Rambo is real, killing Americans by the dozen with an AR-15

Rambo-like bloodshed is happening with legally available weapons

Originally published on Patriot Not Partisan

In 1985, Sylvester Stallone single-handedly killed 58 people over 96 minutes. Of course, the deaths were onscreen in the movie, “Rambo: First Blood, Part II,” which was critically-panned and labeled unrealistic because there’s no way a single person could to take out an entire army.

More than 30 years later in America, there’s real-life, Rambo-like bloodshed, only the death toll is higher, and the people being killed are innocent. Rambo’s once seemingly unrealistic death toll of .60/kills per minute, pales in comparison to the 17 killed by the Parkland shooter in just six minutes, a rate of 2.8/kills per minute, or the 58 people killed in under 10 minutes by the Las Vegas shooter, a rate of 5.8/kills per minute.

In six of the deadliest mass shootings in American history, the gunman used an AR-15, which allows the shooter to fire off dozens of shots in under 10 minutes. The Las Vegas shooter fired a whopping 1,100 bullets in 10 minutes, an average of 110 bullets in one minute – that’s roughly two shots every second.

These murderers attained the weapons, magazines and accessories to complete their killing sprees legally. Our government believes the Parkland shooter, who was 19 at the time of his killing spree, wasn’t old enough to purchase a beer. But he is old enough to purchase an AR-15 and enough ammunition to kill hundreds of people.

Weapons like the AR-15 serve one main purpose — to kill multitudes in a short amount of time. They’re not used for hunting. They’re not used for self-defense. They’re used to kill as many people in as little time as possible.

Republicans continue to offer “thoughts and prayers,” either saying “it’s too soon” to talk about solutions or using mental health as their scapegoat (as if mental illness is a new development in the last decade). But past history indicates there is a solution that has worked in this country just 25 years ago.

In 1994, with overwhelming bipartisan support, the federal government passed an assault weapons ban that made guns like the AR-15 illegal to own. The ban expired in 2004. During the 10 years the law was in place, there were a total eight mass shootings resulting in 51 deaths. Six of the eight massacres involved semiautomatic weapons purchased legally before the assault weapons ban took effect in 1994. The two mass shootings featuring illegally acquired weapons — Columbine in 1999 and Edgewater Technology in 2000 — resulted in 20 combined deaths.

The assault weapons ban worked. Obviously, assault weapons and the ease of purchasing them is not the sole reason for the spike in mass casualties. However, the link between the spike in mass killings and the expiration of the assault weapons ban is undeniable.

We never thought the mass murder Rambo inflicted could be possible, but with assault weapons like the AR-15 easily attainable, Rambo has become real. And he’s after our children.

“What Happened” … and much more

Originally published on audible.com

I was hoping this book would provide unique insight into the 2016 election. It did, but it steered in many different directions, from Hillary’s childhood to her love of her grandchildren. That made the book a little disjointed.

Critics of “What Happened” complain that Hillary shuffles blame for election defeat. That is flat-out wrong. In the book, Hillary is constantly playing the “what if I ….” card and acknowledges her errors. However, she correctly points out the many factors she had no control over — the constant Comey conferences, Russian interference, the continuous “fake news” stories circulating on social media, the endless Benghazi hearings. Criticizing her for pointing out these unprecedented attacks on her character are unfair. They definitely had an impact on the election.

Hillary ends the book with a call to readers to work Onward Together, and promises to keep fighting. This offers members of the “Pantsuit Nation” some inspiration after a devastating defeat. Hopefully, though, it won’t be too late.

Joe’s Judgment: 3.5/5.0

I just wanted to swim with the other kids

Originally published on Patriot Not Partisan

BJ_1980
Me in 1980 – 4 years old.

When I was growing up, our neighbor had an above-ground swimming pool, a rarity in the tiny backyards of the homes on the Southside of Chicago. We could see the pool from our kitchen window.

I often played with the kids who lived in that house and considered them friends. But come summertime, they naturally spent their days in the pool. On any given day, lots of neighborhood kids could be seen playing in that pool. I wanted to play, too. After all, I was a neighborhood kid. But my parents said it would be impolite to ask — I needed to be invited. I watched them play from our kitchen window, sometimes even wearing my swimming trunks just waiting … but that invitation never came.

That’s the first time I learned that I was different from the neighborhood kids. Chicago was — and in many areas still is — highly segregated.  We lived in a white neighborhood. As a half-Filipino, half-white child, I was generally tolerated in my neighborhood, but never fully accepted (outside of my best friend and his family). At my Catholic elementary school, a few of my classmates would call me a “Filipino fart.” In high school, the kid who sat behind me in homeroom would often tell me to “go back to your country, wherever that is.” When I told the teacher about this, he told me to “just ignore it” and asked if I had finished my work. He completely dismissed my concerns, instead of addressing the situation.

Although I brushed off the racist rhetoric and actions, it did significant damage to my soul. I was severely wounded. I would bury myself in writing poetry, listening to heavy metal and dabbling in whatever substance I could get my hands on. One day, I wanted to end it all. And I almost did.

Twenty years later I found myself surrounded by people who accept me — and even celebrate me — for who I am. Of course, I knew there was still hate in the world. I wasn’t naive. I knew many people, especially blacks, Hispanics and gay people, still faced significant discrimination. And I always tried to stand with them. Although an ally against racism, I no longer felt like a victim. The wounds I endured in childhood were permanently healed, I thought.

Then Charlottesville happened, and more specifically, President Trump’s response. Like most Americans, I was shocked and saddened by the events of Saturday. And I was stunned by the tepid response given by the President. But I dug into my diversity training playbook and gave him the benefit of the doubt. As someone who has always been rich, white, straight and male, he cannot possibly understand what racial discrimination feels like. And on Monday, Trump at least made an effort to say the right thing.

Then his press conference on Tuesday happened. And the wounds in my soul that I thought were long healed began to flare up. When President Trump said, “there are bad people on both sides,” that little boy in his swimming trunks staring out the window occupied my mind. When the President said, there are “many fine people” among the neo-Nazis calling for an ethnic cleansing of our nation, the faces of the boys calling me a “Filipino fart” appeared. And when Trump promoted his winery in Charlottesville — “one of the largest wineries in the United States” — that teacher who dismissed my concerns was back.

In my diversity training, I learned there are actually very few racists in the world. Most people are just ignorant. I always thought our President fell into the latter category. But after his passionate statements Tuesday, and his continued unwillingness to consider the hurt his words have caused, it’s difficult not to consider him a racist.

And if you’re willing to overlook this fact and still support him, then you are no better than my high school teacher.

Trump, America about to deny Jesus

Deuteronomy 10:18-19 – “For the Lord your God…loves the strangers, providing them food and clothing. You shall also love the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.”


Donald Trump is likely going to sign an executive order tomorrow banning child refugees from Syria from entering the United States. Unlike his bans on other nationd that will last 100 days, his ban on Syrians is indefinite, a.k.a. permanent.

This means the families that are in the process of adopting parent-less Syrian children will not be allowed to proceed with their adoption. This means that Christian organizations that relocate child refugees to families in the United States, like Samaritan’s Purse and World Relief, will no longer be able to do their work. These children will likely die.

There is a lot of ambiguity in the Bible. Even contradictions. But the Bible’s stance on welcoming immigrants is clear.  There are more than 50 references in the Bible regarding “aliens,” “immigrants,” “foreigners” or “strangers.”
Remember, baby Jesus himself was a Middle Eastern refugee. And throughout his life, he was very clear on how we should treat refugees. In every instance Jesus comes across the downtrodden, he welcomes them.

His expectations of us in dealing with refugees is clear in Matthew 25: 34-46. This is the well-known passage where Jesus tells us that the key to pleasing God is to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, etc. In verse 35 he tells us to “invite in the stranger.” Here, it’s important to note that Matthew was written in Greek, and the original word for stranger was “Xenos,” which can be translated to English as “immigrant,” “foreigner” or “stranger.”

Donald Trump is going to sign an executive order denying refugees tomorrow. And in the process, our nation will be denying Jesus.

Most Trump voters aren’t racist, but hopefully they can understand …

Three days after the election, my Facebook and Twitter feeds are still dominated by post-election chatter.

A well-written, insightful piece by college student Cassie Hewlett has popped up numerous times on my feed, shared by numerous friends who were Trump voters. Cassie states it perfectly:

With the results of the presidential election stirring up a vast amount of emotions, I think it is important to clarify something: just because I am Republican does not mean I am heartless.

She is right. I was heartbroken when a student of mine came to class feeling like she could not express her happiness with the election results in classrooms because academia is – let’s face it – dominated by liberals. And claims like “Trump voters are racist, sexist, homophobic” caused her to naturally become defensive, because she is not any of these.

Harsh rhetoric automatically shuts down any chance of conversation. It makes one automatically defensive.

Ironically, the frustration expressed by many Trump voters of being labeled “racist” comes from the same emotional place as the anxiety expressed by those disappointed in the election results. So many of my minority  (racially, religiously and sexuality) friends are posting messages of genuine fear and a sense that they don’t belong in America. These feelings stem from the harsh rhetoric Trump has used at one point in the campaign, for instance saying most Mexican immigrants are “rapists and murderers” or calling for a complete ban on Muslims.

Again, harsh rhetoric automatically shuts down any chance of conversation. It makes one automatically defensive.

For us to truly come together, those of us who dislike Trump need to stop applying blanket labels to his voters. And Trump voters need to understand that many minorities are scared, not because their candidate lost, but because of a genuine fear that has been instituted by the past rhetoric of our President-elect.

Please, tell someone who is genuinely afraid that you respect them, support them, love them and that you will be there for them.

I cried this morning, but not for me

I cried this morning, but not for me.

As an upper-middle class, gainfully employed, relatively healthy, Asian/white male, I will do great under a Trump presidency.

I cried for my Latino friends, like my 9-year-old son’s friend who last spring in 2nd grade was fearful he would have to go “back” to Mexico, a place he doesn’t ever remember being.

I cried for my black friends, who for the first time since before the Civil Rights movement, have a President who refused to strongly denounce the support of the Ku Klux Klan, and who believes stopping and frisking them for no reason is an excellent crime-fighting tool.

I cried for my sick friends — those with “pre-existing” conditions –who now face the prospect of losing their health insurance, again.

I cried for my gay friends, who now will have a vice president who truly believes their sexuality is an illness and supported conversion therapy as a legislature.

I cried for my Muslim friends, who will face the prospect of being deported simply for their religious beliefs.

I cried for my female friends, like my wife, who have worked so hard to break gender stereotypes, who now have a President who finds it totally appropriate to judge women solely on their looks and use them as sexual objects.

I cried for my children, who will grow up under a President who thinks its OK to bully others you disagree with, calling them names and using social media as a bullying tool.

I’ll be OK. It’s my friends I’m worried about.