Thanks to Blazing Cat Fur, who brought the story of the WWII Gurkha to my attention.

Tul Bahadur Pun, of Nepal, fought for King and Country and was awarded the Victoria Cross for his services in the war. He took tea with the Queen Mother and attended the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II. However, in his last days he is being advised that his ties to the UK are not strong enough to be granted a visa.

Pun, 84, who won our highest bravery medal in the Second World War, wants to spend his last days among old comrades and having treatment for several health problems.

At his ramshackle home in Nepal, he said last night: "I feel bitterly disappointed at the way successive British governments have treated me.

"I have served the UK with the utmost loyalty and to be treated this way is appalling." Tul was handed his VC by Lord Mountbatten in 1944 for single-handedly charging a Japanese position in Burma under heavy fire.

For shame.

Labels: England, Gurkha, Nepal, Victoria Cross

And he's causing a helluva fuss. Ever since he wrote It's the Demography, Stupid! last year, and then expanded it into America Alone, it feels as if he has singled me out to personally save civilization by breeding. And as if that's not scary enough, my biological clock now ticks in his unusual pseudo-British voice.

I am bombarded daily by walking watermelons in the office, oversized prams blocking the sidewalk on my way to Saturday brunch, this week's Macleans with the cover screaming "Hey Lady! What will it take to make you breed?" and myriad other not-so-subtle hints.

It's normal to feel persecuted by my own ovaries. I'm thirty years old, healthy, moderately content with life (a massive improvement over how I felt in my twenties!), and female. My brain knows what it wants out of life, but my basest physiology is very much in tune with biology and survival of the species. How in tune? The Steyn-Clock only starts ticking in the presence of an Alpha Male. I am happily married to the world's most wonderful Beta Male, but Mother Nature and Mark Steyn have advised me that it's my ovarian destiny to breed super-children with an Alpha Male. And there's no fooling Mother and Mark.

It's usually easy to ignore. After all, I live in Toronto. Not a lot of Alpha Males here. So Im able to go about my business, scowling at the Yummie Mummies taking up valuable rush hour space on the subway or at the endless streams of welfare baby-mommas taking up valuable oxygen that Al Gore says we'll be out of soon. Mr. Right - beloved Beta Male - and I can joyfully and selfishly coexist, with the cats and the dog for unconditional love and (I shamefully admit) the occasional miniature designer outfit. We would be a deplorable parental duo. Both of us far too focused on our own issues and interests. Both of us lazy. Mr. Right is an excellent parent to me, wrangling the demons of my childhood that I carry with me. He's warm, caring, infinitely patient... but would forget a baby in the bathtub or even the grocery store. I have all the necessary instincts - right down to waking in the middle of the night if I hear one of the kitties being sick - but I would be one of those women you read about and shake your head, the one who drives her minivan full of kids into a lake.

But put me in the vicinity of an Alpha Male, and my ovaries stand up and salute! They sing the Star Spangled Banner. Five minutes with an Alpha, and I'm picking out names. Hawaii was a nightmare for a child-phobe like me - surrounded by the very best America has to offer in the form of Army, Navy, Marines and yes, even the Air Force. Not to say that every one of them is an Alpha - far from it. But the available percentage was much, much higher than under normal circumstances. So there I was, in Paradise, surrounded by Alphas, with Mark Steyn screaming from my nether regions. When it comes to my biological makeup, I'm no better than a cat. Gross.

The biggest problem is that Mark hasn't quite figured out that we're home now. We've been home nearly a month. But still all I hear is tick-tick-demography,stupid-tick....

Labels: Alpha Males, Biology, Demography, Mark Steyn, Science, Sex

The Charter is merely a list of then-current Received Liberal Pieties and should have as much bearing on the average Canadian's life as a six-year-old Chinese takeout menu. If written today it would include a clause making the separation of paper and glass mandatory for all householders, every other Wednesday. I do my best to ignore the Charter and so should any thoughtful person.

Labels: Feminism, Kathy Shaidle, Religion

Obviously this explains the prevalence of gay marriage, metrosexuals, and Colin & Justin.

Back in the summer of 2001, a team of Canadian and U.S. researchers spiked a lake in Northwestern Ontario with traces of synthetic estrogen used in human birth control pills. They then repeated the unusual treatment for the next two years and sat back and watched what happened to minnows living in the lake.

The results were nothing short of frightening. Exposing fish to tiny doses of the active ingredient in the pill, amounts little more than a whiff of estrogen, started turning male fish into females. Instead of sperm, they started developing eggs. Instead of looking like males, they became indistinguishable from females. Within a year of exposure, the minnow population began to crash. Within a few years, the fish, which at one time teemed in the lake, had practically vanished.

Ok, but what do these fish have to do with Colin & Justin, you ask? Fair question. It seems that the test samples of estrogen were meant to mimic the type and quantity of estrogen that makes it through waste water purification. Which means I - on the Pill - take a piss. It gets cleansed and purified, and your son drinks it. Next thing you know he's talking about his feelings, writing poetry, and making moon-eyes at the boy next door.

It's not known what effect, if any, human exposure to estrogen in drinking water might have, although Dr. Kidd said it is an area that should be a research priority. Reproductive problems in human males, such as declining sperm counts and testicular cancer, have been rising in recent decades, and the causes are not known.

"When we see these kinds of responses in fish, it raises a red flag for what these compounds are doing to humans," she said.

Dear God, what have we done? We take the Pill to avoid having children, and it emasculates our men to virtually ensure that we'll never have children. Obviously I can't cast the first stone here, but I definitely think it's worth further study.

Labels: Apocalypso, Science, Sex

As part of my PACOM series (other posts here and here), I'd like to introduce you to Major Paul Young, of the Canadian Air Force. That's right folks, there's a Canuck on Oahu, and he isn't just there to golf.

He stands apart from his American counterparts, with his darker green digitized uniform (apparently the basis for much teasing from his paler-green desk mates), soft-featured, friendly face and spectacles. Originally from the Maritimes, Major Young had been based in Winnipeg for the longest time before becoming part of the exchange program, moving his family to Oahu (there are worse postings to have to convince your wife of, I'm sure). There are currently 12 Canadians in various parts of the US Military machine (Canada offers just one spot for an American - currently vacant).

The exchange gives our Canadian soldiers an opportunity to work with bigger machines, better toys, and - in the case of Major Young, who works in Logistics - larger amounts of money and personnel. When I asked him, not totally understanding his role there, what he worked on, he said "American things. I work for the US Military. I don't sit at that desk working on anything Canadian." It's actually a very strange working relationship, since he will sit in his little cubicle, next to the Americans; together they will discuss various problems and solutions throughout the day, yet he is restricted from accessing certain areas of the very computer programs and databases he's meant to be working on. He is, after all, a foreign national.

Unfortunately I was only able to spend a few minutes with Major Young, but I could see he was happy with his role at PACOM. When I spoke with LTC Upson, who works with Major Young, he had only good things to say. Major Young is a well liked and respected colleague - one of their own.

Labels: Canadiana, Hawaii, Military, PACOM

The Little Mermaid statue in Denmark's capital was found draped in a Muslim dress and head scarf Sunday morning.

Sigh.

Labels: Burqa, Europe, Islam

Especially if the guy you're in love with is some psychotic Allah-loving jihad motherfucker.

Jill Courtney, 27, was "obsessed" with Hussan Kalache, who had promised to marry her if she carried out a "mission", police said in a statement presented in court.

They said she had Kalache's name and prison number tattooed "over various parts of her body," and that he had wanted Courtney to "prove her love to him by undertaking a 'mission' before he would commit to marriage."

Her mission was to blast a car bomb in Sydney's nightclub district. Like Bali.

Hormones can make us do crazy things. Love clouds our judgment (honey, I've been there). But a car bomb? Jill, did you ever stop to think that maybe he wasn't the guy for you?

Labels: Australia, Islamic Terror, Love

Graphic and heartbreaking, the Daily Mail has a story in their Femail section about honor killings in Iraq. Be warned - there are pictures of a girl who was stoned to death for dating a boy outside her denomination.

A teenage girl lies dead on the ground in a pool of her own blood.

Her once groomed hair is cast across her face like a rag doll's, her skirt pulled up to complete her humiliation.

In another image, she is seen lying on her side, her face battered and bloodied, barely recognisable.

The concrete block used to smash in her face lies next to her.

Du'a Khalil Aswad was beaten, kicked and stoned for 30 minutes at the hands of a lynch mob before one of her attackers launched a carefully aimed fatal blow.

America is trying to bring civilizaztion to savages, and we moan about the length of time it's taking. I suggest we make ourselves good and comfortable - this is going to take a while.

Labels: Honor Killiing, Iraq

It's been fifteen years since my mother succumbed to lung cancer. Cigarettes were her vice. Two and a half packs a day for thirty years. When she died she was just 47 lbs.

Everyone loved my mother. She was a perfect angel to all who knew her. Kind, benevolent, trustworthy - she was a girl scout. Funny, silly, a middle-aged child.

Why then do I have so many nightmares about her? Why was I so shy when she was alive, and only came out of my shell when she was gone? Sure, I fucked up a lot of my life after her death, and my father's a few years later. But I can't help but wonder if I would be as strong, interesting and successful as I am today had she given up her habit and lived to see me into my twenties. Or would I be doing as all my friends are beginning to do, and turning into my mother?

The dynamic of a mother-daughter relationship is a strange one. Every one is different. Some mothers and daughters are remarkably alike in looks, interest and temperament. Others are like night and day. My mother and I weren't at each other's throats, but we were quite opposite. I was my father's child - smart and sharp and acerbic. I was dramatic, a diva at a young age. My mother was a tomboy in jeans who would entertain the kids (my friends and I) by building a campfire or teaching us to climb trees. She could shoot. I could walk in heels. She was a backwoods girl who said "eh" a lot. I read my first Tolstoy at 11. When she died, I felt like I could breathe.



My father, on the other hand, was lost without her. Within five years, he drank himself to death. Saying it that way makes it sound so ugly - and it was, don't get me wrong. But time and distance have a way of letting you blur the edges, and now I prefer to say that he died of a broken heart. Because he did. The day we buried my mother, we left him behind in her grave.

Over and over he would play Honey, and cry silently, empty bottle on the table and tears streaming down his cheeks from his glassy bloodshot eyes. I've never seen any man of any age so in love with a woman that he willed his heart to stop beating for her. Terrifying as it was, it was also beautiful. Fifteen years ago today, he lost Honey.

Labels: Ghosts, Honey, Music, Parents, Personal

The husband of a pregnant teenager found stabbed to death has been arrested on suspicion of her murder.

The 24-year-old husband of Sana Ali, 17, was arrested by murder squad detectives along with 16-year-old youth.

Mrs Ali and her unborn child both died following the attack at her home in Bury, Greater Manchester, on Friday.

Sana came to the UK five years ago as an arranged bride. She was married six months ago, and had to drop out of her college classes because she became pregnant.

This is not a life. She was a prisoner of her culture, forced to marry and breed when she was no more than a child. She was a prisoner of her marriage: neighbors said they didn't even know there was a young woman living in the house. And now she's dead, her and her baby, stabbed to death in her own "home".

Neighbours said they were shocked by the murder. "They are a quiet family, we rarely saw them," one resident said. "They are Muslim and sometimes they wear traditional dress, but other times they wear Westernised clothing.

"They recently had a large garage converted into a prayer room, and every couple of weeks quite a number of people came to pray. But I never saw a young girl at the house.

"A policeman told me he had interviewed 29 residents in the street and not one had seen a teenage girl or knew one that had recently got married."

She was invisible - her life meant nothing to the people around her, including the one (or ones) who killed her.

Try to spare Sana a thought tonight. Better late than never.

Labels: Arranged Marriage, England, Europe, Honor Killiing, Islam, Sana Ali

A tip from a Canadian resident ended Richard Steve Goldberg's stint on the FBI's Ten Most Wanted Fugitives list, and the alleged child molester is now awaiting extradition, the bureau said.

According to the Web site for the television show, "America's Most Wanted," Goldberg had been seeing a nonprofit counselor under the alias Terry Wayne Kearns. He allegedly told the counselor he was an American fugitive, but the charges against him were "trumped up," the Web site said.

The counselor told a friend, who found Goldberg on the FBI Web site, according to "America's Most Wanted."

The 61-year-old former engineer had been on the run for six years after he was charged in 2001 with producing child pornography, two counts of possessing child pornography and six counts of performing lewd acts on a child, the FBI said. He also faces unlawful flight charges.

Labels: Canadiana, Child Molesters, Law, Law Enforcement

But somehow I doubt we are. I hate to think Europe is ahead of us on this. Then again, their problem is more pressing than ours.

Security officials from Europe's largest countries backed a plan Saturday to profile mosques on the continent and identify radical Islamic clerics who raise the threat of homegrown terrorism.

The project, to be finished by the fall, will focus on the roles of imams, their training, their ability to speak in the local language and their sources of funding, EU Justice and Home Affairs Commissioner Franco Frattini told a news conference after a meeting on terrorism.

Mr. Right and I were talking about the idea last night, and trying to figure out how best to infiltrate a mosque. If Islam teaches its adherents to lie to the infidel, how can we trust someone calling themselves "moderate" to go information-gathering for us? And obviously you can't stick a red-headed Irish guy in there and call him a Muslim without him having to prove his street-cred. A (pretend) new convert isn't going to be privy to the real fire-and-brimstone-smite-them-at-the-neck stuff. So short of wiretapping, how do you infiltrate a mosque?

Labels: Europe, Intelligence, Islam, Islamic Terror

...read about those who can.

As y'all know, I've been doing quite a bit of running around lately, what with Hawaii closely followed by DC for the MilBlog conference. So while it seems I've been eternally on holiday (at least, that's how it seems to my boss), I'm actually quite burnt out.

So I'm curling up this weekend without the laptop, and reading. Mr. Right found me a book at Chapters called Boomsday by Christopher Buckley. About a blogger who suggests that we lighten the economic load by convincing baby boomers to commit suicide. Really the only way America can save Social Security.

Anyway, I love you and I bid you adieu. I have a pitcher of iced tea to make, and a couple of books to read (that have nothing to do with demographics or jihad).

Labels: Blogging, Books

The two pansies trying to seek refugee status in Canada from the eeeevil United States have been turned down for the final time.

Two U.S Army deserters have exhausted their appeals for Canadian refugee status and now face deportation.

In a ruling released yesterday, a three-judge panel of the Federal Court of Appeal upheld decisions by the Federal Court and the Immigration and Refugee Board that Jeremy Hinzman and Brandon Hughey are not entitled to refugee status.

My heart is NOT bleeding! The US Military is all-volunteer. They signed up knowing that it could mean more than just a free education. They signed up knowing that someday they may be called upon to pay the piper.

They argued they were conscientious objectors and had well-founded fears they would face persecution if returned to the U.S.

The board, Federal Court and its appellate division rejected those arguments.

The latest ruling noted neither made full use of steps open to them in the U.S. to win conscientious objector status, before fleeing here.

Labels: Cowardice, Military

Shockingly - shockingly, I tell ya - they were all Muslim. Wow.

Six foreign-born Muslims were arrested and accused Tuesday of plotting to attack the army's Fort Dix and massacre scores of U.S. soldiers, a plot investigators say was foiled when the men took a video of themselves firing assault weapons to a store to have the footage put onto a DVD.

Three of them were illegal aliens (Oops, sorry. I meant "undocumented workers").

"It doesn't matter to me whether I get locked up, arrested or get taken away," Serdar Tatar was quoted as saying. "Or I die, it doesn't matter. I'm doing it in the name of Allah."

This is what we're fighting: an enemy who wants to die for their devil-god. A false religion, a cult of sex and death, from a false desert prophet. A Religion of Pieces.

Will we ever learn?

Labels: Islam, Islamic Terror, Military, War on Terror

Every year, thousands flock to Oahu to bask on Waikiki Beach, surf at Sunset Beach, or golf at Turtle Bay. When the tourists think of the military there, they think of Pearl Harbor as something in the past - a headline, a movie, a call to arms - not as a fully functioning military installation that still operates today (for example, when the USS Ronald Reagan was docked there just a few weeks ago).

Oahu is covered with military. It seemed to me that I was never more than 50 yards from the nearest serviceman. There is the obvious female reaction to all that camo, but there is something more: a sense of security. I knew that I could walk to my accommodation at any hour and not have to look over my shoulder. I knew that no matter how lost I got (yes, I can get lost on an island - I'm talented that way), there would be someone with patience and knowledge to get me out of the bind. This was evidenced one morning when I took a wrong turn and found myself heading for Hickam Air Force Base. I knew I wouldn't be able to enter - you have to have military ID for that. But the sentries posted at the entrance are incredibly helpful and friendly. It must happen often enough, since they have a built in u-turn spot to make the exit easier!

One evening I was meeting a friend at his installation, and I arrived a few minutes early. Again, I knew I wouldn't be able to gain entry to the parking lot. So I just idled the car on the side of the road and stepped out to stretch my legs. A moment later a colonel in a sporty little red car pulled up to see if I was having car trouble. I can't remember the last time a civilian (not counting a truck driver) stopped to see if I needed assistance.

And while we're on the subject of car trouble, I was lucky enough to meet my new favorite person in Hawaii: Lieutenant Colonel Kevin Upson. When the LTC was in Iraq (he was a Major then), I was assigned as a Soldiers' Angel to the 82nd Airborne, which was his unit. I was to send all correspondence for the troops to him, and he would distribute at random. I would usually receive an email from him every month or so, and if I didn't hear from him, I'd drop him a line to check in. He was the only one in the unit I had contact with - the rest was done anonymously. He's been in Hawaii for a few months now, so of course I contacted him when I found out I was going over. And when I arrived at the gate of Camp Smith to check in with the PAO for PACOM, it was the LTC who greeted me. It was a great honor to meet him - one I will cherish always, though he said the honor was his. Having him meet me at the door was only the first surprise he had in store. After my various chats with the Public Affairs Coordinator (Maj. David Griesmer, USMC - more on that meeting later) and other staff, LTC Upson escorted me out and told me to go "suit up" for a formal occasion. Hmmmm... intriguing... How does this all lead to car trouble? I'm getting to that - bear with me! (Although I was also able to interview LTC Upson, I will post that at a later date. I'm trying to stay on topic here!)

He picked me up a couple of hours later to escort me to the kickoff of Military Appreciation Month - a rather swanky "do" on Ford Island at the new Pacific Aviation Museum. The event was hosted by a series of local and corporate sponsors, and attended by Admiral Keating, the man who runs the show at PACOM. This was the LTC's way of saying thanks for all I had done, even though I felt I could never do enough.






Anyway, to the car trouble.... after wining and dining on the catering of some of the finest restaurants on Oahu, and listening to the USMC Jazz Trio (they were awesome!), it was time to call it a night. We walked back to the car, only to find a dead battery. LTC Upson was terribly embarrassed, all dressed in his A's, with a dead car. A fine pair we made soliciting through the crowd to see if anyone had jumper cables! Sure enough, we found a table of young kids - Army - so young I wondered if they should have had those beers in their hands. One of them suggested popping the clutch on a rolling start. What a spectacle! Four or five of them, plus the LTC, pushing the car while another sat in the driver's seat getting ready to start her (a success!). Me on the sidelines, holding somebody's beer and laughing at the sight, especially when an equally young bunch of Marines walked by and stopped to stare. To me it was one of the high points of the evening, though LTC Upson will probably send me a tersely worded email just for writing about it!

Perhaps it's because I'm Canadian and we tend not to be very outgoing and helpful. Maybe it's an "American thing". Or maybe it truly is that having that many overgrown Boy Scouts in one place means you are never alone, and never without help when you need it. For that reason alone - not the beaches or the palm trees or even the pink-hued sunsets - did I feel at home on Oahu. And it is for that reason I would someday return there.

Labels: Hawaii, Military, PACOM, Soldiers Angels, Travel

More details about the conference can be found on the Cotillion main site. In the meantime, some pictures...

Labels: Cotillion, MilBlog 2007

With all eyes fixed on the Middle East, it is easy to forget that Pacific Command is responsible for 51% of the world, including India and the hotly disputed area of Kashmir. Detractors snort and call America the world's police (or worse) but the image it brings to mind is fairly accurate. Through the Indonesian tsunami to the mudslides in Leyte, PACOM has been there to offer assistance, provide clean water and medical care, bury the dead and help rebuild.

It's no secret that America possesses the world's largest and strongest military, but many may not realize that there is so much more to it than "killing people and breaking things". Throughout Asia-Pacific they work day after day alongside the governments and militaries of countries with burgeoning economies, tribal strife, religious warfare and dictatorial regimes. Like a friend and teacher, they are there to bring these countries and territories out of their dark struggles and into a prosperous future.

Over the next couple of days I will tell you a little bit more about PACOM and my visit there. I feel the need to break it down into individual pieces (it must be a blogger thing - we have short attention spans and think you must, too).

Labels: Hawaii, PACOM

This is one party I wish I weren't missing.

On Thursday evening, 150 Holocaust survivors from across the Toronto region will pin on corsages and don their best suits to celebrate their senior prom.

The idea comes from a similar prom held by the Jewish student group Hillel for survivors living in Hamilton. It's being organized by Toronto's Baycrest Centre for Geriatric Care, which is home to almost 1,000 Holocaust survivors.

There will be a decorated gymnasium, prizes, gifts and live music, and members of Hillel will dance and chat with the survivors.

What an absolutely wonderful idea. I hope they have a great time. They've waited long enough.

Labels: Holocaust, Toronto

Councillors Rob Ford (Ward 2, Etobicoke North) and Doug Holyday (Ward 3, Etobicoke Centre)

Seems they're saving me money, much to the chagrin of their colleagues who are costing me a fortune in pay raises and expenditures.

Councillors receive an expense allowance of $53,100 a year to send out letters, rent office space in their constituencies or otherwise run their offices.

Ford reported spending zero in 2006; Holyday says he spent $1,471. Both are known to lecture other councillors for wasting taxpayers' money.

I understand that there's a Code of Conduct to adhere to, but as a Toronto taxpayer, I appreciate the little bit these men are doing for me. Year after year City Council and the Mayor vote themselves enormous salary increases - the increases alone being almost as much as my salary. If these two men want to take it upon themselves to pay for business cards and letterhead out of their own pockets, then more power to them. They already make more than most of their constituents. Let 'em do it.

Certainly this should be fully investigated to make sure that they aren't trading favors for goods and services. But if they come up clean, they should be commended.

Labels: Toronto

Antonia Zerbisias is on a tirade about how Rosie O'Donnell got fired because she was fat, ugly and loud (Full Disclosure: This has happened to me a time or two before). Really, with friends like Zerb, Rosie doesn't need enemies.

Rude, lewd, crude Rosie O'Donnell was leaving ABC's daytime talk show The View.

Naturally, King was obligated to seek out The Combover Which Talks, Donald Trump.

"She's a disgusting person," said Trump, who has been trading insults with O'Donnell since January. "She's a slob."

Alright, now that everyone has stated the obvious, let's look at where Zerb went wrong in this article (since up till now I agree with her).

More dangerous than taking on Trump, who was followed on CNN by another outsized, outrageous woman: Roseanne Barr, also known for her crotch-grabbing and blunt talk.

Unlike all the blond-trophy-second-wife types flanking old men co-hosts all over the TV grid, neither Barr nor O'Donnell shut up and look pretty.

Not a single mainstream media news show is hosted by a woman who is aggressive and candid, the way that Bill O'Reilly is on Fox, or Joe Scarborough or Keith Olbermann are on MSNBC. There is no female David Letterman, Jay Leno, Jimmy Kimmel or Bill Maher.

Oprah Winfrey, as revealed on Bill Moyers' outstanding post-mortem on the pre-Iraq media last week, shut up audience members who questioned the Bushies. Ellen DeGeneres hasn't uttered a controversial word since she yelled, "I'm gay!" on her sitcom 10 years ago.

Has no network found the courage to offer, say, Sarah Silverman or Janeane Garofalo a platform? Or will O'Donnell's replacement be Red State straight?

I don't know which fallacy to deal with first. Let's start with the noisiest: Janeane Garofolo. Garofolo was practically given her own radio station, and there was no market for her bullshit. Air America tanked.

Sarah Silverman plays both sides of the political sphere, and that's why she's loved and hated by all. Good for her - excellent career ahead of her.

Greta van Susteren - arguably the ugliest woman on television, is one of Fox News's biggest draws.

Tammy Bruce (a lesbian) and Michelle Malkin (a minority) regularly appear on or even guest-host Bill O'Reilly's show. They are Republicans. How wicked of them, going against the grain like that.

Antonia, I must ask if you've ever even watched Fox News, or if you are like those blinkered pro-CBC types who wanted Fox banned in Canada? Because there are plenty of loud, opinionated and even somewhat unattractive women doing very well out there. They just happen to be conservatives.

Maybe the problem is that no one wants to buy the message you're selling.

H/t: Kathy

Labels: Main Stream Media, Truther