Papa Joe's Story Hour
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Below:
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Don't Forget to Laugh
Did you hear about the Chinese university student who was asked how he liked living under a totalitarian communist dictatorship? “Eh, I can’t complain.” |
The Girl with No Nose
by Jerry L. Long
I had an occasion to make a trip out to the hospital ship, USS Sanctuary. I wore glasses and had broken one of the required two pairs I had to keep on hand. I was due for an exam and they had a full optical on board. When I exited the Huey on the helipad, I made my way across the deck. After receiving directions to the lab, my next encounter with a human stopped me in my tracks. She was a beautiful little Vietnamese girl, maybe three or four years old. It was not her beauty that stopped me, but the strange look of her nose. I was staring at her, trying to understand what I was seeing. When I realized what I was doing, our eyes met. I have tried to explain to my wife the emotions I felt, but to this day, it is impossible! As we separated to go our own ways, I was left with a nagging question, “What happened to her?” During the rest of the day, I encountered two more little Vietnamese girls with disfigured faces. Like the first, they were three or four years old. I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to know what happened to them! I searched out a crew member and asked. He said, “Oh, didn’t you know?” “No, I didn’t!” He Said that the Viet Cong or NVA would go into a village and gather everyone together. Then, they would inform the villagers that they would be expected to help supply the communists with food and intelligence. Then, they would single out a little girl and bring her in front of the villagers. The girl was then subjected to either having her nose cut off, an ear cut off, or her tongue cut out. They would then declare that if the village did not cooperate, this would happen to more children. They only butchered the girls. The boys, that were old enough, were taken to be used as slave labor in their camps. The boys were indoctrinated while in the camps and trained to fight when they got a little older. When I left Vietnam, in the middle of October 1969, we were killing twelve and thirteen-year-olds. After my trip to the USS Sanctuary, I returned to the battle with a more focused purpose.
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Excerpt from FIGHTING THE WAR FOR THE LORDS OF LORE (forthcoming book)
by Jerry L. Long
I had an occasion to make a trip out to the hospital ship, USS Sanctuary. I wore glasses and had broken one of the required two pairs I had to keep on hand. I was due for an exam and they had a full optical on board. When I exited the Huey on the helipad, I made my way across the deck. After receiving directions to the lab, my next encounter with a human stopped me in my tracks. She was a beautiful little Vietnamese girl, maybe three or four years old. It was not her beauty that stopped me, but the strange look of her nose. I was staring at her, trying to understand what I was seeing. When I realized what I was doing, our eyes met. I have tried to explain to my wife the emotions I felt, but to this day, it is impossible! As we separated to go our own ways, I was left with a nagging question, “What happened to her?” During the rest of the day, I encountered two more little Vietnamese girls with disfigured faces. Like the first, they were three or four years old. I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to know what happened to them! I searched out a crew member and asked. He said, “Oh, didn’t you know?” “No, I didn’t!” He Said that the Viet Cong or NVA would go into a village and gather everyone together. Then, they would inform the villagers that they would be expected to help supply the communists with food and intelligence. Then, they would single out a little girl and bring her in front of the villagers. The girl was then subjected to either having her nose cut off, an ear cut off, or her tongue cut out. They would then declare that if the village did not cooperate, this would happen to more children. They only butchered the girls. The boys, that were old enough, were taken to be used as slave labor in their camps. The boys were indoctrinated while in the camps and trained to fight when they got a little older. When I left Vietnam, in the middle of October 1969, we were killing twelve and thirteen-year-olds. After my trip to the USS Sanctuary, I returned to the battle with a more focused purpose.
_______________________________
Excerpt from FIGHTING THE WAR FOR THE LORDS OF LORE (forthcoming book)
The Fable of the Sheep, Sheepdogs, and Wolves
There was once a herd of fat sheep deep in the peaceful, picturesque countryside. Wolves had not been able to get close enough to drag off and eat one of their number in a long time. The sheep enjoyed a season of prolonged peace. In fact, with an outer cordon of sheepdogs faithfully keeping the ravenous wolves far away – sometimes even sacrificing their own lives – the terrifying attacks of bygone years had been pretty much forgotten ... until one evening a wooly but awkward stranger appeared in the midst of the herd – leaner and taller than the other sheep, but with funny paws rather than hooves. He claimed he came as an emissary from a faraway herd and that he brought a message of freedom.
A faction of the younger sheep listened enthralled as the stranger spoke of a new world and accused the sheepdogs of trying to restrict their freedoms. “Truth be told, there are no such things as wolves,” he sweetly snarled. “So-called carnivores are nothing but sheep at heart, our brothers and sisters, and easily won over with our love. The problem is with the sheepdogs, who have created artificial barriers between us. No, it’s not so-called wolves who stand in our way, but the sheepdogs, who would divide us and control us for their own nefarious designs.”
A quorum of the sheep finally agreed amongst themselves that life would indeed be blissful without worrying about some imaginary wolves. After voting to build their new utopia by banishing the wicked sheepdogs forever, the sheep convened in a big inward-facing circle and bleated out the stanzas of ‘Imagine’ – as the hungry pack of wolves approached....
There was once a herd of fat sheep deep in the peaceful, picturesque countryside. Wolves had not been able to get close enough to drag off and eat one of their number in a long time. The sheep enjoyed a season of prolonged peace. In fact, with an outer cordon of sheepdogs faithfully keeping the ravenous wolves far away – sometimes even sacrificing their own lives – the terrifying attacks of bygone years had been pretty much forgotten ... until one evening a wooly but awkward stranger appeared in the midst of the herd – leaner and taller than the other sheep, but with funny paws rather than hooves. He claimed he came as an emissary from a faraway herd and that he brought a message of freedom.
A faction of the younger sheep listened enthralled as the stranger spoke of a new world and accused the sheepdogs of trying to restrict their freedoms. “Truth be told, there are no such things as wolves,” he sweetly snarled. “So-called carnivores are nothing but sheep at heart, our brothers and sisters, and easily won over with our love. The problem is with the sheepdogs, who have created artificial barriers between us. No, it’s not so-called wolves who stand in our way, but the sheepdogs, who would divide us and control us for their own nefarious designs.”
A quorum of the sheep finally agreed amongst themselves that life would indeed be blissful without worrying about some imaginary wolves. After voting to build their new utopia by banishing the wicked sheepdogs forever, the sheep convened in a big inward-facing circle and bleated out the stanzas of ‘Imagine’ – as the hungry pack of wolves approached....
Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people sharing all the world....
_____
Moral of the Story:
The gullible always pay for their naiveté.
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people sharing all the world....
_____
Moral of the Story:
The gullible always pay for their naiveté.
The Princess and the Frog
Once upon a time, a charming young princess was taking a walk in her garden when she spotted an ugly frog. Mindful of her proper upbringing in the castle, she knew she must be nice to everyone, so she went up to the frog and gave him a friendly greeting. “Hello, how are you today?”
The frog blinked his very large eyes at her, tears welling up, and said to her timidly, “Hello to you, too. Could you please, kiss me?”
“Why, whatever for?,” the princess replied politely, quite taken aback. She had never talked to a frog before but, still, she found his request, oh, so very strange.
”Have you forgotten the fairytale, silly? If you kiss me, I will become a prince! PuhL-E-E-EASE!,” he pleaded pitifully, tears flowing copiously now.
Oh, how the poor princess hated to see anyone suffer.
She truly found the frog horribly ugly, revolting even, but her good heart and the frog’s tears did the trick. She knelt on the grass, closed her eyes, and kissed the frog to put an end to his distress.
The frog laughed. “Now we are equal, my darling,” was all he said. The princess looked down and saw she had been turned into a frog.
So we have come to the end of our ribbiting tale. The princess lived unhappily ever after, as a frog. And there wasn’t a darn thing she or anyone else could do about it.
Once upon a time, a charming young princess was taking a walk in her garden when she spotted an ugly frog. Mindful of her proper upbringing in the castle, she knew she must be nice to everyone, so she went up to the frog and gave him a friendly greeting. “Hello, how are you today?”
The frog blinked his very large eyes at her, tears welling up, and said to her timidly, “Hello to you, too. Could you please, kiss me?”
“Why, whatever for?,” the princess replied politely, quite taken aback. She had never talked to a frog before but, still, she found his request, oh, so very strange.
”Have you forgotten the fairytale, silly? If you kiss me, I will become a prince! PuhL-E-E-EASE!,” he pleaded pitifully, tears flowing copiously now.
Oh, how the poor princess hated to see anyone suffer.
She truly found the frog horribly ugly, revolting even, but her good heart and the frog’s tears did the trick. She knelt on the grass, closed her eyes, and kissed the frog to put an end to his distress.
The frog laughed. “Now we are equal, my darling,” was all he said. The princess looked down and saw she had been turned into a frog.
So we have come to the end of our ribbiting tale. The princess lived unhappily ever after, as a frog. And there wasn’t a darn thing she or anyone else could do about it.
Moral of the Story:
Fools and their freedom are soon parted.
Fools and their freedom are soon parted.
