Saturday, March 7, 2009

Full Metal Jacket Saturday

In keeping with Rule 2 of "How to Get a Million Hits on Your Blog," we once again devote a Saturday thread to the FMJRA principle of linking those who link us: Back in the day, before the damage inflicted by imported herbage, I was an irrepressible class clown. My teachers in middle school would send me to the principal's office for double-entendres that made them blush, but which none of my classmates understood.

So when Private Joker smiles, you don't always know what he's smiling at. Rule 2 is shorthand for a basic life principle, of showing gratitude for those who have done you a favor. Let me therefore give you a brief excerpt from Page One of a new book:
Death hides in the the tall grass of Southern Sudan. What looks like empty landscape can explode in a heartbeat with rebels from the Lord's Resistance Army shooting, slashing, and burning their way through an unsuspecting village. Government officials and NGOs . . . give these renegade soldiers a wide berth; they usually know where the trouble areas are and steer clear of them. Local residents, left to make it on their own, are constantly on the edge, always afraid. There are no peaceful nights in the bush. None, that is, except in one place -- a forty-acre island of safety and calm in the middle of a hellish, endless civil war. The Shekinah Fellowship Children's Village.
That's from Another Man's War: The True Story of One Man's Battle to Save Children in the Sudan, by Sam Childers. Lots of people talk about helping Sudan. Sam Childers does it.

When God needed a born fighter to save children from the vicious monsters of Joseph Kony's LRA, it was this two-fisted son of a Pennsylvania steelworker who got the call. "Pastor Sam," as he is known, had worked hard all his life to build his own million-dollar construction firm -- and then he gave it all up to go help children in Africa.

You may have heard ministers talk about the Christian principle of "servant leadership," but until you've met Sam Childers, you don't know what a servant leader is. The Machine Gun Preacher has put his life on the line to serve God and save God's children.

Please help Sam Childers and his ministry. Click that link and give what can, folks. If you're a blogger with an Amazon Associates account, please link Pastor Sam's book on your page. Order a copy for yourself and do a review. Link his site from your page, and tell your own readers to help this man who has given up so much to help so many.

Everything and anything you do to help Pastor Sam will help save lives and save souls -- and not just in Africa, either. His church in Pennsylvania is a refuge for all the hard-luck losers and outcast souls that other ministries say they want to reach. Sam knows how to reach them, because he was once an outcast soul himself. He knows very well that there is no sinner so wretched as to be beyond the aid of grace.

If ever you wanted to do me a favor, and deserve a future Rule 2, please do all you can to help this man of God, Pastor Sam Childers.

Like the people of Plataea conquered by the Spartans, it may some day be asked of you what you have done to aid the victor in this epic battle. And as wildly inappropriate as this reminder might seem after such a sermon, don't forget, folks, to get your babe-blogging done today, and e-mail me the links for Rule 5 Sunday. Aggregation is the name of the game.

All Your Links Are Belong To Us!


  1. My father and I would watch it together during the holidays.

  2. Robert, my grandfather was a state cop and a boxing champion. He would have knocked the crap out of your grandfather and his corny mules.

    From a young punk to a sadly over-the-hill punk—even if you concentrated your meager supply of testosterone into fifty more angry blog attacks against me, you still wouldn’t rate as my “enemy,” although I’m sure saying so makes you feel like you own a pair. You’ll never scrape past “nuisance” on my opposition scale.

    Let me know how you take your coffee, so I know what I’ll be pouring laxative into.

  3. Young Mr. McLaren:
    I do you the kindness of throwing you more traffic than you will ever throw in return, elevating you at so tender an age to Internet fame, and if you'd stop pouting long enough to get over Your Bad Self, you'd be whistling down the street with a happy stride.

    P.S.: Your grandfather would have to sneak up real quiet-like, if he didn't want to be perforated with double-aught. We never heard of a fair fight.

  4. Ha, McCain, you've riled the Young Turks into action. At least this Evan Ramsey McLaren fellow's got more moxie than E.D. Kain. I've thrown those guys at Ordinary Gentleman more traffic than Ross Douthat, so I'm betting that I've hit a really raw nerve that they'd rather not expose any futher. But your duel here with this Mr. McLaren's got a touch of patriarichal chivalry and ought to be good for a blog post or two. What a devil, McCain. Sticking up for us old farts of the blogoshere! Whoo hoo!

  5. Dr. Douglas:
    You miss the point entirely. This isn't about defending old farts -- I figure you can defend yourself. Rather, this is part of The Gunnery Sergeant Hartman Youth Leadership Development Program. If McLaren is as smart as he thinks he is, he'll figure it out soon enough. Otherwise, he'll be doing pushups until his arms fall off.

    Imagine how grateful you would have been, Dr. Douglas, if at 24 someone had decided to promote you from being an anonymous a$$hole to being a notorious a$$hole. It took me 25 years of hard work to become this notorious.

  6. Yes, I’ve figured out this little snit of yours. A few short years from now you’ll be telling the nurses at the home, as they put you to bed, that you were the one who put Evan Ramsey McLaren through the School of Hard Knocks.


    Feedjit live is a pretty nice little blogging tracking tool too..

    free as well.

    Try a rule 5 cross link and watch the live feed begin..


  8. I received my own RSMcCain 'lanche a couple of weeks ago and the aftershocks continue! Awesomeness!

    Unlike Mr. McLaren, I am whistling a happy tune.

  9. I don't have anything on my blog yet that's worth linking to, so I'm not worried about kissing Georgian ass (no real Texan or Alaskan would dare stoop that low), yet. I'm just here to give Mr. McCain a hard time (actually, I agree with him about 95% of the time, but it isn't any fun agreeing with people all the time).