A History Book Jumble

Oh, isn't that cute. Lots of people find their surnames in the 19th century history books. There are the surnames Thompson, Niles, Roberts, and more in history books recording travels through Central America. However, this does nothing to prove direct lineage of missionaries by the same surname who lived in Latin America during the 20th century and onwards or else not in the same countries. It is sort of cutely funny in that strange way that Freemasons try to systematically analyze the planet but it does not necessarily mean anything. I really am not interested in joining the Masonic Club, thanks anyway. I would rather have a life than spend any more time on this trivia. I must admit that I am not interested in learning this Binary Code that Dog-Ma denizens have developed to drive me to distraction. I really wasn't thinking about this at all and I resent my attention being diverted from more productive avenues, my personal life being hijacked for no good reason, just somebody else has an axe to grind and they want me to be their substitute. Truthfully, I really don't quite get why I should care about events that no one will bother to explain. It must be all that important, obviously. So there is no reason for me to get all worked up and screaming over someone else's agenda. I really don't understand what your problem is. You are an idiot. That is all I clearly understand. You are an idiot.

Which Reminds Me

While I was living in Virginia I pled guilty on a speeding ticket. 

It is useless to argue with a laser gun when you are going 60 where only 45 is allowed.

So after postponing too long to pay by mail I went to the courthouse and pled guilty and paid my fine and that is all there is to say about that. Ok, so maybe I was not pleased to be pulled over. When is that ever convenient, especially when you are in a hurry to get somewhere on time? I might have seemed overly grouchy as I handed over my license to be written up which took forever when I had been in something of a hurry to get somewhere on time. Oh well. Never mind about having a life. I was feeling a bit guilty about not being respectful enough to the black policeman who stopped me so pleading guilty to speeding was my way of saying I am sorry, because I was speeding clearly so obviously I was guilty of driving too fast there. No contest there. So did I also tell this story to someone before? I really don’t remember.

However, I do not see how pleading guilty on one speeding ticket attaches every other guilt complex on the planet and stains my entire record. It was only a speeding ticket.

Which Reminds Me

Anyway, I am starting to see that someone upstairs is confused. No, my family was not involved in selling weapons for attacking Honduras. I cannot speak for a high school classmate Ronit Meissner in El Salvador, a Jewis redhead who yet does not resemble Libby Penders, who was a cultie. Anyone can tell they are not identical twins. I have no idea what her family was doing there. Just because they were Jewish, that did not mean they were in the weapons business. But I really don't now anything about that. I would rather that they speak for themselves. You must stop asking me questions that I cannot answer.

Which Reminds Me

And who appointed Elizabeth Hunt the Queen of the universe? She is just a snarky little witch always spreading misinformation and leaving behind a trail of confusion everywhere she has somehow had contact of any kind. And what is Venezuela to me? Nothing actually. I could not care less about Venezuela as compared to Colombia or any other South American country, the Philippines vs. Taiwan or whatever. All of these countries are full of unsaved people who need to hear the Gospel message, not unlike the U.S. Yes, it is confusing to have the backstabbing traitorous Hunts hanging on the same family tree as us, pretending to be of Pentecostal heritage while actually having sold out and turned sort of Baptist along with the Christian & Missionary Alliance defectors. It sort of confuses the picture when actually while our family is AG Pentecostal we were never exactly in agreement on certain points with the pathetically clueless empty-headed Southern Baptist Reeces and Bells who were our high school classmates in El Salvador, not that we would be able to explain it to them because they would not be able to understand. It sort of confuses the picture to have the clueless dimwitted Thompson girls sniping at us behind our backs when actually they were Venezuelan classmates of the traitorous witch Elizabeth apparently. It sorts of confuses the picture to have the Arab riff-raff Hoskins family pretending to be Chosen People. It sort of confuses the picture to have the Mexican riff-raff Bueno family pretending to be a products of Chile. It sort of confuses the picture to have the Bates riff-raff, after having defected to Puerto Rico, now presuming to be English literates. It sort of confuses the picture to have Foursquare Witch Kay attempting to "use" us for her own selfish purposes. In view of all this stupidity I think it would be better for me to just commit suicide because my existence on this planet just doesn't matter. I just don't count. Nobody cares about what happens to me. I am just nothing.

I Am Not Reminded, Nor Am I Amused

Only now do I learn of the existence of the Salvador Commercial Co., a construction company based in Oakland, Calif., and its wrangles with the Salvadoran government in about 1902. After bankruptcy was forced upon them by the government, the plan to build a port apparently having been found unworkable, the contractors were awarded a half-million dollars in compensation for the loss of the contract. After the Tribunal of Arbitrators ruled in favor of the contractor, the Salvadoran government issued bonds representing a half-million dollars to the company directors who distributed the bonds among their employees. J.B. Hays sued in 1906 for a share of bonds although I am not sure how that lawsuit turned out. The bonds were payable over eight years. Given that the bonds would have been paid out a century ago we fail to see any reason why we should a hundred years later still be exchanging stupid jokes about the Salvadoran Commercial Co. In fact, I seriously doubt that anyone in our family owns a share of said bonds. No, I am not Minnie Strickland, the black maid from Tennessee whose name appears on the 1930 census, that I should have any intimate knowledge of the Burrell family, the heirs of Alfred W. Burrell, the contractor, and his brother Henry. I am not amused.

Just because Tempky, in his Mitla, waxes rhapsodic on the beauty of the Bay of Fonseca as the terminus of ocean waves rolling across the Pacific from China, that does not mean there is any connection to our own family's mysterious paperwork of uncertain value.

Why is everyone packing on the Caluori's? Someone ought to straighten out that busybody Tony Caluori because this is not how our lives were supposed to be.

Which Reminds Me

We were living in El Salvador in July of 1969 at the time of the Soccer War between El Salvador and Honduras. I remember that after the war ended the country held a victory parade. A column of soldiers carrying guns, some riding in Jeeps and other military vehicles, paraded down Calle Roosevelt, a street that happened to be a half-block from our back door. All we had to do was walk out our back door and through a parking lot to see the victory parade. My Dad snapped some photos of the parade, and those photos are probably still somewhere in the family collection. This was after we had spent a few nights without electricity. Throughout the war, which, by the way, lasted only 100 hours, they turned of the electricity at 6 p.m. so that theoretically the Honduran bombers would not be able to find the city for bombing purposes. All was dark. We sat on the terrace listening to radio reports on my Dad's old shortwave radio, sometimes tuning in reports of either country, all sounding rather similar in reverse because each side had its war propaganda. So I am rather perturbed to be hearing tirades from some clueless Honduranian latecomers when actually it was not our war. Salvador just happened to be the place where we were living at the time due to various circumstances beyond our control, not really our native country. There were also a couple of military coups during the time we lived there but I cannot say that I really understood what that was all about.

I am certain that if we had happened to be living in Honduras at the time we might have been taking pictures of the other side. Whatever.

Which reminds me that I remember reading that a lot of Salvador's airplanes and weapons were purchased from Israel which was considered a strong ally of El Salvador at the time. I understand that in more recent years the Arabs gained much power there and changed a lot of things but back in those days it was not like that. I really don't remember the Civil War and all of the other things that happened after we left the country so I really would not be able to comment much on that.

Which Reminds Me

Europeans are perfectly cruel to me as usual. Which reminds me of a speech that somehow through the means of some sort of mentally telepathic dictation presents itself to my mind for transmittal:

And since when is the foreign policy of the United States, greatest nation of the free world, dictated by the idiotic rantings of some pathetically wicked Belgian princess who happened to marry some Honduran doctor and then ran off at the mouth on matters that are none of her business after rummaging through some paperwork debris that chanced to turn up on Nexis-Lexis or similar computer compilation? Does her marriage of condescension suddenly make Honduras a colony of Belgium? And does this "royal" connection make Honduras any less a Spanish colony than its Central American neighbors in the history of America? Who are you kidding? Have the Flemish no gratitude for our rule in securing our freedom that they would attack us for striking back at Japan after the brutal attacks of Pearl Harbor? And since when did Flemish become the national language of Honduras? Yes, the Belgian chocolate industry may well benefit from a more advantageous exchange of cacao but the rest of us have no interest in this Belgian marriage of convenience. Just because my name sounds like Candi, that does not mean a 'i' hangs on the end of this contract. Newspapers reporte that Alfred W. Burrell "contracted" pneumonia and the outcome of that transaction was only illness and death. Thus I will not of my free will be choosing to contract with Belgium or Honduras or Salvador or Nicos or Ticos, etc., or any other entities some ridiculous arrangement. Yes, these Spanish colonists are so dazzled by the royals as we all know, but here in the U.S. our government should be insulating us from their nonsense, not perpetuating it. We all may enjoy looking at pictures of these famous people in glossy magazines but we would not want those whacky people poking their noses into our personal lives. They are public figures and we are not. We do not have to buy the magazines and they are not required to let the public into their lives as they do.

Of course, we all know that Henry H. Burrell refused to sign the meeting minutes, imagining that something unknown and understood by him might perchance be lurking in the Spanish language document and yet that did not prevent the government from absconding with all of his assets, so no contract was ever signed by me.

Yes, I noticed the Honduran trailblazing of Buzz and Susie Stewart, of whose value has plunged in terms of evangelism because their stupid Honduran venture is not really that special to all. We are not the Davenports, whose grandparents were missionaries in Honduras and have a long history there, so there was no reason to get all worked up about that, as if either side won the Soccer War of 1969.