew went and shortly after yielded up his life at Antitem. The idea of going so far away from home preyed upon my brother’s Samuele (this name was marked out in the original) mind untill he deserted; he remained concealed in different portion of the State for a bout a year. When a house that him and two other men resting under a like charge was in, was surrounded, and without being asked to surrender; a rifle ball was sent through his heart by a creature that claimed to be a confederate Soldier. This occured on the 17 day of Oct. 1863 in Irwin county Georgia, and but a few miles from the spot where Jefferson Davis was captured. I remember when the last-named event took place some of the family remarked that if seemed the hand of Providence was in it, that the nominal head of a government should be captured allmost on the spot where the same Government had willfuly murdered one of our family less than two years before. The other two men, George Paulk, and Lenord Slaughter was captured and sent to the front where they died before the surender.

After brother Samuel (again marked out) was killed the reader may naturaly supose thay our family loyalty was not what it even was before. Yet hampered by a strong central Government, that seemed disposed to act in such a promt, and vigorous maner, self presevation demanded that no outward show, or demonstration would be wise. So we went along in the even tenor of our way; bearing as it seemed an unusualy heavy part of the burden that the war laid on every ones shoulders…”

OLD TOM

My wife and I visited the Polk County Heritage Museum today; a genealogical library we have often visited in the past, and which my father frequented in his prime.

And it so happened that while we were there, I came across a large binder of photographs taken of my hometown of Bartow; over the course of the past century and a half. And among the hundreds of pictures in the collection was one which peaked my interest, like few photographic images have ever done.

A small, brown mule hitched to a cart with the following caption: (my paraphrase)

“Old Tom was a working mule; sired in Polk County, Florida about 1883. He was brought to Bartow, Florida in 1889 to help lay the first paved streets in that city. These early roadways were made up of white phosphatic clay.

The attached photograph was made on March 26, 1918 when ‘Old Tom’ was approximately thirty five (35) years of age; having worked for the city for 29 years at the time the picture was taken. How much longer the old mule worked or lived is unknown. The photo was given to Mrs. Vesta Blood by Chester Wiggins, Polk County Judge. ‘Old Tom,’ the mule, was named after Judge Wiggins' son.”

“Old Tom” remains an amazing example of animals which served. And as I completed the previous sentence I was tempted to use the pronoun, “who” prior to the final word; since domesticated animals possess emotions so much like our own, and they become so like family to those who are privileged to know, and love them.

In my mind’s eye I see Old Tom, as he is awakened for the thousandth time by “Billy Sims,” a burly man, and as comparatively young as his faithful mule. And having hitched the four-footed creature to a two-wheeled cart, he climbs aboard, and gives the reins a loud crack, and they’re off.

And having rolled along for the space of ten or twelve minutes, they arrive at a vast pile of white clay. Billy immediately dismounts, and proceeds to shovel the phosphatic earth into the bed of the wagon. And while the morning is new, Old Tom is already sweating in central Florida’s sub-tropical, summer heat, and as he waits on Billy to complete his task, he dips his head from time to time to snatch a blade of grass, or a succulent weed.

A quarter hour passes, and the cart is filled to capacity; a great pile of clay threatening to splinter the wheels on which it stands. Billy jumps into his well-worn seat, snaps the reins, and they’re off again. In short order the familiar duo arrive at a place in the road where white clay gives way to gray sand, and the poorly paid city employee puts his previous efforts into reverse.

Spade after spade of chunky white clay adds foot after foot, yard after yard, mile after mile to the expanding network of what at that time passed for pavement. And as Billy toils, and glistening beads of sweat fall off the back of his faithful mule, and sprinkle the ground under him, other teams of men and animals may be seen in the distance, and multiply their efforts.

And as the clock hands slowly spin, Billy and Old Tom repeat their circuitous trek to the clay pile, and back, to the clay pile and back (and) to the clay pile and back; while the strong young man and the sturdy brown beast realize an ache in every joint, and weariness in every step.

… And they hope for the night.

There exists in modern times a song which aptly characterizes the laborious toil of Billy and his faithful mule.

“And So It Goes”

For you see, that formerly young man and formerly young mule continued doing the same thing they’d been doing, while years dropped like sand into the proverbial hour glass. Billy’s hair grew gray, and he developed a bit of paunch about his belly. While Old Tom aged a bit less gracefully, and with the passing years his back slumped, and his ribs shown through his tough, brown hide.

I like to believe that old mule’s involuntary servitude was accompanied by kindness, (rather than the standard fare to which beasts of burden were so often exposed), that Billy’s words were gentle and full of appreciation, that Old Tom’s wounds were tended, and his illnesses were treated, and that his last days were better than his first;

… as the harness was removed from his tired, old body for the last time, and he was afforded a lush, green pasture, and plenty of trees to while away his final days on the earth.

By William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from "(Mc)Donald's Daily Diary" Vol. 25. Copyright pending

If you wish to copy, share or save this blog, please include the credit line, above
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If you would like to see the titles and access hundreds of my blogs from 2015, do the following:  

Click on 2015 in the index to the right of this blog. When my December 31st blog, "The Shot Must Choose You" appears, click on the title. All my 2015 blog titles will come up in the index   

NOTE: **If you are viewing this blog with a Google server/subscription, you may note numerous underlined words in blue. I have no control over this "malady." If you click on the underlined words, you will be redirected to an advertisement sponsored by Google. I would suggest you avoid doing so.