The Infamous Professor Gates

The real tragedy in the Professor Gates spectacle, is when his institutionalized Black racism is given voice, by a chance encounter such as his outburst unleashed upon the white policeman, his rants set race relations back.

More than that really, I think it does deep harm and plants seeds of violence and extremism deep, in both the black and white populations. If it is ok for Professor Gates to practice institutionalized racism, then for many, this will be all they need to induldge in the sin as well. Shame on professor Gates, he should step down from his teaching post.

Until the Professor Gates of the world are called down, there will be no progress.

Ski Mississippi

Now is El Niño or La Niña that has us in his, or her, grips? Not entirely sure, but I think it is the gent, el Señor Niño that we are dealing with. Not good news for Gore et al, hard to sell his global warming scam when summer abandons parts of the northern Hemisphere.

I myself wonder if the climate has began to oscillate back to a cooler than usual pattern. Records indicate that if the current weather pattern holds true to the forecast then the Northern United States will experience the coldest summer on record surpassing the record cool year of 1891.

Lads and lassies, that is a pretty impressive fact. So, maybe, just maybe, my Oxford town will get a decent snow this winter. I hope so, I love the stuff.

Now Accuweather, the forecasters that I use, tell me I am going to have a week of temps in the mid 80s with clouds and rain off and on. Now friends, that is not Mississippi. As we head into August usually we are in the Oven. Temps pushing 100, long hot, dry, spells.

So what's up with the summer?

Seamus O'Kane

Seamus O'Kane himself....

Murrough O'Kane

Here something for you lads and lassies. The young man on the flute is Murrough O'Kane, one of the better trad musicians in the world, also a great fellow. His dad is the very famous Seamus O'Kane, bodhrán maker and player of legend status. Murrough played a venue with my son Donovan and myself, when we did a music tour of Ireland in the autumn of 2004. He sat in with us when we played Sandino's in Derry city and we all had a great time. This is the real stuff, enjoy...

Peregrine Falcon

Every day I see at least two Peregrine falcons circling my house. They are works of art, one of the Creators finer pieces. Lethal mind you; they are machines of death. You should see the squirrels and song birds make themselves scarce when the Peregrines patrol.

This morning on my way into Oxford town for supplies I saw one dead in the road. That's bad. As well as being beautiful, they are also very useful to Man. (I still think that sort of relationship good). They kill a lot of the things that plague farm and yard alike.

There seems to be a good supply of Peregrines around Oxford, still I hope the one I saw in the road was not one of two I often see over my house. It was only about a mile from my house where I saw the unfortunate bird.

Indigo Buntings

Well, today, as I was sitting in my backyard, I saw a Indigo Bunting. A lovely, beautiful little bird, that we are graced with every summer. It is electric blue, much more blue than a 'blue bird'.

The humming birds are doing their annual wars. Anyone that feeds them knows of what I speak. The amazing aerial combat they launch into at this stage in summer. I've had them pass not more than inches from my head going a ba-zillion miles per hour.

Buzz Aldrin Lands Again!!!

I like White Men, they have this way about them, quiet, until something needs to be done. Then they do it, whether it is to walk on the moon or slug out an obnoxious bully.

There are these Nitwits that are convinced that we, i.e. American white guys, did not walk on the moon. Well, we bloody well did of course. Even if you are one of these morons there are photos taken by recent moon probes, you can easily see old equipment, even foot trails, made by Americans on the moon. Now the Moon Landing Deniers, are Stuck On Stupid, and facts mean nothing to them.

But, that is not why I post. I post to celebrate Buzz Aldrin and his defense of himself and of sanity. His punch on the rude know-nothing of a twit that accosted him was perfect in every way. The punch itself, delivered with perfection, grace, style. The straight right against the obnoxious bully.

We need, American needs, more Buzz Aldrins. If he ran for president, I'd vote for him.

That's One Great Punch For Man, One Great Punch For Mankind...

Change

There is some excellent humour evolving out of the current economic downturn and the inexplicable tax and spend solution chosen by the current administration. How adopting a circa 1950s East German economic model is supposed to lead to better times is hard to imagine.

But, you must admit socialists are an optimistic group, never have their plans worked, not once around the globe, yet they continually believe theirs to be the best way. Their faith in their dogma an inspiration to us all.

The joke below is circulating widely in the Red States of America.

LETTER FROM THE BOSS:

As the CEO of this organization, I have resigned myself to the fact that Barrack Obama is our President and that our taxes and government fees will increase in a BIG way. To compensate for these increases, our prices would have to increase by about 10%.

But since we cannot increase our prices right now due to the dismal state of the economy, we will have to lay off sixty of our employees instead. This has really been bothering me, since I believe we are family here and I didn't know how to choose who would have to go.

So, this is what I did. I walked through our parking lots and found sixty 'Obama' bumper stickers on our employees' cars and have decided these folks will be the ones to let go. I can't think of a more fair way to approach this problem. They voted for change, I gave it to them.

I will see the rest of you at the annual company picnic.

All the Best,

Manx Cats

This is Piscín, one of my two Manx cats. He found me. He was a runaway from a house were His Highness was not appreciated. To add insult, the previous owner had named him, a Manx, Pancho. Now I tell you, that is not a proper name for a Manx. Ideally the name should be in Gaelic of course. The breed comes from the Isle of Man, a island between Ireland and northern England, and one of the three Gaelic homelands. I've been there, lovely place. They rule themselves, are part of the Crown, but not part of the UK, so an odd status, like the Channel Island. It is a magical place, full of beautiful glens, moors, mountains, and lovely people, and Manx Cats.

Manx cats are odd fellows, their behaviour almost dog like. The better ones will fetch things for you, will carry things around in their mouth, etc., they love to go on walks with their owners, especially in the woods. The are keen vermin catches, un-matched. Mine take a steady toll on the vole and mouse population around my house. The other day Piscín killed a bona fide rat. Not a cotton rat, but a full blown nasty bugger of a rat. He killed it with one vicious bite to the back of its neck... clean, neat, professional.

Piscín is also adept at killing snakes. This is a vendetta, when he was younger he was bitten by a cotton mouth moccasin. His wee paw blew up to the size of a good summer sausage, he came close to death, but survived. Since that experience he presents me with four or five very dead poisonous snakes each year. What a cat.

Sherlock Holmes

Well I will touch upon Sherlock Holmes several times in the near future. I am that repulsed by the pervert movie recently made, a crude pervert version of Holmes by the Hollywood Knownothings. But, this lad busy I am, so I post this, so that the uninitiated will know a bit about the real Conan Doyle character of Sherlock Holmes, this scene straight from the book. The Real Tabasco lads and lassies. Not like that crap of a new movie. This Youtube from the great Jeremy Brett, the real Holmes.

All Creatures Great and Small

I post this, just to diminish somewhat the horde of heathens approaching the gates, lads and lassies.
Buy all the DVDs of All Creatures Great and Small..... it is beyond good. And Normal, which these days is saying something.

Wooster!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Distributism

Distributism, also known as distributionism and distributivism, is a third-way economic philosophy formulated by such Roman Catholic thinkers as G. K. Chesterton and Hilaire Belloc. I could write several books to define it, but you can't do better than this one sentence definition and summation of Distributism than GK Chesteron's comment , 'Too much capitalism does not mean too many capitalists, but too few capitalists.'

As an economic paradigm it is opposed to socialism and the type of capitalism now practiced in the global community. Distributism is a Third Way in which production is spread as widely as possible, markets are local, and the general population is comprised of small family farmers, local shops, such as butchers, bakers, haberdashers, etc., and the economy is not based on debt and taxation.

The concept was articulated by Pope Leo XIII encyclical Rerum Novarum and then expanded on by Pope Pius XI. It is basically the economy our Founding Fathers visioned. Right now we have a system of wage slavery, where people live their entire lives in debt, one where property is not really owned, but merely rented from a huge, massive, government. Distributism is also the opposite of socialism, as it works toward a society of families that own their land free and clear, own their businesses, free and clear, etc.

Modern global Capitalism has turned into a monster not unlike the Soviet Union's communism in that wealth and power are controlled entire at the top in the hands of a few chosen monied interests. A tiny minority of insanely wealthy capitalist that have empires in which worker wage slaves spend entire lives in debt. The socialist communal farm and the capitalist agri-business are remarkably alike.

Distributism scares the Hell out of governments, which is a sure sign that it is something honest and good. It is 'real' Change.

The Death of America

If you listen carefully to this interchange between Michelle Bachmann and the Government henchmen, Geithner and Bernanke, you will hear literally the Devil speaking within the scary answers of Messrs Geithner and Bernanake. Evil incarnate. They operate outside the laws our Founding Fathers gave us and they know it and have contempt for us.

It is amazing, that in the person of Michell Bachmann, we have at least one American brave enough to make real points and ask real questions of these con men.

Also notice, that Jaba the Hut, comes in at the end of the episode; a more bizarre scene one can not imagine. Our Republic in tatters, in the dirt, walked on by these little men and still the nation sleeps.

Wine With Grits

Last night I had grits with my supper. Now, we are grits eaters in this house, my two sons, wife, myself, all enjoy the bejeepers out of them. You can tell you are a very bona fide Southern family when you discuss which wine to have with grits. BTW... we chose a young, Spanish, red to go with the meal. They whole supper was comprised of grits, Southern style link sausage, tomatoes, and onions. The tomatoes homegrown, organic even; you slice them and serve with sliced raw sweet onions, absolutely lovely.

We often eat very traditional meals and enjoy grits in a variety of ways. The boys like them with a nice load of extra sharp, white Cheddar cheese in them. This done in addition to the butter already in them. I've had people over at my house to eat that tell me that I served them their first ever grits. I find that shocking myself, one wonders about the deplorable state of culture in this post modern consumer age, when you can find people born in the South that have never eaten grits.


They are the perfect accompaniment for any meal, breakfast, dinner, or supper. Easy to prepare, just ignore the directions on the package, those are always wrong. Add more water than suggested and cook for at least 30 minutes and let them rest abit, and you will have them done correctly. Serve them with cheese, a littler cream cheese and sharp cheddar, which you put in after they cook, allow that to melt, then serve. Always put several dashes of Louisiana hot sauce in the grits. You will become a grits eater in no time.

Rats With Antlers

Rats with antlers was the name a friend suggested with regards to the deer that roam about. A good name for them. I am only 5 miles from Ole Miss, 4 miles from The Square (Oxford centre) and you would think plagues of deer would not be a concern. Not so, these robbers are everywhere.

Lately one has taken to raiding my pepper plants and my cucumbers. This is not funny.

I rose early this morn, with the intentions of planting a pellet in the fanny of the cloven footed rat. I opened the back door to have a look around, the blasted nuisance of a deer was standing about 20 feet from my backdoor, staring at me. To my shock one of my Manx cats was seated by the deer! What's going on with that I'd like to know. This deer did not seem overly worried about me, it casually walked away.

Deer are pests.

Sherlock Holmes

There is a cadre of people world wide, the very best sort, who are readers and fans of Sherlock Holmes. Now this will mean little to the uninitiated, but I continue. There is now a travesty, a sick nasty perversion, in the entity of a new so called 'film' about Sherlock Holmes being released soon.

The reality is, it is the opposite, it is an Anti-Holmes film. DO NOT go and see it. If you do you will reward slack jaw, know-nothingism, which is all the rage in the Gomorrah that is now Hollywood. Really, this perversion, corruption, etc, must stop at some point, don't we all think?

Read Conan Dole's books, watch the portrayal of Jeremy Brett of Holmes, they are excellent, but stay well clear of the runny, dripping, bowel movement of the so called new film of Sherlock Holmes. Robert Downey Jr, should be publicly horse whipped for this travesty and perversion. I for one, will certainly never see another film he is in. Absolutely disgusting. Vomit and worse. Perverts. God, what is it about these know-nothings in Hollywood. Screw them and worse I say.

Absolutely disgusting. Anyone with an IQ over 105 is urged not to see this travesty. It is difficult to express my utter disgust at this so called Sherlock Holmes film.

Mississippians speaking Gaelic

Mississippians speaking Gaelic…

… when pigs fly, you say. You don’t normally associate Mississippi with the Irish speaking world. I mean the words Mississippi and Gaeilge do not often appear in the same sentence. But history is full of odd misconceptions, like horns and wings on Viking helmets (they had none). Early Mississippi was settled by an assortment of mixed Celts, Irish, Hebrideans, west Highlanders, Scots-Irish, etc., and Gaelic was a language heard often in Mississippi in antebellum days.

In the mid 1840s John Claiborne, a prominent Mississippi attorney and member of the US Congress, wrote in his journal, ‘there is yet living in Greene (County) some of the original immigrants who speak nothing but the Gallic.’ By this he meant the Gaelic language. There was even a need for Gaelic speaking post masters in Mississippi in those days. The Greene County comment was of great interest to me personally, as the first McCains to enter Mississippi were in this community described by John Claiborne.

It is interesting to see Gaelic in use in Mississippi into the 1840s and 1850s. My own grandfather, who was born in 1890, used certain Gaelic works in his speech: brogan (bróga) for shoe, or slew (slua) to mean a lot of something. I found a humorous comment about language made by an English Crown official that visited the Marsh Creek Settlement in the Pennsylvania Colony, where the McCains were living in the 1740s. The Crown official complained that these settlers spoke ‘bad English and bad Irish.’ That was my immigrant, Hugh McKean, he was speaking about and it was his son, Hance Hamilton McCain, who brought my
wing on the family into Mississippi.

Now you would think that by the 21st Century we Mississippi McCains would have lost our Gaelic, wouldn’t you? Not so. Last fall you would have heard a curious conversation in Oxford, Mississippi, from two men heading into the Ajax Pub. My cousin, Rankin Sherling, a native Greenwood, his mother a McCain, and I met at the Pub to have a visit. Rankin is working on his Phd in Irish history at Queens University, Ontario, Canada and was just back from Donegal, where he had been studying Ulster Irish. My Irish is fair to middlin’ these days, and despite my caigheán oifigiúil and his bona fide Ulster dialect, we managed to greet and speak in Irish to each other there in the middle of Oxford,Mississippi. So pigs do fly.

Old Photographs

It is a wet blah day in Oxfordtown. Humid.... warm... but, at least we are not being roasted alive today. Today's missive is on the value and practice of looking at Old Photographs. I recommend the practice highly. The quantum physicists like to tell us that there are many dimensions, that time and place are not what they appear. I believe this and have always sensed this to be true. We are all but a dream and we are all but dreamers.

Leslie Harris McCain and Sarah Pearl Tweedy circa 1920 in Madison County Mississippi


When one looks at old photographs you can experience times and events past, knowing that somewhere some how, they exist now. I am in the process of digitizing many old family photographs I have. It is paranormal experience often, at least for me. My dear grandmother McCain née Tweedy was born in 1883 and passed in 1962. I only knew her some 10 years and a few months, yet I remember her like it was yesterday, and maybe it was. Sometimes when I look at photos of her that were taken when she was young I am thrown into her late Victoraian world and it is a very pleasant experience. The Tweedy family were Scots-Irish and came to the New World very early, circa 1705 so. They have a wondeful history. The family lore says they are 'fey' and this may be true as my grandmother had the Second Sight.


Sarah Pear Tweedy circa 1905




Treasure your ancestors as they are still here, in you, and around you.

One Very Fast McCain...

From McCain's Corner today I present the case of Anthony McKane, one fast fellar he is...
As many of you know I have spent a lot of time in Ireland over the years. Our McCain family is still very numerous in County Donegal. McCain as a surname is an anglicised spelling of the Gaelic surname Mac Eáin, other common anglicised spellings are McKean and McKane. My own family spelled our surname McKean and McKeen for many years in fact. We know where our people are in Donegal because we did a DNA Y chromosome test to confirm our kinship with our Irish branch of our tribe. We knew who we thought they were, and our Irish branch also knew we were theirs, so to speak, but many of us left Ireland so very long ago, that we all felt the DNA would be the best way to confirm the fact. There are other McCain families, both in Ireland and Scotland, that are not connected to ours.

Last summer when I was in Donegal I met with some 2o or so McCain families. It was great meeting and talking with them and it is great having a large extended family in Ireland. The McCains are by origin Highland Scots, Gaels from mid Argyll. We are not sure of the exact date we relocated to Donegal, but records suggest it was between 1568 and 1595. We settled on clan Ó Dónaill lands, which after the flight of the earls in 1607 became the lands of James Hamilton and his family, which is when we start showing up in the written records. Later some of our McCains moved into Tyrone, Derry, and northwest Antrim, and we did well for the most part.

The account below is a news story from today concerning one of our tribe with a heavy foot, or whatever it is called on a motorcycle! BTW 260 KPH is about 161 MPH!!! Given the roads around Donegal Town, this McCain not only fast, but brave, or foolish. The state police in Ireland are called the Gardaí (plural), one policeman is called a Garda.



Saturday, July 4, 2009
Charges dismissed against bikers clocked doing 260km/h



PADDY CLANCY

FOUR MEN who were accused of driving their motor bikes in convoy at 260 km/h escaped a dangerous driving conviction yesterday.

The charges against them were dismissed after the prosecution evidence against one of them, Enda Connor (27), was ruled unsatisfactory by Judge Denis McLoughlin at Ballyshannon District Court.

The case was brought after south Donegal Garda traffic corps chief Sgt Iggy Larkin clocked four bikers driving at 260km/h along the Bundoran bypass in a 100km/h zone at Finner last September 27th.

Sgt Larkin and his traffic corps colleague, Garda Elaine Gordon, told the court the bikes were going too fast for them to follow.

Sgt Larkin said: “I certainly wasn’t going to risk our lives and the lives of others on the road trying to catch the bikers.”

Gardaí in Donegal more than 20km away were asked to stop them.

Sgt Larkin said when he reached the Tullyearl roundabout outside Donegal town four motor-cycles were pulled in on the left. He showed them the figure registered on his handheld speed-gun.

He said: “Some of them said they couldn’t do that speed.”

The court heard that Mr Connor admitted driving a yellow and blue Honda to Garda Gordon when she spoke to him before later arresting him for dangerous driving.

Judge McLoughlin said he was ruling that evidence inadmissible because Mr Connor had not been cautioned at the time that anything he would say could be given in evidence.

The judge also said the gardaí were unable to identify which bike was clocked at 260km/h. Sgt Larkin had admitted he was unable to read the number plate registrations.

The judge dismissed the charge against Mr Connor, of Sechelles, Rathlee, Easkey, Co Sligo.

When Insp Paul Kilcoyne, prosecuting, said the evidence would be the same in all cases the judge also dismissed dangerous driving charges against Enda McCann (31), of Dartry View, Kinlough, Co Leitrim, Anthony McKane (31), of Ashdene, Dungannon, Co Tyrone, and John Donnelly (28), of Cloughfin Road, Sixmilecross, Omagh, Co Tyrone.

Mr Connor’s solicitor, Kieran Ryan, paid tribute to Sgt Larkin for the “honesty” of his evidence.

Judge McLoughlin said: “Like any garda he was extremely fair. He didn’t try to gild the lily and I’m grateful.”

--

McVities and Tea

Working with the Ulster Heritage DNA Project has been fascinating. History is much different in reality than the pre-packaged often agenda driven pulp variety we are commonly asked to digest, and Ulster history is more complex than most. Now this could drive us to tears, but really it should not, as it is wonderfully rich and older than the hills. It is epic and our people have made their mark in the four corners of the world. Hard to top that.

When I started my path to study Ulster history I knew there was going to be trouble when I was reading up on the 16th Century Clann Mhic Dhónaill taoiseach named Somhairle Buí Mac Dónaill. He pretty much ran things from Coleraine east to Cushendun in his day. I read an Irish written account that described him as a ‘Scottish warlord,’ and I then read a different Irish account of him that called him a ‘Scottish pirate.’ Now which was it, lads?

Notions such as native Irish, Ulster Scots, etc., quickly become unravelled when examined through the microscope lens of Y chromosome DNA testing. A new world and more accurate history comes into focus. You will see a Donegal family that has distant kin to a family in the Hebrides, etc., reflecting the movement of clans in days gone by. One family will be quite Irish, one family quite Scottish, perhaps even different religions now, but the same family. When you get your DNA test results in, it is much like having a time machine; you see where your people were living centuries ago, even millenniums ago. A world of families and their long forgotten tribal affiliations appear.

Barry R McCain with his cousins in County Donegal Ireland, a long way for a Mississippi boy!


I created one of the early Ulster family DNA projects, the McCain DNA Project, and it was very successful. My first DNA match was to a McKane gentleman, born in north Antrim. He immigrated in 1979 to the USA. When I was over in fall of 2004, I did stop to visit his (and my) in-laws and relations in Ballyrashane Parish, County Antrim. I pulled up my rented Toyota Matrix and knocked on their door, a rural place, still a working farm. My people left in 1718, so it did take a few minutes of explanation to sort out exactly how we were kin, but I saw the very moment of their realisation. The expression on their faces changed, yes, and they knew how we were connected. Yes, you are ‘our’ McCains… It was McVities and tea and a nice chin wag then.