The PR Blog

Our American friends will be celebrating their Thanksgiving Day and they have a lot to be thankful for,   a truly wonderful President-Elect,  a Country about to gather strength and make American Great again..... Again. 

Thanksgiving, the day Americans stop and give thanks for the great gift they have in their country. along with the reason Thanksgiving is celebrated in the first place. So let us go back in time to when it all started... 

When the first settlers arrived on the Mayflower in 1620 at Plymouth , they had hopes and dreams to found a Nation free of Religious persecution and constraints of the then King of England, King James I.

Their voyage was funded by The London Group of Merchant Adventurers.

They were bound for Virginia, but, due to stormy weather, they instead were forced to anchor in what is now Provincetown Harbour, Massachusetts. On November 11th, 1620, their intent was spelled out in the document known as the Mayflower Compact; written and signed by the passengers on board. This document laid out a basic form of life rules that would bind them. An exploration party set forth to find a suitable place to create a new settlement and the settlers remained on board to suffer the scourge of disease.

Margaret Sanger (referred to as Margaret) was born in New York, US, on September 14, 1879 to Michael Higgins (Higgins) and Anne Purcell (Purcell). Her parents were Irish-born Catholics whose parents had emigrated from Ireland during the Potato Famine of the mid-1800s—the Higgins family to Canada and the Purcell family to the US. 

As a youth, Higgins crossed the border to the US. and served as a Union soldier in the Civil War. He never returned to Canada, which was disliked by the Irish because of its ties to Britain.

It has been a good many years since I read " Crime and Punishment " by Russian author Fyodor Dostoyevsky.  

It is essentially the story of a man who does something terrible, lives to regret it and how WE, as humans, are ultimately responsible for how we live our lives. We may seek redemption but we cannot turn the clock back and undo what one has done. 

All we can do is live with the consequences, try not to repeat our mistakes and hope like hell that those around us cut us some slack if we rectify our behaviour and start being productive members of society.

Certainly, our leaders who advocated for vaccines, masks, lockdowns and social destruction don't seem to be doing a damn thing about ensuring that they do not repeat their mistakes. The problem is that WE have to live with THEIR mistakes. And they are still hell-bent on repeating them. 

Comedy. The Last Frontier. 

The Marshalls have moved in. The posses are out in force. The lynch mobs are around every piece of tumbleweed, ambush alley or Acme shed. 

No one is safe from the hanging tree if you are white, heterosexual, conservative and can still have a  laugh.  Hell, even the black conservatives are in the firing line. 

In a world where political correctness tiptoes on eggshells, navigating the fine line between being offended and being offensive has become an art form.   

All I can say is no wonder the chicken crossed the road. She hoped it would be safer on the other side. Only it isn't. Because to get to the other side means you have to cross a highway of laws, hate speech accusations and lawsuits. The poor chicken rarely makes it. And, if she does, she is roasted for giving a cluck. 

Every joke these days is reported to a moderator on social media because someone was offended. It seems to me that to laugh these days, is offensive. 

I have always been fascinated by lighthouses. The power of a man-made structure standing as a guardian to shield us from the fury and power of the sea. 

Though, these days, we seem to need men to stand as guardians to shield us from the fury and power of our fellow man and government.

It struck me that when we confront problems head on, we find solutions. Ignoring the incoming storm does not make it go away. 

Without a light to guide us during the tempest, we are doomed to a life in darkness and perpetual fear of being drowned by a tempest that seems to be building by the day.